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The motel room was small enough that every breath felt amplified, every rustle of the sheets like thunder in her ears. Heather had kissed before, men (regrettably), women (memorably), but never with the weight of this. She’d never done this with someone like her before. No one from her past even came close to her.
Magda. Heather thought of the other woman’s name with a girlish sigh.
The intensely brooding, effortlessly seductive former spy, who’d completely charmed Heather the moment they’d met. The deeply thoughtful and sensitive woman, who’d spent the last few months quietly opening up to Heather. The brilliant mind, the devastatingly handsome face, the gorgeous, Venusian curves; Magda. And she now sat at the edge of Heather’s narrow little mattress next to her. Waiting for Heather to make a move. Her glasses were folded neatly on the nightstand, her back rigid and her shoulders square. She looked as though she was preparing herself for something clinical, not carnal.
That shouldn’t have aroused Heather as much as it did.
Heather watched her hands; long, delicate fingers perfectly suited to playing piano. They flexed, they fidgeted, they flicked an invisible speck of dirt off of her trousers. She was nervous. Perhaps just as nervous as Heather was.
“I enjoyed our walk today,” Magda breathed. She’d enjoyed every mundane moment she’d spent with the blonde since her arrival in this miserable little town.
“I always enjoy our time together,” Heather shared.
“As do I.”
“Magda, I -”
“Why did you invite me inside?”
The air around them smelled like the citrus lotion Heather made herself, the fir and spruce that made up Magda’s cozy cottage. The older woman seemed to carry that scent with her everywhere she went. Heather’s heart was erratic. She thought that she might burst if she didn’t close the distance between them soon.
She leaned forward.
“Because I’ve wanted to do this, for months , now,” Heather whispered.
Her mouth on Magda’s lips set off a sound in her ears, like thunder rolling over hills. Her fingers slipped through hair the colour of midnight, with its own shooting stars gathering at Magda’s temple. Heather moaned as Magda returned her earnest kiss. Soft, sweet, Magda stiffened for a moment as Heather leaned fully against her. But as quickly as it happened, the tension melted away from the older woman’s body. Magda leaned forward, melting against Heather’s touch. Heather’s hand found Magda’s jawline, thumb brushing the pulse at her throat. It hammered, and the knowledge that she wasn’t alone in this flood of nerves steadied Heather.
She kissed Magda like she had waited all her life to do so. In many ways, she had.
Magda made a low noise, which emanated from the back of her throat. Heather’s whole body tingled with delight as she felt it against her lips. She pressed closer still and whimpered against Magda’s lips as she felt the older woman’s hands gripping her waist. She slid a knee between Magda’s thighs, testing, waiting. But Magda did not stop her.
Magda found herself dizzier and dizzier as Heather’s sweetly earnest kiss morphed into a second. Into a third. And then, her hands in her hair, on her face.
No one ever touched Magda’s face. That was a line she’d never allowed a lover to cross. And yet, here Heather was, a not-quite-lover, crossing all of her previous lines, obliterating even the tallest of her walls. This should not be happening, she thought to herself. Magda had rules. Boundaries. Canyons that she’d carved into her heart and soul that forced the separation between lover and self, want and need, heart and mind.
And yet, here she sat. On Heather’s bed. With Heather’s hands touching her like she was some sort of priceless work of art. With Heather’s lips moving against her own. With Heather’s knee radiating heat and desire as it pressed between her thighs. The pulse at her throat was wild, unhinged, it was mortifying. Magda feared that if Heather kissed her hard enough, she would taste her heart pumping against her very tongue.
“Is this okay?” Heather murmured against her lips. Magda felt the curved tip of Heather’s nose brush against her own. The gentle peck pressed to the corner of her kiss-swollen lips.
Magda tightened her hold on Heather’s waist, bringing the petite woman into her lap fully. Heather squeaked with delight as she slid her thighs across Magda’s lap, anchoring them both with Magda between her legs. It was then that Magda made the fatal mistake of opening her eyes.
