Hot Pursuit (24 page)

Laughing softly to herself, Ginger ended the kiss abruptly. As she moved her mouth away, she also retrieved her hand.

The withdrawal was so sudden that Anne stared at the woman as though she had been slapped. The contrast from an overload of pleasure to a complete absence of stimulation left her bewildered and confused.

Smiling, with only the slightest cruelty sharpening her features, Ginger knelt down. ‘It's customary to wash a pony-girl down after she's been carting,' she explained.

Her matter-of-fact tone made Anne wonder if they had really just shared such an exhilarating kiss. Her own body ached from the pleasure she had just enjoyed but Ginger seemed to treat the experience as either commonplace, or something she could easily put behind her.

‘But,' Ginger continued blithely, ‘because we don't have the facilities to wash you down in here, I'll just have to make sure your reward is something truly special.'

Breathless with anticipation, hungry with a need for satisfaction that had been slowly welling since she and Lucy parted, Anne regarded Ginger warily. ‘You don't have to reward me,' she stammered nervously.

The redhead's smile was chillingly seductive. ‘May be I don't have to reward you,' she allowed, ‘but I want to.' Not giving her the chance to protest or delay the moment any longer, Ginger lowered her head.

Anne had time to note the woman's hands had fallen to her knees, and registered that her thighs were being pushed apart, then Ginger's tongue was lapping lightly at her hole. This kiss was far more intimate than the last had been, and a lot more satisfying. Each tentative touch pushed Anne closer to orgasm and she struggled to remain on the creaking chair.

It crossed her mind that the pleasure lacked the same magical quality she had enjoyed with Lucy but
that was only a minor consideration and one she could easily put aside as the surges of joy buffeted her body. Lucy had possessed an ability to make Anne feel comfortable, relaxed and right as she languished beneath her. And, while Ginger was certainly gifted in her ability to tease responses from her cleft, Anne fretted that the woman might suddenly take things too far. It was only a minor worry, and not enough to make her insist that Ginger stopped, but it sat at the back of her thoughts like a shadow threatening to spoil her enjoyment.

Between her legs, Ginger slurped greedily.

The wet sounds were disgustingly animal and they added fresh colour to Anne's delight. She drew another deep breath, and inched closer to the explosion of her release. There was no need for Ginger to continue holding her thighs apart because Anne was so involved in the pleasure she would happily have let the woman remain between her legs for as long as was necessary.

Her sex lips were traced, teased and then plundered. The pressure of Ginger's nose was a constant discomfort that threatened to become uncomfortable, but never quite managed to spoil the moment. Thunderous waves of raw delight perpetually buffeted her body before Ginger deigned to flick the tip of her tongue against Anne's clitoris.

The rush of pleasure was enormous.

Anne snatched a hefty breath. She clawed fistfuls of air and stared down at the head of titian curls between her legs with undiluted awe. Lucy had shown her enormous pleasures during their brief time together, and Anne had thought that was because they were sharing something special, but Ginger seemed able to deliver exactly the same soul-searing joy. She wondered if that indicated something greater, if her
reactions indicated a disposition to take her pleasure from whoever was administering it, rather than from someone special and significant. A part of her insisted that, while this delight was physically satisfying, it didn't offer the same spiritual fulfilment that Lucy's love-making had given. But the thought was too complex for Anne to brood on as another surge of euphoria sang through her sex. The orgasm left her breathless and shivering.

Ginger moved her mouth away and grinned up into Anne's eyes. Something in the calculated glint of her smile made Anne think the redhead was building toward a devious plan but she couldn't find a voice to complain. More intent on simply enjoying the moment, she murmured a whisper of heartfelt gratitude.

‘Did Lucy ever reward you this well?'

Anne considered her answer carefully. She wanted to say that she would rather Lucy had just been pleasuring her instead of Ginger but she was scared of the anger that such honesty would evoke. ‘Lucy made every moment special.'

Briefly, Anne caught sight of Ginger's frown. The redhead tried to disguise her anger, lowering her face and burying her tongue against the dewy lips of Anne's sex, but the snarl of annoyance had been obvious on her freckled face.

