Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One (4 page)

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Authors: Daniel Six

Tags: #mark, #daniel, #six, #emma, #dean, #beholder, #dowser, #belonger, #ione, #manassa, #merkin, #gnomon

BOOK: Belonger (An erotic novel): Part One
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Emma
drove the splay deeper into her vagina, rubbing the textured
bulb along its sensitive upper tract
,
humming wantonly, lathering Ione’s
twat
with
single-minded
intent
,
gathering every wayward impulse
to
a centering
desire.


That’s it, love,” she
breathed, heaving from the effort of treading now. She plunged the
splay again, forced it down hard till Ione’s clitoris was starkly
distended from the oval breach.


Shower time!” Emma giggled,
and lapped
up
a
mouthful of water. Ione groaned as
her
womanhood
was lovingly
spritzed
, compounding her increasingly
fervent ambition to consummate the act.

Emma filled her mouth again,
issued another sputtering spew onto her clit with a spiral
flourish, an intimate transmission that flirtatiously beckoned the
conclusion. Ione heard a wandering sound emerge from her own
throat, knew she would climax if Emma would kiss her there just one
more time. But the little blond
sensed her
nearness to fulfillment
, defied her by
languorously fountaining
her turgid tip
again and again
, nimbly countering the
manic need for release
.


That feels
sooo
good…” Ione
suspired. Emma lovingly sprayed her pussy with sucked and gulped
mouthfuls of warm lake water, one after another.


Please, love…” she begged
at last.


You wanna come,
sweetheart?” Emma teased. “Is that it?”


Oh
yesss
,” Ione implored.

Please…”

Emma forced the splay hard
against her vulva and
Ione’s swollen
pudendum was bullied wide by its uncompromising girth.


Then we’ll just kiss the
pink one more time and see what happens…”

Emma limbered her lips into
action once again, licking and tickling Ione’s womanhood with
slowly advancing passion till her stiffened point went abruptly
slack, loosening to a submissive blot under her tongue. Emma
pressed a thumb into the notch of her anus, servicing a private
requirement, and Ione
chopped helplessly at
the lake as
her dignity
fled in taut little
eruptions
, the futility of
self-control
multiplying her
joy to a ragged shout.


Oh lick it, lickitup
lickituplickitup…
yesssss!

She abandoned herself to a
sublime syncopation with the other woman, rising and falling on a
wake of rapturously rendered oral sex as Emma conveyed her stroke
by fluttering stroke to bliss, legs churning the water about them
to a roil. She
worked Ione till the ecstasy
was fully indulged, thumb sensuously massaging her knotted
sphincter, monitoring its telltale clench and release through the
time-slurred interval of orgasmic transport. When it relaxed for
good she gently kissed Ione’s pubis and withdrew her lips,
thoughtfully letting
her lover
savor the afterglow as she held them
both.

Then they were uncoupling, apart again,
staring slightly away, silent in the distant ambience of the camp
women.


Thanks,” she whispered, not
sure if Emma heard.

Manassa hollered, cracking a towel, and a
slipper hastily scrabbled back to her designated partner, rubbing a
chastened posterior.

Emma
pulled into a
n expectant
backfloat, and Ione drifted closer to
oblige.


Imagine trying this on
Manassa
,
” the
little blond quipped, grinning exhaustedly
.

Ione
stared
. “How could you be thinking about
her now?”


What
?
” Emma was abruptly on the defensive.
“I wasn’t! I mean–


Oh. Of course. You want to
teach her about
pleasure
. Quite reasonable.
She
is
ignorant on
the subject, along with everything else that might explain her
past—or ours.”


No! It’s just
that–


What, Emma? She’s special
like us? Makes decent conversation? Flaunts a glamorous
snatch?
She’s a
stranger
,”
Ione hissed.
“We can’t trust her,
certainly not under these circumstances. I don’t know what to make
of it that you want to!”

Emma’s crumpled
demeanor
finally registered the distance
that had accumulated between them since waking, and when she spoke
again all defiance had quit her tone.


We were strangers once,
too.”

The lake fell silent for a moment, restored
to a solitary custom.


Maybe we still are,
whatever the past seems to imply,” Ione shrugged, brusquely
disdaining sentiment. “So we’ll take care of
your
treacherous urges back in the
camp.” She
turned on this threat,
stroking off at a pace the smaller woman couldn’t
match.

Emma
stared
unhappily after her dwindling
form, remembering…

 

The skulks of the
green streams
were not
especially cunning, but Emma had somehow failed to detect an
organizing will lurking beneath their individuality, a hidden
gravity of desire, and this time
she
knew
the consequences
would
be severe.
She trod in silent exhaustion, no longer trying to swim, lost
in a
labyrinth
of
subterranean waterways seldom visited by outsiders.

