by Limey Lady
This time Joanna’s cum was giga hard.
This time she almost snapped her spine in her efforts to throw her pelvis up off the bed.
And did Heather even hesitate? Make that a no. Alternating tits left to right, she dabbed, nibbled and sucked again and again. Beyond resistance, Joanna came and came again in sympathy.
Sympathy! Ha! This was serious, emotion-free sex like she’d never experienced before.
Joanna wailed and squealed and ultimately screamed. Never once wondering what she might say next day to the neighbours, all she could do was urge her lover, ‘More, more, more!’
And she was definitely urging the right person. Her enthusiasm only ever growing, Heather kept on at her with spiralling hunger.
Her orgasms coming thick and fast, Joanna believe she had discovered the female Valhalla. And right then her version of Valhalla didn’t need warriors. Warriors were nothing compared to this.
No, they were less than nothing.
Valkyries rule okay!
Well, assuming Valkyries got up to such entertainment.
And surely they did!!
Happy in this new little world of hers, Joanna never suspected how much better things could get.
Chapter Nine
Proud of herself for not getting carried away (well, not too carried away), Heather finally broke off her attack on Joanna’s lovely boobs. Joanna’s succession of climaxes hadn’t gone unnoticed . . . and had not gone unappreciated, either. Making a girl cum was always good. Making a girl cum endlessly was even better.
Heather had long believed that causing an endless stream of cums was at least as rewarding as actually having an endless stream of cums.
Well, it came mighty close, anyway.
Boob-cums were harder to come by, weren’t they? Not personally speaking, of course. Personally speaking Heather could climax if a lover merely nibbled her ear.
In fact a little loving attention almost anywhere could set her off.
But boob-cums weren’t the be all and end all, were they? Right then the rest of Joanna’s sexy bod was waiting for her, wrapped in see-through, silky lace.
‘Relax,’ purred Heather, shifting position. ‘The real fun lies ahead.’
Joanna was trembling violently but she stayed as she was, on her back. Although far from relaxed she was without doubt there for the long haul. Admiring her more by the second, Heather pushed the hem of her negligee up. Kissing her bellybutton was fun but not easy. That gauzy, silky lace got in the way.
Jumping to one of her many abrupt conclusions, no longer needing any sex-wear (apart from her own stockings), Heather tugged the negligee up and off.
Joanna raised her arms obligingly, jiggling her delightful boobs in the process.
Resisting the renewed nipple-chewing opportunity, Heather wedged her lover’s legs apart with her nylon-clad thighs and returned to her inverted navel.
Oh yes, her mind cried as her tongue clicked into gear, yes, yes, yes!
*****
Joanna sighed as Heather moved downwards, running her tongue through her neatly-trimmed landing strip, following it with her nose . . . ploughing a sexy furrow as she went.
‘Oh my word,’ Joanna observed huskily.
Heather’s attentions down there were remarkable. She licked, kissed, nibbled and softly chewed absolutely everywhere before homing in on Joanna’s clit. Joanna came immediately and giga-hard again. It felt as if a flare gun had gone off inside her.
She wasn’t at all surprised when Heather’s attentions continued unchecked. By then she’d got the girl’s measure. To Heather a climax wasn’t an ending; it was an inducement. The act of cumming only encouraged her to up the ante.
And up the ante she did.
It was blissful. Joanna soon stopped trying to keep count of the orgasms. In all honesty she gave up trying to even identify the orgasms. As far as she could tell she was cumming every three minutes, her body riding something like a sine wave of pleasure. But were all of those peaks actual cums? She might well be experiencing one long, never-ending orgasm.
Or maybe ten never-ending orgasms stacked end on end.
Frankly, she didn’t care, especially when Heather began to use two fingers as well as persisting at her hood and clit. Never mind a flare gun; that set off a whole battery of heavy artillery inside her.
Blitzkrieg or what!
*****
Much, much later Heather stopped nibbling and fingering. Looking up Joanna’s sated, trembling body, her eyes flashing almost alarmingly, she grinned.
‘Fancy a taste, Josie?’
Joanna hadn’t been called “Josie” since she was a teenager. Not that she was about to object on an occasion like this. And not that she was about to refuse Heather anything. Even though she had a few doubts about her own woman-satisfying abilities, she nodded.
‘Yes,’ she breathed, ‘I fancy a taste very much.’
Instead of throwing herself on her back (as expected), Heather got onto her knees and moved up the bed, turning through one-eighty degrees in the process. And suddenly Joanna was straddled by a pair of shapely, nylon-clad legs. Suddenly Heather was licking and kissing from a new angle, her tits pressing into Joanna’s tummy, her pussy held up three or four inches above Joanna’s face.
