There is a photograph, a picture taken many years ago. And it stands on the mantlepiece in our family home.
The photograph is dominated by a young woman, blonde and beautiful with her hair in pigtails. And the dappled winter light plays on her smiling face as she studies the map of a European snow bound city; it is glistening snowy white in the background.
I know exactly what is on her mind as I recognise the look that plays across her face. She is totally happy in her confident organiser way. For the woman in the photograph is my mother and that look has guided me for the last twenty years.
The simple snap, taken by my father on their honeymoon, shows my mother orientating herself for the adventure in Prague that she has organized. And it perfectly captures the mother she was destined to be.
I now know my father didn’t put the photo on our mantlepiece just to remember their vacation. Rather he knows what she knows, that she understands where they want to go, has their journey planned and she only needs to check the details to make sure all is right.
For she is the lodestar of our lives, loving us as she guides our way forward. And I now tear up every time I see that photograph, knowing she can’t do that for me anymore.
Sheltered, traditional, naïve maybe even a little bit rudderless. Not words that I would have recognized as applying to me, but ones that in reality did sum me up as I finished my second decade on earth.
And it was a phone call from my brother that October wishing me a happy twentieth birthday that planted an idea in my mind, an idea that grew into the first step on a journey, a journey that changed everything.
I have two older brothers and Elijah, my oldest brother, had shocked Dad by announcing the previous year that he was moving to Australia with his Aussie girlfriend Shelia.
“Faith,” Elijah said down the phone, with an unusually serious tone in his voice, “They have student visas here. You can come to study and work up to twenty hours a week.”
“Why would I do that?”
“What,” he said with a laugh, “Turn down an opportunity in order to stay at home waitressing. Or did you enrol in college in the US?”
“Not yet, mom…”
“No Faith you put your life on hold and gave mom two years before she died. Another year has passed and dad can certainly cope without you. Time for Faith to have faith in Faith.”
“Alright I will think about it,” I conceded, knowing I didn’t really have a plan let alone a better one.
“And I will help you by emailing some information about Australia.”
Surprisingly dad was enthusiastic about me going, though he gave Elijah a good talking too about looking after me.
Unlike his daughter whose initial enthusiasm was tempered by a growing unease about leaving the comfort of home, and the strangeness of the word overseas as I didn’t, until that point in time, even have a passport. But Shelia was also so enthusiastic about me visiting and, given I could stay with her parents, costs were so reasonable that I convinced myself that I had nothing to lose.
Life changing decision as it turned out.
As the day of departure got closer, I couldn’t hide my growing nervousness from dad. So he, with tears in his eyes, gave me a copy of that photo of my mother in Prague that will always stand on his mantlepiece.
“Don’t be nervous Faith,” dad said, “Keep this photo with you, I have always felt anchored by seeing it. Anyway, I imagine you will feel right at home. After all Australians are just like us. English speaking, and allies all the way to Iraq.”
But dad was wrong, oh so very wrong. While his little girl wouldn’t get to confirm whether all of Australia was different from home, sure as hell, Sydney ended up being nothing like Montana.
Dad’s message of easy comfort started to unravel as I sat in the airport waiting for my plane. The idea of leaving a Montana winter to arrive in summer having had a day disappear on me did my head in.
Fourteen long hours flying across the Pacific and losing a day seemed bizarre enough. But summer, can it really be summer in November?
The reality of the heat hit me as I walked out of the Sydney airport terminal with Elijah and Shelia. Hot and sticky and not yet midday. Oh God, I thought, what have I let myself in for.
Driving from the airport, on the wrong side of the road I might add, we crossed the Harbour Bridge and I had a glimpse of the Sydney Opera House, looking like a sail-boat in the shimmering water. Its unexpectedness took my breath away, betraying how little I had actually thought about the place I would be living in.
