More Than an Other

Author’s note: this story is inspired by real events and both characters are over the age of 18.

*

Sarah stood in her bedroom doorway blinking in the hall light and stifling a yawn.

“Lynn. Hey.” It was a question as much as anything. The yawn broke through, screwing open her mouth and causing her to sway forward. She scratched her tummy through her cotton chemise, the thin floral design jumping along the top of her thighs.

“Hi Sarah.” Lynn whispered, worry creasing her brow. For some reason it felt rude to speak above a whisper even though she knew that everyone else in the house had already been woken up. “So sorry. A pipe burst in the unit above us and there’s water everywhere, so we came here. Mom is in the guest room and your folks said I could sleep with you.” She carried a small knapsack and looked embarrassed to be there.

Sarah’s face scrunched up in another, even bigger, yawn as she nodded. “Sure, ok.” She stepped back into the dimly lit bedroom and waved Lynn inside.

Lynn stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her. She noticed the soft scent of citrus and flowers lingering from Sarah’s favorite perfume. Lynn was fond of the scent, it was fresh and bright, and it made her think of mornings with Sarah driving to class together and singing out the windows. After Lynn and her Mom had moved to this part of town last year she had felt isolated and lonely until she had met Sarah. She knew almost no one at the new school and if Sarah hadn’t made the effort to come up and introduce herself with a bubbly “Hi, Lynn, I’m your new neighbor!” Lynn was sure she’d have curled herself into a ball for the rest of the semester and had her college bags packed before graduation day.

As it was Sarah had introduced her around and she’d been accepted into some of the cliques and social circles with unexpected ease. “My new best-y, Lynn. She’s a sweetheart and is crushing pre-calc” from Sarah was all it took. Sarah was the sort of popular that defied explanation. She seemed to have a connection to just about every social group in school and all of them seemed to think of her as an itinerant member. She was tall and pretty and a star of both the water polo team and the school theater but Lynn quickly realized that it was Sarah’s genuine warmth and interest in other people that made her welcomed in all of the cliques. She’d felt that warmth and interest directed at herself as well and knew how it inspired the same in return. After the first lonely week when Lynn had felt so homesick and friendless the attention she suddenly got from Sarah filled her with such relief and excitement.

It awed Lynn a bit and she felt ashamed of herself for the petty jealousy she occasionally felt when Sarah’s attention brightened someone else’s day. Mostly she was just relieved and happy to have met Sarah and to have her as a neighbor close enough to share rides with and spend time outside of school with. They had fallen naturally into regular streaming nights and weekend afternoons at Lynn’s pool or just hanging out in Sarah’s room. Despite all this they had yet to have a sleepover so Lynn felt a little thrill at this being the first time, even if it was unplanned and unprepared. Summer was almost over and they would both be leaving for college in a few weeks. This might be the first and last sleepover.

Lynn made a makeshift bed of two thick sleeping bags next to Sarah’s desk. “They’re more comfortable than you’d think.” Sarah said before flopping herself face down onto her bed and producing a subtly fake snoring sound. “Night-y” she mumbled through a splash of chestnut hair and wiggled herself into a gangly coil amid comforter and sheets. Lynn tried not to stare overlong at the toned leg flowing gracefully from the short chemise nor at the blue painted toes hanging just off the mattress. She’s going to break hearts at college Lynn thought to herself.

Soon Lynn heard the slow breathing of heavy sleep across the room. She’d always envied those who could fall asleep with that sort of ease. It took her ages and there were nights when she gave up and sat reading until dawn. She’d not even been asleep earlier tonight when the burst pipe sent water cascading into the bedrooms. She had been deeply lost in her favorite sleep strategy: ninety minutes into a slow teasing session of erotic fantasies and self petting. Over the years she learned that when she drew out her fantasies and thoroughly explored the many ways they could play out while only barely teasing herself, softly cupping a breast or slowly pressing the top of her curly mons or drawing her fingertips just along the crease of her rear, the eventual orgasmic release was intense and often enough to knock her into a rapid slumber soon after.

Tonight her attentions had been drawn to a fascination with her bum – all of its softness and its sweeping curve and the warmth of its fleshy halves squeezing and releasing her fingers. In her fantasies of the evening her lovers were sometimes shy about her attentions in so private a place, needing coaxing and gentle touches, sometimes they were wanton and lustful and bold, pawing at her cheeks and having theirs grasped hard in turn.