Joanna had never seen a more beautiful sight. And the smell was as good; Heather’s pussy smelt musky, like exotic and expensive perfume. Baking heat was radiating from her too. And the bare bits of her thighs above her stocking tops were glistening wetter than ever.
Yes, Joanna fancied a taste of her very much indeed.
Problem was that distance. When Joanna tried to raise her head Heather raised her so-sexy ass, maintaining the four inch gap. After a couple of attempts Joanna realized it was a deliberate ploy. The girl was winding her up!
Determined to prevail Joanna grabbed Heather by her deeply tanned bum. She intended to either pull her down or pull herself up. One way or the other, her mouth was going to make contact with that gorgeously swollen, throbbing pussy.
She hesitated at the last second, watching a droplet form on Heather’s folds; a very large droplet. Instinctively she shot out her tongue, catching it as it fell . . . savouring it.
The taste wasn’t anything she could easily describe. Best she could do was apples and lemons. It was a good taste; one which she instantly liked. She readily caught and devoured several more large droplets.
Then, when she lost patience and pulled, Heather eased her pussy down, as obliging as could be.
What a minx!
But how pleasant was it to make contact! And how pleasant was everything about this!! During her drop-catching exploits Joanna had almost forgotten the activity going on between her own legs. Come to think about it, she probably hadn’t cum for a record-breaking five minutes. Heather’s activity was up there in her consciousness now, however. So too was the feel of her tits against the girl’s six-pack flat stomach.
We’re in harmony, Joanna concluded. We’re sixty-nine-ing in perfect harmony.
Leastways we will be when I get on with it!
The taste of full-on pussy was infinitely better than being drip-fed. Acting on impulse, doing it oh so slowly, Joanna pushed her tongue up and in.
Heather immediately and violently contacted around the intrusive organ. Taken aback, astonished by the unannounced flood, Joanna did her best to gulp down the unexpected flow of nectar. But she’d no chance of swallowing it all. While Heather didn’t squirt, she certainly gushed.
Face, neck and tits flooded, Joanna came moments afterwards; it would have been rude not to.
And how inspiring was that!
Egged on by curiosity, instinctively knowing Heather never would call pax, Joanna thrust deeper and was rewarded by an even bigger gush.
‘Oh my word,’ she said, partly withdrawing, her words mostly muffled by Heather’s blood-infused labia.
‘Utterly brilliant,’ Heather replied, her words mostly muffled for similar reasons.
Harmony took over once more and they were climaxing in turn. Joanna thought of that sine wave again. Heather would be in a trough while she peaked. As she came down, Heather would peak. And then, as Heather came down . . .
The repetitive curve seemed to go on infinitely. So too did Joanna’s supply of orgasms. Even if she had already cum more in one night than in the rest of the year put together, there was no sign of her stocks running out.
For no reason she could fathom, Joanna recalled that ancient Greek. Didn’t Sisyphus have to roll a big boulder uphill for all eternity . . . with it eternally rolling back down? Having sex with Heather did have certain similarities.
Except having sex with Heather for all eternity wasn’t such an ordeal.
God only knew how long later . . . it must have been thousands of peaks and troughs . . . Heather eased off.
‘Taste me,’ she said again.
Bemused, Joanna lay still while her irrepressible lover manoeuvred herself upright until she was sitting on her haunches, still straddling Joanna, her sweet pussy pressing onto her mouth.
‘Put it in me,’ Heather urged, ‘put it in me.’
Joanna’s tongue knew where to go. And Heather’s vagina resisted not at all. Yet another timeless time later . . . after yet more countless cums . . . the black-haired beauty shrieked.
‘Best-ever, ever,’ she crowed, turning through another one-eighty degrees and straightening out, lying flat so she was on Joanna in the supposed “man’s position”. And it felt good. They were tit to tit and groin to groin. No sexually aware human being could have failed to feel good given contact like that.
‘My word,’ Joanna murmured, ‘whatever next?’
In response Heather started to move her lower body. She was (as Joanna was soon to discover) an expert in the art of tribbing. Joanna hadn’t even heard of “tribbing” up until then. If asked she would have said she believed that “lezzies” went down, sixty-nined and maybe played with toys. And kissed and caressed, of course. She couldn’t have imagined there were other things they could do.
Heather quickly filled her head with dozens of possibilities.
Hovering above, their tits gloriously reunited, the green-eyed goddess spoke.
‘I haven’t seen you cum.’
