by Katharyn » Sun Feb 17, 2008 10:12 am
Title: Lesbian Gay Type Women in Love – Pumpkins
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome. Flames just demonstrate you have a tiny mind.
Spoiler Warning: Probably none, and why the hell do we need to worry about this years after the show went off the air? Suffice it to say nothing bad ever happened to our girls.
Distribution This story was written for Pens. Pens is its home. No archiving off Different Coloured Pens (This applies to all my W&T fic)
Summary: And finally…
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories. You know the drill.
Rating: NC17 – Look at the thread title, can’t you guess what it might be filled with?
Couples: Tara and Willow forever. I doubt I’ll even mention anyone else.
Notes: I’ve done short stories. I’ve done 240+ part grand tales. I’ve done missing scenes and AU. Now, I’m doing smut for the sheer fun of it. Fuck pacing, storyline, drama or believability. All I have to make you believe is that it is the girls and that they are in love. The title is not a reference to any food fun - past or present. As for the other ‘items’ used in this part… I’m making no comment.
Thanks To: My special woman. Also Xita for maintaining this wonderful board and used to like some smut once upon a time. Everyone who ever read one of my fics and actually liked it (especially those who posted to say so!)
Lesbian Gay Type Women in Love
Pumpkins
By
Katharyn Rosser
“Ya know? I’ve come to the conclusion,” Willow announced, “that I – we – mainly me - may be the teensiest bit drunk.”
“You,” Tara corrected. “Je suis une designated driver.” Which didn’t mean she didn’t have a buzz on. It was just a Willow buzz. Her girl had had a great night, and that was following a great day. With their connection, she was all over that in terms of feeling good.
And it hadn't exactly been the worst day of her life either.
“Mmm,” Willow pressed up against her. “You are so responsible. Everyone still says so. As if I'm not!”
It really didn’t take much to get Willow drunk, it had to be said. Neither of them had ever indulged in alcohol all that much - less so these days - so when they did…
“Careful,” Tara said as Miss Kitty darted away from a stumbling redhead in a beautiful dress.
“Aww, Miss Kitty’s mad at me,” Willow moaned, slumping into a chair and meeting the cat’s impatient glare. Clearly a nap had been interrupted.
Tara wasn’t actually so sure that Willow was as inebriated as she was making out. Enough to be giggly and to stumble once in a while, sure. Enough to feel it in the morning – definitely. But no more than that.
Certainly not drunk enough to be singing – which would’ve probably been a sign she needed to put a bucket by the bed.
Will was still staring at Miss Kitty when she came back them both with a pint of water in one hand and something to forestall the inevitable headache dehydration would bring in the other. “Here, baby. You know the drill.”
Instead of taking the pill though, Willow kissed her closed hand. “And such a lovely drilling it was too…”
Tara smiled as Willow giggled, indulging her lover’s memories. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
Willow sighed. She took the pill, sipped at the water. A little dribbled down her front and she found it as funny as only a drunk could. “What?” she demanded, noticing Tara’s glance.
“Your pretty dress,” Tara told her.
“Oh. Oh – yeah.” Willow started to try and get out of it, still sat down. She was fighting cushions, friction, gravity and her own entanglement.
“No, love,” Tara said. “Let me help you.”
“You’re good to me,” Willow said, kissing her hand again and then clasping it tightly for long seconds.
“You’re good for me,” Tara replied. She meant every word.
Who would she have been without Willow? Lonely for sure. Painfully shy and very afraid. Probably deluded into believing she was a demon to boot. She moved to go put the dress away, but a nearly naked Willow stopped her. “I’m coming back,” she promised.
That seemed to satisfy Willow and she was able to go hang the dress up neatly. Tiredness hadn’t quite followed the lack of sobriety. Not yet anyway. And there’d be no getting Willow to bed until it did, alcohol made her heart pound and until that turned into weariness in her mind… She heard the TV click on.
When she came back into the living room, shoeless and carrying the comforter, Willow was sprawled over the couch in her mostly nude glory, while Miss Kitty sat on the back of the chair looking down at her.
Tara scratched behind the cat’s ear and Miss Kitty recognised it for what it was. The consolation prize for her dismissal. The cat flicked her hand with her tail as she left. No, Miss Kitty was never dismissed. She chose to be elsewhere.
“Scoot over, love,” Tara tried to sit down by Willow and cover them up. Instead of just moving her legs though, Willow contorted herself enough to turn around and sit against her. Encouraging – wordlessly demanding – Tara’s embrace.
