CW: Lewdness

 

“And I know I've kissed you before, but / I didn't do it right / Can I try again, try again, try again? / Try again, and again,  and again? / And again, and again, and again?”

 

Ever since coming to be on her own, Sybil had done what she could to cultivate an aura of aloof confidence, of detached, collected control; Sybil would be lying to herself if she were to make the claim that she had always succeeded in doing so. Over the years, she’d been struck with many moments of doubt, failure, raw emotional weakness, but Sybil might also be one to point out that, despite such deviations, in general, she had managed to project that air around most she’d interfaced with. Madelyn shredded any such inclination. In her life, still brimming with youth and potential, Sybil had achieved so much. She had tamed an entire forest, making it her own, she had consorted with beings old as the world itself, she had woven new and complex spells, she had even, on more than one occasion, used her talents to baffle the great witch Illis herself, one of the most powerful, and kindest, witches to ever be. 

 

Sitting before the woman she loved, trembling, staring longingly, none of that mattered. Pinned by those piercing blue eyes, Sybil was unmade, a small porcelain effigy, cupped delicately in her lover’s hands. So fragile. But safe. Treasured. Belonging. With a sly smile, Madelyn advanced upon Sybil, crawling across the bed to her until her face was inches from Sybil’s. Gently, she stroked Sybil’s cheek, causing the witch to shudder in place as her muscles struggled to keep from going completely limp. And those eyes, so big, now so close to her. They ensnared her, all while daring her to look anywhere else. The only thing keeping Sybil from crumbling then and there was the knowledge that she doubtlessly had the same effect upon Madelyn, whose hot breath was coming in heavy, rapid gasps, tickingly Sybil’s cheeks and neck. 

 

For too long, they stayed like that, both frozen in place by the gaze of the other, the silence only disturbed by staggered panting. She wanted to say something, so badly, but forcing her lips to emit any sound seemed insurmountable. There was no certainty as to when, but at some point Sybil’s hand wound up atop Madelyn’s, clinging with a desperate strength. Madelyn returned the gesture, and, somehow, Sybil found whatever it was she needed to speak. “Kiss me,” she breathed, Madelyn needed no further encouragement. Hot, soft lips met her own, pressing into Sybil as she let the weight of her lover guide them both downward. For years, Sybil had dreamt of this taste, pined after it. Day and night, she wondered what flavor her lover might take. Sometimes, it was distinct: coffee on her breath, whiskey and ginger, ripe cherries fresh from the garden. This, though, was simply Madelyn; Sybil wanted nothing else.

 

The kiss broke, and Sybil was on her back, arms cast out then wound tightly around her lover, legs interlocked with legs, thighs rubbing against thighs, feet tenderly brushing feet. Like that, she and Madelyn were one whole being. Like that she found meaning and truth in every moment that had led to this one. So much doubt, so much pain; she wept for it all. She wept for the lonely nights, for the moments of doubt, for the anger and failure, for the way she’d needed to come apart and reform before this moment could occur. Then she wept for the joy, the elation, the triumph, the fact that of all the people she could be, she was Madelyn, and there was nobody better. 

 

“Are you alright?” Concern crept into her lover’s cool, husky voice. 

 

It was not the first time Sybil had heard such apprehension from Madelyn, doubtless it would not be the last; Sybil could say with certainty, though, that this was the first time ever which she could answer truthfully: “yes. Yes I am.” She grinned, Madelyn mirrored her, then bowed low to lock their lips once more. 

 

“To see you happy like this, Sybil, it’s wonderful.” She said that as though her own smile weren’t some work of art commissioned by fate for her and her alone. 

 

“I could say the same about you. You’ve hardly been all smiles lately.” As though she were simply reaching out to pluck some ripened fruit, she gently caressed Madelyn’s cheek with her thumb. The casual nature of it all struck Sybil so profoundly, resonating to her very core. It was something she could just do now. Whenever she wanted, that silky skin, those tender hands, those flush cheeks and full lips, that eager mouth, all of it and so much more could be Sybil’s without hesitation or reproach. For no reason other than that she could, whenever she wanted to, Sybil pressed her lips to Madelyn’s again, parting them effortlessly. 

 

“These past days have been difficult for both of us, Sybil. I hope, I hope that eventually I can make it worth the—”

 

“You already have, my love.” Her lips always ached, yearned to say those words, they burned in Sybil’s heart and tingled up and down her throat like gulping down the strongest liquor, and intoxicating her all the same. She loved Madelyn, and simply saying it, thinking it sent shivers coursing through her. For Madelyn’s part, hearing them uttered seemed to have that same effect.