And then in coastal suburbia we passed beach upon beach, all packed with people. Unlike home where the water was hours away, this place seemed connected and defined by its relationship to the sea. And that included Shelia’s family home which was set back on a hill overlooking a wide expanse of sand.
I was welcomed and asked to treat her place like home. And so began my days in Australia, a succession of hot days and sticky nights.
Every day, often more than once, I would put on a bikini and with footwear that no one could agree on what they were called, I heard thongs, jandals or flipflops, head across the burning sand to dive into the refreshingly cool water.
And every night, Shelia’s dad would announce he was going to put a few shrimps on the barbie, and we would have dinner, though puzzlingly it was only occasionally actually prawns, out on the deck where we ate, talked and laughed accompanied by the constant chirping of cicadas.
The food, the noises, like even the birds sounded different as they were all parrots, the sticky humid smells, and even the lower drinking age were all so strange compared to home. And as for the words they used, like lift for elevator and taxi for cab, chatting had me in mental gymnastics translating what was said and never feeling I could quite keep up with the conversation.
One evening I went into my bedroom and screamed. And the family came rushing and, when I pointed out the large hairy spider on the wall, they laughed.
“It is only a Huntsman.” Shelia’s dad patiently explained, “They are harmless.” And the next day he took me outside and found me a funnel web spider in the backyard, and added with a smile, “Don’t go too close, these ones are deadly poisonous.”
Fuck, I thought, who wants to live in a country that has poisonous spiders in the back yard. But I tiptoed more carefully from then on.
At the beach I got to meet Shelia’s friends, almost all of them bronzed by the sun with tight bodies hardened by swimming and, more exotically, surfing. I tried the board and they laughed as I easily and frequently, fell off into the water.
Their laughter made me determined and, oh so slowly, I got the hang of standing on a surf board in the summer waves. But their conversation and accents still left me behind, struggling to work out what to say.
They were a so much more diverse group than the white bread set I had grown up with. Dreadlocks and drugs. Gay and straight. European and Asian. But with all their teasing banter there was an undercurrent of acceptance, and I slowly got more accustomed to friendship the Australian way.
But those differences left me still a little nervous and tongue tied. And, almost as quickly as I recognised my continued nervousness about fitting in, I recognized something or I should say someone else.
She was, like a lot of Australians, of Chinese origin, elfin, not breaching five foot, and slim, almost without breasts. I watched her and she seemed like the emotional heart of the group, always making sure everyone was okay. And always making suggestions to someone to help someone else with something.
Her name Bixie, Shelia told me one evening, was traditional and like her namesake she had the talent for assisting anyone who suffered from bad Feng Shu. I had no idea whether what Shelia said was right, but I did see Bixie the Pixie, as the boys had christened her, always looking out for others.
It didn’t take long for her to notice that I had noticed. And she sidled up to me one day at the beach and said, “Most don’t notice, but you do. I like that; so Faith any requests?”
I giggled, “Maybe I will fit in more if I can surf better. But tell me what should I call you.”
“Surfing, easy babe. While I try to make people use my Chinese name it is a losing battle and so just call me Pixie.”
So we spent an hour in the water together every day and I learnt the basics of surfing and as a result came to be a little more respected by all.
And amazingly right from the start there was an easy, almost intuitive, style that Pixie and I had with each other. She often would add something idiomatic to what I said, and that helped me break through my nervousness, enabling me to increasingly feel able to join in the banter.
But even though I had started to fit in, I still, last thing every night and first thing every morning, gazed at the photograph of my mother in Prague. The winter light that played on her face felt connected to the summer light that now played on mine. But I envied her the map she confidently held in her hand.
The newness and strangeness of Sydney was a constant source of scary wonder, and I had no idea how long I was going to stay and what I was going to do.
And then something even stranger and more unexpected happened. His name was Stephan, a blond surfer dude, whose Aryan good looks and tight body were kind of attractive. I hadn’t dated all that much back home, and really hadn’t had a full-time boyfriend, but if I had a type when it came to boys, he would have been my type.
