“Hold on. Can you guess which flavor I used?”
“Torment. Come back here.”
“Close, but not quite.” Tristan reached into her basket and retrieved a wedge of fresh lemon, which she squeezed first in Cyndy’s waiting mouth and then her own for twin puckers. She sucked off the errant juices.
“This is to cleanse our palates for the other edible surprises I have in store. I have lots of recipes for sexual pleasure.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I expect there are parts of your being that you aren’t even aware of and it’s my job to bring them all to your attention.” Tristan then took out a large ripe peach and took a healthy bite. The juice dripped down the corners of her mouth and poured onto her chin.
“Let me help.”
“Not yet. I’ll say when. I want to tantalize you with scent, taste and touch until you scream.” She took another bite and transferred the succulent flesh of the tree-ripened fruit to Cyndy’s waiting mouth.
“Oh, wow,” she murmured, savoring the tasty treat between bites and nibbles on Tristan’s lips.
“That’s nothing.” She planted peach nectar kisses along Cyndy’s naked torso and sucked on her tits, pulling the pliant flesh in towards the back of her throat, until nothing could drown out her moans.
Tristan continued her ministrations. She left no stone unturned, rendering Cyndy both pleased and pained without mercy.
“Peaches and pussy were made for each other.”
“Let me try.” Cyndy hadn’t meant to plead, but she wanted this too badly to remain Tristan’s captive much longer. She was the top and that was it, but Tristan had needled her way under her strong resolve and tortured that lonely place that wanted to be set free once and for all.
“Me first.” Tristan spread nectar from the crinkled tips of Cyndy’s tits, down past her navel, and finally, over her mound and into home plate.
“I can’t do this.” Cyndy surprised herself as much as she did Tristan.
“Sure you can and you will.”
How could Tristan be so sure? Cyndy’s hips had a mind of their own and all the denial in the world couldn’t force her clit to behave. The moment Tristan’s tongue made contact was the moment she was forever lost to this woman. Let her be damned to hell, but she was not going to risk it…or was she?
There wasn’t a vibrator in all the land that equaled what Tristan employed on her desperate clit. This talented woman did things to her pussy even a stone butch of gigantic proportions couldn’t deny.
“You’re strong…and lovely…and irresistible,” Tristan said softly, her breath aiding her tongue in this magnificent journey. Cyndy went along for the ride. “I love how hard and wet you are…I could eat you right up…”
Cyndy lost track of time. Tristan’s words floated somewhere in the stratosphere like the last inning of a bases-loaded, tied game where crowd’s cheers rose above the floodlights. She imagined lying naked on the field in front of hundreds of spectators, all eyes on her clit. The shouts both unnerved and excited her. But Cyndy’s concentration to score was undeterred. She had a one-track mind…her body bucked. The pillows landed on the floor from her thrashing. Every muscle in her body contracted, forcing her to focus on the one organ crying out the loudest. Her hard-on knew exactly what it needed, but her brain wasn’t accommodating. Her lungs became heavier from breathing. Her heart rate soared. Her pulse quickened. Blood surged though her veins and landed in her clit. She was at her peak, but it was her unrelenting mind that stopped her from reaching her potential.
At a fevered pitch, Cyndy let out an animalistic cry. Her hips jerked to and fro. She was about to spasm and come all over Tristan. She was so freaking close. All she had to do was let go of the damn control and allow Tristan to take her to that place she longed to live, but avoided like the plague. It was no use. Tears leaked out of her eyes and spilled onto the sheets.
“Hush.” There was no escaping Tristan’s whisper, “Don’t let it go just yet.”
“No, Tris—please, stop.”
“Shhh,” Tristan used her finger to silence Cyndy’s protest. “I have just the thing. First, let’s get this silly apron off.”
That helped, but only slightly. Cyndy’s clit was going to explode. Tristan then removed her own apron, and quickly discarded the bra and panties too. No amount of fantasizing could account for what Cyndy had before her. Tristan made fashion models look like waifs. Here was the epitome of what a naked woman should look like. Cyndy would die from hunger if she couldn’t have her way with Tristan. Pleasing a woman and expecting nothing in return was what Cyndy did best.
