Will You Live With Me
They lie in the sun together on a beach in Cannes, close enough to the sea so that the water rhythmically laps at their toes. They are both nude above the waist, having removed the tops of their swimsuits as soon as they arrived. It’s early morning and hardly anyone is on the sand, the beach deserted under a pale blue sky, the summer heat not yet evident. They lie on their sides facing each other, gazing at each other, their eyes locked in the customary way of lovers who lock their eyes together to confirm their love.
The older one is the larger woman, large breasts and round hips, a full-curved body she finds unaesthetic even if her lover says she finds it appealing. The older one has gray in her dark hair, gray at the temples, gray eyes and a firm face. The younger one is a blonde, a long slender body with small breasts and hardly any hips. The younger one has long thighs and legs and feet that can excite the older one clothed or unclothed, on a street or in a room, anywhere at all, but always when they recline together like this, facing each other, their knees barely touching, their two bodies parallel, their breasts almost kissing.
At noon, they don their beach robes and leave the beach to return to their room in the hotel. Their bodies are still warm, the smell of the sea still fresh in their hair. Once inside their room, the older one locks the door and moves to the younger one to take her in her arms and kiss her. Their mouths fuse, the older one’s mouth sucking in the lips of the other. The younger woman’s red lipstick is now smeared, and when their lips part, the older woman licks around the mouth of the younger woman to clean the smeared lipstick away. Now the younger woman’s face is wet from the kissing and licking, the moisture glistening on her skin. The older woman strokes her lover’s face with her fingertips, a slow stroking along her temple and down her cheek to her chin.
“I adore you,” the older woman says. “Are you happy here?”
The younger woman’s cheeks are flushed. “Oh, Alice, you know I am.”
“Should we go out to lunch somewhere or have it on the beach?”
“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”
“All right, we’ll go somewhere. You can wear that little yellow dress we bought for you in Paris.”
The younger woman smiles. “Yes!” Then she adds: “I need to pee, I’ll be right back.”
The older woman watches her as she hurries away. Alice loves her. She tells herself that she loves Bette with all her soul. Bette is the woman she has always wanted. Here in Europe they can enjoy each other in a way impossible at home. At home they live apart, two separate lives, brief meetings in the afternoon or evening, but never the intimacy they now have.
Alice sits down on the bed and closes her eyes. Her dream is to have Bette with her always, she and Bette living together as a couple, their bond revealed to the world.
When Bette returns, Alice beckons to her and the younger woman approaches to stand in front of Alice and look down at her with bright eyes. Alice glances at the door to remind herself that it’s locked, then she slides her hands under Bette’s robe, up along the backs of Bette’s thighs to cup her buttocks through her bikini. Bette closes her eyes and murmurs as Alice’s hands fondle her. The room is silent, warm, not even a breeze from the open window that looks out on the sea. The afternoon promises to be as lovely today as it was yesterday.
Her fingers tugging at Bette’s bikini, Alice pulls the little garment down Bette’s thighs and legs and then off Bette’s feet. Then Alice’s hands rise under the robe again, sliding upwards to once more cover Bette’s buttocks with her palms, stroking Bette’s skin, over the compact globes and then into the groove between them. Then her right hand slides around to Bette’s front and then underneath to reach back and stroke Bette’s buttocks again. With a sigh of contentment, Alice rests her forehead against Bette’s belly as her middle fingertip finds Bette’s anus and gently penetrates it, just the opening first with the tip of her finger, then after a while half her finger inside the warm passage.
Bette closes her eyes. Now the sounds of the seagulls can be heard, the squawks of the birds floating into the room as Alice turns her head to lie her cheek against Bette’s robe. Bette shifts her feet on the carpet, widening her legs a bit as Alice’s finger continues to probe her body. Alice responds by pushing the finger more deeply inside the opening, pushing deep until Bette groans.
Alice pulls her head back and she looks up at Bette’s face as she gently turns her finger in Bette’s ass. “Am I hurting you, love?”
Her eyes still closed, Bette shakes her head. “No, not at all.”
When Alice tugs at Bette’s robe, Bette understands what Bette wants and she slips off the robe and tosses it onto the bed. Bette is now naked, her face flushed, her legs apart, her back arched, her eyes closed again as Alice’s finger moves slowly in her ass.
Alice now has her eyes on Bette’s pubis, the small patch of blonde hair on the mons, the lips below hairless, the top of the slit visible. With her finger still inside Bette’s ass, she tilts her palm upward and presses it against Bette’s sex to feel its wetness. Then she finds the opening of the cunt with her thumb and she pushes her thumb inside it until the last knuckle of her thumb is pressed against the mouth of Bette’s vagina.
“Do it,” Alice says. “Do it while I work you. I want you to come.”
A soft moan escapes Bette’s lips as she slides her right hand down over her belly to find her clitoris. Using two fingers, she starts a circular rubbing of her clitoris as Alice’s fingers move slowly in her cunt and ass.
The seagulls are quiet again. A small white cloud has appeared from nowhere to drift near the horizon. The faint wail of a police klaxon dies out somewhere in the city. Bette tilts her head up and opens her mouth as the orgasm arrives.
* * *
They have lunch on the terrace of a café near the Hotel Majestic. Alice is always proud to be in public with Bette, happy to show the world the beauty of her lover, the admiration in her lover’s eyes.
