Kindred Spirit Lodge Presents

Heron's Fan Fiction

Dream Lover

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DISCLAIMERS: Any resemblance to Xena and Gabrielle who belong to MCA/Universal/Renaissance, is intentional. This is a not-for profit uber fan fiction. No copyright infringement is intended. The rest of the tale is mine with all copyrights thereto. EXPLICIT SEX: between two adult women. NC-17. © P. Lord, Nov.1999. Feedback to HeronW@AOL.com

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Dream Lover

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A woman's writer's block is overcome with a little help from a friend and a stranger?

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Jennath pulled Friday's mail out from her box, and let the little spring-hinged door clank shut before she locked it. As always, she sorted the gold from the dross. There was very little of the former what with the overwhelming junk, supermarket flyers and bills.

"No, no, yes, no. I tried that. Yes, both ways. No, I don't know. No, again. Are there any more questions? Good. What the fu--?" came out as she saw the familiar square creamy envelope. This was the third one in as many weeks. Generic self-stick stamp, no return and her name and address probably done by a laser printer. No more crooked 'j' that matches the Brother typewriter key like one of those fifties suspense novels. O joy, here it was, a cold late January, and she was stuck with some obsessed wacko stalking her.

She ripped off the side and pulled out the single Tarot card she knew would be in there. Major Arcana, the Moon. Add that to the Two of Cups and the Nine of Pentacles and in oh… less than eighteen months, she'd have the whole bloody set.

A very ticked off Jennath decided to hold off crumpling the damned piece of cardboard until she was inside her home. She proceeded up the two fights to her apartment with the bags of groceries in one hand and mail and briefcase in the other.

Why wasn't Kika barking? The Westie terrier always greeted her before she even opened the door. She nearly broke the key off in the lock, twisting it hard before she shouldered open the heavy fireproof door.

"Kika?" She heard the door lock shut behind her with half her attention. She dropped the Quick Mart bags, mail, and the briefcase in front of the kitchen before she rushed through the short hallway into the spartan living room.

"We're fine," came in a low contralto from a figure on the couch, a dozen feet away. A woman was hidden in the shadows, brought by the late afternoon sun hiding behind the cedars.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Jennath demanded.

Kika was lying on the couch with her head in the stranger's lap. The small white dog gave a quiet yip to acknowledge her mistress, then looked up with her big brown eyes at her new friend.

"Of course you should say good evening. Behind the ear scratches can't last forever," softly admonished the stranger.

The Westie sighed and jumping down, trotted over to say hello, her toenails clicking like an Irish step dancer on the hardwood floor. She stood on her hind legs and wriggled in delight as Jennath absentmindedly patted her head. The stranger stood up.

Jennath reached for the portable phone, "I'm going to call the police, and they're gonna lock your ass in the slammer for breaking and entering."

The woman came up to her, the low sunlight from the west window behind her in a nimbus, preventing any details until they were face to face. The stranger wasn't very tall; the top of her head just came to Jennath's lips. She was beautiful, but not from any one feature. Her pale rose lips were well defined with the shy concavity holding a shadow. Her nose was even, the nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Her eyes were green or blue or amber, they seemed to change, as Jennath looked down a bit to meet her frank gaze. A red-gold downpour of hair fell to the middle of her back. She wore a long-sleeved aquamarine silk shirt, obviously sans bra, and simple black jeans. She was perhaps twenty, twenty-two.

Her fingers entwined with Jennath's free hand, palm to back of hand. Then lifting her wrist, she turned and brushed her lips across Jennath's palm then out, over her third finger to the tip. Her smile teased and promised, and then no more. Jennath watched her walk out without another single syllable. The door shut behind her with a snick of the automatic lock.

"She was barefoot, Kika…" Jennath noted. She was confused, oddly, her anger had dissipated. Her worry of a psycho stranger in the city seemed unimportant. There was another card in her hand, a new one. The Fool.

Jennath tossed the card aside and went down on one knee to examined Kika, just in case the woman had hurt her. Now that seemed rather foolish. The terrier was fiercely loyal in every fiber of her tiny body when it concerned her mistress; but why had she fallen for this interloper?

