by Sandy Lowe
“Good girls answer when they’re spoken to.”
Oh. Right. “Sorry.”
“Not good enough.” There was a sternness in her tone that made me ache to please her.
“I’m sorry, Kennari.”
“Better. Now, on your hands and knees for me.”
It occurred to me that she might spank me. I’d never been spanked before, had never thought I wanted to be.
But instead of slapping her hand across my ass, she caressed it. Those strong fingers kneaded my flesh, gave me a preview of what they might do to the rest of me. Her other hand moved between my legs. She slicked two fingers along my slit. I’d never been this wet before. I wanted her inside me so badly.
The sound registered before the sting. I heard it, then I felt the heat and pain radiate from the side of my ass where her hand had made contact. She’d decided to spank me after all.
“Sometimes good girls need a reminder to be good,” she said.
I knew the way to answer her, but so help me, I wanted her to spank me again. “Uh-huh.”
She slapped the other cheek this time. The sensation was exquisite—pain mixed with pleasure, but something more. Something I couldn’t quite describe.
“Do you need a lot of reminding, Eryn?”
God, the way she said my name turned me into a puddle. As much as I enjoyed what was happening, the need to be compliant won out. “Yes, Kennari. I do.”
“I’ll remember that.” She smoothed her hand over my ass, soothing the lingering burn. The other dipped between my legs and she plunged two fingers deep inside me.
I bucked against her instinctively. “Fuck.”
“Oh, I will. But you have to be a good girl and keep still. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes, Kennari.”
I used all the mental reserves I had left to do as instructed. It wasn’t easy. Her fingers plunged into me deeply, but she seemed in no hurry. Like she had all night. Which, I guess, she did.
She added a third finger and I pressed my hips back to meet her. I couldn’t help it. She stopped moving altogether. I stilled. Waited.
“That’s a good girl,” she said.
We continued like this forever. It was kind of hypnotic. I wanted to come, but she held me in a trance. Without commands or tying me up, she’d put me completely under her spell.
I was turning the idea of that over in my mind when her other hand reached around and started stroking my clit. Without warning, without even feeling it build, I came. Hard. My whole body went stiff and then every muscle I had trembled at once.
I might have collapsed onto the bed, but she held me in place. Her arms were strong and sure. She eased them away with more tenderness than I expected. Then she flicked open my bra. “On your back.”
I lay down and she slid the bra down my arms, tossed it aside. Despite my uninhibited orgasm a moment before, I felt shy under her gaze, exposed. I had to resist covering myself with my arms.
“You’re stunning,” she said. “You have no reason to feel self-conscious.”
How had she invaded my thoughts so thoroughly, and in no time at all? I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I merely nodded.
“I’m going to taste you. It’s very important that you don’t move. I want to take my time.”
I nodded. She gave me a stern look. “Yes, Kennari.”
With the same leisurely pace as before, she settled herself between my legs. She pressed gentle kisses along my thighs. I took a slow, steadying breath, preparing myself to be teased. And then she drove her tongue into me.
My whole body arched. She pulled away. I stilled.
She slid her arms under my legs, wrapping them around my thighs and placing her hands on the front of my hips. Her grasp was tight. I wouldn’t be able to move if I wanted to.
Her mouth returned with as much force as before. She ravished me, drove me higher and harder than I thought myself capable. Her fingers dug into me. Realizing they’d leave marks was oddly thrilling.
The second orgasm built slowly. It started deep inside my abdomen, a vibration that grew into a quiver and spread like molten steel through my veins. I couldn’t move into it, or against it. I had no choice but to let it take me.
It left me panting and weak. I wondered if it would be bad form to tell her I was done—sated and spent. Then I remembered her comment about pushing me to my limit. And my safe word.
Refusing to even think it, I decided to try a different approach. I lifted my head, offered my most alluring smile. “That was amazing.”
She smirked. “Good.”
“Do I get a turn?”
She pushed herself to a kneeling position. “You do not.”
In any other circumstance, I’d press the matter. I could tell, though, that she wasn’t being coy. I could also tell that she wasn’t done with me.
“Don’t move.”
She disappeared into the bathroom. I heard a cabinet door open and close. She returned with a bottle of massage oil. How did she even know that was there? “Do I get to give you a massage at least?”
“You do not.” Her tone told me it had nothing to do with disinterest and everything to do with control. “Scoot up the bed. Lie lengthways, use the pillows. Make yourself comfortable.”
A second of confusion gave way to understanding the kind of massage she had in mind. In spite of myself, I was turned on again. I did as she asked and nestled myself into the mound of pillows at the head of the bed.
“Open your legs.”
I did and she sat between them, legs crossed. She still wore the boxers; her short black hair remained perfectly in place. Her eyes were focused intently on mine. She might have been the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. And for some inexplicable reason, she wanted me.
I marveled at that while she poured massage oil over my belly and thighs. She added more to her hands before setting the bottle to the side.
It started innocently enough—a smooth glide of her warm hands over my skin. It didn’t take long, however, for her thumbs to shift. She massaged my labia, over either side of my clit. Before I knew it, she’d worked three fingers into me and was massaging me from the inside. Then a fourth.
