Chapter 7
"That was amazing," Heather whispered into my ear, as she settled her body on mine. We were both still too stimulated to relax completely, our fingers and lips wandering over the other's body, our breathing only beginning to slow. "You always make me feel so good."
"It was for me, too," I said.
"Good," she replied, kissing my ear. "I guess... I worry that I don't know enough, and won't be able to make you feel as... well, as happy as you could be."
"You do," I assured her. "I like being with you. And you're willing to learn."
"I am," Heather agreed. "Margot, I think... I think I would do anything for you."
"Anything being sex stuff?" I asked, amused.
"Actually, I think I mean anything anything. But yes, anything sex stuff, if you'll show me how," she replied.
That unfamiliar feeling sparked to life again. She would do anything for me. I needed to process how I felt about her while I wasn't actively lusting for her, if that time ever came.
In the meantime, I said, "You say that... I'm not sure if you know what you're offering, and I'd hate to suggest something that will push you away."
"Try me," Heather suggested. "I trust you. And I said I think I'll do anything. If I can't, I'll tell you."
"Well," I said, "I don't like butt stuff, so you're safe from that."
Heather drew back, her eyes wide in panic. "B-butt stuff?"
"Don't worry about it," I said. "I'm just saying you don't need to be worried."
"Okay, I guess," she said, her expression still nervous as she lay down against me.
"You've never made love to a guy?" I asked.
She shook her head sharply. "N-no. Only Sophie."
"Neither have I," I said. "I've known I was gay since my first crush. But guys can be inside you in a way that fingers and even tongues can't."
"R-right," Heather agreed.
"Except that... there are toys, that let us experience it," I said.
"Yeah," Heather acknowledged, her voice somewhere between a whisper and a panicked yelp.
"Are you regretting offering to try anything?" I asked. "It's okay. I can stop talking now and never say more."
"No," Heather said, though she sounded reluctant. "Tell me."
"There are strap-ons that let you be inside a girl while you make love to her," I said. "But there's a strapless kind too, that's more intimate."
"I see," squeaked Heather. "And you... have one?"
"I do," I agreed, with a nod. "Would you like to know more? Or should I stop making you nervous."
"I... I..." Heather stammered. "If I stop when I'm nervous I'll never do anything," she said. "I learned that with Sophie. Tell me more."
"Without a strap, it fits inside the wearer," I said. "That makes it feel very good, but it takes practise to use. But then it's very natural, and you don't feel like you're making love in a rock climbing harness."
Heather's breathing was rapid, but it was a sound of panic, not arousal. "Show me," she said.
I rolled her off me. We were both still wearing tops and underwear. Our few remaining clothes would be coming off if I used the toy - well, I was pretty sure they'd be coming off soon anyway - but I was glad she had one less thing to be embarrassed about right now as I padded across the floor to my dresser.
Heather's reaction when she saw the toy was about what is expected. Why had I even suggested this? I knew it would be far outside her comfort zone, but she had seemed so eager to try something more... Her eyes were wide with - well, if not exactly fear, then severe apprehension.
"It's so big," she muttered.
"Not really," I said. "There are longer and wider versions. But it was dumb of me to think you might want to do this, Heather. I'm sorry. I'll put it back away."
"No," she said, instantly. "If it's something you think I'd want to do, I trust you."
She didn't look any more comfortable after saying the words, so I tried again. "You don't have to jump out of a plane to prove you're not scared of heights," I said, "and you don't have to do something you don't want to show me you care for me. I know that."
"That's not it," Heather said. "I want to try."
"Is it because you think I will want to find someone else, who..."
"Stop," Heather interrupted, anger in her expression. "You have to trust me, too, or there's no point, is there? I'm not lying to you."
"Jesus," I said. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm being totally condescending to you. Please forgive me."
"Hmph," Heather grunted.
"So you really want to try?" I asked.
"I don't know now," Heather grumped, but her lips were trying to rise into a grin. "I don't know if I like you anymore."
"Yes you do," I said.
Heather sighed. "Yes, I do," she agreed. "So is this going to hurt?" She looked down at the six inch shaft. "I've never put anything bigger than a tampon inside me."
"I won't lie," I said. "The first time is likely to be uncomfortable. It might hurt a little. But we'll take it very slowly and use plenty of lube, and you'll have an easier time than you ever would have with a boy."
"That shouldn't bother me," Heather said. "Most girls go through it, right?"
I frowned, not sure exactly what "it" meant.
"I mean, something like that," she said, glancing at the device, "or a boy."
"Oh, well, yeah. Every one of your female ancestors had to, for a start," I said, with a grin. "And the discomfort doesn't last. Then I think you'll find it worth the effort."
"Uh, right," she said. "So what should I do?"
"Taking your clothes off would be a good start," I suggested, as I hopped off the bed to collect the lube from my nightstand.
Even after all the time we'd spent together in bed, Heather still colored when she stripped, and it was easy to tell from the positions of her hands that she was having to keep herself from trying to cover up. I leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. "You're so sweet," I said. She frowned at me, not knowing the source of my comment.
