“I just don’t see why you have to do this. I mean, don’t they have men for that kind of thing?” Tara picked her way through the debris of bedding that was lying strewn on the floor and sat gingerly on the edge of the old sofa at the side of the tiny, dusty and rather unkempt room.
Willow turned from her position, crouched by the side of the Murphy bed that was looking a little worse for wear. She met Tara’s eyes and frowned slightly, eliciting a helpless gaze from the blonde. Sometimes, she told herself, she had to remember that Tara wasn’t the most adept person at mending things. In fact, the redhead thought, returning to her work, Tara was pretty clumsy at the best of times. There were three broken china figurines to prove that, although Tara had blamed an over enthusiastic Miss Kitty. But Willow knew the truth; a tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth. Tara’s clumsiness was so cute, even if it was proving expensive for her figurine collection.
When Faith had got out of prison (released early for good behaviour, which had not only mystified everyone but made them laugh as well) she had set course for her hometown of Boston. An invitation to come and visit had been taken less seriously by the rest of the Scoobies than by Willow and Tara. Tara had been kind enough to offer Faith a hand of friendship, although Willow had been kind of surprised at first. But, she sighed to herself, reaching for a socket wrench on the floor beside her, Tara had that way of persuading someone to do things they wouldn’t normally do. And that didn’t just include offering the hand of friendship, Willow smiled again, a memory bringing a slight blush behind her ears.
“I…I mean don’t they have bed repair men?” Tara broke the silence, leaning forward on the sofa and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
Willow turned again to look at her girlfriend. “Honey, they do have bed repair men, yes, that’s true. But what’s the point in spending money that Faith doesn’t have to get someone to come and do what’s really quite easy?”
“Says you,” a voice reached them from the hallway as Faith appeared, leaning against the doorframe leading into the bed/sitting room. She nodded towards Willow and shrugged slightly, folding her arms across her chest. “So what’s the deal with the bed, Red?” she grinned widely at her own rhyme.
Willow turned back to the bed, putting her hand on the metal frame and wobbling it slightly. She didn’t have a clue what was wrong with it. Only that the bed wouldn’t fold back into its cupboard and one of the legs wasn’t quite touching the floor.
“Uh…I think it has a loose fitting somewhere. Or it’s missing a screw.” Willow said, biting her lip thoughtfully as she surveyed the frame carefully in that ‘workman’ way she’d seen so often before.
“Missin’ a screw?” Faith echoed as she made her way over to where Tara sat, dropping easily down onto the sofa beside the blonde. She flashed a crooked smile across to Tara, “In that case, the bed has my complete sympathy; I know just how that feels.”
Tara flushed red and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, looking across to Willow, who frowned at Faith before turning back to the bed again.
“Faith, just how did the bed get broken?” the redhead asked, turning to a huge toolbox on the floor next to her. She rummaged inside it for a second, before pulling out a hammer, holding it in her hand, feeling the weight of it. She closed her fingers around the rubber handle and gripped tightly.
“You know what Red, I don’t know,” Faith leant back on the sofa and laid her arms along the back of it. “It was like that when I got here, I swear. I mean, this place ain’t no Ritz, that’s for sure.” She looked around the tiny place that was all she had been able to afford. It was definitely kind of crappy. Well, Faith thought, maybe not even good enough to be crappy.
“It’s fine,” Tara said, drawing the Slayer’s gaze onto her, and blushing for her pains. “I mean, it will be, once you get the uh…” she glanced over to where Willow was, “the b-bed sorted out.” She smoothed her hands down over her plaid skirt and looked down at her knees.
“Yeah well, once I get the bed sorted out, maybe I can get me sorted out as well,” Faith grinned lasciviously, realising that her efforts to make Tara blush had succeeded.
“Faith.” Willow’s voice came to them from the floor where she now lay under the bed, looking up at the frame from below. “I know what you’re implying. Don’t.”
“Who, me?” Faith stood up and walked over to where Willow lay, tongue slightly sticking out from between her lips as she lifted the hammer and tentatively tapped at the frame. The Slayer looked down, realising for the first time how attractive Willow was when she was concentrating. “Need a hand, Red?”
