Posted by red on May 20th, 2008 in Girl Sex, Kink

Minerva has this presence about her – a smile that radiates from deep within. We talk about so much, but what really charms me is how she speaks so softly and so articulately about queer and poly issues. It’s like a breath of fresh air, and I constantly find myself having to remember that we’re not the only people in the room as we feverishly discuss the ins and outs of non monogamy. When we speak, her eyes search deeply into mine, probing for something. Sometimes I wonder what exactly she seeks; sometimes I wonder if its there within me to find. Mostly, however, I just hope that she’ll laugh and smile some more, letting me enjoy the sunshine of her warmth for just a little bit longer.

The party is busy and I’ve been a busy girl. For a moment I am enjoying sitting on the sidelines and taking in the hotness around me. Great scenes pepper the room, but I am mostly captivated by a school girl in the corner being single tailed by a priest. They’re playing a game that looks like “I dare you”, with the schoolgirl standing defiantly and tall against the cracking of the whip. I find myself reflecting on the skill involved with having such precise aim, and in standing so tall despite the teeth rattling snaps jolting through the air. Minerva sidles up to my and touches my arm with her hand – soft and delicate and warm. I reach out to her and pull her into my arms, enjoying the decadence of the hug and the mellowness of the moment.

After a while, I start to get that itch – the feeling like I’ve watched enough and that it’s now time to play. I ask Minerva if she’s ready – she agrees quickly, and then without hesitation opens the floor to negotiation. She’d like to try a few needles, and its OK to zap her with my little shocking toy. Oh and yes please to dildo play…

Who could say no to that?

I glance around the room. There’s, um, not much available. I feel a moment of Top-doubt – damnit all I should be able to make something work – there’s GOT to be a place to play. And then I spot it. A simple metal lunchroom chair – the kind with a black padded seat and no armrests. No frills, no nothing – but its in a spot in a little corner, and there’s room there. And besides, there is a big floor spotlight, shining right at it. Maybe that doesn’t sound sexy – but it is. Poo poo to dim lights and complicated apparatus – simple plus spotlight makes sexy.

She sits before me and I eye her, watching her body language while I think about how I want to be positioned. I tell her to spread her legs; I tell her to remove her top. She complies, throwing her shoulders back proudly while leaning forward and smiling shyly. Minerva isn’t much of an exhibitionist, and I enjoy watching her internal conflict – shyness versus desire. She asks if my knees will be alright if I kneel on the floor, and implores me to use a towel for cushioning. Its very cute and I comply, retrieving my towel from my bag as well as the assortment of objects I intend to use. I work slowly, letting her watch as I set out the box of needles, my small zapping toy and a black dildo alongside condoms, gloves, paper towel, alcohol swabs and a sharps container. When I am set, I level my eyes onto her and ask the all important question.

“Are you ready?”

She’s relaxed now, her focus is on me and what my hands are doing. I caress her skin – it is soft and supple, curving pleasantly across her lightly heaving chest. My fingers find her nipples, squeezing gently but with purpose, gauging the level of her response. Calibration, so to speak.

I tell her where I will be placing the needles, pointing at a spot on her right breast, more towards the middle – there – and her left breast – there. She grins the grin of a bottom who is eager to experience, her eyelids already growing heavy and smoky-mysterious. I pull on gloves and rip open an alcohol swab, rubbing it on the areas I’ve just identified, then blowing ever so gently so that she feels the cool of it evaporating on her skin. I unsheathe the first needle – it is longer than most, 2 inches in fact, and capped with a green barrel. I note the direction of the pointed end and lightly trace it along that spot, a deliberate foreshadow of exactly where it will be placed. As the point leaves a small red line in its wake she inhales, sharply. I tell her how lovely it looks, a red highlight against her mocha flesh, and she smiles that wonderful smile. I tell her to breathe with me as I count to three, letting the needle continue to swipe along that spot.

One…inhale…swipe…exhale….two…inhale…swipe…exhale…three…inhale…swipe…

As she exhales with me, I let the tip of the needle find a space in her skin, and I decisively push it through, just below the surface. It finds a path, parting her flesh while making room for its hard metal shaft. I coax it out again, and it breaks the surface in triumph, its reappearance announced by a moan from her and a sigh from me. She looks at me, eyes gazing deep into mine. They’re searching for something, still, but I notice a glassiness that wasn’t there before. I ask if she’s alright, and she gives me an enthusiastic yes, so I pull the next needle out from its package, unsheathe it, and hold it up at the ready.

I take care to draw the process out, to avoid moving too fast as I repeat the motions with the swiping, the breathing, the red scratching. She’s much more involved with the second needle, her eyes watch it intently – whereas with the first one she chose to close them gently. Her inhalation sharpens as I push this second needle into her flesh and along its path. When it reappears again, the moan she lets out is deep and soulful, resonating from her core and into mine.

I look at her, and she at me. “Do more.” She says. “Please…”

Folks, my apologies but I had to split this post into two. I had intended to post it as two but for some reason I didn’t. It was late, I was fried from a day of neo citron. These things happen. I’m sure you’ll forgive me.