Scratched Out Heart

Angelique sagged, spent. The gun clattered to rock. Then she sprang to life, spun in Kimiko's arms and rammed a kiss to her with her entire body, her tongue ram-raiding her mouth, her hips shoving at Kimiko's as if to get in there too.

Overwhelmed, Kimiko still tried to hold the woman safely, for some reason. The last dregs of duty bleated in her head, even while her tongue rolled at Angelique's and the woman panted and sucked it, wrapping both arms around Kimiko's neck. Meanwhile they curled hungry hips together, seeking firm places to push tingling mounds; Angelique in a belly-dancers roll, Kimiko with a simple needy shove, gripping Angelique's buttocks to pull her harder.

Then Angelique dropped kisses over her breasts again, this time those famous fat, curly lips attacked them, plucking lippy nips. Each kiss a bullet to Kimiko's resolve. Hands that should push away, gripped closer. Instead of warning, she murmured, "Yes."

Angelique's tongue flickered at Kimiko's nipples as if to tease her clamouring clit and in breathless moments Angelique was on her knees. Kimiko didn't cover herself, she dug her fingers in the woman's hair, lost in her hunger, and in the hungry eyes of vogue magazine's perennially most desirable woman who shoved her mouth into Kimiko's swollen heat.

Kimiko whined and her legs shook. All safety catches flipped, her clit a hair trigger. Beneath, a slippery probe, sliding up over her clit, had her shaking so hard Angelique had to grip Kimiko's bottom steady. Angelique paused to lick away strung juices, then nuzzled her tongue deep again, humming.

Kimiko had never been licked by anyone before, let alone a woman of Angelique's skill and experience. And the woman was feasting, her lips and chin a slobbery mess of arousal, nuzzling her head right underneath and twisting, so Kimiko had to spread her feet indecently wide and bend over, bracing hands on thighs.

Angelique was reclined below her, knees Bambied and fingers back at her own clit. That would not do. Kimiko rocked her hips at Angelique's face, pushing her onto her back and - at last - curled over the woman's smooth, plump sex.

When Kimiko pressed her mouth between Angelique's legs, and slipped her open with her tongue, Angelique moaned and Kimiko's hole spasmed in response. The woman overflowed Kimiko's tongue in a single lick, a silkily illicit delight that reminded her of the best times with her husband. But where he tasted brackish, Angelique was sweet spring water. The woman pulsed inside, and muttered into Kimiko's hole, "Gonna... cum..."

Whether this was a command or a proclamation was unclear. Kimiko opened Angelique up wide and put her slick tongue to work anyway. Then she was lost.

She melted. Into Angelique's yielding, liquid sex, into her mouth. Fingers melted into holes. The barrier of her skin dissolved. All that remained was a sense of probing and sucking, a push and pull, fluttering tongues syncopating the tide of their climax, swelling it and dipping it and swelling it even larger. The urge to burst and flood overwhelmed her, but she fought it, waiting for Angelique.

When the woman suddenly juddered beneath her, Kimiko was already trembling, rigid with the effort of holding on. Her tongue quivered uncontrollably, whimpering into Angelique's tender flesh, begging it for their release. Until even that was impossible. Until they both fused solid.

One beat of perfect still.

Then the tsunami. The entire universe sucked up into a rolling wave of glittering stars, crashing over them. They gripped each other's hips like life-preservers, lips suckered in place. Screams, swallowed up by greedy sexes, muffled to frantic hums. Kimiko screwed shut her eyes. Hung on. They tumbled over and over, into each other, out of each other, whirling through the sky...

Kimiko flopped onto Angelique's cackling body. Only after a few giddy seconds did she realise she was laughing too. Relishing the last quivers of their orgasm, she watched the woman's sex clench beneath her, hidden tremors pursing engorged lips. She flicked licks at the trail of juices glistening in the sunlight as they guttered down her bottom cleft. Meanwhile Angelique pecked slimy kisses over her inner thighs, and blew cool air on hot folds.

Kimiko rolled off, admiring Angelique's post-coital slinkiness while they let their bodies calm in the breeze. She felt turned inside out. No. Blossomed.

"Goodness," Angelique said. "That was a biggie." She shuffled over to lie her head on Kimiko's thigh. "Now I need a fuck. What do you think? Dildo time?"

Despite being almost painfully over sensitised, Kimiko enjoyed the relaxed familiarity of Angelique toying with her folds. She watched the woman explore, idly marvelling at her "lovely long labia" and sliding Kimiko's thick hood off her clit with a thumb. She felt so relaxed down there she could probably squeeze Goldenrod in, or get Angelique to do it. The thought kicked her pulse up a gear.

