I fell onto my bed but could not sleep. I got up and took a shower, then looked around for something to do. I had done all of my homework, even finished two papers that were not due for months. I looked into my hamper but found it did not contain enough for even one load. My desk was clean, my bed was made, I had called my parents the day before. Bills had been paid, email answered, blood donated, lines memorized. I looked in my desk drawers and saw neat stacks of records and receipts, enumerating what I had been up to. It struck me then that wanting Masha had led me to a bizarre state of overachievement. I had always been a decent student, and fairly tidy, but now I was impassioned. I was pursuing excellence, thinking that when I found it, she would be there.
Lindsay was home, but asleep. I woke her up.
"Jesus, Kelsey, it's six in the morning!" she bellowed.
"I slept with her," I told her.
"No shit," said Lindsay, sitting up. "Good for you."
"I have to break up with Tim," I announced.
"What? You barely know her!"
"Not for her, silly. For me. I'm not attracted to him. Not enough, anyway. I think I must be a lesbian."
"And you never noticed this when you slept with me? You are in trouble!" She huffed and folded her arms.
"Maybe you are not the person to have this discussion with," I ventured. I started to get up.
"No, no, no!" She grabbed me and pulled me back down. "It's okay. I didn't become a lesbian after sleeping with you either. But poor Tim!"
I nodded. "But Tim is like a 7, which is great if the sexiest you've ever seen is a 10, which it was until Masha. But Masha is like a 23 quatrillion." Lindsay and I often measured things in numbers.
"Quatrillion is not a word," said Lindsay. "And by the way, what am I?"
"Oh, at least an 8." I knew it was important to her that she be higher than Tim.
"But she could turn out to be an asshole," Lindsay said, going back to Masha.
"Who cares? She's a 23 quatrillion. If I wanted nice, I'd stick with Tim."
"Well, she could stop wanting you," Lindsay suggested. "Stranger things have happened."
"They have," I agreed. "Still, I have to break up with Tim. I am an ass not to have done it before. I knew that I didn't want him enough weeks ago on the treadmill."
"What?" Lindsay was confused. "What does jogging have to do with it?"
"Never mind. I have to go. Thanks," I said, "for listening." I got up and left.
Sunday morning I was at Masha's door. She had called twice on Saturday, but I had been with Tim. It occurred to me as I knocked that perhaps I should have called her back, instead of just showing up. I stood there pondering in the cold. I had dressed carefully, trying not to look like I had. I wore a little gray wool skirt and my black leather jacket. Lindsay called the outfit my "study in opposites."
Eventually, Jane, one of Masha's housemates, showed up and let me in.
"Hi," I said. Jane was a drama major, and I had met her a couple of times.
"Morning," she said, smiling. "Masha's in the shower. Want some coffee while you wait?"
I followed her into the kitchen, where all three of Masha's other housemates were puttering around with cups of coffee and newspapers and bagels and things.
"Quite a hubbub," I commented to Jane after she introduced me to everyone.
"Yeah, it's a big house, but the kitchen gets crowded mornings."
She handed me a cup of coffee and sat opposite me at the table.
"So, rehearsals for you guys start tomorrow, yeah?" Jane asked.
I nodded. We talked a little bit about the play and about professors. Then Jane told Eric, one of the housemates, "Go tell Masha Kelsey's here. She's gotta be out by now."
Eric nodded conspiratorially and left. Jane and I kept chatting until Masha came in. She was wearing a very small tank top and boxers. She seemed like a haven of smooth skin, stomach and thighs. How anyone else in the room was still standing was beyond me. Our eyes met, and I grinned like an idiot. My cunt was oozing instantly, and I was sweating and drooling and breathless. I spread my legs instinctively, under the table, and was immediately sorry when my hamstring throbbed. Masha came over and sat next to me.
"Hi," she said, gloating over the state I was in.
"Hi," I told her.
Jane got up and left the room. Masha and I just sat there. She looked at me directly, smiling but not saying anything. I stirred my coffee needlessly.
The others soon wandered off as well, casually and one after the other. It was so subtle I almost would have thought they had other things to do. She had them well trained.
Finally she said, "I was wondering if you would call me back."
