Love Isn't as Easy as the Books

Part 8

 Before Becky knew it, her thong was gone, and Freen was giving her all sorts of oral pleasure. A few flicks of Freen's tongue across Becky's eager clit, had the tan woman shaking in pleasure, one hand clenching the bed spread.

The giver was relishing in the heavenly taste of the woman below her. She continued to explore with her tongue making mental notes as to where to go to make Becky whimper, where to make her moan, and where to make her shudder.

Just when Becky felt it couldn't get any better, because to be perfectly honest, she wasn't sure how she hadn't orgasmed like six times already, she felt Freen slip a single finger inside her and so efficiently elicit a, "Oh holy shit Freen. Yes. Yes. Oh keep going for the love of goooooood."

Freen smiled briefly as she slowed her pace just a little to bring Becky down slightly, and then suddenly increasing her pace, her finger curling just slightly to hit that spot and her tongue rapidly hitting all those little places that drove Becky wild.

Becky's hands went to the back of Freen's head, desperately trying to keep her in position (as if something of this world could possibly tear her away). Becky came in spectacular fashion, crying Freen's name and arching her back enough to give Freen a wonderful view of her tits.

As she came down, Freen bit Becky's inner thigh one more time and got her to twitch in the aftershocks of pleasure. She wiped her mouth clean as she moved up Becky' pristine body, but left her finger slightly caressing her sex.

Every so often Becky would shudder as Freen touched a sensitive spot.

"Holy shit," Becky sighed as she tried to catch her breath. "Thank you for that."

Freen smiled a wicked grin as she brought up her finger, "It was my pleasure." She licked her finger clean. "You taste like heaven."

Becky pulled her in for a deep kiss because that was the only response her brain could formulate for something so attractive.

"My turn," Becky said. "I want to know how you taste."

"The all you can eat buffet is open," Freen responded.

Becky kissed her before saying, "And you say I'm the dork?"

Freen just nodded once as Becky's lips pressed into her neck. She wondered, perhaps feared, Becky's sensuous lips could feel her breakneck pulse, taste just how bad she wanted this, how bad she wanted it to be something more than it might appear to be.

She leaned into each kiss, just a little, especially once Becky hit that little spot right where her neck met her shoulder.

Becky marveled at the pale woman's breasts. They might have been slightly smaller than hers, but Becky adored them just as much and gave them just as much attention.

She used less teeth than Freen, and her tongue more. She trailed it down Freen's cleavage, as her hands trailed those perfect sides and caressed silky legs.

More than a few times Becky was diverted from her attempts to kiss every inch of Freen's perfectly flawed skin (those cute little moles, the little scars, stretch marks on her thighs, each of them a perfect little imperfection) by a forceful pair of hands pulling her up into desperate, needy kisses.

Eventually Becky got to Freen's legs, she pulled off the last remaining piece of clothing between the two. She marveled at the sight, the most beautiful woman she's ever laid eyes on was laying completely naked before her, looking at her with the combination of lust, need, want, admiration, and reverence in the most lovely shade of green that made Becky never wanted to be anywhere else.

She kissed and licked her way up each leg with a deliberate, enticing, slowness. Freen was practically begging for in hushed, throaty cries of, "Becky, please..."

Each second of teasing bliss, of ecstasy and pleasure that never quite took Becky over the edge when Freen was giving, Becky repaid in kind.

She licked her in slow, broad strokes, then in quick little movements that gave Freen shudders and brought out moans of her name.

"Becky don't stop. Don't you ever dare stop."

She didn't. She wouldn't. For a moment, the pair both had the same thought as Freen's fingers interlaced with Becky's as she pushed her over the edge, they both thought about doing this for days, for months, for years, for lifetimes. And that thought, in its coital flash, disappeared from their conscious minds, but the nebulous, undefined feeling remained.

Freen pulled Becky back up, wrapped her arms and legs around her, and kissed her like she would die if they ever lost contact.

At some point they cuddled beneath the blankets together. They were drifting off to sleep together, arms and legs and hair intertwined.

Becky got up once, and only once, to use the bathroom, and from beneath the blankets came the saddest sounding voice she'd ever head, "Come back to me."

With a promise she'd be back, Becky knew that she couldn't ever resist that voice, abandon that woman like that, any thoughts of leaving in the night or even in the morning were extinguished.