Henna Tattoo, Part Seven

“This isn’t the same tattoo.”

Smiling, Andrea said, “I know.”

“I thought you wanted to practice Selena’s tattoo,” Michelina said, giving Andrea a curious look.

“I wanted to practice my technique, not the pattern,” Andrea said, taking the stencil from Michelina, “this one… I drew just for you.”

“Just for me, huh?” Michelina said, smiling warmly at Andrea, “Is that why there are roses?”

“They are your favorite,” Andrea said, stealing a kiss.

“They are,” Michelina said, smiling, “something to remember for Valentine’s Day.”

“Me, I’d rather have chocolate,” Andrea said, holding the drawing so Michelina could see it, too, “what do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, Chica,” Michelina said.

“Pretty enough to have it on your side for a couple of weeks?” Andrea asked, looking at the prepped henna paste.

“Definitely,” Michelina said, taking the drawing from Andrea. Looking at it, she was smiling. When she looked back up at Andrea, she gave her a kiss and said, “I can’t wait.”

“Well, the paste is ready, if you are,” Andrea said.

Michelina stole one more kiss, before pulling her shirt up and over her head.

Andrea took that to mean her girlfriend was ready, so she popped the cap on a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Pouring some on a paper towel, she quickly prepped the tattoo area. Michelina hissed as the cold towel touched her skin. Andrea gave her a sympathetic smile, said, “Sorry, Babe. I know it’s cold.”

With the area clean, Andrea grabbed a second paper towel and wetted it with more alcohol. She popped the cap on a tube of Speed Stick deodorant, rubbing it generously on the damp towel. Done, she put the lid back on the deodorant and set it aside.

“Why the deodorant, again?” Michelina asked.

“It helps transfer the ink from the stencil,” Andrea said, then laughed when the girl gave her a dubious look, “I don’t know why it works, but it does. Emma showed me.”

Shrugging, Michelina said, “Okay.”

Andrea applied the alcohol/deodorant mixture to Michelina’s side, making sure to get a nice coating of it on her skin. Satisfied, she reached for her stencil. Lining it up, she pressed it to the girl’s side and held it in place for a moment. She peeled one corner back, making sure the stencil was set, then removed it completely.

“Huh,” Michelina said, looking down at the transfer, “I guess I can’t argue that works.”

“Emma did this with my first henna tattoo,” Andrea said, smiling, “she didn’t have any of her transfer gel at her apartment. Her ex-con girlfriend showed her how to do it.”

Laughing, Michelina asked, “Emma was dating an ex-con?”

“A thirty-eight-year-old ex-con,” Andrea added, laughing, “they used to get confused for mother and daughter.”

“How old was Emma?” Michelina asked, her eyes wide.

“Eighteen-nineteen,” Andrea said, grinning, “so you couldn’t blame them for the mistake.”

“Wow,” Michelina said, shaking her head.

“Emma had a long list of bad girlfriends… Well, bad girl girlfriends,” Andrea said, reaching for the henna paste and her applicator bottle, “lots of tattoos and lots of attitude.”

“Really?” Michelina said.

“Yeah,” Andrea said, twisting the cap off the bottle, “I was a little surprised when she started dating Selena.”

“They seem so perfect for each other,” Michelina said.

“Oh, they are,” Andrea agreed, smiling, “Selena is just a lot different than Emma’s past girlfriends. In a good way, trust me. Even my step-mom likes her, and she never likes the girls Emma dates.”

“I like Selena, too,” Michelina said, then smiled as she changed the subject, “I can’t wait to see you in your bridesmaid dress.”

“We are supposed to get it fitted in a couple of days. I haven’t even seen it, yet,” Andrea said, crossing her fingers, “hopefully Emma doesn’t pick something ugly.”

“You’ll look beautiful in whatever she picks,” Michelina said, giving her a lingering kiss.

“Better stop that,” Andrea husked, smiling at her, “we need to get this henna paste on your side, so it has time to set.”

“I know,” Michelina said, stealing one last kiss before stretching out on her back next to the fire.

“Last chance to change your mind,” Andrea said, scooping the paste into the bottle, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to do this.”

“I want to,” Michelina said.

