by Gia Sola
“Why, it’s right between my legs. Where else would it be?”
“You’ll have to show me sometime.”
“You’ll have to get on your knees and beg,” Maya laughs. She steps into the candlelit room, walks toward the window, and turns around. “Lovely place. Great grandfather clock. Beautiful rug. And I like the artwork...like the idea of large pieces filling up a small apartment. And you’ve got a big deep couch you can curl up in, just like mine. Plus you have a view! Really nice, Wendy.”
“Yeah, a third floor view of Third Avenue. I like it, though. There’s good energy...I haven’t been here long and don’t know how long I’ll stay. But it’s home for now. I’ve still got half my stuff from my married life in storage. Don’t know why I keep paying that bill. I should just sell it all, but I keep thinking I’m going to need it again.”
“I’m happy being a city gal too.” Maya sets the bag with the food on the coffee table and takes off her coat, folding it over her arm.
“We can drink a toast to the city later.”
“I brought some nibblies too,” Maya says, “because I wasn’t sure if we’d be going right out. I, uh, thought you said you were dressed and ready.”
Wendy sets the bottle down and approaches Maya to take her coat. “Did I really say I was dressed and ready? Well, it won’t take but a minute.” She reaches out to brush a wisp of hair off Maya’s forehead. “Is it windy out?”
Maya isn’t sure how to respond to Wendy’s touch. She likes it, though. She steps back and recovers, then puts her nose to Wendy’s neck.
“Yum, you smell good...unlike that fat bore, Jack.”
“Your comeback was just great,” Wendy says, as she reaches to touch Maya’s hair again. “I mean, what you said about big balls.”
“That feels nice - your touch. Hmmm.” Suddenly aware of her own breathing, Maya leans away. “Yes,” she says. “I mean...that scene with Jack was funny, wasn’t it? Although, I regret it now.”
“Darling, there’s no such thing as regret. There’s what we do, and what we don’t do.”
“Good philosophy. But I don’t like to alienate people who might be in a position to maybe help me one day, so I don’t like to give anybody a reason to get back at me,” Maya says, as she moves to sit on the sofa, sinking into the down pillows. “I’m not into masochism - I mean, I don’t fantasize that much about being punished.”
“Ooh...me neither. And I wouldn’t want to be spanked too hard.” Wendy laughs, burying her face in the coat, “This is a nice fur.” She lays the coat on the couch beside Maya. “What is it?”
“Beaver.”
“Beaver? Well, take that, Jack! Shot down by a woman with a fluffy brown beaver.”
“Actually, there’s no fur on this beaver,” Maya says. “But Jack was so pissed, he’ll probably spread a rumor about us being a couple of lesbians.”
“One night with a girl does not make one gay.” Wendy fluffs her golden hair, then takes hold of an elbow and with a limp wrist, prances barefoot around the room, picking up the vodka bottle on her way to the kitchen.
Maya watches her turn the corner and disappear then gets up from the couch to take a look out the window. She holds the edge of the curtain and stares blankly at the street below. Wendy’s comment has given her that twat twinge again. She calls to her. “Have you had one night with a girl?”
“Have you?” Wendy is leaning against the kitchen door holding two crystal tumblers in her hand when Maya turns around.
“No, Wendy. Have you?”
Wendy doesn’t reply and quietly retreats into the kitchen. The clink of glasses on the tray signals her return to the living room, Maya turns and moves away from the window to watch her pour their drinks.
She steps closer and offers Maya a glass - and an answer, “Maybe.”
“Maybe what?”
“Maybe I’ve tried it with a girl,” Wendy says. “Teenage curiosity, you know. I had a brief infatuation with a girl on my swimming team. She used to tease me in the locker room. Then I’d go meet up with Charlie, still wet.”
“Hmmm. I’ve thought about it, but I guess I never had an opportunity to act on it.”
“Um, ‘no fur,’ you said. So, do you shave, wax, or laser?”
Maya clears her throat. “You are really beautiful,” she says, reaching for Wendy’s hand.
