The Weir Gate Pt. 02

I meant to clean myself up after the best orgasm of my life, but somehow kept coming back to kiss Annie, who fingered my wetness, which made me want to kiss her all the more. As I pulled away for my third attempt to wash my face, she looked at me:

"Suck my finger, Pixie."

Her gaze held me.

My heart skipped a beat, but I did it.

I could smell my own girl goo, and then I tasted it. Tangy, a little sharp. She held my eyes as I sucked.

"Fuck, that is the most erotic thing I have seen. You know I'm not letting you go, don't you?"

I nodded, still sucking, and mumbled:

"Good."

"Gawd, you are such a cute little thing. Now, my girl," she said, giving my arse a swift slap, "your mother awaits."

As if by magic, I finally went to the bathroom and washed my face.

Annie was dressed, a rather fetching red dress, mid-thigh length, setting off her stunning figure. She looked so gorgeous, and I really could not believe she felt about me as I felt about her.

"Well get dressed you little tart, if you stay naked I'll ravish you again, and your blessed mother will wonder what's become of you."

I took that as confirmation that she fancied me, despite my want of either boobs or curves.

"That dress suits you, your breasts are fantastic, so sexy. Love your legs too. And your tight arse."

"Well, being nude when I am dressed suits you, but get your knickers on and let's get out of here."

I giggled.

"Yes bossy boots."

"That's Miss Annie to you, young lady."

"Yes, Miss Annie," I giggled.

We kissed. We were joking, but not really joking, laying down some trails we could follow later, some foundations on which we might build. Even then we knew; but then we could not say; then we did not know how; then we were not us.

I dressed, thinking, looking at Annie, how beautiful she looked.

We wandered down the stairs.

"So," she said, "where did we meet?"

"At the weir just now," I replied, before checking myself. "Oh yes, I see. Well, in London, at a party, exchanged phone numbers and met up just now by chance," I replied, getting into the spirit of things.

"Good, in which case give me your number."

I did.

"See, you are learning well," she giggled.

We stepped out into the chill night air, our breath illuminated by the porch-light of the small hotel. The full moon hung low on the horizon, and the stars were beginning to shine in the black velvet of the night sky. As we took the pathway to the ancestral pile, I help Annie's hand, and she squeezed mine.

"So, apart from your mum being a homophobic religious bigot with a title, what's the deal? Do you still live at home? How old are you anyway, and what do you do? I'm twenty-nine and a nurse in what you would call accident and emergency."

"Gosh, no!" I replied hastily. "If I lived at home I'd be doing an Ophelia, and you could float on by me. I teach Literature at a University in London, where I have a flat. But I come home some weekends, and despite her infuriating habit of patronising me, I do love Ma."

As we entered the driveway the lights went on, and the shape of the house became apparent, with the lights shining out. I could make out my mother, looking out of the drawing-room window.

"Gawd, that is a pile," Annie giggled. "So, quick resume?"

"Ma inherited the place from her father, married my father, who was a brilliant German artist and the love of her life. He was the one really unconventional thing she ever did. As it happened, once his paintings began to sell, her father decided he was a good thing, so even that act of bohemian individualism turned out conventionally well for her. Dad died a couple of years back, and she lives in splendid isolation, dashing down to town to see her friends and for shows. There's a sister, she is preggers, married to rich banker who is actually disgustingly nice. They are there now, going back to town tomorrow."

'Town?" Annie looked puzzled.

"Oh sorry," I explained, "English upper-class speech. Town is London, and you always go down to it."

"We colonials know our place, my lady," Annie laughed.

"As the daughter of an earl, Ma is allowed to call herself Lady, I am just plain Pixie."

I thought the intricacies of the English-class system too boring to go into detail, but Annie wanted to know, so I explained.

"Makes no sense to me, but I guess that's the point. Outsiders feel like outsiders with it."

"That about sums it up."

A stream of light hit us as Ma opened the door.

"My darling, I was worried. And is this your friend Annie?"

I nodded.

"Annie, this is my mother, Lady Milly."

"Do come inside my dear, it is getting markedly chilly. There, now hang your coat there, and do come and join us in the Drawing Room, you too darling."

I helped Annie off with her coat.

"Well," I whispered, "if you still want to be me after immersion in Hoffmanns, it must be love."

"It's you I want to immerse myself in, not the rest of them," she giggled.

"Fine by me," I giggled.

As we entered, there they were gathered round the fireplace, with Rich, Ella's husband, distributing drinks.

"Pixie," he smiled, "you look lovely, and who is this gorgeous vision, not another lady love."

His easy smile lit up the room for me, and I introduced him to Annie, and Annie to Ella, my very pregnant sister.

I saw Ma stiffen at Rich's words, but she was too well-bred to say anything.

"Nice to meet you Rich. No, not yet, but if I get lucky, I'll be sure to let you know. Lady Hoffmann, what a beautiful room, is that the original Queen Anne fire-surround? They are quite rare I think."