"Well, I guess I didn't, but I'm here. Is that okay?"
"Uh-huh." She gave me another slow smile. I tried to maintain my composure, but ended up taking her hand and sucking on her index finger. After a moment, she gently took her hand away. I almost cried.
"Don't think I wouldn't give my first born to have you sucking my fingers, but I think that we should talk," she said.
"Talk?!" I almost shouted.
She laughed. "I know. It isn't our forte, but I have some things to tell you."
I waited.
"I may be a slut," she said, "but I am not interested in suffering, so I need to know if your agreement with Tim was for one night with me or what."
"I broke up with Tim," I told her, knowing it was risky.
"Well, I hope not on my account," she said, trying not to look alarmed. "I want you on and on and on, but I don't love you or anything."
"I know. I don't love you either, but I am evidently a raging lesbian, and Tim is clearly a man."
"Oh," she said, sounding relieved but confused. "You know rumor has it you are the preeminent bisexual."
"Rumor is wrong," I told her. "I was mistaken, too."
"Gee, this talking stuff is full of surprises." She stretched and yawned. Then she got up and went over to the coffee pot. "I'm just gonna stand over here where I can't smell you," she said, grinning sheepishly. "I promised myself I would talk to you, and I have a few more things to cover."
"Okay," I said.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip. "So, you know that was my first time with a woman."
"What?" It is a good thing I was sitting. "But I heard you made out with Emily Heidiker in dance studio A."
"Right. We were interrupted."
"So, what, you just stopped and left?" I was incredulous. I could not imagine anyone not finishing with Masha.
"Brandon Mitchell walked in on us. He wanted to practice pirouettes or some dumb thing, and he insisted we give up the room. By the time we found another place, the mood had passed."
"So, you never..."
"No."
"But you..." I stopped.
"I what?" she said.
"You had me coming my guts out. You hit my g-spot on the first try." I was astounded. "I guess experience doesn't count for much."
"I don't know. But I've always thought imagination," she said, looking me up and down "is very powerful."
"I guess so," I murmured, remembering the way she had handled me. I wanted to tell her about it, to thank her, worship her, give her money, whatever. But I could not find the medium. That, I decided, is why there is sex. To thank people. Thank you for being so good with your hands that you made me come six times in effortless abandon, for instance. Thank you for being so goddamn beautiful that I run an hour on the treadmill, do four loads of laundry and all of my homework for the next two months without even noticing, for instance. Thank you for pulling your body through the world in such an intensely sexual way that I am born again like a freaking Christian, for instance.
I sat in the chair, looking into my coffee and not knowing what to do. I repeated to myself like a mantra, "You are not in love . . . you are not in love." We had been silent for several minutes when Masha spoke.
"Right now," she said huskily, coming over to me, "I am imagining you, on your back on that table."
She came up behind me and dragged her lips along my neck, reaching around me to cup my breast. She slowly stroked my nipple with her thumb and I felt it harden through my shirt. I started to pant. She pulled me up and kissed me, nudging her tongue into my mouth. She let go of my breast and ran her hands down my ribcage and around to my ass. She stood there shaping my body with her hands and kissing me for a while, more slowly and more deeply than she had before. Her tongue wound its way around mine, pulling itself across my teeth as she moaned. She pulled her lips from mine, moved down and grazed her teeth along my throat.
"You have an incredible body," she murmured as she pushed me backwards into the table, continuing to kiss my neck and beginning to knead my thigh.
"We're in the kitchen," I managed to stammer as her hand moved slowly up my thigh. "What if somebody comes?"
"Nobody is going to come in here," she told me as she bit gently into the side of my neck. "We have weekly house meetings, and there is a policy in place about you."
She stopped and straightened up, looking at me and tracing my lips with her index finger.
"So, do you want me to stop or what?"
"Absolutely not," I told her, taking her finger in my mouth.
"Good," she grinned at me. "Now, about our sex: It seemed the other night," she began, pushing me back into the table, "like you were primarily a finger girl, but I was hoping we could renegotiate that because I need to taste you again. Often."
"I don't know," I teased. I nibbled on the tip of her middle finger. "How often would that be?"
