Lessons in Love

by Lessons in Love [Bold Strokes FF] (retail) (epub)

  She tasted so good. Hot and sweet. I ran my hands up under her shirt and squeezed the warm weight of her breasts. She arched into me, still tugging on my hair. I found her nipples and pinched. She cried out and then clenched her teeth just before she jerked me in for another heated kiss. As our tongues dueled, I reached down to her jeans and quickly unbuttoned the fly. She stole her mouth from mine as I shoved the denim down over her hips.

  “Hurry. Oh God, hurry.” Her breath tickled my neck.

  Other voices and soft cries floated to us, encouraging. She began to buck in their rhythm, desperate for the pleasures they felt. With her pants pulled halfway down and her demands in my ear, I reached out and cupped her layered flesh through her panties, rubbing the heel of my hand against her shaft. She tensed powerfully and bit into my shoulder. I felt her wet heat and felt my own crotch flood with excitement. She was so incredibly hot, and alive, and ready. I had to have more. Had to feel more. She wanted it too.

  I tore down her underwear and slammed her back harder against the wall. She looked into my eyes like a desperate, dying creature.

  “Make me come,” she insisted. “Now.”

  She leaned forward slightly and teased my lower lip with her teeth as she spoke. “Hurry, Gina.”

  A low moan came from within me. I kissed her forcefully as my hand found her slick, hot core. She shuddered and cried into my mouth as my fingers edged her blood-filled clitoris, stroking up and down the sides, playing it just right. She turned her head, desperate for the breaths that weren’t coming. I moved my hand lower, gathered the warm silk pooled at her hole and spread it over and around her growing cleft.

  I rubbed and stroked her, forcing the pleasure to build. She quivered at the direct contact and I knew she couldn’t take much more. With my fingers adequately lubricated with her desire, I stopped the sensual assault and pushed up into her, nearly lifting her off her feet. Her eyes flew open, wide with intense pleasure. A hoarse gasp escaped her as I braced myself to take her weight. She hugged my shoulders tightly as I lifted and supported her left leg, holding her open to me. Her body bore down on me, encasing my fingers, swallowing them up inside. I pumped her slowly at first, long and deep, loving the feel of her all wet and tight. She made low, throaty noises and continued to close her eyes tightly and then open them in surprise as each wave of ecstasy washed through her. Tiny beads of sweat formed on her upper lip, the pleasure I was milking coming to the surface.

  “Please,” she managed to say. “Fuck me.”

  Her eyes held mine and I saw the erotic haze cloud her pupils. My insides burned brighter with white-hot heat and I pumped her shorter, harder, faster. She tossed her head back and strained her neck.

  “Mmm. Mmm.”

  She couldn’t speak, but I didn’t need her to. My fingers fed her, filled her, fucked her. I pushed my thumb forward and found her twitching clit. Her body tightened as my hand performed its incredible magic.

  I kissed her and found that she was barely able to kiss me back. I looked into her face and wanted to get lost in her. I wanted to crawl back down inside her with every inhalation she took, wanted to curl up in the warm confines of her soul. She seemed to sense this and focused on me. We spoke. We shared. We welcomed.

  And then she came.

  Her soul bled into mine and we swam there in that warm tide of raw existence for what felt like an eternity. Her body tensed and then shook, her eyes clenched and then devoured, her mouth moved and then silenced. Eventually she let out a long sigh and fell limp against me. I moved cautiously and slid my fingers out of her tight, pulsing crevice. I stood back and watched as she dressed herself. My hand felt heavy and stiff and I opened and closed it, feeling the sticky wet of her against my skin. She buttoned her fly and gazed at me. I expected her to speak but was surprised and startled when she grabbed my neck and pulled me to her for a kiss.

  It was softer than before, but more deliberate. Her full lips sucked mine, her tongue rimming them, teasing them. And then, in an instant, she turned my body and shoved me up against the wall. Her hands pressed into my chest, ensuring I wouldn’t escape. She slowly licked her lips and lowered her hands. I reached for her wrists, not sure I was ready for what was in her hungry eyes. It would be a huge exposure on my part. And the final blow to my already sinking relationship.

