Chapter 7
"What did you say to him?" Martha cried. "I've never seen anything like it before I"
Alva went over to the sink and ran the water until it was warm. "I told him how I was going to make a fairy out of him," she said. "I think he is more afraid for his masculine ego than for anything."
Martha watched while Alva lifted one leg up over the edge of the sink. She tilted her pelvis forward until it looked as if she would pee in the basin. Instead, she splashed the warm water up into her crotch and washed it clean. Her arms pressed her breasts together and made them appear larger and softer. Her buttocks tightened handsomely from the tension they were under, and the line of her split thighs was smooth. When she put her leg back on the floor and turned around, her pussy gleamed. Shiny droplets of water clung to her pubes and sparkled. Her eyes grew soft and big and magnetic again.
"Now it is time for real love," she said, patting herself dry with a soft towel. "I am all clean and sweet inside after him."
"Alva... no," Martha objected, backing up to the edge of the bed. She put her skirt back down over her lap and wished she had her panties on.
"Don't be frightened of me, Martha. I won't harm you. I won't make fun of you the way I did to him."
"Yes," Martha said, wanting to keep her talking. "That was mean, what you did to Martin. Why did you do that to him? Poor Martin."
"That's what I do to all pacas like Tuesta," Alva said, still coming toward the bed. Her hips swung with perfect balance and grace, like the haunches of a cat stalking game. "I thought maybe he would be the man for you, but after listening to his impatience, I saw that he was not. He would have ruptured you and made you bleed and then shot his stinking load into you and left you hanging up there in pain. You would give all and get nothing in return, because bastards like him have nothing to give. He is sick, that one. There is something that troubles him and makes him want to devour the world."
"What do you mean? I didn't see anything like that about him."
Alva laughed lightly and put one knee on the bed. She rolled onto her back and lay with her arms behind her head. Her small breasts stood straight up toward the ceiling. Her thighs were opened slightly, and her creamy skin dipped in fine shadows between them. She was no longer menacing. She reminded Martha of a sweet flower-the kind that draws insects near with colors and beauty until they can smell the perfumed center. When they go to investigate, they become ensnared in the sticky trap, which closes over them and dissolves them.
Even knowing Alva was like this, Martha scooted closer to her on the bed. She felt a need to be able to see into the shadows between Alva's thighs, to see what kind of syrupy snare dwelled there that had such power it could do what it did to Tuesta's prick.
She lifted one arm lazily and caressed the side of Martha's face with her hand. "Let us forget about Tuesta right now," she said softly. "We will see too much of him as it is. Come, my sweet virgin-come closer. I know that you want to."
"Alva... really, we should go to bed. To sleep, I mean. There's going to be so much to see tomorrow. I don't want to miss any of it before we have to leave."
Alva looked at her fully. Her eyes grew dark and soft again, drawing Martha into them against her will.
"Come, Martha. Let me show you life. Let me unravel the mysteries of your own body for you by showing you the secrets of mine. You want to see, to touch, to taste of me. I saw you on the plane. You couldn't keep your eyes from my pussy. Now there is nothing hidden. Look all you want to now-see everything. I want you to."
Her voice was hypnotic. Martha couldn't stop herself from moving her eyes from the dark pools, over the sharp nose, the talking mouth, the slim neck and pointed breasts, down the expanse of cream-covered belly to the tangled grotto of fur at Alva's cunt. Alva's thighs widened the gap for her gaze. She twisted her buttocks around on the bed to place her pussy more directly under Martha's view.
"Go ahead-touch me," Alva said softly, urging Martha.
The hand brushing Martha's face stroked fire into her body. The sexual excitement ran from Alva's fingertips into her very blood. Her breath came shallowly. Her hand moved outward and hesitated.
"This is wrong, Alva," she whispered fearfully.
"Tuesta was wrong, Martha. What you have been suffering is wrong. Why is this more wrong than those?"
Alva's other hand touched Martha's, guiding it. The creamy flesh came under Martha's fingertips, soft and slick as satin. Martha felt the fine tremors rippling over Alva's thighs and flanks and the softness of her-belly. The strands of pubes were like blades of grass and the silky flesh in their wiry midst was both sticky and slick at the same time.
Martha's breath gasped from her lips as she delved into the fleshy trap, and she felt her own cunt open and leak warm fluid from its depths. Alva twisted on the bed some more, and her hand urged Martha to kneel between her creamy thighs.
"Ah, your touch is maddeningly soft, my sweet. God, you know just where and how to touch me. No-no, keep your fingers there. I want them there. I want you to make me come. You watch me come. Feel me, explore inside my body. Do the job he couldn't do, and then I will show you what it's like."