"Helluva way to start the weekend," muttered Jennath. Kika wagged her whole scruffy body in agreement.

**********

After a pensive dinner, Jennath popped the tab on a can of rootbeer and sat down at her computer. She opened her latest work of erotica, only three pages worth, but it was coming along well, when the muse of smut cooperated. She seemed to be on vacation right now and Jennath was getting royally pissed. She hated writer's block. Back on the couch, Kika lay with her head on her paws, bright eyes watching her mistress, like any other night.

Rain pattered then rose in a muted roar as the storm advanced. The lights flickered once, again, then went out with a theatrical crash of thundering cymbals, taking the tale back into megabyte limbo.

"Dammit! Dammit, Goddammit." Kika's head perked up at the outburst. "I forgot to hit save and that means I've just lost all the work I sweated over... SHIT!" Jennath slumped over the keyboard, head in her hands, trying to remember and recreate what she'd written, between cursing in several languages. Not that she was a linguist, but she liked collecting scatological comments in various tongues. It made for more creative swearing.

A low yip came from Kika.

"What does that translate, dog into English cussing?" Jennath asked in a monotone, her eyes still closed.

"Try, hello," came from a familiar voice.

Jennath raised her head so fast her neck bones popped. She saw that more than a dozen thick candles were lit, releasing the odors of cinnamon, bayberry and a subtle lily of the valley, among others. But she didn't have any scented candles. Kika was off the couch, wagging her hello to her new friend.

The same stranger stood a few feet away with a lit match. She blew it out and placed it by the side of the last wax cylinder of deep burgundy, on its saucer. Tonight she wore silk, two forest green squares, fastened at the shoulders with silver clips connected by a long silver chain. The translucent cloth barely concealed her full firm breasts, their tips prominent in the chill air. They were just the right size for her compact body. Her toned stomach was bare; her navel might be a promising glen for faeries. A third, larger square of the same color, was tied up at one hip. An entire smoothly muscled leg was exposed, nearly all the way up to...

"You?" Jennath jumped up, "How did you-- Who do you think you are, busting in here like this?"

"I'm Chymera. I'm here to give you everything you want, and never knew you needed." She held out another card as she approached the taller woman.

Jennath couldn't fail to see how the muted light did wondrous things for the younger woman. It played reverently about the wealth of her tumbling hair. It painted shadows and curves with luscious strokes around the trim, very feminine shape. Jennath tried to keep her indignation above her lust.

"You're out of your fucking mind--" She knocked the card from the girl's hand.

"No, I'm out of yours." Chymera's indulgent sea-green eyes took in all of Jennath, from her fuzzy slippers, the old denims, faded purple sweatshirt and tousled long black hair. They accepted everything, totally, gazing into Jennath's blue eyes; eyes that had seen two decades more than this intruder did, but sometimes missed what she most deserved.

Easily within reach of Jennath, the girl turned her back. Her hands crossed to opposite shoulders and she opened the silver clasps. The silks floated slowly to the floor, as if reluctant to leave their charge exposed. A phoenix tattoo made of delicate lines opened its wings over her shoulder blades as Chymera stretched her arms to the sides. The bird's head and crest was hidden under the girl's hair, at the nape of her neck. The pinion feathers spread for soaring, melting into her ivory skin and emerging again, truly reborn. The elaborate tail feathers disappeared under the silk at the girl's hips.

Jennath held her breath as she took a step. She placed her hands on the bare shoulders; she must see the resurrected bird in its entirety, she must. She bent and pulling back Chymera's hair, following the lines of the phoenix's head. Jennath inhaled the girl's subtle aroma and her lips brushed over the pulse point at the side of her neck. She felt the blood pound beneath her lips and a low growl came from the back of her throat.

Chymera leaned back as Jennath's long slender fingers slid over her ribs then up and around to squeeze the fulsome globes. Chymera turned her head; her hand reached up to grasp the dark one above her, as she demanded a kiss from Jennath. Their lips pulled and tugged, tongues dueled in a sweet battle of exploration, slipping and probing as they wrestled together.

