In the Mood for Love

by Harper Bliss

“Let’s make it one she never forgets,” Violet said and pushed Roz’ body upwards so she could get her head—and tongue—close enough to Anna’s clit.

  Roz watched Violet’s tongue slip back and forth over Anna’s clit while she drove the dildo into her pussy. Roz felt her own climax build but she had to focus on her wife first. Anna’s hands tore feverishly at Violet’s long black hair, pushing her mouth onto her clit. A long loud groan announced the arrival of Anna’s orgasm. It beamed through the room and made the hair on Roz’ neck stand up. Violet licked her lips when she lifted up her head and shot Roz a triumphant smile. Roz pulled out and slipped her body next to Anna’s so she could kiss her. Anna lay there as if in a trance, her eyes screwed shut and her body still trembling. Roz planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and felt her own juices seep down between her legs.

  “My turn, I believe,” Violet said while tapping Roz on the shoulder. “No need to get up.” Violet straddled Roz and pushed her down by the shoulders. She lowered herself onto the dildo and started bopping up and down. After the first few thrusts Roz knew she wouldn’t be able to stop it this time. The leather, moisturised by her own juices, rubbed against her clit every time Violet pressed down. Anna still lay recovering next to her, her hot skin rubbing against Roz’ arms every time she moved to meet Violet.

  Violet stretched herself out over Roz’s body and Roz grabbed her heaving breasts, her thumbs stroking the erect nipples. As if she was manipulating her own clit, Roz intensified the movement of her thumb over Violet’s nipple the more aroused she got, which seemed to spur on Violet’s excitement as well. Violet’s mouth opened wider and wider as her moans got louder and soon Roz was mixing in her own yelps of pleasure.

  She searched for Anna’s hand next to her and found it just in time to squeeze it as she came, shuddering and panting under Violet and the harness. Violet’s eyes were reduced to slits while she rode herself to ecstasy. Roz, wiped out by the succession of orgasms and the strapping on, still had a few thrusts inside of her and swayed her hips to the beat of Violet’s body. Roz needed her to come quickly because her clit had become ultra-sensitive and was getting desperate for some fresh air. It didn’t take long before Violet sighed her own prolonged sigh of relief, shivering on top of Roz.

  “Blimey,” Violet said as she dismounted. “Lily never lets me down.” Roz couldn’t wait to get out of the harness and Violet helped her undo the leather straps. “The woman wielding it was not so bad either,” she whispered in Roz’ ear as she lovingly put Lily to the side. “How’s the wife?”

  “Still catching her breath,” Anna said. “That was so damn hot.”

  “We may need to cool off in the pool,” Violet remarked. “I’m flying back to London tomorrow and god knows when I’ll get to skinny-dip again.”

  “Something tells me it won’t be that long,” Roz said, wondering about this mysterious woman and the lifestyle she led at home.

  “If you’re ever in New York…” Anna said, a lazy grin plastered across her face.

  “Time for some more night swimming, ladies.” Violet, looking surprisingly energetic after the orgasm she just had, hopped off the bed and raced down the stairs.

  Roz’ legs trembled when she tried to get up, but then again, she had the largest climax count of the night so far.

  “Are you all right, babe?” Anna asked.

  Roz grabbed her wife’s hand—it smelled of sex and pussy—and planted a firm kiss on her palm. “I love you.” They descended the stairs together and found Violet with her hands in her hair, her magnificent chest pushed forward, while she showered under the cascading water fountain in the corner of the pool. “The night’s not over yet.”

  Head first and unrestrained by clothing this time, Roz dived into the pool. The water flowed sensually around her skin. She swam towards the thrilling image of Violet’s naked breasts, water spilling over her pert nipples. Maybe it was anatomically impossible, but Roz felt her pussy lips throb again. It was clearly a case of mind over matter. Roz cradled Violet’s breasts with both her hands and pushed them together, letting her tongue travel between the brown buds of her nipples.

  “Save some for me,” Anna said behind her back and soon they were each feasting on one of Violet’s breasts, sucking and fondling them as if they were the world’s greatest treasure. Violet leaned backwards until her body found the support of the fountain wall and she stood there, like some Asian Goddess descended from the heavens, sent especially to make their honeymoon a trip worth remembering forever.