"Oh, Alva...." Martha gasped.
Her eyes were glued to the satin folds. Her fingers delved and twisted gently, almost with an automatic sense of what to do. They pried the fleshy gates apart to reveal the gleaming tissues, drenched with honey. She inhaled the sweet-sharp perfume rising in waves from the slippery, ravenous mouth before her, and her mind went back to her dream. She stared into its depths and saw the fine ripples that passed along the surface of her cunt.
"Take your dress off, Martha," she whispered. "Let me see your beauty again. Let me feast my eyes upon it. Oh, you've played with yourself many times, haven't you. You know just what to do."
"Yes," Martha admitted, feeling a child-like thrill of discovery and confession tingle through her. She reached for the fastenings of her dress and pulled the garment over her head. Her high, fine tits spilled free of her bra, and Martha felt them swell and reach outward with heat. She glanced down and saw her golden cunt shine with the fluids of her passion.
"Beautiful!" Alva cried. "As radiant as the sun itself! Ah, Martha, search my depths with your fingers. Pry me open and look inside and see if you can discover what's there that makes me swell inside this way."
Martha's fingers busied themselves. She couldn't stop them. Alva's knees lifted and fell wide apart. Her feet were planted firmly on Martha's flanks, and her pussy lifted up to exhibit her grasping hole, the pocket of flesh below, and the shiny stretch of sensitive skin looping under her trunk to her ass-hole.
Martha saw it all. The entirety of Alva's cunt gleamed and beckoned to her with the beauty of an unknown flower. It pulsed under her fingers, as vibrant as life itself. It drew her closer, captivated her, made her want to smell its fragrance and sample its sweetness as well as merely touch. Alva must have read her thoughts.
"Go ahead, Martha," she urged in her compelling voice. "Do what you want-anything you feel like doing. It will all be good, and you will make me come. Touch me-dive into my depths and let me enfold you with the softness of my living cunt."
Martha heard a mewling sound, which she recognized as coming from herself. She dipped down and stared with awe into the woman's pussy in front of her. Her fingers pried and parted and moved over every particle of the slippery flesh, then retraced their paths and did it again.
"Put your finger in me, Martha. Let me show you what I can do there to a man's prick. Then you will know what to do with one too."
Martha swallowed hard. She couldn't stop herself. She extended her middle finger and slid it softly into the slippery hole. She felt the convulsions inside Alva's vagina. The barrier was missing, and she could sink it deep. She heard the soft moan that came from Alva's lips, and she felt the way her pelvis began to move.
It went up and down gently, around in circles. Martha held her finger still and felt the soft walls close down around it and pull inward while Alva fucked her cunt around its stiff length. She felt her own pussy throb and move from the intense passion that had been built into it in the past hours, and she couldn't stop herself from bringing her other hand down and cupping the seeping mouth.
"Do it," Alva said, her eyes bright with passion. "Play with yourself while I watch and fuck your finger."
"Oh... oh... oh..." Martha gasped. "I couldn't...."
Alva moved her hand. Her fingertip rested against the top of her cleft. She began rolling the shiny red ball of her clit with it and gasped.
"I'm doing it. You're watching me do it to myself. There is nothing to hide, Martha-nothing."
Martha drew in her breath with a ragged sound. She watched the tumid ball of nerves swell toward the tickling finger without shame, without hesitation. She parted her thighs as much as she could and laid one finger along the length of her own slit. She began moving it up and down in the drenched folds of her golden cleft.
"I wish I had my toy," she gasped suddenly.
Alva's hips swiveled in a small circle, and her muscles pulled inward. "You have a toy? I've had toys. The toys are no good. They don't last. I fuck them until I wear them down, and then I'm disgusted with them."
"I broke mine," Martha confessed. "I threw it to the ground and watched it smash. I hated it because my mother gave it to me. She should have let me be free to find a man."
"Ah! Ah!" Alva gasped. "I wish my father had given me a toy to fuck. I would have fucked with it seven times a day and pretended it was him. Martha, stop playing with yourself. I'm going to come. I want you to watch me come. Spank me when I come. Slap my tits and my ass and make me explode."
"Alva...." Martha gasped.
"Do it! I'm being bad! You've found me fucking on a bag of shit! Punish me! I'm bad-no good! Ah...."
Martha was astounded by the powerful suction along the length of her finger. She felt as if the blood in it were being vacuumed to the tip, that the end would burst and spray Alva's insides.