“How’s this?” Tristan held up a banana wrapped in plastic. Cyndy fingered the phallus and found to her delight that it was frozen solid. She couldn’t wait to use it on Tristan. Her efforts to claim it were thwarted with a slap on the wrist and a stiff warning. “Oh, no you don’t.” Tristan slid a condom over the plastic and covered it with lube.
Tristan was stubborn it seemed. Cyndy landed flat on her back once more. She soon found her knees anchored on Tristan’s shoulders, her butt slightly raised, courtesy of a femme with fancy footwork. Tristan dove between her legs and found her clit hard and needy. She wrapped her tongue around it several times and moved away just before Cyndy forgot she didn’t come for just anyone. It heated up down there. Cyndy was sure the bed would burst into flames from her hyper-lustful state. She tried to fight it. She didn’t want to hurt Tristan. She cared too much already. Just as she was about to push her off, an ice cold prick entered her cunt, and she was lost again. Only this time she never wanted to be found.
Tristan fucked her with the frozen banana. The combination caused Cyndy’s juices to go into overproduction mode. She feared she’d ejaculate and die from terminal embarrassment. She couldn’t risk it, but Tristan showed no signs of letting up. She pounded the edible dick in and out at exactly the right speed, and Cyndy cried happy tears this time.
“I’m going to come for you….oh fuck…I’m close.”
“Go for it, baby. Let me have your cream, sugar pie.”
If being this close to climax could reduce a butch to tears, then Cyndy was going to bawl like a baby.
“Come for me.”
“I can’t…”
“This butch is coming with the recipe because I said so!”
With that, Cyndy laughed and cried. Tristan never lost contact with her clit nor did she waver in servicing her cunt. There was no going back. Cyndy began the journey she’d wasted too much time resisting. Tristan persisted. Cyndy gritted her teeth and pulled at the sheets. She was right there, and then it started. The glorious pulsing, muscle contracting, brain-teasing, magical power, torment-obliterator of all time…Cyndy had the best orgasm of her life. Her body shook violently and just as she feared, she shot her come in Tristan’s presence. She forgot to care. She let it go and came repeatedly.
Unable to move her muscles now atrophied from the exertion, Cyndy lay contented in Tristan’s arms. She’d take up permanent inhabitance if she had her druthers.
“You’ve rendered me useless, I’m afraid.” Cyndy lazily drew crazy designs on Tristan’s belly, up and over her breasts, and along the insides and outsides of her thighs. Tweaking her nipples as playfully as she could manage after three of the most mind-altering orgasms ever, she was free at last.
“I’m glad.” Tristan’s satisfied grin said a lot, but the true sentiment was as clear as her deep green eyes and bottomless heart. She knew Cyndy’s secret. “I love you.”
Not believing for a minute what she thought she heard, Cyndy rose up on her elbow and peered into Tristan’s soul.
“I meant what I said.” Tristan repeated, annunciating each word, “I love you, Kaplan.”
“You read my mind.”
“That’s not all I can read about you.”
“Oh, yeah, well, we’ll have to see about that, Rizzo. There’s still the matter of this butch putting a fine femme in her place and making sure she stays there.�
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“I’d love that.”
Cyndy wasted no time pleasing Tristan for hours on end. They took turns tasting each other’s nooks and crannies, discovering secrets and deciding which recipe for ultimate pleasure came out best. Cyndy feasted on Tristan’s succulent flesh and rejoiced when she had to beg Tristan to suck her off only to be immensely relieved she was able to accept it. There were few interruptions except calling in sick at their respective jobs. They made love and slept wrapped up in each other’s arms.
When they awoke from a dreamy sleep, Cyndy knew exactly where she was meant to be. Her grandma used to say, “Cyndala, someday you’ll meet your beshert and you’ll know it.” She looked up towards heaven and winked at Grandma. A shadow on the wall looked surprisingly like a thumbs up. She pulled Tristan closer.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, snuggling into Cyndy’s embrace.
Cyndy smoothed her hair, all tangled and wild, reminiscent of their lovemaking. “For food? Or for you?”
“Both.”
“Always.”
“You never said what the frying pan and wooden spoon were for.”