Ginger licked Anne's clitoris before pushing her tongue deep into her sex. Her lower lip writhed against the skin of Anne's labia, fuelling after-echoes that added new dimensions to her response. Briefly breaking the contact, glancing to show her jaw was glistening with musk, she asked, ‘Are you sure this reward isn't better than anything Lucy ever showed you?' She teased the tips of her fingers between the lips of Anne's sex and stroked loving circles against the sensitive inner muscles.

As fresh waves of delight were wrought from her gaping wetness, Anne cursed herself for telling the truth. ‘I didn't say Lucy was better,' she mumbled. ‘I just said she made every moment special. I wasn't trying to say –'

‘Did she make each moment more special than this?' Ginger broke in.

Anne struggled to remain still as the redhead pushed her fingers deeper. The intrusion was divine, more exciting than she wanted to acknowledge, and would have been enough to inspire a release if Ginger had simply tormented her with that pleasure alone.

But, seemingly driven by a desire to make Anne's release enormous, Ginger slipped her free hand beneath Anne's buttocks. An instant before it happened, Anne realised what the woman was planning to do but by that point it was too late to resist.

Ginger touched the tip of one finger against the tight ring of Anne's anus.

As the muscle was tested, its puckered circle lightly teased by Ginger's fingertip, Anne knew there was no way she could say anything that might stop the woman. She could only bask in the heady afterglow of her release as the redhead urged deeper.

‘That was . . .' She paused, not sure there was a word to describe the elation she had just enjoyed. Ginger's finger remained deep inside her backside and its presence continued to be horribly arousing. ‘That was –'

‘It's not finished yet,' Ginger said flatly.

Without giving Anne the chance to recover, quickly returning her tongue and fingers to the split of Anne's sex, she worked against the lips with renewed frenzy.

Anne tried to say that her body couldn't stand any more, and that she needed to rest, but it was clear that Ginger wasn't going to listen to such arguments.
Also, although the muscles of her sex were tingling from the effects of too much pleasure, she couldn't resist the idea of succumbing to one final orgasm. Ginger's mouth and teasing fingers were proving to be a revelation that eased the pain of no longer being with Lucy. Anne continued to believe that the redhead wasn't as gifted a lover as the brunette, but she couldn't deny that Ginger was managing to satisfy her.

That thought was reinforced when Ginger pushed the tip of a second ringer into her rectum. Her anus felt over-stretched and full, the sensation increasing when the swell of Ginger's knuckle pushed through the ring of muscle.

As the tip squirmed deeper and, as she revelled in the penetration of Ginger's teasing, Anne caught herself cresting on the brink of a climax. The pleasure was immense, a delight she hadn't anticipated, and she wanted to give herself to the moment totally. But, rather than simply allowing the joy to rush through her, she found herself wishing Lucy was there. It was only when she imagined the brunette's face, and thought of how much better this would be if it had been Lucy taking her through these realms of discovery, that she was finally able to enjoy her release.

A torrent of pleasure erupted from between her legs, racking her body with joy and sending her muscles into paroxysms. Ginger's fingers were forced from both her holes but, even without that stimulus, the pleasure continued to flow and her climactic shriek echoed from the stone walls. She pushed herself back in the chair, no longer caring if it ran the risk of collapsing beneath her, and only intent on savouring every blistering rush of delight that was scorched through her hole. A rush of glorious wetness poured from her sex and Ginger raised her head, her triumphant smile plastered with musk.

Something about her grin made Anne think of predatory animals cornering their prey. The observation wasn't unsettling and only came to her as her thoughts whirled idly back to some semblance of normality. Panting for air, shivering from the strength of her orgasm, she repeatedly whispered her thanks as Ginger placed a kiss against each of her breasts.

‘Do you feel rewarded?' Ginger asked.

Anne nodded, blushing bashfully. She started to squeeze her legs together, suddenly feeling as though some modesty was called for now they were moving away from intimacy and returning to the banalities of conversation. Ginger kept her hands on her thighs, the tips of her fingers perpetually teasing Anne's hole, and preventing her from concealing herself.