“No, I think I’ve got it.” Willow grunted, tapping again at the frame, the metal clang echoing through the room. She slid out from underneath the bed and reached for the toolbox again, her face serious. “See, what’s happened is that the bed has slipped off its couplings; I need to take out a few screws,” she reached for a huge screwdriver, “and put it back on its coupling, then screw these in tight again.” She glanced up at Faith, “Simple really.”
“If you say so,” Faith tried to see what Willow was talking about but failed to get it. “How did you get so butch all of a sudden?” she asked, a tiny smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
“What’s the matter, jealous?” Willow grinned, blowing a piece of hair away from her forehead and bending down to fiddle with the bed frame again.
Tara was met with the sight of Willow’s jean clad rear staring her in the face. For a minute or two, she found that she was unable to look at much else. Then, starting herself out of her reverie, she stood up. “Can I help?”
“Can you give me a screw?” Willow asked, “A big one?”
Tara met Faith’s eyes and they stifled their giggles. A sigh of desperation came from Willow’s direction. “If you two are going to be silly about it…”
“No honey, I’m sorry,” Tara’s tone was suitably chastised as she bent down over the toolbox. “Where are they?”
“Uh, in the little drawer at the top. And I’ll need the ratchet as well. And uh, maybe a monkey wrench.” Willow said, her tone brisk and businesslike. For some reason, Tara felt her face grow hot as she searched for the items, quite unsure of what it was she was looking for.
Sliding under the bed, Willow lay on her stomach and crawled towards the rear of the frame. The bed hinges rested in two metal sockets, and the frame had become detached. All she needed to do was take out the existing screws, move the frame into the sockets and then screw back in again. Easy, she thought to herself, flushing with what she was sure could be racked up to ‘lesbo street cred’.
She fitted the wrench around one of the nuts and pulled, puffing out her cheeks with the effort. Finally it began to give and she loosened it easily, reaching for the screw it held in. The metal fell into her hand and she removed it. A tiny bead of sweat worked its way down her forehead as she pulled at the nut on the other side of the frame.
“Dammit, I need something else,” she muttered, “Tara, can you get me the pliers? I think I need more purchase on this nut.”
Tara almost swooned with the technical talk, and reached a hand that was surely trembling by now into the toolbox. She remembered a certain time when all Willow had had to do was talk about vectors on a computer program and she’d been lost in a lustful outpouring of emotion. She made a mental note to get Willow to explain tools to her in more detail later, when they were alone. Damn the vectors; big screws and monkey wrenches were way more interesting.
“Okay, that should do it,” Willow said, sliding out from underneath the bed. As she stood up, her face was flushed, a sheen of sweat shining on her forehead. She rubbed a hand across it, leaving a streak of dirt just below her hairline. Her clothes were covered with dust that had been underneath the bed for months, most likely. Letting out a breath, she noticed both Tara and Faith staring at her.
“What?” she asked, mystified, her gaze going from one to the other.
Both girls looked at Willow, standing in front of them, her casual shirt and jeans covered in grime; her face streaked with dirt; the pliers shoved into her jeans pocket and the monkey wrench in her hand. Then they looked at each other, realising that they’d been thinking exactly the same thing. It was a really good look for the redhead. A really, really good look. The kind of look that elicited thoughts of the kind that Faith had only ever had late at night in the prison cell; and the kind that Tara had only ever had late at night in bed with Willow. Tara blushed. Faith coughed, looking away reluctantly.
Willow shook her head, unable to see what they saw. “Faith, can you just lift the bed a bit and we’ll see if we can’t jiggle it back onto the couplings somehow.”
“Lift the bed?” Faith asked, her eyebrows rising slightly.
“Yeah, well, what with your Slayer strength and all.” Willow said.
“Jiggle?” Tara said.
Willow turned to her and flashed her a brilliant smile, “Yeah, jiggle.”
Tara blushed again, her mind still on those thoughts that had not quite left her head yet.
