Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Feedback address: firstname.lastname@example.org
Date Written: 5-21 May 2005
Word Count: 2020
Summary: When the common becomes taboo, sometimes it’s worth breaking down all barriers.
Spoilers: None really.
Archive: This is a ShatterStorm Productions exclusive piece. Ask for archival/linking first.
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Website: ShatterStorm Productions: Doggie Duo’s Fanfic
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC DD05
Disclaimer: “Babylon 5,” the characters and situations depicted are the property of J. Michael Straczynski, Babylonian Productions, Warner Brothers, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. This story is in no way affiliated with "Babylon 5,” J. Michael Straczynski, the production companies, or any representatives of Claudia Christian or Andrea Thompson. This story contains content between two mature, consenting adult females.
Author’s Notes: This was written for two reasons. First, it was dz_crasher’s story from a long way back. And second, it was for the Dog Days of Summer 2005 Advent Calendar. It was slightly more difficult than I’d expected it to be, but I’m still glad it finally got written.
Dedication: For dz_crasher, who has waited for this story with far more patience than I deserve.
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter
It was the physical sensations that would drive me insane, not the telepathic like I’d expected. The very thought of feeling those gloved fingers skitter across my skin, butter soft and warm from the flesh and blood encased within… My skill crawled, hypersensitive with the need to feel. And if she chose to take off those gloves, strip away the protective armor? Bare herself open and vulnerable before me? I shuddered at the very thought of that trust.
The low husky tone of her voice was a visceral stroke across my skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh behind. I blinked and smiled sheepishly, but didn’t meet her gaze right away.
“Sorry,” I replied, reaching for my wine glass. I drained the dregs and grabbed for the bottle to refill it. “Do you want any more?” I asked, finally meeting her eyes.
There was a twinkle in her eyes. “Is there enough or should we consider that bottle dead and move on to another?”
I tipped the bottle over her glass, watched the last droplets dribble out, then started slightly when she took the bottle and dragged her finger across the rim. Eyes boring into mine, she dipped her finger into the wine before flicking the moisture away with the tip of her tongue. I felt the heat flooding my face at the gesture. Dipping her finger into the wine again, Talia leaned over to trace my lips, staining them with the dark liquid.
Without conscious thought of it, my tongue flicked out to lick away the wine. I could taste the faint muskiness of her leather glove, and I reached for her hand. Still meeting her piercing stare, I wrapped my lips around the tip of her finger, trapped it with my teeth, and began to suck it lightly. That musky leather taste filled my mouth, and I drew more of her finger in over my tongue.
The word came out in a breathy moan, and I wanted to hear it again. Stroking my tongue along the underside of her finger, I smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and she repeated the sexy moan. She raised her other hand, let it caress over the contours of my face, my hair, and I leaned into her touch.
I couldn’t help moaning myself as she shifted her finger to explore the inside of my mouth. Nothing was immune to her questing touch. Her other hand tugged lightly at my tight braid, and I forced myself to meet her gaze again with a low groan. I felt the frisson of desire ooze down my spine at the molten desire suddenly filling her eyes, and I swallowed thickly.
She slipped her finger from my mouth, dragged it across my lower lip before cupping my cheek. I leaned into her touch, startled slightly when she let go to stand up. I took her proffered hand and let her guide me toward the couch. Before we sat down, she pulled me close and pressed soft lips to mine. I moaned softly, lips parting to suck in a breath. Talkie took advantage of that, insinuating her tongue into my mouth to explore just like her finger had done recently enough that I could still taste it.
Forcibly pulling my head back at the lack of oxygen, I closed my eyes in an attempt to regain control of my hormones. Unconsciously, my fingers moved to my lips, and I swore they already felt swollen.
That low, husky voice caressed my mind, and I moaned in response. Her gloved fingers cupped my cheek again, and I rubbed her palm with a smile.
**Susan, look at me**
I forced my eyes open, blinking at her. She wore an almost hesitant smile, despite the desire dancing in her blued steel eyes.
“Are you sure you want this, Susan?” she murmured, still stroking my cheek.
“Are you?” I asked, not moving, afraid of her answer.
“I am,” came the reply. “But I don’t want any regrets.”
My fingers covered her lips, stopping the thought. “I’m not drunk, I’m not being coerced. I choose this of my own free will, Talia. I’ve wanted this for—“
Her lips took possession of mine again, hands holding my face closer. **I know** The words whispered across my nerves like whiskey: hot, fiery, and smooth. My hands moved with a mind of their own, exploring the length of her back from shoulders to hips. When her hands began to move, one slipped back to glide down the length of my braid. She tugged lightly before pulling my hair free of its confining binding. I groaned as her fingers loosened the long strands, massaging their way up to my scalp.
I leaned back into her strong hand, exposing my throat to her questing lips. “Bed,” I finally growled, unsure if I could stay on my feet much longer.
That knowing grin made me shiver in anticipation, and I let her guide me to the bedroom. Once there, she began to strip the clothes from my body slowly, seductively. Those gloved fingers traveled over every exposed inch of skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake, wanting and needy. I hadn’t felt so alive in…ever. Once she had me naked, she branded me with a demanding kiss and took a step back to study me. I shivered under the intense scrutiny, feeling myself bared open for her perusal, all my hopes and fears starkly visible, and found myself at a loss for words.
