Hot Pursuit (6 page)

Lucy's smile lightened briefly and, if she had thought she was being laughed at, Anne would have walked away from the table there and then. Because she only got the impression that she and the brunette were sharing something special, she joined her amusement.

Lucy sipped at the coffee and grimaced with disgust before pushing it aside. ‘I was playing watersports the last time I tasted something like that,' she grumbled.

Anne smiled without understanding exactly what had been said. She watched the woman reach for the eclair and slowly devour the sticky, sweet treat. Her fingers became daubed with smudges of cream and chocolate-coloured icing as she pushed the last morsel into her mouth. After studying her hands, Lucy held one cream-smeared thumb under Anne's nose.

The silent instruction was obvious.

With hardly a glance to see if anyone was watching, Anne placed her lips around the brunette's thumb and sucked the cream away. It was a shockingly intimate act and, while she had thought her excitement was abating as she waited for Lucy to finish the meal, Anne realised nothing could have been further from the truth. The sensation of having the woman's thumb inside her mouth – the humbling excitement of tasting cream and then flesh – sent her to a point where she felt sure orgasm was inevitable.

‘Should we go and book that room?' the brunette suggested, pulling her fingers away.

Anne didn't bother answering. She simply climbed from her seat and followed her new friend out of the restaurant. There was a motel attached to the service station and she hurriedly secured a double room for one night. She didn't dare meet the eyes of the man behind the reception desk as she made the booking, sure he would see her lecherous intentions if he
caught her gaze. Filling out false details on the registration card, paying in cash to hide any trace of the transaction, she scrawled a fake signature beneath her hurriedly assumed identity and accepted a key on an oversized fob.

As soon as she had closed the motel room's door, shutting the rest of the world away, her doubts came back with renewed force. She knew she had acted impetuously, and foolishly, and decided what she was thinking of doing was wrong and ill-thought-through and . . .

The thought was never completed because Lucy chose that moment to kiss her. Anne's face was cupped between a pair of soft hands and warm, feminine lips brushed against hers. She half-expected to be dominated and feel the inquisitive exploration of a tongue intruding in her mouth but this exchange was far more gentle than she had anticipated. The sensitive kiss inspired a hunger that demanded satisfaction.

‘You've never been with a woman before, have you?'

Meekly, Anne shook her head. In her imagination she had done this a million times but, as far as life experiences went, it was one of too many that she had never achieved.

‘Have you ever been with a man?'

Straight away she thought of Sean. His handsome face, smug grin and aura of successful banality were frighteningly easy to recall. Thankfully, she thought, they were just as easy to dismiss. ‘I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking.'

Lucy shrugged the trench coat from her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. She stepped back into their embrace and Anne found herself holding a beautiful, naked woman. Hesitant at first, then with
growing confidence, she caressed and touched unclothed skin. She stroked her fingertips over one buttock, against an exposed thigh, and then across a bare stomach. This time, when their lips met, Anne could also feel the swell of breasts brushing against her blouse. Her sex muscles clenched in a spasm of greedy need and she wondered if it would be possible to orgasm without doing anything more than simply kissing.

‘Why don't you join me on the bed?'

For an instant Anne had almost forgotten there was a bed behind her. She glanced around the pleasant yet unremarkable room, saw a pair of neatly made twin beds, and stepped gingerly toward the nearest one. The brunette followed, her naked presence constantly twisting daggers of excitement through Anne's stomach. As one they sat down, and Anne allowed Lucy to start teasing open the buttons on her blouse. Watching feminine fingers unfasten her clothes, Anne felt almost light-headed when she realised what she was doing. Her collar was undone, then the three buttons that exposed her cleavage and revealed the lacy edges of her bra. Apprehensive, she glanced into the brunette's face and was won over by a smile of encouraging approval.

‘Are you going to lie down?' Lucy asked.