“So are you.”
“But this is a little scary...because you kind of turn me on and...as you know, I like guys, not girls.”
“Well, me too. But what do you mean that I ‘kind of’ turn you on?’ Either I do or I don’t. Either we embrace this opportunity or not.”
“Ever since I met you, I... I’ve been thinking. We’re not... a couple of dykes... just because we find the idea erotic...are we?”
“I’m no lesbian...but I want to kiss you,” Wendy says. “Come closer.”
Maya leans toward Wendy, who glides her fingers across the back of her neck while placing a tentative kiss on her open mouth. Maya responds with a kiss of her own. When they part, Wendy unties the sash of her kimono, letting it fall open to reveal her full, round breasts with their large tawny areoles. “Take off your dress, rub against me,” Wendy says. “I want to see you, to feel our tits together.”
“Gorgeous tits,” Maya says, “but I...I just got here.” Her words sound like a protest, but she steps out of her shoes so she and Wendy are the same height. “Let’s have a drink,” she says.
“Come on, give in,” Wendy says. “And let’s do this sober.”
Maya protests no more. She opens her mouth and places private kisses on the breasts she’d been ogling in public only hours before, the breasts Wendy presses against her face, the breasts with the fat nipples that Maya wraps her lips around, first one and then the other. The experience is heady. Her heart is pounding. She takes a breath and gently bites down.
“Ooh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“This... is...so...exciting,” Maya says, her legs getting weak. Her voice is soft too; she puts her lips to Wendy’s ear and says it again, “...exciting.” Wendy puts a hand on her shoulder and gently presses down until Maya sinks to her knees. Holding onto Wendy’s waist, lips to her flesh, Maya circles her navel with a flickering tongue, which then finds its way to a pudendum that’s pink and wet and swollen, just like her own.
“So, it turns out that you’re the one on your knees.” Wendy says, her voice deep, and thick.
“Thanks for giving me such a beautiful welcome,” Maya says, as she holds tight onto a body swooning with intensity, just like her own.
Wendy urges her to stand. “Come up here with me,” she says. “Stand up, Baby, and kiss my mouth, please. I want to taste my juice on your tongue. I want to feel you rub against me.”
Maya inhales Wendy’s musky scent and then sits back and pulls her dress over her head, revealing the laced up corset underneath. When she stands, her body is still swaying. “It’s exciting to hear you beg,” Maya says. “Usually I feel as if you’re the one with the power, the one in control. And although I like it when someone else commands me, sometimes I want to play the role of master too.”
“Not tonight,” Wendy says. “I’m your master tonight - and your mistress. You look like a Victorian vogue in that corset. So sexy.” She puts a hand between Maya’s legs. “Take off your panties.”
Maya obliges, and steps out of her g-string. But she covers herself with both hands as she stands before Wendy.
“Ah, I see you’re a shy baby,” Wendy coos. “You gonna be my baby tonight.”
Maya’s breath quickens as she watches Wendy’s finger lightly trace across her breast, watches as she tweaks the swollen nipple peeking out of the corset.
“You’ve got gorgeous tits too,” Wendy says, lifting
each breast out of its constraint. She moves closer to rub against them and then kisses Maya’s neck before running her tongue along her shoulder and biting into the muscle.
“Yes.” Maya whispers. “I like that. And you’re so gentle with your bite. Do you like it too? Is that how we do this? Do we do to each other what we like done to ourselves?”
“Yes.” Wendy bites into her shoulder again then kisses her mouth “I like it too.”
“What else do you like?”
“I like kisses. And I’d like you to suck me. Spank me. And slap me...a little.”
“Slap you where?”
Wendy puts a hand between her own legs. “Here.”
“Oh, me too,” Maya sighs, as they slink to the floor where they take turns pleasing each other with what they like and what they will.
Later, Maya rolls over to lie next to Wendy. “Umm. Beautiful,” she says.
“We are fucking beautiful together,” Wendy echoes. “Master and Mistress. Or rather, Mistress and Mistress.” She puts her lips to Maya’s mouth and they make love again, oozing erotic juices, taking turns thrusting one, two, three slippery fingers into each other’s hole.