Heather’s gaze was wide, guileless, blue like the ocean, reflecting the purest kind of sincerity and want that Magda had spent the first forty years of her life armouring herself against.
She shuddered when Heather’s hands combed through her hair to tuck the growing silver behind her ears. She momentarily lost the ability to breathe when Heather pressed her lips to her forehead.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” Heather whispered. Her thumbs worked in gentle circles against Magda’s cheek.
“I…I don’t want…that,” Magda stumbled. Her cheeks flared in a hot pink with shame at her own inarticulation.
But Heather merely smiled down at her. Her blonde hair falling out of its plait to surround them like a veil. She pressed her forehead to Magda’s. And Magda let out a shaky breath as realization painted its way across her mind.
She wanted to be ruined. This wasn’t just about the physical - though that was very much inevitable at this point - this was about the psychological. Each caress of Heather’s lips against hers, each tender brush of her fingers against her face, undid Magda. And she wanted it.
God, how she wanted it.
“Can I touch you?” Heather whispered against her lips.
Magda nearly climaxed at the mere thought of those lovely hands on her skin.
She flipped them over so that Heather’s back was flat against the mattress. Desperate to regain some kind of control, Magda reached for Heather’s hand and guided it to cup the heat between her legs. She felt those fingers tremble before confidently sliding across Magda’s trousers to locate the zipper. The sound of metal teeth being pried open was the loudest thing in the room. Then, Heather’s fingers slipped into the waistband of her panties.
“Oh!” Heather moaned as she slid the tips of her petal-soft fingers through Magda’s damp curls. She was wet, so wet already. The revelation made Heather ache with longing, desire, grief ; it was a culmination of every time she denied herself this pleasure. Of every time she tried to rewrite the fabric of her own desire. She pressed her lips to Magda’s chin. Steadied her other hand at Magda’s lower back.
Magda gasped as Heather’s long fingers gently stroked up and down her quivering cunt. She felt the pads of Heather’s fingers gather her arousal to paint her petals and slick pearl. Her hips stuttered, and she slid between Heather’s hips. Fully clothed. Rocking against Heather’s hand like a tactless, desperate adolescent.
But if Heather minded, she certainly didn’t say so. Also still fully clothed in her corduroy trousers and marigold jumper, Heather worked her hand against Magda’s slick pussy. The cuff of her wool jumper caught against Magda’s navel as she swirled her fingers around Magda’s arousal-slick flesh. She pressed her lips to Magda’s cheek, her chin, her forehead. And when Magda groaned, dropping her head in the crook of her neck to rut harder against her hand, Heather pressed her lips to Magda’s hair.
Heather had never seen Magda like this. And if the rumours were true about her past life before Mystery Bay, Magda had simply never been like this. Heather pressed her lips to the crown of Magda’s head. She ignored the cramping in her wrist, the heat of her skin trapped under her jumper, and she kept her fingers steady and firm as Magda slid her cunt against them. She’d never seen the dark-haired beauty so uncollected, so wild.
It made her dizzy to know that she was the one capable of doing this to Magda.
She stroked Magda, long sweeping caresses of her fingers. Until Magda was humping the inside of Heather’s knuckles, her clit twitching against the palm of her hand. That is when Heather switched to circles, broad and firm against that straining flesh. She mapped out Magda’s cunt in her hand, using Magda’s breathing, her hips, the twitches of her wet flesh, as her eyes. She felt Magda’s arms curl around her shoulders, felt the muffled sobs of pleasure against her jumper-clad shoulder. And her blue eyes widened with the realization that Magda was going to come all over her hand, and Heather hadn’t even seen her fully naked yet.
Her own cunt throbbed at the thought.
Her fingers slid lower, and she positioned two of them at Magda’s entrance, silently begging for permission. Magda growled against her shoulder. But she wanted more. She needed more.
“Tell me,” Heather whispered.
Magda growled again.
“Ah. Tell me what you want. Then I’ll do it.”
