Sculpted Lines

Abigail Booth had always found rainstorms to be such a contradiction. This temperate morning she felt no differently while leaning against the stonework sill of one of her studio's windows. Warm morning sunlight was amplified by wavy glass, easily worming through the thin and lazily buttoned white men's shirt she wore. It caressed her dusky skin, leaving a tingle across the surface, before saturating flesh. Outside, and along the pane as well, the world was still moist and dripping. Mankind unerringly had always seen rain as a cleansing force but in the yard bird's nests were destroyed, branches torn and cast to the ground. The town would be awash with mud puddles and soaked clothing. Still she liked the rain even if all the thunder and lightning last night had kept her up shaking furiously in her bed wishing that...

She bit down on her lower lip before trying to drown the want of Eddie holding firm in her psyche. Such thoughts weren't proper after all. They were only distantly related but that wasn't the point. Pushing away from the window her long legs were comfortable in baggy grey sweats. Bedroom attire was just as good to sculpt in as it was to sleep in. After finishing off her tea she looked up to the ceiling and considered checking on Eddie as several of the breakers had to be thrown back over this morning. However she had accepted that her kin and flat mate was a late sleeper. Abby on the other hand adored the caress of the rising sun as much of his accidental brushes of fingers now and again. After a huff she set her tea cup down and gave the bust she did of Uncle Alfred a frumpy look. She's just gotten over her crush on the Wolsey boy! There was no reason to project that need onto another.

She gave the old man's face of marble a light nose flick. "It's his fault for being cute."

In truth she meant both Eddie and Locke Wolsey. After a puff to vent a curl of sexual frustration she washed her gaze over the studio. It had once been the manor's dining room long before glory faded along with color from the stone of its walls. Mother and Father had indulged her, just as they always had, allowing the tables to be moved out, cloth drapes to be hung here and there on the walls and all across the floor. Within the first hour of her casting the room pure and white she'd stained a good portion of the left corner with red clay. Art after all was a messy business.

"What are we going to work on today, Abby?" She asked herself. Over in one corner there were stacked canvases, paints, brushes. Near the middle of the room a few blocks of softer stone and chisels. One table had stored away watercolors atop it and wood burning tools tucked underneath. The exotic Englishwoman had been blessed with talent but cursed with a distinct lack of focus. Part of the reason, Abby suspected, that her parents had given her the old manor all to herself during college while they lived in London was because they didn't want to put up with the chaos that always followed her artistic fits.

Eyes rested on potter's wheel and the five gallon bucket beside it and she nodded to herself. Moving across the room with smooth steps and a swish of slim hips despite the fact no one was there to watch Abby snatched up a ribbon along the way. Cascades of dark hair were tied up haphazardly to be out of the way. Working with clay would give her hands something to do other than aching for a real sensual touch. Drum was popped open and the earthy smell made her grin. Some innocent stimulating action was exactly what was in order. After prepping a basin of water as well she curled her fingers into the clay within the bucket, feeling its slickness oozing between. Abby let her head hang and eyes close, waiting to see what the clay would be. Instead her mind's eye filled with what she'd done to herself in that warm bath last night thinking of first the class model, then of being under Eddie's weight.

Her neck flushed and she cleared her throat stiffly. Why the hell did she have sex on the brain this morning? She'd woken up with soaked sweats and hot want remained curled against her lungs ever since. There was just something in the air but what it was; that the lady of the manor couldn't put her finger on. Right now she was trying to keep her fingers busy instead of them using to relieve her mood. Clearing her throat again she pulled out one hunk of clay and plopped it on wetted wheel and then another. Her hands caressed along the awkward curves of each as they began to spin. After dabbing her fingers in fresh water she worked on kneading the two lumps together like lovers melting into one another in the heat of night.

The clay was cool against her palms, soothing in a way. After strong mixing motions of her she rolled her hands along the side, cupping at the wet earth. Palms applied just enough pressure, just the right way, to build up a hard column. Her shoulders shifted and mouth dried at the sensation of it stiffening for her, taking shape, the warm and sticky fluid running over the back of her knuckles. A hot breath shivered its way out and she closed her eyes. Hands glided up and down in slow strokes encouraging more of the water to flow and for clay to grow tall and straight. Her breath shuddered once and a thumb hooked to quietly give the vase a crown. A low laugh bubbled from her.