Now Maya sits up on Wendy’s hip, and Wendy puts a hand on her thigh to spread her legs as wide as they’ll open, revealing her glistening folds. Maya inches up her body, over her belly, over her breasts, until she’s straddling Wendy’s face, her clit growing larger, larger, larger as Wendy taps the red hot juicy flesh before she licks it, each getting lost in the ecstasy of it all.
Her sense of time distorted since morning, Maya listens to the clock chime eleven, and then finally a settling begins. She’d been trembling for hours in a state of desire. Now she stretches her arms and looks around the living room in the waning candlelight.
“Don’t pay attention to the clock,” Wendy says. “It isn’t right. The hands don’t move and the chimes go off when it feels like it. I have a thing about clocks, but need to get it fixed. Still, it must be late. Are you hungry? I just remembered that we’ve got your cheese and crackers sitting on the table.”
“I’ve already eaten.” Maya smiles. “It was good.”
“You taste good too,” Wendy says, running her tongue along her lips, “sweet, like honey.” She leans to kiss Maya again before standing.” I love kissing a girl,” she tells her.
Maya says she likes it too and that she doesn’t care about the time. They continue to lay beside each other, wrapped quiet in the dark, until the clock chimes again.
“It’s half past something,” Maya says. “What do you have besides the cheese?”
“I have some fruit and sliced ham I’ll put on another plate with your caviar. I don’t usually like caviar, but since you brought it...” Wendy rolls onto her knees and stands up, taking the tray and their empty glasses into the kitchen. She returns empty-handed. “Unless you still want to go out?”
“I’m hungry, but I don’t want to go out,” Maya says. “Bring me anything you feel like putting together, plus something to drink, please. And could you also bring me some water? I’ll just pull my coat off the couch and wait for you to come back” - she laughs - “playing the role of the queen.”
“Queen bee, huh?” Wendy says, leaving the room again.
The words ‘queen bee’ bring on a flashback memory of a dream where she’s playing some kind of game with the Devil, a game of chess that involves a whip. She doesn’t have a chance to find out who wins because Wendy returns with food on the tray, putting it down on the floor in front of her. Maya needs a minute to recover. She fusses with the coat, spreading it across her knees, and then she sits up against the front of the sofa.
“I still taste you in my mouth,” Wendy says. “And you’re still on my fingers. I fondled the grapes with my sticky fingers. Want to taste?” She kneels and puts two fingers to Maya’s lips and then joins her under the coat and they sit on the Persian rug eating grapes and ham and cheese, while dropping dollops of caviar on saltine crackers.
“What a decadent night,” Maya says.
“And we didn’t even have to get drunk to do this,” Wendy says, sharing her glass of iced vodka. Later, she dips her fingers in the cup of tepid water, and like Maya, rinses her slit.
“Why don’t you try on my beaver?” Maya says. She moves from under the coat.
“I like it. Although it suits your coloring better. But okay.” Wendy takes the coat and puts it over her shoulders. “Let me see how it looks in the full length mirror,” she says, leaving the room again.
With another languid stretch, Maya gets up to look for the music system among the electronic components in the corner of the room. She revolves the rack of compact discs, choosing a selection that varies from punk to Puccini. Intoxicated still, she returns to their spot on the floor and rests her head against the couch cushion, where the vision in her head returns to the pleasure/pain that probably comes from the snap of a Devil’s whip.
“What do you think?”
Wendy’s voice brings her back and she opens her eyes to see her beautiful blond lover coming toward her. She has the fur coat draped across her shoulders, a pink rubber dildo strapped to her hips. The dildo bobs between her legs.
“Oh my God,” Maya says, propping herself up on her elbows to watch.
“You like?” Wendy does a pirouette and then steps over Maya and stands astride her.
“Yum, this is a good size dick,” Maya says, reaching for the dildo. She circles the head of the sex toy with her tongue, much like she’d fluttered around Wendy’s pink nipples and clit, but not as arousing. She leans back to look up at her. “What a gorgeous hermaphrodite you make.”