“We’ll just let it sit for twenty minutes,” Andrea said, screwing the lid back on, “it won’t be as dark if we don’t leave it on as long.”

“We are leaving it on the full time,” Michelina said.

Meeting her eyes, Andrea said, “Are you sure? It’ll be like a month until it fades.”

“I’m sure,” Michelina said, smiling at her.

“Just don’t get in trouble, okay,” Andrea said.

“I won’t, Chica,” Michelina said.

Taking a deep breath, Andrea squeezed the application bottle, making the first of many lines on her girlfriend’s body. It was called tattooing, but it was more like decorating a cake. She had to maintain consistent pressure on the bottle, or her lines would become too thick or too thin. That was the hardest part. The second hardest was remembering she had to work from the middle outward so her hand wouldn’t smear the design. The stencil helped. She couldn’t imagine trying to freehand a design, building an elaborate masterpiece out from a single dot.

Andrea had seen a video of an Indian woman putting a wedding tattoo on her friend’s hands and the artist’s skills had humbled her. A single four petal flower had become an entire work of art up her friend’s wrist, the woman working without a stencil. It hadn’t looked improvised, but well thought out and planned, as if the artist could visualize the tattoo on her friend’s untouched skin.

Andrea doubted she’d ever have that level of expertise, but she wasn’t as clumsy with the applicator bottle as she thought she would be. The practice tattoos she had done on herself had bolstered her confidence some and, as the pattern began to emerge on Michelina’s side, she was feeling better about doing Selena’s for her wedding night.

It was still a little nerve-wracking, though. It would be Emma’s and Selena’s first night as Mrs. and Mrs. Rosa. Andrea didn’t want to sour that night for them with a bad tattoo, so she was putting a lot of pressure on herself to get it right.

Thinking about her stepsister’s soon-to-be last name, Andrea smiled and said, “Did I tell you that Emma is taking Selena’s name?”

“No,” Michelina said.

“It’s a funny story,” Andrea said, laughing as she remembered how it went, “they were going to hyphenate their names, but it sounded goofy- Rosa-Thorne.”

Laughing, Michelina asked, “Selena’s last name is Rosa?”

“Yeah,” Andrea said, grinning at her, “they thought it was too cute, so they ended up making me pick a number between one and ten.”

“No they didn’t,” Michelina said, laughing.

“Selena won, so it will be Selena and Emma Rosa,” Andrea said.

“Wait, I thought your name is Kissinger,” Michelina said.

“Emma has a different last name than me,” Andrea said, then smiled at Michelina, “our name would be Kissinger-Vega or Vega-Kissinger if we decided to hyphenate our names.”

Michelina smiled warmly at her, asked, “Thinking about getting married already?”

“I figured we’d wait at least until we are out of high school,” Andrea said, making a rose with the henna paste. Feeling Michelina looking at her, Andrea looked up from the tattoo. The girl looked amused, and Andrea gave her an embarrassed smile, said, “Am I getting too far ahead of myself?”

“A little,” Michelina said, putting her hand on the back of Andrea’s neck and pulling her in for a kiss, “but I wouldn’t mind being Mrs. Kissinger someday.”

“No hyphen?” Andrea asked.

“I just think Michelina Kissinger has a nice ring to it,” Michelina said, smiling at Andrea.

Leaning in for a kiss, Andrea said, “Well, I won’t fight you if you want to be Mrs. Kissinger.”

“Maybe after high school,” Michelina said, playfully.

—————————————-

“She said she wants to be Mrs. Kissinger?”

Andrea sat in the passenger seat of Emma’s car. They were going to the seamstress to fit Andrea for her bridesmaid dress, then to grab a bite of lunch.

“Yeah,” Andrea said, smiling, “I told her about how you and Selena decided on who was taking whose name, about the too cute Rosa-Thorne mash up. I sort of mention our name would be Vega-Kissinger or Kissinger-Vega. She said she’d rather be Mrs. Kissinger… Well, after high school, maybe.”

Emma glanced away from the road for a second, then smiled, “After high school, huh?”

“We were just… you know,” Andrea said, a little embarrassed, “just talking.”

“That’s what… a little under five years?” Emma asked.

