Long Live The Queen

SS41: "Long Live The Queen"

*****

This stars one of the married couples from the story "How To Wage A Wargasm": the Phelpses, Leyna and Cyndi. Some of it may not be for everyone—i.e., non-chess folk, so I tried to break it down for Readers who don't play. Feel free to skip the game segment if you don't like or get chess—I'm going to boldface all the moves if you wish to take this option—though there is nice action between the combatants leading up to post-play. Also, fun fact: this is the most times I've used English's least common letter, 'q,' in a story.

*****

Wednesday, May 7th, 2014, 5:45 p.m.

It was a lovely late spring afternoon. The days grew longer with each circadian span up to the solstice the following month. The outdoor air caressed citizens with a loving vernal kiss of 70°F, comparable to that of comfy building interiors.

Rush-hour traffic carried day workers at its more controlled pace. Some individuals adjourned straight home for a nice, well-deserved nap. Some greeted their families and started supper, or engaged in a recreational activity. Some hopped online to resume social networking and other cyber-play. Some stopped off at the store or the bar. Some nestled into the couch with a book or the remote control.

Financial planning wizard Leyna Iona Phelps was especially eager to arrive home this day, as she was expecting a very special package. She was so excited, it was all she could do to fling her cherry red Impala alongside the curb and seize the wieldy post from the mailbox. She ran to the stoop fast as she could in low heels, and gasped in glee to see the outside door propped open, by a large box just inside.

"Yay!" So jazzed was she by the arrival of this gift from herself to herself, Leyna fumbled with her keys, and dropped them. Once inside, she bounded the stairs with the box at a rate she'd have never achieved under normal circumstances. She placed it on the dining room table, dashed to find the scissors and cut it open. It'd be another hour or two till her beloved bride Cyndi'd come home. Ample time to play with the toy on her own first.

The package had been shipped priority from China, where the product inside was manufactured. She recognized the return address on the corner, and that was definitely hers right there in the center.

LEYNA PHELPS

1705 SILVER WILLOW AVENUE, GREEN PLAINS COUNTY

JUNIPER, MN 56049

Once she got it open, Leyna flipped up the flaps and fished into the sea of Styrofoam peanuts. They cascaded off as she lifted out the box within the box. The treasure was wrapped in a translucent foam sheet, but still through it, she could tell it was even more beautiful than the photo in the catalog.

It was a Renaissance glass and marble chess set. Imaginably, it cost a pretty penny, and Leyna was plenty proud of herself for getting her paws on it. It was an amazing find in collectors' circles due to its incredible rarity; less than a dozen sets were pressed. Leyna'd loved the game of chess since five, when her Dad taught her to play. Quick study that she was, by the age of six, she was already toppling him left and right. At seven, her folks began entering her in tournaments. As she closed in on birthday eight, she dethroned the Minnesota children's division champion to take the title herself.

Had she kept playing past nine, possibilities of a future in the game may have developed. But her interests shifted from year to year. She'd still play if her Dad or a friend fancied a match, but otherwise branched into different activities with each year. A part of her, however, had always and would always love the grand game. Her state trophy was still prominently displayed with their other valuables.

Lately she'd begun to get into it again. With the limitless venues of chessplay and other cerebral fitness available online, she'd never a shortage of worthy opponents. The game excited her, filling her to this day with the same childhood wonder she'd held—logically, as a child. Sometimes she imagined herself in medieval war, keeping watch over her double-queendom with her wife Cyndi, who'd go out and fight bravely for her honor. She didn't relish the idea of throwing Cyndi into the middle of the battleground rather than herself, but someone had to defend the monarchy. And frankly, things stood a much better chance under Cyndi's protection.

Cynthia Laurie Phelps—née Bieman—was a handywoman, one of the most proficient in town. She had to battle for leadership of her profession, but with Leyna's money-savvy finesse they made a very nice living. Fortunately, Cyndi wasn't on call past standard self-employed hours. So Leyna needn't worry about their evening disturbed by faulty wiring, leaky plumbing, or other shoddy work. Cyndi knew the basics of chess, but wasn't the maven her wife was. But had Cyndi also spent childhood with bishops and rooks, she would not have done so on the girls' swim team, there fostering her Sapphic sexuality.