Joanna snorted as best she could. ‘I’ve cum several hundred times. Are you blind?’
‘I know you’ve cum several hundred times, but I haven’t seen you. I’ve been otherwise engaged. I so very desperately need to see your face. Understand?’
As eager as any new convert, it didn’t take long for Joanna to decide that tribbing was the ultimate in lesbian sex. Except Heather no doubt had a few more tricks up her sleeve, so maybe it wasn’t quite the ultimate . . .
It was good, though. In a way it was like being shagged by a man, yet utterly different at the same time. Okay, penetration wasn’t a factor but she was still glowing inside; she didn’t feel she was losing out internally. And the external sensations were something else. The external sensations were out of this world.
That was thanks to Heather, naturally. Her motion wasn’t extravagant . . . probably only a matter of millimetres . . . but the contact was incredible. The wet, slimy-sexy feel of pussy moving on pussy was beyond compare.
Panting, shrieking and possibly screaming again, Joanna realized that her legs were up in the air and waving about wildly. The fear of pulling hamstrings made her reposition them, locking her ankles behind her lover’s back.
But locking them in a gentle sort of a way; not gripping tightly, more embracing. The last thing she wanted was to restrict Heather’s movement.
‘Oh bliss,’ she moaned. ‘Oh yes, Heather. Yes oh yes oh yes.’
Tribbing had changed the status quo but still a pattern remained. Joanna was suddenly cumming twice for every one of Heather’s, most likely because Heather had assumed total control again. It had been a long time since O-level Maths and Joanna struggled to picture their new sort of sine-like wave. Did Bactrian camels and upside-down dromedaries fit the bill?
Or was she fantasizing even more wildly than ever!
Not that she tried so very hard to remember Maths lessons; not just then.
‘Oh yes, Heather,’ she said repeatedly. ‘Yes oh yes oh yes.’
Chapter Ten
It had somehow got to six in the morning. Heather was lying half-on Joanna, awake and watching her snooze. Unsure how deeply asleep the older woman was, she kissed her on the nose. That produced a small smile so Heather kissed that as well.
‘I have to go,’ she announced ‘I need to get showered, dressed and into the office. I’ve got a really strict boss who’ll smack my bum if I’m even a minute late.’
‘Smacking’s not allowed at WYB.’ Joanna sleepily observed. ‘And you’d only enjoy it anyway.’
‘I probably would,’ Heather admitted. Then, casting around the bedroom: ‘Where’s my coat?’
‘You seemed to be in a hurry to get rid. I think you’ll find it on the kitchen floor.’
‘Right,’ said Heather. ‘Do I get a proper kiss before I go?’
Turned out she got more than a kiss. Before she knew it Joanna had pushed her onto her back. Then she was boarding like a bloodthirsty pirate, apparently in the mood to do some early morning tribbing.
Heather didn’t resist. She’d done most of the doing last night; anything Joanna wanted to try was A-Okay by her.
And good grief; wasn’t she putting her heart into it! Hooking her still-stockinged ankles round Joanna’s lower back, gripping her sexy ass, Heather laughed.
‘Hey, I’m supposed to be the Tasmanian Devil in these parts!’
Joanna had assumed a mostly upright missionary position and was going at it like a bull at a gate, using all of her sex on the relatively small target of Heather’s clit. That wasn’t necessarily a fair tactic, equality-wise, but then Heather had shagged her from all angles without too being politically correct. It was no more than goose for the gander.
‘That’s good, Josie,’ she said truthfully. ‘That’s really, really good.’
And it was. The blonde had probably set too fast a pace but that was her lookout, wasn’t it? As an only-too-willing victim, Heather wasn’t about to protest.
She wasn’t about to deflate Joanna’s ego, either. Girly-girl virgin or not, Joanna was on a mission. No way was she going to come out with any negatives.
‘That’s good,’ she said again. ‘That’s really, really good.’
Already the two of them were sighing, moaning and whimpering as a consequence of Joanna’s sterling efforts. Their mingled sounds of satisfaction were an ongoing chorus of mutual appreciation.
Yes, this was A-Okay all right. Letting Joanna have her way, not even attempting to counterthrust, Heather took it and took it and took it.
Distantly, in her mind’s eye, she saw her dad’s prize bull. But she didn’t picture Brutus at a gate; instead she pictured him keeping his harem of girlfriends happy. As a farmer’s daughter she’d been used to such sights; she had understood how nature worked from an early age and wasn’t shocked to see “beasts” rutting together. To her it wasn’t at all sexual; it was a very natural thing that animals did to keep up the size of Dad’s herd.