“Something like that,” Andrea said.

“Do you think you’ll still have the hots for each other by then?” Emma teased.

“Shut up,” Andrea said, laughing.

Emma smiled at her, said, “Personally, I think you two will still be together.”

“Yeah?” Andrea asked, looking at her. She thought the same thing, but she was curious why her stepsister thought so.

Emma nodded, said, “You two just go together. You are like peanut butter and jelly.”

“I think so, too,” Andrea said, smiling. She thought about asking Emma if that made her peanut butter or jelly, then decided against it. Seemed like she’d be setting herself up for a joke about her being nuts.

Smiling, Emma said, “Maybe it’ll be my turn one day to help you pick out a ring for Michelina.”

“Maybe,” Andrea said, smiling at the thought of hers and Michelina’s wedding. Her mind started to wander, thinking about dresses and who would walk down the aisle, but Emma brought her back from her little daydream.

“You should get her a promise ring,” Emma said.

“A promise ring?” Andrea asked.

“It’s like a… pre-engagement ring,” Emma said, glancing at Andrea, “it’s a promise to be hers until you are ready to make it official.”

“Huh,” Andrea said, thinking about that. Suddenly laughing, she asked, “Did you ever buy a girl a promise ring?”

“I didn’t meet my soulmate in middle school like you did,” Emma said, smiling, “I just gave her an engagement ring.”

“Aw,” Andrea said.

Laughing, Emma said, “Shut up.”

Andrea thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Do you really think I should give her a promise ring?”

Emma shrugged, said, “It’s just something to think about.”

“I will,” Andrea said.

“Besides, you are the romantic of the family,” Emma said, grinning at her.

“I’m not a romantic,” Andrea said.

“Really?” Emma said, sarcastically, “the painting of you and Michelina… the matching tattoos when you came out at school… the paint incident…Yeah, you are definitely not a romantic.”

“Shut up,” Andrea said, embarrassed.

Emma put on her turn signal and turned into a little strip mall. She parked in front of Special Day Boutique. Turning off the car, she smiled at Andrea, asked, “Ready?”

“Um, yeah,” Andrea said.

“Let’s go,” Emma said, opening her door.

Following Emma into the boutique, Andrea looked around the flowery décor and had to smile. Emma and this place were like oil and water. Andrea found it hard to believe her stepsister had shopped here for her wedding dress and the dresses for her bridesmaids.

The receptionist was a bubbly blonde with perfect makeup and a megawatt smile. Her smile faltered some when she saw Emma with her piercings and tattoos, but she recovered quickly. Without waiting for Emma to say anything, the receptionist picked up the phone and pushed a button. The line was picked up, and the woman said, “Stella? Your client is here for her fitting.”

Emma leaned close and said, “I guess I’m not their usual clientele.”

“Did you really buy your dress here?” Andrea asked, dubiously.

Laughing, Emma said, “I’ve known Stella since middle school. I’m not sure I would have gotten in the door otherwise.”

The curtain to the dressing rooms drawn aside and a pretty brunette smiled at Emma and Andrea, waved them back.

“Stella, this is my sister, Andrea,” Emma said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Andrea,” Stella said, smiling at Amy.

“You too,” Andrea said, stepping through the curtain, “you knew Emma since middle school?”

“Yeah,” Stella said, laughing, “she had fewer tattoos back then, though.”

“Fewer?” Andrea asked, then looked at Emma, “you had tattoos in middle school?”

“Just the one,” Emma said, grinning, “I did it myself with a needle and ballpoint pen ink. God, it was horrible.”

“Have I seen it?” Andrea asked.

“No,” Emma said, shaking her head, “my second tattoo covered it up.”

“Alright Andrea,” Stella said, pointing at a padded bench outside one of the changing stalls, “have a seat. I’ll grab your dress.”

Sitting on the bench, Andrea wondered what sort of dress her stepsister had picked for her. With Emma being Emma, it was impossible to guess. Taking a deep breath, Andrea crossed her fingers and thought, please don’t let it be ugly.

Stella came back with a garment bag, hanging it on the hook in front of the dressing room. Andrea leaned forward as the woman ran the zipper down and pulled the bridesmaid dress out. When Stella turned with the dress, Andrea’s shoulders fell. It was lime green with puffy sleeves. It wasn’t just ugly; it was hideous.