Cyndi worked 8:00 to 6:00 Monday through Friday and 10:00 to 5:00 on Saturday. So like innumerable others, Sunday was hers to either kick back and relax or party hearty. Leyna put in a steady 9:00 to 5:00 each weekday—lunch generously included in her pay schedule—though the nature of her work sometimes involved bringing it home to finish. But her wife didn't mind. Leyna's career was just as vital to her as Cyndi's was to herself.

Both in their early 30s, Leyna and Cyndi were just barely high school sweeties, having first met just after graduation. Their folks ended up beside each other in the audience, become acquainted and been chatting in the lobby following the ceremony. When Leyna and Cyndi emerged to meet them, caps tossed, diplomas in hands, intros were made, and it was very nearly love at first sight.

Timing was fortuitous for such a fledgling romance, with the girls out of school and in constant summer contact. They threw all their interests and passions in a pot and whipped up a delectable cornucopia: Leyna's affinity for business, numbers, money, classical music and of course the game of chess, mixed with Cyndi's partiality to building and inventing things, gadgets, tools, technology, movies, cute girls...and hot, kinky sex.

Cyndi'd accumulated a rudimentary talent for chess, but again, held no candles to Leyna's. It mattered not; it wasn't as if they had their relationship on the gameplay line. They simply cherished sharing their lives. Their union was truly remarkable in that from the first they'd met and begun dating, they never looked back. They acquiesced that they were in fact soulmates, and vowed never to doubt or question it. They decided fate had chosen to bring them together, and would that it be thus, and so they bowed to its will.

Courtship was no less exciting. Their sporadicity of dates and hours together fluctuated once their 20s were underway, lives nourished by college, extracurricular activities and the ilk. A year passed, then another, another, and another still, but they refused allowing the relationship to get stale. Holding fast by the truth that they were fatemates enabled them to uphold the fresh, evergreen zeal. Going steady was such fun, virtually the whole of their 20s blew by in a whirlwind of delight. They felt as if perpetually holding hands at arms' length and spinning one another at dizzying speed, year after euphoric year.

It was somewhere near the Christmas of their thirtieth years, when Leyna determined something of a rebirth was being signified. A new beginning. And so on New Year's morning, she took her dear girlfriend by the hand—at the crack of dawn—and led her to the Andrewsville County Park. Where the chirping birds provided the soundtrack to their peaceful outing. And where Leyna proposed to her by the glow of the rising sun.

Cyndi had a feeling something was up when Leyna dragged her out of bed on this 38° morning, made her bundle up and stumble out to the car with her, but was too groggy to discern what. She was, however, awake enough to honor Leyna's wishes.

Leyna held her hand with a worked-out speech, fished into her jacket pocket, and lowered to her knee, prompting Cyndi to cover her mouth with a hushed gasp.

"...All this being said..." Leyna shivered, trying to suppress her sniffles till she was done. "...Cynthia Laurie Bieman...will you make us the two happiest women on Earth..."

She was fighting a losing battle with these tears. Wrap it up already! she told herself.

"...And be my wife??" she sobbed.

Cyndi'd never been one for trite clichés. But here was a case in which she positively welcomed them. She fell on her own knees right along.

"Oh, Leyna!" she cried, tears flying off her face courtesy of the New Year's winds. "Of course I will! Yes! Yes, my sweetheart, a million billion trillion times, yes!"

And one and a half years of blissful wedlock later, here they were.

If Leyna's and Cyndi's marriage wasn't perfect, it was impressively stellar. And one of the reasons was that they spent a disproportionate amount of time on it. Both went into the union optimistically, managed to avoid the big mistakes, and learned from the small ones. They thought of all sorts of things that could pop up and how to handle them, and made a pact to never go to bed angry. They had the benefits of Leyna's economic genius to help them financially, and Cyndi's handy paws for housework. So they virtually never had troubles with money or need to call a professional. On the contrary; they were those called upon to help others out of their jams. And it felt great to be able to help.

On this particular day, Cyndi'd been especially busy. She arrived home roughly an hour after her wife did, tossing open the door with a gigantic relieved sigh.

"OH!"

Leyna looked up with a jolly smile, just as she did each day when her wife came home. In strode Cyndi, dirty-blonde hair pasted to her forehead, face and neck. She aired out her wood-, paint- and sweat-stained plannel shirt, and unhooked her tool belt. "...Damn."

"Hello, beautiful!" Leyna popped up, prancing along to embrace her sweaty sweetie. "Happy to see your little wifey?"