  She seemed to sense this, sensed how close I was to the edge. She fought me gently, encouraging me, and tugged open my jeans with a mischievous laugh.

  She dropped to her knees and held me firm by my pants. Inch by inch they went, exposing the heated skin of my thighs. Her breath sent shock waves of lust up my spine, causing me to gasp and grab hold of her head. I held her back, unable to take it and unsure of my desire. Fucking her was one thing, but letting her fuck me was another. My head swam in a sea of confusion, lust, and betrayal. Her fiery eyes looked up into me, slowly baking into my conscience, sweetening it, warming it, seducing it with pleasurable promises.

  My hand fell to my side, useless. My other remained in her hair as she leaned closer to my center. I watched her lower her gaze and extend her tongue. She worked her way up my thighs to my panties and I nearly collapsed as my knees buckled from the warm, velvety caress. She braced my hips with her hands and moaned as she licked her way to the soaking cotton that held my flesh. Her tongue flattened against the fabric of the panties, stroking me up and down with just enough pressure to make me buck. My hand tightened in her hair. Suddenly I didn’t think I could continue. I heard someone climax not far from where we were. It sounded wild and low, like a howling animal.

  “I…I can’t,” I rasped. This wasn’t what I really wanted. This wasn’t where I wanted to be. And she, she wasn’t who I wanted.

  She looked up at me. “Yes, you can. I’ll make sure you can.”

  She started to pull my panties down but I stopped her, thinking somehow that if they remained, I would be okay, things would be okay. She studied me a moment, as if trying to understand. Then she moved into me again, this time rimming her tongue under the seams of my panties. I swallowed hard and tilted my head as the pleasure raced up through me. She teased my clit by stretching her tongue to lightly skim it and then pulled away back to the edge. I shivered as she traced all around me, over and over, shooting for my clit in quick, torturous movements. Unknowingly, I rocked my hips into her, my body growing desperate for more.

  She conceded and pressed her face into me, her mouth and tongue alive and feeding, sucking me through my panties. I cried out and held her head to me. The pleasure was great but not nearly enough. It was killing me, and suddenly I was reminded of the desperate look in her eyes just moments ago. I was now feeling the intensity she had felt. She sucked me harder, groaning into me. I groaned back, panting, dying. It wasn’t enough, dear God it wasn’t enough. And I had to have it.

  Hastily and nearly trembling, I moved my hand from her hair and tugged at the side of my underwear, exposing my craving, starving flesh. She stopped long enough to let me and then refastened onto me. She fed my aching flesh its pleasure and then fed herself with the reward of my nectar. My mouth fell open and sounds escaped me as the pleasure intensified. I shoved into her, loving it, loving every last bit of it.

  I looked down at her head and watched it bob back and forth, my meat held firm between her powerful lips. I came as I watched her work me. My legs stiffened and I pushed myself into her forcefully, insisting she take all of me. She held me in her mouth for ages, swirling her tongue around the captured flesh. I clung to her head and shuddered, my breath coming out in short groaning grunts.

  “Fuck,” I managed, my eyes closed.

  “Mmm,” she moaned.

  I stilled as the last bolt of satisfaction shot through me, electrifying every cell. My legs trembled and my heart pounded in my ears. I felt her release me and then lick me long and hard with her flattened tongue. I twitched and groaned and nearly fell, unable to take any more. I heard her laugh, but it was faded and distant. My limp body leaned against the wall
as my mind began to settle. When I opened my eyes she was standing before me, that sexy crooked grin on her face, my come glistening on her chin. She reached down and gently grasped my jeans and brought them up. My hands came to life and I managed to button them without assistance.

  She was watching me curiously, seeming to enjoy the way I was trying to pull myself together.

  “That was hot,” she said, leaning into me, nipping at my ear.

  “Yes,” I agreed, feeling a strange, lethargic calm come over me. “Yes, it was.”

  We left right after that and shared a silent cab ride back to the hotel. She took my face in her hands and kissed me long and tender in the elevator. It lasted the whole way up. We said good night in front of our separate rooms. I let myself in. I didn’t bother with the lights. I just threw myself down on the bed and fell fast asleep.