Talia came closer again, fingers moving over my skin, teasing my nipples until I gasped for mercy. With an evil chuckle, she trailed her fingers down to lightly tug at my pubes. I shuffled, legs spreading for her. “Talia, please,” I moaned.
**Please what, Susan?**
Her fingers moved lower, just ghosting over my clit. I sucked in a breath, hips pushing toward her hand. The motion shifted my balance and I tumbled back onto the bed. I barely settled on the mattress when Talia began to trail her gloved hands up my legs, which spread wider automatically.
“Do you have any idea how you look right now?” The husky hitch in her voice went straight to my crotch.
I shook my head, arching into her touch. “Show me?” One of those pale brows raised in question and I felt the smile spread across my face at the truth in my next words. “I trust you, Talia.”
Heat flushed thought me as she smiled back, such an open delight and gratitude. “Relax,” she murmured, moving to lean on one knee on the bed. The movement put her between my legs. She held my gaze, fingers flexing against my calves, and I felt her slip into my mind.
I closed my eyes, letting the images form as she sent them to me. I couldn’t help but writhe under her touch, the scent of her gloves and my own arousal notching up my need for her touch.
Her fingers stroked across my body, and I could see an image of each body part from her perspective. It heightened the sensations, looping my overwhelming need exponentially. As she stroked my jaw, I could see the look of need, of naked desire on my face as Talia saw it. The visions stopped as she leaned over me for another kiss, but the sensations still came through relentlessly.
A whimper rose up out of my chest at the feel of Talia’s fingers teasing my nipples, and I couldn’t stop my body from arching into her touch. “Talia, please,” I moaned. “Don’t tease…”
**Who said anything about teasing?**
She trailed kisses down the column of my throat, across my chest to latch onto one of my nipples, teeth and tongue teasing mercilessly. I sucked in a startled gasp and bent up into her mouth. Her chuckle vibrated against my skin, and I shivered again. She didn’t allow me any reprieve from the sensations, trailing nipping kisses across my chest to attack my other nipple. Her fingers moved down across my stomach, light as the touch of a butterfly’s wings against my skin, heightening my awareness and need for her touch. The rough fabric of her clothes grated against my sensitive skin as I squirmed beneath her, and I was unable to stop the wanton moan.
**Relax, Susan. You’re all right.**
“Easy for you to say,” I groaned, arching into her touch impatiently. “You’re not being teased to the brink of death.”
She chuckled again, the sound a dark ripple of desire arrowing straight into my clit. **My poor, poor Susan. Perhaps I should put you out of your misery then?** Her words were punctuated by another tug at my pubes. Her hand slid down to cup against my heated flesh, and I whimpered. Leaning up to press another kiss to my lips, she eased two fingers into me. I stiffened at the desired intrusion, body nearly levitating off the bed. She shushed me softly, murmuring in a tauntingly comforting tone with words I couldn’t quite register, and began to kiss her way down my body. Each nipple was lovingly laved into a painfully hard peak before her tongue snaked a slow trail down to dart into my navel. I squealed at that ticklish sensation, my hands pressing almost urgently on her shoulders.
“Please, Talia…” I didn’t even care anymore how wanton and needy I sounded. I wanted nothing more than for this blonde goddess to bathe me in the desire that was threatening to incinerate my nerve endings.
She finally took pity on me and settled herself between my legs. The fingers of one hand moved to spread my lower lips open, and she breathed out across my clit. The sensation made me squeal and buck up against her touch. Her answering smoky, whisky-dark chuckle surrounded me, physically and mentally. It blanketed me in a safe, sensual cocoon…which was promptly shattered when the tip of her tongue traced ever so lightly around my clit. Continuing her maddeningly gentle assault on my now extremely sensitive clit, Talia slipped another finger inside to join its sisters. She twisted her wrist as she thrust lightly, her long fingers seeking and stroking deeply.
Timing her movements as precisely as a surgeon to drag my orgasm from my very soul, Talia continued to send me the impressions and sensations of my arousal. I was on a downward spiral toward oblivion and I couldn’t get there fast enough. I encouraged her with body and nonsensically whimpered pleas. Before too long, her fingers began to thrust faster, deeper, twisting wildly to leave her touch everywhere. My body was practically vibrating off the bed, held down only by the sheer force of her intensity. Her teeth trapped my clit, tongue lashing ruthlessly against the frazzled, hypersensitive nerves.
**Come for me, Susan. Let me feel it.**
Her husky plea was all it took and I stiffened and was subsumed by orgasmic shudders so violent that I lost sense of who and where I was. I heard the plaintive, out of control wailing and only belatedly realized it was my own voice making those erotically haunting sounds.
And then oblivion stole over my senses and I fell headlong into velvety blackness.
I awoke with a start some time later, sitting straight up in bed. Completely disoriented, I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten into bed, let alone how my body ached so deliciously. It felt as if I’d been ridden long and hard and put away aching and soaking wet. Sudden images scorched across my memory and I remembered… Searching for movement within the semi-dark room, I realized I was alone. Trying to fend off the sharp ache of loneliness at that realization, I slowly lay back down, pulling the covers back up over me as I went. Turning onto my side for comfort, I found myself staring at a very distinctive pair of black gloves laying on my pillow. Reaching out with a tentative hand, I touched them, half-afraid they would disappear as a figment of my over-stimulated imagination.
Still warm, as if they’d been recently worn.