Tristan’s mischievous smile lit up Cyndy’s playing field and way beyond. “You know…I honestly can’t remember, but we’ll think up something perfect for the cookbook.”
Debut
Imagine meeting your favorite author for the very first time in the flesh! She’s a debut author finalist and you’re the presenter of the award for Best Lesbian Erotica. After spending a year getting better acquainted and growing closer via emails, the Lambda Literary Awards ceremony promises to be a momentous occasion for both author and presenter.
From the very first page of her first novel, I was enamored. She wrote the way I wanted to be held. She took me prisoner while I frantically turned pages, sitting at the edge of my seat, my tight jeans digging into my swollen clit. She wrote some of the hottest lesbian romance I’d ever read. Sometimes I actually came in my pants in the middle of reading a sex scene because I was so immersed in the plot and invested in the characters that I simply forgot they were figments falling in love with each other and not me.
After re-reading her novel until the pages looked like they were ravaged by a hungry pack of wolves, I summoned the courage to e-mail this author. I had to convey how deeply her writing touched me, how her words resonated in the core of my soul, and at the same time, caressed my body like a talented woman.
I was over the moon when she answered my first shy note, and within a few weeks we were exchanging e-mails regularly like old friends. We wrote and chatted online for almost a year, but had never met. Through cyberspace, we shared photos, secrets, desires, and laughter. We discussed everything from writing styles to how she wrote her first tantalizing sex scene. Her descriptions of fisting, in particular, had me intrigued. I wondered if she knew I had never tried it, but was dying to.
At first sight, I truly believed that Angel was sent to me from heaven. I was already in love with her mind, but I knew it was her body I was going to worship. She was a few inches taller than I was and stunning with her spiked red hair, small straight nose, and shimmering emerald eyes. Her shoulders were broad, her waist was slender, and her snug, man-tailored shirt showed off ample breasts. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a throat I wanted instantly to lick. Her long legs and the way they led to her firm butt had me drooling. With a jacket slung over her shoulder and boots with two-inch heels, she looked like an Amazon.
I wondered if she’d seen me. The cocktail hour was all abuzz, and I busied myself mingling with the other guests, waiting for our paths to cross. The champagne was going to my head and elsewhere. It wasn’t even my big night. Well, not for a literary award, but for something I longed for from the first moment I started having these fantasies. Perhaps my latest romance novel would be in the running next year, but I couldn’t think about that now. I was about to meet her face to face.
It was ironic that I was presenting the award for Best Lesbian Erotica. I could almost smell the lust oozing from my pores. Angel was a finalist for the Debut Fiction award; too bad I wasn’t presenting that one. If it were up to me, she would win in every category, especially Romance and Erotica.
When she finally glanced in my direction and our eyes met, my pulse quickened, my heart pounded hard in my chest, and my clit sprang to attention. I had dreamed about this moment for an eternity, and as she looked me over, the anticipation of breathing the same air as her was unbearable. My skintight black strapless dress with the plunging neckline seemed to do the trick. She smiled as she checked out my cleavage. Thank you Victoria’s Secret for helping Mother Nature. I knew I was blushing furiously, but I watched her take me in, loving her slow, sensual appraisal. I ached to run my fingers through her short, spiked red hair. I wondered if she was a natural redhead and yearned to find out. Her eyes lingered at my breasts once more before they lifted to mine, gorgeous green eyes that sparkled just for me. Her mouth parted in a mischievous smile.
“Finally,” she said.
“Finally, I replied.
It was hard to believe that two critically acclaimed authors couldn’t come up with anything more poetic than that. After months of being the biggest flirt this side of the Internet, I was finally meeting the recipient of my corny jokes, endless prattle, and long-winded beating around the bush about what I really wanted. A mixture of amusement, pleasure, and outright lust flitted over her face as if she was recalling every e-mail we’d exchanged over the last year. For a moment, all of the secrets, laughter, unquestioning friendship, and tentative exploration of new sexual territory showed in the way her eyes gleamed.
We grabbed beers from a passing waiter, clinked bottles, and said, “Cheers,” in unison. We laughed. She had beautiful, even white teeth.