This can’t be happening, Andrea thought, unable to look away from the dress. It had the same gravity as a car wreck, drew her eyes even the fluorescent green made her a little nauseous.

Andrea heard Emma start laughing and she looked at her stepsister. She frowned when she saw Emma with her phone out and focused on her. When she saw Emma grinning, Andrea knew Emma was messing with her.

“That’s not my dress, is it,” Andrea said, giving her stepsister a sour look.

“God no,” Emma said, laughing, “I wouldn’t make my worst enemy wear that thing.”

“Sadly,” Stella said, putting the dress back in the bag, “a couple of poor women had to wear dresses just like this.”

“No,” Andrea said, her eyes wide, “who would pick this?”

Stella gave her a sad shake of her head, said, “I tried to dissuade the bride… showed her my entire catalog… even offered her a discount on another style, but she wouldn’t change her mind.”

“Those poor women,” Emma said, making a face, “I think I would have told the bride sorry, but I’m not wearing that.”

“One of her bridesmaids did just that,” Stella said, zipping the bag, “took herself right out of the wedding. This was her dress.”

“That’s messed up,” Andrea said. She wondered if the woman backing out of the wedding put a strain on their friendship. Then she wondered if the dresses wouldn’t have put more strain on the relationship. Andrea didn’t think she would still be friends with someone who made her wear a dress like that.

“Yeah,” Stella said, then grinned at Andrea, “luckily, your stepsister just wanted to have a little fun with you. Your real dress is stunning.”

“Almost as stunning as mine, but not quite,” Emma said, winking, “which is how it should be. No one gets to outshine me… Well, maybe Selena.”

“Let me go get it,” Stella said.

When the woman disappeared, Andrea gave Emma a dirty look, said, “You are an asshole.”

Laughing, Emma sat down beside her, held out her phone so Andrea could see the screen, and said, “The look on your face is priceless.”

Shaking her head, Andrea said, “You’d look crazy, too, if you thought you had to wear that dress.”

“I asked Stella what was the ugliest dress she had,” Emma said, laughing, “she didn’t even have to think about it.”

“God, I’ve been so nervous about the dress you picked, and you pulled this…” Andrea said, shaking her head.

“Someone might have told me you were worried about the dress,” Emma said, her smile widening.

“Who?”

“Michelina,” Emma said, then held up her hand, “she didn’t know about the prank. She just said you were worried.”

“You talked to Michelina?” Andrea asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Emma said, as Stella returned with another garment bag. Her stepsister waited until Stella unzipped the bag and pulled out the dress to say, “I wanted to know what her favorite color was.”

“It’s blue,” Andrea said.

Nodding at the dress Stella was holding up, Emma said, “I know.”

Andrea’s breath caught in her throat when she looked at the dress. Putting her hand to her mouth, Andrea said, “I- wow!”

“Stunning right?” Stella said, smiling at her.

Nodding dumbly, Andrea got up and took the dress from the woman. She stepped into the changing room, pulled the curtain. She heard Emma laugh and say, “I guess she likes it.”

Andrea did like it. It was an off the shoulder, floor-length gown in a pale blue color. Emma had said the dress was almost as stunning as her wedding dress and she was right. Andrea’s hands were shaking a little as she changed out of the clothes she had worn here. The material of the dress was silky on her skin as she slipped into it. Smoothing it into place, she looked in the mirror, and her heart started racing.

“How’s it going in there?” Stella asked.

Gathering the dress up, Andrea stepped out of the changing room. Emma was smiling at her and Andrea did a slow turn.

“Michelina is going to love it,” Emma said, her smile widening.

“Yeah,” Andrea said, going to her stepsister and hugging her.

“I didn’t pick this dress for me… Or even you,” Emma said, pulling back from the hug to smile at Andrea, “I picked it for Michelina. I wanted her to see you wear it.”

Looking down at herself, Andrea said, “She really is going to love it.”

“I guess this is the one, then,” Stella said, pulling some safety pins out her pocket, “let’s see if we need to make any alterations.”