Ninety minutes of fantasies and intimate teasing had brought her to a simmering heat, just under a boil, trembling in delicious agony and anticipation when it suddenly fell to pieces as water flooded down her bedroom door.

Now of course she was not just wide awake again but she was frustrated as hell, stuck here in someone else’s room wishing she could finish what she’d started earlier. In the cozy cocoon of the sleeping bag she rubbed at her cold thighs below her pajama shorts and brushed at her tummy under her nightshirt, but pointedly avoided anything in between. The fuzzy crumple of her pajama shorts was already bunched in the crux of her thighs and that small pressure made her shiver.

Her whole body hummed with that distant suspended gratification. She tried to lay still and close her eyes. After a few minutes listening to Sarah’s quiet breathing Lynn’s tentative fingers slid down over the swell of her pubis, moving furtively to tug at the bunched jammies and to brush enameled nails over the bristle of hair beneath them. Hunger welled within her when she tugged the shorts against herself with delicious pressure. Desire fluttered more fully awake as the nubby bead of cloth impressed itself into her vulva and with it a flush bloomed on her face and chest.

She released the shorts quickly. It was too much. Teasing herself now, when she would find no ultimate release, would truly be torture. Drawing several deep breaths she struggled against the tide of lascivious images bubbling back into her mind.

It was maddening. All of her imaginings from earlier came in a disordered sequence to breath insistent life back into her longing. Each appeared in turn to brush against her mind, each tuning the tension humming through her coiled body. She tried to fend them off as they came, averting her mind’s eye again and again, fighting to disengage. She lay there struggling in complete stillness on her back, arms crossed over her tummy, eyes closed tightly and trying hard to think of boring things.

With a start she opened her eyes. She must have dozed because she couldn’t remember what boring thought she was supposed to be thinking of. The room was still dimly lit from Sarah’s heavily shaded desk lamp. A quiet sigh filled the room. Lynn glanced over at the bed. Sarah still lay on her belly above the comforter, face turned to the wall. She was less ensconced in the comforter’s thick folds, having kicked it into a bundle beside her, and Lynn admired the soft curves of her outline. Her eyes slid down her shoulder and past the little bend of her low back up onto the graceful swell of her behind. The arc of her hips, slightly twisted by an outstretched leg, lent a sense of abandon to the scene and stirred subconscious currents. The slip hugging Sarah’s body gave Lynn the impression of a barely modest negligee, revealing enough in its draping folds and shadows to leave Lynn involuntarily bringing to mind what was only hinted at under its wisp of floral fabric.

Lynn blushed and felt a hollow embarrassment in the pit of her stomach. Shame fluttered through her chest, a spear casting ripples into the thick glow of her unsatisfied desire. You must stop! Her thoughts hissed. Leave her out of your smutty fantasies or you’ll never forgive yourself and you’ll never be able to stop! She trembled.

One of Sarah’s arms moved and pulled at the bundled comforter, pushing it beneath herself as she wiggled her hips onto it. She sighed quietly and squirmed a bit to settle down astride the lump of bundled comforter, a firm little push of her hips confirming contact.

Lynn swallowed dryly and admired Sarah in the dimness. Once the chubby little girl from the family photos in the hall, Sarah kept a muted softness to her face and hips but the four years of water polo and track had given her the developed muscles of a youthful athlete. She was soft in all the right places, Lynn thought, firm in all the others. Then she caught her breath as she saw Sarah begin to move. Her cute behind rose slightly, barely hidden under the short chemise, then her pelvis rolled forward as she ground herself back down against the bulk of the comforter beneath her. “Ha-h-h-h-h” came an unsteady breath and then she moved through the motion again with slow deliberation, coiling and uncoiling herself on the bed.

Lynn’s watched in fascination as the curve of Sarah’s back arched up and down in a languidly erotic rhythm. The graceful bump of her raised behind was alluring and the strength of its downward push was powerfully arousing. Arching high then rolling down and forward as light and shadow rippled across Sarah’s undulating body. Lynn’s heartbeat grew faster as she watched in mesmerized excitement this rhythmic motion punctuated by little wiggles side to side in the depths of her pushing.

Soon a panty wrapped peach began to appear, inch by inch, as the hem of Sarah’s chemise rode higher with each revolution. Lynn was mesmerized by this beautiful sight, watching shadowed saucers dimple each cheek with each clenching thrust and the tented nexus between them squirm and gasp and squirm and gasp under its lavender veil.