  When I woke in the morning I didn’t know where I was. I had been dreaming I was at home and in her arms and everything was okay. Just like it used to be. I sat up and turned on the bedside lamp and let my heavy head fall into my hands. I felt guilt, cold and heavy. It stabbed me, plunged into my heart sharply. I wanted her, wanted us. Eventually I sat down and lifted the phone. I dialed her number but she didn’t answer. I left her messages pleading with her to talk to me, insisting that we could work it out somehow, but got no response. I paced. Then I called our voice mail and typed in our code. There were no messages to retrieve. She had heard them all.

  I dropped the receiver and let it hang itself an inch from the floor. I sat there for hours, staring at the sunlight that was desperate and bright around the pulled-tight curtains. I finally rose and stood like a zombie in a shower that was cold but that I couldn’t manage to feel.

  *

  And that’s what brings me to the here and now. This is why I’m smoking the cigarettes that I don’t want, wishing for rain when there isn’t a cloud in the sky. I’m in pain and wanting, needing for everything around me to reflect that. But it doesn’t. The world keeps on turning, mocking my pain, knowing but not caring.

  I shared my story because I had hoped it would help, but now I just feel worse. Now I am all alone and torn and hurt. And exposed. Do you care? I doubt it. We all have problems and you’re probably saying that I deserve this pain. I betrayed myself and my love.

  I agree. Maybe I do deserve this.

  A soft knock calls from my door. I rise and walk slowly to it. The peephole shows me it’s Alex. I breathe deep, my insides still in painful turmoil. I open the door and lean forward to peek out.

  “Hi.” She’s grinning at me and she looks fresh and alive and alluring. Her scent sends my beaten heart racing.

  “Hi.” I’m unable to smile back and my face feels like stone.

  She reaches up and brushes my cheek and instantly I feel hot blood surge some life back into it.

  Now for those of you who already dislike me, this won’t come as a surprise. But for those of you who have yet to make up your mind or are holding out hope for me, this will seal the deal. Because despite my raging turmoil, devastating guilt, and inner determination to get back what I lost, I find myself pushing the door open the rest of the way. I stand still and watch in silence as she enters, her hand trailing down my chest as she walks past me. She turns then in front of the bed and raises her hands to her neck.

  “There aren’t any marks, are there?”

  I shove the door closed behind me and walk with singular intent up to her.

  “No, there aren’t any marks,” I reassure her, my breath quickening in response to my need.

  But there will be this time.

  Knocking Boots

  Evecho

  One Day Only

  "Butchin' Back"

  B/Bs and friends

  UNCENSORED

  Come as you are

  Boon nervously wiped her nose, scratched her eyebrow, then dragged her fingers through her spiky hair and on down to play over the soft fuzz at the back of her neck. Her hairline was neat and freshly shorn that morning, something she loved to touch or have someone pet, usually someone like the cute femme sitting across from her who was devouring a falafel salad and sipping on a mango smoothie.

  Her leg started bouncing faster in an effort to bleed off the butterflies building up in her stomach. She smiled tightly at her date but her mind was preoccupied with nervousness and impatience. Boon swapped the vibrant wagging to her other leg, slower this time.

  It seemed the lunch dragged interminably, but when Boon picked up the bill, her watch showed that it was only three p.m. Much too early, isn’t it?

  She pulled out her battered wallet, which was linked to her belt loop by a thin chain. Inside was a card that announced the party she had been waiting for, the one slated for one day only—today. It was a closed-door affair for butches at the new bathhouse, and Boon had screwed up her courage to go. She stared unseeing at the card lying squashed among scraps of paper and phone numbers in her wallet. For the first time since she came out, Boon was about to admit to liking another kind of woman.

  “Yeah, later, babe,” she said, winking at the girl who had scored a free meal from her. As soon as they parted, Boon began walking to her destination. Her feet stomped on the pavement, past the adult and record shops, and past the urbanwear stores where she bought half her clothes. She looked at the women headed in the same direction, wondering if she would meet them there.