Ma smiled. Annie could not have picked a better way of endearing herself to my mother. She was equally attentive to Ella, asking her the sort of questions a nurse can ask a pregnant woman. By the time we reached the dining table, Annie was a firm favourite. I smiled. I was grateful to her for taking the tension from the atmosphere.

Rich whispered to me:

"Sorry Pix, my comment was in bad taste, but I have to ask, is she?"

I giggled, looking at Annie, who smiled back.

"Yes," I whispered.

Annie had a gift for being social, which was wonderful, as it meant I could relax and let the conversation go where it wanted. It was clear that even my mother was impressed.

After dinner we retired to the Drawing Room for a drink, with Ella taking herself off to bed. Rich had a brandy and followed.

"You have such a lovely house, Lady Hoffmann, I wonder if I might propose myself as a visitor tomorrow, I'd love to see it by daylight."

Ma readily agreed.

The evening had gone swimmingly, and I began to feel sleepy, the log fire crackling, its warmth making me relaxed.

"Lady Hoffmann, I don't want to fly under a false flag with you. I appreciate, as does Pixie, that you have deeply-founded religious beliefs which make you bound to disapprove the fact that she and I are lovers. I respect that."

Annie's Australian directness found her way to the elephant in the room.

Ma looked stunned. She much preferred to make oblique references in public and condemn me in private, so this young woman taking the bull by the horns threw her on the defensive.

"I am glad you do Annie, and it is nothing personal."

"Lady Hoffmann, for Pixie it is. She loves me and I love her. If she is allowed no physical expression of that love, despite the fact she wishes for one, how can she be happy?"

"There are, Annie, celibate priests and nuns, so it can be done."

"I do not dispute that Lady Hoffmann, but these men and women feel they have a calling, and I shan't make the obvious point about their not keeping to that calling in some cases, but simply observe that if even those who thought they wanted celibacy sometimes find it too much, how can you expect your daughter, who has not such call, not to seek physical release?"

I was blushing: partly with embarrassment; but mainly with pride and the realisation that Annie had just told my mother she loved me.

"There was a time, Lady Hoffmann, when divorce was all but illegal, and yet now we recognise it can be a necessity for some, regrettable, but necessary. Could you not take that view with Pixie?"

"But Annie, the Bible is clear."

"With all due respect Lady Hoffmann, on lesbianism it is not. It is also clear that the Apostles were Jewish, we do not take the view that all priests need to be Jewish. It is clear on kosher food; we do not all eat kosher. Jews were supposed to marry Jews; do you think that should still be the case? Was the law made for man or man for the law?"

I could see this going on all night, and it was about my happiness, not a bloody debate.

"Mother," I said, "the Bible forbids all sex outside marriage, you did not insist on the prohibition applying to Ella, so why should another prohibition apply to me?"

"But darling, what Ella wanted is normal, even I did it."

I looked shocked, and indeed was. The idea of my mother having sex was not one I wanted to linger over, but that she broke her own rules seemed significant.

"But Ella and I got married."

"But mother, so could Annie and I."

"Steady on Pixie, I have not asked you ... yet!" Annie giggled.

"You love her, don't you Annie?"

My mother's tone of voice changed.

"I do Lady Hoffmann, but love is an explosion, and intense summer burst of heat. What happens when autumn and winter come? So I want to get to know her, and for her to know me, so we can be in this for the long haul."

"Annie," my mother looked at both of us, "I cannot agree with your arguments, but I can recognise love, and my Pixie is a good girl, she does not sleep around."

"Does that mean I can pay court to her Lady Hoffmann."

Annie used the old-fashioned words with a conscious sense of their archaic nature, but had worked out how they might play with my mother.

"Goodness!" Mother smiled. "Well I never expected that. If you are asking for permission, I shall have to grant it, but mind, you will need to ask for her hand later."

"Lady Hoffmann," Annie giggled, "I fear I want rather more than her hand."

Even Ma laughed at that.

"You are an extremely forward young woman, Annie."

"I'm an Aussie, Lady Hoffmann, it's what we do. Now, shall I go back to my hotel to sleep with your daughter, or can I stay the night?"

"Hey, hey, I am here you know!" I exclaimed.

"Oh darling, do be quiet, Annie and I will deal with this."

"Yes, Pixie," Annie joined in, "just do as your Mother says. After all, for once she's going to agree to something that will please you."

Knowing when I was outnumbered, I submitted.

"Yes, Miss Annie," I giggled.

"I see you have her well trained, Annie. She's like her late father, brilliant, funny and great fun, but needs firm guidance. I see you are a woman in my mould, so yes, do stay."

Metaphorically my jaw hit the dining table and bounced back up.

Annie leant over and kissed my mother on the cheek.

"Thank you, mother, if I may make so bold."

