No Other Love

by Harper Bliss

  Annie’s hand was on Jane’s back and she slid it up to the nape of her neck, pulled Jane close, and kissed her. She let her tongue dance inside Jane’s mouth as she pressed her body against her wife’s. She slipped her knee between Jane’s legs and tumbled half on top of her. Jane’s hands were in her hair now, pulling Annie closer—even though they were already as close as they could possibly get.

  Jane fumbled with the clasp of Annie’s bra. Annie took a brief pause from kissing Jane to push herself up so her breasts could be free. Jane tossed the bra somewhere into the semi-darkness of the room and cupped Annie’s breasts. Another dart of arousal pierced through Annie. God, she wanted her. She would go slow for Jane, but Annie was already running out of patience. Her desire so fierce, so undeniable.

  Jane pushed Annie onto her back, let her hands slip from her breasts, and pressed her body against Annie while kissing her deeply. Jane’s hair fell onto Annie’s shoulders and it was just as arousing as feeling Jane’s hands on her breasts. It spurred on Annie’s lust—and this particular bout of lust was inspired by Jane alone. By the combination of them. Not by lingering thoughts of Kristin. This was just them. With the way Jane’s hair fell down, Annie felt like she was in a cocoon of her and Jane, shielded from anything that was beyond their faces. From anything that had stood in their way before.

  Annie held Jane tight while their kisses continued and deepened, until she let her hands meander down to her ass, and she cupped the cheeks through Jane’s panties. She dug in her fingertips, letting Jane know that if she was ready to take it to the next level, so was Annie.

  Jane took the hint and gave Annie one last peck on her lips before kissing a path down her chin to her neck. She kissed her way down, slowly, to Annie’s breasts and clasped her wet lips around Annie’s rock-hard nipple. She let her tongue spin around, then, ever so briefly, clenched Annie’s nipple between her teeth, eliciting a moan from Annie’s throat.

  Jane repeated the process with Annie’s other nipple, alternating between gently licking and briefly biting until the moans from Annie’s throat grew so fierce and her calls for more came louder.

  To Annie’s relief, Jane started kissing a way ever more south. She lingered at the sensitive skin between her belly button and where her panties began. Annie wanted those panties off her. She wanted to feel air on her pulsing pussy lips, followed by Jane’s tongue. Jane wasted no time pulling down Annie’s underpants. Annie let her legs fall apart, as she had done so many times for her wife in the past, yet it felt like a new beginning all the same.

  Jane took position between Annie’s legs. She stroked the inside of her thighs, and her fingers circled ever closer to Annie’s pussy, indicating where her tongue would touch down soon. The gesture was driving Annie wild and she pushed up her pelvis. It was the best thing she could think of to do save from speaking—from begging Jane to go down on her already.

  But she didn’t have to beg. This was her wife, who knew all of Annie’s facial expressions as well as her body language.

  When Jane finally bent over, her hair cascading down Annie’s thighs, Annie felt like she had waited weeks—months—for that kiss down there. For that first contact between Jane’s soft, warm tongue and her aching clit. She breathed a sigh of relief—temporary relief, but relief nonetheless. The momentary release of tension was soon forgotten as Jane’s tongue circled around her clit, making Annie’s muscles contract with more desire needing to be met.

  It was as though Annie could feel Jane’s tongue everywhere, as though the warm touch of it reverberated through her entire body, all over her skin. She sank deeper into the mattress and surrendered to Jane’s delicious touch, her deft tongue bringing Annie to new heights.

  Then a finger circled Annie’s entrance. She didn’t even have time—or the mental capacity—to consider whether she was wet enough and they should break out the lube. Sometimes it was necessary; sometimes it wasn’t. Jane was an excellent judge of that and as Annie felt a finger enter her, she concluded she was more than wet enough. Jane’s finger inside of her ratcheted up her arousal another notch and when Jane, while fucking her, brought her tongue back into play as well, Annie was lost. She gave herself up to Jane’s finger and tongue. To Jane’s attentions, which she had so missed of late—in and out of the bedroom.

