Morgana could only whine in response, buck into her hand, try to pull her fingers farther in. The pressure of the coarse denim on her clit and the opening to her cunt, the twisting certainty of fingers filling her up, the closeness of lips, the skin of her neck, the wild grass-stained smell of her, it all whisked together inside her, like the slow steady churn of a whirlpool molding her body, her senses, into one aching column of need.
Morgana was flying, skimming over the surface of the ocean, reaching down to trail her finger through the water, and turning back to watch its wake. Loosening every muscle of her body, she sped faster over the frothy waves, not wanting to dive down, not yet, not yet. The sky was huge above her, the music her air, the steady tramp of feet nearby the pulse of her blood.
The woman was panting hot, sweet air against her cheek, and Morgana gripped her hair and tugged her head to the side, so she could reach the salty smooth flesh of her neck. She licked up and down the tendon there, tasting the warm summer on her skin, messily trying to get inside her, under her skin.
And then the waves splashed up to pull her under, tightening everything inside her, holding her deep down where the pressure on her skin exploded, where the world floated by in slow motion.
Morgana stilled, came back, after having passed through worlds.
The woman above her pulled up, soothed Morgana’s hair over her forehead. “I’m Gwen,” she said simply and then with a stuttering exhale she fell off Morgana, so they lay side by side, and fisted her hand in the soaking fabric at the crotch of Morgana’s shorts.
“Morgana,” she replied when she was able to find her voice, hoarse and scratched. Then something warm, easy, and happy became unmoored inside her, and she laughed, long and low, from her belly. She turned her head to find Gwen’s face close, so close all she could see were smile lines and pores. Morgana kissed her, mouth sloppy, tongue lazy, as though she were full but still wanted to eat because it tasted so good.
After long minutes, Gwen glanced up and squinted. She pointed skywards, the sunlight catching on her glistening fingers. “Hey look, it’s a dragon in the clouds. That’s good luck,” she said softly with a grin.
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Re: while our blood's still young 3/3 (warnings for public sex, and possible drug use)
Date: 2011-09-05 11:53 pm (UTC)Morgana could only whine in response, buck into her hand, try to pull her fingers farther in. The pressure of the coarse denim on her clit and the opening to her cunt, the twisting certainty of fingers filling her up, the closeness of lips, the skin of her neck, the wild grass-stained smell of her, it all whisked together inside her, like the slow steady churn of a whirlpool molding her body, her senses, into one aching column of need.
Morgana was flying, skimming over the surface of the ocean, reaching down to trail her finger through the water, and turning back to watch its wake. Loosening every muscle of her body, she sped faster over the frothy waves, not wanting to dive down, not yet, not yet. The sky was huge above her, the music her air, the steady tramp of feet nearby the pulse of her blood.
The woman was panting hot, sweet air against her cheek, and Morgana gripped her hair and tugged her head to the side, so she could reach the salty smooth flesh of her neck. She licked up and down the tendon there, tasting the warm summer on her skin, messily trying to get inside her, under her skin.
And then the waves splashed up to pull her under, tightening everything inside her, holding her deep down where the pressure on her skin exploded, where the world floated by in slow motion.
Morgana stilled, came back, after having passed through worlds.
The woman above her pulled up, soothed Morgana’s hair over her forehead. “I’m Gwen,” she said simply and then with a stuttering exhale she fell off Morgana, so they lay side by side, and fisted her hand in the soaking fabric at the crotch of Morgana’s shorts.
“Morgana,” she replied when she was able to find her voice, hoarse and scratched. Then something warm, easy, and happy became unmoored inside her, and she laughed, long and low, from her belly. She turned her head to find Gwen’s face close, so close all she could see were smile lines and pores. Morgana kissed her, mouth sloppy, tongue lazy, as though she were full but still wanted to eat because it tasted so good.
After long minutes, Gwen glanced up and squinted. She pointed skywards, the sunlight catching on her glistening fingers. “Hey look, it’s a dragon in the clouds. That’s good luck,” she said softly with a grin.