Sorry for the long delay, but I had some very bad news about a dear friend of mine and really wasn't in the mood to write or post or do much of anything. Life always has a way of smacking the crap out of you when you think things are gong pretty well, you know?
Anyway, here's the last bit. Hope you like it. Can't really say when DF will be up. Hopefully soon.
*****
Tara raised inquisitive eyes as Willow slid from her chair and stood, casually holding a hand out to her lover. She realized she must have paused a moment too long, cause she was only able to watch silently as Willow leaned down and took hold of her wrist with one hand while she pushed her chair in under the desk with the other. Then Willow took a half-step so she was standing in front of Tara, between her legs, her own knees touching the wood of the Tara’s chair; the redhead took Tara’s other hand in hers and bent low, her face hovering in front of the blonde’s.
“Come. With. Me,” she repeated, a whispered order not to be disobeyed. Willow straightened and tugged on Tara’s hands, bringing the blonde up to her feet in one go, their bodies pressed close together in the space between Tara’s chair and Willow’s.
The absolute intensity of Willow’s eyes made Tara think of something wild.
Something dangerous.
Something predatory.
Oh. . . . Tara felt her heart race faster as she stared into those rapacious emeralds.
. . . my.Willow released her lover’s hands and sidestepped out from where she stood, backing away from the blonde slowly. The redhead dipped her head and raised her eyebrows slightly, a silent beckoning for Tara to follow her.
Tara felt her feet gliding over the carpeted floor before she had the conscious thought to actually walk. She watched a smile touch the corner of her lover’s mouth briefly before the redhead turned her back on her and continued to move between the study tables. Tara followed without hesitation, as if hypnotized and subconsciously compelled to follow.
The two wound their way through the maze of studious coeds, Tara trailing Willow by half a dozen feet. The redhead led her lover farther from the open study area, deeper into the more secluded recesses of the library stacks, never once turning to see if Tara was still there.
She knew she was.
She could feel her.
Willow rounded the corner of the section for Statistics and entered the row, proceeding to the middle of the aisle before stopping. She waited several seconds before turning around, knowing full-well Tara would be there, too.
The two lovers stood twenty feet apart, staring at one another silently.
Longingly.
Lovingly.
Willow swallowed hard and slowly moistened her lips, her blood pounding furiously in her ears. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice shattering the deafening silence surrounding them.
Again, with no thought, Tara found herself walking, pulled by some invisible force towards her ultimate destination.
My Willow. She stopped inches from Willow, her body a livewire of anticipation.
Willow’s eyes roamed over her lover’s face, relearning, re-memorizing, rejoicing in the beauty she found there. When her eyes finally returned to the blonde’s, she felt herself being pulled into their blue depths.
Pulled in.
Pulled under.
“Tara.”
Willow whispered her lover’s name, knowing in her heart— in her soul— that that word, that name, encompassed everything she had ever wanted.
Everything she had ever needed.
Everything she had ever desired.
Everything she had ever loved.
For Tara, her name falling from Willow’s lips was like coming home, to the place she always wanted to be.
To the place she always needed to be.
To the place she always desired to be.
To the place she always loved to be.
Willow cupped Tara’s face in her hands and pulled her close, their lips pausing a mere fraction from one another. The redhead licked her lips again and took a deep breath. “Tara.”
Tara’s heart hammered in her chest, the anticipation of Willow’s lips on hers, of Willow’s hands on her, of Willow— herself— it was all her undoing. She reached out and took hold of the redhead’s waist, hooking her fingers inside the belt loops of her lover’s jeans, and pulled Willow close to her, fitting their bodies together perfectly.
Willow. . . . Finally, Willow covered Tara’s lips with the warmth of her own, lightly at first, simply satisfied with savoring their taste. It was only when Tara groaned her pleasure that Willow heightened the kiss. Her tongue swiftly invaded the blonde’s mouth, delving for secrets that only she knew existed there, discovering new facets of her lover with each and every response the blonde could not suppress. Willow drank in Tara’s soft sounds of pleasure, as if they were sweet wine, and she thirstily sought out more by dropping one hand from Tara’s face to her chest, just above the scoop-neck of her blouse, feeling her lover’s heart beat a staccato rhythm. The redhead’s hand continued over the material, cupping Tara’s breast in her palm while she expertly thumbed the nipple until she could feel it jut out through the material.