  The water rained down Roz’ back in a soothing stream, washing her clean of the earlier produced juices and firing her up for the next round. Anna kissed Violet against the wall and her hands trailed lower and lower. Roz could see her wife’s fingers approach the pitch black mound of Violet’s pubes and, rather than any kind of jealousy, it sent wave after wave of raw lust through her bones. They were just bodies now, bodies looking for pleasure and release. Roz joined the party just in time to hear Anna say, “I want to lick your pussy.” Violet’s eyes shone wildly under the faint outdoor lighting.

  “That can be arranged.” Violet moved a few inches to the corner of the pool. She climbed the two steps and grabbed a towel from the deck chair, bunched it up and planted her behind on it, her legs already starting to spread. Anna kneeled on the pool stairs and started kissing Violet’s inner thighs. Roz, never one to have idle hands, positioned herself behind her wife and caressed her buttocks. Anna’s pussy bobbed in and out of the pool while she moved her face up and down over Violet.

  Roz concluded she had the best seat in the house again and proceeded to fondle her wife’s butt, zoning in on the pinkness of her sometimes exposed pussy. She watched as Anna slipped two fingers inside Violet and decided it would be a good time to do the same. Anna was so wet and bucked down so hard on Roz’ fingers that she was soon going at her with three, contemplating a fourth. She watched Anna’s tongue slip and slide over Violet’s glistening clit while her fingers slammed in and out. Roz let Anna set the pace and moved her other hand under water in search of Anna’s clit.

  On the other side, Violet’s grunts grew hoarser and when Roz looked up she saw how Violet dug her nails into the soft fabric of the towel. Drops of water shimmered on Violet’s body as Anna fucked and licked her to another orgasm. The sight of her own fingers disappearing inside Anna’s pussy caused a tingle to creep up Roz’ spine every time she pushed forward. Her other hand manipulated Anna’s clit under water and Roz marvelled at the sight of so much pleasure. Anna had let her forehead fall onto the towel and she rode Roz’ fingers hard. Her body made sloshing sounds in the water and they mixed with the slapping sound of Roz’ fingers in her pussy. Roz continued fingering her until Anna’s back was so arched and her muscles shook so hard, Roz feared an orgasm-induced seizure.

  Anna let herself fall on top of Violet, her head landing on her pillowy chest. “Fuck,” she said, “all this swimming has exhausted me.”

  “It is a very high-energy activity,” Violet said with her eyes closed.

  Roz took in her surroundings, maybe for the first time since entering the villa. A green palm tree leaf hung over the wooden fence next to the pool, rustling in the faint breeze. The night was quiet around them—this was not a party hotel. The only sound was the steady drum of the fountain water splashing into the pool. Roz hoped the nearest villas were far enough away for their cries of pleasure to get lost in the wind. Most beautiful of all was Anna’s head rising up and down on Violet’s chest. Her wet hair was draped over Violet’s nipples and her hand rested almost innocently on her belly.

  Maybe paradise is not a place where you watch your wife lick another woman’s pussy, she thought, but it can’t be far off.

  * * *

  Roz woke to the sound of water drumming against glass. Anna lay next to her with her head resting on Roz’ arm and her body still gently heaving with the slow breath of sleep. They weren’t in their room and this wasn’t their bed.

  “Morning,” Viole
t said as she emerged from the bathroom, a white towel slung across her lower body. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I have to dash.”

  Still dizzy with sleep, Roz took in the sight of Violet’s naked breasts one last time before she fished a bra out of her suitcase and covered them. “No worries,” she said with a dry mouth.

  “No need to wake the wife.” Violet grinned. “We’re all a little tired this morning.” She jammed some more stuff into her suitcase, and then faced Roz again. “I’ve arranged an upgrade with the butler.” She flashed Roz a glamorous smile. “The villa’s yours for the rest of your stay. It is your honeymoon after all.” She slipped into a pair of white linen pants and topped it with a tight navy t-shirt. “Enjoy.”