"Did you bring it?" Kimiko couldn't hold herself up and flopped on her back, dimly aware of the woman opening her lips up like curtains.

"It's not in here," Angelique said and tittered like a drunk. "Let's go back to my room. I'll do you proper."

Kimiko blinked down at her, laughing.

Angelique blinked back. "What?"

"You're serious. Back there. With all those cameras?"

"That bothers you?"

Kimiko had a bad feeling about that question. The way she was positioned, the house appeared to pop up over her abdomen like a creepy old man leering at her bits.

"You didn't seem bothered by the cameras when I had three fingers inside you," Angelique added. Kimiko felt another testing finger squirl inside her. The woman continued as if she hadn't laid a bombshell at all. "You are the wettest creature I've ever seen. Can you squirt?"

"Filming... out here?"

"Of course? Zoom lens and everything. Give the cunt a wave." Kimiko jerked up, pushing Angelique aside and slapping her knees shut. So much for this rookie being no idiot.

"Oh come on. Chill, babe." She sucked her middle finger and thrust it at the house. "Fuck him. Let him watch while I fuck his fucking bodyguard."

"Excuse me?"

Angelique bit her lips. It was this that betrayed her. The biting back. It might have been a bad joke but for the bitten lips. They admitted deceit.

Without a word, Kimiko stood. She gathered her things. She dressed. Just that. She thought nothing. None of Angelique's blurted explanations and apologies entered her and Kimiko just walked around her when she barred her way. She trudged back to the house.

Only when she got back to the privacy of her room, after she'd emailed HQ to quit the job, then packed and locked her suitcase, only then did she allow her misery to flood out.

Angelique's bitten lips taunted her whenever she closed her eyes. The almost apologetic acknowledgement that the woman had deliberately used Kimiko as another weapon on her dad.

Kimiko had always thought she was like most women, who simply put sex low on their list of day-to-day priorities. But that rule wasn't meant for her, it was for women who had it always available and had the power of choice. Kimiko had no one, no choice at all, so she had buried her libido and stamped it down. Today she'd let Angelique - for whom sex was just a pastime - dig up her desire, show her what a wonderful and wild a flower it was. Just to fling it in her father's face with all her other debauchery.

But worse. Much worse. Kimiko had felt an unlikely kinship there. How could someone even fake that? How could Kimiko be so needily blind, and Angelique so cruel?

Downstairs, the front door slammed. Feet stomped up steps and another slammed. Kimiko wiped her eyes. Enough with this. She needed to put that woman, this place, and this afternoon far behind her.

She was hunting for her car keys when a smashing of glass stopped her dead. The sound hadn't come from Angelique's room.

She quickly fired up the tablet. The kitchen window was broken, and wide open. She pulled up the view into Angelique's room— And choked a scream. Angelique's lockless door flew open and a man the size of a fridge barged in. The stalker. One stiff arm. Gun.

Kimiko flew down the corridor. No time to plan a quiet assault, but still monitoring the creep's movements on the iPad while running as quietly as she could and pulling out her Glock. The invader was well over six foot and heavy, bearded, dressed in grubby sportswear. He stood at the foot of Angelique's bed, where she was sprawled naked on her front, catatonic with shock. Pathetically holding her golden dildo.

Kimiko dumped the tablet and charged into Angelique's room, her gun up and ready. "Drop your weapon!"

The greaseball giant faltered only a moment, raising his pistol at Angelique. Kimiko didn't falter at all. She aimed square for his chest and fired.

Click.

Kimiko roared - recalling Angelique ecstatically emptying the clip - and in this second small hesitation, while the creep huffed and shook his head, Kimiko leapt at him.

He swung the gun on her.

Bang.

Her chest exploded.

Bang.

White.

#

Black. Floating. Perfectly warm. Perfectly safe.

A rhythmic beep. Why is that so reassuring?

"Kimiko?"

What's that? Who's gripping her hand? Sachiko. This is heaven, then- Wait. Do bipolar suicides get heaven?

"Doctor! She squeezed my hand! Doctor!"

The first thing Kimiko sees, albeit blurrily and while someone rudely shines bright lights in her eyes, is The Angel.

Not heaven, then.

The woman beams wetly and is, for some reason, totally bald.

"Ma'am?" Kimiko croaks through papery lips. "You ok? Did I get him?"

Angelique can only leak, pressing Kimiko's fingers to her lips. Edges resolve. The rest of the world fills in. Daytime. Hospital.

Pain.

A doctor twiddles a dial on her tubes. In seconds, someone has removed all that is wrong in the world.