——————————————

As Andrea got close to their secret spot, she saw flickering flames in the husk of the burnt out building. Michelina had beat her there. Smiling, Andrea walked a little faster, eager to see her girlfriend, again. They had just seen each other at school, but that felt like ages ago.

Stepping into the hiding place, she found Michelina looking at the mural she had painted. Andrea moved behind the girl, wrapped her arms around her. Michelina melted back into her, and they stood like that for a while.

“We look so happy in this picture,” Michelina said, the smile plain in her voice.

“Yeah,” Andrea said, squeezing her a little tighter.

“How long do you think a painting will last out here?” Michelina asked.

“Emma’s has been here for three years, I think she said,” Andrea said.

“It hasn’t faded at all,” Michelina said, looking at her stepsister’s mural on the other still standing wall.

“She used acrylic paint and sealed it, same as I did,” Andrea said, smiling, “we are going to be on that wall for a while.”

“Do you think we’ll still be this happy in three years?” Michelina asked.

“I think so,” Andrea said, kissing her girlfriend’s neck, “as long as you are my girl I’ll be happy.”

Turning in Andrea’s arms, Michelina smiled at Andrea and said, “I would be happy, too. I love you, Chica.”

Putting her arms around Michelina’s neck, Andrea kissed Michelina tenderly. She pulled back and said, “I love you, too.”

“How did it go at the seamstress?” Michelina asked.

Andrea gave Michelina a look, asked, “Did you talk to Emma about my bridesmaid dress?”

“Yeah. Why?” Michelina asked.

Andrea told Michelina about the practical joke Emma had pulled on her, having the seamstress show her the ugliest dress Andrea had ever seen. Giving her girlfriend a sour look, Andrea said, “It was hideous- lime green with big puffs on the shoulders.”

Laughing, Michelina said, “I didn’t know, I swear.”

“Uh huh,” Andrea said, even though she believed her.

“I wish I could have seen your face,” Michelina said, smiling.

“Ask Emma to show you the video,” Andrea said, shaking her head, “hell, it’s probably on Youtube by now.”

“I’m sorry, Babe,” Michelina said, kissing her, “I was just trying to help. I didn’t want you to have to wear a feo dress.”

“Feo?” Andrea asked.

“Um, ugly,” Michelina said.

“Ah,” Andrea said, smiling, “luckily the real dress Emma picked out is beautiful. Not quite as beautiful as her wedding gown, but I think that’s how it is supposed to work. At least, that’s what Emma said.”

“What’s it look like?” Michelina asked, her eyes shining with interest.

“You’ll have to wait to the wedding to see it,” Andrea said, playfully.

“Chica,” Michelina said, giving her a dirty look.

“Emma said she picked the dress out not for her or even me, but you,” Andrea said, smiling at her girlfriend.

“Me?” Michelina asked, frowning. Her eyes suddenly got wide, and she asked, “Is it blue? Is that why Emma called and asked what my favorite color was?”

“Maybe,” Andrea teased.

“You are no buena, Chica,” Michelina said, pulling away.

Smiling, Andrea reeled her back in and kissed her, said, “I want it to be a surprise, Babe.”

“Okay,” Michelina said, sighing theatrically.

“What can I do to make it up to you?” Andrea asked, her smile becoming playful. She ran her hand up Michelina’s arm suggestively.

Laughing, Michelina asked, “Do you think it’s that easy?”

“I was hoping,” Andrea said.

Michelina just looked at her a moment, then shook her head, “You are lucky you are so beautiful.”

Andrea laughed and kissed her. Taking Michelina’s hand, she led her to the deck chair, sat down and pulled the girl side saddle into her lap. Their lips met, and Andrea knew she was forgiven for not telling Michelina about her dress. The kiss got heated in a hurry.

Running her hand up the inside of Michelina’s thigh, Andrea drew a moan from the girl when her fingers found her bud through the jeans she wore. Michelina’s legs parted a little, giving her easier access. Even through the denim, the pressure of Andrea’s fingertips on Michelina’s bud had her moaning into their kiss. Andrea popped the button on Michelina’s jeans, ran the zipper down. The girl’s soft sounds of excitement grew louder when skin touched skin, and there was nothing to dampen the caress of Andrea’s hand.

