llust nine

This is an episode of llust, a present-day erotic fantasy. To start at the beginning, visit the home page.

They were kissing before they knew it, before even a word was spoken.

Perhaps there were no words to say. Whether she had come to the airport to beg Rachel to stay, or for a final farewell before she left forever, did not seem to matter much. She was there, suddenly, out of nowhere; and Rachel had fallen instantly into the depths of her eyes, so vibrantly rich after four lifeless days in Los Angeles. And then their lips were together as though they had never been apart, could never be parted again.

And now Rachel’s uniform was scattered and crumpled on the dusty floor; she was held in embrace from behind by white linen-sleeved forearms almost vertical between her breasts; lips and lingering tongue were fiery upon her shoulder; and life had returned.

‘Susan,’ she breathed; just savouring the syllables: so mundane, so evocative. ‘Hold me,’ she finished, and saw her own hands clasp at Susan’s, pressing them into her chest, while her body leaned into them. Her head was slumped forward, her tight-plaited straw-blonde hair guided over her shoulder to rest on the out-thrust of her breast, raised forward by the arm tucked around her side beneath it.

How she had longed for this, those empty, empty nights. By day, she had frowned at the recollection of Susan’s bizarre lustful but loveless world, while she dawdled blankly through Hollywood tourist attractions. But lying sleepless in the cricket-filled night air from a wide-open motel balcony door, she could only remember the warmth of Susan’s naked body. Sometimes it was still, just a formless press of crushing beauty in her imagination. But otherwise it would move against her; she would be touched, by evanescent skin, and hair, and wetness; and she would whimper or moan as at first she rolled away to escape, and then inevitably let the fantasy play out, in her mind and over her body.

And then sometimes, she would remember herself, her real self, that she had only known for a few days. She would leap into the mind of the siren that touched her, and know that she herself was beautiful. And then, the touches would be real, the heat, and finally, the drawn-out breathless ecstasy. Oh, so real.

So now, Rachel thought nothing of it as one of her own hands slipped away from Susan’s, and gently cupped the languorous hang of her own breast. Susan’s affections on her shoulder and neck were the bright metal catalyst of lust, and she allowed the sensation to fold easily inward, her own hands guiding it, and building upon it. While one palm explored the soft skin of her abdomen, the other calmly but suggestively held her breast, lifting, squeezing ever so slightly; and her eyes dwelt on it, detached, while a deep, deep part of her blossomed with colour and heat.

‘Yes,’ whispered Susan, her breath sliding, tingling, over Rachel’s skin. ‘I want to hold you. I want you to have me.’ Her tongue touched down again onto the stretched side of Rachel’s neck, followed by the ardent points of her teeth. Rachel groaned longingly; her hands dragging in either direction until she was embracing herself around Susan’s arms. Her loins were heavy and slick, urgent and clamouring; but she could not depart this moment, and she held onto it jealously.

Susan kissed her jaw, the lobe of her ear. ‘Have me,’ she breathed. ‘Have me, now.’

Rachel smiled, and lifted her head to meet Susan’s lips; and her arms and body slowly unwound. She felt Susan’s fingertips draw across her skin as she turned, then they were rising, until they gently cupped her chin; but her own hands hung, undecided, at her sides. Their tongues were intertwining hungrily, regardless of the coming and going of their lips; and Rachel pressed forward, following as Susan backed a step to lean against the wall. She moaned again, a low, inhuman sound, as the kiss came to an end, and they watched each other’s eyes, nose to nose.

One of Susan’s hands had found Rachel’s, and was guiding it, not onto some part of Susan’s still-clothed body, but down and inward. ‘Have me,’ she repeated, huskily, ‘just the way you want.’

Rachel’s next breath dragged against her vocal chords, while her eyes closed and she kissed forward, desperately. Her fingers had already found herself, and were massaging powerfully, seemingly without her volition. Susan’s fingertips lingered over them for a second, then, their goal assured, drew away.

Rachel could feel her whole body shaking as she plunged into her own need, sinking deep, her fingers clutching frantically, spasmodically. Just the feel of Susan’s lips, just her very presence, was enough, more than enough. She was gasping. Before long, she could not even maintain the kiss, and then it was just her nakedness, Susan’s beauty, and her own hand.

She was too far gone to even be aware that Susan had gently taken hold of her wrist; was adjusting her brutal, fitful rubbing into a building rhythm. Susan was smiling, and her face was Rachel’s world: her sculpted lips and cheekbones, her regal nose, the startling glow of her deep, deep eyes. Her other hand had risen to gently hold and quell the shuddering of Rachel’s breast, and the touch was so simple, yet so exquisitely erotic.

