Our friendship had an immediate depth, though we couldn’t agree on why. For some reason we just got each other. I think it was the fact that we shared dreams, in slightly different genres. It’s amazing how quickly two women can bond by geeking out. And how quickly that discussion can turn to sex.
We met at a local science fiction convention. Early the first day she was dressed just a little steampunky, wearing jeans and a black corset with copper ribbing that her ample bosom very nearly spilled out of. Being a head taller than she, I couldn’t help but notice her cleavage, even though I’m not usually a boob girl.
A hair comb decorated with brass gears graced her wavy black hair that hung just past her shoulders. The detailed comb hinted at a much greater dedication to the style than she currently displayed, but I didn’t know that yet. I was just wearing my red shirt with a Star Trek communicator printed on it, but waiting in line makes for strange companions and we started talking. When we got to registration we were both so disappointed to have to stop talking that we set a time to meet for dinner before we parted ways.
Her complete command of the Steampunk style revealed itself at dinner that night when she showed up in an even more elaborate costume. A long, black coat cowled her shoulders as she entered the restaurant. Its shiny, bronze buttons were open, revealing a black knee length ruffled skirt topped by a black and deep red statin and lace corset. Her black leather top hat was intricately decorated with vials and goggles and gears, all of which were highlighted in bronze and a metallic red that matched the corset. When she sat down she took the hat off and set it next to us on the table as we ate.
That hat kept drawing my eye as we talked. Every time I looked at it I saw a new little detail. I felt a bit down on myself that the best clothing I had brought to Con was a t-shirt with the Ghostbusters’ pack printed on it.
“This is beautiful,” I finally commented, pointing at the hat. “May I touch?”
She smiled and nodded, “You may.”
I picked it up and studied it more closely, noting the colored fluid in the vials and that the gears actually turned each other rather than just being glued down. “Did you make this?” I asked.
“Not the hat, but the details are all mine,” she smiled wider, as if I had complimented her favorite pet.
“It’s really cool,” I said as I finally put it down.
I told her that as a writer I keep all my outfit ideas inside my head, finishing by tapping my temple with my forefinger and stating, “It’s bigger on the inside.” She got the Doctor Who reference and giggled, and then groaned. She had a sexy voice, and a laugh that lightened up all those somber colors she wore.
It was a three-day conference, which usually leads to at least two nights of drinking and debauchery, but that first night over a shared bit of strawberry cheesecake, she and I found we didn’t want to waste time drinking if we could get to the debauchery sooner.
She invited me to her room after dinner with a coy smile. I acquiesced and asked our server for the check. After we paid she steered the conversation to sex writing as we walked back to the hotel.
She asked in neutral tones, “So have you read 50 Shades of Grey?”
“GOD NO!” I exclaimed without thinking. “There is so much better sex writing out there!” I shut my mouth then, realizing there are a lot of women for whom 50 Shades is their first foray into the more wicked fun aspects of sex, but she was unfazed.
“I agree,” her eyes brightened. “It’s just the easiest way to find out what someone is into.”
I laughed, “I’m into a lot of things… and some can sting more than others. But not like 50 Shades. I don’t ever believe that I know what a woman wants more than she does. I know it sounds weird, but I do believe in honoring the inner goddess in all women.” I toyed with her fingers as we walked, lightly stroking and tangling them in mine.
She frowned, “You shouldn’t put people on pedestals. That’s a long way to fall.”
I assured her, “Oh I don’t put women on pedestals, or if I do, she’s one plinth over from mine…”
“Because sometimes I don’t want to be honored.” She admitted this slyly and lifted her hand so I could stroke her palm.
“I can honor a woman and handle her rough, if that’s what she likes…” I smiled, and nipped the underside of her wrist.
When we reached her room my heart was beating hard. I love the first time, exploring a woman and learning the ways of her body. I learn where to tread lightly, to soothe the pinches and pains the world has inflicted upon her. Then I learn where the world has strengthened her, what she can take, what moves her, and what gets her wet and begging. This time, I had the advantage of our conversation and I knew where to start.
“You like it rough?” I asked. Though her expression was cool her breasts heaved in the bondage of the corset. The door swung shut behind us and slammed unchecked to a rattling rest. Without waiting for an answer I spun her around and pushed her toward the bed, immediately bending her over the mattress and planting her face in the sheets.
With my palm I pressed down on the laces up her back. I held her there while I pulled down her panties, letting up just a little for her to kick them off and to the side before forcing her down again. I flipped the ruffled skirt up and ran my palm ran over the smooth flesh of her ass before giving her two quick, sharp slaps. Then I knelt down and buried my face between her legs, lapping and sucking at her clit until her juices coated my cheeks.
“Oh yes, FUCK yes!” She whined into the sheets.
Her muffled words reached my ears and charged my senses. I wanted to hear that sexy voice of hers hit that pitch that only absolute pleasure can bring out. I stood, grabbed her leg and flipped her over, then pushed her up further on the bed. She sat up and pulled me down on top of her to kiss me hard, then pushed me away again. I plunged my fingers into her and felt her arch as I kissed my way back down her body over the corset, and found her clit. I got lost in the bliss of fucking and sucking her until she reached down and grabbed a handful of my hair amidst the ruffles of her skirt to pull me away. Her body was shaking and I froze. She took a quick breath and held it as the grip on my hair tightened, then slowly released. I began placing little kisses up her thighs until I felt her relax.
“Well,” she said breathlessly as I eased out of her. “That’s a good start. Now how do you feel about candle wax?”
I took off my shirt and slipped behind her to unlace her corset.
“That depends,” I paused and studied her. “How do you feel about Shibari?”
She turned and answered my grin with a sly smile. It was going to be a great weekend…