Coming Together: At Last, Volume One

by Alessia Brio, L. A. Banks, Lisabet Sarai

  She followed the first finger with another, the palm of her hand spreading open against my pubis. My flesh responded to the raindrops of sensation she teased from it. Great pangs of longing for more pressure swept over me, taking away my last bit of shyness. I spread my legs wide and tilted my hips up. As she moved her hand against me, I felt her fingers flexing inside and the soft palm of her hand closing over the swell of my clitoris again.

  It was such sweet, sweet rapture. The intricate binds of pleasure and the need for more tightened on me, and I pressed myself closer, answering the rolling of her fingers with the movement of my hips. She looked so aroused, yet strangely collected, as if absorbing each sensation with a controlled appreciation. She nodded, watching me, her lips parted, encouraging me to move with her. She watched my face as the movement of her hand drew wave after wave of sensation up inside me, bringing me suddenly to orgasm. I moaned deeply as my hips rolled further apart with heat and density. My orgasm buoyed up, before washing over my whole body in hot release. It became so intense it was almost painful.

  Tilly stroked her hand across my hipbones, raising the delicious heat to the surface there, and then bent to touch that sensitive place nestled in my sex, gently kissing the tender folds and the nub of desire that throbbed, until my whole body hummed, the glow of my climax drawn out longer and longer. My limbs shivered gently. I felt strange and glorious with that weight floating away inside me.

  Tilly looked down at me, eyes shining, her lips moist. She whispered words I didn't understand, but they felt close and intimate, and I slid my arm around her neck, drawing her closer. The musk of our bodies filled the air. My hand was already against her hip, tracing the curve and plane of it. I remembered her attention to my hips, how good it had felt, and leaned over to kiss a trail along the line under my fingers. Tilly sighed deeply, whispered quietly in her own tongue again, then rolled onto her back.

  I moved across her stomach and trailed along the other hip, kissing the surface lightly with my lips, responding to the pleasurable sounds that she made. Her skin tasted of salt, and smelt of desire. I slid my mouth over to her navel and sucked deeply, pushing my tongue in and circling the crevice, exploring. Tilly moaned and then chuckled.

  "You have done this before?” she breathed. I lifted my head, my hands sliding to her breasts.

  "No, but I am glad I'm doing it now, with you.” I was rapt with pleasure. I climbed over her, straddling her. I looked down at the brush of pale hair in her groin. Between the soft down, the hood of her clit puckered and exposed itself to me. I slid one finger into the slit of her sex, resting it over the nub of her clit. My legs moved around one of her thighs as I moved down, pressing my wetness onto the hard surface of her knee. Then I pushed my finger inside her, and she opened her free leg wide, allowing me to slide my thumb against her clitoris and move my hand over her groin.

  My fingers discovered the smooth slippery walls of Tilly's sex. I wanted to cover her body with mine, and straightened out to lie against her, keeping my hand deep inside her and propelling it with the thrust of my hips. Tilly bucked against my hand and hips and with a gentle cry, spreading her arms in release. I was still grinding against her thigh, but the rich cream inside her beckoned to me. I slid down and embraced the stiffness of her clitoris with my lips, her moist flesh pulsing against my mouth. My fingers, damp from her, rubbed frantically against my sex to finish what had been started.

  Tilly's thigh trembled beneath my breasts as a second climax rose and seeped through her body. I was doing this: I was bringing her this pleasure. The thrill empowered me, and my mouth sought and begged her flesh to enjoy it even more. My mouth was hungry and desperate. I rubbed another pang of release from my lusting clit. Her hands went into my hair, tugging. She held my head in place when her body bucked and writhed. When she fell limp, my curious tongue stole inside her for a taste.

  Warm and pungent, I took the precious nectar into my mouth. I bathed my cheeks in her moistness, intoxicated. Her skin tingled with vitality against my face. I turned to kiss the soft folds of her sex flesh, my own radiant sex still pressed against the flex of her foot. When I had licked the heavy sweetness from her, inside and out, I gently kissed a line up to my friend's mouth, to end with a deep mutual kiss. She stroked my hair, and I looked at her in wonder. This language needed few words.