Bette wears a yellow summer dress, her lovely shoulders and arms bare, her eyes still bright with the pleasures she experienced earlier. Alice tells herself she adores this young woman. She adores Bette’s face and body now tinted beige by the sun. She adores Bette’s poetic nature, the musings revealed to her when they enjoy the arts together. In only three months they have become passionate lovers, and during this time in Europe their love has deepened immensely. Alice is happy. She feels so warm toward Bette, so loving, wanting her at every moment, always gazing at her with a mixture of lust and love that makes each hour an adventure.
Now Alice shifts her body in her chair and says, “”I have a proposal.”
Bette looks at her. “A proposal?”
“Yes, dear, a proposal. I want you to move in with me when we return home. My place is certainly large enough for the two of us. I want us to be together always.”
Bette smiles. “A marriage proposal?”
“If you want to see it that way. I suppose we could do that also. But the most important thing is that we be together. Will you do it, sweetie?”
Bette hesitates. She looks away, gazes at a couple at another table, a young man and young woman holding hands as they talk. Then she turns to Alice again.
“I don’t know,” Bette says. “I’ve never lived with anyone and I don’t think I’d like it. Alice, everything is so fine the way it is, why can’t we just keep it that way?”
Alice tries to hide her disappointment by squirming in her chair, changing the angle of her body, moving her hands on the table. She feels a sudden weakness in her legs, a tightness in her chest. Then she stops fidgeting and she remains immobile, motionless. Bette watches her. They watch each other. Again, Alice tells herself that she’s hopelessly in love with the girl. She gazes at Bette’s face, at the beauty of her lightly rouged lips.
“Let’s go back to the hotel,” Alice says. “We’ll rest awhile, and then we’ll go shopping on the boulevard. Would you like that, darling?”
Bette smiles and looks happy. “Oh yes. You know how much I love shopping.”
* * *
Inside their hotel room, neither of them are thinking about shopping on the boulevard. Certainly not Alice. She’s kneeling before Bette, who sits naked in one of the easy chairs near the window with her legs over the arms, her thighs spread wide to show her sex, her palms on her belly with her fingertips just touching her labia. Alice slowly runs her hands over Bette’s smooth legs and down the insides of her thighs to her groin. Their hands meet, their eyes meet, and then Bette pulls her hands away from her belly to leave the field to Alice.
With a gentle tug at Bette’s waist, Alice urges her to slide forward on the seat of the chair and then pull her knees even further back. Now Bette is completely exposed, everything visible, her thighs flexed, her legs dangling over the arms of the chair, a faint blush on her face.
Alice is still disappointed by Bette’s refusal to live with her, but the joy of having Bette like this pushes her disappointment into a corner of her mind. She loves doing it this way, having a lover spread out like this, a feast waiting for her. She remembers so many women on chairs like this, so many cunts waiting for her mouth. She always loves it. Good lord, you’re a lech, Alice thinks.
She leans forward to sniff at Bette first, to get her scent again, to get the musk of Bette’s sex in her nose. She’s thankful Bette hasn’t yet washed away the hours since the morning, the mixture of natural scents and faint perfume that makes a cunt so alluring to her. Alice sniffs at the top of Bette’s sex and then lower down, her nose barely touching the younger woman’s body. Bette’s cunt is wet, the lips gaping. Her clitoris remains covered by its hood, but the flesh around it looks engorged. Alice is always thrilled to see a lover’s cunt swollen with desire.
Finally, Alice starts licking her, the insides of her thighs first, wet licking near Bette’s sex, then lightly over the outer lips, then down again, lower down to the perineum, then over the little knot of the anus, then back again to the slit of Bette’s cunt and up to the hood of her clitoris, all with her tongue alternately licking and fluttering like a butterfly against Bette’s flesh.
Then Alice moves her face in, presses her mouth against the cunt, a light grazing at first, then more pressure, grinding a bit, then sucking all of the cunt into her mouth, the flaps of Bette’s labia sucked between her teeth, her tongue extending to scour the opening of Bette’s vagina. Alice’s nose is now pressed against Bette’s clitoris as she moves her face in all directions, her nose rubbing the clitoris, massaging the bud in its hood. Then down to the vaginal opening again, her mouth on it, her tongue scooping the fluids, mixing Bette’s juices with her own saliva, sucking and swallowing, sucking and swallowing.
Now Alice’s nose slides inside the mouth of Bette’s vagina to get the full scent of her cunt, Alice’s face rotating so that her nose widens the opening, pushes in, pulls out, pushes in again. And while her nose does this, her tongue extends its full length to reach down to flutter against Bette’s anus, slide over it, tickle it, the tip of her tongue sensing the ring of the sphincter, caressing it, tapping against it.
When Bette groans and pulls at Alice’s hair, Alice withdraws her nose from Bette’s vagina and she rubs the wet tip of her nose against Bette’s clitoris, against the hood, pushing the hood back with her nose to expose the little nub. Alice finally sucks the protuberance of swollen flesh into her mouth, fastening her lips on it and tugging at it as she presses her mouth more forcefully into Bette’s crotch and vigorously shakes her face to bring Bette to orgasm.
As Bette cries out, her thighs trembling, Alice keeps her mouth locked on Bette’s sex, her lips sucking hard at Bette’s clitoris, two fingers now sliding into Bette’s pulsing vagina to feel Bette’s contractions. Finally, as Bette’s spasms lessen, Alice moves her tongue to Bette’s urethra, probes it to get some of the brine that has come to the opening during Bette’s climax. She sucks at it, adds it to the mix already in her mouth, and then she kisses Bette’s sex one last time before pulling her face away from Bette’s thighs.
Alice looks at the younger woman, at the slender body, the legs up, the cunt still dripping. You’re an old dyke, Alice thinks. Never mind living together, settle for the feast. She leans forward and kisses Bette’s knee.