“Would you like it if I fucked you with this?” Wendy says. She moves to kneel over Maya, who wraps her fist around the dildo, urging Wendy closer.
“Yes,” Maya says so softly she doesn’t hear her own voice. She lifts her hips as Wendy straddles her, their bodies hot against each other. “I’m still creamy...more creamy,” she says. “Ease it inside me until it hurts.”
“Oh, I don’t want it to hurt you,” Wendy says. “But look at us! It looks beautiful, doesn’t it? Maybe if you got on top, you’d have control over how deep it goes and how much it hurts.”
They hold onto each other and turn together. “I don’t mind if it hurts,” Maya says, moving off the dildo and sliding down Wendy’s leg, “but...”
“No. Don’t get off! Let me do it to you! Please.”
Maya breathes in...and out...and then inhales again and moves to sit on top of Wendy’s flexing foot. “I really don’t want it,” she says with a pout. “I like it hot. Literally. I like flesh. You know how a man can be as hard as a baseball bat, but there’s still some give to flesh when you take it...you know?”
“I know,” Wendy sighs. “Texture and temperature are important. But this...this is so hot. Try to relax, baby. I don’t generally fool with toys myself. Even when I’m alone. When I’m alone, its fingers...and only occasionally a vibrator.”
“When I went down on you,” Maya says, “you opened up like a flower and your clit got big enough to almost fuck me. Boy, that would be something...if you could fuck me with your clit.”
“You’ve got a fat one too, as you know. Would be interesting if we could find something to stretch them,” Wendy says, “to make our clits even bigger...you know, like tribes people do with other body parts. God, that would be sexy...to walk around like that. I’d be wanting you to suck it every chance we got.”
“Hmmm, me too.”
“And I really like kissing you...kissing a girl...but, yes, it’s more natural to be with a man, isn’t it? I mean, playing like a lesbo is fun, but I wouldn’t want to live there.”
“I’ve been having a fucking great time with you too. And you’ve seduced me to want more. I am going to spend the whole rest of the weekend making lo
ve with you. It’s so exotic. I could play with you forever.”
Maya reaches her hand out to Wendy, who takes it and kisses it. “But, yes, for a partner, I prefer a man. I prefer a man who’ll slam me up against the elevator wall and kiss me within an hour of meeting me...a man who’ll take me home and ride me all night long. I want a man who can make a strong woman weak...a man who isn’t afraid to be weak himself...a man who’ll take care of everything and then want me to take care of the rest.” She smiles at Wendy. “And then, the man and I will take care of each other forever...and ever.”
ii.
As the night deepens and the candles burn out, as the temperature falls and the moon rises, the women continue to be consumed by their rapture. But when the sweet breath of dawn whispers its good morning, the lovers do not stir, so sound is their slumber. It was well after three when finally they’d moved into bed and surrendered to sleep. Tucked under fine linens and the lightweight warmth of goose down, womanly curves entwined, they twice awoke in the wee hours: once to fondle each other to climax, and once for mutual cunnilingus, which they were both acquiring a taste for.
The December sun filters through the tatted lace curtains, finally awakening them for the day. “It’s tomorrow,” Wendy says. “Are you up, girlfriend?”
When Maya turns, Wendy kisses her shoulder. “Morning,” she says and then she lays back and looks out the window. “Ooh, there’s a dove! How romantic. Maybe it means I’ve fallen for you.”
“That’s a pigeon, darling,” Wendy says. “And it’s almost afternoon. God allowed us to sleep late.”
“Do you believe in God?” Maya asks.
“I believe in delicious sex. And maybe I’ve fallen for you too. But I’m not sure about love.”
“I didn’t say anything about love. And I asked about God. You didn’t say if you believe.”
“No.”
“Well, I’ll be your friend anyway,” Maya laughs, reaching to take Wendy’s hand. “Pretty intense, huh?”
“So much for all the dissing we did about dildos.”