One day there was this party and all Shelia’s friends were there. I was, of course, hanging back a little, drinking vodka cruisers which it turned out packed more of a punch than I had expected. And while taking in everyone, I watched Pixie and Stephan most intently as they were deep in conversation.
And when they took that conversation into one of the others rooms, I couldn’t help myself. I followed wondering what they were up to. But I was conscious of the strangest feeling, I was envious of their connection.
At the doorway I paused, close enough to hear but not close enough to be seen, or so I thought.
“But Stephan, you have to see it from a girl’s point of view,” Pixie was saying.
“Which is what, Pixie?
“Well not all girls like sucking cocks.”
I was surprised and curious as to why they were having this particular conversation.
And then Stephan asked, “Do you like sucking cock?
“I doubt it. It isn’t actually relevant as I am lesbian.”
For some reason my heart leapt into my mouth, Pixie was a lesbian, who knew.
But that thought was put on hold as Stephan continued, “But you like sucking strap-ons, so why not my cock?”
Strap-ons, I thought, drinking my vodka cruiser, oh my God. And Pixie looked over at me and smiled, adding, “You don’t hide very well Faith. Could you help me out here?"
I wandered over realising that, despite the alcohol in my system, I was as nervous and uncertain as I had ever been. Wandering over to my closest friend in Australia to discuss sucking cocks with her and the hottest guy in the group.
“So,” said Pixie, putting an arm around me, “What, Faith, do you think about cock sucking?
I giggled and replied, “An essential skill for a girl wanting to avoid pregnancy.”
“Yes,” Pixie replied, “I can see that advantage. But a strap on is even better as you don’t get pregnant from fucking it.”
“But,” Stephan added, “It has to be said that a cock feels better in the mouth than a strap on. Isn’t that right Faith?”
“I have no experience of sucking a strap-on, so I can’t say,” I replied.
“And I have no experience of sucking a real cock, so I can’t say either,” Pixie added.
Why I said what I said next I will never know, maybe it was the vodka cruisers or maybe because Stephan was actually as nice as he was cute. And maybe because deep down I did really think that sucking cock was all there was to my sex life.
But with an air of confidence that definitely originated in the vodka, I said, “Well there is only one way to find out, drop you shorts Stephan.”
And he did, and Pixie and I watched his large cock instantly grow into life.
“So what do you think, Pixie?” I asked.
“It's ok. This one isn’t bad as that prick isn’t attached to a prick.”
Stephan smiled and added, “As I am not a prick, I should point out that we can stop at any stage.”
“Thanks babe,” Pixie replied as she kissed him on the cheek, “But I am interested to see this, so long as you want to Faith.”
And for some reason I did, not just because I liked Stephan, but also because Pixie had been so good to me, helping me integrate into Sydney, and the least I could do is help her with something she was less familiar with.
So I dropped to my knees and licked the head of his cock, which came alive with my tongue. Licking and then sucking with my hand gripping the bottom of his shaft, I soon heard Stephan moan. My eyes locked with Pixie’s and she smiled obviously appreciating my demonstration of my cock sucking skills.
But unfortunately, like boys back home, Stephan lacked in stamina what he made up for in cuteness. And I soon felt his cock twitch, and he spurted his cum into my mouth.
And as I sucked him dry, I heard Pixie say urgently, “Yes I can do this. Kiss me Faith.”
Instinctively I stood and Pixie and my lips met, and my mouth opened and her tongue invaded my mouth. And as we kissed Stephan’s cum leaked from my mouth into hers.
We kissed and kissed until we locked eyes and swallowed, and I asked, “Well?”
And Pixie replied, “That was okay, thanks Stephan you cum isn’t as gross as I feared.”
Stephan smiled, “I am pleased to have helped your education Pixie, and yours too Faith.”
“Mine,” I questioned, “I already knew how to suck cock.”