Pushing aside the last of her doubts, Anne lay back on the bed and allowed her new friend to take control. She wanted to think of it as an act of blind submission but in reality she knew it was nothing so dramatic. She and the brunette had an understanding; this intimacy was being offered in exchange for a meal and a change of clothes; and Anne knew that it wasn't really submission. The way that Lucy delicately undressed her – delivering a gentle kiss to each freshly exposed patch of skin – couldn't properly be called submission.

The blouse was slipped from her shoulders then her bra was removed. The air grew thick and arid when her naked breasts were exposed but Anne was determined not to let nerves get the better of her. Every inch of bare flesh crawled with the electric excitement of exposure and she found herself repeatedly looking to Lucy for reassurance.

Wordlessly, the woman cupped one breast and rolled her thumb across the stiffening nipple. It was only a subtle gesture, nothing more spectacular than the way she had been slowly stripping clothes, but it crippled Anne with a sudden rush of desire. She was overwhelmed by such an urgent need to end the foreplay and consummate what they had begun that it was a struggle not to pull Lucy into her embrace and writhe against her.

With a knowing grin, the brunette dropped her hand and started to work on the fly of Anne's jeans. She continued methodically and unhurriedly with a self-satisfied air that bordered on being smug. Anne wondered how the woman could remain so detached while she teetered on the brink of an unprecedented climax. When her zip was pulled open she felt the tremor of each metal tooth separating. Glancing down, seeing a stranger's hand so close to the crease of her loins, she struggled to remember if she had ever done anything as bold or as daring as allowing this situation to happen.

‘Relax,' Lucy cooed softly. With practised ease, she began to coax the jeans down Anne's hips.

Anne tried to obey the instruction, struggling to kick off her trainers before they interrupted the seduction of being undressed. She started to reach for her panties, intending to slide them down, but the brunette stopped her.

Briefly, Anne considered removing the panties anyway, then thought better of the decision. She was
mildly embarrassed that the crotch would be dark and stained with the arousal that had been growing between her legs since Lucy approached her in the restaurant. But, reminding herself of the intimacy they were sharing, she realised the woman would probably expect some such sign of excitement. Consoling herself with the thought that the pants provided a modicum of discretion, Anne kept them on as the brunette climbed on the bed and lay beside her.

A flood of doubts briefly threatened to resurface. ‘I . . . I'm not sure . . .'

Lucy silenced her with a kiss. She leant over Anne's body, their bare breasts touching while their lips met and melded. Still the brunette used no force or domination and, if it hadn't been for the knowledge that this was simply a part of an agreed transaction, Anne could have believed it was more than mere sex. She could have easily believed Lucy was making love to her.

They touched; Anne anxious to explore the strange curves of another woman; Lucy seeming determined to excite with her intimate caresses. Fingers teased the swell of her breasts, stroked the rigid thrusts of her nipples, and pushed her to the brink of excitement. She lay beneath Lucy, revelling in the discovery of the woman's silk-soft skin and savouring the exquisite sensation of bare, female flesh.

‘You have a very attractive body,' Lucy murmured.

Anne blushed, not sure if the words were being said to make her feel more comfortable, or for some other benefit that she hadn't yet perceived. There was no time to dwell on the idea that Lucy might be flattering her because her mind was a rush of too many delicious possibilities. She stiffened when the woman started to kiss her neck and chest, shocked that she seemed to be placing her lips lower each time. Lucy's
tongue brushed her stomach, the feathery trail of her fringe tickling Anne's abdomen, and then her mouth was resting against the haven of her sex.

Anne swallowed thickly, still not sure she should be submitting herself to this perverse pleasure. It was only when Lucy licked the crotch of her panties, thrilling her with an unprecedented burst of excitement, that she finally relaxed. Lucy repositioned herself, placing a leg on either side of Anne's body as she buried her face between her thighs. There was still nothing hurried about her kisses – she continued to deliver them with painstaking slow confidence – but Anne realised she was now helpless. Every stroke of the woman's tongue against her gusset racked her body with pre-climactic shivers. The fetid heat at her cleft was molten silver – burning brightly and flowing fluidly – and she knew her orgasm would soon be inevitable. When Lucy teased the crotch of her panties to one side, then stroked a daring, dark kiss against the full split of her sex, Anne thought the pinnacle of pleasure was almost on top of her.