“You’re going to take all of me.”
I swallowed. I’d had fantasies of being fisted, but had never done it. Had only tried once, really, but Amanda grew bored and impatient before we got very far. Kennari hadn’t phrased it as a question, but I nodded anyway.
She continued to work me, adding her pinkie, then tucking her thumb into the center of her hand. The widest part of her, right across her knuckles, pressed against me. It didn’t hurt, but my body resisted her enough that I didn’t think it would happen.
She didn’t force it, but she didn’t stop. She twisted her hand back and forth in a way that drove me crazy. With her left hand, she made slow circles around my clit. I clamped around her fingers, wanting more of her even if I couldn’t do it.
“That’s my good girl.”
I don’t know if it was the sound of her voice, or her words, or a sleight of hand on her part, but her entire hand slid inside me. Not only was it inside, she’d curled it into a fist that filled me to utter perfection. I gasped at the sheer intimacy of it.
“Shh. I’ve got you.”
The gentleness of her words stood in stark contrast to the commands of before, the spanking. She kept her hand still for a moment while I acclimated to the new and heightened sensations. And then, as if sensing my body relax around her, she started a slow rocking motion.
Such a subtle movement, but it managed to hit every nerve ending. I opened my eyes and found her gaze locked on my face. We stayed like that for I don’t know how long—bodies melded, me completely at her mercy.
I expected another quaking orgasm, but this felt more like the rippling of a stream. Quiet, almost peaceful. The kind of orgasm that made me feel whole.
She stayed with me for a while, whispering endearments and telling me I was beautiful. She pulled out gentl
y, but it still felt like a loss. When she kissed my temple and said she had to leave, I knew better than to ask her to stay.
I slept like the dead and woke with just enough time to shower and have a cup of coffee in my room before checkout. I got dressed in a daze, trying to recapture moments of the night. If it wasn’t for the soreness between my thighs, I might have convinced myself it had all been a figment of my imagination.
I finished packing my bag and cast a wistful glance around the room before heading downstairs. It was probably for the best that I had no idea who she was and would likely never see her again. But I couldn’t shake the emptiness that came with the knowledge.
I made my way to the front desk, setting my bag down so I could formally check out. I took a steadying breath and looked up. And there she was, literally, standing behind the reception desk. I stared, unable to formulate words.
She wore an Irish wool sweater and gray pants. Her smile was casual, but her eyes were anything but. “Did you enjoy your stay at the lodge?”
She worked here? How was that even possible? I looked for a name tag, but she wasn’t wearing one. My mind raced, trying to reconcile the woman before me with the one I’d been with the night before. It was like putting a bad equation into a calculator—all I got back was an error message.
Before I could pull together a coherent sentence, a man emerged from the office behind the desk. He smiled at me before turning his attention to her. “I’m going to make sure the cross country trails are groomed, then I’ll head over to the south lift.”
She glanced at him. “Thanks, Jim.”
“You got it, boss.”
Boss? I was growing more confused by the second. “You’re a manager here?”
This time, her smile matched the devilish gleam in her eyes. She extended a hand. “Kate Johnson. I’m the owner.”
My jaw dropped. I shook her hand. “Eryn West.”
“And did you enjoy your stay, Eryn?”
I nodded slowly. Shock gave way to the realization that, if she was the owner, she’d be here if I returned. “I did. Very much.”
“Did you ski at all? We’ve had such a great base the last few weeks.”
“I didn’t.” I watched as she printed my receipt, handed me a pen to sign it with. “But I have to say, the other amenities exceeded my expectations.”
I had the satisfaction of watching her eyes rake over me. “I hope that means you’ll be back.”
“I hadn’t planned on it, but I think I may have to reconsider.”
She tucked away the signed copy, handed me a duplicate. “I’d recommend the summer. There are some excellent outdoor activities. And our summer cabins offer outdoor fireplaces and relative seclusion from the main lodge.”
My brain instantly imagined her fucking me on a blanket under the stars. “That sounds like a personal invitation.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “I’d love to have you again.”
Let Go
Rion Woolf
Rion is a lesbian erotica writer who loves everything erotic and everything water. Her work has appeared in The Dirty Dirty and Shameless Behavior and Girls on Campus anthologies. Her latest piece, “The Perfect Blend,” appeared in the Girls Next Door anthology edited by Sandy Lowe and Stacia Seaman. She can be reached through her Facebook page at facebook.com/Rion-Woolf-1682678558621476/.
I stood at the path’s entrance, not sure whether or not I should follow the wooded trail. I checked once again for the cell phone in my pocket and gave in to my second thoughts. What exactly was I doing, anyway? Meeting a near stranger for an evening hike and picnic in an unfamiliar forest? This wasn’t like me; I didn’t regularly engage in such risky behavior. I was an emergency department doctor, after all; my life was all about prevention and healing and most of all, routine. Everything about this meeting with the handsome state park ranger, Skylar, was anything but routine.
I’d come to New River Gorge in West Virginia for a long weekend of whitewater rafting, hiking, and camping. My best friends, Rachel and Helen, partners in love and business, insisted I join them for the weekend away.