"Well, now for starters," she replied as she leaned in to kiss me. I was dizzy as her tongue again swept me into bliss and pressed back against the table for support. It slid across the kitchen and stopped against the wall. We shuffled sloppily towards it, Masha guiding me. She picked me up, still kissing me and sat me on top of it. She pulled her finger down my neck and started to unbutton my shirt. My clit was hard and hot and aching. I put my arms around her neck and kissed her more intensely. She responded and brought her palm again to my breast. She squeezed it, then took the nipple through the fabric of my shirt and twisted. I groaned and pulled her other hand under my skirt to my crotch. She seemed excited by my urgency and quickly unbuttoned the rest of my blouse while kneading my pussy through my panties. I took my mouth away from her to breathe and drew my tongue down behind her ear.
"Oh, God, Masha. Yes," I gasped as she pressed into my cunt and reached beneath my bra to stroke my nipple. I spread my legs further, wincing from my hamstrings but not caring, and pushed my pelvis to the edge of the table. She removed her hand from between my legs and removed my skirt. I lifted up to let her pull it off of me. I was so wet I made a spot on the table. I needed her to touch me and wished I had not worn underwear. It was only another second before she was back, licking my lips and then kissing me while she reached beneath my panties for my clit. I gasped and moaned as she separated my lips with her fingers and found it. It was swollen and pulsing, and she stroked it so slowly it was hard to tell she was moving her fingers at all.
She could tell from how I kissed her that I was close, and she did not want me to come until she was licking me. She removed my panties, then resumed the subtle stroking.
After a few moments of this, I found I could not wait for her to eat me, which was surprising to me because she had been right. I was usually a finger girl. Now, however, I was only just managing not to beg, as she touched me with maddening slowness. Finally, knowing she had planned it, I stopped kissing her and gasped into her ear.
"Masha," I whispered, shaking and weak "eat me. Please."
She did not make me ask a second time, but laid me back on the table, pushed my legs open roughly and dove in. The pressure of her tongue on my clit was much firmer and sharper than her fingers' stroking had been, and I immediately began to gasp and shudder, grabbing her head and bucking my hips into her. Her tongue flicked my clit until I came quickly, moaning and whispering her name. She pushed her tongue into my hole while I closed and opened around it. She pulled her head up and watched me as she slid two fingers into me and fucked me, hitting my g-spot until I was newly excited.
After a while she withdrew her fingers, lowered her head and began to circle my clit again with her tongue. She licked me slowly and gently for a long time. She was exploring me, drawing her tongue between my folds and only occasionally hitting my clitoris. Soon, I knew that I would come again despite her best efforts to keep me hovering on the edge. Finally, she brought her tongue to my clit and stayed there, lapping at it steadily. I heard her groan as she slid one finger into me again and reached up for my nipple with her other hand. I was much louder as orgasm engulfed me the second time, hurling me into waves of ecstasy. My climax lasted for almost a minute, and Masha gripped my thighs as she followed me, never losing contact with my clit. I lay there panting afterwards, opening my eyes and trying to focus. Masha, still in her tank top and boxers, climbed onto the table with me and held me as I caught my breath. I looked at her, still feeling myself clench, and pulled her to me. I kissed her once, my body languid with eroticism.
"I hope this doesn't freak you out," I whispered to her, "but that was the best orgasm of my life."
She smiled. "Guess we solved that problem," she said proudly.
"What problem is that?" I asked her.
"You being a finger girl."
I laughed. "Yeah. So much for that." I was still a finger girl, but did not want to break her spirit.
"Now, I'm just your girl," I said, rolling toward her. I realized the table was hard.
"Can we go to your bed?" I asked her.
She nodded. I got up, and we cleaned the table together. Then I grabbed all of my clothes and followed her. We sprinted so I could avoid being seen naked by her housemates in the hallway. When we got there, I dropped my clothes and started taking hers off as I kissed her. Within a minute I had reached into her boxers, groaning, and shoved three of my fingers into her sloppy wet cunt. I fucked her, pulling my fingers up into her g-spot, and she moaned softly as I shoved her backwards onto the bed. I leered at her from above, took her nipple roughly into my mouth and gently nipped at it as I pulled my hand out of her pussy and rubbed her engorged clit. She gasped and started to shake and come before I could stop her. I quashed my disappointment and stayed with her, rubbing her clit vigorously as she shuddered and moaned in my arms. I stopped touching her pussy and concentrated on her breasts as she recovered, sucking one nipple while caressing her other breast with my palm.