“Indeed,” Stephan replied, “And you are very good at it. But my reference to helping your education Faith was about you kissing Pixie.”
Oh fuck, I thought, realising that my knickers had dampened, and knowing that most of that happened while kissing Pixie and not while sucking Stephan’s cock.
The next morning Shelia came in to my room bearing tea, saying, “Time to wake up sleepy head.”
I groaned and sat up rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Big night wasn’t it,” Shelia observed.
“You could say that,” I shyly replied, as I grabbed the tea, “Party was something else, too much vodka.”
“Does something else include kissing girls, sister-in-law?” Shelia asked slyly without a hint of embarrassment.
Not getting embarrassed was beyond me, I blushed and stuttered, completely unsure of what to say.
“Don’t spill the tea,” Shelia said, grabbing my hand, “I shouldn’t tease you when you have a hot drink in your hand.
“Um…” I stuttered.
“Spit it out sister, the words not Stephan’s cum I mean.”
“Um… well…”
“For God sake just say.”
“Well um.”
“I guess you brother is right,” Shelia observed.
“What?”
“His view is that all these hot surfer dudes haven’t captured your attention. But Pixie just has to walk past and you get so distracted. So, he is convinced you are more into her than a hot guy like Stephan.
“But…”
“But nothing. Being bisexual or gay is ok. And just so you know, Pixie isn’t really bisexual.”
"Well, oddly, I have some idea of that after yesterday," I giggled.
“Good, she wants to help Stephan but she only usually has eyes for girls. And given that way she looks at you, I know she would be open to fucking you honey.”
“She is Asian.”
“I know, how cool is that. The perfect opportunity for you to shatter your racial and sexuality norms.”
“You’re bad.”
Shelia took my half-drunk tea and put it on the floor. Taking my hands in hers, she whispered, “It’s not bad to want you to grow into the person who truly are. It not bad for a brother and his fiancé to help his sister.”
Later that afternoon Elijah drove Shelia and I up to Palm Beach where the surf was better. My brother and future sister-in-law got their boards and joined the gang in the water catching waves.
I swam in the refreshing water and sat on the sand pondering the last twenty-four hours. The party had bought with it a new way of seeing things. I seemed to like kissing girls, and was intrigued by the talk about strap-ons.
And as I saw Pixie surf a wave, I owned up to what Shelia had implied, namely the fact I liked one girl more than the others.
Just as I was being honest with myself for the first time ever, Pixie walked up the beach, board under her arm. Safely staring behind my sun glasses, I couldn’t help again notice how slight her 4-foot 10 inches figure was. Boyish hips and tiny a-cup breasts, didn’t detract from her appeal, to me she looked so sexy.
She dumped her board in the sand, and said, “So what’s up Faith?” as she sat beside me.
“Hey,” I said plucking up my courage and wanting to get what I was about to do over with, “I see Sandals restaurant is open.”
“Biggest time of year for them I guess.”
“Let’s go tomorrow night.”
“Just the two of us?” Pixie asked, with a hint of a smile.
“Yep, but you have to dress up. And yes, I do mean a dress.”
Pixie laughed, but then her face turned serious, “You know that, despite what we did with Stephan, I’m gay don’t you.”
“Good. It would be kind of awkward if the first girl I invited on a date turned out to be straight.”
Pixie giggled, adorably, “I would love to. And for you I will turn into super-femme.”
I fished my mobile out of my bag and rang the restaurant and booked for seven. Afterwards Pixie said, “You are not the same girl who arrived in Sydney.”
“Definitely not. I have grown up and lost some of my prejudices. This is actually the first time I have ever asked anyone out.”
“Then I am honoured. Go take the board out.”
“And leave you alone with Stephan?” I said with a giggle.
“I’m cool, you minx. I will keep my eyes focused on you, watching you surf and enjoying a delicious feeling of anticipation.”
“Of tomorrow?”
“Yeah babe. We are going to have fun.”