“You look great,” I said. Good enough to eat. Her Internet photos didn’t do her justice.
“So do you,” she answered, her eyes locked on mine.
I touched her arm and wanted to touch so much more. “Good luck tonight. You’re sure to win.”
“Thanks, but have you read the others in the category? I think I have some stiff competition.”
“Stiff as in dead. There’s no contest. You may as well claim the prize so the two of us can go back to your hotel and fuck our brains out.” I couldn’t believe I just said that. From the surprise on her face, neither could she, but then she grinned.
“You wanna?” She said it jokingly, but her gaze belied her nonchalance.
“Sure, let’s blow this joint.”
We both laughed, knowing there was no way we were going to leave before they handed out the awards. It was fun to tease, though, except the teasing was making my clit twitch. Now that I’d met her, I was more sure that the things we’d hinted we’d like to do in a night of passion were going to happen. Part of me started to panic, but I looked at her again and I felt safe. It was going to be hard to concentrate on the ceremonies.
“Shall we go in,” she said when the lights flashed.
I nodded, and she downed the rest of her beer. I had hardly touched mine. We gave the bottles to the waiter collecting empties, and she led the way into the auditorium with her arm loosely around the small of my back. Her touch was light, but it sent electric currents through every heightened nerve ending in my body. I shivered slightly.
“Are you cold?” She put her arm around my bare shoulder. “Would you like my jacket?”
How sweet. I shook my head. “You’re so hot. I mean, your body is exuding enough warmth to keep me toasty, but thanks.”
“You’re pretty hot yourself. You smell nice.” She rubbed her cheek against my hair, and I nearly fainted. Fortunately, we found our seats just before my knees gave out. Sitting close with only the armrest as a barrier, I leaned into her. “You nervous?”
“Nah.”
“Liar. I can feel you shaking in your boots.”
“That shaking has nothing to do with the awards.” Her eyes were hungry, as if she wanted to devour me
in a single gulp. If she leaned toward me one more inch, our faces would touch. I longed to kiss those lips when she moistened them with her tongue. I wanted to be that tongue.
The lights went down and she nonchalantly put her hand on my thigh just under my dress. I moved ever closer as her hand inched its way up the inside of my thigh and spread my legs farther apart. It took all my strength not to scream out, Don’t stop. Claim your prize.
I prayed that she would keep going, knowing the thin silk of my panties would not get in her way. She answered my prayers and pushed the material aside. My clit was about to explode. Her nimble fingers caressed my soft curls and I sighed. It was delicious. Keep going. You’re almost there, almost…and just when I thought I was about to get my wish, the emcee took center stage and began his shtick. Angel cleared her throat and readjusted herself in the chair. If her clit was pulsating as frantically as mine, she was likely to miss her category being called, so I reluctantly let her go. I busied myself fiddling with the cue cards I had for presenting. I almost missed my introduction, but a nudge from Angel and I smoothed my dress, ran a hand through my hair, and ventured toward the stage careful not to trip.
The stage was hot, the audience welcoming, but despite the glaring lights, I could make out Angel sitting with her legs spread wide and a reassuring grin plastered on her face. It was as if she was the only one there in the packed auditorium.
I delivered my well-rehearsed speech, laced with as many jokes as I could muster, and announced the winner for Best Lesbian Erotica. I didn’t wait onstage for her to thank everyone, but made my way back to my seat. Once seated, I could tell that Angel was sweating with anticipation for her award. Best Debut Fiction was up next.
I took her hand and squeezed it. “Good luck,” I whispered in her ear, purposely tickling her with my breath. The lights from the stage were just enough for me to make out her hardened nipples beneath her shirt.
I heard her name and jumped out of my seat. The cover of her novel was larger than life on the two-story screen. She sat there stunned for a second, but got her legs to work and regained her composure. She stood up, and I hugged her in congratulations. The heat between us ignited my fire even more. I was bursting with excitement. Seeing her stride to the podium, so confident and poised, made her that much more desirable, if that were possible. I wanted her so badly. My favorite book had won, but more importantly, my favorite author had won, and I planned to be the one to help her celebrate.
Attractions of the Heart Page 7