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Panting Blue

Note: This is pure sex, there is no plot or dialogue. If this is not your thing, don't continue reading.

___

Panting blue-eyed beauty rests her head on a snow white pillow, stifling the cries that seek to escape through her moist parted lips. Below her on the bed, between her spread legs, her lover struggles to undermine her will, manipulating her body with quick flicks and lingering strokes of her tongue. She gasps a quick inhalation of air to by herself some time, but it's no good, she can only hold her breath for so long. A soft, shuddering moan escapes with the air from her lungs. This is the cue her partner had been waiting for all evening, her notice to re-excerpt herself and devote her entire being to the task of making her lover come.

They shift, the blonde moving so that her head touches the headboard, her feet extending in front of her to form a "v", allowing her brunette lover to crawl in close. She takes the blonde's foot in her hands, massaging it gently, affectionately. She moans her approval, closing her eyes and then opening them to stare at the ceiling once more. The brunette takes the big toe into her mouth, sucking on it, moving her tongue over it - showing her deepest affections for her lover by submitting herself fully to her body. Not wanting to keep her needy partner waiting, the brunette moves up slowly: trailing kisses up the inside of her right leg, leaving wet and sticky reminders of her love behind her.

She stops when she reaches the blonde's inner thigh, but not before running her tongue teasingly over the pale flesh, already slick with her desire. The blonde raises herself, leaning on an elbow to look at her lover - voracious desire mixed with pure love swirling around in her baby blue eyes. A shudder runs through the brunette, a reaction to this display of emotion so pure and childlike, starting in the top of her head and ending in the tips of her toes. "I love you," she says, but her words choke up and become unintelligible. Their gazes lock, the blonde spreading her legs and parting her lips further, as if to say: I know, its okay, I understand - I love you too.

The brunette moves up as the blonde slides down; they're hovering over each other, breasts nearly touching, lips inches apart, each woman staring into the other's eyes - seeking to inhabit the other's soul. An electric connection builds, resistance fades, and they kiss. The blonde pushes her tongue into her lover's mouth, exploring an all too familiar, yet strangely enchanting space; her hands caressing the tops of her shoulders. Their noses press together in Eskimo affection; the brunette tilts her head, allowing the blonde to take her luscious lower lip between her teeth, tugging it teasingly. Each girl closes her eyes and imagines sharing the life of the other, physically feeling the love flow between the tentative link provided by their joined mouths.

The brunette breaks away reluctantly, her displeasure voiced with the briefest of sighs, which is cut off as her lips connect with the underside of the blonde's jaw. Once more she works her way down, following the curvature of her jaw down her neck, to the space between her breasts. Her tongue traces the flowing, graceful upturned swelling of her right breast, before working in circles around an erect pink nipple. The blonde arches her back involuntarily, whimpering her need into the dark, silent bedroom. Her lover is happy to oblige, taking it into her mouth and suckling like a baby whilst massaging the flesh of her breasts. She feels her lover's arms encircle her, caressing the flesh of her back, her shoulder blades, and running through her silky and inviting hair.

This encourages her onwards, leaving one erogenous zone in favour for another. Tasting the salty sweat of the blonde, she traces the natural line down the centre of her body, around her belly button and then onto her navel, where she places repeated kisses that are almost raspberries. Her hands follow the trail left behind by her mouth, caressing all the same spots, like a scanner attempting to get the whole image - a fourth dimensional picture of her love. But this slow, teasing pace is not enough - both their bodies are seeking absolution; so, driven by the slickness between her own legs, the brunette's tongue finally finds the magic spot.

Using her slender fingers she spreads her lover's sex, exposing the core of her womanhood; when her tongue meets the tiny little bundle of nerves, the blonde's whole body quavers, her legs wrapping around the brunette's back, drawing her in. Exhilarated, the brunette continues flicking her tongue over the blonde's clit, enjoying the reactions she gets - finding something of herself in her lover is something that she enjoys every time -, the moans, the shuddering, and the panting. She slides a finger into the cleft of her lover's sex, then a second, seeking out her deepest recesses, finding their passage easier than she expected. Regardless of her own need the brunette continues to pleasure her lover, driving her through increasingly stormy seas of pleasure, pushing her to the very limit of her tolerance and then stepping back to study the results of what she's doing:

Lovely blonde hair is plastered to her sweaty forehead, her skin a beautiful shade of flushed red - so vibrant and alive that it makes the brunette momentarily jealous, wishing her own honey-brown Mediterranean tone would change colour so easily; skin aside, it is the expression of need that persuades the brunette to continue much better than any words of hers ever could: her face is locked in that horrifyingly intensely emotional state between bliss and agony; a Ludovicoan wave of nausea-tinged ecstasy passes over her, leaving her at once craving her own release and the release of her lover. She renews her efforts.

Three fingers slide into the slick velvet interior of her lover's cunt; she continually kisses her clit, causing the blonde to scream her delight -- much to the amusement of the women's neighbours. This marks a turning point for them both: the brunette begins to finger her wet, needy cunt, and the blonde begins to slip into the abyss of her first climax. It becomes a race: who can come first.

The blonde wins easily: "ah..ah..ah..ah..ah..oh god," explodes from her lips as she closes her eyes and surrenders fully to the joys of her lovers stimulations. The brunette can feel a warmth building inside of her, like a drug filled condom waiting to burst; intensifying her efforts, she feels herself slip past the barrier between bliss and heaven, bursting the condom in one quick thrust of her fingers.

Not once does she stop fucking the blonde. They both tense up and release at the same time -- brunette's first and blonde's second -, shuddering in orgasmic bliss: pent up pleasure released in a tidal wave of frenetic energy, made visible by pained expressions and wet explosions; the brunette felt her mouth filled with the gushing sexual fluids of her lover, greedily tasting the sweet taste of her lover's bliss as she wallowed in her own.

But it was over almost as quick as it started: they both plummet back to earth with a sigh that happens to coincide with the heater roaring to life. The brunette climbs back into bed beside the blonde and snuggles close. They hold each other in their arms, each enjoying the other's warmth. The air smells of sex and sweat and love.

Yes, love has a smell.

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