Her nipples were stiffer than I remembered them, and the thought sent a pang to my cunt. I flicked my tongue over her left nipple and squeezed the other between my thumb and forefinger as I straddled her left leg and pushed my again excited pussy into her knee. She brought it up into me, sighing, and I could tell she was ready to come again. I continued to toy with her nipples as I pushed my knee into her vulva. She was still wet from before and pushed her hips into me, closing her eyes and moaning. I kissed her, entwining my tongue with hers as I reached down between her legs. I pulled her lips apart and teased her for a while, touching her crevices as she gasped and pleaded with me to take her. Finally, I gave her clitoris some attention, nudging it quickly with my thumb and then lowering my body so I could take her with my mouth. I inhaled greedily and looked at her for a moment, pulling her apart with my fingers as she whimpered for more direct contact. Her lips were glistening with wetness, and her clitoris was red and erect. I took it between my fingers and squeezed gently, then gave it a few quick strokes as she gasped.
I was drooling by now and could not tease her any longer. I shoved my face into her and licked her whole vulva clean. Then I pushed my tongue between her lips and pulled it up slowly onto her clit tip. I began gently to trace circles around it as I slid my fingers back into her vagina. My own cunt was throbbing by now, and I was grateful when she pulled me around so that my pussy hovered over her face. She clamped one arm around my thigh, then used her other hand to open me up and slide her finger along my slit. I groaned and flicked her clit more avidly, continued fucking her and tried to fight off my already approaching orgasm. She stroked me a couple of times with her finger, then put her face into me and started licking. We ate each other, and she began to moan into my pussy. Soon, she doubled her pace and I could no longer stop my ascent.
Instead, I flicked her clit more rapidly with my tongue and slid my fingers in and out of her. She was writhing and groaning now, and I allowed myself to let go. My clit was enflamed with sensation as we both came, clinging to each other and gasping as we licked.
After a few minutes it occurred to me that I might be squashing her. I crawled over to her side, and she rolled towards me, pushing the hair out of my eyes and beginning to kiss me again. I relaxed in her arms and kissed her back, engulfed in the eroticism of her tongue discovering mine. We lay there making out, not trying to make each other come for once. I was giddy with the knowledge that after all those orgasms, she still wanted to lie here and kiss me. After what seemed like an hour, there was a knock on the door. She pulled away, and I whimpered.
"Yeah?" she said.
"Um. So sorry to disturb." It was Jane's voice. "We're grilling steaks for dinner.
Do you guys want some?"
Masha looked at me. "No way is it dinner time," I whispered, shocked. She smiled.
"Yeah," she said to Jane, through the door. "We want. Give us a half hour?"
"Okay," Jane said, "we'll put yours on last." I heard her run back down the stairs.
Masha got up and rummaged through her dresser. She pulled out a pile of clothing and pulled me out of bed.
"C'mon," she said, "shower with me."
We ran down the hallway to the bathroom naked, Masha carrying the clothes. In the shower, she took me again. I came quickly, gasping and pressed against the tiles, her fingers stroking me into one climax after another. Finally I could not come anymore.
We got out and dressed. She let me borrow some clothes, since the ones I had worn over had my juices all over them. Her clothes smelled like her. They were just a bit too big for me, and I liked that.
We got downstairs 45 minutes later, but Jane did not comment on it. Our food was still warm, and Eric and the others were sitting around the table, which had been moved back into the center of the room. All of Masha's housemates went out of their way to make me feel as if our all-day fuck-a-thon had gone unnoticed, and I was grateful.
Masha sat beside me, grinning and chatting with her friends, her fingers warm on my thigh.
After dinner, we offered to clean the kitchen, since we had done none of the cooking. I enjoyed the familiar touches she gave me as we worked. The housemates stayed at the table, chatting and finishing their wine. As we were finishing up, she came up behind me.
"Spend the night?" she whispered.
I dropped the cup I was drying. It was plastic, and bounced and rolled. I chased it down and started to wash it again. I didn't know what was wrong with me.