And it wasn’t like she wasn’t going to get it now, was it? As they snuggled under the comforter Tara idly caressed her girl – just as she might Miss Kitty, had the cat been in her lap. Stroking the places that relaxed Willow the most. Enjoying the sensation as much for herself as Willow must have been.
It was nothing more than instinct that brought her hand to Willow’s hair and the other to gently cup her breast. No wonder Willow was practically purring in ambitionless contentment.
And yet there was something wrong here…
On the TV, overly muscular men were running around inside big balls. There had to be something Freudian about that. But why were they watching it? “What’s this?”
Willow was already zoned out on two simple facts.
First – that it was a TV. Second that it was switched on. Those, added to the drinks and the embrace, were evidently enough for her not to realise what she was watching. “Am - ” She stopped. “Hey! Where are the girls?” She twisted her head to look at Tara as though she’d been the one who’d taken them away. “Bring back the girls!”
“Girls?”
“American Gladiator Girls,” Willow clarified, sighing.
“Uhuh.”
“This right here is classic TV,” Willow announced. “This was the first show I saw where I looked at the women and went ‘wow, look at that.’ Or actually… ‘look at those.’”
Tara scoffed. She just couldn’t see it. This…? This had highlighted Willow’s sexuality? Even if she hadn’t recognised it for what it was at the time?
“You could be on this,” Willow added, ignoring the fact the show had ended years before.
Tara glanced at the screen where another game seemed to be being introduced. “I don’t think I’ve ever been fit enough,” she concluded. “And also, me and spandex…We don’t mix.”
“It’s not like there’s much spandex,” Willow mused happily.
“And that’s why you like it huh?”
“Mmm. I still like to watch it – now I have you – and wonder what you’d be like as a competitor.”
Tara laughed again. At least she wasn’t expected to be a Gladiator… “I’m not much with the fighting – at least not where I can’t use magic.”
“That would be cheating,” Willow agreed.
“You…? You really imagine me? In those sports bra and shorts?” Even the competitors looked like their silicone was offering more support than their clothes.
“Fer sure!”
Tara gave in and giggled. “And what’s my best game?” she asked.
“Event – they call them events,” Willow corrected her.
“Okay, what’s my best event?”
Willow thought about that for a few seconds as two women got up on raised podiums and started to beat each other up with what looked like a giant cotton bud. Surely this was someone’s idea of a fetish they were watching?
“They’d have to start a new event for you, in your honour,” Willow finally decided.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“My event,” Tara explained.
“Oh. Yeah. You ready for this?” Willow checked, building it up.
Tara nodded and waited, watching as Willow went into a dreamy place.
“Fist of Fun!” Willow said, imitating the presenter’s exuberant voiceover. “Contenders ready! Girlfriends ready! Fist!”
She couldn’t help it; she just had to let out a yelp of laughter at the idea. And, if they were playing with their girlfriends rather than the muscle-bound gladiators… that’d be okay.
“No, no!” Willow exclaimed. “I’m serious. It takes skill, endurance and you score so many points when you win.”
“Oh, really?”
“Very really,” Willow confirmed.
“And what do points mean?” Tara asked.
“Prizes.”
“I like prizes,” Tara said and they kissed at an angle as Willow reached down, stroking her folded legs all the way down to the ribbon.
“But you can’t have your prize now,” Willow said.
“Why?”
“It’s my birthday. Today’s about me.”
“Nope.”
“Is so! We just had a party and everything!” Willow told her, as if she might’ve missed it.
“That was yesterday,” Tara said. “It’s past midnight. We turned into pumpkins.”
Willow looked crestfallen. “Oh, well… If we’re pumpkins, we better go get some sleep.”
Tara smiled, tipping her head back for a moment. No, Willow wasn’t as drunk as she’d been making out. She knew exactly what she was doing. And saying. She was going to finagle more sex from her… More physical loving.
Oh, yes she was.
“Not what I had in mind,” Tara said.
Willow paused, the mischief in her eyes only diluted by anticipation. “So, because it’s not my birthday any more – and I still dispute that by the way - just what is it you think should happen now?”
“Honestly,” Tara said, “I can’t imagine anything we didn’t get to already to.”
“You’re the one who always says we don’t need to do anything,” Willow said. “We could just lie here, or somewhere else, and just… you know, be.”
It was more than an appealing idea. Just lie together. Be together. Touch together. Sleep together.
“You know, unless you want…”
There was an offer there, oh yes there was. Perhaps even an expectation. And Tara did, she did want. But not at the expense of just… being. With Willow. “Come to bed, love,” Tara asked.
