Summer's End (13 page)

Marianne obviously couldn’t wipe the puzzled look of amazement off her face. “How presumptuous.” She chewed on her lip again.

“You can sleep on it, if you want.” Emily tried to inject a casualness into her voice she was not feeling at all.

“That can’t be very comfortable.” Marianne drew her lips into that crooked grin. She deposited the dildo and harness on the pillow next to her, and dragged Emily on top of her. “And I don’t need to sleep on anything.” She kissed Emily’s doubts away—not doubts about what she wanted, but about how this would all go down. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered in Emily’s ear, her breath hot and moist. “Tonight.”

Emily’s mind blanked and her body turned to liquid. She realised she’d have to keep it together a bit more if she was to live her fantasy—however much by surprise it had taken her.

Emily disappeared into the bathroom with the toys. She took a shower and slowly towelled off, not rushing, but trying to enjoy the moment. She didn’t want to waste too much time either, for fear jet lag would win and Marianne would nod off.

But she needn’t have feared. Apparently, the prospect of what was about to happen was enough for Marianne to kick her fatigue to the curb. She looked rather invigorated when Emily stepped back into the room, blue dildo standing proud between her legs.

When she’d tried it on out of curiosity, alone in her room, the first time, she’d already revelled in the immediate sense of power it seemed to instill her with. Now that Marianne was in the room with her, ready to receive, it made her blood sizzle in her veins. This was her first time, but Emily knew exactly what to do, as if the knowledge just came with possessing the toy—with strapping it on.

She approached the bed, where Marianne lay watching her, a curious but enthralled expression on her face—lips slightly parted, eyes slitted together.

“I hope this thing comes with lube,” Marianne joked.

“Of course,” Emily was quick to say.

She’d been too bashful to ask for a lot of information in the shop, but she’d been prepared enough to buy lube in the process. She knew that much.

“You look so… incredibly hot right now. You should see the look in your eyes, babe.”

Emily didn’t need to see it. She felt it. That surge to take command—to take Marianne. If only it could make her stay.

“Come here.” Marianne offered her hand to Emily, who took it and used it for leverage to climb onto the bed.

“Not too tired then?” Emily teased.

“Clearly, you have resourceful ways of keeping me awake.”
 

Emily tried to do the calculation in her head, but time differences always made her brain freeze. She knew it was late for Marianne’s body though, or early, depending on how you looked upon it.

“After this, you can sleep in my arms. I’ll be by your side all night.” Emily went a little weak at the knees at the thought of waking up next to Marianne in the morning.

Marianne curled her fingers around Emily’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss. It was oddly exciting to lie on top of her with the dildo taking space between them.

It didn’t take long for their kisses to transform into a frenzy of hungrily sucking lips and grazing teeth. Emily pulled Marianne’s Velvet Underground t-shirt over her head again and quickly disposed of the flower-patterned pink shorts she’d lent her. And then Marianne lay naked in front of her, not for the first time today, but this time couldn’t be more different.

Emily began by kissing every inch of Marianne’s skin. She covered her in soft peck after soft peck, first her neck, then her collarbones and her breasts. She loved taking her time and seeing how Marianne reacted—mostly by squirming beneath her, her body twitching and her moans encouraging. The woman really did need to work on her patience.

Before assuming her position between Marianne’s legs, she grabbed the bottle of lube from the night stand and took it with her.

She’d sat in between Marianne’s legs before—and it was always a deeply erotic and emotional experience—but this time there was an added bonus in the shape of a dildo.

MARIANNE

When Marianne had disembarked from the plane that morning, she’d never have thought she’d be in this position later that night. She remembered the excitement of using toys, but, and Emily had no way of knowing this because they’d hardly had time to discuss it, she’d only been on the receiving end a few times.

Ingrid loved receiving, demanded it really, and Marianne happily obliged. She knew exactly—well, she could have a good guess at it anyway—how Emily felt right now, and this was an experience she’d never want to rob her of.
 

She liked this side of Emily, the playful, surprising, knowing-exactly-what-she-wanted side. And she gladly spread her legs for her.

Emily’s hands trembled a bit when she squirted some lube into her palms, but Marianne suppressed the urge to help her. This was her show. It was important to leave her in command.