Again Tara moaned as she leaned into Willow’s hand, pressing her body more firmly into the redhead’s touch.
Willow. . . .Tara’s softness melded into Willow’s flawlessly, two pieces of the same puzzle. Willow slid her other hand from Tara’s cheek, wrapping it around the base of the blonde’s nape, draping her fingers in golden silk. She pulled Tara into her, devouring her, drawing her inside like precious oxygen.
Tara. . . .Tara’s fingers abandoned Willow’s jeans for her lower back, again inching beneath her shirt to knead and caress the creamy skin hidden underneath. Unlike earlier, Willow’s flesh was hot to the touch, sending prickling flames through the blonde’s palms.
Tara’s touch inflamed the redhead further, and Willow felt her body, her mind, her soul coming undone. Abruptly, she pivoted their bodies, evoking a startled gasp from Tara; she pushed the blonde against the stack, pressing her length fully upon her lover.
Wooden shelves cut into Tara’s back and hips and legs, but she felt no pain. She could feel only Willow.
Willow consumed her.
Willow filled her senses beyond capacity, overriding any sensations beside pleasure. Tara thrust her hands further under the redhead’s shirt, up over her back until her palms splayed over the redhead’s shoulder blades; once there, she dug her fingers deeply into the flesh, pulling Willow closer, until there was no distance between them.
Willow pressed her hips into Tara’s, even as her hands made their way down the blonde’s body to her skirt; she let her fingers walk the material up her lover’s legs, the hemline cresting at Tara’s waist. Willow lifted her hips away from Tara’s, just enough to nudge the blonde’s legs apart and allow one of her own between.
Willow’s thigh rubbed against Tara’s center as it slid between her legs, and the blonde shuddered; an aching need centered low within her, spiraling downward to her heated core.
Oh, Goddess. . . Willow.Willow’s hands glided over her thighs, moving around until they cupped the blonde’s buttocks fully; she lifted Tara’s hips until the blonde rested more thoroughly on her upper leg and her own knee was levered against a lower shelf.
Willow’s thumbs hooked the elastic of Tara’s panties, her nails grazing under the silky material before slowly rolling them over the rising slope of her rear. Tara’s hands retraced their path down Willow’s back until she, too, held the redhead’s bottom in her own hands. Willow pushed her hands inside the silky barrier, her fingers kneading the yielding flesh in a methodic rhythm.
Tara tore her mouth from Willow’s as the redhead’s hands roamed over her, as her thigh rubbed against her, back-and-forth, back-and-forth; she looked into Willow’s eyes, her breath coming in deep, fast gasps. She arched into her lover, throwing her arms backwards, towards the shelves, trying to steady herself; her elbows struck several books, shoving them across the small wooden space. A loud
thump-thump-thump heralded their landing on the floor on the opposite side of the stack.
They froze.
Someone had to have heard.
Their breathing, laden by the intensity of their desire, swirled between them.
Someone had to hear that, too.
Tara glanced to her right, back up the aisle the way they had entered; after what seemed an eternity, she realized that no one had heard. A smile touched her lips.
My baby knows the secret spots. Suddenly she felt Willow tremble, and her eyes riveted back to her lover’s instantly. Willow was staring at her, only her, her green eyes darkened by a primal hunger; Tara’s breath hitched in her throat at their burning intensity. “Willow?” she whispered, as another shiver ran through the redhead’s body.
Willow didn’t answer; she quietly withdrew her hands and brought them to rest on Tara’s shoulders. She closed her eyes and let her forehead drop down against the blonde’s sternum.
Tara closed her eyes briefly as she inhaled the scent of Willow’s hair. She felt Willow’s hands become fists, her fingers curling tightly in on themselves, crushing the material of her shirt in their grasp. “Willow?” Tara lifted her hands and carefully placed them on the redhead’s back, feeling her lover shiver instantly at her touch. “Sweetie?” Willow raised her head, looking directly into Tara’s eyes; the redhead’s breathing was heavy, as if she were out of breath. Tara’s brow creased.