  * * * *

  Arabella walked into the kitchen with the quick sharp steps that indicated her busy-ness. We were sitting over tea, admiring a tray of butterfly buns we had just finished icing. She gave Tilly a smile and a nod and picked up one of the buns. In between delicate bites, she told me my mother was coming to collect me the next day.

  "We've enjoyed having you here, Sally. Mmm, delicious.” There was a dusting of icing sugar among the heavy face powder on her cheek; it didn't look out of place. “If you want to come back next summer, we would be happy to welcome you again.” She took another butterfly bun with her as she trotted out of the kitchen.

  I glanced at Tilly, who stared at the table in front of her, moving her cup slowly round in her fingers, as if absorbed by its outline. We sat in silence for a few moments, and then I walked over to stand behind her, my hands resting on her shoulders. “Can I sleep with you, in your bed tonight? I could sneak out from my dormitory."

  Tilly covered my hands with hers, and leaned her head back against my body. “Oh yes, Sally, little one. Yes, you can.” She pressed my hands firmly onto her shoulders. I bent to rest my cheek against hers.

  * * * *

  We wrote, sporadically. We lost touch in our twenties, while she was traveling. I got drawn into the women's movement—found it wasn't only Norwegian women who made love to each other—and began a successful career in interior design. Then we found each other again, through a Fawcett-McLaughlin's newsletter, and visited one another across the North Sea. I even learned some Norwegian phrases, though English is our favorite tongue, bar one.

  Later, our families met and mingled. Her eldest son and my daughter fell in love and made beautiful children together. We laughed and cried with joy over it. Now, at Christmas time in England and during summer holidays in Norway, our grandchildren play together while we take time away from the buzz of our everyday lives to bake together, again.

  Matilda is still strong and beautiful, though her hair is touched with gray now, and I am still scruffy and scrawny, though my hair is touched with gray, too. And Matilda still has that magic touch and that secret smile that says more to me than all the languages she had gone on to learn could ever say.

  * * * *

  www.saskiawalker.com

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  Changes

  © Cerise Noire

  Standing in the shower, Wes smiled in anticipation. She'd been waiting for this day much too long. Her hands traveled the easy slope of her shoulders, the hills of her breasts, and the soft mound of her belly. She was tempted to let her fingers slip between her thighs, but thought better of it. After all, she and Mike had promised each other to resist self-pleasure for the week leading up to their meeting. Wes wondered if that had been as challenging for him as it had for her. Before her hands could begin to wander again, she stepped out of the shower and toweled herself off.

  She picked a scented lotion and made sure that every inch of her chocolate skin would be perfectly soft for his touch. Once she was done, she chose a bra and panty set. The top was black and trimmed with lace, and the bottoms were matching crotchless boyshorts.

  Finally, she slipped on a light, airy summer dress. It clung to her heavy breasts, nipped in at the waist, and then skimmed over her womanly hips. She stepped into a pair of sandals and picked up her car keys. Before leaving, she grabbed the things she'd set by the door earlier. With her arms almost full, she walked to her car and placed everything on the back seat.

  On the way to the airport, she could barely concentrate on the road. Good thing it was still well before rush hour. When she saw the bright orange sign indicating the arrival l
ane, her heartbeat sped up. After six long months apart, she would finally see him again. And this time, he was here to stay. That thought alone made her mouth water.

  * * * *

  They'd met online almost two years earlier on a comic book forum. Wes wasn't looking for love there; in her book, online dating was a rather silly idea. During her first week on the forum, she had mentioned working as a teacher, and she had received a private message from Istakevamps85 soon after. He was nearing his college graduation and was considering the teaching profession. She had messaged him back, and three months later, the correspondence hadn't stopped. She told him her real name was Weslie. He was Michael. Six months after that first message, she was waking up a few minutes earlier every morning so that she could read his messages before going to work. They exchanged pictures. He was tall, lean, and at the time, his dark hair just teased his shoulders. He'd said he found her girly buzz cut cute.

