Begin Again

by Sarah Sanders

  Our hands move down at the same time and find each other’s centres. I am throbbing and she is hot as a furnace.

  My fingers slide in easily. Hers are playing with my clit. I moan.

  When her fingers enter me, I whimper.

  We fuck each other urgently, pumping into each other’s leaking pussies fast.

  We could have been meeting after two years instead of less than two days for all the frenzy we are feeling. We are utterly debauched and the sounds spilling out of me are completely pornographic.

  It is dirty, as good sex should be, and wonderful.

  We both climb towards our peaks. I come first screaming her name and obscenities and she follows me in a few seconds with giant shudders. While she is quiet during sex I am loud enough and noisy enough for both of us and then some.

  I firmly believe that she is some sort of a sexual rockstar to get all that reaction out of me…and I’m not talking only about the screaming here.

  I collapse into her breathing hard. “Welcome back,” I murmur. She hugs me closer. Panting. Our breaths are billowing out in gasps and our sweat mingles. Maybe we should both take a bath now. That is a wonderful thought and I let myself go limp all over her.

  Once again, like many, many times before I send a little sigh of gratitude for the strength her martial arts has given her. She is all sinewy strength which makes it easy for me to collapse into her without fear, to jump on her and wrap my limbs around her and for her to carry me around with ease.

  I hum deeply in satisfaction. She kisses the top on my head.

  The three words I most want to tell her are clawing in my throat, demanding to get out…but I cannot say them…yet.

  To me saying those words is equivalent to saying “I do”. They are a commitment. For a lifetime. Which I intend to keep.

  In my mind…in my heart…in my soul…I have already committed to her.

  I am irrevocably committed to her.

  I am completely hers for life and nothing can change that.

  I know others don’t think the way I do. My way of thinking, my beliefs may be old-fashions…or bookish…or even naïve…but that doesn’t matter. This is me. It is my life. My thoughts. My beliefs.

  ******

  Dinner was incredible. I’ve never been so stuffed in my life.

  We’ve retired to the bedroom and changed into our nightwear.

  My preferred nightwear when I’m spending the night with Beth is always a sheer, short negligée, mostly satin, sometimes silk, sometimes chiffon or lace. Almost always see through – that is the best. Usually with obscene cuts.

  This wasn’t always the case. I used to do pjs and boxers like every other person but the first time I wore a negligée, the response I got from Beth was something that gave me a peak the height of Mount Everest, so here we are. And I must say that these negligées make me feel insanely sexy and totally dovetail into my girlieness.

  Note that this is my preferred nightwear with Beth, not sleepwear. By the time we actually sleep, I’m always in my birthday suit. As is she.

  “How have you not ballooned like a tent?” I ask Beth snuggling into her arms.

  She laughs. “I work out like crazy.”

  “You mean besides working out with me?” I ask cheekily.

  “You are pure pleasure. Combatting Anita’s cooking requires something that feels demanding.”

  “So, are you saying I’m not demanding enough for you?” I joke and she kisses me.

  “Princess, are you happy with me?”

  “You’re kidding, right? You know I am deliriously happy with you.”

  “No…I mean…” she cannot verbalise her thought. I wonder what’s up with that. What could be bothering her? “Ummm…you know you’ve never been with a woman before,” she starts after a pause.

  “That’s right,” I want to respond but just enough to encourage her to continue and spill whatever is on her mind.

  “So for you sex has always involved a…” she cannot quite complete the sentence, but I get it.

  “A cock…yes.”

  “Do you miss that?” she asks delicately.

  Oh! Oh!! She’s scared that she is my experiment. Or that I am acting out because of being dumped. Or something equally asinine. She thinks she is transitory to me.

  She has no clue where I am at. The epiphanies I have had regarding her and us while she was gone are still buried deep inside me.

  I wanted to savour the realities for a while more before I told her, but it looks like I need to tell her faster than I anticipated. Savouring my feelings is less important than chasing away any seed of insecurity that Betha might start feeling.

  I roll over on her and hold her face between my hands. I want to look at her, and more importantly, I want her to look into my eyes when I say this.

  She needs to know what it means and what exactly I mean when I say this.

  “Beth, I love you.”

  She stares into my eyes. She reads my soul sitting there. She is speechless.

  “I’ve never said this to anyone,” I tell her, “You need to know what it means to me to say this. I’ve been married, I’ve been almost married…but I’ve never said this to anyone, Bethy. I love you. I love you. You are everything I need and everything I want…and the only thing I want and need,”

  I stop short of saying forever. Let’s not overwhelm her to a degree she cannot handle…she already looks overwhelmed.