Faith put her hands underneath the bed frame and lifted slightly, grunting with the effort. Sure enough, Willow helped to jiggle the frame until, with a snapping sound, the struts clicked into the metal sockets. Faith let the bed drop to the floor and brushed off her hands. “Nice goin’, tool girl,” nodded her head in appreciation. “Guess I get to give the bed a test run after all then?” she grinned wickedly at Tara, “Unless you two wanna do the honours for me?”
A wry smile on her face, Willow slid back under the bed, the pliers, monkey wrench and new, big screws in her fist. She began slipping the screw into the hole, aligning them up so that the fastening would be firm. The only sound was metal on metal, and some heavy breathing from Tara as she watched.
The blonde bent down over the toolbox that Willow had told her was her pride and joy. Ever since the redhead had mended her computer; then the Buffybot, it seemed like she was taking pride in becoming a regular handy girl. Handy girl, Tara sighed to herself. Very handy. She smiled as she rummaged in the toolbox. Willow had gotten quite protective about this stupid box, like she had the crown jewels in it or something. On the way to visit Faith, she’d insisted on carrying it with her instead of stowing it in the luggage hold. Odd.
Tara’s hand closed over something she assumed was the right thing. It was long and solid, with an odd-shaped handle at one end. What she knew about tools she could write on a postage stamp, she thought to herself.
“And what does this do?” she held it up as Willow turned her head round to look.
Faith glanced down, instantly covering her mouth and making strangled noises that Tara assumed was laughter. She frowned, looking down again at the object in her hand. “Is it a tool?” she asked innocently.
Willow gulped, her face turning puce. “Uh…kinda.” She didn’t dare look up at Faith.
“So what does it do?” Tara asked again.
“Um…how about I finish this, and then I’ll show you later what it does, ok?” Willow turned back to her bed mending, realising that it was going to be a long night.
Tara nodded, replacing the tool (or whatever it was) back into the box. Then her eyes alighted on something else, down at the bottom of the tool case. She frowned, her gaze flickering between the objects and the figure of Willow, fiercely tightening the nut on the screw, her knuckles white as she gripped the wrench.
The journey home had been silent. Neither girl really trusted herself to say anything, for fear of letting their feelings out. After bidding Faith a hasty goodbye, Willow and Tara had hailed the first cab they had seen outside Faith’s building. Sitting in the rear seat, Tara kept stealing looks across at Willow, dusty and rather red-faced beside her, the huge tool box clutched on her knee with one hand, the other grasping Tara’s own. Willow kept circling Tara’s middle knuckle with her index finger, increasing the pressure ever so slightly every time. The longing crept up inside Tara and her eyes flicked over again to Willow’s face. The redhead sat with her gaze looking dead ahead, never once acknowledging the blonde’s presence.
By the time they reached their hotel room, Tara’s skin was burning with need for Willow’s touch. She followed the redhead into the room, watching as Willow bent down to place the toolbox on the floor. Kicking the door shut behind them with her foot, Tara felt her desire rise like a wave inside her throat, making her mouth very dry.
“Well, at least we got Faith’s bed – “ Willow began, before finding herself in the grip of two small, but strong hands. She let out a whoosh of air as she found herself pinned up against the wall of the room, her shoulders hitting the surface with a dull thud. Before she even had a moment to register what had happened, she found a mouth pressed on her own, very hard, and very urgent. Tara’s lips parted so that her tongue could snake inside Willow’s own mouth, tumbling around with her own, tasting her.
Willow’s hands came up around Tara’s back, holding her in close, her fingers kneading the rough texture of Tara’s sweater, pressing into the skin beneath that felt hot and fevered. For a moment, both girls seemed unable to kiss fast enough, hard enough; it was as though both of them wanted to sate their desire in one single minute. A low groan came from the base of Tara’s throat as her hands moved down between their bodies to squeeze Willow’s breasts. The redhead felt the touch like fire, running up and down her body, setting all her senses aflame.
She reached out, needing to touch Tara, running her fingers down the blonde’s chest, to where her breasts were aching for the redhead’s skilled caress.