Magda pulled back to gaze down at her lover. Heather’s blue eyes captivated her. They hypnotized her. She cupped Heather’s face with twitching fingers and rubbed her nose against Heather’s.
“Fuck me,” she breathed against Heather’s lips. And Heather swallowed her moan as she pushed her two fingers deep inside of her.
She should be the one in control. She knew this, logically. But Heather’s fingers were inside her now, curling just so, finding that perfect spot far too easily. And Magda could do nothing but snap her hips against Heather’s fingers, rub her dripping cunt against the palm of her hand, and whimper like a wild animal in heat as the blonde drove her higher and higher. Each curl of Heather’s fingers pushed Magda closer, dismantled her defences further, until Heather was prying her apart at the seams.
Magda moaned, truly, unabashedly moaned, and the sound felt foreign spilling from her lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” Heather sighed, looking up at the blissful expression on Magda’s face.
Magda buried her face against Heather’s neck again and finally permitted herself to let go. She clutched Heather’s shoulder, she cried out against Heather’s neck, she snapped her hips so hard that she was certain she might break Heather’s slender bones.
Eventually, she floated back down to reality. Heather’s fingers slipped out of her but stayed trapped between the damp fabric of her panties. Magda grunted as she slid off of Heather, face blushing from both the heat and the mortification that she’d just mounted this woman and fucked her fingers ‘til she came whilst fully clothed.
Heather brought her shimmering fingers to her lips and licked them clean. Magda watched her, mouth agape, heat rising in her veins yet again. Heather’s fingers sprawled across the sheets to gently lay claim to Magda’s hips. Her index finger playfully flicked Magda’s open zipper.
“So,” she said, in a whispered giggle, “do you think we could do that again? And maybe, I could see all of you this time?”
Magda swallowed hard. She intertwined her fingers with Heather’s and brought them to her lips.
“I believe that can be arranged,” she said.
Heather laughed breathlessly, the sound curling into Magda’s chest as their lips brushed. “Good, see to that, then,” she said as she leaned into the playful banter that they’d built over the last several months together.
Magda’s mouth curved faintly, but her blush deepened as Heather’s fingers teased at her undone zipper again. There was still damp heat pressed between her thighs, a vivid reminder of how quickly she’d lost control. Shame prickled just beneath her skin, but it was dulled by the adoring way Heather looked at her.
What power do you have over me? She wondered to herself.
Heather slid lower, tugging at the fabric of Magda’s trousers and panties. And suddenly there she was, bare from the waist down, sprawled across Heather’s narrow bed. The light from the lamp was merciless, illuminating every line of her, but Heather looked at her as though she were a wonder.
“God,” Heather breathed, brushing a trembling hand up Magda’s thigh. “You’re… perfect.”
The words seared her more deeply than any caress. Perfect. She was hardly a young woman at this point. Perfection was not a word she’d willingly associate with herself. Part of her wanted to argue, dismiss it, but Heather’s hand slid higher, fingers grazing her damp curls, and her breath collapsed into a shudder instead.
Heather’s own undressing followed, but it was clumsier, more earnest. Magda tugged her jumper off, then helped with the stubborn trousers, pulling them down over slim hips until Heather lay beneath her, fully naked for the first time. She guided them both until Heather was under her, until her sturdy muscles and wide curves enveloped Heather’s slim frame in their warmth. She found herself breathless at the sight of Heather under her. She gently tucked a lock of blonde hair behind Heather’s ear.
Magda’s throat tightened.
So this was Heather. Open, unguarded, spread out before her like an offering. Long, lean curves, narrow hips, strong thighs, and small, perky breasts tipped in a dusty-rose. Magda had seen lovers unclothed before, many , over her life. But this was different. Everything about Heather had felt different from the moment she’d laid eyes on the blonde. Heather’s breasts rose and fell, flushed pink with arousal, the pale skin scattered with freckles that Magda had only ever glimpsed at her collar. The soft curve of her belly, the sharp line of her hipbones, the sweep of long thighs parting shyly, and at their center, the glistening heat that pulled at Magda’s every instinct.