The blonde turned in Jennath's arms. Never breaking the kiss, she slipped her hands under the taller woman's sweatshirt. Jennath was breathing heavily as she broke away and yanked the offending cloth over her head. For a few precious seconds she lost contact with the smaller woman, then she was free to continue.

They were at the sofa; Jennath pushed the younger woman down, her knee between her thighs. Jennath buried her face in the red gold mass of hair, licking and nipping at Chymera's ear, fingers woven through the bright locks where the firelight danced between shadows.

Chymera's breasts pressed hard against Jennath's and she moaned, her nails digging in under the dark mane. Jennath smiled and leaned back, watching the hooded green eyes that met her intense blue ones.

"You want me to take everything, yet here you are blushing." The older woman watched amused as the flush spread further down to the girl's breasts, compromising her boldness. Chymera was breathing heavily, her lips parted, the tip of her tongue slipped out to moisten them.

"Do you know what you got yourself into? Barging in here? Taking over my life, teasing and taunting, then leaving me in the dark?" Jennath scrutinized the small form under her.

"That's why I light the candles, rather than curse the darkness," Chymera said as she smiled up at the older woman.

Jennath gave a short bark of laughter and fell on her, letting the animal feed on the sacrifice offered. Her fingers kneaded Chymera's firm breasts, twisting the taut peaks as they darkened and swelled under her ferocious assault. She bit down on a pebbled aureole and pulled unmercifully, forcing the smaller woman to raise up, trying to lessen the pain. Jennath's next bite drew blood over the blonde's heart but she didn't beg for the aggression to stop. She just held tighter to the dark woman, as if she needed this roughness, this power, and she couldn't bear to stop her.

A lump pushed up at Jennath's ribs; the knotted end of Chymera's wrap was in her way. The chain and clips had been tucked onto the side. One tug and the silk was free and pushed away. Jennath stopped for a moment and examined the clasps and chain. A sly smile crossed her lips. She pressed open the stylized serpent jaws, then let them close over Chymera's nipples.

The blonde hissed and shut her eyes at the sudden fire that exploded from the metal crimping her nipples. The bright lancing settled into an erotic pulsing in her loins.

Jennath picked up the chain and let it lie between the imprisoned breasts. She leaned to one side, watching the girl's erratic breathing as she tried to get ahead of the burning pressure. Jennath lipped at the chain, straightening it down as her fingers traced over the sides of her ribcage then to the end of the chain, at the edge of the plump furred mons.

Jennath rubbed her chin over the thatch of coppery hair, inhaling the ripe scent of arousal. She sat up, and grasping Chymera's knees, opened the girl's strong thighs, She could see the moisture glistening as the delicate fleshy folds parted.

"I hope you realize, you've got me right where I want you." The dark woman's voice was husky.

"Always," an intense sea-green gaze met Jennath's and held. Chymera nodded and hung one leg over the side of the couch, allowing for even greater access.

Jennath's nails scraped up and down on Chymera's inner thighs; the smaller woman trembled. Jennath hooked a finger over the chain, and pulled gently and waited.

"One word… " Jennath whispered; then she bent over and blew on the inner lips once, then again, watching the girl over the landscape of her toned stomach and sweetly tormented breasts.

Her hair spread about in a careless glory, Chymera ran her fingers through the candle-lit locks then clenched her hands into fists.

"Please… " Her low voice was commanding but the word was begging.

"Just what I wanted to hear," Jennath nodded slowly with a wry expression of satisfaction. She slid back down and spread the blonde's velvety labia wide. She bit hard and sharp on the exposed clitoris. Jennath heard Chymera cry out, then moan, her hips already trying to lift under the extra weight as the older woman held her down. Jennath licked about the smooth inner sides, purposely avoiding the sensitive bud.

Jennath slipped two fingers of her free hand into the wet hot darkness, and spreading them, rotated around the edges of the slit. She licked in slow lazy circles around the turgid bump, feeling it slip out of hiding, and growing taut under the frenzy. She added a third finger inside Chymera's tightness, her fluids coating her hand, dripping down her wrist.

