That Night

A 1,500-word short story recounting a forbidden encounter between two women. Contains explicit material; intended for mature audiences only.


She came to me when he was asleep. She loved him, and she would never intentionally hurt him.

But I was enamored of her. Her art; her words; her spirit and her kindness. They sated something in me like nothing had done in so long.

The rain was pouring as if God were angry. Perhaps He was. Perhaps He was angry with me. In any case, I opened the door for her and ushered her inside, relishing the way her coat dripped against my skin as she entered.

I closed the door softly. Lightning illuminated the window beside the door; then thunder shook the house. We stood there staring at each other, no more than two feet separating us.

“Thank you for coming,” I said quietly.

“I shouldn’t have,” she replied, her voice even softer than mine. “But I wanted to.”

“You did?” I inquired. In a way, I knew it was true, but at the same time I was surprised.

“You know I did,” she answered, scolding me a little with her tone.

“Can I – can I take your coat?” I asked, my voice breaking.


She shrugged out of the wet coat and handed it over to me. I carried it to one of the pegs by the door, trying to resist the urge to bring it to my nose and inhale its scent. I had never smelled her before. I wanted to smell her.

I walked back to her, fighting the temptation to reach out and twirl my finger through her damp red locks. Her pale throat was shining with rainwater. I wanted nothing more than to kiss it gently.

“What have you come for?” I asked, almost afraid to hear her reply.

“You know the answer to that, too.”

“Are you sure?”

My voice was barely audible.

“I’ve thought about it,” she added. “I’m sure.”

“Come into the living room,” I said, reaching out for her hand. I didn’t know if she would take it – but she put her fingers through mine without hesitation.

I’d had a recurring fantasy lately that involved having her while she was seated on my sofa. It she was down for it – and it seemed like she was – I was going to make that fantasy a reality. Right now.

I led her by the hand towards the sofa, stopping just in front of it and turning to face her. “Can I take off your clothes?” I inquired. The fear and anxiety were suddenly leaving me. A feeling of control was slowly seeping through my veins. I’d been cold before she arrived, but now my skin was flushed and hot.

“Yes,” she breathed.

She was wearing a sleeveless black dress that contrasted perfectly with her red hair and white skin. It halted halfway down her calves, exposing her shapely legs and her bright red stilettos.

I stepped up to her, circling my arms around her back. That simple motion felt so good, I breathed a sigh of relief against her mouth. I pulled her close, pressing our breasts together, searching for the zipper of her dress. I found it quickly, then brought it down, moving away from her a little to let the dress fall to the floor.

I immediately brought her back to me, reaching around for the fastening of her bra. I unhooked it, pulled it away from her breasts, and dropped it down on top of the dress.

I looked into her eyes for a long moment, working my fingers through the wet hair at the back of her neck, her warm breath against my lips. I leaned in to kiss her, feeling the slickness escaping from between my legs. I reached down with my right hand to cup her breast, smiling through the kiss as she moaned into my mouth.

She was still wearing her stilettos, but that didn’t matter. I guided her firmly to the sofa, lowering her down to sit against the cushions. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of her panties, looking directly into her eyes. She gazed at me unblinkingly.

Without taking my eyes away from hers, I began to pull her panties down. I brought them to her knees, then let them fall on top of her bright red shoes.

She was completely exposed to me. It was time to live my fantasy.

I kissed her right knee, reveling in the tiny shivers caused by the pressure of my lips. Then I kissed my way slowly up the inside of her soft, pale thigh. I listened to the changes in her breathing. It was getting faster, sharper.

I laid my hands on her hips, pulling her towards my face. I licked her thigh, then bit it gently. Her fingers were twined in my hair.

I paused in front of her pussy lips, closing my eyes and inhaling her scent. I’d been longing for this moment. I touched the tip of my nose to her slit, breathing deep. Every woman smelled so different, and it was always impossible to describe. Always some subtle combination of sweetness and spice.

Her combination was perfect. I just knelt there in front of her for a few moments, her fingers massaging my head, my eyes shut tight. Then I leaned forward and kissed her moist lips.

The taste was even better than the smell.

I ran my tongue slowly along her slit, making her shudder as if with a bitter wind. I hadn’t even separated her lips yet, and her juices were already leaking into my mouth.

She was enjoying this as much as I was.

I ran my tongue in two more lines: top to bottom, then bottom to top. I opened her lips with my thumbs, taking one long lick, tasting everything at once. It almost sent me into sensory overload. I gripped her hips and pulled her against my face, shoving my tongue inside her, desperate to please her. She pulled my hair and I grinned.

I slid my tongue in and out, drinking her nectar, making her shake. Then I lapped at her, slowly, quickly, slowly again, ending at her clit with each lick, pressing it firmly with the tip of my tongue.

She was dripping down onto the sofa, oozing onto my face, grinding violently against my mouth. She was losing herself to me in this saturated, empty moment.

I fastened my lips around her hot, swollen bud, sucking it fiercely, sliding three fingers inside her and pumping with vigor. She pressed her back against the cushions, pushing herself down on my face, flowing quickly into my mouth. The muscles of her thighs were beginning to clench and spasm. I sucked harder, pumped faster.

Then – she came. So hard. It was like a tidal wave. It was like the thunder that was still shaking the house. She clutched my head with her thighs, locking it in place, making sure I couldn’t get away. Not that I would have wanted to.

I withdrew my fingers from her opening, but I kept licking her while she rode the steep waves of her orgasm, up and down, until she finally crested the last swell and ended up at the bottom. Her thighs released my head, and I unearthed my face from her hot, soaking pussy, laying my cheek wearily against her soft thigh.

When she recovered a little, she rubbed my back, then massaged my head. “Let’s go to your bed,” she said.

“Do you have time?” I asked quietly, not really wanting to move away from the pillow of her smooth leg.

“I do,” she replied. “And, since this will be the only time – I want to make sure you get what you need.”

She took my hands in hers, pulling me off the floor. I crawled up her body and sat on her lap, laying my head against her chest. I could feel her heartbeat.

She rocked me for a few minutes, running her fingers through my hair. Then she tilted my face to kiss my wet lips, sliding her warm tongue into my mouth. She breathed into me, and my heart expanded.

“Bring me to your bed,” she whispered, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, the tip of my nose.

I nodded silently, then climbed off her lap. I reached down for her hand, pulled her up beside me, then led her back towards the dark corridors which enveloped the small bedroom where I would spend the remaining hours of our last – and only – night together.

Lightning flashed; thunder cracked.

I wondered what God was saying.




Thanks for reading . . .




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