  “But—” Roz started to protest. “That’s not—”

  “I know it’s not necessary.” Violet walked over to the bed. She smelled clean and fresh and of a million flowers. “But seeing as we’ve already shared so much.” She pecked Roz on the cheek and shot her a quick wink. “Give my best to Anna.” A few minutes later she was out of the door and out of their lives.

  Piano Lessons

  “Your heart’s not in it, Ruby. I can tell.” Jill scolds me for the umpteenth time.

  I reposition my fingers and put them in motion, starting on “Für Elise” again. My movements stall, my fingers unwilling to move further. Why am I still coming here, anyway? It was never entirely my own idea to take piano lessons. It was Amber who spurred me on. And Amber is long gone.

  “What’s the matter?” Jill—I haven’t been allowed to call her Mrs. Banks since my first class with her—perches on the edge of the bench I’m sitting on. “Amber?”

  At times, my lessons with Jill resemble therapy sessions more than anything else. She charges less than a shrink, so I’ll take it.

  “Her Facebook relationship status went from ‘single’ to ‘it’s complicated’. It’s been eating at me. What does it mean? Is she seeing someone?” I’m not really looking at Jill. It’s not as if she has the answers, or can tell me anything I don’t know.

  “It’s been what? Four months now?” I always like it when Jill squats next to me on the bench. It feels nice and cozy. Less lonely. “Maybe it’s time you started distracting yourself as well. And stop checking her Facebook thing or whatever that is.”

  “Play four-handed with me?” I turn my face toward Jill. Seeing her fingers travel gracefully over the ivory keys always lifts my spirits.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll play you a tune if, afterwards, you’ll come up and have a gin and tonic with Charlotte and me. Maybe it will give you some liquid courage, and you’ll actually drag yourself out of the house tonight. It’s Saturday, dear. There must be someone out there for you, if only for a rebound one-night stand.”

  “Why Miss Banks.” I feign indignation. It’s not the first time she’s said something like this. “You really shouldn’t talk to your students like that.”

  “I wouldn’t if they didn’t need me to.”

  It’s no coincidence that Jill became my piano teacher. After Amber bought me the keyboard and basically instructed me to ‘take some lessons already’ because she ‘didn’t want to be with someone who suffered from unfulfilled wishes’, I scoured the internet for piano teachers in town. Jill’s website displayed a picture of her, and her biography openly quoted her long-term relationship with ex-ballerina Charlotte Carpenter. It was a no-brainer. I was surprised I got in so easily, but Jill—Mrs. Banks at the time—told me I was lucky. One of her regulars had just moved away and a spot had unexpectedly opened up.

  That was two years ago. I’ve become a much better piano player since then, but Amber is no longer around to hear me play.

  “Nothing turns me on more than pianist fingers,” she used to say, and for a while, at least, she seemed to be speaking the truth.

  “Fine,” I say to Jill. “But only because Charlotte is always so nice to me.”

  “I told you. That’s because she has the hots for you.” Jill swings her legs over to the other side. “Now move over.”

  I wouldn’t call it flirting, these presumptuous words we exchange. It’s just the way we’ve come to interact with each other. I was shocked the first time Jill said something to me I considered untoward—during our first lesson together, when she alluded to the various benefits of possessing long, strong fingers—but I soon learned it’s all part of her liberal, free-thinking teaching methods.

  Jill is not your typical piano teacher. Her posture is regal and could imply her being stern, but when she smiles, and the skin around her eyes crinkles, I always only see warmth. It’s not the first time I’ve been invited to hers and Charlotte’s living room either. A cozy den with pictures of Charlotte, her body all sinew and muscle, at the height of her career, flanked by one single picture of Jill playing at Carnegie Hall. Together, they make a striking silver-haired couple.

  Jill positions her fingers where mine were earlier, and delivers a deeply emotional, slightly show-off-y rendition of “Für Elise”.

  As always, I’m enthralled by the swift grace of her fingers on the keys. By the sweeping, wide way with which they lift and land.

  When she’s finished, while I’m still catching my breath, she turns to me, a bit of a smile on her face, and says, “That’s how it’s done, Ruby. At your service.”

  Ostentatiously, I clap for her, and she gives me a tiny bow.