  She stutters. She sputters. She is trying to speak but cannot.

  I give her a little smile and kiss her softly.

  “Kat, I love you,” if someone’s heart could ever be on their lips, hers is right now. “I’ve been in love with you for twenty years,” she confesses.

  “Since high school?” I am shocked. I had never guessed.

  She was mostly a quiet girl in high school despite her model-like good looks. She chose anonymity and hung around with a select few. It’s true that I was probably the only one apart from those few that she ever spoke to. But I’d still never have guessed.

  “You remember you’d once asked me why I don’t have a girlfriend?” I nod. “It’s because no one ever measured up to you.”

  Okay, this is scary. She’s had an idealised version of me in her head for two decades. Even I wouldn’t measure up to the version of me that she’s carried around for so long.

  “Betha, is the reality of me anywhere close to the version of me that you’ve had in your head?” I’ve already said that I’m hopeless at prevaricating and my fear is out of my mouth before I can filter it.

  “Princess, you are way more that I had ever imagined,” she smiles, her eyes glowing…actually glowing…with love as she gazes at me. “The reality of you makes the version of you in my head pale to nothingness.”

  We stare at each other for what seems like hours and then I bend down to kiss her. It is a kiss of breathtaking sensuality where promises are exchanged non-verbally and which seamlessly segues into more.

  This time we make love. Repeatedly. Softly, Gently. Slowly. Sensuously.

  Every touch is heightened. Every kiss is deeper. Every word is more weighted with emotion. Every look is a promise.

  ******

  It’s hours later that we are finally ready for sleep.

  Usually, she brings me to an earth-shattering orgasm. Then she continues playing with me and she gets hers while she gives me a smaller orgasm.

  And then she gets down to business and doesn’t stop till she draws out at least two or three big ones from me.

  I am not even counting the series of small ones that lap around me in waves during all this.

  She is the most exciting and incredible lover that anyone in the history of humankind has ever had.

  Between us, Beth is most assuredly the top and I am the bottom…a perfect status quo for both of us.

  I turn in her arms so that she is spooning me. She has one arm under my neck, wrapping back to hold my breast and the other hand is between my legs cupping my cunt
.

  I know that sometime in the night when I turn around we will automatically readjust ourselves. My arm will be under her neck wrapped around her shoulders, hers will be under my waist. My breast will be in her mouth. She’ll squeeze my pussy a few times and stroke me inside before we go back to sleep. Sometimes, when she finds me really, really wet, she puts her finger inside me…and it feels great. At other times, she may remove her hand from my cunt to hold my butt and put her thigh between my legs. Then I know I’ll grind into her and rub myself against her thigh for a bit. That may or may not lead to one more time…but finally we’ll sleep like that.

  I never knew that sleeping could be sexy too. See, toldja everything I have ever known or thought about sex has been completely turned on its head.

  ******

  It’s a few weeks later and we are in my house for the weekend.

  Things have worked out such that we spend nights together during weekdays at her place and on Friday evenings we come back to mine for the weekend.

  It also seems like we are spending every night together.

  I can’t remember the last time I slept without her wrapped around me.

  I can’t remember the last time we did not spend an evening together.

  I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t in her arms.

  I can’t remember the last time Bethy wasn’t in my life.

  I feel my life started in that horrible restroom of that crazy bar I had stumbled into. I only remember life from that moment when I was completely disgusting – throwing my innards up noisily and completely grossly.

  I was born then.

  Children come into the world mewling and puking…I came into consciousness of real life and real happiness much the same way.

  We both have sets of clothes and toiletries at each others’. It’s not the classic lesbian U-haul, but seems to be there…kinda…sorta. Though, we have been together for at least six months so I think we’ve escaped being the U-haul joke. We refer to both the houses as “home”.

  I’m not quite certain when and how this happened but we transitioned into this practically living together arrangement so organically that there was never anything discussed.

  The short commute to work from Beth’s house means we have much more time for ourselves.

  However, since this is something that we just slipped into, we still end up asking each other whether we’re spending the night together.

  Somehow, since the words haven’t been uttered, it doesn’t feel like we have moved in together. So far, neither of us has formally asked the other to move in with them.

  I know I am waiting for her to ask. I want to be wooed.

  But I can wait.

  I know neither of us is going anywhere and the words will come. She will ask me someday…and that day is going to come sooner rather than later.

  As of now, my life has never been as good as it is right now.

  I’d been working on some office work since morning and Beth’s been reading one of her children/teen books about Greek gods having progeny in modern America and those kids have to combat mythological Greek villains and save Olympus which is magically now situated in America.