"I'm going to use this just as a dildo, first," I told Heather. "Let you get used to the feel of it. That will help ease you into the experience."
She just nodded as I rubbed lube over the shaft. watching my fingers as I worked. "Tell me if it hurts and I'll add more lube and take it more slowly," I instructed. Then I stroked her labia with the tip of the toy.
Heather was still aroused from our lovemaking, and the dildo slid easily over the folds of her sex, even when I parted them slightly, running the tip up and down. With my left hand I lightly stroked her clitoral hood, hearing her breathing deepen. Then I parted her labia with the fingers of my left hand and very gently began to work the shaft into her.
She grunted and I stopped. "Does that hurt?" I asked.
"Not exactly," she said, then took back her comment. "Well yeah, maybe a little, but not much."
Easing off the pressure, I let the toy slip back out, then pressed it back into her. This time I made a couple of inches of progress before her breath caught.
"What is it?" I asked, letting it slip out again.
"It... pulled," she said. "That hurt a little."
"Needs more lube," I diagnosed, and spread more on the tip and around.
The shaft slipped in with little resistance almost to its full depth. Heather's dubious expression showed she still wasn't comfortable, but she didn't raise any more objections.
In for a penny...
I began to move the dildo out, then pushed it back in, in a slow rhythm. After a few strokes, I moved my left fingers back to Heather's clitoral hood, pressing it lightly, all of the movement provided by the shaft within her.
Her face lost the anxious look, her eyes widening slightly as the new sensations began to take hold. Her chest rose further as she breathed, lifting firm nipples into the air.
"Do you like that?" I whispered.
"I... think I do," Heather replied.
The toy was becoming easier to work, sliding smoothly now on each stroke, just enough resistance that I knew she'd be feeling its passage. I pressed a finger to either side of her hood, pushing in a little more firmly.
Heather began to moan softly. Her hips began to rock against the movement of my hand.
"It's starting to feel... really good," Heather murmured.
"Good," I said, softly. "You're doing fine."
I plunged the toy into her with greater vigor, careful not to let it pop out. It really wasn't designed to be used like this, and it was hard to hold steady.
Heather's hands gripped the bedsheets beneath her. Her hips rocked, her lovely breasts quivering. It would be easy to take her over the edge like this.
For a moment I considered it. That would probably ease Heather's nervousness about the toy. But it seemed cheap. The device was designed to let us share the experience, and I knew that she would want that. After pushing herself so far out of her comfort zone, she deserved to feel me with her.
So as she began to pant excitedly, I slowed my hand, then gently drew the shaft out of her.
Heather gave me a disappointed glance, then seemed to realize just how quickly she'd accepted the plastic penis inside her, and her eyes widened in surprise.
"Not as bad as you thought, huh?" I asked with a grin, standing.
"Uh, right," said Heather.
Taking the strapless strap-on into the bathroom, I cleaned it up, then took off my underwear and inserted the stationary end in place, gripping it within me. I washed and dried my hands, pulled off my tank top, then returned to the bedroom.
Heather looked up as I closed the door. Her eyes grew wide. "You look like... a satyr," she croaked. She seemed to be suppressing laughter. Then she added, "A satyr... with boobs!"
That opened the floodgates, and she began to laugh. There was a slightly hysterical edge from her nervousness, but it seemed to bring her some relief. She lifted herself to her elbows to see me, her breasts shaking with each peal. Then she tried to get herself under control. "I'm sorry," she said.
"It's okay," I assured her. "The first time a girl used a strap-on with me I thought it looked terrible. Incongruous. It had a harness which made it look worse. And it was completely unsexy."
Heather had succeeded in calming her laughter. "Did it feel unsexy?"
"Oh, no, it was... well, I can say I overcame my resistance to its appearance," I said.
"Will you want me to use one?" Heather asked.
"One thing at a time, honey," I said. "Only ever if you want to. I want to be with you. Specific things don't matter."
"But if you like those things, I want to do then for you," she said, as I began to smooth lube onto the toy.
"We'll see what we grow into," I said, "and what we both want, and when. We don't need to rush. We have time, don't we?"
"I hope so," Heather agreed. It sounded more like a promise than a wish.
Parting Heather's legs, I knelt between them, then leaned forward enough to press the shaft of the toy into her, just far enough to stay inside.
"Tell me if I go too fast," I ordered.
Heather nodded, but she was so slick from the preparation that I had no trouble sliding deep into her. Holding her hips, I began to rock against her.
Heather picked up the motion quickly. The time I'd used the toy manually had been well spent. She wanted more, and her desire had overcome her reticence and the ridiculous vision of "a satyr with boobs."
She no longer needed my hands to guide her, so I moved them to the bed beside her chest, leaning forward. When I had found my balance, I licked the fingers of my right hand and began to tweak her left nipple, lightly pinching it and twisting it left and right.
Heather began to moan softly, and I felt her rocking more firmly against my sex. I continued to tug on her nipple, stretching it, then circling it lightly with my damp fingers, as her body squirmed in growing need.
Lowering myself to my elbows, I began to lap at her left nipple. She panted, a soft sound accompanying every breath. In the rhythm of our bodies, I lightly sucked her nipple, drawing back as I thrust into her, letting the nipple slip between my lips, to take it again as I rolled my hips back and my face closer.