In the surf I surprised myself by executing a perfect turn, my first time ever. Of course, trying to repeat the feat resulted in two face plants.
And looking over at Pixie in the distance I swear her body language suggested she was sniggering.
When I got out of the water everyone was sitting down in one large group and so Pixie and I didn’t significantly interact, though when I caught her eye we both grinned.
And that was enough for Shelia as, as soon as we got into the car, she asked, “Spill the beans.”
“Nothing really, Pixie and I are having dinner tomorrow”
My brother looked at his fiancé meaningfully, and that was enough for her to back off and nothing more to be said.
Until the next afternoon when Elijah screamed, “For fucks sake, calm down.”
“But I have nothing to wear.”
“Shelia,” he yelled.
And she came running, “What’s up babe.”
“Will you take my fucking sister shopping and help her buy a fucking dress for her date with fucking Pixie tonight before she drives me fucking insane.”
“Date? So, it is really a date, that’s wonderful,” Shelia said, giving me a hug.
“Not if she doesn’t calm down it’s not. Here take my card and charge it.”
I was stunned into silence, Elijah was paying, “You don’t have to.”
“Maybe not. But I think mum would expect me too.”
I burst into tears on Shelia shoulders and she then endured what she later described as a fraught shopping trip. But a relatively expensive little black dress was acquired.
And so, Sandals seated two young women in little black dresses, braless, hair styled, and makeup discrete. And I felt wonderful as I sipped a glass of Riesling that Pixie had ordered.
For a moment I allowed myself to wonder why.
Why was a girl from a farm in the Midwest sitting in a beach side restaurant in summer in December?
Why was a girl who at school talked about dating a broad-shouldered young farmer for whom a new pair of jeans was a big night out, sitting with a petite Chinese-Australian woman in a gorgeous little black dress?
Why was I so sure that me, who had barely had a relationship, would have anything in common with Pixie who seemed to put it mildly, somewhat adventurous?
And why, though no one could every suspect this, why was my pussy leaking like it had never leaked before?
I had stepped into the unknown, and nerves were about to claim me when Pixie took my hand, “I know, I feel it too. Let it go and relax, and let’s enjoy the food and each other’s company.”
“Easy for you to say. And how the hell did you know?”
“This is all new to you Faith. And you don’t yet realize just how unusual we are in being so intuitive with each other.”
I giggled, and said, “I have never felt more in need of one of my mother’s maps, to know what to do.”
“Don’t overthink it. I guess you mum would have said, what feels right will be right.”
And Pixie was right, we just chatted and laughed as we ate scrumptious fish, and drank a glass or two more wine. And, just a little giggly, we tottered in our heels out of the restaurant and outside Pixie looked me in the eye and said, “Want to come back to my place, Faith.”
And for the first time in a while I didn’t think about my answer, I just reacted with how I felt, “Yes please.”
And I was conscious that the flood in my knickers had suddenly reached biblical proportions.
The door slammed behind us and I felt her breath on my neck as Pixie ran a finger up the back of my arm. I froze, just embracing the feel of the goose bumps that emerged on my arm.
Pixie must have wondered why I froze as she asked, “You ok?”
I turned to face her and ran my fingers through her hair, “Everything about you is intense, it is such a good feeling. Even the touch on my arms, goose bumps.”
She smiled, a demure look I had never seen before. So gorgeous.
“A lot of barriers had to come down for me to be here. And I intend to enjoy every minute with you Pixie. My brother told me this afternoon that I am giving him every indication that I need to make love to you.”
“Elijah said that?”
“Well he did actually use the word fuck.”
Pixie giggled, “And what do you think?”
“It taken me a while to realize just how much my brother understands me.”
“Who knew that he was the most intuitive and emphatic person we know.”
And Pixie stood on tip toes and her arms went around my shoulders and her lips met mine. And instinctively my hands pressed against her butt and she wrapped her kegs around my hips. And I knew exactly what to do as I carried her to the bedroom. And she knew exactly what to do when we got there, slipping off her dress and panties and helping me off with mine.
