Unfamiliar Territory - Chapter 20 (Early Access) (Patreon)

Tove filled the sleep dip with bedding, turning it into a pin-cushion, and beckoned Chloe over. She dried her with a small towel, stroking Chloe over from top to bottom until it was sopping. Better it than her, Chloe thought. Her body had other plans, though, ones she realised when Tove’s breath caught her between the legs. She was sopping.

Like an awkward dance, she was led deeper into the pit, damp feet sinking into cushions and blankets, Tove’s hands pulling hers - gentle, coaxing, reassuring.

The oily sheen that covered Tove’s body from the bath gave her a new glow. She had always shone with life and excitement, now she glimmered under the crystal veins and lamplight anew. A second chance, a second life, she’d had no idea was already hers.

Destiny? Definitely.

Tove ducked, curving her spine concave and dropping to her knees, running the perfect point of her chin back up Chloe’s inner thigh. With no experience in this sort of activity, Chloe stilled, and watched. There was a pause. Tove tilted her head without disconnecting from Chloe’s skin, her eyes asked for confirmation. Are you sure? Is this okay? Do you want to stop?

“S-sorry,” Chloe babbled. “I’ve never- I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Tove grinned. Of course she did. “What do you want to do?” she asked.

“Touch you.” The two words shot out far too fast. If Chloe had any decency she would cover her mouth. Being butt naked in a cave had stripped her, literally, of any restraint she had been clinging on to until now. She had the pleasure of seeing Tove all the time; it was an even split as to the daily odds of whether the woman would be wearing clothes. Reaching out, brushing her fingers over sun-bronzed skin, that was the line she could not cross. Tove, on the other hand, touched her freely and without fear. It wasn’t fair.

Tove’s grin had stretched wider. “You’re welcome to touch whatever you like.”

“Y-you, too.”

Tove chuckled.

The limp hands that had hung at Chloe’s hips until now slid forward into Tove’s hair, the oils were sticking sections into points and tufts and she scrubbed her fingers through all of it. Curious eyes rolled a little beneath her touch, encouraging her to continue with head butts. But hair playing was for sleepovers, the kind sat around gossiping about mean professors and beautiful older girls.

Chloe lowered, on shaking knees, to mimic Tove - albeit shorter. The moment her knees were pressed into padding, she was snatched up into a kiss. It took her lips first, with a wet sound that dragged to her cheeks, along her ears and down her neck.

“Sorry,” Tove chuckled against her skin. “I got a little impatient.”

“N-no, I’m sorry.” Chloe’s hands began to dither between them, raised in an imploration for just a little more of Tove’s tolerance. “I don’t- I-”

“You’re driving me mad.” Tove’s tone had changed, it only fuelled the nerves sparking along Chloe’s body.

“S-sorry-”

That gravelly voice remained. “I mean that I want you, not that you’re doing something wrong.”

“Oh.” Chloe didn’t know how to respond to that, it wasn’t something she’d ever been told before. Crushes on the school playground never went anywhere for her. Longing looks and passed notes and is-this-a-real-date hangouts. Now she had a woman, one who was infinitely more interesting and irresistible than anyone she had ever met, claiming she wanted her. “I think… it would be best if you did as you pleased or we’re not going to get anywhere,” she admitted through the burn that seemed to inflate her face.

“If you don’t like how anything feels-”

Chloe nodded, hurrying them along. She could feel, like an oncoming storm, a Tove laugh approaching, but before there was time for it to release, long-fingered hands snatched her at the waist and pulled her to her back. Manhandling in the most gentle way: slammed into softness and checked all over with tiny butterfly kisses. It was satisfying, to be grabbed in such a fashion, by someone you wished would just squeeze you into them.