Turning my right arm, I rested my hand against her left breast, my forefinger and thumb against Heather's nipple. Remembering her excitement at a similar action previously, I pinched her nipple between finger and thumb, then stretched it and rubbed my tongue along it.
For a moment I thought that the extra stimulation must have been lost among everything else Heather was feeling.Then her body drove against mine, and she cried out, "A-hh, a-hh, a-hh," each gasped sound becoming a sharp intake of breath.
I had wanted to ease back and let her climax build more slowly, but as she slammed her sex into mine I knew that she was too close for recovery, and all I could do was let her topple into orgasm, her hips lifting my body high off the bed as her fingers gripped the sheets below her.
She whimpered in apparent torment as her body writhed beneath me. The toy transferred all of her wriggling to my G-spot, and I'd have lost the battle against my own climbing arousal except that I was having to work so hard to hold it in place
Heather's whimpers gradually became sighs as she sank back to the bed. As she did I stretched my legs out behind me and slid higher along her body. "Are you less skeptical now?" I murmured, as I lay against her.
"Don't ask me questions right now," Heather whined. "I don't think my thing is working. The thing I think with."
"Your mind is broken?" I asked, chuckling.
"That thing, yes," she answered, sighing. "I think I overloaded."
I laughed and pressed my lips to hers. She responded with a slow intensity, feeding my own excitement. "Whoa!" I said, my heart racing, when we finally took a breath. "It doesn't seem like losing your mind has made you any less ardent."
"Mmhmm," Heather agreed. "Usually it gets in the way."
I appreciated that she could banter with me even while distracted by passion, but what she said rang true,too. Her constant second-guessing herself interfered with her ability to express herself, so that she withdrew even more than she otherwise would. I wanted to be someone she would never need to doubt, or to doubt herself with. I wanted her to be able to open herself up to me without reservations. Without her mind getting in the way. I wasn't sure when that had happened, but it had become true.
Sliding my hands down her sides, I caressed her butt, then lifted her thighs. "Hook your legs behind mine," I suggested.
She did, and I felt her sex pressed firmly to mine as I began to rock against her. Heather's arms came around my back, hugging me, my breasts squashing hers as our mouths joined.
This time I was the one to groan, as our motion transferred to a changing pressure against my G-spot, and Heather's sex pressed lightly against my clit.
I could feel her excitement grow, too, building on the echoes of her recent climax. She moaned, then broke the kiss as she panted. I wasn't sure if I could wait for her, but I wanted to try.
The sounds Heather was making were uncoordinated, excited gasps from deep in her throat. She was close, but I was losing the battle with my arousal. I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I pressed my lips to hers fiercely, not giving her a chance to draw away. Finding her tongue probing between my lips, I sucked hard on it, lifting my hands to grasp her breasts firmly, kneading them hard as I bucked against her.
Heather let out a surprised squeal, muffled by my mouth on hers. Then, as I felt myself plunging off the cliff of my orgasm, her back arched, her sex thrusting against mine, and she shook beneath me. I could feel the waves of her climax travel along the toy to my sex, even as my own pleasure pulsed hard within me, and we both moaned into the kiss.
I took the toy to my bathroom to clean up, leaving Heather with a faraway look of contentment. When I returned, she was looking at me more thoughtfully, though still lying naked on her back. The sight took my breath away.
"Uh-oh," I said, running a finger down from her neck, over the side of her left breast, to her hip. "It looks like your mind started working again."
She grinned at me. "I guess so," she said.
"So what problems is it discovering?" I asked.
Heather frowned. "My first lover, Sophie, warned me not to fall in love with her, because she wouldn't stay with me."
"But you did, anyway," I said, remembering her comment.
"Well, yeah, but not in the way she meant," Heather countered. "I love her because she... woke me, I guess, but didn't hurt me. She could have made me her plaything. I knew so little then that she could have easily made me fall for her and abused me. She was clear that I mustn't, and she wouldn't. Which is why she was right to insist that I don't fall in love with her, and why it's perfectly okay that I did, in that distant, happy memory way."
"Yeah, I see what you're saying," I said.
"So what happens if..." She stopped speaking, her eyes holding mine. They seemed particularly large, and may be glistening slightly.
I rested my hand on hers encouragingly
"What happens if I fall in love with you?" Heather asked.
My heart skipped at the question. "Do you think you might?" I asked.
"I... think I maybe already did," she said. "And not in a way that would be satisfied by happy memories. I want to stay with you, Margot. I am afraid that if I have fallen in love with you I'll scare you away, but I can't lie to you and tell you that I'd be okay with chalking up the past week to a learning experience."
"Neither would I, Heather," I said. "I guess I don't really know what being in love feels like, but I want to be as special to you as you are to me." I sighed. "Truth to tell, who I was has been seeming like an empty shell. I didn't know what I was missing, but I do now. I think I may need you more than you need me. I feel like I've met my partner, and she's you."
Heather held out her arms to me. "Come to bed with me, love," she said, and I complied willingly.