Pixie Pt. 01 Ch. 15: Loving

It was delicious having an afternoon off work, and to be able to spend it with my fiancée, Sarah, was very heaven.

Generous soul that she was, Sarah insisted that as she had had an orgasm out in the sand dunes, I should have one back at the hotel. Being equally giving, I saw no reason to deprive her of that goal.

By the time we reached the hotel, it was gone four, and we would both need to be back on duty by six-thirty. The question of which room to use was answered by the fact that hers was on the ground floor, whilst mine was on the third; my chambermaids had had so little to do, I doubt they thought my room was occupied at all.

No sooner had Sarah swiped her card and put it in the slit to turn the lights on than she had her hands on quite a different, and wetter, slit; mine.

Her hands were up my skirt, her fingers in the waistband of my panties, pulling them down. She picked me up, which saw my panties fall away, and carried me to the bed. As she did so, I was removing my top, which exposed my tiny tits. She literally threw me onto the bed. That whole experience had my juices flowing. I loved feeling like a rag doll in the arms of my lover.

I unzipped my skirt and wriggled out of it, as Sarah stripped off her dress and lingerie. She was on me in a moment, the hunter taking its prey. My breasts are small, in truth almost non-existent, but my nipples are super-sensitive, and as she fastened her lips on them, one after the other, I gasped. My legs parted. She ground her mound against mine, pushing one leg under me so she could trib.

As our wetness conjoined, I felt a jolt go through me. Our clits were rubbing, and her lips were rubbing against mine. I grasped her breasts, kneading them, squeezing her nipples, trying to reciprocate what I was feeling with her tweaking and twisting mine.

The grinding and the pushing were such sweet pleasures. I could smell the scent of our arousal, and heard the squishing sounds as we made each other wetter. She kissed me, long, deep, passionately, as she pushed herself against my tight, wet little pussy. Her tongue pushed into my mouth, and I welcomed it, playing with hers, swallowing her saliva. I was lost in a haze of erotic longing.

So many of my lovers (which makes me sound like a slut, until I admit that we are talking about two women across five years) have wanted to use a strap-on, which cause me problems, but Sarah knew by instinct that what I needed was that woman on woman feel. Not the artificial hardness of the toy-maker's art, but the soft, succulent folds of my lover's pussy, grinding into mine. As our juices mingled, I began to lose it, concentrating on her thick, swollen nipples in the hope of edging my orgasm.

But Sarah was in a determined mood. Psyched and sexed up by what we had witnessed in the dunes, where my friend Emm had been used by her Mistress and her friends, Sarah's urgency fired my own desires. Long, slow, sweet and sensual, was my usual style, but there was a feral longing in her kisses and grinding, which set my own desire alight.

It burned with a bright flame, hot, all-consuming.

Knowing my darling wanted me this badly set my own desire aflame. Gripping her nipples, I bent, sucking and biting them. She did the same to me. In this passionate conjoining of bodies there was none of our usual playful prolonging of our sexual desires. This was love. But it was also fucking. She wanted to devour me, and I wanted to be hers, devoured, caressed, loved, fucked and taken to the highest height of pleasure.

'Fuck, Pixie, I can't hold back, I want you, you gorgeous little tart, I want, want, fuck, I want you.'

Her voice began to trail away into a scream, and as it did my own orgasm began to erupt. I was lost, shouting, gushing, screaming, as she did the same, and the afternoon exploded into the most intense orgasm I had ever had. We fell back in orgasmic bliss, holding each other, shaking, and looking with longing and amazement.

'Sarah, that was ...'

Words failed me, something which seldom happened. There were none that could justice to what had just happened. But the look she gave me spoke volumes. She was eating me with her gaze, as I was with mine.

'Yes, Pixie, MY, Pixie, who needs words?'

As I lay in her arms, I needed neither words not thoughts. I was all sensation. It was as though layers of skin had vanished, and I lay naked, exposed and wholly open to her; as she did to me. We were one. Marriage would add the words, but this love was rooted in what could be felt but never articulated, except obliquely.

We lay a while. We dozed. We loved. We kissed. We were one.

The phone went.

It was Sarah's thirty-minute warning. She needed to be at the studio for the last night of the Concert, which meant I would need to be there too to ensure everything was on track.

She hugged me. No words were needed. I watched as she showered, her beautiful breasts lathered and cleaned, and I joined to clean her more intimate parts. We kissed. She cleaned me up too, feeling my arousal when she washed my tiny tits. But we knew we had to be good.

We towelled down, dried each other, and she put her little black dress on. She looked serene.

Bless her, she came back with me, and I quickly put my own little black dress on, finding some clean panties and sandals. I looked like a midget who had dressed in a hurry.

We got there just in time.

As we did, we saw, coming through the other door, a blonde woman in a diamanté collar, fuck-me shoes and a dress which revealed almost as much as it concealed. It was Emm, and with her were Anne, Emily and the blonde woman we had seen in the dunes.

Sarah needed to dash, but I had a moment to spare.

'Hi, Pixie, I have a plug up my ass and Ben Wa balls inserted. This is Miss Zoë. Will you and Sarah join us later, as I need to be used? Was that the offer we could not refuse, or would Sarah object? We would see.