The kisses reached her chest. Her breasts were sensitive, and the touch of someone other than herself was electric, leaving her nipples pinched and pressed out, begging for more without shame. Tove grinned at them, and gave them each two extra kisses and a long suck that sent a shock straight to Chloe’s core. When she pulled back, she allowed the suction to drag each one from her lips, staring Chloe down with an almost-hungry gaze. She had never seen Tove look much of a predator, not that she seemed prey either. Somewhere in the middle, a confident creature who could hold their own, but had no intention of chasing anyone else down. This Tove’s teeth seemed sharper, her eyes more intense - like she’d catch the twitch of your pulse with a glance. Chloe realised, with a drowsy blink, that she was not afraid of this Tove. She wanted to be devoured, and by a partner- mate that had the power to do so.

Tove grazed on Chloe’s skin, quickly sliding from view to nibble along her hips. Chloe gripped the blankets by her head and attempted to stay still, giggling and kicking at the ticklish sensation would not be sexy. Although Tove’s touch made her feel sexy, which almost made her want to giggle again at the idea. Chloe was not the sexy type, she was mousy and clumsy and-

Tove’s teeth grabbed a chunk of Chloe’s calf. She gasped softly.

And mousy, clumsy Chloe’s mate wanted her.

Half-lidded, her eyes rested upwards, bathing in Tove’s touches and concentrating on not wriggling in her own arousal. Seeing the ceiling of their cave properly for the first time, Chloe realised the crystal veins crept in here too. They were still pulsing, the storm still raging outside.

When the kisses reached the meeting of her thighs, they climbed up the trembling line. At the very crux, Tove’s lips meeting hair, Chloe realised she would need to spread them. They opened, not in one gliding, elegant motion, of course not. Tove didn’t seem to care, the moment Chloe’s innermost parts were revealed to her, she surged forward, pointed-tongue-first.

Playful licks shocked her, in both pleasure and sensation. It was exactly how she'd imagined, laid in bed in the middle of the night, surrounded by the other girls of her dorm. And yet... more. A lot more. It wasn't the uniform up-and-down that her imagination had gifted her when her hand was grazing over her underwear under the covers. Tove's tongue twisted and turned and ran every crease and curve of Chloe's cunt. She tasted her with purpose, to encounter every part of her, to memorise and indulge. It was... so much more intense than Chloe had expected. The rest of her was wriggling and squirming in response, no direction needed. Girls in her class had giggled together when discussing these things - asking what to do if 'it' was rubbish. What if the fake moans sounded fake? Should they practice? Expressions and noises and dirty talk to fill an awkward silence? Or did you just go limp like a fish in the market?

These questions had no meaning with Tove, Chloe's mind might have been trying desperately to over-think and worry, but everything from the brows down was working on reflex. Her thighs were wide and shaking, ricochets reaching her feet and wobbling her toes. One foot was pointed up and curled, the other dug into a pillow with the calf taut. Everything was tight, her skin, her muscles, the snap and crackle of pleasure running outwards from Tove's tongue, meshing wet and pink. Grinding into the little bead that held all of her body's most desperate desires.

Whiny, squeaky noises overlaid the pants and full-mouthed-moans of Tove, and Chloe's half-lidded eyes flew open when she realised they were coming from her. She couldn't stop. That hot, wet muscle was stroking her closer and closer to her climax and her vocal chords couldn't be restrained from trembling along with the rest of her.

Hands snatched her own, directing them back to Tove’s hair. The doggy wanted petting. Chloe could oblige when she was eating so well. Take her, have her, do what she wanted with her. That was what she begged with the drag of her fingers over Tove's scalp. She wasn't directing in any way, she barely knew what she wanted aside from more.

And it only took a little more. Climax collided with Chloe, knocking her head back against the soft bedding and a cry from her chest.

Tove kissed her way up Chloe's mound, nuzzling the fluffy blonde hair there as she went. She reached the squishy part of her stomach and pushed her lips in forceful pecks like a bird kneading bread. Between Chloe's breasts, she let a canine drag through the crease, prickling the skin enough to set her nerves alight, but not to leave a mark.

"M-my turn," Chloe croaked.