MARBLE & SALT (Lesbian)

Chapter 1 (Part 1) THAT'S NOT A JAZZ CLUB, BUT DEFINITELY A PSYCHO WARD!

NB! The chapter features mature content

What will you do if your secret sexual fantasy, you were afraid to dream of, comes true?

What if the curtain opens to you, leading to a new brave world, which was so close, but you could not touch it?

Will you agree to accept new rules?

What if reckoning follows pleasure? Are you ready to pay for your feelings?

What if witches are hiding very close to your body and soul, ready to kill you? But there is nothing you can do about it, because you have fallen head over heels in love with one of them, the most dangerous.

~~~

"Don't... Please stop..." I let out a dull moan again, not recognizing my own voice and being surprised by it. Her soft and slightly moist lips are lightly touching my neck, collarbone, cheekbone... She seems to deliberately avoid kissing my lips (maybe that's for the best). At this time, the girl's hands are impudently examining my naked body under a thin summer dress, which has already been pulled up almost to my breasts. I can feel the cold touch of the mirror, to which I am practically pinned by her body. "Stop it," I mumble between breaths. "I can't do this... I never... Please..."

"No, you can, calm down," she grins, raising her black eyebrow, looking at me with her eyes cold as marble. I want to put my hands between us, push her away, but she abruptly grabs my wrists and presses them roughly against the darkness of the mirror above my head. I moan, not in pain, but rather in fear of her power. Marble eyes do not leave me, they hypnotize me, make me weak-willed and obedient. How embarrassing! She stops touching me with her lips, and it seems to me that the sweet torture is finally over, but she slowly raises her sharp knee, pushing my legs apart, pressing against my crotch.

***

~ A few hours ago ~

***

"Did you comb your hair?"

"What?"

"I asked if you would like me to comb your hair or are you going out like this?"

I lift my head from the windowsill. It seems to me that I dozed off a little while waiting for my neighbor (and, in addition to her other duties, my best friend). I was already getting a little nauseous from the shiny "jugs" in my smartphone app, which I have been senselessly moving for the sake of getting no less meaningless three stars. So I just idly stared out the window just like an old lady, watching swifts that were sweeping and dashing over the roofs of houses with a cheerful, invigorating whistle, dangerously close to the wires that enveloped the evening sky like an iron spider web. While I was watching flora and fauna of my neighborhood, Dasha, with her inherent bestial enthusiasm, was putting on a bit of spit and polish for the upcoming "cultural" appearance in the jazz club.

"Look, maybe I'll just stay at home today. I'm a little tired..." The prospect of going to a club and suffering in a corner while my friend is briskly "marking her territory" did not please me at all.

"Tired of what? Do your buns hurt from constant seating in front of the computer? Hear the wisdom, girl: if your buns happen to hurt let them hurt from something more pleasant than your chair. Come on!" In a familiar way she twists my hair on her finger and lets it go, admiring the "wave" like a handsome gay stylist from American movies. "Take off this nun's cassock, after all! Date someone. Arthur said that a couple of his friends should come to the club too."

I sigh. As if that wasn't enough...

"There, there! Enough sighing for today for in a blink of an eye you'll be in your forties, and you'll live with a crowd of kitties."