  As the months passed, she felt herself growing impatient when a day passed without one of his vitriolic messages about reality TV or the state of world affairs. By the end of year one, Wes knew she had fallen in love with his personality. She'd tried to talk herself out of it. After all, he was younger than her, and while Wes lived in Florida, Mike was several states away in New Mexico. According to her self-imposed set of rules, those were two strikes against him. Oh, and he was a virgin: strike three. Yet when he messaged and told her he loved her, Wes told him the truth. That she loved him, too. Then she flew over to meet him during her next break from work. So much for her rules.

  * * * *

  Now as Wes pulled into the pickup area, she saw him. He stood leaning slightly against the wall, effortlessly handsome as always. With his messy black curls, dark aviator sunglasses, and day-old stubble, he could have passed for a rock star traveling incognito. Wes pulled over, and stepped out of the car. In her haste, she left her door opened, as an officer quickly pointed out. She closed the door and ran toward her man. She stopped for a moment, then threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. By now, the officer was impatiently pointing at the sign that read Pickup and Loading Only. Wes and Mike quickly picked up the luggage and got in the car. The moving truck wouldn't get there for another two days.

  "How was the flight? Not too tiring?” Wes asked. She wasn't sure why she'd asked, because Mike didn't look tired at all. In fact, he looked quite refreshed and appetizing.

  "It was fine,” he said, though he seemed as distracted as she was. She was quite sure she'd seen him gaze at her cleavage and lick his sensual lips. He'd been fond of her breasts since their first night together.

  It had been during her visit. Wes had spent the flight thinking of everything that could go wrong during her stay. Maybe he would chew with his mouth opened. Maybe he would find her fat rather than curvaceous. Maybe there would be no chemistry between them. By the time Wes had gotten off the plane, she was seriously considering turning back. Then she'd seen him; he looked just as nervous as she was. He was pacing back and forth, holding not a clichéd red rose, but a single stem of Venus's looking-glass. They'd hugged. The increased tempo of her heartbeat assured her that chemistry would not be a problem.

  During the ride to his place, there had been uncomfortable silences and polite chitchat. Finally, as he was giving her a tour of the house, Mike had stopped and turned around to say something. Wes hadn't been looking and walked right into him, her nose hitting his chest.

  "You okay?” he'd asked.

  Wes had looked up, and rather than answer, she'd risen to the tip of her toes and pressed her lips against his. After an awkward second, their tongues played together, exploring newfound territory.

  The tension then seemed to evaporate. Mike cooked her dinner, and the conversation became much more animated and natural. After a few episodes of the original Batman series, jet lag had caught up with her.

  He'd shown her to his bed and started to walk toward the door. Wes grabbed his hand.

  "Stay awhile,” she said. “Please."

  He took off his shoes and lay beside her. They'd kissed again, with more confidence. This time, Wes had let her hands wander along the lines of his back while his own crept under the hem of her shirt. Wes shivered as his fingers grazed the skin of her belly. Mike stopped, as if asking for her permission. She smiled, and he removed her shirt. When her breasts were revealed, the red lace contrasting with her brown skin, Mike had looked at them with such reverence that Wes felt herself blush. Mike had rubbed his cheek against them before placing light kisses all over the soft flesh.

  "Wes, red light!"

  "Wha—"

  "Red light,” he said again, bringing her back to reality before she drove into the path of an oncoming truck. Good thing one of them was still paying attention to the road.

  They made it to their destination without any more close calls. They didn't go back to her apartment; that would wait until the morning. Instead, Wes drove up to a small property surrounded by lush palm trees and towering weeping willows, sheltering it from the eyes of curious passersby. Mike looked at her, a surprised expression on his face, and Wes smiled, grabbed his hand, and led him toward the main house. Once there, she checked them in. She and Mike followed an attendant down a white pebble path, past a white trellis gazebo to their suite. It was actually a small cottage, with a red brick foundation offering a sharp contrast to the white walls. It was right on the edge of the estate, nestled amidst fragrant, blooming orange trees, and flanked by two bushes of Gallic roses.

  Once inside, Wes said, “You must be tired from your flight, honey. Why don't you take a hot bath while I get some things ready?"