"Look, Kelsey, I know you're tired." Masha had followed me back to the sink.
She grinned, taking the cup from me and putting it down on the counter. "I'll let you sleep. I'll just hold you. I promise."
I was tired, although my hamstrings were beginning to adapt to her onslaught.
Mainly, though, I was afraid because my desire was not lessening. I was afraid that if I spent any more time with her, I would ask her to fuck me raw.
"Okay," I told her, getting hot again at the thought. "But I have a class at 8:30."
She nodded. "I'll drive you back to your dorm at 7 so you can change. Eric will lend me his car."
I doubted she had class until 11. Seniors almost never did. I was touched that she was willing to get up so early just to have me sleep with her.
I spent the night making love to her, glorying in the beauty of her body and trying to make her come as often as I had. She did let me sleep, as promised, but I kept waking up in her arms to roll over and reach for her, fingers seeking her clit. In the morning, she took me back to my dorm and kissed me goodbye in front of the mail guy at the front desk.
My 8:30 was drama lit, and I quickly learned the story of Masha and I making out at Rick's party had gone through the department like wildfire. Most of the guys I saw, and some of the women congratulated me on my bravado. I was now "Kelsey, who pushed Masha into the pantry door." My friend Gloria whom I always sat next to hadn't seen it because she'd missed the party. Nevertheless, she was impressed.
"You know, I heard about you this weekend," she said. "I heard what you did to that girl up against the pantry door, and I give you praise. The thing about that girl is she's always gotta be the top slut. It's about time somebody pushed her into a door."
"It's sex, Gloria, not a fistfight," I told her, laughing.
"Yeah," she said, "still you got your top and you got your bottom, and we are all sick of her picking people out and doing them until they can't even see. About time somebody did that to her."
I was unfamiliar with Masha's reputation as the "top slut," but Gloria insisted it was well known.
"She's always getting to people, but doesn't let anybody get to her," she explained. "From what I heard you did, though." She beamed at me proudly. "From what I heard my girl Kelsey had her all flushed and panting. I heard she couldn't even walk straight after you pushed her up against that door. And all you did was kiss her, right?"
I nodded.
For the rest of the day, I was in a haze. Gloria's spin on what had happened was a common one, and it left me curious about what I was to Masha. It was a typical girl reaction, and I scolded myself, but still I wanted to know. I had no problem being a conquest for her, but I didn't want it to be over before I was satisfied. With all the sex we'd had, I still felt as if I had not even skimmed the surface of what I wanted to do to her.
By the time I went to our first rehearsal that evening, I had stopped hearing the part of the rumor about how I had transformed Masha and only heard the part about her invincibility. I was emotional and distracted, convinced I would never touch her again.
Josh and I arrived before the others, and we discussed the scene we would be working. Masha and I were called at six every evening while the rest of the cast came in at seven. She and I needed the additional time to work because we were the main characters and had the most scenes together. When she arrived Josh had us work on our relationship generally before leading us into a particular scene. I could tell he was not happy with the way we were reading it, but instead of directing us, he just frowned and whispered notes to his stage manager.
When the others arrived, I was relieved to have the tension broken. We began to work a group scene towards the end of the play. Josh directed the others almost to a fault, but he pretty much ignored Masha and me. Around 8:30, we were ready to run the scene from start to finish. When we got about halfway through it, he stopped us.
"Masha," he said for the first time that night, "you and Kelsey are supposed to be sisters. Do you think there's a chance you could stop looking at her like that until the scene is over?"
Everyone stared.
"What?" said Masha.
"You heard me," said Josh. "Stop creaming all over Kelsey. I know you two are an item now, but it's called acting."
We all gawked at him. Rick sputtered mutely. Angie, the stage manager, stopped taking notes. Masha was speechless. I knew she had wiped the floor with directors better than him. Rather than waiting for that to happen, I spoke up.
"Christ, Josh, we all know the woman can act. What is with you? Why the personal comments? I know you are a jealous prick, but it's called directing."
"Yeah, really, Josh!" shouted Rick, stepping forward.
Josh recovered his senses somewhat, apologized profusely, then sent us all home.