Cyndi chuckled, lifting Leyna off the floor, making her giggle like a little girl.

"Even more than the inside of my own house!" she replied. "And my own shower."

"Ooh, that sounds good to me!" agreed Leyna. "May I please join?"

Cyndi pretended to have to think about it.

"Oh, I...think that could be arranged..."

"Wonderful..." Leyna purred. "And afterwards, there's something I'd like to show you."

"'Afterwards'?" questioned her wife. "You'll need to wait until afterwards to 'show' me this mysterious something?"

"Well, in this case, yes. I trust you'll approve."

*****

Wednesday, May 7th, 2014, 7:03 p.m.

Leyna and Cyndi Phelps were constantly in search of new and exciting ways to spice up their sex life. They knew it was one of the keys to a successful marriage. A few weeks before, they'd actually participated in a group sexhibition with another lesbian couple. It was not a foursome, but more a lovemaking competition, with a grand prize of $50,000.

The events of the evening were twofold. Their hostess, a smoking hot cougar named Sandra Burton, intro'd them to the crowd before whom they'd be "performing." They played Strip High Card, until Leyna and one half of the other couple—whose name was Judy—were completely nude. She and Judy were subsequently blindfolded, tied together hand and foot, back to back, and teased by their vibrator-wielding wives...to see which couple could produce orgasms of greatest quantity and most intense quality.

In the end, they came out even, till Judy and Leyna were too drained to handle any more. Cyndi and Leyna decided to do the noble thing and concede the cash prize to Judy and her wife Sam. The Phelpses did not need the money as much. Judy was a birthday clown and Sam a musician, professions that didn't quite stand toe-to-toe with a financial planner and a handywoman. Besides, the experience alone sufficed for Cyndi and Leyna. They were in it for the pure fun and adventure.

Leyna learned a few things about herself that fateful evening. She did not enjoy being the first person to shed her clothing. But when Sandra tied her and Judy up together, Leyna and Cyndi both became more than a trifle turned on. Cyndi and Sam were not allowed to touch each other's naked wives, but the lot of them exchanged honeyed pleasantries as they adjourned outside and hugged goodbye for the night.

Neither of the Phelpses would admit readiness for an outright three( or four)some. But they agreed if one day they were, it would have to be totally consensual, between them and their third (or fourth) party. And one condition on which they stood firm was that both must be involved. Otherwise, the act was nothing more than patent infidelity.

Another thing Leyna discovered at her wife's disposal, was that as much as it lit her on fire, she had only been on the receiving end. And found herself very much wishing to be on the other side. She could only fantasize how the scenario'd play out were it she slapping the restraints on her helpless wife's extremities, Cyndi begging and pleading her for sweet release. The prospect fascinated her past words. While not every idea to sizzle things up was a blockbuster, Leyna was pretty certain she had a good one here.

But how to present? She wanted a method of bringing this up to Cyndi as a surprise of sorts. Not simply to come out and say, "I wanna dominate you this time, honey, and make you beg me for mercy." After this self-realization, Leyna spent several days on an adamant, and memorable way to broach the proposition to her beautiful bride. And just a few days after May arrived...she'd found it.

But first she definitely wanted to shower with her.

Cyndi's dirty day clothes kept company with a bath towel on the laundry room floor, while Leyna's lined the path to the mistress bathroom. Cyndi started the shower as Leyna admired from behind.

"Mmm...y'know, there's just something about a wildly hot sweaty lady in uniform that makes me go crazy," Leyna teased, tickling Cyndi's spine with a single fingertip.

Water and wife turned on, Cyndi flipped around and seized her love dove in her arms, searing her lips with a kiss.

"I'll alert the asylum," she whispered back.

Leyna went faint in her embrace. "Be still, my swooning heart," she cooed.

Cyndi grinned at her. "You think you're swooning now..."

Again, she hoisted Leyna into the air and spun her 360° like a Disney princess. Leyna melted. Even as her quivering toes touched carpet again, it felt as if she were floating.

"Oh!" she exulted, face to Cyndi's sternum. "Heaven help me, you're magnificent!"

"Why, how enchanting," Cyndi rejoined. "Now tell me something I don't know."

As the spray heated and steam began to generate, Cyndi took Leyna by the hand, and all four feet ascended over the edge, crossing the invisible portal, into the Promised Sea.

