Rating - NC-17
Disclaimer - Smut, but I gave them brains this time. Also, beware of odd paragraph structure.
Feedback- Dude, you guys are so nice! I honestly wasn't sure if anyone would like it, so I'm glad to see that at least a couple of people did like it.
Summary- Tara is drawing. They play a game. It's fun. Just read it. Gosh.
Another note: This thing won't let me put italics, so just pretend that the italics are there, alerting your brain as to the inflection intended by the person who wrote it.
Once upon a time:
Tara sat on the bed with her sketchbook in her lap, so engrossed in what she was doing that she didn’t notice when Willow came into their bedroom until Willow kissed her lovingly on the head.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” asked Willow, casually. Then, noticing the sketchbook, she leaned over to get a look. “Hey! You didn’t tell me you could draw! That’s not fair!” Willow pouted. Tara laughed.
“You never asked! Anyways… I’m not very good.” Willow could sense Tara’s self-consciousness. She couldn’t imagine how such an amazing creature had ended up with such low self-esteem. Whoever the wiseguy is who made her think she sucks at life-in-general deserves to get a punch to the mouth, she thought protectively.
“Yes you are!” Willow almost screamed. She hopped excitedly onto the bed beside her girlfriend. Pointing to the landscape on the paper, she said, “I couldn’t do that! That’s good! Can I see some more?” Seeing the look of hesitation that crept across Tara’s face, she added, “Pleeeaaaase?” They both knew Tara couldn’t resist Willow’s adorable begging, so Tara gave in pretty much immediately- but not without letting the begging drag on just a tiny bit longer than necessary. It was just so cute, she couldn’t bring herself to end it. And she had to admit, she had a soft-spot for Willow begging. But Tara’s heart could only bare denying Willow for so long… and so the sketchbook was handed over, albeit begrudgingly, to the adorable little woman.
Willow flipped through the pages, being careful not to bend the edges as she carefully admired each drawing. She took them in as fully as she could, trying to imagine what Tara must’ve been thinking when she had drawn each one. Willow flipped slowly past a few landscape sketches, and a drawing of an old church, which she particularly liked. She was given pause when she came to a page filled with Tara’s renderings of Marvin the Martian.
“Awww, Tara, these are so cute!” she said with delight. “How could you have never shown me these?”
“I- I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think they were anything to be shown…” Willow shook her head at Tara’s statement.
“Ok, mister, it’s about time you realized how special you are.” Willow pushed her girlfriend gently down onto her back. Tara raised an eyebrow as Willow straddled her, still looking through the sketchbook, which was now resting on Tara’s voluptuous chest. She came to a section that seemed to be designated for fascinating portraits of interesting people.
“Now,” Willow began, “see this drawing of this old homeless lady with her shopping cart?” Willow gestured to an especially emotion-evoking piece.
“Mmmhmm,” came Tara’s response.
“Well, it’s super-dee-duper good. Tara, look at it! You’re an artiste.” Tara blushed. “In fact…”, Willow continued, “Looking at how you’ve captured all of these people’s essences with just a pencil and some paper… I bet you could do me pretty well.” She looked Tara straight in the eyes as she let her statement settle. Tara’s breath caught in her throat, and she tried to brush off the naughty imagery flashing through her head, not catching on to the fact that Willow had selected her words very carefully to make sure that exactly what was happening… happened.
“Well, yeah…”, she considered the prospect, “I suppose I could, just…”, she sat up and began posing Willow, “Here.” She gently laid Willow down. “Is this ok?”
Willow was taken aback. At first she had been a bit disappointed that Tara had missed her overtly sexual innuendo. But then… Tara had begun posing her… and it was really quite overwhelming to Willow. It was so sensual without being obviously sexual, and she was very much enjoying being gently manhandled by her brown-headed, blue-eyed, big-breasted, big-hearted girlfriend.
Tara continued her careful adjustments to Willow’s pose. Both of their breathing became a little heavy when one of Tara’s hands accidentally brushed the side of Willow’s breast in its heart-wrenchingly-gentle way. Tara cleared her throat.
“Ok, I think we’re all set,” she said, as she openly admired the form lying before her. “Ready?”
“Uh huh,” was all Willow could say. She was all giddy inside, but the potency of the emotion of that moment rendered her speechless.