 

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to make it worth your while several times over. And a few more, just because I can,” that cocky grin of her bloomed up Madelyn’s lips, then Sybil bloomed upon Madelyn’s lips, before the sight alone left the poor witch absolutely helpless. Silence fell, but not that uncomfortable, apprehensive silence Sybil was so used to. This was not the quiet of two people wanting to speak their mind, but unable. This was the quiet of two people who wanted nothing more than to savor each moment of the other. For just the right length, it hung in the air, then Madelyn spoke again, “do you want more, my love?” Sybil was uncertain which she liked better, saying it or hearing it; luckily, her sample size was far too small, and she had ample opportunity to find out.

 

“I want all of you, Madelyn. I want you to have all of me. But I need you to know, I’ve never—I-I don’t know—with a woman, with anyone, I haven’t—”

 

“Hey, it’s alright.” And it was, because Madelyn said so, and also because somewhere along the way, their lips had brushed together so briefly and electrically. That could erase any doubt. “Tell me what you want, Sybil.” 

 

“Earlier, you said you’d like to feel my other lips against yours.” Her cheeks ran hot, never in her life had Sybil confessed something like that. But that was okay; the way Madelyn made her feel, Sybil could get used to that kind of vulnerability. 

 

“You’re right, I did say that. And I still would. In fact, I think I’d like that very, very much” Madelyn planted a kiss along Sybil’s jaw, then several more, working her way up to Sybil’s ear. “Just stay still, darling.” She whispered. Deftly, her fingers worked to undo the knots tying Sybil’s bottoms, then, in a smooth motion, she unwrapped Sybil with the same casual ease of some loosely bound parcel, exposing the warm heat of her nether regions to the cool night air. “Been looking forward to this?” She murmured, her eyes transfixed. Typically, in her fantasies, Sybil might imagine her lover—might imagine Madelyn—working her way down with slow, agonizing patience, kissing every part of Sybil on the way. For their first time, though, neither had the patience. 

 

In moments, Sybil could feel the heat of Madelyn’s breath coming against the heat which radiated from her core. And suddenly, the embarrassment swelled in ways she never could have predicted. Some unwanted part of her could only ask one question: was she even good enough? Would Madelyn even like what she saw? Would her inexperience shine through and ruin their time together? What if, after all she’d been through, Sybil could still find some way ruin it all? Her breaths came short again, lungs struggling to keep pace as her heart roared and eyes stung. Then the warm softness of Madelyn’s hand was tightly wrapped around her own. She must have noticed the apprehension, but those eyes carried nothing but tenderness as they gazed up into Sybil’s own. 

 

“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you. And I won’t leave. This is all I want. You’re mine. And I’m yours.” The hammering in Sybil’s heart did not stop, but its cause changed. She managed a weak nod, and Madelyn’s gaze lowered, planting a tender kiss on her inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful.” Her voice never rose above that same soft whisper from before. “I thought I had to keep that to myself for so long, but now, now I can have you whenever I want. I’m still not even sure I’ve fully processed that. I just, I love you, Sybil. I love you so much.” Then Madelyn’s tongue was working at Sybil once more, running along her inner thighs, up and down her labia, encircling her clit, softly dipping inside her. With each slow trail her tongue drew, more of her anxieties evaporated, replaced by joy, lust, pleasure. Time and time again, Sybil had imagined this moment, countless nights she had pleasured herself to the conception of this moment. Nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of Madelyn. 

 

“Where the fuck did you learn how to do this so well?” Even if she wanted to, Sybil’s voice could not break a strained whisper. 

 

Madelyn raised her head. “I’ve had practice. I guess this is what all that practice was for.” Without another word, she resumed her little dance, darting her tongue up and down, around and around, in and out. 

 

“You can’t just—” a moan escaped her lips, “can’t just say something that trite in the middle of—” Madelyn certainly didn’t silence Sybil, but she was certainly rendered incapable of continuing. With a cocky little chuckle, her hot breath tickling Sybil’s sensitive flesh and mingling with her own heat, Madelyn pulled away once more. 

 

“I can, and I will.” Flashing a little grin, Madelyn gently nibbled Sybil’s lower lips, bringing a sharp gasp in place of any witty retort, then resumed. She continued with slow, but eager tenderness, keeping her lover’s pleasure at a gentle simmer. Sybil would gasp, she would writhe, she would moan, but it all felt so controlled, so soft, so safe. 

 

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Madelyn.” She whined between moans.

 

“I can’t say I’ve wanted it for nearly as long as you have, but, for what it’s worth, me too,” she replied in a brief pause between licks, then resumed. 

 

“I never imagined it could feel this good.” Each word sung with some rise or fall of the pleasure that radiated out from between her legs. 

 

“I’m glad, Sybil.” And her ministrations began again.

 

“Is it this good every time?” Her hips rolled against her lover to punctuate each word. 

 

“You’ll have to tell me.” There was a hint of amusement in her voice, but before Sybil could comment on it Madelyn’s tongue was back to task.

 

“But what about you?” 