"This isn't helping at all." She muttered as her skin grew taunt with daydreamed desire and gaze raked over the rather phallic thing she was working on. Eyes fluttered once more as she purposely started forming something closer to the head of manhood before they lifted to look over at the classic eye and tail ticking black kitty clock on the far wall. Part of her knew that the only other living soul in the house, Eddie, wasn't going to be up for at least another hour. Sucking her lip in a bit deeper Abby breastbone to chin flushed with shamed desire. Yes there was something in the air today. While one hand brushed over the head of that clay cock the other left and shakily worked open the first three buttons of her shirt.

It was just going to be better if she gave in.

Breasts ripened by twenty something years were already begging to be touched. She grazed fingers along breastbone before moving over the inner round of her left breast, tugging blunted nails over skin. It wasn't long before slick fingers forwent any sort of delayed gratification and rolled over the side of pebbled nipple. Like any modern woman Abby knew exactly how to touch herself and take care of these moods. Masturbation after all was completely safe. Fingers slid down the rippling shaft as she worked at firmly rolling that sweet bud. Squeezing she groaned as shots of lust bolted from tit down to tickle across the walls of her sex.

"Ah." Hot breath flowed out of Abby's mouth as her head tilted back and a few strands of hair snaked loose. It was nothing compared to the way liquid want slithered along her thighs. For some reason she'd forwent under things today, the art student's mind was just not in the right place. Firmly her hand pumped at the faux phallus as she continued to work at her chest. Hand flattened spreading red clay all the way across the globe of flesh. Abby kneaded it in the same strong motion as she had the wet earth. Becoming hips made small little rolls. As she whimpered her hand on the wheel squeezed as she would a lover's member but it was a bit too much for the growing sculpture. It buckled in the middle, falling over her hand before curling back into two misshapen lumps now. Abby didn't care. It just freed up her hand to... to do what? Her chest vibrated with a giggle. Oh she'd have to clean her hand off before doing anything downstairs. Did men run into this problem? Still unable to stop quaking from intense desire the sculptor managed to flick off the wheel but just barely.

"You must be, Abby." The voice curled at the back of the Englishwoman with Indian accents lust hazed mind for just a moment, tugging at primal threads before she remembered that she should be startled. Her spine went rigid and hand on chest stilled with embarrassment.

"Who?" Strangled like a trapped rabbit Abby looked over her shoulder and to the rather maturely curved woman lounging on one of the studio's French doors. This sable haired temptress wore only Eddie's New York Jets jersey and a smirk. "What..."

"Sorry." Pi's cheeks rounded with pleasant humor and her lips pursed with hunger. It was an easy recline she'd struck up. Long smooth legs from mid-thigh and down ached to be seen with their milky white skin and cute little toes. Full bust took in long breaths now that would lift the jersey hem enough to assure she'd show her all to anyone looking.

Even with sex, sleep rumpled hair and minimal clothing this erotic woman oozed poise and for a moment Abby couldn't keep her mind off those defining lines. Then she recalled where one hand was and quickly pulled her shirt closed. "Who are you and what are you doing in my home?"

A throaty chuckle curled out of the succubus as she made an apologetic face. Off of the door she stepped, hips rolling and long legs placed one in front of the other. It was a slow grind of pale thighs all the way over to where Abby sat. "Edward let me in. I'm mm, a tutor of his."

Lifting her chin as only one with good blood could Abby tried to skewer the vixen with a look. She faltered and failed when the intense narrowing of eyes and adjustment of her exotic features made Pi's full lips break with taken sigh. "I... I have to say I've never seen a tutor dressed like this."

"Oh. I can explain that." Pi didn't however. Instead once she was close she leaned in quietly setting her hands down on either side of the stool and making a low purr roll in the back of her throat. Oh yes this Abby of Eddie's was a tasty treat. Her tongue craved to brush over dusky flesh, especially after she scented the other woman's arousal.

"Then please do." After trying to turn her decadent brown eyes away and finding she could not Abby' s breath hitched. Her legs curled against one another, thighs rubbing. The hunger wasn't washing away from embarrassment like it should but rather kept growing. It felt like lying naked under the summer sun, being so close to this woman. Eyes finally moved but it was to look down the hanging front of the jersey. No woman should have a rack like that unless she invested a lot of money and surgical hours in it. "I... I think."