Despite the breeze gently drifting through the apartment, I could feel the heat and sticky humidity. And hear the sounds of cicadas chirping. Such an Australian summer night.
A little moonlight came through the open window in her bedroom, just enough for me to see Pixie smile.
“You just going to lie there appreciating the Aussie summer, or are you going to kiss me.”
I giggled, “You’re bossy.”
“No, I’m needy. And you haven’t kissed me properly today.”
I placed my lips of hers, gently embracing the softness of her lips. Not a full kiss, as suddenly I felt self-conscious.
“What is it sweetie?” Pixie asked.
“With you it all feels so new.”
“It’s special for me too sweetie. Let’s enjoy what comes naturally. And we can go as fast or slow as you want.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I know I want you. But…”
“Shush,” Pixie said, putting her fingers on my lips, “You don’t need to explain. We already have a connection, you can trust in it. And believe me, I want you to like me so much that you keeping coming back for more.”
Her words implied a relationship, and that sent a shiver through me. And the recognition that while Australia had disorientated me up too now, I felt that finally had a sense of belonging. Naked in Pixie’s bed was, what was the aboriginal word, yes Murrumbidgee.
“With you I don’t have barriers,” Pixie added, as she drew my head to hers. Our bodies, side by side, snuggled closer as our fingers traced abstract patterns over each other’s back.
Our lips met and she ran her tongue across my top lip. I shivered with the sensuality of her touch actually savouring my first proper kiss with a woman.
And I surprised myself by taking the lead, letting my tongue drift out and touch hers. The world stopped as we held the position for a moment or two, just simply enjoying the feel of lips and tongues touching, my whole body trembling with the contact.
My mouth moulded onto hers, delicately at first, and I experienced the first time her gentle kiss that seemed to communicated something more, much more, than any kiss that had gone before it.
Caressing and exploring, our tongues teased each other, and we gently kissed for what seemed like an eternity.
Gentleness turned more passionate as our tongues engaged, that kiss felt like heaven and seeped all through my body, reaching my pussy which suddenly seeped incredibly strongly, flooding my thighs with my juices.
“I can smell your arousal,” Pixie whispered oh so seductively.
“I have never felt like this before,” I said conscious of my lack of self-consciousness and of the goose bumps that emerged on me from Pixie’s delicate touch.
Pixie was the first one to break our pattern of increasingly passionate kisses. She eased me onto my back and then kissed my forehead and eyes with little butterfly kisses. I heard myself moan once and then a second time when she kissed my ear and then ran her mouth down my neck.
Pixie obviously noticed the moans as she returned to the exact spots and kissed them again and again, drawing even deeper sighs of pleasure from me.
Then she trailed her tongue down my breastbone and over my tummy. Little kisses searched out my sensitive spots. And when she found them, Pixie paid particular attention to them. I was squirming as Pixie kissed her way back up my body.
And squirming even more when Pixie ran her tongue around my nipple, gently caressing it until it was hard. When she gently sucked the hard nipple, I squealed in delight. Pixie moved across to my other breast and teased that nipple, I sighed in absolute pleasure. Round and round Pixie’s tongue went massaging my nipple and then sucking firmly.
“Oh my God… yes,” I moaned.
After a deeply affectionate kiss, I turned Pixie on her back and ran my tongue across Pixie’s neck.
Little kisses across Pixie’s face and neck only drew, as I expected, a smile from Pixie. I was about to discover one of Pixie’s little secrets. As I ran her tongue across Pixie’s breast bone and down over her tummy, Pixie smile turned into one of anticipation. And when I started to kiss her way back up Pixie’s body, she started to squirm.
Then when I ran her tongue gently across Pixie’s puffy little left nipple she howled with pleasure.
I looked up, raised an eyebrow in surprise and asked, “You seem sensitive?”