He said we'd pick up tomorrow.
I picked up my things slowly, using the time to collect myself. I could not decide who, if anyone, had been sexually harassed. On the plus side, I was too upset about what Josh had said to worry about Masha's feelings for me anymore. By the time I had gathered everything, Angie and I were the only two left in the room. She smiled at me and said goodnight as I walked out the door.
Masha was waiting for me in the hallway. She seemed calmer than I expected.
"You aren't furious?" I asked her, taking her hand. We walked down the hallway towards the door.
"No," she said, "mostly confused. Why would he act like that?"
"Because he's an asshole," I told her. "Always has been. And because he has a thing for you."
"You think?" she said, cocking her head.
I nodded. We were on the sidewalk now.
"Can I come home with you?" I asked her.
"God, yes," she said.
We walked to her place, holding hands and talking about Josh's freak out. I was proud to be with her in public like that. It was an interesting feeling for me. I had always been fiercely independent and had never wanted to be anyone's girlfriend before. I was beginning to want to be hers.
"So, did you hear all the talk about us today?" I asked her.
She laughed. "How could I not? It doesn't bother you, does it?"
"No. What bothers me is that you are Masha the Untouchable."
"Oh, c'mon, Kelsey," she said. "Don't tell me you believe that. No one is that way. They just say that because I sleep around and they want to but don't have the courage."
"Hmm . . ." I said. "Well, will you still sleep with other people? And will you still sleep with me?"
"Yes, and yes," she said. "And you don't want me to stop sleeping with other people yet. So don't pretend you do."
"I'm not," I said. "I want to sleep with other people, too. We're too young, and it's too soon to be married. Besides I just got out of a relationship where I didn't get to sleep with anybody else," I pouted.
"Right," she said, kissing my check as we walked. "That's kind of how I thought you would feel."
I was impressed that she'd thought about what I might want. Still, I had reservations.
"Prove it," I said to her as we walked into her living room. "Prove that you aren't untouchable."
"I thought that much was evident," she said, throwing some logs in the fireplace.
I put my stuff down, and she wandered into the kitchen, coming back with some newspaper and a lighter.
"Kelsey," she said, "maybe there is some truth to that rumor, and I am a little hard to know. I don't know." She sat on the floor in front of the fireplace and pulled me down beside her.
"I do know," she said, as she started lighting bits of paper and poking at the logs, "that it isn't true with you. I'm so attracted to you that I have been on the brink of explosion for seven weeks, three days and 14 hours. From the second we met, I wondered how anyone else could stand to be near you without throwing themselves at you like I do. Really, I think they must all be blind and imbecilic." She laughed. "I want to know you, Kelsey, in the biblical and every other sense. I want to let you know me, and I want to tell you things. It's just hard for me to spend time talking and listening when one look at you turns me into a rabid nymphomaniac."
The fire was catching, and I took off my coat and stretched. I looked at her and lost my mind to lust.
"In some sense," she continued, "Josh was right about how I was looking at you today. That's why I couldn't be angry with him. It's also how I know you're different.
I've always been able to act my way out of anything. But the way I want you has no off switch."
I felt a blaze of heat reach my face. "Okay," I said. "Fair enough. Now, lock the door and take off your pants."
"Already locked," she said, giving me her slow smile.
"Housemates?"
"Poker night at Eddie Mont's place. They'll be gone 'til 1 or 2."
I smiled and leaned in, tilting her face towards mine. I licked her lips, then kissed her, relishing her quick responsiveness as she moaned. We kissed until I was afraid I would pass out with the intensity. Then I pulled away to lick her ear. She stretched out on the floor and pulled me down next to her.
"Why," she said as she pulled my sweater over my head, "do you insist on wearing clothes?"
I giggled, then threw my arms around her neck and pulled her to me. She nibbled on my lower lip as I reached under her shirt and took her breast in my hand. I reached around and unhooked her bra, then came back to touch her under it. I passed my finger over her nipple, and she groaned, pushing into my palm. I felt myself grow hot and moist, and I pulled her clothes off frantically. When she was finally naked, I went to work on her stomach, dragging my lips and tongue around her navel and across to her hips. I pulled my mouth up her ribcage and licked the base of her breast, fingering her nipples with both hands. She gasped and arched beneath me, and I pulled my head up, taking her nipple into my mouth and gnawing on it. I had wanted to tease her, but as usual, could not wait. I reached down and touched her lightly, just brushing the back of my hand over her vulva. She groaned and pushed her hips forward, and I plunged my fingers in to meet her. She was dripping, panting and gasping.