"I doubt, Annie, there is any way to stop you. So stay, and with my blessing. I have not changed my view on the principle, but I can see that there are times when the heart has its reasons."

With that, she kissed Annie on the cheek.

"Bed, young lady," Annie commanded.

Ma laughed as I got up and went with her.

"She is just like her father, offer her early bed and you will find her biddable."

"Mother!" I replied, half genuinely wondering about my parents' love life. Was she right? Was I like my father? He had always seemed to need her stronger presence to provide some stability. Was it the same with me?"

"There's a spare robe, and I can send the housekeeper to your hotel in the morning to fetch your clothes."

"Thank you, Lady Hoffmann, mother."

They exchanged another cheek kiss each, before Annie marched me out.

"What, what?" My mouth opened, but no words emerged.

Annie was almost doubled over, giggling silently.

All the way to my bedroom at the end of the corridor, she giggled.

By the time we were in and the door closed, some words had come, but they were halted in their tracks by her mouth on mine. Her hands on my arse as she pressed me into her, further impeded my flow of words; but stimulated compensatory flows.

My dress found itself in the floor, as I found myself on the bed, Annie ripped my knickers off and pounced. As she pushed into me, she pulled her own dress off, with a little help from me. Her lips pressed into mine, and I opened them to allow her thrusting tongue access. My hands went to her arse, and she helped my get her knickers off, then pushed her thigh between mine so we could scissor.

She kissed me, and I kissed back - hard. My fingers found her breasts and her hard nipples. I bent and sucked them, making her groan. Encouraged, I pressed my wetness against her invading thigh, but she adjusted us so that I ended up rubbing my cunt against hers. A shock of electricity hit me as our clits met, I could feel mine stiffen instantly. Her cunt juices squelched into mine, and that further aroused me. Her hands on my tiny tits increased my excitement. Her warmth against mine, our scent filling the room, she pushed, I pushed back.

I wanted her. I pushed harder, throwing her back onto the bed, and dived between her thighs.

"Foul!" She giggled.

But she opened her legs and grabbed my hair to grind her cunt against my face. I sucked, then tugged on each lip, before sinking my tongue in. Scooping up her girl goo with my tongue, I lubricated her clit with it, moving it from side to side before, as it emerged from its hood, taking it between my lips and massaging it. She moaned loudly, gripping my hair and pulling me into her. My fingers probed her arsehole, and having lubricated it from her dripping cunt, I proceeded to push. I was out of control.

So was she. She thrust herself onto my finger.

"Fuck, fuck, Pixie you dirty girl, you want my arsehole. You can lick it later."

"Fuck that," I giggled, and raising her legs, licked it there and then, strumming her clit with my thumb whilst my fingers penetrated her. For the next few minutes I finger fucked her and licked her luscious arsehole. My thumb played against her clit. The wetness grew thicker, coating my lips and chin.

"Fuck, fuck, Pixieeeee!"

She was moaning, writhing, pushing herself like a wanton into my face, while, so wanton myself, I lathed her arsehole. As my tongue penetrated, tasting her, she exploded onto my hand. Her cunt clutching my fingers, she shuddered into my face. I kept licking until I felt her hands on me.

"You are a very naughty little Pixie, I wanted you to cum too."

So saying, she pulled me across her lap on the bed and swatted my bare arse, then, thrusting her fingers between my thighs she finger fucked me. Already close, I came almost at once. Laying on her lap, I felt myself go.

"There," she giggled, slapping my arse again, "that's what happens to naughty girls."

"I shall have to be naughty a lot," I giggled back.

"You are adorable," she said, hugging me to her.

We kissed, and kissed, falling into each other's arms on the bed.

The next thing I knew was Annie kissing me.

"Did I exhaust you?"

Sleepily, I turned over and let her kiss me some more.

"I love early morning cunt," she said, moving down to demonstrate her devotion.

As her tongue slid up my cunt, her hands parting my lips, I moaned

I could feel her tongue, which seemed everywhere, along my petals, in my wetness, and then upwards, licking my clit, prior to sucking her. I writhed. I touched my nipples, caressing them, pinching them, as she pinched my stiffening clit.

"Not fair," I moaned softly.

"All is in love and sex," she grinned, looking up at me, her sweet face wet and glistening. "I told you I like early morning cunt, so fragrant."

She caressed my clit with her lips, tugging on her, and then on my lips, transferring her tongue downwards to my arse. I wriggled, not believing the intensity ... and then ...

I came.

I felt her slide up, her warm body making me shiver. I smelt myself, then tasted myself on her lips.

"Happy Monday, darling, and welcome to the rest of our lives."

If that was how Mondays could begin, I thought to myself, the rest of our lives seemed on track to be paradise.

We lay there in the afterglow, looking at each other.

"You are mine, Pixie," Annie whispered.

"Yes, I am," I replied, smiling, "and you are mine."

"Yes, I am," she said, smiling.

We kissed. The day could wait - it was only the beginning of the beginning, after all.