Willow glanced at the TV. “But spandex. Muscle-bound women with cool names. American Gladiators!”
“Oh!” Tara exclaimed. “You are so bad.”
First Willow offered to be with her. Then she feigned more interest in the TV, a decade old TV show at that? Making it more playful. Well, two could be playful. She bucked against Willow, encouraging her to get up. Then she stared at the nearly naked owner of her heart when she was stood there, waiting. As if she was the one being slow…
Next thing she knew ‘nearly naked’ wasn’t accurate any more as the panties slipped down. Oh, so alluring. Oh, so sexy. Willow stepped from them, pointed her toe and offered to flick them to Tara. So she held up her hands, ready to catch either them or Willow. Whichever fell her way first while Willow tried to balance on one foot.
The higher that foot lifted from the floor, the less graceful Willow became. A ballet dancer she was not. A smile gave her lover that last encouragement and the scrap of fabric sailed through the air and –
Onto Miss Kitty. Who hissed and slunk out from under them.
Willow giggled, came up to her all naked and delicious. Seriously edible too. Tara wondered for a moment whether she was going to be straddled again, but that wasn’t it. Not right now at least.
Willow reached out and repeated her own words back to her. “Come to bed, love.”
Tara, mesmerized by the woman and the promise, followed her. She allowed Willow to take her hand and lead the way. There was nothing urgent or hurried about their progress. They went slowly up the stairs – but without stopping even once for kisses. Willow even ignored the caress of her butt that Tara just couldn’t resist.
She had the sneaking suspicion that Willow had found focus from somewhere.
“You’re beautiful,” Willow said as they finally stopped at the end of the bed. “And I love you. Always have. Always will.”
“Ditto,” Tara said, fighting back a smile.
“Ditto?” Willow sounded confused and perhaps a little disappointed.
“Yeah, you know ‘same for me.’ ‘What you said.’ Ditto.”
“Ditto indeed,” Willow said, stroking her cheek. “I have no idea why – even now – people persist in believing you’re the sweet, innocent one.”
“I was till you found me,” Tara said.
“Ditto,” Willow murmured again, reaching to ease her sweater over her head, leaving her fully dressed but for that, bra exposed. “Tell me you love me.”
“Ditto.”
“Tell me I’m beautiful,” Willow demanded.
“I told you, ditto. It was all covered by ditto.”
“Tara,” Willow said.
“Yes, love?”
“I want you to say the words.”
“Ditto – Di-tto.”
The naked woman pulled her down into sitting on the bed then gave her another instruction. “Lie down.”
Tara obeyed, despite still being dressed. There was something about Will… Something she knew she’d like.
“Say the words,” Willow said again, over her now. Trailing a finger over her stomach, under her still covered breasts. “Say them.”
“Ditto,” Tara growled. Willow’s response was a lust filled groan as their lips came together. Their tongues clashed and briefly fought for superiority. She couldn’t have said anything more, even if either of them had really wanted her to.
Willow’s hands ran up and down her sides, so lightly. Down her arms and back up again. When was she going to be stripped or asked to do it herself? “Oh – No!” she protested as Willow started to tickle her, her sides first, making her writhe and kick out. Then under her arms too. “Willow! No!”
Once again reflex kicked in and she thrashed. Willow knew how ticklish she was, and where. “Say it,” her lover demanded in a momentary pause, fingers still poised.
Tara – determined to oppose her – just stretched out again. She could take it. And she did. Willow’s fingers tormented her for long seconds before another pause. Another demand. “Say it.”
“Ditto.”
“Say it.”
“Ditto.” She stretched out once more, inviting the torment. If that was what Willow wanted…
Her woman reached for her, going for her arms again and all at once Tara heard a series of clicks. She knew, on some level, what was happening, even if she couldn’t place what it was just at that moment.
She felt the velvet pressure, heard it and recognised the sensual intent in Willow’s movements. Even while she was appreciating the hanging breast that was in her face, she was also admiring how artfully it had been done. She was only just consciously coming to realise that Willow had fastened one half of the handcuffs she’d received as a gift just a few hours ago around her wrist. “Say it.”
“Curiosity as well as determination made her repeat the reply once more. “Ditto.”
She let Willow take the other hand. Let her fasten the cuffs around the wooden rail at the head of the bed first. She tested the flexibility she had. She could certainly move – easily even – but she wasn’t going anywhere. And now, she was just fascinated with what Willow – a slightly drunk Willow – was going to do with this new… opportunity.