But Tara moved away. Pushing herself off Willow, she stepped back and shook her head slightly, leaning against the opposite wall of the hallway leading into the room. It was darker in the corridor and all Willow could see was Tara’s glistening mouth, her lips a deep red, and her eyes, shining with a feverish glint at her. The redhead took a breath and realised she was panting slightly.
“I couldn’t wait,” Tara said simply, her voice low and gravelled.
“I don’t blame you,” Willow grinned, “Hell, I encourage it!”
“You…” Tara leant her head back against the wall, letting out a tiny sigh that sent shivers up and down Willow’s spine. She closed her eyes briefly, before bringing them down to look at her girlfriend; the way she stood casually in her dirty jeans, her t-shirt covered in dust and grime. The streak of dirt on her forehead was still there, rubbed in and diluted with sweat that lingered on Willow’s clothes. It was intoxicating, thought Tara, her own lust for the other girl increasing with a throbbing that started in the pit of her stomach. She recalled how she had gazed at Willow’s form in Faith’s apartment; she had seen the want on the Slayer’s face too. What made it all the more exciting was that Willow hadn’t.
“Me?” Willow asked innocently, folding her arms over her chest.
“When you were doing all that tool stuff, god, I thought I was going to die!” Tara said softly, her eyes running up and down the other girl’s form. “You looked so…” she trailed away, smiling a secretive little smile to herself.
“So…?” Willow took a step forward, a naughty grin flickering through her eyes.
“There’s something about manual labour that gets me. I mean, gets me when you do it. Not when someone else….” Tara broke off, laughing slightly. “I’ve never seen that side of you before.”
Willow shrugged. “Someone has to be handy around here.” Her voice was light and playful, although there was a timbre to it that awakened something in Tara; made her realise that this was all preamble to something much, much better.
“Handy eh?” Tara murmured, as Willow took another step closer. She caught a faint scent of Willow’s body perfume, sandalwood and patchouli, mixed with the girl’s more natural, earthy odour. Half closing her eyes, she breathed it in. Willow. All Willow. And that was all she wanted.
“Yeah, handy,” Willow breathed; now standing close to the other girl. She reached out with one finger and trailed it down Tara’s cheek, pressing into the soft skin. Tara closed her eyes, letting out a heavy breath. Leaning in, Willow’s finger continued its pathway downward, down Tara’s throat, down to where her sweater curved round her neck. Plucking at the material, Willow’s eyes met Tara’s in a deep green message of a promise.
“Off,” Willow demanded. “Take it off.”
Obediently, Tara complied, her hands shaking. She had barely pulled the sweater over her head before Willow grabbed from her hands and threw it to one side, down the corridor. As the air met her skin, Tara shivered. But she knew it wasn’t from cold.
Willow’s finger returned to its former path, blazing a line of heat down Tara’s chest, to where her bra sat snugly over her breasts. The redhead let her fingers pattern down over the bra to where Tara’s nipple was straining at the lacy material. She rubbed her fingertip over it once or twice, watching in pleasure as the blonde leant her head back against the wall again, biting at her lower lip.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know what that tool was for,” Willow said in a low voice, a tiny smile curving the corners of her mouth.
“I…I knew w-what it was f-for,” Tara’s voice was weak as Willow’s fingers began tweaking her nipple, pulling it through the material of her bra, firming it to a stiff peak. “I wanted to hear you tell me. I wanted to hear you…” she gasped as Willow leaned forward and licked gently at her collarbone. “W-wanted to hear you say it. Describe it.”
“How about I show you what all my tools are for? You’d like that?”
Tara nodded dumbly, almost afraid to hear her own voice. A tightness in her throat strangled any coherent words she might have spoken. Instead, she reached out with her hands to touch Willow, to feel the redhead’s lithe body under her touch. Often, she dreamt about how that silken skin felt beneath her fingers; under her hands. Sometimes, all she could think about was a blur of Willow; skin covered with sheen of sweat as she called out Tara’s name in the midst of their lovemaking.
“I need to take a shower,” Willow said abruptly, stepping back from Tara’s fingers.
