Lessons In Love Part 4

I traced my fingers up her leg from her ankle to her knee and back down again. On the next trip up, my gaze kept traveling north until I reached her crotch. Angie made a sound like purring and s.h.i.+fted again, her thighs parting further. A wet patch glistened in the island of blue. I tugged the heel of her foot hard against my c.l.i.t. I was so stiff it hurt, but perversely, I welcomed the pain. It always took a hard workout to get me off.

"Where are you now?" I was breathing fast, and from the way the book rose and fell on the crest of Angie's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, so was she.

"She's sucking her off," Angie murmured. "Jesus, right there in the bar."

The pale blue covering her s.e.x had darkened, soaked through, and the round prominence of her c.l.i.t pushed out against the fabric. I imagined I could see it twitching in time to my own.

"She's gonna make her lose it," I whispered, "if she keeps that up.

Make her come right there."

"Oh, that's nice," Angie crooned plaintively, dropping one hand to her thigh. Her legs trembled as she fitfully brushed her fingers up and down the silvery skin high inside one leg. The backs of her fingers swept over the blue satin. Her hips lifted. Fell. Lifted again. She pressed her fingertips to the swelling beneath the s.h.i.+ny triangle.

"Oh!" Angie blurted. "She's getting her off." She gripped her c.l.i.t between fingers and thumb and twisted in quick, spastic little jerks. The book shook in her grasp and her splayed legs stiffened along the inside of mine.

"Touch inside," I urged, rubbing my pounding c.l.i.t against Angie's heel.

"I'll come," Angie whined, cupping herself and squeezing until the tendons stood out on her hand, tight bands of desperate desire.

"Don't you want to?"

"Oh yes." Her voice was high, strained.

"Do it." I ground into her foot, riding her high.

She shoved the swatch of wet fabric aside, her fingers swirling madly over gleaming ruby flesh.

"So good," she moaned. The book fell to the floor. She skimmed her free hand under her sweater and palmed her breast. My breath fled.

"Unh. Unh." Angie's wrist was a blur of motion, her belly tense, body writhing. ''Good. Good. Coming so hard." She jerked upright, her eyes blind, then tumbled back with a wail.

I clutched her foot and clamped my legs tight. The room spun as I chanted, "Oh yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah."

"Ooh, jeez," Angie panted after a minute, languorously caressing between her thighs, petting her c.l.i.t tenderly. She opened her eyes, raised her head enough to see me. Her face was soft, dreamy. Her smile sated.

"That was amazing."

The muscles in my thighs trembled at the speed of hummingbird wings. My c.l.i.t jumped against the sole of her foot as if struggling to escape. I took a deep breath, the first one in what felt like an hour. The muscles in my stomach were so tight with frustrated arousal I could hardly talk. But I grinned. "Outrageous."

"That was a really hot story," Angie sighed.

"Told you," I murmured, eyes glued to her fingers as she continued to play with herself, lazy and content. Her juices glistened on her fingers.

Unconsciously, I palmed her foot and rubbed my aching s.e.x against it.

"It was even better with you watching me read it."

I twitched all over.

"We didn't talk about what would happen if you won," she murmured.

I tore my gaze away from her fingers working in her crotch long enough to glance at her face. She was looking down between my legs. I wanted to come so bad. She pulled her foot back, and I whimpered.

"I think," she said musingly, milking her c.l.i.t a little faster now, "I think I want another story."

"Angie," I groaned.

"But," she tilted her foot forward and nuzzled her toes against my c.l.i.t, ''this time I want you to read it to me."

Smiling wickedly, she scooped up the book and held it out to me.

Her toes danced and teased unmercifully. "And no reading ahead."

A GOOD BUTCH IS HARD TO FIND.

CRIN CLAXTON.

tanding up at Alexandra Palace with all of London falling away before me, I could breathe again. The tall, blinking S silhouettes at Canary Wharf, the red lights of the Post Office Tower and the dotted lights of buildings stretched away in white and gold lines. The sky was purple with light spilling upward, and high above were sparklingly clear stars. I fixed on an intensely bright one and thought maybe I should wish on it. There's a song about that. There's also one about catching a falling star and putting it in your pocket but that's just dangerous. I decided to wish for a femme to love me: instantly I thought of my ex, currently lying on a beach in Cuba with the double-glazing sales butch she'd run off with.