  “Come on,” she gets up from the bench. “Your lesson’s over for today. But don’t come back here until you’ve practiced that into perfection.” She straightens the crisp white blouse she always—always—wears for teaching. “I’ll pay you back the five minutes you have left of your class today with a glass of truly exceptional gin.”

  “Hey, I’m not complaining.” I always think that just being around Jill Banks, just being near her and breathing the same air she does, already makes me a better pianist.

  She heads to the door of the practice room and holds it open for me. I grab my affairs and quickly follow her, after which she switches off the light and closes the door behind us.

  “Char,” Jill shouts as soon as we’ve climbed the stairs. “I hope you’re decent because I’ve brought a guest.”

  Instantly, Charlotte appears in the living room.

  “Oh, what a treat. It’s the lovely Ruby.” She sends me a half-coy half-seductive smile.

  “Told you,” Jill says. “I’m sure Charlotte will make you feel very welcome while I fix us some drinks. Hendricks for you, babe?” Jill quickly kisses Charlotte on the cheek. I’ve heard them call each other babe before. It astounded me then, and it still does now.

  “Come on, dear.” While Jill’s teaching methods definitely have a flirty edge, it’s not the same kind of boisterous, out-in-the-open style of flirting Charlotte applies. When Jill injects some innuendo in what she says, my mind—apart, perhaps, from that very first time—doesn’t even go there. When Charlotte, like now, invades my personal space, and her perfume wafts up my nostrils, the vibe is totally different. She puts a hand on the small of my back and coaxes me toward the couch. I don’t object. Quite the contrary. I never was one to reject the obvious admiration of another lady, and certainly not of a class act like Charlotte. Also, given the emotional state I’m in, I more than welcome the lavish attention bestowed on me.

  “I take it you still need cheering up?” Amber dumped me on a Friday night and, after I called Jill to cancel my weekly Saturday afternoon class, she sussed me out and told me to come over anyway. I sat sobbing in this very couch for hours, trying to make sense of it all.

  “Please don’t tell me there are plenty more fish in the sea.” I say it with a half-smile pulling at my lips. What if, one day, I decide to flirt back? The thought flits through my brain the way a neon sign pulses. On. Off. On. Off.

  “Well, it depends what you’re looking for, Ruby, really.” Charlotte slings one leg over the other. She was always tall for a ballerina, but it never impacted her grace. She’s dressed in hip-hug
ging jeans and a loose shirt and still manages to ooze elegance. “If you’re looking to take your mind off things, I’m sure I can help.”

  I give a chuckle. “Oh yeah?” I challenge. “And how would you do that?”

  Charlotte hitches up her eyebrows, visibly surprised by my come back. I’m usually much more demure. Perhaps I am starting to get over Amber. “Well, you know, Jill and I are here for you, of course.” She tilts her head to the left a fraction, baring the still taut muscles of her neck. “In more ways than one.”

  “But what does that mean, Charlotte?” I play along. “Can you be a bit more specific, please?”

  She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “I can if you let me.” She shuffles closer, and lets her hand hover over my knee. We both eye it simultaneously, as though it’s a foreign object that may well decide our future.

  When I find her gaze again, apparently the look in my eyes is enough encouragement for her. Slowly, her hand lands on my knee. Just then, Jill walks in carrying a tray with three glasses.

  Charlotte doesn’t retract her hand. It stays there as we both watch how Jill deposits the tray and stands taking in the scene in silence for a moment.

  “Well,” Jill says, in her teacher voice. “Glad we’ve gotten that far.”

  I don’t consider myself particularly naive, but I didn’t really see that one coming. The atmosphere is quickly changing from playful to charged.

  When Charlotte shifts her body to take reception of the gin and tonic her partner is holding out to her, her hand slips off my knee, but is quickly replaced by her other.

  “Thanks, babe,” she says, exchanging a knowing glance with Jill.

  As I take my drink from Jill, Charlotte’s hand still firmly planted on my knee—even gripping a bit now—as a clear declaration of intent, I wonder if I should address this or just go with the flow.

  Jill sits down in the one-seater on the other side of the coffee table. At least I’ve spent enough time with her to know she won’t give me a straight answer.