Emma had wanted
company
. S
he was
friendless, excluded by the established societies of women
for reasons that were never formally acknowledged
by the doyenne couples that ruled them. She had finally realized
they were simply fearful she would disrupt their rigidly dualized
loyalties—Emma could think and speak like them. She had no place in
their governance therefore and was unhappily consigned to the
company of women that possessed only a contingent form of
intelligence; slippers.

As time passed the deepening
solitude of her existence had driven her to steadily riskier
behavior, games and trysts with meaner skulks in more desolate
places, till finally she had gone looking for…
whatever she’d been destined for all along,
she decided now
.

It was quiet
but for
the susurrus
of
woven currents
that fed the warm lake where she had fled the men,
but
her thought was still
resonant with
their muttering plaint,
drawing ineluctably closer
.

Shutting
her eyes
,
she
recalled the
ir
hidden
ambition
,
revealed only when it was almost too
late.
Just t
he
dimmest recess of identity had saved her then
, a tiny voice
stalling her desperate
inclination to society. She had wailed then, an abject denunciation
of fate, thrashed free of the fellatio rank and the dark parlor
where it operated. B
ut she could not
seem to escape
the waters
they controlled, or the knowledge of her gradual reduction
as personality was displaced from her head, stroke
by stroke.

The currents
toyed
with her till
she gave up trying to
decipher
them
,
and the skulks
had
finally
isolated
her
in this nameless water, lit to a melancholy gleam by a
neurotic,
green-eyed
gnome hanging low over a distant territory of the
cavern
.

A querulous hoot issued, not
far off. The
skulks
were drifting onto the lake
now
,
would
soon detect her. Any fast movement would
draw them quickly to her position.

Emma was done crying,
finished with all the bitter rites of redemption and
self-consolation
. She lacked the energy for
any kind of emotion now, even regret. All that remained was
a dull impetus to see how it ended for
her.

She stopped treading,
drifted below the surface, departing its
fitful interface of air and water for gradations of just the
latter. Everything went mute.

Would she lose courage,
change her mind and resume her dread existence? Why, if
s
he couldn’t even conceive a future
justification?
If she
waited
long
enough, sank far enough, she wouldn’t
return
, drifting forlornly about
the
deep
reaches of
the lake, unsought by any friend or lover. It was no great concern
now…

Emma was drawn silently,
relentlessly down to a virescent
realm of
foliage-choked elevations hovering over low altitudes of
shadow
. The water grew
dimmer
by increments, and she let her
eyes fall solemnly shut as darkness gathered.
The green streams, the pleasure parlor, the skulks on the lake
above, all were softly blotted from concern, affairs of another
world, not so serious really.
How far gone
now?
It didn’t matte
r, not anymore
.

Everything was slowing down…

A rhythm coalesced
on
the
deep,
a faint
but vital
sound drawing near.
T
hey had arrived then—there was no going
back. She felt dream beckoning, readied a final question for its
alien surmise.

But it was no man that
approached
; the cadence was subtly
wrong.
Her eyes flared open to discern a
thready
coruscation
issuing from a blurred but
feminine
silhouette far above, moving so fast
Emma
had to blink off the impression of a skulk. What was another woman
doing here? Emma kicked once, arresting her descent.

She dully
tracked
the stranger, saw
her falter, slowing to a weary tread that revealed the elegance of
her long body from beneath. She would have her choice of skulk
companions Emma knew, if she was desperate enough to brave their
company. That she could be found in a place like this said as much,
and Emma felt a minute sorrow form on behalf of this friendless
creature. B
y her alarmed swiveling it was
clear the stranger had detected the skulks on the lake
now
, would shortly answer for Emma’s
indiscretions. Alone, like herself in the end. But so close,
too…

Everything stalled at a fathomless instant of
equilibrium, then Emma blasted for the surface, kicking madly.
Green light gathered on her brow, welling to an already discredited
intensity…

She emerged with a
grim
sense of
purpose
, heaving quietly. A thick resonance
of
muttering and hollering advertised the
approach of her former companions from several directions, eager to
secure her participation once again.


Hey,” she
whispered, blinking in the gloom.
The stranger started in alarm,
whirled to face her
, and Emma
flushed
at her beauty, the
intelligence glinting in her brown eyes
,
felt something stir
a
condensed numbness
within.


What’s with the skulks?”
the other demanded, and Emma was enthralled by her
voice,
imperiously
commanded
despite the
fearful significance of the question.


Yeah,” she squirmed,
suddenly hesitant to explain. “They’re pretty worked up, looks
like…”

The men were making enough noise to cover
their conversation now. Emma had drifted closer to the stranger,
could have reached out to touch her fine brown hair, swishing
rhythmically about the sensual declination of her neckline. She
turned from their enemies to stare directly at Emma.


What are you doing
here?”

Emma might have asked the
same, but found herself looking away. She decided to let the
stranger think what she would, and from this sad
correspondence
of circumstance
a tiny
empathy
took root
.

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