Alva's pelvis quaked. Her fingers pinched her clit and made it red. She slapped her own tits until Martha lifted her hand and brought it smartly against her flank. Then she exploded in the way she promised she would, pressing her feet firmly into Martha's hips with each rocking spasm.
Martha heard Alva's cries for punishment, and she was reminded of her own desires the night before. She had begged for Ken to hurt her. She had mashed the toy into her sensitive flesh for the pain it gave as much as for the pleasure. She felt odd, hearing the same wishes come from Alva, but she didn't have time to explore the feeling. Alva was lifting up from the bed, and her eyes were blazing with heat.
"Martha, Martha," she whispered softly. "My lovely virgin, the time has come for you."
"Alva, I...." Martha protested.
"Hush-lie back. You have given me more pleasure than the last five men put together. You've made me want to give for once-I mean really give. You can't deprive me of that."
Martha had no choice. She wasn't sure she wanted a choice. Her body was so aflame she could barely think straight. She went down on her back at Alva's insistence, and she moaned when the slim fingers pried her thighs apart.
"Ah," Alva breathed. "It is the pink and gold of sunset. I see the. tremors of the jungle swelling through flesh. I smell the fragrance of the passion flower, and I will taste of its sweet fruit."
She dipped her head. Martha watched the inky gloss of Alva's hair shimmer over her thighs and belly, and she felt its satin touch. She couldn't stop the moan of delight that rose in her throat when she felt Alva's tongue whisper through the golden forest of her pubes, teasing each tendril into a writhing coil of passionate growth, as if she'd endowed them all with independent life.
"Alva, no...." she whimpered.
But she didn't really mean for Alva to stop. She tried to pretend that it was Ken who was between her thighs, that it was his tongue lapping up the inner surfaces of her dewy cunt lips and his breath bathing her tumid flesh with warmth. But Ken didn't have long hair that tickled her thighs and belly. His lips weren't as soft, either. And his tongue tip didn't search out the thrillingly sensitive areas the way the tongue at her pussy was doing.
She couldn't sustain the illusion. In a moment, she didn't know why she bothered to try. She reach down and tangled her fingers in Alva's shiny hair and moaned fervently for the sensations to continue no matter who was causing them.
She waited for the feelings of guilt, but they didn't come. She waited for the first sharp stab of pain to spear through her and make her want more. It didn't come either. She realized suddenly that there was no need for punishment this time. She hadn't offended anyone; she hadn't put anyone off. She hadn't had to stop Alva from making love to her in another way, because there really wasn't another way.
A wave of relaxation passed through Martha and made her spread out fully on her back. Her thighs went wider apart, and her pelvis tipped up with a natural sway. She felt her cunt muscles release their tension and yield softly to the delightful warmth of excited nerves. Alva's tongue lapped up her oozing slit again, and she rolled her head and moaned.
"That's it, Martha-relax. Enjoy it, my sweet. Let yourself swell and grow inside like a ripening bud. When the time comes, you will burst open too, and bloom with beauty."
"Oh, Alva...."
"Yes, yes! Let the power of the jungle feed you and give you life, Martha! Ah, what a sweet, delectable morsel-how dainty and fresh is your pussy against my tongue! Now to taste the source of such perfume, of such honeyed nectar...."
Alva's head wedged firmly between Martha's thighs and her tongue rolled into a tube. She inserted it into the tight, virginal mouth of Martha's yearning cunt and began to unfurl it, applying exquisite pressure to the muscular ring and causing it to quiver with tiny spasms of delight.
"Oh! Oh!" Martha gasped. The whole world was dissolving about her. She felt totally fluid, as if half of her might flow off the edge of the bed, and puddle on the floor. None of it previously, not even the abominable toy, had ever felt like this.
She closed her eyes. The world turned to a bright, warm, yellow-green hue as if she were standing under the jungle canopy watching the sun burst through in liquid drops of gold. Bright colors splashed and spiraled across her vision like the feathers of exotic birds.
As if pausing before her flight into the canopied realms, she glanced around inside her world to be certain there were no reptilian beasts lurking about to snatch her into their cruel jaws. She heard no grunts, no roars, no hissing sounds. There was no drawn, pinched-mouthed woman with cold eyes staring between the leaves. There was nothing to hold her back. She felt truly free to soar to heights unknown before, and she gathered herself for the joyous leap.
A dizzying burst of colors accompanied her flight. She charged into the sky on herons' wings and saw blossoms burst into bloom as she soared past them. Birds trumpeted their songs as if heralding her release. She broke through the canopy into a world of intense light that was blinding in its radiance and then gently began to descend.
"You've seen it, my sweet virgin-you've seen the joys of life."
"Yes! Oh, yes, Alva!"