"I'll leave you two alone," the doctor says while - or possibly because - Angelique kicks off her penny-loafers and climbs into bed with Kimiko.

"I'm fine," Angelique says as she snuggles, her characteristic tweed rough against Kimiko's leg. "You got him. Or rather knocked him over so I could."

"You?"

"Yes me! When he shot you I went bonkers. I knocked him out with Goldenrod."

Maybe Kimiko's reaction is amplified by the most excellent drugs in her veins, but the image of the stalker being clubbed senseless with a golden dildo, brandished by his obsession, has Kimiko laughing so hard a nurse rushes in to tell them to take it easy.

Angelique pats her, shushing. "He shot you twice," she says eventually. "Missed your heart by inches, and clipped your head. You've been in a coma for days. Everyone is terribly impressed."

"Everyone."

"Dad. Doctors. Your boss. Oh, and the world's press."

Kimiko swallows. Really everyone, then.

"Mostly me, though." Angelique's cool palm presses to Kimiko's cheek, then by degrees, as if by telepathy, bitter pictures seep up through Kimiko's sweet high.

Angelique drops her gaze. "Kimiko. I—"

"You used me."

"Not used... well. Yes. I can see why you'd say that."

Angelique kisses her face and neck tenderly, and this is all the apology Kimiko really wants, if she's honest. "I am, literally, a punch bag," Kimiko sighs.

"My lovely punch-bag." Angelique slides a leg over Kimiko's. "And you proved it. Taking those bullets."

A surprising sensation presents itself under the covers. Is it Kimiko's drug-fuelled imagination or... "Are you humping my leg?"

"Yep. Shush."

"How could you?"

"Kimiko, you are the most desirable woman in the world. How could I not?" She grunts, and wriggles on top, winding her hips harder on Kimiko's thigh. "And slow your heart down, the beeping will bring a nurse in."

"Angelique?"

Angelique stops. "Say that again."

Kimiko leans to the woman's ear so her lips and tongue brush it. "Angelique..."

"F-fuck." She kicks off again, faster.

"Why are you bald?"

Angelique plucks a quick smacker of a kiss on Kimiko's own apparently bald head in a breathless precis of explanation. The solidarity has Kimiko wanting to weep and laugh at the same time. She nudges her leg upward instead. Angelique growls and shoves hard onto it and shudders to a halt. She bites her lips and yelps nasily, then collapses into rush-drunk giggles.

Kimiko wraps her arms around the twitching woman, at least as far as the tubes allow. She pats her back. "Better?"

She emits a long musical hum. "I can't wait till you are." She lifts the bedsheets and peers down at Kimiko's naked, bandaged body. It seems she might leak again. "I'm desperate to do you, too, but the Doctor says you need a few more weeks. No stimulation. Drugs. Caffeine. Men. He actually said that. No men."

"Fuck men."

Angelique slides off Kimiko's leg. "If you want," she says. She tugs at the gusset of her shorts and grimaces.

"That's not what I meant."

"I'm screwing with you, durr-brain." An idle trace of a fingertip suggests Kimiko is being set up, however. Angelique clears her throat. "But seriously though, why deny ourselves? We can have whatever we want, whenever we want it."

"Actually, I think you'll find that's just you." Someone is piling concrete into Kimiko's eyelids. She strains under the weight, terrified that if she falls asleep, she might wake up out of this dream.

"Not just me. Us. And what if we want kids? We'll need jizz for that."

"Us?" The world is sinking into deep black, edges first. "Jizz?"

"Oh Kimiko, you need sleep." Angelique arranges Kimiko's pillow carefully under her head. "But now you mention it, I suppose the twins would be dead keen to... oblige us, whenever we like. God knows they owe me. And we have the house to ourselves. Poor old Dad..." She swallows. "He's been diagnosed with dementia and he's staying in Switzerland, close to his clinic. So sad, but you know he really was confusing me for Mum? He was ill, not pervy... He can't accept Mum's gone, he thinks she's having an affair and the cameras were to catch her at it... Kimiko, how I tortured him, it breaks my heart... Anyway... Kimiko? Oh, sweet lady, sleep. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake. I promise. Always."

Kimiko drops into darkness. The swathe of Angelique's heat is a bandage wrapped around her ghost, unravelling, lowering her through the void. In the distance a light, a tiny star.

The light swells until it silhouettes a girl. Sachiko. Tossing her coin. Kimiko thrusts out her arms, tears suddenly streaming, but her sister is just out of reach. Sachiko beams calm. "Sis!" she says. "I learned to toss the coin! I can make luck!"

Kimiko sobs. The universe really does not care, if a person's illness goes with them to the afterlife.