Emily’s hands reached Marianne’s soaked pussy—hardly in need of lube at all, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry—and her long fingers spread the liquid over her lips, mixing it with her natural juices.

Marianne watched how Emily applied the lube to the dildo with suggestive strokes of her hand. Bubbles of desire burst in her blood. She hadn’t seen anything more exciting in the last decade of her life, maybe never.

There sat this innocent-looking young woman with curly blonde hair and shimmering blue eyes who’d come into her guesthouse one day and changed everything, rubbing her hands over a glistening silicone cock. A shiver ran up Marianne’s spine. She didn’t have to wonder if this was what happiness felt like. She knew.

Emily ran her lubed-up hands over the inside of Marianne’s thighs, tickling and teasing.

Marianne tried to keep the words from rolling off her tongue, but as had become a habit when she was with Emily, she couldn’t stop herself. “Fuck me, baby,” she said, and the words roused even more lust in her blood. “Fuck me.”

Emily looked at her from under hooded eye-lids, as if to say, “You’re not in charge now. I choose what happens and if I choose to wait, you wait.” She let the tip of her finger slip inside Marianne, then another.
 

In any other circumstance, it would have been enough for Marianne, but she knew what was yet to come, and her body started shaking at the mere thought of it.

Emily casually slid two fingers in and out of Marianne’s lubed-up pussy, all the while keeping her eyes—with that look—on Marianne. Maybe she was still trying to make a point, but Marianne was getting past anything that required logical thought.

When she let her fingers slip out, leaving Marianne empty and craving so much more, the intensity in her gaze changed. She crept closer on her knees, until Marianne could feel the tip of the dildo touch her lips.

“Oh god,” she moaned, already.

Emily circled her fingers around the shaft and guided the tip along Marianne’s slit, up and down, briefly teasing her clit before trailing to her entrance. She didn’t enter just yet though—that would not have been taunting enough. She repeated the process, this time circling the tip around Marianne’s clit twice before heading back down. But then, she acquiesced. Slowly, the head slipped in, opening Marianne up in ways completely forgotten to her. Deeper it went, and then a bit more, and then so deep Marianne seemed to be filled to the brim, no room for anything else, every nerve in her body focused on that spot, on the object inside of her, and the gentle thrusting motion it started to make.

Emily lowered herself gently onto Marianne, her body weight resting on her arms planted next to Marianne’s head. She locked her gaze on Marianne, a look in her eyes Marianne had not yet encountered before, and fucked her. Fucked her slowly at first, letting Marianne get used to so much otherness inside of her—although, despite it being a toy, it couldn’t have felt more like an extension of Emily’s body. She slowly amped up the rhythm, leaving Marianne gasping for air.

She’d surrendered to Emily before, but not like this. While Emily thrust inside of her, opening her up in what was physically her most intimate spot, Marianne’s heart started to truly recover—to open up as well. She could see it then, the two of them together.
 

“Oh,” she moaned, and her head shook a little from left to right of its own accord, with disbelief and surprise and complete capitulation.

The tears came before the contractions in her muscles. They streaked Marianne’s heated cheeks as her body shook with the force with which she met Emily’s strokes.

She wanted to tear her gaze away from Emily’s, but she couldn’t. The look in Emily’s slitted eyes was as much a part of her climax as all the rest that was taking place in that moment. Emily’s jaw had dropped, leaving her mouth slightly open. Beads of sweat pearled on her forehead, her body not used to these kinds of movements perhaps. Her breath came with a heavy and slow gust every time she spread Marianne a little wider, letting herself in a little bit more.

“Oh baby,” Marianne shrieked, having lost control of her voice. “Oh jesus.”

It started at her core, a simmering fire that, in a matter of seconds, transformed into an obliterating blast, reaching the tips of her toes and fingers, making them curl with satisfaction, with every delicious thrust of Emily’s pelvis against her own.

Orgasms could differ so much, Marianne knew—able to adequately give herself one in the space of two minutes with a few well-aimed flicks of her fingers—and this one would change everything. Again.