Rachel distinctly felt her clitoris tip into the start of its inexorable slide to ecstasy, and even if some part of her wanted to savour the moment, there was now no halting the crescendo that was pulsing outward into her body, that would lead, so soon, to the inevitable. She was crying out now, trying to maintain eye contact with Susan even while her lids wanted to shut in the growing, glowing energy.

‘Yes,’ encouraged Susan softly. ‘You have me. All of me.’

Rachel’s palm was thudding against her pubic mound as she responded to the immense need beneath the skin under her fingertips. And even though she knew herself so much better now: knew how to prolong her bliss, at this moment she did not wish to. She cannoned into her orgasm, full pelt, shouting Susan’s name as her lover laughed out loud in joy.

Even then, there was no stopping, no way of stopping. She pressed forward again, clamping her mouth once more onto Susan’s, thrusting her hands between Susan’s buttocks and the wall, to clutch and lift. And then, she was tearing the linen jacket from Susan’s shoulders, then breathlessly trying to focus on the buttons of the blouse beneath. Susan was still laughing, playfully refusing to help, even interfering by laying her hands onto parts of Rachel’s body, cupping or stroking or clutching. And Rachel began to giggle too, as she gave up and tore the remaining two buttons asunder with a grunt of satisfaction.

Again, their noses were just touching as Rachel undid the clasps on Susan’s brassiere; and suddenly, there was a stillness. They watched one another, breathing hard, a few remnants of laughter tickling their throats. Susan’s arms rested on Rachel’s shoulders, her own folded gracefully up against her long neck, as they took stock of each other.

‘I want to go with you,’ said Susan softly.

Rachel gazed at her. Unwelcome came the memory of Susan’s bizarre triangle of lust with Syn, the muscular biker, and Kim, the perfect nymph. Their unexplained antagonism, overlaid with seemingly endless, purposeless sex.

Rachel’s eyes fell, then quickly rose again. ‘You’ll need a ticket,’ she said; and although the playfulness was obviously forced, Susan smiled. She shook her head fractionally, lifted her arms, reached behind, and gently encouraged Rachel’s hands to draw away her bra.

As they both watched, her breasts softly came to rest against Rachel’s.

Rachel sighed at the sensation, juxtaposed against her sudden discomfiture; but she allowed Susan to guide her hands to the sides of the beautiful flesh, to hold and feel and build upon the sweetly erotic sight.

‘I love you,’ breathed Susan.

It was too much. Rachel felt her defences slamming into place. She wanted Susan’s sex, oh, how she wanted it. But it was poisoned. The decision was already made.

But before she could draw away, there was a sudden rattle from the door to the maintenance room they had invaded. They both jumped, even knowing that they had jammed it shut. But that moment had been careless, carried away as they were; and the intruder pushed away the barricade of workbench and buckets as if it were hardly there.

The brightness of the light from the corridor seemed to stun them into immobility, and a silhouette squeezed through, immediately familiar, but totally unexpected.

‘Naughty,’ said a teasing voice, a young voice: Kim’s voice. ‘You just can’t stop fucking, can you?’

Rachel gaped, her hands loose above elbows now self-consciously hugging her breasts. But Susan stepped forward protectively.

‘Back off, Kim,’ she said.

Kim nudged a fallen mop out of her way and stepped closer. ‘Aww,’ she said, pouting. ‘I just want to join the fun. I knew you’d come here, for a last fuck.’

Susan seemed to pause, even to sag. ‘This isn’t about fun,’ she protested.

‘I don’t know,’ said Kim, cocking a hip. ‘Sounded like fun. I want in.’

Susan seemed to struggle with something inside, her shoulders hunched, her head dropping. Rachel stared at her back, usually so straight and strong; and wondered at the change. But the next moment, she was stepping forward herself. ‘Kim,’ she said, her voice rising with spite. ‘Fuck off.’

Kim smiled humourlessly. ‘Make me,’ she spat. ‘Bitch.’

Something in her confidence made Rachel hesitate; but then fury was all that she knew, and she took another step, balling her fists.

But Susan’s hand was on her arm, staying her charge before it had begun. Rachel looked at her.

‘That’s right,’ said Kim triumphantly. ‘Susie doesn’t want us to fight.’ She chuckled. ‘She only wants us fucking. Bet you’re both wet and ready too.’

‘You can’t do this,’ said Susan softly, some of the fire back in her voice. But then, it cracked. ‘I love her.’

‘Sure,’ said Kim sarcastically. ‘You love this little slut, you love me; you love fucking everyone. You know that won’t make me come any more. You got to work harder than that with me. And you can’t take it back.’ She was right there, now, small in stature, but somehow crushing Susan down and back with every movement.