“Exquisite,” she breathed. And a rather alluring pink bloomed across Heather’s cheeks.
“Kiss me,” Heather softly commanded.
And once again, Magda found herself under the younger woman’s effortless spell. She bent her head to oblige the blonde and moaned as Heather’s hands slid through her hair. She felt Heather’s long legs wrap around her waist, and she moaned against Heather’s lips; the feeling of her dampness sliding against her navel set her off.
“Mmmph!” Magda’s yelp was muffled by Heather’s lips as her lover flipped them, landing Magda flat on her back. Magda blinked. She looked up at the surprisingly strong younger woman and felt her cunt throb at the sight of such hunger in Heather’s eyes.
“Let me look at you,” Heather begged.
Her hands combed Magda’s hair away from her face. One hand landed against Magda’s thigh. Her thumb brushed at that silken skin, and Heather’s eyes followed its path. Her brows knitted, and her lips fell open. Her thumb gathered the wetness that had already spread across Magda’s thighs. Her hand shook with the intimacy of it, the sight alone nearly unravelling her composure.
“You’re so wet,” she said in an excited whisper. Her eyes roamed across her lover’s gorgeous body. Her full hips and breasts, kissed with the barest flush of pink, her long, pale limbs. She was all womanly curves and erotic colours of shimmering red and pale pink against porcelain, contrasting beautifully with her angular features.
“You’re incredible,” Heather murmured. She bent down, kissing one breast, then the other, her lips lingering as she savoured the taste of her lover’s skin for the first time. Her hair tumbled loose around her face, brushing Magda’s ribs.
Magda felt the tug of shame again, her own body flushed, soft in ways she sometimes resented, scarred by time and history. But Heather kissed every inch as though it were scripture. She left damp trails over her sternum, circled the edge of a scar from ‘98 with her tongue, then pressed her lips to it. Magda’s throat tightened as an ache of emotion surfaced beneath the arousal.
Heather lifted her head, strands of blonde hair sticking to her flushed cheeks. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing..,” Magda faltered. Words failed her.
Heather kissed her softly. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I met you.”
Magda’s breath caught in her chest. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed, and let Heather’s mouth wander downward again.
Heather kissed along her stomach, licking a slow line past her navel, then lower still, until Magda’s thighs trembled against her shoulders. But before she could continue, Magda pulled at her arms, guiding her back up the bed. It took all of her willpower to gently still Heather.
“No,” she breathed, kissing Heather fiercely, trying to reclaim some ground. “You first, please.”
Heather’s lips parted in surprise, a soft gasp escaping as Magda rolled them over, pinning her down. Her own urgency lent strength to the shift. She kissed Heather deeply, until their breaths mingled hotly between them.
Magda leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her mouth, then trailed lower. She kissed the hollow of her throat, the slope of her breast, her stomach where the skin trembled with every breath. Heather’s fingers threaded through her hair, the silver slipping between them like shooting stars in the night.
By the time Magda reached her thighs, Heather was already trembling. The scent of her arousal rose sharp and sweet, dizzying. Magda paused, inhaling, letting herself drown in it. Heather’s thighs parted instinctively, revealing wet heat glistening in the dim motel light. Her lips were swollen, flushed, her arousal obvious and unashamed. Her fingers found Heather’s heat and came away slick at once. She spread it with a slow stroke, circling her clit, watching the way Heather’s whole body arched in answer.
Heather moaned openly, her voice cracking into broken syllables. “Yes! Oh… oh!”
Magda’s breath caught. She watched the blonde’s face, every shift of expression as her hand worked; the way Heather’s mouth fell open, the way her eyes fluttered shut, the way her cheeks burned pink with pleasure. She had never seen anyone receive her affection so willingly .
“Look at me,” Magda whispered. She waited until Heather’s lust-hazy eyes were on her again.
“Tell me what you want,” she asked in a low growl.
Heather licked her lips. Her eyes had darkened to the shade of sapphires. “I want you to fuck me,” she whispered.