Impulsively to try and break the ice Pi darted her head in and what started as a brush soon turned into a suckle at Abby's plush lower lip. That was followed by a slow rake of teeth over the flesh that made the mortal woman moan. She was even so kind to balm bruised lip with an unhurried drag of pink tongue. "Very nice."

Abby's heart beat so hard she was sure that the other woman could hear it. Yes, she'd felt physical attraction to women now and again but never like this. It was always assumed it was nothing more than the decadent digital age and the fact that she was a college aged girl that stoked such feelings- experimentation and all that. However she found herself chasing after that hot breath and tongue reaching out to taste once more. "Thank you?"

Pi chuckled. Her tongue was more than willing to come back out and play with the other woman's. Living in this house was going to be doubly pleasurable after all! Tilting away she shuddered out a breath before giving Abby a rather intent look as she pulled open the woman's shirt. Never turning away from the claim on the mortal's eyes Pi smoothed her hands over both breasts with a slow brush of soft palms. Blindly she felt out the under curve before tenderly cupping their outer rounds. "No, thank you."

"I..." Cheeks and throat flushing Abby realized her nipples had never softened. She blinked heavy and reached out to do the same to Pi's covered chest. It felt nice to knead at soft globes of flesh that weren't hers. Excitement strengthened away from just being a mere trickle against her thighs.

"Shh." Pi's face dipped lower, lips plucking sweetly at the line of Abby's neck before she nibbled as lightly as a woman might on a candy bar she wanted to savor after a long hard day. "Oh I like how this one is all slippery but I'm sure the graininess is a nice thing." She gathered up a thin layer of watery clay and used it to tease Abby's dark areola.

"Nice, a lot nice." The Englishman stumbled over her words. Her rougher hands bunched cloth and in instinct she inched Pi's jersey up. As with her male counterpart Ms. Booth wasn't listening to her rational mind any more. It wasn't her fault, lust demons just tended to have that affect on people. A groan percolated its way out of her.

"Good." Glossing hands along the top of Abby's breasts Pi's French manicure curved to drag along pronounced clavicles. The shirt was pushed from the sculptor's shoulders in time with the demoness' lips moving away. She bit along the top of their stately shapes and made hot little curls of breath. Cool air danced over the demoness' released bust and it made her intoxication turn audible but not as much as feeling Abby's hands innocently puzzling out how to touch another woman's breasts. It was different than having a man fondling them for every woman had some basic idea of how to make herself feel good. Pushing the shirt until it pooled around Abby's waist Pi let out a wicked chuckle.

"What?" Daring now that she felt emboldened by plainly making this mysterious tutor shiver with want by mere caress Abby gravitated to Pi's neck and lapped salt from it. Oh... it was like licking crystals from the edge of a margarita's glass. She curled her tongue on itself. Lord above was she actually doing this? Pi's laugh made her giggle lightly, or maybe it was the euphoria of foreplay.

Leaning in forcefully so Abby had to move her hands Pi pressed her chest against the artist's, nipples glancing off of one another. Both women gasped. As the succubus tilted away she had a nice handful of clay and let it push out through her fingers. After giving a naughty look she pressed it against Abby's breastbone before finger painting it across breasts. Abby let her head fall back and whimpered in pleasure, hands curling over Pi's to encourage and guide. This had just gone off the erotic deep end. Abby expected soft core porn jazz to start up any moment.

"What's your name?" It was asked even as the Englishwoman's lips wanted to taste this tutor's tongue again. She was definitely being taught right now. Art calloused fingers walked along Pi's arms, noting how well sculpted they were.

"Pi." Just a simple wisp of indulgence was put behind the name. Her hands dipped toward one another, damp earth rolling against palms. Then down she drove a fresh line to Abby's twitching stomach. The demoness' head tilted to the side so more neck could be surrendered to the human girl. From following stomach all the way down to waistband it was clear that Abby had the sort of toned and youth body that made woman that held Pi's full shape froth and snipe when she walked by. Pi didn't mind because right now it was hers to mold.

Something odd happened though after Abby took the lobe of Pi's ear into her mouth, suckled wetly, then raked teeth before letting go. In that moment she realized that the last chance for this to stop had come and there wouldn't be another gas station as it were until the deed was done. Worry spread from the core of her chest. "Eddie's not going to mind is he?"