“Say it,” Willow demanded once again – this time with a new kind of leverage.
Leverage or no, she was going to do what Willow wanted now? Yeah, right. Just when things were about to get… interesting. “No.”
Willow looked down at her, all naked and beautiful. “So be it. If you will not say the words, you will be tormented.”
And then, the woman she loved left Tara lying there.
Now that was… unexpected. Willow had never been one for patience so, Tara reasoned, she must’ve been going to get something. But what?
For the first few minutes Tara tried to figure out just what she could and couldn’t do – also straining to try and see or hear where Willow had gone. But she could only hear her woman. And that only from time to time.
A rattle on glass. Cupboards opening and closing. The tap running.
But still Willow didn’t return to her.
Tara’s brain shifted from the immediate to the anticipation of pleasure to come but – when Willow still didn’t come back – that risked being too much for her. It was all very well feeling the building of desire when she could do something about it, but not like this.
There was nothing she could do but writhe and squeeze her thighs together in a way that sorta helped, if only a little. It was getting to be maddening. Willow had never left her before and Tara knew she was coming back. This wasn’t the torment. This might not even be the start of it. It was probably just preparation.
Where was Willow? All naked and… And she was in handcuffs, Willow wouldn’t be able to stay away from that. Not for long.
But what was she doing?
The certainty of her lover’s imminent return only built Tara’s desire, and that in turn made her appreciate what these cuffs were really for. Ordinarily, not that Willow would usually have left her here; she’d have enjoyed her own body a little as she waited.
Now… more and more, her body was a source of torment she wasn’t even sure Willow had intended it to be.
And her lover had barely touched her so far.
She looked to the door as she heard the patter of bare feet on the carpet. Willow peered in, looking amused at her predicament. Of course she could tell just what kind of predicament it was. Tara’s bra felt tight, her nipples were obviously signalling her desire, even though the lightly padded cups. Oh, and Willow would probably claim she could smell her woman’s musk too.
“Get in here,” Tara demanded, trying to assert a little control. But mostly she’d said it just to see how Willow would react. “Come sit on my face.”
She smiled as she noticed the flicker of indecision cross her lover’s features. But Willow resisted the lure. “No,” Willow replied. “Say the words though and I might consider it.”
Tara shook her head slowly. There was a trump card here. She knew Willow was just as horny as she was. While her body was largely hidden – for all of the hot nakedness behind the doorframe – she could see one breast. One stiff nipple. One flushed face as Willow leaned around to peer in at her.
And she could see the look in her girl’s eyes. It wasn’t like either of them was into domination – or submission. There wasn’t a role to play here, just because there were handcuffs. Willow was no more in control of her desire than she was.
When it came to it, the cuffs were the only difference between them. Oh, and Willow had a tray full of… stuff.
“What’s that?” Tara asked as her lover entered the room.
“You are going to say it,” Willow said. The tray went on the bedside table, covered by a couple of silk scarves Willow must’ve got from the spare closet in the guest room. Under them… who knew what? At least one thing that was tall, a glass?
She just hoped Willow hadn’t – in her alcohol-fuelled way – been too creative. Tara didn’t think she’d much of one for hot wax or anything like that…
“You’ll see,” Willow said. “Now… first I want you a little more exposed.” Coming to the bed, Willow climbed over her and Tara rippled her body like a wave to try and touch her – somewhere. Anywhere. But there was no joy to be had as Willow avoided her efforts.
Instead Willow’s short nails gently scratched down from her bra to the fastening of her skirt and… left it alone.
Willow reached for the hem and pulled the whole thing upwards, up so that it started to cover her stomach, then her breasts and finally her… The last thing she saw was Willow smiling as she dropped her own skirt over her face. Leaving her largely blind.
Leaving her only able to feel, rather than see, Willow’s fingers pulling at her panties. How the curls of hair there – once released – sprang upwards to be caressed by Willow’s breath.
Tara was sure that her lover would move the skirt sooner rather than later. They liked to look into each other’s eyes and – of course – there were some sassy breasts that Willow was rather keen on too.
Tara cooperated as Willow pulled off and tossed her underwear aside, with no hissing cat this time. And once the panties were gone, Willow manhandled – womanhandled – her. Arms wrapped around her thighs – lifting her butt and pulling her down the bed until her arms were fully stretched, then they pushed those thighs firmly apart.
Exposed… that was what Willow had wanted. She started to relax a little and Willow pushed them apart again, so that she was pushing her pussy towards her girl. But despite being so ready, so needy, Willow didn’t touch her there. It was only the shifting of the bed and the warm drift of Willow’s breath that betrayed where her interest really lay…. And it wasn’t just the obvious.
