Dear Abby (4 page)

"
Mmm
, chocolate,"
Ixazaluoh
murmurs.
"Food for the gods, you know." She kisses and nips at the side of
Abby's mouth, where she must have spilt some.

Abby, emboldened, flexes her fingers and curls
her tongue against the back of
Ixazaluoh's
teeth, and
that's when she feels the nametag, hard and crisp against her palm.

Abby jerks back, drops her hands behind her
back like a guilty child.

"Oh, god, I can't," she says.

Ixazaluoh
frowns,
and Abby realizes that she is shorter than
Ixazaluoh
.
That
Ixazaluoh
is looking down at her through
half-mast eyelids and gorgeous lashes. Abby wants to tilt her head up, to offer
up her neck like a submissive wolf bitch, and so she does the exact opposite.
She can smell the sweat coming off of her own cleavage.

There is a heavy, uncomfortable silence.

"You're an
employee
, you might
get
fired
," Abby clarifies.

"So your objection is to my employment,
and not me?"
Ixazaluoh
asks. A smile begins to
bloom in the corner of her mouth and, oh, god, Abby wants to
eat it
.

"And to the fact that I'm, you know… a
tourist.
A guest.
I don’t want to… I mean, this sort
of means I have…"

"Power over me,"
Ixazaluoh
clarifies.

"Yeah."

Ixazaluoh's
smile begins to
bloom in the other corner of her mouth as well, until the two sides have
touched and her grin near splits her face. "Thoughtful of you,"
Ixazaluoh
says. "I appreciate it. But you hold no
power over me. I do what I do because I want to do it."

"Right.
Okay," Abby
says. "But… just, I don't… I just want to be clear: I'm not going to pay
you for sex." It is a struggle to say out loud. It makes her feel guilty.

"Am I asking you to pay?"
Ixazaluoh
replies, dark eyes shining in amusement.

"Well, no, but… I don't want you to… to
have
to…"

"Abby,"
Ixazaluoh
says
,
raising a hand to cup her palm over Abby's
rambling. "Do you know who
Ixazaluoh
is? Whose
name I have?"

Abby shakes her head, no, and the feel of
Ixazaluoh's
warm, dry skin brushing lightly against her
lips makes every hair Abby possesses stand up and start to beg.

"
Ixazaluoh
is
the Maya goddess of water and weaving. She is a woman's goddess and she loves
women. I am named well."
Ixazaluoh
smirks.
"So please, let me do as my namesake would and allow me to taste your
waters."

It is the hokiest line anyone has ever fed
Abby, and it absolutely
works
.

Abby feels her eyes slip closed and her head
drop back without any conscious thought from her brain, and decides that's just
fine. The pile of linens behind her is soft and when
Ixazaluoh
guides her back against them, she just sighs and relaxes as much as she can
while still staying on her feet.
Ixazaluoh's
fingers
pluck gently at the straps of her bathing suit. The nylon pulls and catches
against Abby's dry skin, delicious and slow.

Ixazaluoh
peels Abby.

The gauzy wrap, the springy bathing suit;
over her breasts, a slow slide down her less-than-flat stomach, a kiss on each
sweet roll, over her hips and then a drop from her thighs, like suicidal base-jumper.
With the fabric goes Abby's fear, her shame,
her
worry.

"Feels good," Abby whispers as
Ixazaluoh
scratches just the very tips of her fingernails
through the sandy curls around Abby's slit.

"It does,"
Ixazaluoh
agrees. Abby opens her eyes and looks down on her not-goddess and is only
partially surprised to see that she's somehow shed her shorts and underwear
without Abby noticing.

She is crouched on the ground, her sandals
on, her shirt unbuttoned and spread open, her bra—a front clasper—hanging
loose. Abby brushes her knuckles across
Ixazaluoh's
temple, all the way to the back of her head where the elastic is straining
against the piles of black, black curls that
Ixazaluoh
has pinned back. She pulls at it, carefully, so as not to tug, and is rewarded
with a spill of fragrant silk across her fingers. Abby groans. It feels good.