Willow used her leverage against the bookshelf to push herself into an upright position. Tara’s skirt fell back into place, covering the blonde’s lower body once more.
“Are you okay?”
Willow shook her head silently, letting her eyes dart over her shoulder. She turned back to Tara and, still holding tight, took a step backwards.
Tara had no choice but to follow. “Wh— Willow, what’s—” she started, but Willow’s quick shake of her head silenced the blonde.
Willow continued to backpedal, slowly maneuvering them both to the end of the aisle and around the corner. Tara let herself be pulled, her arms hanging limp at her sides as her feet padded obediently after her lover. Willow took another quick peek over her shoulder, then loosened one of her hands.
Tara looked past the redhead and read the stenciled letters on the door: Doctoral Dissertations Room – Ask Front Desk For Key.
All the secret spots.Willow reached out and turned the knob, hearing the tumblers click open. The redhead pushed the door open and stepped into the room, gently hauling the blonde behind her.
The room was dark, except for the light from outside the room shining through the slats of the window blinds on the door. As soon as they were inside, with the door firmly shut, Willow locked the door; she released Tara and grabbed the nearest chair, then jammed the back under the doorknob and yanked several times, testing its capacity to prevent intruders. Satisfied that no one would interrupt them, she faced Tara.
Finally.
Tara held a hand out to her. “Willow.”
Willow went willingly, and when her lips met Tara’s, both women sighed into one another. Their arms encircled one another instantly, holding tightly, each drawing the other as close as possible. Then Willow’s hands were on the move, her fingers lifting Tara’s shirt, rolling the fabric up her body until it reached the blonde’s underarms. Willow grunted her displeasure that they would have to stop kissing long enough to remove the garment, but she broke away abruptly anyway. “Off,” she ordered, tugging on the material. Tara smiled at her lover’s impatience. “Lift,” Willow said, tugging again. Tara dutifully released the redhead and lifted her arms; Willow quickly pulled the shirt over Tara’s head and down her arms, dropping it to floor beside them. Through the dim lighting, Willow could see the rise and fall of Tara’s breasts beneath her bra.
The redhead reached out, but Tara raised a hand. “No.” Willow paused, a look of confusion spreading over her face. “You take yours off.”
The small smile on Willow’s face told the blonde that she didn’t have to say it twice. Willow shucked her shirt in a split second, flinging it away from her as if it were on fire. That done, she reached again for her lover.
“No,” Tara said, stopping her short. “Take yours off.”
Oh. . . . Keeping her eyes on the blonde, Willow reached up behind her and undid the clasp of her bra; she pulled the straps from her shoulders and let the gauzy material cascade down her arms and drop unceremoniously on the floor between them. She watched Tara’s eyes drop to her bared breasts, and smiled anew as the blonde swallowed hard. Willow slid her hands over her stomach until they reached the front of her jeans; she lowered the zipper slowly before hooking her thumbs inside the waist band; she took down her jeans and panties together, stepping out of the clothes puddle and kicking them aside. Then she stood up, naked under Tara’s gaze, her blood pounding loudly in her ears.
Tara stepped across the small gap between them drew Willow to her, caressing the silken skin of her back. “Willow,” she whispered, “I-I love you.”
Willow could feel the heat of Tara’s body through the last of her clothes, and couldn’t help but press herself into it. “I love you.” She kissed Tara deeply, her tongue sliding over the blonde’s lips, parting them; she traced the smooth surface of Tara’s teeth until her lover relented, opening to her incessant probing.
Willow’s hands deftly unclasped Tara’s bra and pulled it from her body, dropping it to the floor at their feet. Their breasts, now free from the confines of their clothes, pressed into one another perfectly, their nipples stiffening at first contact. Without hesitation, Willow’s hands moved to the zipper of Tara’s skirt, again letting the garment fall away unheeded.