Tara gave Willow a quick kiss before getting off the bed and pulling up a chair. She gave Willow a quick once-over, although it was entirely unnecessary. She could’ve easily drawn Willow down to every last freckle on memory alone, but she never passed up an opportunity to leer at her hot girlfriend.
She began sketching, holding her pencil loosely, eventually getting into the space she would sometimes get into where her mind took a sabbatical and she was ruled entirely by her heart. Oh, how Willow loved it when Tara was ruled by her heart.
She lay on the bed, trying to remain still, and watched as Tara began to sketch her. Every movement the lithe woman made was so graceful, so gentle. Willow felt her heart swell. She wanted to give herself to this woman, to enable her to create an accurate rendering of Willow’s soul. She wanted Tara to capture her essence, as she had done with the homeless woman and so many others. She wanted Tara to feel her.
With this thought in mind, Willow began to slowly unbutton the top button of her shirt, exposing more and more skin. When Tara glanced up from her sketchpad, she felt a sharp pleasure pierce her in her most vulnerable of areas. But she could sense that this was quickly escalating into a battle of wills, and so she didn’t let on. She simply continued to draw, adding in the newly exposed piece of chest-flesh.
From that point on, every time Tara looked up, Willow had unbuttoned another button, eventually exposing her belly. However, the fabric of her cotton blouse still rested on her small-but-inviting breasts, teasing Tara’s eyes out of her skull. But they both kept their cool, so to speak, and the game continued. What had started out as a sweetly sensual expression of the melding of their souls had turned into a deliciously menacing battle of their respective wills that, somehow, still managed to retain its sweet sensuality.
And, as way leads on to way, Willow decided it was time to up the stakes a little bit. She put her hands on her breasts, over the fabric of her shirt, and waited to catch Tara’s glance. Tara’s eyes were displaying such intensity as she drew that Willow almost didn’t want her to look up… almost. As Willow trailed her fingertips over her hardening nipples, she let out a small, deliberate gasp, causing Tara’s eyes to shoot up from the paper, searching for the source of Willow’s sudden pleasure. Her eyes quickly fixed on the small hands that were tracing their way around nearly-exposed breasts. She gulped. Willow continued to play with her own body.
“You like that, baby? Do you like it when I touch myself?” Tara could only nod. Willow slowly, painstakingly withdrew the fabric that covered her, exposing her cherry nipples to the brisk air and to Tara’s hot gaze. The artist inside of Tara desperately wanted to finish her composition; the lover inside Tara desperately wanted to capture Willow’s essence on paper… but the woman in her was speaking to her from somewhere around the crotch-area, begging desperately for some action. She chose to ignore her own pleas for release and rapture… for the moment, anyway. She continued to sketch, adding the two rosy buds to her creation. She was overcome with a sudden burst of courage.
“That’s good… mmhmm… yeah, leave your shirt on, but open… just like that… yeah,” Tara directed. “Now, um… I think I’m capturing you accurately… but could you… just… slide your hands down your belly? And, um… kind of rest them at the top of your jeans?” She was slightly embarrassed at her own requests.
“Mmmhmm, I most certainly can,” replied Willow, her voice dripping with sensuality. “Whatever you need me to do to get the picture…”, she looked at Tara with growing arousal, “just right.”
Tara continued to sketch even as her breathing quickened. She was a tough competitor in this game that they so loved to play. Willow did as she was told.
“That’s…”, Tara swallowed, “perfect,” she said, as Willow continued teasing herself- and Tara- into a frenzy of desire.
“Perfect, baby? Are you sure? Are you sure you wouldn’t like for me to move my hands a little, oh, I don’t know… lower?” Willow’s voice was laden with unabashed desire and a lust that was spurned on by her deep and abiding love for the woman who was currently sketching her portrait and occasionally glancing up at Willow in admiration and desire.
Willow didn’t need words. She knew what Tara wanted by the look on her face. She, in no particular hurry, slid her hands down and under the waist of her jeans and started to pleasure herself.
“Oh my good lord, Willow! That’s cheating!” Tara protested. Willow’s hands halted their movement. “But… no, don’t stop!” Tara again protested.
“I’m gonna need a firm declaration on that whole ‘rules’ thing…”
“Ok, ok, ok! Not against the rules, not against the rules!” Tara all but shouted. And so Willow resumed her self-love as Tara looked on in awe.