The blonde’s eyes snapped open and she stared at her girlfriend. Willow held out her shirt, pulling on the material, “I’m all sweaty and icky,” she explained. She pushed back her hair from her face and rubbed at her forehead, only serving to smear the dirt in further.
“No, don’t.”
Willow opened her eyes wide in surprise, just the once, before the hungry expression flitting across Tara’s face sunk in. She smiled a slow, long smile, before her tongue crept out to moisten her lips.
“Oh my, Tara,” she stepped back towards the blonde again, her fingers returning to both of Tara’s nipples, rubbing over them gently, then harder. “Tara’s a bad girl who likes her Willow all dirty isn’t she?”
“Tara’s a…oh god Willow,” Tara gasped as Willow’s fingers tweaked her nipples hard, sending a flash of pain right down to her legs, echoed with intense pleasure, “Tara’s a girl who likes her Willow to fuck her.” She swallowed hard, “Please.”
“Ah,” Willow moved in closer, her hands now kneading at Tara’s breasts, squeezing on them with intent, “my Tara.” She bent her head, nuzzling the other girl’s neck, taking in mouthfuls of flesh and sucking on it before letting it go. “I love it when you say that to me. I love the way it sounds coming from your mouth.”
Tara squirmed against Willow’s lips, her breath coming out in heavy, drawn out bursts. The redhead pressed her thigh up against Tara, parting her legs underneath her skirt, pushing against the part of her that Tara felt was surely on fire by now. She was already wet, she knew that. She could feel the heavy moistness pushing at her panties, trickling down the sides of her lips. The sensation of Willow’s lips on her neck; the feather-light touches of the red hair across her shoulder only served to heighten the way she was feeling right now. She brought her hands up behind Willow, feeling the faint dampness of sweat on the other girl’s back in a thin line down the centre of her shirt. Spreading her palms on Willow’s back, Tara tried to pull her in closer, her hands shifting down to the redhead’s ass to give her more friction in between her legs.
Willow pulled her head back, her eyes flashing a dangerous green. The expression on her face was primal, lusty and hungry for the other girl. It excited Tara beyond belief; she always loved it when Willow looked at her like that. It was as though some hidden cord was tugged, and that tugging on her nerves travelled from the tips of her nipples right down to explode in her pussy.
“Tell me again, Tara,” Willow growled, her lips only inches from the other girl’s swollen mouth, aching for the redhead’s kiss. “Tell me again what you like.”
Tara could feel Willow’s breath on her cheek, could feel the heat coming from her in waves, like emotion, like want. She swallowed again and felt Willow’s hands on her breasts, relentlessly caressing them. “Uh..I w-want you to fuck me Willow. Please,” she repeated, with much effort, in a voice as thick as treacle.
A laugh came from the redhead and she stepped back again. “Oh I will,” she grinned, her eyes roaming the blonde’s body up and down. “But first, I’ll explain to you about my tools. Cuz you know, tools are close to a girl’s heart when it comes to pleasing others. I mean, I think I made Faith very happy today.” She turned, bending down to open her tool box, taking out the monkey wrench she had used on Faith’s bed. Standing up, she brandished it in front of her like a weapon, then dropped it a little, a faint whisper of a smile on her face. “I think Faith was satisfied, don’t you?”
Tara closed her eyes, remembering the look on Faith’s face as they had both stared down at Willow’s efforts. She put her hands flat on the wall behind her, feeling its coolness against her palms that were already moist with need. “She wanted you.” Her voice held a tinge of jealousy that Willow sensed. But that only served to increase the smile on her face.
“Did she? Me?”
Tara fixed her eyes on Willow’s face and gave her a gimlet blue stare. “You know she did. She wanted you. Just like me.”
“Ah well,” Willow stepped closer again, leaning in to trace the line of Tara’s lips with her tongue, leaving a white-hot trail of desire along the blonde’s mouth. “You know she can’t have me don’t you? Because Tara…” Willow reached up and put her hand on Tara’s flaming cheek, “I’m yours. All. Yours.”