Sachiko plucks a flickering penny from the air. She opens her fist, regards it and smiles. "You think I'm mad. But how did you get your job with Angelique, hmm? What luck that your boss got pregnant and won the lottery. That you are shot twice at close range, in the chest and the head, and survive."

She moves aside, offering the light to Kimiko. "You have to see what else I made."

Kimiko hesitates. What if this is a trick? Death screwing with her? She pulls Angelique's warm presence around her. Angelique wraps tighter in return.

"Your children. Elaine and Mizuki." Sachiko beckons her forward. "Come and see how you might make them. Sis, I need your help, luck will only get us so far. You'll face a choice you think will be against your nature, but you need to go with it. I'll show you. Come."

She moves aside and Kimiko can't resist. She floats toward the light, but Angelique has her wrapped so tight, Kimiko has to strain forward until she can just dip her face into the glowing pool.

#

White. Then the lounge of the great house. Sun streams though the windows and warms Kimiko, sat in the armchair in her bathrobe, reading. Angelique enters the room in her robe and unfastens it and lets it slide down her skin to the floor. She is exquisite, even with her boyish hair, which is why Kimiko couldn't resist this morning and woke the woman with a loving tongue, giving her an orgasm before she'd even opened her eyes. In return, Angelique has promised Kimiko will "cum buckets" later if she's prepared to wait. Kimiko has been jittery with anticipation ever since.

So when Angelique kneels at Kimiko's feet, she puts down her book and loops her legs over the arms of the chair. "Hmm... interesting body language," Angelique says, and runs tickling nails up and down Kimiko's inner thighs, her wedding ring glimmering in the sunlight. Kimiko's flashes, too as she slaps Angelique's hands away and waggles her hips impatiently. After pleasing her wife earlier, and then being on such a promise all morning, she is almost entirely liquid with longing.

Angelique knows this, and likes it. So she unfastens Kimiko's robe, and kisses her breasts instead. She nibbles, leaning her body into Kimiko's spread. Kimiko rocks against her, hands pressing shoulders down toward her throbbing clit. Her body cannot keep still; electricity sparks from her breasts across her skin, where it is sucked between her legs and gathers into a fizzing ball.

Angelique smirks and sits back. Kimiko hooks hands behind knees and spreads her legs wide as she can. She has no shame in displaying herself any more, or of the copious spill of her juices. She's proud. She knows how Angelique relishes it. And as ever, the woman cannot resist and finally drops her head where it is needed.

After all the waiting, it is a matter of seconds before Kimiko is screaming and writhing at Angelique's mouth, before she can take no more and reaches between her knees to push her back and plucks messy kisses of gratitude to her wife's lips and chin. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she mutters between each kiss, though secretly she's a little disappointed. It was a great orgasm, but hardly 'cumming buckets'.

"We're not done," Angelique says then and clicks her fingers above her head.

Giant twins stride into the room. Naked giant twins, great cocks bucking.

Kimiko instinctively covers herself. No. Not this. She glares at Angelique.

Angelique's face melts with concern, but still glows with supressed excitement. "Only if you want, Kimi. It's up to you."

She has a boggle of déjà vu. Has she dreamt this before or is she confusing herself with last time she met these men? They smile like action heroes. Their muscles twitch as they shift uncomfortably under Kimiko's scrutiny; racehorses unsure whether to bolt or race. Their bodies are hard, and their eyes hungry. But it is their sweet discomfort that softens Kimiko.

"I suppose we do need jizz for babies, don't we?" she says.

Angelique squeaks and Kimiko hates how excited she is. Was she not enough for her wife? She hardens again. Crosses her legs. She should do up her robe and leave the room. But how could she let this excited woman down? Then that blasted déjà vu. Nagging, "Do it. Do it."

She shrugs. As if to go with the flow is to make a decision. For Angelique, she tells herself. Just for Angelique.

"Sure? You want this?" She bites back a smile. "Maybe babies?"

Kimiko kisses her wife's trembling lips. "Maybe babies."

She hopes her calm bravado doesn't betray her real feelings. Her heart wants to flee her chest. Doubts whirl inside her skull. Would these perfect specimens find her attractive, next to this supermodel? Satisfying, next to this elegant slut? But above it all, she's not even sure if she wants men anymore.

She swallows her fear. Angelique needs men, too. Kimiko knew that when she married her. This was bound to happen. She stands beside her wife and sheds her robe.

"Which one wants Kimiko?" Angelique proclaims. For a terrible moment both men blink gormlessly. Neither offer and Kimiko wants to curl up into nothing. Then Angelique curses and repeats the instruction in French. Two hands shoot up.