“Take the skirt off,” she said.
What was Willow doing? She wanted to see.
“Why?”
“So you can have my boobs too,” Tara lied. Willow knew the lie for what it was, of course.
Through the uplifted skirt she felt Willow’s hand move to her breast – still encased in her bra – but that’d go as soon as Willow moved the skirt.
“I can have them anyway,” Willow said with a firm squeeze. But Tara could tell she was wavering.
“Please?” she said. Not only was she bound and unable to touch Willow, but another of her senses was being denied to her.
“Why don’t you just say the words?” Willow asked, all too reasonably. “You can eat me out and we’re done.”
As if either of them wanted it to be that simple – despite how attractive the idea had consistently remained over the years. “No.”
“Then show me something, give me something for taking the skirt off your face,” Willow said. It sounded like she wanted an excuse rather than a convincing argument.
“Like what?” She was all chained up and her face was covered, about all she had to offer was her…
“I don’t know, be creative.”
So all she had to play with was her pussy? Except she couldn’t. How to…? Oh. That…
Could you belly dance on your back? Maybe, but it wasn’t her belly she was rippling.
“What’s this?” Willow wasn’t laughing, she sounded more… intrigued.
On the spur of the moment, Tara came up with an answer that made Willow yelp with laughter. “I call it my pussy dance.”
“Really?”
“Imagine the music,” Tara told her.
“Hmm, I knew I should’ve gone with you on that trip to Turkey.”
“Ah…” Tara exclaimed, putting effort into her slow undulation, hoping Willow could see how she was exercising her inner muscles too. “They don’t do it this way there. At least not that I saw.”
“So you did go see the belly dancers?” Willow wondered, a question she hadn’t actually asked when Tara had come back from the work trip.
“Only for cultural reasons,” Tara replied, her face safely hidden.
“Culture’s very important,” Willow agreed. “Do they hope for audience participation there?” As she asked the skirt was slowly being pulled away from Tara’s face. And then from her body.
“I never asked,” Tara said truthfully, still circling her lower body – muscles shaking a little from the effort. The difference between this and what she’d seen, apart from the position on the bed, was all in the focus of her undulations. It wasn’t about her belly at all – though she was working it.
No, she was tantalizing and luring Willow with her pussy. And now she could see, she knew she was succeeding. She watched as Willow’s eyes and sometimes her whole head followed the movements. Like Miss Kitty watching a bird through the window. As if there was a slow, but powerful, beat dictating how both of them moved.
And Tara honestly didn’t think there’d been a moment – since the very first time Willow had been between her legs – when her beautiful woman had paid this much attention to her pussy.
Oh, of course Willow had been down there hundreds of times. Thousands. Eaten, fingered, loved and fucked her. And other things that ended in ‘ed.’ But the movements in every dimension and direction were obviously hypnotic to Willow. She was following how Tara was moving her pussy. It made her feel sexy, sensual and – despite being chained to the bed – so damn powerful. She had something that Willow didn’t just want… she was fascinated by it.
Opening and closing her thighs – as much for her own pleasure as Willows – rotating, flipping and circling her hips. Working the muscles inside and out…
Oh, for music…
Oh, for Willow’s touch.
Or better yet, something more than a touch.
“I’m creative enough for you?” Tara wondered, wishing she could run her hands up and down her own body but… actually being restricted this way had probably liberated her to step outside of the pornographic touching she might’ve otherwise tried in a performance for her lover and into something that was… else.
“Yes, love… Yes.”
Willow reached over her, after running a hand along her thigh until Tara deliberately circled away. Her bra was removed and she was just as naked as Willow now.
Moving beneath her lover, but legs consistently parted in invitation. She was more than ready for Willow to pay attention to her creative juices.
Willow bent low, kissing her fleetingly, all over her neck and face. “I know you trust me love, but do you want me to be creative…?”
Tara wanted to say ‘no, just fuck me. Sit on my face. Just do it.’
But after a day filled with pleasure, even after getting so turned on for the umpteenth time… She was ready to moan a “Yes.”
“The lie back…”
The imagined beat didn’t stop. She kept moving her body – kept thrusting her pussy upwards towards Willow and kept making little noises when she couldn’t connect. Meanwhile her lover was reaching for the tray on the bedside table.
Tara tried to glance over but first Willow’s breast was in the way – something she’d never had cause to say all that often despite how perfectly formed she considered said breasts to be. Then Willow was holding one of the silk scarves in her line of sight.