She thrashed from side to side, wanting to tell Lucy the sensations were too intense, and more than she could cope with, but the fear that she might stop made her remain silent. Gritting her teeth, basking in the torturous sensations of too much joy, she savoured every sweet kiss and prepared herself for the mounting explosion.

Slowly, Lucy pushed her buttocks toward Anne's face.

The woman's cleft was neatly shaved, save for a thin line of dark curls that pointed up from the top of her sex. The flushed pink lips were decorated with identical rows of steel rings, and they jangled together musically as Lucy swayed her hips.

Cresting on a wave of arousal, sure she would soon be basking in the glow of orgasm, Anne thought she
had never seen a more exciting sight. As she continued to lick, Lucy was pushing her backside closer and Anne knew she would only have to raise her head slightly if she wanted to reciprocate the woman's intimate kisses. Not thinking about the rights and wrongs of her drives, only governed by the urge to experience every pleasure this moment had to offer, Anne pushed her head up and pressed her tongue against the woman's sex.

‘Anne!' Lucy gasped.

She hesitated, wondering if she had done something wrong, behaved inappropriately, or offended the woman in some way. Her heart pounded frantically and she cursed herself for acting on such a libidinous impulse. It was only when she glanced between their bodies, and saw Lucy's indulgent smile, that she realised the exclamation had been one of approval.

Brushing the last of her reservations aside, she pushed her face back to the woman's sex and plunged her tongue deep between the labia. The experience was a revelation of all the joys she had ever missed. The sweet scent of feminine musk; the slippery sensation of pussy lips sliding against her mouth; and the rich taste of arousal, all carried her quickly to a realm of unimagined bliss.

Lucy continued to tease Anne's sex, her tongue sliding over the pulsing nub of her clitoris and occasionally darting inside the sensitive haven. But Anne knew her principal pleasure was coming from those kisses she was giving rather than the ones she received. The velvety caress of pussy lips brushing against her mouth, and the metallic tickle of the rings that hung from Lucy's labia, all combined to make the discovery overwhelming. Even when Lucy pushed her face closer, took Anne's clitoris between her lips
and trilled her tongue against the pulsing bud, Anne knew she was receiving more stimulation from the sensation of being allowed to lick the woman's sex.

She tried to imagine what it was going to be like to bring the woman to orgasm, bathe in the explosion of her musk, and then she quickly shut the idea away. Acutely aware of her own responses, Anne knew that dwelling on that thought would easily carry her beyond the brink of climax. She could already feel herself hurtling toward an inevitable explosion, her pleasure exacerbated by Lucy's teasing tongue and the exotic, forbidden flavour of the woman's sex. But she was anxious to savour every moment without rushing the experience.

Gently, Lucy pulled herself from Anne's reach.

Anne tried to follow, craning her neck and trying to sit up, but Lucy seemed skilled in the art of controlling those beneath her. Raising her backside high, pushing her face lower, she treated Anne's pussy to a series of penetrating kisses that made her relent. A barrage of blistering delight rushed through her sex muscles, the thrill of encroaching orgasm burnt every inch of flesh, and then she was screaming with the unbridled pleasure of her climax.

The orgasm came in a splendid rush, an explosion of bliss that left her sated, elated, anxious for more and frightened by what she had done. The confusion was enough to leave her dizzy and she hugged herself tightly on the bed. When she realised she was lying there alone she glanced nervously around the room and saw Lucy was standing by the window. One corner of the curtains had been pulled aside and her shoulders were rigid with previously unnoticed tension. Anne couldn't decide what the woman might be studying because the only thing she could see outside the window was a large, old-fashioned car – an
antiquated jalopy with running-boards and the spare tyre mounted beside the bonnet – parked outside a neighbouring motel room.

Anne took a moment to catch her breath before speaking. ‘What are you looking for?' she asked eventually.

‘No one,' Lucy said, quickly dropping the curtain. She flexed a terse smile which was clearly an attempt to conceal something.