  “Oh Jane.” Annie wasn’t even sure she said the words out loud or just in her head. But she repeated them as a mantra, as the words guided her to undeniable climax. Until all else ceased and Annie was purely her body at the mercy of her wife. She drifted up to that cloud of pure pleasure, where nothing else existed in the world but utter joy. An all-encompassing warmth overtook her, cleared her mind of all the clutter, and smoothed any bumps in the road of her life. It was a release of tension and lust and ballast all at once.

  Annie breathed out deeply as Jane’s finger withdrew. She wanted to reach for the tissue box on the night stand so Jane could wipe her hand, but Annie didn’t have the strength to move. Not for a while. And she wanted to tell Jane that everything would become better again. That this phase she was in was just that—a phase that would pass. She would, one day, have the best orgasms again—perhaps even better than ever before. But Annie was tongue-tied by satisfaction, silenced by the sheer pleasure of having come at her wife’s finger and tongue —because there was no greater delight in the world.

  What had she been thinking lusting after another woman, anyway? Could anything with Kristin ever have been better than this? Annie drew the swift conclusion that it was impossible. What Jane had just bestowed upon her wasn’t just any old orgasm, it was love and a display of knowledge gained after so many years together. She knew what Annie liked and knew how to give it to her. What could possibly ever replace that?

  “Come here,” Annie said when she regained the power of speech.

  Jane crawled up to her and nestled herself in the crook of Annie’s arm.

  “That was amazing.” Annie lay basking in the afterglow of her orgasm with her wife in her arms.

  “No lube required,” Jane said.

  “That leaves all the more for you,” Annie joked, because after an orgasm like that, a joke was definitely allowed.

  Chapter Thirty

  A flicker of pride glowed deep inside of Jane. It always did when Annie lay spent next to her like that. For a brief moment, she thought this was enough. She’d made Annie happy—she’d made her come. Why, just for now, when she was going through this transition—Jane refused to use the word change—couldn’t they just leave it at that, and spare themselves a potential issue? But it was a cowardly way of thinking. Besides, going down on Annie had got Jane’s juices flowing. And whereas insecurity surely had a place in the bedroom at times, Jane couldn’t keep on clinging to it. She couldn’t keep on using it as a shield, because, in the end, it was only herself she was punishing.

  Annie turned on her side. Jane was still lying half on her arm. She kissed Annie’s biceps and flashed her a smile.

  “Do you want to talk?” Annie asked with a soft voice.

  “Not really.” Jane wouldn’t know what to say. And hadn’t they talked enough the past few weeks?

  “You just want me to drive you wild?” Annie brought a hand to Jane’s belly and let it rest there.

  A slew of memories rushed into Jane’s mind of all the times Annie had effectively driven her beyond a point of no return. It made her realize that this was not down to Annie at all. It was Jane’s task to get out of her head, to let go, to let all the events of the past few months wash away from her and start anew. Even though that was easier said than done when her hormones were raging in a way that threw her so much that she didn’t know what was happening with her own body.

  It wouldn’t be Jane’s doing alone. She needed Annie as her guide. Her trusted companion. She needed her because, as she had told Annie reluctantly during their last conversation, when she tried to come on her own, it hadn’t been a big success.

  “Just do what you always do and we’ll take it
from there,” Jane said.

  “You got it.” Annie let her hand slip down, a finger already reaching beneath Jane’s panties. “Let’s get these off you.”

  But Annie didn’t push her panties down, not yet. She just let her finger dip down deeper, stroking Jane’s hair down there, then scooting even lower. She pushed the panties up with the back of her hand, creating some room for movement. Annie’s finger lightly skimmed her nether lips, its fingertip meandering up and down.

  This wasn’t what Annie usually did. Not the past few years, anyway. It was what she used to do, back in the day, in the beginning of their affair, when Jane knew next to nothing and she believed Annie was privy to all the knowledge she so desperately lacked.