“For the love of the gods, Lucy, if anyone needs a weekend of fun, it’s you,” Rachel said one morning over coffee in the hospital’s eatery.
“Let’s be honest, y’all. Lucy needs a right-solid fucking,” Helen added.
I nearly spat out my too-bitter mouthful of coffee. “Hey! I’m doing okay.”
Rachel and Helen shared a knowing glance that ended with both of them shaking their heads.
“Come on, Lucy,” Rachel said. “How long has it been since she left? Eighteen months? Longer?”
I finished my coffee in one giant swallow. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in love.”
“Who said anything about love?” Helen asked and Rachel laughed.
I rolled my eyes at Helen. “There is zero chance I’d find a hot woman over a weekend of hiking and whitewater rafting.”
“It’s a lesbian getaway weekend!” Rachel said. “I think your chances are a little higher than zero.”
I went to return my coffee cup on my way back to work.
My friends called after me. “Our tent is big enough for three. Come with us to New River Gorge!”
I wasn’t really sure what made me take Rachel and Helen up on the weekend getaway, although it certainly wasn’t the offer of space in their tent. Maybe it was the promise of fresh air and sunshine, both of which I rarely encountered with my long work hours. Or maybe it was the thought of spending a weekend around women who weren’t suffering terribly from one ailment or another, women who were thriving rather than dying.
Skylar emerged from the wooded path. She stepped closer and gave me a big smile that made my heart flip. I wanted to touch those perfect dimples in her cheeks, kiss those dreamy little pools. It had been much too long since I’d met a woman who made my heart skip with only a smile. I shivered, my thoughts turning to my ex. Hadn’t she been the last woman in my life who could ratchet up my heartbeat with her mere presence or render my knees weak with just a wink? I tried to push those thoughts away. Skylar wasn’t asking me to move in with her—it was only an invitation for an evening together.
Skylar stood tall before me, hands on her hips and a red bandana tied around her brow to keep her dark bangs out of her face. She showed off her summer golden tan with a sleeveless T-shirt. It was the first time I’d seen Skylar without her brown state park uniform on, and my eyes lingered on the hard muscles of her shoulders and arms. A backpack pulled her worn white shirt tight in all the right places.
“Hi,” I said, with a sudden shyness that felt big enough to swallow me whole.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Skylar said. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
I shrugged. “That makes two of us.”
Skylar grinned again, and my insides melted. She reached out her hand. “You ready?”
I considered her palm for a moment, her body turned in a way that opened up to me, so trusting of a woman she’d met only forty-eight hours ago at a training event for whitewater rafting. Maybe it was that confidence that made me take hold of her hand, that pushed me to braid my fingers with hers and marvel at the heat generated between our palms.
We walked together along the dirt path among trees and stone cliffs so big they seemed to be as old as the earth itself. August’s late afternoon sun filtered through the branches, and its warmth spilled across my shoulders. I noticed the power in her thighs, each pushing against the fabric of her shorts, and wondered what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around me. She hadn’t let go of my hand, and her touch was surprisingly gentle despite the strength of her body. I thought about how her fingertips would feel careening down my neck and over the swell of my breasts.
Pay attention! I reminded myself over and over while Skylar told me about her job with the state park and how she led whitewater rafting trips every weekend of the summer. She told me about her love of the rocky ledges and miles of paths
that she knew as well as her childhood home. She told me about how she’d never be able to leave this land that held her heart. I told Skylar about my patients, about the way my heart raced when emergency vehicles pulled up to the doors with a patient in crisis, and about the way my heart almost burst with gratitude when we were able to save that same patient. I caught Skylar watching me intently as I spoke, her gaze lingering on my mouth. A sudden blush consumed me, a flush that rose up my body from my groin, a heat that stole my breath.
I dropped Skylar’s hand and stopped walking. I looked out over the edge of the path to give myself a chance to find my breath once again. What in the world was happening to me? I wasn’t the kind of woman to swoon. Then again, Skylar wasn’t at all like the women I’d met at the hospital.
“So, your work is enough for you?” Skylar asked from behind me. “You don’t miss having a partner?”
I shrugged. “I had a long-term relationship, but it didn’t work out. She couldn’t deal with my long work hours.”
“I see.” Skylar nodded. “You haven’t let go yet, have you?”
“Let go of what?”
“Her.”
I started down the path again, moving ahead of Skylar. I didn’t want to talk about my ex and was grateful that we were moving toward the growing sound of falling water. The path narrowed for a few minutes until it finally opened up, glorious and engulfing in its beauty. I stopped in my tracks and took in the vista of a pounding waterfall just beyond the cliff’s steep drop into the gorge below us.
Then Skylar was at my side, and we stood together near the sandstone ledge. I watched the water roll and pound below us and reveled in the cool mist that filtered up from the waterfall to my hot face. Skylar leaned into me, and the warmth of her well-muscled body softened my resolve to ignore my desire for her. My hand reached for hers as my heart pounded at the base of my throat. I felt the curve of her breast against my bicep, and my breath hitched with the sudden image of me learning all of Skylar’s curves with my tongue.