Rachel focussed on Susan. ‘What’s she saying?’ she pleaded quietly. ‘What does she mean?’

Susan raised her eyes to Rachel’s, and seemed to gain courage from her face. ‘I promised,’ said Susan. ‘I made a mistake. But I promised.’

Rachel touched her chin, ignoring Kim. ‘Promised what? Susan, what?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ said Kim. ‘I’ll tell her. She fucked me, while she was seeing Syn.’ Susan’s eyes closed with pain while Kim continued in a bored voice, ‘And I wasn’t the only one, was I Susie?’ She ducked her head teasingly, to catch Susan’s eyes. ‘Oh no. We had quite a time, behind Syn’s back.’ She grinned, shrugged airily. ‘Of course, Syn found out about some of the others. She was really fucked up. Tried to kill herself. She was only saved by her maid.’

Kim had her thumb on her own sternum, and nodded. ‘Uh-huh, me. She was a pretty high-flying bitch, back then. I found her in the tub. Bathing in her own blood. Totally gross.’

‘Wasn’t long after, she started sleeping around too; and naturally, I got some.’ She waved away Rachel’s appalled stare. ‘I never pretended I was in love,’ she stated flatly. ‘She knew what she was getting into, with me.’ Susan flinched at Kim’s barbed emphasis.

‘By then, she didn’t care if I was fucking Susan too. But if she ever found out that we were together before I saved her life… Susie offered me anything not to tell.’ Kim laughed cruelly. ‘Anything.’

So Susan had promised Kim a lifetime of sex, any time, anywhere. In return for silence. So Syn would never find out that her saviour, and the driving partner in her new promiscuous life, had also been an agent of her downfall. It was so ugly, so unfair, and yet, it explained everything. But something still did not stack up, and Rachel racked her brain, standing naked in the face of Kim’s self-assured grin, to see the flaw.

Kim was sashaying forward again, leading with a shoulder to cut between Susan and Rachel. ‘So,’ she drawled lustily. ‘What’s it to be, lover?’ She licked a finger, traced it around one of Susan’s bared nipples. ‘Can Syn rely on you now?’

Rachel saw red. ‘You…’ she began, as she swung. ‘You shit,’ she finished, as Kim smashed decisively into the shelves opposite, collapsing, the contents emptying painfully onto her crumpled form.

Then, Rachel knew.

Susan was staring at Kim, vulnerable in a way that Rachel could never have believed. And Rachel’s heart went out to her, and she grasped her shoulders, then pulled her in close.

‘It was a lie.’ It rushed from her. ‘It was a lie, a story. I’ve been with Syn.’ She disengaged the embrace, locked eyes with Susan while holding her, willing her to believe. ‘I’ve kissed every inch of her.

‘She has no scars.’

Susan seemed to be barely breathing; pale and distant. Rachel released one shoulder, shyly, tentatively raising her wrist up to Susan’s eyes. The line of paler skin was stark in the dim light of the room.

---

‘For goodness sake, go,’ said Rachel, waving both of her arms as though Susan’s hands, clasping hers, were the reins of a cart-horse. They stood at the security gate, a tide of passengers parting around them. ‘She might get to Syn first.’

Susan smiled warmly, and Rachel was relieved to see the usual confident maturity back in her expression. ‘I can’t take long enough over thanking you,’ she said. ‘Besides,’ — and now her smile went lopsided — ‘I have a Ferrari.’

Rachel laughed. ‘My girlfriend has a Ferrari,’ she sang, recalling another time when joy had overwhelmed her. ‘Well,’ she corrected, ‘my first girlfriend had one.’

Susan allowed her chuckle to subside, gazing into Rachel’s eyes. Finally, she mouthed the words again: ‘I love you.’

‘I know,’ said Rachel gently, with simple honesty. Then she grinned. ‘Let me know how you get on with Syn. I want to come visit you when you’re back together.’

Susan frowned, with a distant echo of her pain. ‘Who knows,’ she said. ‘I have to try. Thanks for convincing me of that.’

Rachel cranked the reins again. ‘Then get cracking!’ she snapped playfully. ‘I’ve got a plane to catch.’

They kissed, softly. Then Susan turned, and strode away.

Rachel stood for a moment with pattering heart, and a kind of simple, happy conviction. No matter her love for Rachel, it was clear that Susan had to heal the wounds of her past with Syn, first. For a moment Rachel wondered if she should wait. But then she chanced to glance at a pretty red-headed passenger striding past, by herself. Their eyes met, and for a moment, locked.

No, thought Rachel. Love had been waiting for her, all her life. It was time to go and claim it.