Her arms over the firmly muscled thighs, Jennath pulled at the reddened clit with her teeth, grazing about the base and flipping her tongue rapidly over the swollen pearl. She heard a high pitched keening coming from Chymera so she slowed her advance and instead, ran her tongue down to the overflowing fount. Circling about the opening, lapping up the delicious nectar, she was surrounded with a scent of wonder and surrender.

Still with the chain about her last three fingers, Jennath's hand was long enough for her thumb to circle about the pulsing nub. She added a fourth finger inside of Chymera, driving in deep with hard strokes as the passage grew slicker. The tendons stood out in the girl's neck and her face was flushed, her body glistening with perspiration.

"Please…" she repeated, every part of her begging now. Jennath drove her arm in firmly, her whole hand fitting completely inside the narrow channel. Chymera's hips jerked harder and higher with the incoming thrusts and Jennath could see tears coming from her tightly shut eyes. Jennath resumed nibbling at the near bursting tip, pumping faster inside. She sucked hard one last time and yanked off the clips.

Chymera exploded with a wordless cry, her head slamming repeatedly into the couch in reflex from the orgasm. Her inner walls contracted about Jennath's fist like the pounding release of her heart. With that inter-muscular aid, Jennath gently removed her hand and gave one last lick over the twitching bud, before sliding up and holding the girl in her arms.

"My turn," Chymera whispered, as rain pelted the windows.

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Jennath's breasts were entire worlds unto themselves that Chymera explored thoroughly, licking and suckling, tracing the delicate blue veins over and over, like a map leading to the finest treasure. Her hands divested the older woman of the last barrier of clothing. She then lay on the rug, head on a low pillow, with Jennath's knees on either side of her head. The older woman lowered herself to the loving lips.

Her long fingers cradled the fire-kissed locks as Chymera's mouth wreaked delicious havoc. Jennath's eyes never left the half-hidden face beneath her. The blonde was just as committed to detail here, every swipe of her tongue, the chattering bites and insistent tugging. She molded the pliant flesh and coaxed the dark woman to the peak repeatedly before backing down.

Jennath was shuddering like high-spirited thoroughbred, when the final swirling pressure burst from Chymera's relentless tongue at her core. A roaring scream awoke Kika; Jennath couldn't stop herself from falling in a shower of hot blue stars if she were to die for the moment.

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The candles burned on.

The two women were breast to breast, feeling each other's heartbeats, rocking as one entity as the crescendo built. Right legs over the other's left, foreheads touching, the exhale of one becoming the inhale of the other. The double-ended rosewood phallus filling and drawing back in each flooded center. They rose and fell upon the thick rippled polished shafts, until the nova encompassed them, and their soft ragged cries came in a duet of ecstasy.

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Chymera lay prone, stretched out with her head resting on her hands; her long gold-washed hair pulled to one side. Jennath half-reclined behind her, marking each feather, arch and turn of the elaborate phoenix impressed into the flawless parchment of Chymera's flesh. Low giggles came from the younger woman as the older woman's touch hit a ticklish spot.

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The lightning flashed overhead. Immediately the thunderclap shook the room, startling Kika to emit a high pitched yap. Jennath looked up from the darkened computer screen to see a figure outlined in the after-flash. Her heart was beating about four hundred-mph.

A last intermittent flash showed something small on the floor; there was no one standing there. The dog pawed at it as Jennath came over to investigate. The lights came back, flickering reluctantly before staying on. It was a Tarot card with a beast depicted that had the head and forelegs of a lion, the back half of a goat and the tail of a serpent. On the back, in familiar green ink was written: 'the Chimera is a creature of the sky, linked to storms and thunder'.

"That damned seabird," Jennath picked up the portable and speed-dialed.

"Hello--"

"You bitch, you did this!"

There was laughter on the other end. "Well, you said you were getting writer's block and you needed a jump-start. I thought a bit of mystery and magic might do the trick. That, and your peanut butter and Prozac."

"You'll never break me, Piper," Jennath threatened.

"But did it work?"

There was a thoughtful silence as Jennath caught her breath, "Oh yeah. Definitely."

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The End - 'Dream Lover' - by Heron

Heron's Fan Fiction Index

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