19.
 “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Know one thing.”
“What?”
“No matter what happens, I would never speak against you or hurt you. And as long as you don’t hurt me, nobody here will speak against you.”
“That’s good to know.”
Moira’s mouth found hers. She felt Moira’s tongue exploring around her mouth, sizing its exact shape, finding it cute, and plunging in, pushing her teeth apart, seeking her tongue. Taxi lay still and let her do what she wanted. It had been so long since Taxi had slept with a woman, that she could barely remember. And never with such a soft, pampered woman, in such exquisite linens, with clean fluffy flannel night gowns.
Moira was a little hellion, with firm hands and a sure sense of where she wanted to go. Her breathing was machine-like; Taxi stroked Moira’s hair gently and listened to the hissing in and out of her breath. She ran her hand along Moira’s back, and felt the heart beating very rapidly all the way there, between the shoulder blades.
Taxi rose up slightly, pulling off her nightgown.
“What’s the matter?” Moira whispered.
“Nothing. I just want to lay this on my face.”
Taxi laid the soft flannel on her face. It felt sexy, this kind of cloth she’d almost never seen before, now imbued with the smells and essences of both herself and Moira, almost like a cozy refuge within the severe essences and smells of the dormitory.
Moira’s hands and lips roved down under the sheets. She was much gentler and more knowing than Sam, though not more loving. Moira was hungry where Sam was loving. Taxi waited, her legs pulled up, her arms linked under her knees, while Moira brought her to orgasm. It was a long, slow affair, with Taxi letting herself be carried along rather than trying to help. The length and the slowness of it made her surprised by the depth and intensity of her orgasm. When it was over, the impact carried her over on her stomach, and she lay exhausted. “Please,” Moira whispered, planting dozens of pecks and kisses on Taxi’s buttocks, “please, now me.”
Taxi rolled over and reached for her. Moira rested on her, a light weight, like air, but that light weight succeeded in putting Taxi to sleep. She must have snored, for every little while she woke herself up and there was Moira, rubbing herself against Taxi’s upraised leg, trying to reach her own climax. After a while, Moira sank tiredly down on her side beside Taxi.
Taxi, feeling a little rested, and remembering she needed Moira to get out of here with an engine, put an arm around her. Moira startled. “Taxi! I thought you were asleep.”
“I was only resting up,” Taxi whispered. Pretending Moira was Sam, she tongue-kissed her. Moira was so hungry she moaned and nearly cried. Taxi put one powerful thigh between Moira’s slender thighs and began to rock her. “Oh yes,” Moira whispered, “oh yes,” over and over, rocking herself in a secondary motion within Taxi’s, until the bed emitted regular, fast creaking noises. Taxi hauled both of Moira’s knees up and made her hold them while she did to Moira what Moira had done to her. It was mechanical, and she wasn’t overwhelmed by it, but she could feel the wild energy coursing through Moira, and presently, as Moira came, Taxi, to her surprise, climaxed with her.
Afterward, in the quiet dark, Taxi lay on her back, with Moira on top of her. Moira’s knees were on either side of her, and Taxi used her elbows to hug Moira’s knees close to her ribs. That left her hands just free enough to reach Moira’s breasts. She felt the Moira’s bush gently brush against the softness of her stomach. Moira lay cheek to cheek with Taxi, Moira’s arms framing Taxi’s head. They lay thus until early into the morning, when they were stiff and and assumed a more comfortable position together. When that happened, Taxi looked up muzzily and saw that everyone was still asleep. Moira was briefly awake too, fondling Taxi. “See? We would be good together. I would gladly take your man anytime, to keep peace between us.”
Taxi stroked her gently. “I would not take you out there for anything in the world. You deserve better.”
“I could wear a gun and fight.”
“You don’t know anything about those things.” As she argued, she did not want to let on that she didn’t have even a slight crush on this woman. Yes, they’d had sex, but you ate dinner without falling in love with the dish. She wanted to tell Moira to be still, to stop talking about this foolish business of leaving here, but she needed the helium drive and she really did miss and need and love Sam, so she simply gave up and fell asleep.
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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