"This is why I like women,"
Ixazaluoh
smirks.
"So soft.
So kind."

Abby chuckles, and then gasps as her belly
bounces against
Ixazaluoh's
cheek. Skin to skin, finally,
and it feels like someone has rubbed liquid electricity between them, wherever
they touch.
Hands on her thighs, spreading them gently.

"Now who's being clichéd?" Abby
asks, but it comes out more like a startled exhale, because that's when
Ixazaluoh
presses the cool tip of her nose against Abby's
mons
and kisses her right on the clit.

"Still me,"
Ixazaluoh
says around her little mouthful. "Why?" Each word smears against skin
and Abby's knees start to shake. "Want me to do it fast?
Hard?
I can fuck you." And then she bites Abby's outer
labia, just one side, hard.

The noise that crawls out of Abby's throat is
possibly supersonic. Abby shudders so hard that she nearly tumbles sideways off
the pile of tablecloths.
Ixazaluoh
pushes her
shoulders between Abby's legs, getting one knee around her neck and using her
own body to hold Abby upright, open, right where she wants her.

The air in the cupboard is stifling,
reeks
of detergent and cloth, sun cream and plantains,
chocolate and salty woman. Abby's never been so fucking turned on in her life
and she's barely been touched yet. Her lungs seem to have shrunk, she can't get
enough air, but that's fine because her gash feels enormous, greedy and
opening, unfolding petal by petal like an orchid.
Or a
carnivorous pitcher plant.

"No, slow," she begs. "Slow.
Gentle. Please."

"Yes,"
Ixazaluoh
says, and kisses the hurt, laves it with her tongue and then, in the interest
of symmetry, kisses the other side of Abby's labia too. "Time enough for
claiming later."

Soft and gentle, a little lick against her
clit like a sweet kitten, and Abby has to jam her mouth against the back of one
of her hands, the one not buried in
Ixazaluoh's
hair,
to keep the thought, the giggle in. Abby's read porn, of course she has,
every
woman has. She's even read some of the girl-on-girl
stuff, which is probably where the ridiculous image of a kitten comes from.

Ixazaluoh
is not fluffy or
sweet. Her eyes are not large and wet, her claws not sharpened, her tongue not
rough. She is not biddable or distractible. She is not trainable. She is not
tame.

So
Ixazaluoh
goes
slowly, taking time between each damp foray between Abby's pussy lips, her
fingers alternately massaging and squeezing Abby's ass, her breasts, the soft
inside of her thighs. She goes slowly, but not tentatively, not weak. Her
fingers will leave bruises and Abby almost comes from just the thought of them
peaking
out from the edges of her bathing suit tomorrow,
from imagining the looks on the faces of the brash, selfish young men around
the pool who strut like peacocks for the young skinny things in bikinis and
ignore her lush, mature body.
Someone fucked me,
those bruises will tell
them.
Someone thinks I'm attractive, so screw you.

Ixazaluoh
eases off with her
mouth but pinches both of Abby's nipples, holding down hard, until Abby is
squirming more from the pain than approaching climax. When
Ixazaluoh
lets go, blood rushes into the abused points and Abby
howls
into the
skin on the back of her own hand.

It doesn't take long after that. Oh, no.
Ixazaluoh
buries her whole face against Abby's cunt, diving
in like a parched woman. She sucks on Abby's clit, pulling it between her lips,
accidentally scraping her teeth along the firm skin and that's it, that's it,
Abby's tensing up, bare toes curling against the dusty concrete floor, fingers
yanking hard in
Ixazaluoh
hair, skin
screaming
.

The meaty thrust of a tongue and Abby is
wrecked.