  When Jane was in her mid-twenties and Annie had taken her to bed, Jane was brimming with youthful enthusiasm and vigor and impatience. And it was Annie who had taught her to slow down, to take a moment to enjoy a gentle caress. It was Annie who had first made her climax—no other woman had previously been able to get her there.

  Annie was creating the sort of charged stillness she had schooled Jane to enjoy. Jane was glad for that moment, before her panties would be discarded and her wetness—or lack thereof—would be on display. Annie kept caressing her and the old impatience stirred in Jane for a split second. She took it as a good sign.

  When Annie finally retracted her hand from her panties, Jane was more than ready to get rid of the garment. She needed that free feeling of being naked, of not feeling constrained by any fabric. But instead of quickly stripping off her bra, she waited for Annie to do it for her. Annie, however, wasn’t done down there just yet. Light as a feather, she let her finger skim over the gusset of Jane’s panties, stroking her lips and even circling her clit with the lightest of touches.

  Jane should have known that Annie would take her task of driving Jane wild seriously. That she would do her utmost to deliver on the promise she had made. Because never before had Annie’s devotion for her been in question. Perhaps that was why her falling for another woman had shaken Jane so profoundly. Never before had Jane had the slightest reason to doubt Annie’s love for her. Maybe it came with being the younger one in the relationship, but she had always known that, no matter what—even when Jane herself had fallen in love with someone else—Annie would always be there for her. If anything, the whole Beth Walsh thing had only strengthened that belief.

  Jane knew it was unfair, and that she was judging her wife by a different standard than the one by which she judged herself. That complete devotion to one person was an illusion. Yet, she had believed in it. Maybe Annie’s crush on Kristin was the universe’s way of balancing everything out again. Of showing Jane that she shouldn’t take her wife for granted.

  “I love you,” she whispered to Annie, as though those three simple words could make up for all the hurt she’d ever caused Annie. But Jane had to believe that, in that very moment, they could.

  Annie kissed her on the cheek as she ran her fingertip over Jane’s clit a bit more persistently. It was her way of saying it back. But even throughout all if this Kristin business, Jane had never doubted Annie’s love for her. That was the thing about Annie—there was no other love than hers. Nothing could ever compare. Jane had known this when she told Beth she couldn’t see her anymore. Even though at the time it didn’t feel as though Annie’s love might be enough, Jane trusted that, in the end, it would. And it was. Annie’s love would always be enough.

  Annie kissed Jane’s neck, then her shoulder, and along her bra strap. She traced a path of soft kisses all the way to where her breast curved out of her bra. It was as though Annie wanted to kiss every last inch of Jane’s skin, which was fine by Jane. She reveled in Annie’s touch. And if it was Annie’s goal to slowly, by the gentle administering of kisses and the lightest of caresses, encourage Jane to stop overthinking this, it was working.

  Finally, Annie made a move to get Jane out of her bra. Jane arched her back to help her and relished the feeling of her breasts being freed. And of Annie’s eyes on them.

  “I need you naked,” Annie whispered and went to work on getting Jane’s panties down her legs. Jane noticed the use of the word need instead of want. Annie might have already had an amazing—her words—climax, but she needed this as much as Jane did.

  At last, they were both naked.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Annie whispered and came to lie next to Jane.

  Jane turned her head and sought Annie’s mouth. She kissed her wife and as her tongue slipped between Annie’s lips, she spread her legs—granting Annie access. Jane cupped the back of Annie’s head, making clear she wanted Annie’s mouth to remain on hers. Wasn’t a kiss the most intimate gesture of all? The mingling of breath, the opening of lips toward the other? But as Annie’s hand traveled between her legs again, in search of Jane’s pleasure, Jane concluded, that was most intimate of all. Because Jane had to lose herself twice. First in the kiss, and second in Annie’s touch. It took a higher level of trust—at least for her it did.

  Annie’s finger circled her entrance while her tongue swirled in and out of Jane’s mouth. It was a delicate dance that lifted the ability of Jane’s senses to feel, hear and smell. Her eyes were closed and she could still smell Annie on her fingers. The light groan coming from Annie’s throat echoed her own. And, oh, that finger down there. Jane felt its touch reverberate deep within her, dislodging whatever had been stuck. The part of her that had been standing in the way of her own pleasure.