Sighing, Tara turned her head to try and capture Willow’s fingers in her mouth, but the redhead pulled her hand away, leaving the blonde gazing at her in exasperation, squirming against the rhythm her hips were already throbbing below her.
“So,” Willow looked down at the wrench in her hand, “One thing I learned about using tools is that you can’t start work on something until you strip it down.” She raised her gaze to Tara, letting it slide up and down her body, taking in the half-dressed girl in front of her, her breasts heaving with breaths of desire, her eyes heavy-lidded and almost sleepy with want. Willow felt her own heartbeat quicken and a faint throbbing begin in her loins.
“St-strip it down?” Tara’s stammer returned to interrupt her thoughts that were driving her almost insane with yearning for the feel of Willow’s hands, body, mouth, on her, over her, in her. She wanted it all. And making love with Willow had always been that; everything they did had always made her feel whole.
“Yeah,” Willow trailed the wrench down Tara’s shoulder to her bra strap, where it rested. The cool metal sent a shiver down Tara’s body and her teeth came out to grasp her bottom lip. “Strip it all down. All of it. Then you can start work.” She nudged the bra strap with the wrench so that it fell off Tara’s shoulder. The same on the other side. Tara gazed at Willow with wide eyes as the redhead stood back, looking at her handiwork.
“I’m not sure I…” Tara began, but Willow shook her head, waving the wrench around as she talked, for emphasis.
“Yeah well I am. I’m very sure. Take it off Tara. All of it. I want to see you.” Willow’s tone was very firm, and her jaw jutted out slightly as she cast a look over to Tara that the blonde could rarely resist. Sometimes, when they were in bed, Willow would whisper such things to her that she would blush; although, she knew that it was exactly such type of talk that turned her on so much. Being dirty with Willow was something she’d only ever dreamed about, until relatively recently. It seemed, Tara thought thankfully, that she and Willow had more in common that just magick, at times.
Reaching up behind her, Tara unclasped her bra and removed it, letting her breasts feel the coolness of the corridor. In the half-light, she could swear that Willow’s eyes were gleaming as they feasted on the sight of her naked flesh. With trembling fingers, Tara threw the bra to one side, then stood back against the wall.
“And the skirt.” Willow said, in a low husky tone that sent a ripple of pleasure up and down Tara’s body, making her nipples stand out, erect.
Tara unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground around her ankles. Stepping out of it, she was about to pick it up when Willow merely reached out with her foot and kicked it away. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, Tara was about to pull them down when Willow reached forward, grabbing her wrist.
“No, keep those on for now,” she whispered, stealing a kiss. With one hand, she pushed Tara back against the wall hard, her fingers pressing into the skin on her shoulder that Tara felt was on fire. Willow’s cool touch imprinted itself on her flesh as the redhead’s surprising strength belied her tiny frame. Once more, Willow pressed herself up against Tara’s body, her clothes making a roughened friction against the other girl’s skin. Tara let out a moan at the contact, pushing her hips forward onto Willow’s jeans, trying to straddle the redhead’s leg. But the cold hardness of metal on her inner thigh stopped her, pressing into her skin, making her let out a gasp that turned into a moan.
“You see,” Willow reached down with one hand to grab Tara’s wrists and put her arms up over her head, holding them for a minute until the blonde got the idea of what she was supposed to do, “working with tools requires precision. You can’t rush it.” She trailed her fingers down Tara’s arms, raking her nails over the sensitive skin of the blonde’s forearms, eliciting a rush of air expelled from a mouth that was open. She drew her fingers down to Tara’s shoulders, then took them back up again, painstakingly slowly, towards Tara’s wrists.
Upon reaching them, she intertwined her fingers with those of the blonde witch, squeezing tightly. Leaning in, she put her lips on Tara’s, gently, lightly, softly. But Tara pushed her head forwards, capturing Willow’s mouth, pushing her tongue inside to taste the redhead. Despite herself, Willow couldn’t help moaning and letting her own tongue mingle with Tara’s, both increasing the kiss with a blazing intensity until it felt like they were dizzy with the taste and scent and closeness of each other. As Tara strained forwards, Willow could feel the hard points of her girlfriend’s nipples through her shirt; she wanted to fuck her right there and then, it was like a drug, being this close to Tara when she was so full of desire and need. It sometimes hit her in a wave when she let her thoughts drift to the soft, pliant skin of the blonde, and memories cascaded through her brain of other times, other moments, other intimacies between them.