Ixazaluoh's
mouth stays against
her as she shivers and nearly falls over, panting like she's just
run
the world's most debauched marathon, every single pore
tingling and calling out,
again, again!
  One of
Ixazaluoh's
hand pets across Abby's stomach, pressing down to gauge the flutter of her
muscles through her skin, and Abby opens her eyes, wondering where the second hand
has gone.

Oh,
she thinks when she finds it.
Oh, fuck,
that's hot.

Ixazaluoh
, still crouched, has
hot three of her own fingers shoved so far up her own pussy that there is a
string of lubricant drooling down the sweet rounds of her bottom, dripping onto
the concrete.

Womanly waters,
Abby thinks,
dazedly.

She slides her knee off of
Ixazaluoh's
shoulder, releasing her hold, giving her lover
more room to maneuver her arm. She lets go of
Ixazaluoh's
hair, bends double and kisses her forehead to apologize for tugging, and stays
there, cheek to cheek,
watching.

Ixazaluoh
is so close to
coming, Abby can tell. Her whole chest has gone red, and its' crawling up her
throat, blooming in her cheeks. Her lips are swollen and her chin shines, and
her eyelids are half closed and she looks like a fucking
angel
, never
mind a goddess, and Abby did this, Abby was the one that did this to her.

Pride swells against her sternum and slides
down into her pussy, making the abused lips tingle and plump with renewed
interest. A thrum of possessive glee vibrates up Abby's spine.

"God, you're gorgeous, fucking
look
at you
," Abby pants into her hair. "Go on,
do
it. I want to see.  I've never seen another woman come."

Ixazaluoh
raises her face,
offers it up, and Abby can't deny her this, can't deny her anything, it seems,
so she sips the cool breath from her lips, tastes salt and effort, and sweet
chocolate.

"Oh, oh,"
Ixazaluoh
breathes into her mouth. "I'll teach you, I'll teach you, my dear,
dear."

"Why me?"
Abby pants, running
her hands through
Ixazaluoh's
hair, petting,
reassuring herself that her not-goddess is still there, that isn't trying to
run,
wants
to stay close.

"Because,"
Ixazaluoh
pants, her shoulders jerking under Abby's touch, her eyebrows screwed close
together.

"There are other hotter women
here," Abby protests, bends to kiss the top of
Ixazaluoh's
head.

Ixazaluoh
grunts with surprise
at the tender touch, eyes flying open and mouth swinging into a perfect circle
as she tenses all over and comes. It is beautiful,
Ixazaluoh
is beautiful, and Abby drops down to her knees to kiss her not-goddess through
the aftershocks.

"I'm not looking for hot,"
Ixazaluoh
whispers into the skin of Abby's neck, once she
has caught her breath. She presses a nipping kiss on the pale flesh and Abby
trembles all over. She could come again, she thinks, if
Ixazaluoh
just licked her clit some more. "I was looking for caring. I was looking
for someone who
saw
the world, not just looked at it.
Someone
who wanted to see the
real.
I was looking for someone who
saw
me.
I was looking for someone exactly like you, Abigail."

Abby has to kiss her after that. It is slick,
and warm, and wonderful and she could stay there forever, she really could. Only
she's not young, not by a long shot, and her knees begin to protest and as the
concrete radiates cool air she begins to shiver, the sweat evaporating off her
skin. They stand, and
Ixazaluoh
uses a napkin to
lovingly wipe all the moisture from the inside of Abby's thighs, from her own
chin, from between her fingers.

Abby wishes, just for a second, that she was
brave enough to try to lick those fingers. She wonders what another woman tastes
like, if she'll taste the same as Abby does, but she's never done it before.
And then
Ixazaluoh
is clean and it's too late.

A pang of regret flitters along the underside
of her skin, but Abby doesn't let it show. She lets
Ixazaluoh
help her back into her bathing suit, a reversed peel made all the harder by how
the nylon catches on her damp skin. She buttons
Ixazaluoh's
shirt,
smoothes
her collar, then finds the elastic
and helps
Ixazaluoh
bundle her curls back into the
appropriate bun.