I said to the star: Send me someone I can laugh with, someone I can talk to. That was the thing with my ex. She was so easy to talk to in the beginning. The star twinkled at me, s.h.i.+ning and fading and s.h.i.+ning, and seemed to move...nearer...getting bigger and brighter until I had to screw my eyes up against the intense white hum of its light.

I opened my eyes to find myself standing on the steps of a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p. Ahead of me in a huge doorway there was a silhouette of something with a human body and a huge head. As I stared, an eerie and not unflattering pale pink light faded up on the woman, who actually had a normal human-sized head but the biggest beehive I'd ever seen. Behind her three other women were singing and dancing, all doing the same movement, like a '60s Motown backup group. All three women also had enormous hair.

"Wouldn't you like to come in?"

The woman in the doorway had a very persuasive voice; she curled her index finger, beckoning me in. I took a step up and then hesitated.

"Oh, don't be scared," the doorway woman said in a voice of honey. She reminded me of a panther. "You can't stay there all night."

She said, "Come on." She beckoned and I felt my body start to move forward. I looked behind me. I quickly turned back. The Earth was a long, long way down, and there weren't any steps beneath me.

"Come inside now, you'll get cold," Panther-Woman suggested firmly, linking my arm and gracefully ushering me into the s.h.i.+p.

Inside was a huge, light, white room. There were seating areas with sofas built into the environment on different levels. There were swathes of material falling from the ceiling and draped here and there.

The lighting was soft and diffused in the seating areas and brighter in the central area where the Motown women were still singing.

I heard a shooosh and noticed lift doors opening two levels up.

Three women got out, all in s.h.i.+ny, tight-fitting s.p.a.ce suits. One of the women was using some kind of machine-a kind of wheelchair, I suppose, but much lighter than anything I'd seen before. It glided along.

She looked stunning; in fact, she was gorgeous. I realized I was staring and went to turn away, but she held my gaze.

Panther-Woman had walked me to the center and the room was starting to fill up. I turned around, surveying the room, feeling the stares from all directions. I was obviously a curiosity. Maybe they'd never seen a human before. It was a weird feeling. I couldn't see any guys. They all looked like women. In fact, I couldn't see any butches. I couldn't even see any andro-d.y.k.es. All the women, and there must have been over a hundred, all of them looked like femmes. My knees went weak. Panther- Woman grabbed my arm. "Are you all right, honey?" she asked.

I managed to nod.

I tentatively looked around the room again. This time I felt the stares more intensely. Sweat was breaking out all over my body. I know a femme when I see one, and I was looking at over a hundred. I must have died and gone to heaven. I felt a moment of sadness for my former life, but it really didn't seem to matter very much.

Panther-Woman raised her hands and the music stopped. "Sisters, we have a guest from planet Earth. Please say h.e.l.lo to our new friend Joe."

There was a general murmur, which I think was approximately a hundred femmes saying, "Hi, Joe."

"How d'you know my name?" I asked Panther-Woman, but she just smiled an enigmatic and highly irritating smile.

"Now, I know many of my Sisters would like to meet you personally, and they will," she told me. "But first, I'd like you to come with me to the science quarters."

I didn't like the sound of that. I suddenly remembered I was on a s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p with, well, they must be aliens. I stopped dead as I realized they were...FEMMES FROM ANOTHER PLANET.

''Oh baby, you're such a worrier." Panther-Woman told me, stroking my face. "Come on, follow me,"

She started walking in front of me. Something about the way her b.u.t.tocks moved in her skintight trousers made my feet start moving, and soon they were following along behind her like an obedient puppy. I would have slowed my feet, for my pride's sake, but I was working really hard on stopping my tongue hanging out. I thought perhaps these alien femmes might have special powers, and were in fact slowly turning me into a dog. Panther-Woman giggled to herself in front of me.

These girls sure were strange ones.

We walked down long corridors. After a while, even though her bottom was very exciting, I tore my eyes away to look at my surroundings. There were screens at intervals, computers maybe, or moving art. Every door we pa.s.sed was closed. Occasionally a woman walked with or past us. They mostly had a good stare at me. Like Panther-Woman and the Motown performers, like all the women in the reception room and the corridors, they all had huge hair. It didn't matter whether the women were black, brown, or white, whether their hair was long or short. It was all enormous. I wondered if the butches, who must be working somewhere in the background, had no hair, as a contrast. Or maybe they had big hair too, huge DAs or something. That was a frightening thought. I briefly considered the possibility that there were men around somewhere, but I dismissed it quite quickly. The femme energy on the s.h.i.+p was rife. I wondered where the butches were.