Michelina broke the kiss, putting her forehead against Andrea’s. In a breathy sigh, she said, “That feels so good.”

Smiling, Andrea let her hand slip further into the girl’s panties and eased her fingers inside of Michelina’s ready pussy. Andrea thrust her fingers in and out slowly, forcing a moan from Michelina each time her fingers bit deep. When Michelina’s body started pushing against Andrea’s hand, she knew her girlfriend was ready for more. She let the pace increase, her fingers moving faster, deeper inside of Michelina. Each thrust of her fingers pushed Michelina closer to ecstasy, had her body writhing on Andrea’s lap.

Michelina’s fingers dug into Andrea’s shoulder as she started to lose control of her body. Her cries of enjoyment grew sharper as tension began to build up inside. Andrea smiled because she knew her girlfriend was about to come. One, two, three more thrusts of her fingers and she felt the fluttering of Michelina’s pussy as she climaxed. Andrea slowed but didn’t stop, Michelina’s hips jerking each time her fingers slipped deep inside. With no reprieve from the intense pleasure, Michelina’s body succumbed to a second orgasm.

Andrea eased her fingers out of Michelina, gently massaging her bud to keep the lovely feelings working through her girlfriend’s body. She smiled at Michelina when the girl finally pulled her head back. The girl looked a little dazed and out of breath, but she favored Andrea with a warm smile. Leaning in, Andrea kissed her, deeply.

“Stand up,” Andrea said.

Michelina got to her feet, swaying a little. Laughing, she said, “My legs are like jello.”

Smiling up at her, Andrea worked the jeans off Michelina’s hips. She held Michelina’s hand for balance as the girl kicked off her shoes and removed the jeans completely. Andrea admired the girl as she pulled her shirt up and off, too. She never got tired of looking at Michelina.

Her eyes went to the girl’s side and, even by the light of the small fire and on Michelina’s brown skin, she could see the deep red henna tattoo. It had set up nicely, and Andrea was proud of her work. She had been apprehensive about doing one for Selena’s wedding night, but seeing the roses and thorny vines on Michelina’s side and hip, she felt a lot better about it.

Tracing one of the vines with her fingertip, she said, “Thank you for letting me practice on you, Babe.”

Michelina bent over and kissed Andrea, said, “Anytime. I love it.”

“I like it, too,” Andrea said, still tracing the lines on Michelina’s skin. Smiling playfully at her girlfriend, Andrea said, “I’ll miss it when it’s gone.”

Laughing, Michelina kissed her, said, “Me, too.”

Michelina helped Andrea out of her shoes, then reached in and popped the button on her jeans. Andrea lifted her backside off the cushion so that the girl could pull the pants off. Her panties came next, and they were tossed aside. Michelina grabbed Andrea’s ankles, pulled her forward. Laughing, Andrea looked up at her girlfriend from her back. Smiling at her, Michelina kissed the knobby part of Andrea’s ankle, then again on the curve of her calf and the sensitive spot on the inside of her knee. Michelina sank to her knees at the bottom of the lounger, placing a kiss on the inside of Andrea’s thigh. Andrea shivered as the girl’s lips just brushed against the baby fine hairs higher on her thigh. Goosebumps broke out on her legs, and her breathing got a little funny as she saw where this was headed.

Andrea moaned as Michelina’s mouth found her bud. The hot caress of her tongue awoke delicious sensations inside of Andrea, ones that had her hips moving with a mind of their own. Her body wanted more, pushed against Michelina’s mouth greedily.

Andrea bit her lip, but she couldn’t keep her little animal sounds of excitement from escaping. She really wanted to be quiet, wanted to avoid drawing attention to them, but she couldn’t. Michelina was making it impossible to hold in her cries.

Looking at the open end of the burned out building, Andrea’s heart started beating faster. With only two still standing walls, this place wasn’t the most private place to be doing this. The chance of being seen was both exciting and unnerving. The uneasy feeling that someone might be watching made sense, but she often wondered about the excitement she felt. Maybe there was a little exhibitionist inside of her that got a thrill from the danger.