  As she watched him walk toward the bathroom, it took all of her willpower not to follow him. While he was in the tub, Wes took out the wine, fruits, and delectable eats she had packed, and placed them in the fridge for later. She opened her other bag and took out a bottle of fruity warming massage lotion, placing it on the nightstand. Next, she pulled out a couple of scented candles and arranged them around the room. She decided to leave the rest of her surprises in the bag for the time being.

  Just as she closed the bag, she felt Mike's gaze on her. She turned around to see him standing there looking at her, his skin still steaming from the bath, and a towel wrapped around his waist. The sight sent a surge of heat from her face to the crimson flesh between her thighs. Her mouth watered, and her fingers tingled. Goosebumps covered the surface of her skin.

  She sat on the bed, and motioned for him to join her. He laid down supine, looking up at her in that way that made her feel beautiful. She kissed him, and then told him to flip over. She grabbed the bottle lotion off of the nightstand before straddling his back. Pouring some in her palms, she rubbed her hand together to warm it up. Then she began to knead his back, starting just above the towel, relishing the feel of his smooth, perfect, buttermilk skin under her fingers. As Wes worked her way up to his shoulders, Mike began to shift slightly under her. She watched the slick sinews of his lean back flex and relax and couldn't help but want a taste. She took a long lick up his spine, from the edge of the towel to the Aztec symbol tattooed between his shoulders, and then trailed her nails down each side of his back.

  He growled that low growl that made her inner flesh quiver and flipped over abruptly, toppling her over in the process. Wes landed on her back with a giggle.

  "You're overdressed,” Mike said, as the towel fell from his hips.

  He pulled the dress up and over her head. He began to kiss and nibble her neck, knowing it would make her moan. It always did. Then he kissed her hard, his tongue fighting her own. He reached behind her to unhook her bra, and he smiled wickedly as her breasts burst free. He grabbed the bottle Wes had left on the bed and drizzled the cold liquid on her chest, making her shiver. He took his time massaging the lotion into her skin, making her breasts slick as he teased them. Then he blew on them softly, so the lotion would heat up. Wes whimpered at the pleasing new sensation. She felt Mike harden, as if her pleasure fed his ow
n.

  Wes pulled him up until his erection rested between her breasts. She held them together, enfolding him as he slid back and forth, coming just far enough for her to taste the liquid beading at the tip. She knew he would enjoy it. On that first night during her first visit, it had been his first request after he'd lavished her breasts with kisses, licks, and bites. He panted as he enjoyed the soft, heated mounds cradling him. Wes wondered if he was thinking about that first night, too. The sounds of their flesh rubbing together and of his ragged breathing were making her ache with need.

  Mike slid down her body and settled next to her, as if he'd smelled her arousal. He frowned when he noticed her knees held tightly together. Wes gave him a wicked smile before spreading her legs for him, revealing her panties’ special feature. He licked his lips as if she'd presented him with the tastiest of desserts—like the creamy cheesecake he enjoyed so much. He'd made one for her when she'd visited him.

  Soon Mike was teasing her, tracing her outer lips with his tongue. He caressed her slit, which stood out red and glistening with light, wet strokes. He switched to quick, hard licks then back to slowly again. He needed no directions; her moans and writhing body told him all he needed to know. By the time Mike trapped her swollen clit between his lips, Wes was dizzy with lust, all her senses focused on her impending climax. Mike slipped one finger inside her, slowly sliding it in and out, searching, exploring. A second digit joined the first. Wes whimpered. Mike sucked harder, keeping the rhythm of his fingers. Wes fell over the edge, crying out as she arched her body off the bed. When her body stopped trembling, Mike looked up at her, with love in his eyes and her juices on his face.

  Wes pulled him up and kissed him, pressing her body against his. They rolled around on the bed, running their hands over each other's bodies, kissing, biting, laughing, sighing until Mike landed on top of her again. Wes closed her eyes, immersing herself in Mike's kiss while his hands cradled her head. She gasped as he entered her, his lips still on her. Wes instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, moaning as he began to thrust, deep and smooth. She pulled him closer so she could feel his skin against hers.