EMILY

Emily had never seen such a mixture of desire and despair in someone’s eyes, but she hadn’t hesitated when Marianne had started to cry. She hadn’t stopped because she knew she had to get her through this—and doing what she was doing now, a foreign object strapped to her thighs, seemed to alter the emotions on Marianne’s face by the second.

She bent her elbows a little more, changing the angle of the toy inside Marianne slightly and was met by another guttural groan. Her nipples hovered close enough to Marianne’s torso to graze her skin when she rocked her pelvis, and she could feel Marianne’s ragged breath blow across her cheeks. Emily couldn’t be closer to her, yet that was what she craved.

She wanted to show Marianne that this was who she really was, the natural progression of the person she’d discovered inside herself in Samui. She wanted to let her know how much she cared about her, how much she owed her—and loved her. How it could be between them if she stayed.

Emily shook that last thought off her, realising it was unfair. She had time to manage her expectations later. Because the way Marianne looked at her, her eyes all but glazing over, tears running from them in steady streams, there was no way she didn’t know.

And when she let go, when Marianne’s body shivered beneath her, one muscle spasm quickly following the next, it shook Emily to her core. It touched her soul. She took the trip with Marianne, that warm, moist, tingling voyage through flesh and bone that, at the same time, had such an effect on her mind. It was the single most powerful experience of Emily’s life.

She let Marianne call the shots, let her gaze up at her with moist eyes and sagging lips before pulling her close, their bodies covered in a layer of sweat.

“You’ve changed me,” Marianne said into Emily’s ear. “I want to live again.”

Emily pressed her lips into Marianne’s tousled hair before pulling out gently. It was an odd sensation, having just fucked another woman like that—the closeness and togetherness it had brought about. As transformative as it had been a few seconds ago, Emily couldn’t get the contraption off her quick enough now so she could press her own body against Marianne. She rapidly loosened the straps, slipped out of the harness and tossed it aside.

“I want to live
with you
,” she said, after she’d freed herself and rubbed her entire body against Marianne’s side. And perhaps it was too soon, maybe even ludicrous, but in that moment, it couldn’t have felt more right.
 

When Marianne didn’t instantly reply, Emily pushed herself up on her elbows and scanned Marianne’s face. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxed, her limbs sunk into the duvet. It was as at peace as Emily had seen her. She still couldn’t believe Marianne was here, in her bed—she almost wanted to reach for the toy again, as if needing to examine evidence.

She planted a soft kiss on Marianne’s cheekbone. Marianne opened her eyes in response. A single tear slid along her temple, down onto the pillow.

“Come here,” she said, and cradled her arm around Emily’s neck, pulling her close.

Emily rested her head on Marianne’s chest, just above the swell of her breast. She felt more like home than ever in her flat.

“I guess I’d better start by informing my family of my new lifestyle though,” Emily backtracked a little because she fully realised that, just because the moment felt right for her, it wouldn’t necessarily be the same for Marianne. “Now that you’re here, I feel as if I can really do that, whereas before it was more of an abstract notion.”

“Do it when you’re ready. You can’t force these things.” Marianne pulled her close, her fingers travelling across Emily’s back. “And even posh Holland Park families have feelings. I’ve been there, so I know.”

“How did your parents react?”
All the questions we have yet to ask each other.

“Well,” Marianne chuckled. “Considering the fact that I always categorically refused to wear a dress or a skirt whenever I was home from school—gosh, these ghastly uniforms they made us wear—and, as a teenager, my room was decorated with pictures of old female movie stars like Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall, it didn’t come as that much of a surprise, I suppose.” She sighed, her chest heaving up and down. “There were the usual questions. Are you sure? Have you given boys a fair chance? And concerns, of course. Will she ever be happy? How will the world treat her? Because, in the end, no matter where you’re from, most parents just want their children to be happy. And once they get past the fact that their child’s happiness will not exactly align with their expectations, they find a way to accept it.” Marianne’s hand had trailed all the way back up to Emily’s hair, twirling strands of it around her fingers. “And I was happy. For a long time, I was so happy. Ingrid didn’t come from the same background as me, but as soon as my father set eyes on her, he saw what I saw.” Marianne’s voice broke a little, but she recovered. “If your family is half decent, and I assume they are, having brought up someone as loving and kind as yourself, they’ll come round.”