  Annie’s finger didn’t enter her, but instead focused on Jane’s clit again. Annie rubbed it lightly, not applying too much pressure, then let her palm fall flat on Jane’s pussy before cupping it gently.

  “Just a second,” Annie breathed into Jane’s ear. “Don’t move.”

  “What is—” Jane started to say.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” Annie flashed her another smile. One that didn’t invite any more questions. Jane knew what was happening and she trusted Annie to take care of it.

  Annie leaned toward the night stand and Jane heard a drawer open. While Annie balanced on her knees, Jane heard a very unsubtle squirting sound. Maybe it was nerves, or maybe the sound was just too funny, but she burst out into a giggle, which had the benefit of relaxing her. What did it matter anyway that she needed some aid in the lubrication department?

  As if nothing had happened, Annie took position by her side again, her body draped next to Jane’s in the same way as before, her hand hovering between her legs already.

  Annie glanced at her as if to say, this will happen. I’ll do whatever it takes. And the fact that Jane knew that Annie would go as far as needed relaxed her even further.

  Annie’s wet fingers landed on Jane’s pussy and resumed their skimming motion from before. She dragged them up and circled them around Jane’s clit again, and the sensation was altogether different than earlier. At once, everything felt much more promising, much more possible. Just the addition of the lube was enough to hitch up Jane’s arousal. Some added wetness, like what she’d felt when she’d slid her own fingers inside of Annie earlier, aroused her enough to at least believe in the option of an orgasm.

  Annie leaned in and kissed her again while she increased the pressure on Jane’s clit. She moaned softly into Jane’s mouth, a sound that had previously proven to be a great turn-on for Jane. Their lips melded so well together. After twenty years, they knew how to kiss each other, they knew what the other liked and disliked. It was a soft, intimate blur of lips and tongue. When Jane touched herself, in search of a quick climax, it was often their kisses she missed. Annie’s tongue claiming her mouth was one of the greatest joys she’d ever known.

  Annie’s finger became more insistent, more demanding as she increased the speed of her circles to frenetic.

  Jane’s tongue stilled in Annie’s mouth as she focused on the heat that rose from the depths of her belly to the surface of her skin, to where her clit met Annie’s finger over and over again.

  “Ah,�
�� she let out a short moan. Annie’s lips had withdrawn from hers and when she opened her eyes she looked straight into her wife’s face.

  “Are you good?” Annie asked.

  Apparently, this was the kind of climax where the question needed to be asked. Jane didn’t sink deeper into the mattress, spent, and she didn’t sport the same sort of satisfied smile Annie had displayed earlier.

  “I’m okay.” Jane clasped her legs together.

  “But things could be better?” Annie tilted her head.

  “It was a bit… underwhelming.” Jane hoped her honesty wouldn’t hurt Annie’s feelings. “The way it has always been lately.”

  Annie nodded. She seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Are you up for some more?” A mischievous grin appeared on her face.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want you to be satisfied, babe.” Her grin changed into a soft smile.

  “Okay.” Jane had two choices. Go with Annie’s flow or retreat into self-pity, which wouldn’t help her forward at all. “You have permission to do whatever it is you’re going to do next.” She kissed Annie on the cheek and let her lips linger.

  Annie nodded solemnly, the skin of her cheek grazing Jane’s mouth. She twisted her torso away and rummaged inside the night-stand’s drawer again. When she returned, her hand held a vibrator, attached to a power cord, which Jane had never seen before.

  “Where did you get that?” Jane’s eyes grew wide.

  “Where we get most things these days.” Another grin. “Online. Discreet delivery to the shop.” She pushed a button at the base of the toy and it emitted a whirring sound. “No more disposable batteries. This baby has some power.” She held it briefly against Jane’s side. “I’m pretty sure it will leave you feeling amazing instead of merely okay.” She held it in front of Jane’s face. “The only question is are you wielding it or am I?”