28. The Last Waltz #5
But what Kate failed to imagine—even in that moment of discovery—was that she still knew nothing at all.
For the instant Gina’s tongue made contact with that little knot of nerves, now redder and more swollen than ever, Kate believed her wife’s words and felt herself soar all the way to heaven itself.
The moan that escaped her throat, the gasp that left her lips, the involuntary thrust of her hips toward Gina’s mouth; it all surged from deep within her, complementing perfectly her wife’s mastery at making her feel, for the very first time, like the most revered woman on earth.
Gina’s fingers inside her, her mouth outside… together, they formed the most marvelous combination she could possibly experience. Kate could not believe what she was feeling; she could not believe that her body was capable of making her feel such intense and sublime sensations.
And it was then, teetering on the very edge of herself, that she felt Gina’s tongue trace the full length of her, one slow, deliberate stroke from where her fingers rested all the way up, unhurried, as if she had decided to take it all apart in a single, ceremonial movement.
“Ahhh…!” Kate exclaimed, overcome by an incomparable pleasure.
Gina raised her head and, very slowly, withdrew her hand, lowering her hips instead, gently, searching for the right angle, never taking her eyes off Kate’s, until their bodies met and joined for the very first time.
Kate’s mouth fell open, and a breathless, trembling moan escaped her throat, leaving her defenseless at the mercy of the myriad sensations that flooded her body all at once.
Soft, warm, wet sensations, in a way she recognized immediately as her own, as familiar, and yet completely new. Like finding a mirror that touches you back. An extension of your body that reaches out from within you, only to return, like a puzzle finally finding all its missing pieces.
Their bodies fit together with a naturalness that stole her breath away, not because of the intensity, but for its simplicity, its inevitability, and the sheer magic it truly held.
For only something magical could be the source of these marvelous physical sensations, this simple brush of two female bodies pressing close, molding to one another amidst the dampness and the heat beckoning from each of them.
Gina’s eyes were fixed on Kate, on every reaction, every sound, on the way Kate’s eyelids grew heavy and drifted shut of their own accord.
She watched her like someone observing something they had waited a long time to see.
Yet Gina, too, was not immune to the allure of such genuine desire; a low, stifled moan escaped her lips every time she slid slowly over Kate, as if she wanted her to feel her completely, to feel her well, before going any further.
And then she began to move in earnest, her hips creating friction against one another, damp heat gliding against damp heat, their most sensitive zones joining and parting intermittently, like sticky kisses from lips far more sensitive, far more fluid and sublime.
Something exploded between them at the same time. Something primal and instinctive, something wild and uncontrolled.
The rhythm lost its calm, desperation turned into a storm, and their bodies sweated from head to toe.
Gina’s hips thrust with greater urgency, and Kate’s responded by rising hers to meet her, seeking her, demanding her, desiring her.
What had begun as something measured and deliberate turned wild, mad, frenetic.
Two bodies suddenly speaking a new, singular language, one neither had ever learned, yet which both understood perfectly.
The sensation was exquisite, maddening, overwhelming, leaving them both senseless, devoid of logic, and beyond words.
“Oh, God,” Kate moaned. “Gina… this is…”
“I know,” her voice sounded strained, desperate. “I know, my love.”
Gina’s rhythm quickened until it became erratic—her hips now devoid of order or calculation, driven only by urgency. Her head rose, her golden hair tumbling all around her, framing her in a wild, primitive tableau.
Kate watched Gina from below, breathless, memorizing every expression, every sound, every tremor that coursed through their bodies.
She saw her reach the peak first.
She watched as her back arched fully, her arms trembled, and her mouth opened in a voiceless scream—nothing but air. Her body convulsed once, then again, and Kate felt each of those tremors against her own sex; wet, taut, and pushed to the very brink. She felt her trembling there, too.
And it was that very trembling that finally sent her over the edge.
For it wasn’t just the friction, nor merely the rhythm, but also watching Gina lose control atop her, feeling that quivering surrender, and knowing that she had been the cause; that this trembling body was shaking because of her.
The wave hit her without warning—deep and long—and Kate clung to Gina’s hips as her own body arched and surrendered, emitting a broken sound that escaped her throat.
Gina waited for her, looking down at her, until she finally collapsed onto her body.
And they remained thus, motionless, with racing pulses, just two intertwined, slippery bodies, drenched in sweat and ecstasy, as they slowly regained their breath.
“Oh, God! That was…” Kate began to say, but she couldn’t find the words, and for once, she didn’t try.
“Just the beginning,” Gina promised, pressing their foreheads together and searching her eyes from inches away. “We have the whole night ahead of us.”
Kate smiled then, drawing her close and kissing her slowly but deeply, as if time had ceased to matter, as if the clocks had stopped and no longer marked the hours.
“I never want to leave this bed,” Kate murmured, breaking the kiss to look at her.
Gina smiled warmly. “We don’t have to.”
“Let’s just stay here, then—resting,” Kate confirmed. “Although, perhaps…” she gave her a soft nip on the chin. “Perhaps not entirely.”
Gina laughed this time. “Insatiable.”
“You created this monster. You have only yourself to blame.”
“I regret nothing. Absolutely nothing.”
And throughout the night—as the darkness gave way to the first hints of dawn—they explored, they learned, and they loved.
They made love until they were utterly exhausted and sated; until the sheets lay tangled and damp, bunched up in a heap of fabric; until neither of them could tell where one body ended and the other began.
They lost themselves in one another—unhurried and unhindered—in a slow, sweet exploration between two people who finally had the time… and the freedom… to love each other fully.
Everything else—Paris, the plans of the future, the business matters… all of it could wait. There was nothing more important than this, nothing more important than them, and the immensity of what they felt.