Is she sleeping? Lynn wondered. Has she forgotten I’m here? Her whole body radiated heat, feeling distant from her, and her breath came in an unsteady arrhythmia.

Sarah began stroking the top of her bare thigh with long fingers, just under the slope of her bum.. Her other arm lay beneath her, pinned under her tummy.

The scene before Lynn, watching her friend pleasure herself with quiet moans, coaxed a flutter from Lynn’s frustrated pussy. Teased and touched for so long, strummed like an instrument but left not fully plucked, it was now sending tingling shocks throughout Lynn’s overheating body. She was simmering again, hot and safe within the swaddle of sleeping bag but afraid of the growing hunger building in her. This image of sensual humping before her and the interruption of her own earlier release commingled with the warm softness of her bedding to stoke the embers of desire in her. Their heat pushed into her in lapping waves, strong and irresistible, tempting every part of her as insistently as the ocean pulls at the shore. She felt intoxicated, at once separate from her trembling body but also profoundly subservient to its rising needs.

Pinpricks tingled across her skin in random patterns, her whole body a limb waking from sleep, and she twitched and quivered in response. Amidst that dance a warm tickle, something distinct which pulled her attention, something warm between her legs, it oozed in slow descent down her perineum until it just kissed the dark rim of her shy behind. She squirmed and felt its slippery warmth pool in her puckered ring. Was it real or just a figment within her budding arousal? Confined by the bag she shifted onto her side and curled both legs then brought one hand down to check. Her tentative fingertip landed on a pearl of moisture slicking the wrinkled skin of her musky star. She tracked it with her finger, following its short journey to the welling font between her lower labia.

So wet already… oh no.

Tenderly exploring at that well she teased her pillowy lips from side to side and held her breath as another warm drip teased free and slipped down onto the delicate flesh of her thigh. Surprised by the heat and quickness of it she knew that the well, concealed by those lips, must be drowned to its depths with her arousal.

Suddenly her two fingers pushed easily into the syrup damned by her petals and sank deep into the drooling tunnel of her sex. Jolts burst from her quim to lash her from head to toe. No conscious thought had moved her fingers but as soon as she felt them filling her and felt the gooey heat splash up her knuckles she knew she was going to continue until she found her release. There was no turning back.

Keeping her eyes on Sarah’s writhing figure she tenderly played with herself, painting her arousal in thick strokes around the outside of her swollen lips. She slid easily along their folds and through the downy curls around them, etching drowned lines of desire across her vulva with the brush of her fingertips. Laying on her side she felt herself leaking across her inner thigh. She didn’t care that she was dripping within the pajama shorts nor that her arousal would likely smear the bag. In her growing delirium the mess she would make in someone else’s bedding, in her own pajamas, only turned her on more.

Often as part of her self teasing she would imagine she was tugging at someone else’s nubbly nipples and playing in someone else’s secret lips or that it was someone else’s questing fingertips drawing oily trails from her pussy to anoint and explore the aurora of her bashful anus. Usually the imagined person was unspecific, an indistinct evocation of Lover who had no characteristics beyond their seeming tactile manifestation but whose otherness fulfilled her longing, in the moment, to be with someone who was tender when she needed tenderness and rough when she needed it roughly; someone responsive and driving and bent on satisfying her completely and then letting her satisfy them in kind. She smelled her Other now, feeling them near against her, and knowing she both touched and was touched by her Other. In this moment her Other had substance. Lynn could hear her Other’s whisper, feel their heat, breath in their stimulating aroma, and when she closed her eyes see her Other’s dark irises and a brow creased with arousal and urgent effort.

Lynn stared at Sarah through a mist of desire. The chemise was now crumpled up in the low of her back and her left butt cheek was laid bare; that side of her panties now snuggled in the shadowed nexus between her two gyrating melons. Lynn swallowed a moan watching them pump in their downy circles. She caught her breath as Sarah’s free hand, reaching behind her, grabbed hard at her exposed cheek and then began to softly palm its face with an eager petting. Sarah’s hand eventually slipped sideway into the dark cleft and let itself be trapped by the firm squeeze of her buttocks on either side. Lynn mimicked Sarah’s motion in the dark of her bag, relishing the warmth and springy softness of her butt against her open hand. Palming her ass had never had this sort of appeal before but Lynn tongued her palate at the wonderful eroticism of it and watched hungrily as Sarah drew red finger marks across her pumping tush.