"I'm gonna scrub your sweet ass till you're raw," Cyndi announced. "Just so you're aware. And that, my friend, is a promise."

Leyna grinned. "I'd have it no other way."

They settled in, drawing the curtain behind and allowing their bodies to acclimate. They cuddled, cupping, fondling, grazing patches of soft, ripe flesh. Tender kisses ensued. Loving moans found way into the steamy atmosphere. Cyndi held her hand under the nozzle until a small pool collected in her palm, held it up and sprinkled it over Leyna's head. Leyna collected a pawful and splashed Cyndi.

"Now, now, we shan't have that," Cyndi chided, the authority in her voice compromised by water in her nose and mouth. Her words came out adorably garbled. Ignoring her hollow scolding, Leyna placed both palms on her honey's face and laid the most intently romantic kiss of the evening thus far. Cyndi proceeded accordingly, and twenty fingers roamed and roved in aimless patterns, about their assigned hot, wet, curvaceous figures.

The kiss lasted, stiffening all four nipples and warming their bodies below torso level as well. When it was over, Leyna smiled, reaching down to whap Cyndi on the ass.

"You were saying, sweetie?"

Leyna was a petite, gentle woman, tinier and smaller than her wife, and yet Cyndi could be astonishingly disarmed by her passion.

"Uh...I forget."

"That's what I thought. Big talk for a bare-naked venus in my shower."

Cyndi picked up Leyna's shampoo bottle. "Well, let's get down to business, shall we..."

She lathered her hands and massaged through Leyna's flaxen hair. It felt so lovely, Leyna let her eyes flutter and emit a soundless groan. When finished, Cyndi placed her under the spray, and it was Leyna's turn to do her. Cyndi's preferred brand was Herbal Essences, as they resulted in a series of glorious hairgasms, similar to the ad campaign.

"God, Leyna," Cyndi gushed, trails of bubbles foaming her face. "I love you so much."

When Leyna's hair was rinsed out and Cyndi's was ready, they switched places. They followed the same pattern. Soon, both were shampooed, conditioned, and ready to migrate south. Again, Cyndi performed the honors on Leyna first, squirting out some body wash and rubbing it in good and thorough.

Both were becoming very, very aroused. Cyndi lathered Leyna all over the torso and back, deliberately leaving her breasts for precious last. Solely to torment her, as she knew it drove Leyna insane. In a good way. The way she liked. Leyna tried to maneuver her body around, steering Cyndi towards her fragile boobs, wanting so badly to be touched...but Cyndi always managed to elude them, until only she was ready.

"Ohhh, you're so mean when you do that," Leyna would whine.

"I plead to differ," Cyndi'd contradict with a self-satisfied smile. "This way, I know you'll always continue wanting me." She left out the implied "This is how I keep you in check," which Leyna understood. Needless to say, when Cyndi finally slathered her heaving, burning tits in glistening wash, it felt as if an eternity had passed. Which was not to say it wasn't worth it. Leyna gleefully giggled and purred. It got no better than this.

Again, Leyna held her hands at arms' length to wash Cyndi once it was her turn. Leyna's technique was more intimate. She stood behind Cyndi, arms around her, gliding her soapy paws from chin to belly and back up. She leaned in, dotting her shimmering skin with warm, wet kisses. Cyndi pressed her palms against the tile wall to hold steady. Leyna's touch too made her shiver, even in the hot shower. When Cyndi about-faced, they attached lips, closed their eyes, and Leyna's hands slipped and slid along her wife's arching back, dripping bubbles and suds down her lovely ass.

Finally, they set about to bathing one another's nethers. Once more, Cyndi'd do Leyna first. This was why Cyndi'd decided to install an extra strong, sturdy rack to the shower wall. It was not at all for towels, but their own balance. She deduced the faux pas most shower couples made involved a rack with insufficient support, leading to undesirable results. When she installed theirs, they covered the floor with no-slip pads, grasped the rack together and pulled as hard as they could. It held. It was more than durable enough for two women with a collective body weight of 240 pounds.

Their only task now was to make sure their hands didn't slip from it. Leyna shook hers semi-dry, fastened her grip and lifted one dripping size eight foot from the sudsy water. She kindly requested Cyndi be gentle and careful with her feet. Cyndi's feet were ticklish, but not quite so much as Leyna's. And as much as Cyndi loved the sound of her bride's bubbly laughter, they could tickle-play anytime and anywhere safer than the shower.