  I finished work a little while back and have come to join Beth on the sofa. I am semi-reclining with my legs stretched out on the coffee table and she is lying with her head on my crotch. I’m playing with her hair thinking that I should start something for dinner, sexy thoughts, maybe take-out, sexy thoughts, wonder what grabs her so much about these kids’ books, sexy thoughts, flashback on sexy times, sexy thoughts, sexy thoughts, sexy thoughts, sexy thoughts…

  As if those thoughts have reached her and pulled her out, Beth abruptly places her bookmark, shuts the book, sets it on the coffee table and turns her head to nuzzle my conveniently situated crotch.

  I giggle and spread my legs a little. She burrows in.

  I am wearing one of my tiny satin shorts (Beth calls my shorts “barely legal” and “flirting dangerously with obscenity” because most of them struggle to cover my butt cheeks…some actually don’t) and a cami.

  I spread my legs more and Beth goes down on her knees in front of me, between my legs.

  She pulls down my short and I raise my hips so that she can take them off.

  She raises my legs so that my feet are resting on her shoulders and I am wet and open to her. She just has to lean in a bit to get to me.

  She leans in and nuzzles my wet pussy. She takes quick licks of my wetness off my untamed hair down there. I distantly think that I need to soon up my personal grooming game.

  Without any ado or foreplay, she sucks my clit. It is a hard, sensitive, throbbing nub right now. I gasp and scream.

  She bites gently with her lips and like a completely lame loser, I come. Hard.

  I am shaking and shuddering with aftershocks. It’s an orgasm that is like what one would get after hours of foreplay. Not something that has taken three licks, four sucks and one soft bite.

  She licks and laps up my cum thoroughly. She always licks off my juices as if they’re some gourmet delicacy that she cannot get enough of and cannot bear to waste a drop of. It is…I don’t have a word for it…but it makes me feel all sorts of cherished. It makes me feel something unbearably special and precious.

  She emerges from between my thighs, “That’s my Energizer Bunny,” she grins wickedly placing a kiss on my cunt.

  “That’s unfair…you know I was almost there already…you could smell me,” I accuse, but am smiling.

  She sits beside me drawing me into her arms, “You know I love it when this happens. It makes me feel like the God of Sex,” she nuzzles into my hair and cups my pussy, kneading it.

  I’ve never known anyone to be so fascinated by my cunt. I think my cunt is in her hand for as many hours as it is in my panties each day. And I love it.

  “Mmmmm,” I don’t know whether I am agreeing with her or just moaning in pleasure.

  “Let’s order pizza…I’ve got something for you for later,” she says.

  I can’t wait.

  ******

  Beth has been playing with me for a while. She’s been pushing me on the edge and keeping me there but not letting me come. By now I really, really want to come.

  “Beth, please…” I moan. I know I am begging…and she knows it too.

  “Alright, princess,” she says…and to my horror…yes, horror…she gets up from the bed goes away. What?! She is rummaging through the overnighter she has got along.

  “Just what are you doing?” I am peevish and petulant.

  “Patience, Kitty Kat…I’ve got something for you,” she says from the dark and takes more time than I am really willing to give her. Not that she is giving me any say or choice in the matter today.

  I’m not sure I can go much longer. Even without having come she has had me going for so long that I am getting exhausted. But am still reaching for that high.

  I want her to take me ‘there’…the ‘there’ that only she can take me to. The ‘there’ when I am fucked totally senseless. Where I become just a quivering mass and mess of sensation. I want that so bad right now.

  She never makes me wait like this. Making me beg is not her style. She is secure enough in herself and in me to not need any begging from me. She is so attuned to my body that she need no verbal prodding as to what to do next. But now…I growl in frustration.

  She comes back, and in the dim light cast by the bedside lamp, I see something jutting out from between her legs. She’s wearing a strap-on. A fairly large and very realistic looking strap-on. She has put a condom over it and I can see that it is slick with lube. I don’t know what to make of it.

  “What?” I sputter.

  “Roll over,” she says.

  I am unsure, but a little excited too (since this is new with her) and I do as she says.

  She soon has me on my hands and knees in front of her.

  “Let me know if it hurts,” she says as she guides the head of the faux cock into
my opening.

  She eases in ever so slowly to give me time to adjust to its girth. It is bigger than anything that has been inside me before.

  She pauses, “Okay?” she asks.

  “Gimme a couple of moments,” I say.

  She waits a bit and then starts easing in again. I am being stretched like never before but it is not hurting me. I am being filled like never before and that is quite a feeling. I don’t have an adjective for the feeling yet because I am asking her to push in more.