Breaking the kiss, Willow gazed breathlessly at Tara, their eyes meeting in a mutual understanding of how the game was to be played. Sensing anxiety and not a little annoyance in the pair of blue eyes fixed so firmly on her own, Willow gave a little smile and blinked slowly, letting the passion drip slowly down her body, to where she was sure she was wet.
“It’s like making love,” she continued her narration before the kiss, “You have to take it slowly to make sure you’re doing it right. You have to use the right tools,” she punctuated this with a hardened thrust of the wrench against Tara’s thigh, sliding it upwards until it rested against the cotton of her panties. As Tara gasped and squirmed her hips forwards again, Willow bent her head to take one of Tara’s nipples in her mouth, nipping gently at the hard point; holding it between her teeth before pulling on it and letting go. The sensation buzzed its way down Tara’s body, resulting in another wave of warmth between her legs.
“Willow…” Tara’s voice escaped from her mouth, a pleading tone only serving to increase the excitement of the redhead.
“You see, Tara, you have to be careful when you’re working with tools. Make sure you put things in the right place, at the right time,” Willow whispered, her tongue circling Tara’s nipple with agonising slowness. She moved the wrench upwards until it was pressing against the damp panties covering Tara’s pussy. Applying a little pressure, Willow sucked hard on Tara’s nipple whilst the tool she held rubbed up and down over Tara’s panties.
The cool metal hardness was unlike anything Tara had ever experienced. Whilst she knew she shouldn’t like it; that it was in some way degraded, or dirty, she couldn’t deny the pleasure that the feeling of hard metal against her hotness was giving her. She couldn’t help but rub herself up and down against it, feeling the contact against her clit; hearing the groan as Willow realised what she was doing; feeling the redhead’s hold on her hand tighten, almost to a point where it hurt. But it was good. It was so good. She felt Willow’s teeth around her nipple, biting down, suckling on her tortured flesh, the flaming red hair fanning out on her chest and tickling at her stomach.
“Please Willow!” she heard herself beg. At that moment, she would have let the redhead do anything; say anything, just to feel her touch forever, to have her caress for eternity.
Willow pulled her head back from Tara’s breast, her mouth wet with her own saliva where it had covered the hard nipples in front of her mouth. Licking her lips, Willow removed the wrench from between Tara’s legs and threw it behind her, where it fell onto the floor with a dull thud. Her fingers left Tara’s and trailed their way down her arms, again, raking with her nails, leaving a red wake behind them. The redhead slid her body down Tara’s until she was kneeling in front of the blonde, her face on a level with the other girl’s pussy. Breathing in, Willow filled her senses with Tara; with the scent that was unmistakeably erotic, musky and heavy with the other girl’s desire.
Hooking her fingers over the waistband of Tara’s panties, Willow slid them down her legs and made her step out of them. Sliding one hand up the length of Tara’s leg, she reached around and cupped the blonde’s ass, pulling her towards her mouth. She could feel the trembling in Tara’s thighs as she put her mouth onto the patch of blonde curls in front of her, already wet with juice that Willow was aching to taste. Reaching out with her tongue, she licked just once at Tara’s pussy, causing the other girl to moan unintelligibly and entwine her fingers in the folds of Willow’s hair. With the taste of Tara on her mouth, Willow reached out blindly, fumbling in the toolbox for the item she had been longing to use for quite a while. Grasping it in her hand, she pulled it out and returned her attention to Tara, nuzzling her face into the wet curls in front of her.
“You taste so good,” she murmured, the vibrations of her voice echoing through Tara’s loins. “You always taste so good,” she added, licking at her lips and looking up at her girlfriend so that Tara could watch her.