Luckily, Michelina could do amazing things with her tongue and could distract Andrea from her imagined audience. Then the girl eased two fingers into her and Andrea forgot about everything but the pleasure the girl was giving her. Michelina found that magic spot inside of Andrea, teased it with her fingertips. The dueling sensations of her hot tongue and the delicious pressure on her g-spot drove Andrea’s body crazy.

Those two separate sensations melded into one toe-curling, mind-melting one and Andrea knew she it couldn’t last. Nothing this good ever could. It didn’t take long for tension to enter her body, building and building like a water balloon on a faucet. There was only so much of this that Andrea could take and she was already at her limit. That tension got to its critical point, and she cried out as pleasure exploded through her. Her orgasm had its way with her, left her a puddle of happy nerve endings.

Michelina pushed Andrea’s shirt up, and Andrea sat up so she could remove it, then her bra. Completely naked now, Andrea’s eyes went to the missing walls, again. Feeling exposed, she thought, We need to do something about this place.

That was the beginning and the end of the thought as she was distracted by Michelina, again. The girl crawled onto the lounger, lifted one of Andrea’s legs up onto her shoulder, then moved forward until their bodies came together very intimately. Figuring out what Michelina had in mind, Andrea wetted her fingers with saliva to ease the friction between their bodies. The first roll of Michelina’s hips brought a moan to Andrea’s lips and the second forced it out of her. Again, the girl made it impossible to be quiet.

The crackling fire cast deep shadows on Michelina’s lovely body as she moved. The effect was very sensual and incredibly sexy. Andrea couldn’t look away from dancing shadows on Michelina’s taut stomach as she continued to push against her. Mesmerized, she lost herself in the beautiful roll of the girl’s hips.

Michelina hugged Andrea’s leg to her, used it as leverage to really grind their bodies together. The lovely pressure on her bud had Andrea’s nerve ending begging for more, and she clutched at Michelina’s thigh, pulling her forward even harder. Their coupling became frantic in their growing excitement.

Andrea hadn’t had time to recover from the orgasm Michelina had given her with her mouth and fingers, and already she felt another creeping up on her. Michelina either heard it in her cries or just knew Andrea well enough to know she was about to come because she really bore down on Andrea’s bud. Andrea cried out as her body went crazy, then gasped as Michelina didn’t even slow down. Andrea’s breath caught in her throat as Michelina’s body ground relentlessly against hers. The intense pleasure of her orgasm didn’t subside, and her fingers dug into Michelina’s thigh. She couldn’t get the air out of her lungs to draw another breath, it felt so good. Too good, really Andrea realized as a second orgasm took her.

Michelina cried out and stiffened atop her. Even through the haze of her own ecstasy, Andrea realized the girl was coming. The orgasm shook Michelina, then there was a blessed stillness of their bodies. Andrea finally managed to draw a new breath, her whole body trembling.

With a dazed little laugh, she met Michelina’s eyes. The girl was gasping for air, but she managed to smile at Andrea. Leaning in, she kissed Andrea tenderly.

“Babe,” Andrea said, appreciatively. It was one word, but it spoke volumes.

“Yeah,” Michelina agreed, getting off of Andrea. She sat on the side of the lounger, still trying to catch her breath.

Sitting up, Andrea ran her hand over her girlfriend’s back. Smiling, she said, “You are all sweaty.”

Laughing, Michelina kissed her, said, “That was a workout.”

“It was amazing,” Andrea said, kissing her shoulder.

“Yeah,” Michelina said, smiling at her, “we are pretty good at that.”

With a warm smile, Andrea kissed her.

————————————

Lying on the lounger with the naked girl in her arms, Andrea smiled. As amazing as the sex was, she thought she craved this even more. Michelina’s warm body molded against hers just felt right. Most nights, she wished she could sleep here because she missed the feel of Michelina’s soft skin when she was alone in bed.

Really, she just missed Michelina when she wasn’t around, whatever the circumstances. No sooner did she say goodbye, did she want to say hello, again. She never expected to be so hopelessly in love with a girl, but she was.

Emma’s right, Andrea thought, kissing Michelina’s head, she is my soulmate. Smiling, she wondered how much a promise ring cost.

Continue to Part Eight

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