‘If that's the reward pony-girls are usually given,' Anne stammered, ‘I'd happily do it again.'

Ginger's smile faded to an ominous solemnity. ‘Now that we have an understanding, perhaps you can tell me where she is?'

Anne swallowed, her nerves returning in an instantaneous rush. ‘Lucy? You want Lucy?'

‘Yes.'

She shook her head. ‘I don't know where she is. We separated. She told me to –'

‘Where is she?' Ginger interrupted. The thin patience that had been in her voice was now gone as she made her strident demand. ‘Are you going to tell me?'

‘I can't tell you,' Anne insisted. ‘I honestly don't know.'

The redhead's fingers remained in contact with Anne's sex but, rather than continuing to tease lightly, she now pinched Anne's clitoris between her thumb and forefinger. The sudden pain was enormous, perversely exciting and effortlessly wringing
another orgasm from Anne's hole. She thrashed against the rickety chair, briefly fretting that the insubstantial wood might collapse beneath her. That worry was only a secondary consideration, overshadowed by the dread that came when she saw the malevolent glint in Ginger's eyes.

‘Fair enough,' Ginger grunted. ‘If I can't make you talk by being nice to you, I can show you the other half of my ability, the part that makes me more special than that bitch Lucy.'

Sweltering with delicious pain, caught in the throes of a response she would never have believed or imagined, Anne barely heard. Ginger continued to squeeze her sensitive flesh, prising brilliant bolts of delight from the centre of her sex.

‘Lucy and I can sense exactly what arouses a person,' Ginger confided. ‘We both share that ability and, I guess, that's why we're both Donald's favourite. But my talent is better. I don't only know how best to please a person. I also know how to make their suffering truly memorable.'

Anne's stomach churned with dread. She started to speak, not sure what she could say and doubting she could convince the manic redhead that she genuinely didn't know of Lucy's whereabouts, but the words refused to come out.

With lightning speed, Ginger lowered her head. Her mouth returned to the sopping hole of Anne's sex but this time, rather than lapping and guzzling wetly, she placed her teeth around the pulse of Anne's clitoris.

The threat of pain was enormous and horrifying.

Anne held herself rigid, sure that she was on the verge of enduring an orgasm brought on from pure terror. The muscles in her thighs went rigid and, except for the frantic pounding of her heartbeat, she
remained absolutely motionless. She could feel the redhead's breath against her inner thighs: darkly warming and reminding her that the rest of her body had turned frigid with anticipation. Ginger's titian curls tickled her lower stomach but Anne didn't dare respond to the light, almost sensuous caress.

Instead of biting, instead of closing her teeth as her posture had indicated she might, Ginger trilled the tip of her tongue against Anne's clitoris.

The surge of pleasure was stronger than she had expected.

The orgasm rushed through her with such powerful force Anne screamed. Her cry echoed hollowly from the stone walls of their cellar hideaway and returned to her in a dwindling frenzy of elation. The climax had been so strong that, when consciousness returned, she was briefly puzzled as to where she was and what she was doing. The only thing that stood out in her mind was the discovery that she had found her position in life and, now she knew where she belonged, nothing was going to stop her from living her life how she wanted.

Recollection of her predicament came easily back when Ginger raised her head and graced her with a grim smile. ‘I truly can make your suffering memorable,' she hissed. The words were made wetter by a smear of Anne's excitement. She watched the redhead dry her lips on the back of her hand before asking, ‘Do you want to experience that suffering? Or are you going to tell me where I'll find her?'

Taking a deep breath, struggling to say the words and sure she would be punished for her ignorance, Anne whispered, ‘I don't know where she is. I honestly don't.'

Ginger shook her head. ‘That's not the answer I wanted,' she said dourly. Lowering her head and
baring her teeth, she added, ‘Perhaps I need to make you more aware of my need for this information.'

A sound at the doorway made Ginger turn and Anne saw they were being interrupted by a fresh-faced young woman dressed in the harness of a pony-girl. Her panic at being disturbed was only fleeting, and assuaged when she saw the apologetic expression on the pony-girl's face.