The sight of Willow licking her own juice from her mouth sent a new wave of passion through Tara’s body, inching towards her head, then rushing desperately as the last vestiges of patience disappeared. Pulling on Willow’s hair so hard that it brought tears to the other girl’s eyes, Tara forced her lover to return to her pussy, where she arched her back, pushing her hips forwards so that she could rub herself on Willow’s mouth.
Bringing up her other hand, Willow shoved the object into Tara’s pussy, pushing it up inside her, switching it on so that it vibrated a constant hum inside the other girl. Instantly, Tara moaned aloud, throwing her head back and letting out a strangled sound of pure pleasure. Her fingers tensed, wrapped in Willow’s hair, as the dildo began to move in and out of her pussy, buzzing needle points of sensation on her inner walls, moving through the slick wetness that was easing the object in and out with no effort at all.
Willow heard Tara’s moan and shivered as she pressed her tongue onto the other girl’s clit, massaging it round and round, as her hand pumped the dildo in and out. The feeling of power that surged through her only served to increase her intensity, to define the particular game, to round off the rules. This was how it should be today; this was how it would be again sometime. Having Tara, tasting Tara, loving Tara with every second, every fibre in her body, sometimes it felt like too much. But right now, at this minute, it felt like never enough. She increased the pressure on Tara’s clit, flicking the hard nub back and forth with her tongue, the coppery taste of the other girl filling her mouth, her head, her own body.
Tara’s grip increased, pulling on Willow’s hair. The pain shot through the redhead like wildfire, but she continued in her pleasure, ignoring it, willing Tara to come, urging Tara’s pussy to bring her to that point that Willow loved so much. Her tongue began to move faster, flicking with force, as the dildo moved in and out with an increased rhythm. Willow felt the juices slide down the dildo onto her hand, just as she felt her tongue pick up more of Tara’s taste each time she lapped at the blonde’s clit with her tongue.
A moment, or was it an hour, later; neither girl could tell. They were locked in a mutual embrace and a crescendo of passion that was sure to crest and engulf them both. Tara’s thighs began to shake uncontrollably as she felt herself moving upwards, running towards that place only Willow could ever take her. She began thrusting her hips forwards, feeling her ass banging against the wall every time she moved backwards. Willow matched her, thrust for thrust, as she felt the shuddering begin at the base of Tara’s legs, working its way up towards the hot wetness on her lips. As her orgasm began, Tara threw back her head and felt a thin line of sweat trickle down between her breasts as the sensation blanketed its way up her body, filling her, emptying her, surrounding her in darkness and yet blinding her with its light. She searched for the one thing that danced in her mind always; and, screaming Willow’s name aloud, she let herself pour every drop of emotion onto the other girl’s lips.
Willow’s mouth never left her pussy, even when she removed the dildo and put the palm of her hand there instead. She let Tara’s throbbing clit jump once or twice between her lips, then laid her head on the other girl’s stomach, resting her mouth on the blonde curls that were now soaking wet. Her head moved up and down as Tara tried to regain her breath, her fingers now caressing and stroking Willow’s hair, even though they trembled as much as her legs.
“I love…love you Willow…oh god I love you so much…” she gasped, through ragged breaths that heralded tears at the back of her eyes.
“Mmm, love you too.” Willow replied, her voice almost sleepy and dulled with the energy they had just created. “I can’t get enough of you, witchy girl,” she sighed. “Never enough. Never too much.”
“Me either,” Tara breathed, sure that her heart was about to break out of her chest and go singing down the street, she felt so happy at this moment. She smoothed back Willow’s hair and reached down, putting her hands underneath the redhead’s shoulders to bring her up to eye level. Bending her head forwards, she kissed Willow on the lips, tasting herself, renewing some of the passion she had felt so strongly just moments ago. She smoothed her hands down Willow’s back, feeling the other girl’s hot skin underneath her shirt. A faint smile caressed her lips, making Willow frown.
“What?” the redhead questioned softly, dropping light kisses onto Tara’s collarbone.
“About that shower…” Tara began.
THE END
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