“Baby, you stopped drawing,” Willow observed.
“Because you started doing… that! I figured the little portrait session was pretty much over…”
“No, baby, but it’s not, you see… because I ordered the whole-body portrait. I want you to draw all of me.” At this, Tara gulped.
“All of you… you mean…?”
“I mean.” said Willow calmly, as she continued to play with herself for Tara’s viewing pleasure(s).
Tara quickly picked up her pencil and began adding things to Willow’s "whole-body portrait". She looked back and forth, first to Willow, then to her sketchpad, then back again. The drawing was coming along nicely.
“Baby, I think I wanna get this in a little more detail…” said Tara. “Could you turn this way and…”
“And what?” Willow said as she turned. “Spread Eagle?” she asked, rhetorically… and her actions followed the suit of her words. Game, set, and match.
Tara openly gaped at the sight before her. She began to attempt to continue to draw, but after making a few random marks, she knew it was inevitable that she drop the paper and pencil and go get herself some of that. And so she did.
She practically dove onto Willow. “Oh my god, you’ve been killing me, baby!” She said as she took Willow’s lips into her mouth and swirled her tongue around Willow’s, not stopping to ask for permission to enter. Her hands eagerly traversed the mountains (or hills) and valleys of Willow’s terrain. She squeezed Willow’s ass in her hands, lifting her up slightly and laying her on her back. Willow sucked in air as Tara heaved both of her girlfriend’s legs over her shoulders. She sucked very lightly on Willow’s clit for about a second before moving her tongue to Willow’s entrance. She teased it with short, light strokes of the tongue. She pressed her tongue up against Willow’s entrance for a moment before sliding her tongue achingly slowly into Willow’s hole. She continued to probe, slowly and firmly, all the way in, then all the way out, then in again.
“Ohhh god, Tara! Don’t stop!”
“I’m not stopping,” assured Tara, indeed not stopping. But Willow only heard the sound of muffled words and felt the delicious buzzing of Tara’s mouth.
“Huh?” she asked. Tara stopped.
“I said, ‘I’m not stopping.’” said Tara, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Willow growled in frustration.
“Tara, you’re stopping, you’re stopping!” she whined, both of them too horny to see the irony in that.
Tara plunged her face back into Willow’s lap. She continued her slow, firm strokes. Willow came in the most beautiful way… it was like a slow wave that washed over her, just out of her reach, and the fact that she had to pull it to her made it that much better. Tara drew that one out as long as she could. That was one of her favorite varieties of orgasm to give. Willow’s vaginal wall would clench on her tongue for longer than usual, and she would be so wet by the end of it…
She sucked once, hard, on Willow’s clit. Willow writhed and moaned.
“Does that feel good, baby?” Tara stopped to ask.
“Uhnnn hnnn,” Willow managed.
“Good,” said Tara, as she sucked hard once more, then once again, then once again, sending Willow into a fast, hard orgasm. She screamed Tara’s name, which served to give Tara a metaphorical pat on the ass, and so she knew she should continue. She took Willow’s inner lips into her mouth and sucked as Willow continued to come in her mouth. Tara swallowed, allowing more come to… come into her mouth. Willow continued to experience wave after wave of ecstasy as Tara continued to provide them. Sensing the fact that Willow was coming to the end of her orgasms, Tara thrust two fingers inside her, hard and fast, and directly to her g-spot. She pressed as hard as she could, sending Willow barreling down the slopes of yet another succession of orgasms.
Willow and Tara lay tangled in a heap of limbs, sweat, and come, both trying desperately to catch their breaths, though Tara not quite as desperately as her red-headed counterpart. They said their post-coital “I love you”s and enjoyed the lingering sensations of their lovemaking.
“Tara?” Willow said weakly.
“Yeah?”
“I wanna see my portrait,” said Willow.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”
THE END
Rosenberg and Guildenstern are Dead
“That was such a typical supposedly-funny ending line, Tara! Yay for you- but I don’t know what in the hell it means!” whined Willow.
“It means that you get to make a drawing of me now, and then during the process of you drawing me, we’ll get all turned on again, and then there will be lots of girl-on-girl.”
“Oh, ok.” She pondered for a second. “Yeah, it still doesn’t make sense.”