 

Madelyn pulled away once more, her eyes fixing intently on Sybil’s, that amused twinkle shining in her eyes. “Sweetheart, I adore you. And don’t get me wrong, I could never get tired of your voice. But my tongue is a little busy right now, makes conversation kinda difficult. So, can we maybe save the questions for afterward? I prepped a ten minute time-slot at the end for just that.” The joke was lost on Sybil, Madelyn’s point, however, was not. She nodded. 

 

And this time, when Madelyn’s tongue returned, there was an intensity, an eagerness which had not made itself known until just then. Perhaps she was making up for lost time. Sybil had to bite back that quip, then her screams of pleasure did that for her. It was then she realized, Madelyn had just been warming her up, getting Sybil ready for the main event. Now, though, her tongue flicked across all her most sensitive places as though it knew Sybil and Sybil alone. The pleasure which Madelyn had so painstakingly built up for minutes on end was now rising within her like some long-dormant volcano now ready to erupt. At some point, Sybil had begun to knead her breasts and tweak her nipples as her hips needfully rolled against Madelyn. 

 

Her legs clenched, locking around Madelyn, hand coming down to grip her lovers hair as the feelings grew all the more intense. This feeling, at least, was familiar. The feeling of the pleasure building, rising to its highest peak. Sybil had brought herself there many times imagining one such moment as this, only, in those moments, the peak had never been so high, so rapturous. Her pants became gasps, gaps became moans, moans became screams, and, with nowhere left to go, her screams simply grew louder and louder as her body was consumed by pleasure, by Madelyn. And, just as Sybil became certain she could be taken no higher, it happened, and catapulted her upward to such unknown heights of raw, unrefined pleasure. Time crawled to a standstill, and Sybil soared. 

 

Then she was in Madelyn’s arms, head being pressed tightly to her lover’s naked breast. A hand was run through her hair, Sybil nuzzled into Madelyn, cooing softly. Her arms came to encompass the woman she loved, squeezing tightly as she relished in the moment. 

 

“It was good then, I take it?”

 

“Good,” Sybil croaked weakly.

 

“Good.” The smugness was back, Sybil decided she didn’t mind it one bit. “By the way, I’ve been thinking a lot ab—”

 

“You were thinking a lot while we had sex?” Sybil burst into a fit of giggles at her own stupid joke.

 

“Shut up.” Lightly, Madelyn nibbled on Sybil’s ear. She shivered in delight. “As I was saying. I’ve been thinking. Not just while we were having sex but also while I was running over here, and this has also just kind of been on autoplay in the background for a while if you know what I mean?”

 

“No I don’t”

 

“Right, we really need to give one-another a primer on slang.” Madelyn chuckled a little. “As I was saying, though, I’ve been thinking, and, I’m not really sure how much this is going to make sense to you, and I realize this might be a kind of random time to bring this up, but since we’re, y’know, together and all,” A big, dumb smile broke out across Madelyn’s face the moment she said that last part. “What feels like ages ago, you asked me if I felt like a woman. I didn’t really have an answer for you. But now I do, and it’s yes, mostly. This is a thing on Earth, but, I feel like I’m more mostly a woman than fully one. Like, eighty-twenty? Give or take another twenty or so depending on the day? It’s hard to put a number on it. I’m definitely not a guy, though. Just, sometimes not fully a woman either.” As she made her way further and further through her confession, Madelyn’s relaxed, carefree expression fell into something more serious, more apprehensive. Was that doubt creeping into her mind? Over what?

 

“Hey, you’re right that I don’t really get it. But do you have any idea just how many different kinds of beings, living or otherwise I’ve encountered during my life? I’m no stranger to the different. Woman, almost woman, usually woman, none of that makes much of a difference to me outside the ways it's important to you. You’re Madelyn, and you’re mine. That’s what matters.” To drive her point home, Sybil pressed another grateful kiss to her lover’s lips. The joy and relief radiating off Madelyn was palpable, and wonderful.

 

“You’re so amazing. But, just so you know, this doesn’t really change anything. The only thing is, I was hoping that, every once in a while you’d be okay referring to me as they or them instead of she or her? Especially when I’m in my, well, taller form? It’s okay if that’s too weird or something, I just...” Sybil wanted to find whoever had taught Madelyn to feel shame for these feelings and blast that person into tiny little pieces.

 

“Of course, my love.” And, like that, there was no more apprehension, only one another. “Do you want to go again, that was all about me, I want to make you feel good.”

 

“I think I’d like that,” Madelyn grinned, “but, um,” growing suddenly abashed, Madelyn blushed and looked away as their eyes screwed shut and her mass faded and shrunk, “I think I want to try it like this. I want to know what it’s like when I have, you know, this kind of equipment.” 

 

A hungry look crossed Sybil’s face. “Of course, my love. Now, be a good girl and lie on your back for me.” That line was familiar, like she knew it from one of her dreams, perhaps. Regardless, it had the desired effect. Neither would be getting out of bed anytime soon.