“Very, very sensitive.”
I lowered her head and ran her tongue across Pixie’s puffy nipple for a second time. And, as I expected, her nipple exploded into life. My tongue circled and circled her hard-little bud and Pixie’s moans became increasingly intense.
I finally sucked Pixie’s nipple into her mouth, drawing a squealed, “Oh God… yes,” from her. As I sucked, I drew increasingly loud moans from her.
When I moved my mouth across to Pixie’s right nipple and placed the most delicate of butterfly kisses on it. Pixie moaned and started squirming in anticipation. I looked up at Pixie and waited until she looked at me. Surprising myself with my confidence, I held her gaze teasingly until Pixie groaned, “Please… Don’t stop.”
I lowered my head and licked Pixie’s nipple, and while Pixie had moaned when I licked her, she fair screamed and squirmed even more when I sucked her right nipple.
And she then surprised me by flipping me on my back and kissing her way across my chest. Her attention to my breasts was just perfect but she then kissed her way down my tummy.
I just knew what she was about, and I said, “Hey you don’t have to do that.”
“Maybe not Faith, but I really want to. I like giving pleasure and I like you. So, it is the most natural thing in the world to want to do.”
I couldn’t resist and I smiled happily as Pixie continued to kiss over my tummy, and then soft little kisses down my left thigh and up my right thigh. I was surprised by her gentleness.
Then Pixie's lips gently landed on my pussy, as lightly as a butterfly. A first for me and the touch was as sensual as it was delicate.
"Ohhhhh....." I sighed.
I watched Pixie use her lips to gather my juices and then run her mouth up and through my labia. A pause and then Pixie’s lips slide down. She used her thumbs to very gently spread me even more open. Then Pixie’s upper lip ran feather soft over my clit and meet the lower lip right at the opening.
Pixie kept licking and kissing all over my pussy, always very slowly. It was if she was savouring every taste and touch of my sex. And I even heard the occasional little slurp as she sucked.
I realized that I so loved what Pixie was doing and started to squirm. A lot. And made little almost cat like meows of pleasure.
I moved my knees even, wider. Silently seeming to beg Pixie for more. But rather than more, Pixie started moving even slower and even softer. Her slightest touch was taking my breath away, playing me with perfection.
After what seemed like an eternity Pixie ran her tongue straight up my pussy in a single maddeningly slow, agonizingly light lick, lighter over my opening, somehow even more so over my clit.
Then tongue extended, Pixie focused and lapped at my clit like a kitten takes milk. My eyes closed and I succumbed to new but wonderful feelings, softly calling out Pixie’s name, again and again.
A deep sigh escaped from me as Pixie’s tongue curled and pressed inside my opening. Circling around inside, tracing my circumference. Then slowly, deliberately Pixie moved back to my clit.
I was slipping into a new-found ecstasy. Driven by the twirling and lapping of her wonderful tongue. Pixie's tongue caressed my clit a little faster and firmer, and my breath shuddered in tiny little gasps.
My fingers curled gripping the sheets. My gasps turned into moans. My hips pushed up like they wanted to force themselves deep into Pixie’s face. My body started trembling. I became very vocal, “Oh yes… Pixie. Oh fuck, you are magic. Yes… Make me cum.”
Pixie’s started sucking my clit. "Oh my god. Yes… yes," I screamed and I came. Hard, harder than ever before.
The orgasm shuddered through me and then I slowly unwound, relaxed and smiled. A smile so very, very sweet as Pixie sensuously kissed her way back up my body, still like she was being a butterfly. Soft and slow.
Pixie ended up lying on top of me, resting her cheek on my shoulder. One of my bigger breasts pressed against her tiny breast. I slowly brought my arms around to hug Pixie even closer.
"That was beyond words, Pixie. I loved it," I whispered, kissing Pixie’s forehead, “I didn’t know I could feel like that.”