Willow ended the kiss gently then, pulling back to look into Tara’s eyes for several seconds; their breath mingled between them, labored and heady. With no word, Willow went down on her knees before her lover, her eyes never leaving Tara’s, her hands running down the length of the blonde’s body, resting finally on the underside of her buttocks. Slowly her fingers feathered over the rise of Tara’s rear, taking hold of her panties and drawing them down the length of her legs. Tara placed the fingers of one hand lightly on Willow’s head, balancing herself as she stepped out of the last vestiges of her clothing.
Tara’s blood flowed hotter as Willow gazed at her; she could feel a spreading wetness between her thighs, the incessant ache of her need, as the redhead’s emerald eyes took in the sight before her and reflected it back upon her.
Willow splayed her palms to the backs of Tara’s thighs and leaned forward, touching her lips to her lover’s belly button. Butterflies took flight inside the blonde’s stomach, flipping and turning, as the redhead dropped several more feather-light kisses across the planes of her stomach and abdomen. Pinpricks flowed from wherever Willow’s lips touched her; explosion after explosion tore through Tara as she became lost within her passions, and she felt herself shaking beneath her lover’s touch.
Tara’s knees buckled under the weight of her own desire, and she half-lowered, half-collapsed to her knees, face-to-face with Willow at last. “Willow,” was all she managed to say before crushing her mouth against the redhead’s in a searing kiss, their tongues rushing to find one another in a dance of heat and passion.
Willow clasped Tara tightly to her, even as she reached a hand out, searching for solid ground; setting her hand flat on the floor, she gently lowered their bodies to the floor, covering Tara’s with her own as soon as they were prone. Tara moaned throatily as Willow’s hot flesh blanketed hers; she moaned again as the redhead nudged her legs apart with an insistent knee. Willow lifted her weight off Tara just enough to slide her leg between the blonde’s, settling her upper thigh against her lover’s wet, warm center.
Tara cried out her disapproval as Willow suddenly broke their kiss, a cry which quickly turned to a groan as the redhead’s mouth trailed a blazing path over her throat, her tongue flicking over the salty skin as she traveled downward.
“W-Willow. . .” Tara gasped as the redhead’s tongue rasped across one full breast before taking the already stiff tip into her mouth.
Willow teased the peach-tipped bud with her tongue, feeling it grow even taught in response to her ministrations. On Tara’s other breast, she mirrored her mouth’s actions with her hand, massaging the ample flesh until it reached a similar arousal.
Tara arched her back when Willow’s teeth closed on her nipple, biting it softly as her tongue rubbed over it continually. Her body shuddered when her lover’s mouth abandoned her breast, crossing over the soft hill of one breast to torment the other. Tara writhed under Willow until her legs were on each side of her lover’s waist, and she could feel the redhead’s body lying within the velvety confines of her inner thighs. She raised her hips off the floor, even as Willow’s teeth bit her other painfully erect nipple.
“Willow!” the blonde cried out, trying desperately to capture Willow’s marauding mouth and bring it back to her own; she moaned in sensual anguish as Willow moved away from her groping hands. “Willow, please.” Again Tara tried to hold the redhead, but she was gone; without warning, her lips touched the inside of her thigh and Tara gasped as flames coursed over her sensitive skin. Willow’s hands caressed the soft skin of her lover’s outer thighs as her lips roamed freely over the inner.
Oh, Goddess. . . .. Tara’s fingers wound through Willow’s hair, but they could not bring the redhead’s mouth to her, they could not make the redhead join them together. “Willow!” she called out into the darkened room as the redhead’s lips danced across the portal to her femaleness. Uncontrollably, her hips arched upward as she felt the tip of Willow’s tongue dip deep within her. Spikes of pleasure shot through Tara’s body as her lover’s lips and tongue caressed and demanded acceptance while she tasted the blonde’s deepest treasures. Tara’s body quivered madly, her hands turning to fists at Willow’s most intimate and intense assault on her senses. Willow held Tara’s buttocks firmly, her fingers gripping the flesh tightly, refusing to allow her to move.
Another explosion built within Tara, and with each and every movement, her muscles tensed tighter. Just as she felt herself losing all control under Willow’s touch, her body gave in. . . and gave way. Her hips rose forcefully against Willow and she cried out as wave after wave of heat washed through her, poured from her. The immense warmth of her release spread its heavy tendrils through her, bathing her in warmth as powerful as the sun.