Sarah’s leg gathered more of the comforter between them and then squeezed it hard between them, pulling it taught against her with a soft “ah -ha -ha h-h-a”. She relaxed and squeezed again and again in determined succession, keeping the fingers of one hand tucked deeply between her smashing buttocks to delight in their smothering power.

Then Sarah moved her other hand down and began kneading herself through her panties in time with each thrust of her hips. Her fingers mashed the taught triangle of cloth in every direction, pushing and slapping occasionally at the doughy flesh under the panties. In the shadow between those shapely thighs Lynn could just see dark curls and goose fleshed skin puffing out around Sarah’s fingers and straining at the hem of her panties as she worked herself now faster and more urgently with one hand at her panties and the other grasping and pulling on her bum.

“Ooo yes,” Sarah whispered, still facing away from Lynn, “touch it just like that. Yeeesss.”

Lynn’s own fingers now played up and down along the lips of her slick quim, first around and then amidst them, like she was stroking the fleshy strings of a harp. She heard the quiet wet sounds of that instrument in the room but wasn’t sure if it was from her or from Sarah. She knew her orgasm was fast approaching and quailed at the thought of finally reaching explosive release.

Lynn imagined her Other crawling on top of her, and felt her heat rather than the heat of the sleeping bag. She stared up and saw Sarah’s eyes looking down at her, felt Sarah’s otherworldly arms wrapped strongly around her waist, and felt Sarah’s radiant pussy buttering her thigh with heavy strokes. “Bessst-y,” softly whispered close to her ear. Lynn gasped at her Other’s transformation, gooseflesh bloomed over her whole body and she felt the drooley slick on her thigh as Sarah’s needful trail not her own. Her fingers played in the sopping lips of her friend now instead of in her own, and now as she started plumbing two fingers in and out past the crotch of her jammies it was Other-Sarah’s fingers swaddled in Lynn’s sex, not her own, and at the same time it was Lynn tickling the utmost depths of her friend’s flooded pussy, not her own.

“Like that,” Sarah whispered again across the room and then moaned into her pillow. “Let me fuck you like that…” and the pace and force of her humping swelled then swelled again until she was pounding herself upon the bundle beneath her. Ragged breaths gasped the night air, punctuated by tiny squeaks and swallowed grunting. “Yes, fuck, yes, ooh…” she hissed. Her bucking raised a chorus of quiet creaks from the bed, “oh shit, oh shit,” she gasped, “oh shit, I’m gonna cum! Like… that…” Her hand jumped up and pushed the pillow into her face, arm straining and shaking. “Hoh!” She exclaimed into the pillow, “oh! hoh! Haaaaaaaa-aaaaaa-aaaa!” and slamming her hips down hard she went rigid for a long wailing exhale before she began trembling and bucking in small spasms as she muffled her cries with the pillow. Her fingers, barely seen between her thighs, splayed and curled and twitched under her beautiful writhing body.

Lynn watched in fevered awe until, after some time, Sarah’s spasms slowed to nothing and she lay quietly, breathing deeply. Lynn hastily slowed her own fingers, afraid Sarah would hear the sticky harp strings of her strumming, and she held her breath when Sarah finally turned her head and lay it back down facing into the room, facing her. Her eyes were closed and mouth agape slightly in a gentle upturned smile.

Lynn watched her in paralyzed stillness until Sarah snuggled herself into a curl on the bed and a furrow of lust or the echo of her orgasm surfaced on her pretty brow. Her graceful eyebrows pinched together above quivering eyelids. Lynn melted at the blissful expression on her friend’s face and she felt her Other trembling next to her within the sleeping bag, saw her opening her beautiful dark cinnamon eyes and leaning in close to press hot lips to Lynn’s mouth in passionate urgency. The wet tip of her Other’s tongue pushed open Lynn’s lips.

It was like someone had plucked hard on her long strummed strings and she quailed as the orgasm, so long denied, exploded into a symphony of calamitous release. “Oh fuck!” she squeaked, trying to muffle her mouth with one hand. Eyes wide and rolling, she jerked and roiled in the confines of the zipped bag. She slapped her hand against the heat of her pussy, smacking at the wetness of her cotton jammies until finally she mashed hard on her plump sex and pulled firmly with her whole hand against her pussy while it fluttered its long mute song of release. The orgasm rushed and crashed and boiled every part of her, every string of the harp sang with jangling music after being so long denied. She strained to muffle it as much as she could, only letting out a lone “eeeeee” which a distant awareness hoped was as quiet as she wished it to be.