"Kelsey," she whispered above me. "I want it now. Hard."
I pounded her, loving the feel of her clinging to my fingers, hitting her g-spot as hard as I could. I was in ecstasy with her. Finally having license to do this as hard as I wanted was a release for me, and much more satisfying than the treadmill. She was so wet and open that I had no fear of hurting her, and soon she was asking for it harder. She came that way, not wanting me to stop even after her orgasm. I happily kept fucking her, though I eased up a lot. I didn't want her sore tomorrow. I slowly lowered myself so that I could get my tongue on her clit. I teased her with my fingers still inside, licking her labia and passing quickly over the head of her clit. When I began to lick her more avidly, she immediately began to come again. I sucked her clit into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue. She shuddered for a full minute, screaming my name and tightening around my fingers. I loved how easily she orgasmed, and told her this.
"With you," she whispered, as I climbed up to kiss her. "Normally, I'm regular."
She took her time licking my chin and lips clean and then slid her tongue into my mouth. She kissed me the way she did when she just wanted to kiss me for a while. I was thrilled with that, and we made out for a long time, her hands roaming aimlessly, the fire crackling behind us. Eventually, she pulled away and made me dinner, naked. While we ate I stroked her to orgasm under the table. After dinner, we picked up all of her clothes and went up to her room. The fire had died and Masha didn't want to worry about housemates coming in on us later.
When we shut her door, she lit a candle and turned on some music. She turned to me and let her eyes linger over my body. I had put my sweater back on for dinner and began to grow warm under her gaze.
"I want you," she said.
"Oh?" I was playing coy.
"Uh-huh," she stated, walking over to me. "And who told you that you could put that sweater back on?"
"But I like it so much when you take it off of me," I cooed.
She smiled and took it off again. Then she kissed me and pushed me down to the bed. She crawled over me, undressing me as she went. In seconds, I was gasping because she had skipped all the bases and gotten her fingers inside me. She hovered over me and withdrew her hand, spreading my wet around my labia and grazing my earlobe with her teeth. I pulled her around to kiss me as she began to stroke me slowly like she had that time in the kitchen, but this time I didn't let her go down. I wanted to come from her fingers, with her tongue in my mouth. She got the idea and murmured some protests but eventually relented as I kissed her fiercely. She pulled her index finger across my slit, and I gasped. I kissed her desperately, loving her taste, wanting her to know how incredible was making me feel. We kept kissing as she rubbed me, speeding up just a little. She slid two fingers into me, fucking me as she flicked my clit with her thumb.
She continued this until I was breathless, gripping her fingers, coming and moaning into her mouth.
After I came she had sex with the rest of me, pulling her tongue across my stomach and along my spine for a long time. It occurred to me that we'd had sex backwards, with the foreplay at the end. Then she began a long, slow massage, cooing at me about how beautiful I was. I fell asleep, satisfied but vaguely aroused, with her hands pressing into my back.
I woke up before she did, energized and deliriously happy. She sighed as I disentangled myself from her arms. I froze, not wanting to wake her, then slowly inched out of the bed. I tiptoed to her closet and pulled out a sweater and some of her jeans.
Then I took a shower, dressed, and left a note beside her on the bed:
"O Queen Sex Goddess-- I have a 10:00 I can't miss. Vaguely recall some presentation or other. Must work hard not to think of your fingers and instead remember the topic and gather relevant materials from dorm room. Dinner tonight? I want you to meet my roommate. Call me.
-K"
The presentation went well. It was a comparison of Ibsen and Strindberg. About halfway through one of my classmates had a question that evoked a heated argument. I struggled to arbitrate while the rest of the class yelled at each other. The professor seemed impressed that I'd spurred such an interesting discussion, and I got to slack on the second half of the thing. I did think of her fingers. Still, I congratulated myself for leaving her at all.