She didn’t need to do that once she’d pushed Tara’s chin around to look straight up at her again.
Tara felt Willow’s belly down against hers – the wet heat of her sex too – as Willow eased down then sat up over her, straddling her and folding the scarf over on itself. Tara had the sneaking suspicion she knew what was coming. Or at least what the scarf was for.
She started to turn her head, to look at the table again, but a noise from Willow stopped her. “No. If you look, all I’ll do is fuck you.”
Tempting. So very, very tempting.
“You don’t want that,” Willow said. “I promise. Not just that.”
Tara resisted the urge to look, to satisfy her curiosity and to be fucked until she came on whatever Willow chose to pleasure her with. Instead she looked straight into her lover’s eyes and – when Willow reached out – lifted her head enough for the blindfold to be tightened around her head.
Willow slipped down her and for a moment they lay there, one on top of the other and moved against each other. Each of them – and she was sure it was the same for Willow – seeking that pressure against the centre’s of their lust and not quite finding enough of it.
Then Willow was moving again and Tara followed as far as she could. Until, even with the velvet lining, the cuffs dug into her wrists – a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure that suffused her whole body. Her pussy arched upwards seeking that thing that was Willow and finding only a hand that touched her raised butt – urging her to stay that way and even to move higher.
And then there was a rattle and she knew what the sound had been all that time ago when Willow had left her here on the bed.
She knew a little more of what was going to happen.
Intellectually she knew how it was going to feel, but she had no idea how she was going to react as she held her butt high up off the bed. Her torso a straight – though that was hardly the word – run from clit to throat.
Then the ice found her and she cried out. It burned cold against her hot skin as Willow applied it tentatively to her swollen labia. First one side and then the other. After only a second or two, the ice was withdrawn but it left behind a little trickle of water that crawled down her to the lowest part before dripping off onto the bed.
“Ohhhhh,” she groaned.
“Yes…” Willow said in reply and then the ice was back. This time on her mons, through her bush. And this time there was a longer run for the dribbles of liquid that were released by maybe a minute of swirls around her there… She was shivering, but it wasn’t the cold that was doing it to her.
Nor was it the sensation of tiny rivers of cold liquid crawling along her body, over her belly, her stomach and to her breasts before following the path of least resistance down the sides.
Tara had no idea how long she could hold herself like this, not under these conditions. Then the ice cube, obviously held in Willow’s mouth, was deposited in her belly button. “We’ll leave that there until you get it to your throat,” Willow laughed.
And how was she supposed to do that?
The ice, melting and making her skin numb with the intense cold, was beyond her control. It was hard enough not to ripple a muscle that’d throw it out entirely. Let alone control the flow of the meltwater by touch alone. Oh, she tried, she really did. But by the time she felt where the water was going it was far too late and it’d taken it’s own path down her body.
Willow, she knew, was watching and enjoying herself. Possibly more than she’d enjoyed the pussy dancing. “Come on, love… You really want to make it.”
“Maybe you should try,” Tara groaned as the most successful flow made it’s way a little way up the underside of her flattened breast and then ran down her side, soaking into the sheets where it was all getting a little wet.
But not as wet as she was between her legs.
“Oh, I don’t have your fine muscle control, love,” Willow said. “I’ve always been a bit of a spaz. Besides… I’m loving this.”
Finally the ice-cube melted to virtually nothing – she felt the tiny remnant flow down her body and then she was… done.
“You lose,” Willow said, kissing her labia tenderly.
So this was losing? It wasn’t so bad. If this was failure, why was Willow so afraid of it?
Then Willow pushed an ice-cube inside her and Tara cried out in pure shock.
“No!” Willow said, holding her butt up as she threatened to crash to the bed.
Tara could feel Willow’s hot breath against her sex as her lover’s shoulders were suddenly beneath her thighs, but that didn’t do anything to assuage the burning cold inside her previously heated pussy. Oh, the ice was melting quickly – but in this position gravity was taking the cold water deeper into her.
“Hnnn,” Tara groaned as the ice cube got smaller and smaller, slipping further into her as it decreased in size. The ripples of her mucles didn’t help, sucking it right inside her until finally it was… gone.
Or at least totally liquid.
Then Willow’s lips were at her sex, but not to pleasure her. Not to add heat to the mix. No… the suction, the encouragement to change her position was Willow’s signal to drain her of the evidence of her own heat.
She sighed as Willow slowly lowered her butt to the bed. It’d never be that intense again – at least not tonight. Now it’d happened – until her heat could build again – it wouldn’t burn quite so much. Would it?