"I don't think so." Approval rippled from Pi because of the cousin's consideration. What a rare breed these two were turning out to be. That and Abby had gathered some clay from her stomach and caressed it along across Pi's chest. "Do you mmm, mind?"

Abby merely squeaked out a sound before curling closer to Pi, pushing hands to the woman's soft sides. There was definitely something erotic about having more than firm muscle and bone. As the mortal leaned away she stripped Pi's shirt off of her. In turn the tutor gave her chest a jiggle and thrummed low and smoky once more. A long hot kiss was shared, becoming noses sliding against one another. Steamy breath mixed, tongues flicked, teeth scratched, lips pulled and sucked. Both women now felt over one another's nude skin leaving streaks of dirt with them. The sensation left behind was stimulating, so very different, even for an accomplished seductress like Pi.

As she urged Abby to lay back into the inert wheel Pi's hands snaked along the other woman's sides before urging her to lift hips. Well managed nails teased under sweat's waistband. Abby hissed out because the cool mud conformed under her spine, spreading all the way down to tickle at her tail bone. She'd never imagined that messy sex would be so invigorating, nor did she imagine she'd ever be so messy at her apex for another woman. In fact due to the dripping state of her pert folds Abby pressed her legs together while Pi tossed stripped pants to the side. Knees rubbed close with nervous and wanton energy.

"Oh fooey." Out swelled lower lip popped on Pi's flushed features. Hair had fallen down to frame pale face in such a licentious way. She'd cleaned her fingers as best she could on Abby's sweats and now wiggled them with the urge to get them dirty once more. Reaching out she rather solidly took control of the English woman's knees, holding the insides of them and giving a small urging. "What do you like to call it? What's your favorite vulgarity for your own sex?"

Turning her head to the side as clay bled along the bottom of shoulder blades Abby sucked on her own cheek for a moment. "Cunny."

"Ooo." With a satisfied sigh Pi pressed her lips down to one knee before licking at its boney outer edge. "Abigail. Show me your cunny."

Chest rolled with lusty breath as Abby's hair came loose. She considered the request and then felt Pi trying to force her legs apart anew. Turning to meet eyes with the teacher once more she felt herself reflexively grip at the round stone edge of the table she was on. "Tell me again."

"Show me your cunny." Not breaking eye contact Pi's lips curved up even as she trailed teeth along the bottom of knee. "Please, Abigail. I need to see your cunny."

This time when Pi prompted the artist spread her thighs with a slow sensual motion and flushed fully with a deep rooted quiver when Pi's dark eyes finally escaped the well of her own. They clearly settled on her glistening peach and sparked with appreciation. One hand left those rather elegant knees and skimmed along the undeniable softness of Abby's inner thigh. Tasting her own lips like an eager cat Pi leaned in between those long twilight legs watching hips twitch with prize in the middle. Sensitively she judged the weight and shape of Abby's womanhood with a full fondling. Successively Abby lifted her body with a hot sigh and pressed into that wonderful hand and begged with whimpers for more. Pi's ring finger swept into her parting, gathering up sticky bliss before pressing pad against the woman's clit.

Abby's reaction and cry of excitement was immediate. Her lips broke with a sharp sound caused Pi to continue the sweet torture, handling the feminine pearl in a commanding manner. The succubus used not only the edge of her nail to stoke Abby's desire bit pushed in small tense circles. Every woman had a different pattern that drove her fires to burn bright. Part of the joy of lesbian sex Pi had found was the adventure of finding out what her partner liked. Abby let go of the wheel with one hand before applying its tight grip to one of her own breast, panting as she played and tugged at her nipple. A fresh whimper rolled out as Pi tasted along her hip bone. The human's other hand left its perch to mesh into the demoness' rich head of hair and tangled, encouragingly. Not that Pi needed to be encouraged!

Once her prey's hips were moving in slow telling circles Pi slipped forefinger along to caress along the mouth of Abby's entrance and purred against soft skin as more primal sounds dripped out of Abby. She was plainly what one might call a screamer and really they were the best. Nuzzling every closer down the slope of hip Pi's face finally took the plunge and warming tongue brushed at her fingers and the sweet little cunny. Now that was a taste she'd missed as much as cock. Wet muscle flicked at clit a few times as Abby's thighs embraced her head and clearly wanted to hold her there. The sculptor's fingers demanded Pi's face, breath and tongue stayed just where they were.