Magda slid her fingers inside, and Heather’s cunt clenched immediately, greedy around her, pulling her deeper.
Heather cried out, her hips snapping up to meet the thrust. Her hands clutched Magda’s shoulders, her nails dragging hard lines down her back. “Magda!” she gasped.
And for the first time in two years, the consonants and syllables of her new name felt like home to Magda.
Magda’s eyes never left her face as she worked her fingers faster, her thumb grinding over swollen flesh. Every twitch, every gasp, every broken word was a revelation. She was drunk on it, on the sight of Heather’s undoing, on the knowledge that she was the one doing this to her.
“Please,” Heather whispered, and her voice cracked with urgency.
Magda kissed her, muffling her plea, but pressed harder with her hand, stroking her slowly. Heather moaned into her mouth, shameless and open.
“D-don’t stop. Fuck! Oh…oh my god…!”
Magda pressed her thumb against Heather’s slick clit, stroking in rhythm with each thrust of her hand. Heather clutched at her shoulders, nails scraping skin. Her hips rocked wildly, chasing every stroke, every curl of Magda’s fingers inside her. Magda watched her face, watched the hunger and pleasure flicker across it in waves. Each cry and moan drove her own desire deeper, her hand moving faster, harder, until Heather’s body tightened beneath her.
It took only a handful of strokes before Heather shattered, back arching, mouth opening in a raw cry. Magda kissed her through it, swallowing every moan, her fingers relentless until Heather collapsed, trembling, into the sheets.
When it was over, Magda pulled back just enough to see her face; hair damp, eyes glazed, lips parted with aftershocks. She looked wrecked. She looked exquisite.
Mine, Magda thought to herself. Heather looked like she was Magda’s. She quite liked that.
Magda stilled, finally withdrawing her hand, and rolled them onto their sides. She held Heather close, pressing her face into the blonde’s hair. She smiled bashfully at her lover.
Heather laughed weakly, hair sticking to her damp cheeks. “Maybe we were both a little too keyed-up.”
Magda cleared her throat awkwardly. “Forgive me, please. I am responsible for getting us off on the wrong foot -”
“Getting us off?” Heather’s eyebrows climbed. A mischievous giggle tumbled from her lips. She nuzzled Magda’s chin. “You did no such thing. I was just as horny as you were.”
“I wanted to…,” Magda shrugged. Her face was bright with her blush.
“What?” Heather softly encouraged.
“You deserved…romance.”
“Our botanical excursion at sunset was quite romantic,” Heather pointed out. She touched Magda’s cheek with a warm hand. “Best date anyone has ever taken me on.”
Magda looked slightly horrified. “Just how low was the bar?”
Heather shrugged. “Low enough. But that doesn’t matter.”
“I would have taken you to the State Opera in Vienna if I could,” Magda softly proclaimed.
Heather curled up against Magda’s side. “I’ve never been to Europe,” she shared.
“You would love it.” Magda imagined the winding rows of roses in the city’s beloved Volksgarten. She imagined holding Heather’s hand as the blonde excitedly pointed out the varying species and colours.
“Raincheck. If we ever get out of here. You take me to Vienna. And I’ll make love to you in a proper hotel room,” she giggled.
Magda pulled the blankets up over their cooling bodies. “Deal,” she gently whispered.
They lay together in silence for a long while, their bodies still humming, their breaths uneven but slowly steadying. Heather traced lazy shapes on Magda’s shoulder, circles and spirals, her touch soothing after the storm of desire that had possessed them both this evening.
Magda kissed her forehead, tentative, almost shy.
Heather smiled, radiant and exhausted. “Stay tonight,” she murmured.
Magda blinked, startled. “Are you certain -?”
“Please.” Heather’s voice was soft but firm, her finger brushing down Magda’s cheek. “I don’t want to wake up without you here.”
“Then I shall stay,” she promised.
Heather’s smile widened, relief softening every line of her face. She tucked herself into Magda’s arms, sighing with contentment as the night enveloped them both.