"Are there any other people on the s.h.i.+p?" I asked Panther- Woman's bottom.

She stopped and turned, and I lifted my eyes to her face.

"Yes, a few Sisters are working elsewhere on the essential functions. Unfortunately they couldn't come and meet you. They'll get their chance later," she promised me.

"Sisters?" I asked. "Are they...like you?"

She looked confused.

"Are they feminine?"

"Oh yes," she confirmed, looking at me intensely. "Every Sister is feminine."

"Are there any...Brothers?"

She paused before answering. "There will be."

Well, thanks for clearing that up, I thought sarcastically. She smiled a secret smile to herself as we walked along. I might have tried to get more out of her but we reached a door. It opened when we stood in front of it and I followed Panther-Woman into a lounge area.

''This is Carmilla." PW gestured with her arm.

This certainly is Carmilla, I said inside my head, staring at the brown, raven-haired beauty before me. She was the woman who had held my gaze from the balcony.

"h.e.l.lo, Joe." Wind chimes went off when she spoke; wind chimes blowing in the softest, sweetest breeze.

"Carmilla is our science officer," PW told me.

"How wonderful." Who knew what I was saying? I didn't. They didn't seem to care much. PW looked highly amused. Carmilla was smiling sweetly and patting the edge of a couch near her.

"Why don't you have a lie-down and let me have a little look at you?"

I couldn't think of any reason why not to. Soon I was flat out and staring into her intensely brown eyes. She winked.

''Now relax. I just want to find out a few things about you. If you feel uncomfortable at any time, just say."

How sweet, I thought. I felt like giggling. It was all so bizarre. I was convinced they must have drugged me. I felt light-headed and weird. Maybe it had been in the water they gave me, or their fingertips.

Some of the women had touched me, Panther-Woman for one.

"Unfortunately, I have to return," she told Carmilla. "I think you'll be safe."

What did she mean? She obviously meant Carmilla. Well, of course Carmilla would be safe. What about me?

"You'll be fine, sweet...butch." Panther-Woman bent and kissed me. The way she said butch sounded like a purr. I liked it.

I thought if they did have a drug you could pa.s.s in your fingertips, and it felt this good, I could make an awful lot of money selling it to lesbians.

I felt Carmilla touch my arm. "I just want to get some initial measurements. I'm going to run this instrument over your body."

I knew she was aware of how that sounded, but she looked very professional as she swept a little computer pad over me.

"Hmm," she said, sounding like all doctor-type people sound when they say hmm. It's supposed to sound noncommittal, but it always makes you worry.

"Why don't you put this on, Joe." She was holding out a visor.

Cool, computer games. I took it and put it on.

Suddenly I was lying on a beach. I heard the waves. I smelt the sea. I took the visor off. I was back in the room, and Carmilla was still there beside me.

"It's okay."

"Is it a virtual reality thing?" I asked.

"Um...sort of. I promise it won't hurt you."

I considered that. I didn't feel she would harm me. Sometimes a butch just has to go on instinct. I put the visor back on.

Creamy foaming waves rolled along a long, white, sandy beach. It was very hot. There was a slight breeze flowing over me. I felt good, relaxed. The sky was pure blue, completely cloudless, and it went on forever. I turned toward the sun, which was a reddy-purple. I looked away, thinking that was strange. When I looked back it was its normal white-gold colour. I felt a shadow over me and turned to look up at a beautiful, tantalizing femme.

"I was wondering if you could help me."

I sat up slightly, noticing I was wearing swimming trunks and nothing else. Funny, I hadn't noticed that before. It's okay, I told myself.

It's okay you're topless. And a strange woman's looking at you.

"How can I help you?" I blurted out.

"I need to put some sun cream on," she said. "And there are several places I can't reach."

"Oh." I saw the sun cream in her hand for the first time. "Of course." I got up and gestured to her to lie down on my large and attractive beach towel. I've got good taste, I thought.