The Care and Feeding of Griffins by R. Lee Smith

by the swift slickening of her sex.  How completely her oils covered her fingers, how wonderfully new it made her feel as she slipped one inside herself.  She tried to imagine, as she gently moved, how it would feel to have to man with her.  His hands on her body.  His weight covering her.  To have a man inside her in that unimaginable way …the thought had a power over her that quickened her pulse and set her blood to burning.  Her breath coarsened, escaped just once as a whimper, and then was locked up tight again.  Aisling stirred, peeping; she laid a hand on him soothingly while her other continued to coax new pleasures from her core.
    A man.  A lover.  Her fingers were no real substitute, she knew.  She ’d felt desire before, felt it hard as rock pressed against her thigh as she danced with boyfriends, felt it harder still beneath her hand as she’d huddled, kissing, on one couch or another.  No one who’d ever tried to ease her into bed would ever believe she could feel this excitement, this longing, as she lost herself to imaginings.  She bit her lip, pressing a second finger to the slippery core of her, squirming a little at the exquisite strain such touches provoked.  Her thumb rubbed twice at the sensitive nub crowning her sex and then she was lost in that swirling blush of pure pleasure.
    Taryn lay still, letting all there was wash over her in an unhurried tide.  As it ebbed, she rubbed again, expertly keeping herself in the currents of sensual sensation.  There was a second bursting for her —paler than the first, perhaps, but sweetly lingering—and then the righteous weariness that always followed.  She sighed, still stroking longingly at the damp proof of her climax.  Thoughts of John intruded for the first time since leaving—
    (Earth)
    —Oregon.  He’d called her frigid.  She’d heard that before, of course, but it still hurt a little.  She didn’t think she was frigid.  She loved the way she felt right now, so warm, so…melted.  She wanted to know how it felt for real.  She wanted that man’s weight, the feel of male substance entering and joining with her.  She wanted it even now, as she swam in a fog of fulfillment, she wanted to know how it felt to give even more.
    But she was waiting.
    For who, she didn’t know.  For someone she loved, that was the answer that felt honest.  And it would be a good long while before she could even look for that someone now that she was in Arcadia raising griffins.  What a horribly depressing thought.
    Taryn rolled onto her side again, wrapping both arms around Aisling and feeling her eyes slide shut, cemented with the glowy sleep that she had known would follow her secret touches. 
    There must be things worth waiting for.  And surely love was among the best of them.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    12.  Virgin Offering
     
    S he heard the voices whispering from the shadows, but it was not until the first touches came that she was able to make out words.  She thought there were two of them, but it was hard to tell.  They were talking at the same time, finishing one another’s thoughts in the way of twins or long-married spouses.  They spoke quickly, urgently, but the only emotion that came through their leaf-dry whisper was one of desperate happiness.  Just two old-marrieds, overjoyed to see her, come to whisper at her in the night as they petted her limp arms and legs.
    “ Long it has been, yes, and well you honor us—”
    “ You honor us, yes, as in ancient times, when they would come—”
    “ Come, yes, and cum for us.”
    They touched her, their hands light as feathers and cold as ice stroking up and down her limbs.  She couldn’t tell if they were men or women—the whispers were androgynous, the touches too light to take on gender—but she was certain she was naked where they were touching her and she wasn’t sure how that had happened.  She tried to open her eyes, but didn’t