“My pleasure,” she replied, “I love that you had the confidence to let me.”
And I surprised myself my confidently saying, “In a moment I will really make sure it is your pleasure. Just let me recover my breath.”
“Are you sure you want to?”
“Yes, I think I do. Let’s see if I was actually programmed at birth to know how to love a girl.”
“One of your mother’s maps, maybe,” Pixie said with a giggle.
“Maybe, though not one she ever actually drew for me.”
I eased Pixie onto her back and rolled on top of her. Then kissed and kissed before sliding my body down hers. Running my tongue across Pixie’s nipples drawing groans of pleasure from her. As my mouth kissed its way further down Pixie’s body, my eyes never left hers, even when my knees landed on the floor with my face inches from Pixie’s pussy.
It felt like a moment of truth for me: how would I feel? But I wasn't prepared for the response I drew from Pixie. Pixie smiled so wantonly and spread her legs giving me total access to her most private of places.
And I was stunned by the response that drew from me, “You want this baby girl, don’t you?”
“Fuck yes, like you wouldn’t believe. Please…”
Running on instinct, I blew on Pixie’s pussy causing her to shiver. My fingertips grazed Pixie’s wetness and I almost reverently spread her pussy lips. My mouth delicately kissed the folds of Pixie’s pussy, tasting her and liking my first taste of her tangy juices. Then my tongue curled and slide into her opening, and she sighed as I slowly fucked her with my tongue.
Her squeal of frustration when my mouth left her pussy was followed by a deep sigh of satisfaction when she felt my finger slide into her. Somehow I just knew to pump her with my finger a few times before burying it in her wet pussy.
I then slid two fingers into Pixie and pumped her with my fingers again and again. Pixie’s hands went to her breasts and she flicked her nipples with her fingers, moaning as I buried both fingers in her incredibly tight pussy.
My tongue found and flicked against her clit for the first time, gentle teasing little touches. Pixie whimpered and her nipples stiffened. She surprised me by pulling her stiff little nipples and pushing her pussy into my face, seemingly indicating her desperation to cum.
I looked up at Pixie with the most innocent look and asked, "Am I doing a good job?"
“Little minx. You are doing a fucking good job. Don’t you dare stop."
"Ooh," I smiled, "you're really wet now."
I surprised myself, and even I found it teasing erotic. God only knows what is was doing to Pixie.
My tongue, soft and wet, returned to fluttering over her clit while Pixie pulled on her nipples, both sending more shock waves through her body, as she screamed with the sensory overload.
Pixie could barely speak, the intensity was becoming all consuming. Then she whispered, "Yes. Oh my God… yes,” and began tremble all over. I thought she was about to cum right then and there, but I instinctively backed off, stopped playing with her clit, and with fingers alone slowly moving, held her close to but not over the point of no return.
My tongue then flicked out and licked Pixie’s clit like it was melting ice cream. Slow and languid letting the pleasure build again. And then, making the sexiest shape with my mouth, I sucked her clit between my lips. Pixie just closed her eyes and let me do my magic on her.
When her hips started to grind against my face, I, while still lavishing attention on Pixie’s clit, curled the two fingers deeper into her pussy. Pixie gasped.
Pixie increased the intensity with which she squeezed her nipples, while I never let up with both my mouth and fingers on her pussy. Working as one, totally focused on Pixie, I couldn't believe the powerful reactions we were drawing from her.
And then Pixie just let everything go, in a way I have never heard before, "Fuck yes. Oh God. I… God yes. Make me cum. Holy shit."
For a moment she dangled on the precipice of pleasure and then she tumbled over, seemingly, delirious with the intensity of her orgasm.
Like mine her orgasm shuddered through her, rendering her mute for a while. Until she opened her eyes and looked down at me and smiled. At smile of much more than thanks, a smile I recognized as one infused with total affection.
I snuggled next to her and felt as calm, relaxed and peaceful as I have ever felt.