On the other hand, this was Willow who was sucking on her pussy. Realistically, how long could it take to build that heat again anyway?
“Enjoy that?” Willow asked.
If they’d just been sat in the kitchen, sipping coffee, she’d have denied that could ever have done anything for her. But the Goddess knew the truth, and so did Willow.
Her answer was to move her hips as Willow’s lips retreated and there was another clink of ice against glass. It was easier this time. Willow’s breath was followed by the cold fire of the ice cube against her breast, circling her nipples one after the other. The shivers were signs of cold as well as pleasure. So was the increased stiffness of her already taut nipples.
Over and over Willow traced patterns over her body, always finding the places untouched by the cubes or their meltwater. Between the cubes – and how many could there be? – Willow lay atop her and they rubbed wetly together. The difference was that Willow could touch, stroke and explore where she liked.
She was stuck here… deliciously confined and straining against her bonds, not because she expected them to break, or even for Willow to take pity on her. No, she strained against them because of how it made her feel. The helplessness, no matter how much pressure she exerted, how much she strained her muscles.
“Fuck me,” Tara eventually moaned. “Fuck me now.”
“What if I want to take you up on your offer first?” Willow asked.
What? What offer? What had she said? Words had escaped her. Promises and requests. Bargains and demands. Anything for what she needed.
Willow showed her the answer rather than speaking it. Moving back up the bed, her intent obvious and deliciously sexy all the same. She hovered; obviously clutching the same headboard that Tara was cuffed to, holding her sex right over Tara’s face. To say that her need was obvious even to a blindfolded woman was an understatement of some magnitude. The heat, the scent…
“What if I sat on your face?” Willow asked. “What if I just did that?”
Tara jerked her head upwards, trying to kiss the lust-swollen flesh but Willow’s hand stopped her. Holding her just short. She could feel the heat, even from here.
“You wouldn’t even care, would you?” Willow surmised.
Oh, yes. She’d care. She needed something of Willow in her now. A tongue, a hand, a toy. Something. But she could fend off that need for as long as it’d take her to bring her lover to a shuddering orgasm. If anything it’d just make her need Willow more. One of the most sensual – and arousing – things in her world was getting Willow off.
Of course, their desires sometimes built at different times. But she’d long since found that – should Willow come her obviously in need – then by the time her woman called her name in the heights of passion, she’d be wet and ready to fuck like a rabbit.
A dykey rabbit anyway.
“Sit on my face or fuck me,” Tara said, imagining Willow’s pussy just out of reach. “You’re right. I don’t care. Just do something!” She strained against the cuffs to make her point, the edge of pain in her muscles just adding to the all-body sensation she was a slave to.
Willow grinned and lowered her pussy over Tara’s face. But she didn’t just sit on it. She was proving that she too had what it took to do a dance of her own. Even as she dragged her lips against Tara’s she was pulling away and lifting, circling and teasing as Tara tried to lick at her.
It was a game they’d played many times, of course, but as Willow’s hips circled, dipped and rose over her face Tara knew that she couldn’t just grab Willow’s thighs and pull her down. Not this time. This time the only thing that was going to get Willow down where she belonged was desire and the urgency of her need to come.
So all Tara could do was try to build that need. Swiping her tongue through Willow’s sex, focusing on the clit when she could. From time to time Willow did give her a few seconds of stillness and then Tara slipped her tongue inside or swept it right around her lover’s clit. All she was focused on was bringing Willow to the point she couldn’t do anything other than bear down and demand completion.
It took longer than she’d have thought, but she could tell by the way that Willow was writhing at the slightest touch, the way she was breathing and gasping that the moment would come… now.
Willow’s wet, heated sex pushed firmly down on her face in exactly the position Willow knew she’d come most easily in. If Tara was any judge, her lovers fingers would be grasping the headboard so hard they’d leave marks as Willow rode her face, but never again moved that most sensitive spot out of Tara’s reach.
The snatched breaths, the sounds emanating from Willow’s throat gave her plenty of warning that the time was now. She rode out the shuddering, loud and wet orgasm between Willow’s thighs, continuing to lick at her lover’s pussy during and after the moments they’d been building to.
Without moving, Willow acknowledged her efforts. “Okay… okay… I have to admit you’ve earned it.”
“What?” Tara asked, muffled by her lover’s… muff.
She imagined there was a glint in Willow’s eye and, if they’d gotten those vouchers on an earlier day, Tara might’ve supposed Willow was about to get creative on her. And she still might, but not with anything they hadn’t tried before. Right? That was what that tone meant, right?