Tara’s breathing was the only sound in the room; that and her thundering heartbeat. Willow’s lips began their trek home, trailing over her lover’s stomach, kissing it tenderly, tasting it fully. Reaching the blonde’s breasts, she again lavished each with praise and adoration. And then she was gazing into twin pools of deep, dark blue. A thin sheen of perspiration covered Tara’s upper lip and Willow lowered her lips to taste of its saltiness; as she raised her mouth, Tara’s fingers capturing her chin held her immobile before her eyes. Ever so gently, Tara pulled the redhead back to her, pressing her lips against the other woman’s for a long moment.
Tara released her, and Willow lifted her eyes to her lover’s, smiling into them. She sighed heavily, peacefully, and dropped her head to Tara’s chest, letting her cheek rest over the blonde’s heart as the rest of her body molded itself against her sated lover’s form. One of Tara’s hands caressed Willow’s auburn tresses while the other gently stroked the arm that rested across her own chest. Minutes passed as they quietly held each other, more than satisfied to simply be touching each other.
“Willow?” Tara at last said.
“Mmm.”
Tara’s index finger traced a meandering path from Willow’s elbow to her wrist and back again. “Um, . . . I was thinking.”
“Mmm.”
“The door was unlocked.”
Willow’s brow furrowed.
Uh. . . . She lifted her eyes to Tara’s, raising her eyebrows slightly. “Huh?”
Tara glanced at the door and pointed quickly before resuming her mapping of her lover’s arm. “The door— it was unlocked.”
Willow’s eyes darted to the door and back again.
Uh. . . . “Yeah. . . .”
This time, Tara’s brow drew together. “But it says you need a key.”
A small smile played at the corners of Willow’s mouth. “
This is what you’re thinking about right now? After. . . ?” Willow tilted her head, indicating their state of nakedness.
“Well, I mean, it just seems strange that they’d have a sign there that says ask for a key, and then have the door unlocked anyway.”
Willow shifted her body, propping her chin in the palm of her hand so she could look down on her lover more fully. “Well, you
do have to ask for a key.”
Tara stared at Willow, considering her words.
It is locked. . . . Her eyes drifted towards the door again.
Another smile tinged the corners of Willow’s lips as she watched Tara process the information.
You need a ke The blonde’s eyes riveted to Willow’s. “Did you ask for the key?”
Willow pursed her lips together, taking her time answering. “Hmm,” she began, nodding her head slightly. “I could’ve asked for the key.”
Tara squinted at her. “You have the key.”
“Yes, I believe I do.”
“And when— exactly— did you ask for this key?”
Willow reached up and brushed a strand of golden hair from Tara’s face, letting her hand drop to her throat; she could feel the blonde’s pulse beat beneath her palm and she smiled. “Every day this week.”
“Every day. . . .” Tara started, only to let her words trail off unfinished.
Oh, . . . .“I’ve missed you so much,” Willow said, rubbing her thumb back-and-forth over her lover’s throat. “And I thought— I hoped. . . .”
“That I might just stop by and we'd be able to use it?” Tara finished.
Willow nodded.
Tara watched Willow for a moment longer, then shifted her body, gently rolling the redhead onto her back. She looked down at her lover with adoring eyes and gently laid a palm against her cheek. “Well then, we should put it to good use.”
Willow’s face split with an ear-to-ear grin. “I think we have been.”
Tara shook her head. “No, we haven’t even begun to.” She pressed her body against Willow’s and kissed the redhead quickly but firmly. “I love you, Willow.”
Willow cupped the back of Tara’s head and brought the blonde’s lips towards her own. “I love you, too.”
And thus, they began.
*****
Kris
"Frell that!"
by IsayAmberBensonsgorgeous » Tue Aug 06, 2002 11:30 am 
with the nachos, that's dangerous, i shudder when i think what she could do to us: weeks with no update, never updating the smut interlude, letting Willow fall back in a coma etc. - any of these scenarios is worse than an apocalipse 
. nevertheless i loved your teasing, you're so brave! 
) and where you hide the written and printed pages of DF and the precious smut ... you picture the rest : -->
you just killed me 