  Naked! I’m going to a bathhouse for a naked butch party! she thought giddily. Immediately, she stopped to inspect her attire of ragged denim shorts, dykey-T and boots, reflected in a shop window. Will they let me in? She knew that she appeared underage, what with her androgynous boi looks, but so did most of the club scene. Except that this wasn’t a dance club. Boon trembled at the possibilities of what might happen today.

  I have to know. No one else could come with her. She had picked up the flyer and hidden it in her pocket because she wasn’t confident that her mates would understand. They were all young, and although raucously open about their sexuality, Boon didn’t think they would be that open with her if they knew about her secret fantasy.

  The venue’s frontage appeared like a closed shop. It was discreetly painted dark brown with the lot number stenciled in white on a side panel. There were a few women milling outside, smoking and chatting. Boon eyed a few of the obvious patrons; one had white crew-cut hair and a sleeveless denim jacket that showed her thick arms and big chest, and another, dressed in a leather body suit, was parking her bike. Boon walked straight through the loose crowd, keeping her eyes forward even as she felt theirs checking her out. Her skin prickled and she was very aware of her street hip clothes—her legs were bare from mid-knee to ankle and her top felt very thin. Her denim shorts were suddenly rough and scratchy, and her boots clompy. Boon felt as nervous as an imposter, or a virgin.

  The bouncer at the door exchanged her ticket for a white wristband before letting her enter. Inside, the foyer was comfortably lit for business. Boon got into the queue so she could nonchalantly peruse the room without being too obvious. There were at least twenty hot women in the lobby distracting her. For one day a month, the whole building was women’s space, but today was a special-themed event. Boon was aware that by standing in view, she was putting herself on display.

  When it was her turn at the counter, she was given a transparent packet containing information and safe sex kits. After a quick laser scan of her wristlet, a locker key was provided. When asked, Boon nodded and paid $10 for two towels and shower gel.

  “There’s information and a map of the venue inside this bag. Lube and rubbers are available on every floor and in the play areas. If you’re not sure what to do or what to use, ask the guides who will be patrolling the venue. They’re the ones in the fluoro green shirts you can see in the dark.” Boon’s head was reeling from the instructions. The woman stopped talking when she saw the lost look on Boon’s face. Gently, she smiled and asked, “First time at a play party?”

  Boon nodded, she was
so embarrassed. The brown-haired butch with the happy eyes was being so kind. She swallowed. “Yes.”

  “You’ll be fine.” A locker key was looped into Boon’s wristband. “You can come out anytime to the chill-out area on the first floor where nothing happens. There, you can rest and eat, or watch the movies and sports on the big screen.”

  The greeter then pressed on Boon’s hand and assured her, “You can always say no. Just be sure where you’re at.” She winked. “Rules are posted everywhere and the guides are happy to help, just don’t try to get them frisky—they have a job to do.”

  Boon smiled at that, feeling slightly better. Then they went over the map together before Boon headed through the turnstile for the lockers. The glass tunnel to the showers and lockers afforded a view of the gym. There were quite a few women there, mainly around the free weights. Boon wondered if the Spandex-clad muscular women would be interested in her small, slim self. One of the rules was “no sex in the gym,” as it was unsafe. Looking at the sweat running down bulging limbs, Boon could imagine that other fluids on the equipment and benches might cause injury.

  Rows of lockers and benches in the changing room were set out for utility, but the choice of a closed or open shower was for pleasure as well as cleanliness. Boon was suddenly thrown into nude company, although not all the women were naked—most were partially clothed. The ruling attire seemed to be towels, sport bras, singlets, or shorts. Boon tried not to stare but she gloried in the variety of women there for a single purpose.

  She found her locker and started putting her stuff away, but hesitated at her clothes. She hadn’t brought any spare—she wasn’t even wearing underwear! Taking a deep breath, Boon looked around and saw short-haired women dressing and undressing, one had her ass slapped as she was slipping on a harness, and a couple of bois walked around boldly wearing only tight Jockey shorts. Swiftly, before she could think about it, Boon yanked off her top and chucked it into her locker before slamming the door shut, only to open it again to grab a safe sex kit. Then she strolled casually around the back to the showers.