She felt the weight shift and Willow was moving away from her… She waited for where it’d go and surmised that Willow had actually left the bed entirely. Yes, the cupboard squeaked and just from that clue Tara knew something of what was going to happen.
No more ice-cubes. No more messing around.
She was about to get fucked. Eager, she parted her legs as the bed shifted between them, felt Willow’s gentle fingers teasing at her sex but carefully staying away from her clit. No, Willow wasn’t about to waste what was almost certainly the last orgasm of a day that’d been chock full of them.
“What?” she asked, unable to manage more than that one word as Willow’s fingers dipped into her soaking pussy.
“Something for both of us,” Willow replied, moving up over her and reaching back once again when she was in position.
The answer gave it away… Tara wasn’t even surprised when she felt the pressure of the toy at the entrance to her sex. She just groaned as the gel filled toy slipped into her. It was cool, but nowhere near as cold as the ice had been. And it responded to her heat quickly while Willow bent the other end into the right position for her.
Then they were pressed together at the groin, the toy deep inside both of them. Tara closed her eyes, making no difference to what she could see, but every difference to how she felt.
Oh, this was going to be delicious. Willow – who’d just come – was going to fuck her by fucking herself. But Tara wasn’t about to lie still and just take it. No, she wanted to control her lover’s pleasure just as surely as Willow was going to control hers.
“Touch me,” she begged and was relieved that – as they fucked each other – Willow’s hands started to enjoy her body. Her breasts, still damp but long neglected. Her belly, between both their legs… From how Willow whimpered when those fingers were absent from her body, Tara could only assume that her lover was touching herself alternately with caressing the sensitive flesh around her clit.
The toy surged inside them both and the sounds they made were in synch as their movements came together and pushed their pleasure along. A couple of readjustments by Willow, but otherwise they managed to control it with nothing but their pussies and the movements of their hips.
Her hands, cuffed uselessly above her head ached to be on Willow’s body, just as Willow’s were on hers. But it wasn’t to be, even when Willow reached out – as she got close to what she knew was going to be a shattering orgasm – and pushed the blindfold from her eyes. “I want you to see me,” Willow said.
There was no more need for mystery. What was happening was inevitable and unstoppable. She watched as Willow started to come first – but the sounds her lover made, the shaking of her body and the look in her eyes as orgasm hit her just set Tara off too. By the time the ripples of pleasure faded from her body, Willow was lying on her, clinging to her.
“Oh, love…”
Tara kissed her lover, but she couldn’t hold Willow as she wanted to. “Not - ” she was breathing hard. “Not exactly a straight girl’s present.” She jangled the chain that connected the bracelets.
“No…” Willow agreed. “Goddess… I can’t… I haven’t… Not since…”
“This morning?” Tara giggled.
“About then…” Willow was stroking her hair, pushing it back from her eyes where the thrashing of her head had left some strands.
“You have to try this,” Tara said, meaning the cuffs
“Hot huh?”
“What do you think?” Tara bucked her hips, pushing the double-ended dong into each of their depths again.
“Stop…” Willow said. “I can’t do this again. Not now. Not without sleep.”
“Oh, thank the goddess,” Tara breathed. “I thought you’d make us go again.”
“No,” Willow said firmly. “Mark this day, it might be the only time I say ‘no’ to you. No, no and again no. I’m…” She searched for the word.
“Tired?”
“All fucked out…” Willow reached back and slipped the toy from them both, then rested her head on Tara’s breast, kissing gently but without suggestion of further frolics. It was a kiss of love rather than passion as Willow pulled the sheet up over them. “I could’ve sworn there was something you were supposed to say…”
Oh, that. “You’re beautiful. And I love you.”
Willow just murmured, “Ditto.” Her eyes were obviously heavy.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Tara said. “You need to unfasten me.”
“Mmmm,” Willow murmured. “Where are the keys?”
Tara blinked. “You don’t know?”
Willow’s eyes snapped open. “Don’t you?”
Last edited by
Katharyn on Fri Mar 07, 2008 3:56 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-------------------------
If I wanted a little pussy, I've got my own to play with.
Chance in *Chance*
-------------------------
Thanks.
!
And this I found to be powerfully telling and very romantic...strange? 
No not strange. 
I think it was your intention.It fits very well in with the mood of the story.When the mood is set such as it is this is a perfect way to describe just how very much these two love each other.That the getting off and the off getting??are for them just as powerful an experience on either end.It is a beautiful line .To me anyway. 
