| Subject: Part 3 |
Author:
KGilbert
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: 09:27:12 12/13/01 Thu
In reply to:
KGilbert
's message, "Twin Souls (NC-17)" on 09:13:25 12/13/01 Thu
Nikita's dream had become so meaningful to her that she had no desire, at the moment, to let her conscious mind remember that this wasn't her reality. The events in her unconscious realm, however, were about to force her to accept a highly-altered version of her usual waking life.
She was convinced again that she awoke in Michael's arms. He was still lying on top of her, ensheathed in her depths, his arms around her, his hands on her back.
She was awakened, however, by the soft stroke of fingers on her arm, although Michael hadn't moved. Her eyes popped open in alarm.
When they did, she looked up to see Michael sitting on her bed, examining her possessively, as he touched her. She gasped, waking . . . whoever this was on top of her.
Her lover looked up at her to see what was wrong, and she saw that he, too, was Michael. She groaned slightly and shook her head, baffled and a bit in shock. "What's going on?!"
The man whose body was still connected to hers smiled gently at her and kissed her cheek. "It's alright, Nikita. It's just us."
She looked back and forth between the physically-identical, naked men in front of her. "`Us'?" Her voice was very small, as she tried to comprehend.
The tender Michael decided that she was going to need a few minutes adjusting to this concept. He took hold of her hip and pulled himself from her, to a shared groan.
Her eyes were closed. "I'm not sure that answered my question any further." She refocused on him.
"Look at me, Nikita," the other Michael's voice shivered through her passionately. She did. His face was harder than her most recent lover's, his eyes less gentle. "You know who I am," he stated authoritatively.
Her face grew a little harder in return. "Yes . . . I do." Seeing him next to his gentle, loving self brought back all of her anger at him. "You're the son-of-a-bitch who's manipulated me for four years."
The tender Michael stroked her cheek, getting her attention. "Then I am, too."
She shook her head, her eyes softening. "No. You're not. . . . You wouldn't have done any of the things he has."
He nodded. "You're right. But that doesn't make me any less a part of him."
She sat back against the head of her bed, exasperated--drawing away from his hand. "Great." She thumped her hands down on the bed beside her. "So, you're both here to remind me that I'm totally conflicted about you?"
The Section Michael's eyes flashed for a second, remembering too well the conversation he had had with her--when he had told her about that same emotion in himself. "No. That's not why we're here."
"Well?" she prompted.
Her most recent lover smiled tenderly at her impatience. "I know it's hard to accept us both, . . . but we can't be separated." He smiled sympathetically. "It's both or none." It was an explanation, not an ultimatum. "Just as it is with you."
She shook her head in denial. "I don't have two sides."
Her ex-mentor sighed. "Yes. You do," his eyes locked with hers. "Everyone does. . . . And you know it."
His twin looked gently at her, drawing her attention with his soft voice. "You aren't split as radically as we are. . . . Most people aren't." He laughed a little. "You're a lot saner."
She looked over at the hard Michael and then back at the tender one. "Wouldn't it be better if I just got rid of him and focused on you?"
He looked sadly at her and shook his head. "I can't survive in Section." His eyes held terrible memories. "You know that."
She looked down, remembering, a little ashamed that she hadn't protected him better.
"No," he leaned forward to stroke her face--reading her thoughts. "You did your best. You did wonderfully."
"*I* failed," his twin broke in.
"You weren't even there," Nikita pointed out, looking at him--his double's hand still on her cheek.
"Precisely," he agreed.
She gave a little strangled noise of annoyance and hit his arm with the back of her hand--a gesture of frustration, not causing him any real pain. "Dammit!" she yelled, as she connected with him. "You're not responsible for everything! You're a total son-of-a-bitch, and you've screwed up my life something awful, but I *hate* that you think that any time you're human it's a mistake!"
He bore her tirade without any visible outward change. "That one was," he pointed out.
She screamed in frustration again and looked to his twin, whose hand still stroked soothing patterns on her cheek. "Would you tell him to shut up before I *really* hit him?"
He laughed slightly. "He wouldn't mind it even if you did."
She gave a strangled groan. "How sick is that?"
Her Section nemesis lost his patience and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from his twin. He looked in her eyes very seriously. "Listen to me. I need you. I don't care if you despise me every second of every day; I don't care if you leave bloody, open wounds on me. It doesn't matter. I just need you to accept that I'm always yours--regardless of what might seem to be true. . . . Anything you do to me after that is irrelevant."
She shook her head, her despair showing on her face. "Don't you see how unhealthy that is, Michael--for both of us?" Her eyes were tearing. "How long can we go on in this endless cycle of hate, passion, and pain?" Her voice got small. "Where will that end?"
The tender version of her lover put his hand on her back, as she and his twin continued to be locked in their stare. "It will end where it's supposed to, `Kita. . . . It will end where it needs to."
She sighed, slightly defeated, and looked at him, the other Michael still holding her arms. He continued, now stroking her face. "I know it's not pretty or perfect. . . . I'm sorry. We both wish it could be." His twin's hands stroked down her arms, as he looked down in saddened agreement. His tender side kissed her lightly and looked at her again. "It doesn't mean we don't love you."
She leaned back against the wall behind her bed--away from both of them--and took a breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "I just wish I could love you without all the pain and anger."
The gentle twin leaned toward her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her softly before releasing her and leaning back. "We know." He sighed. "We know it's not what any of us want."
He shook his head a little, a small smile on his face, as his mind switched paths slightly. "We're lucky, though, really." His twin focused on him. "Most people never find the other part of their soul; they go for lifetimes--never meeting them--or finding someone convenient, convincing themselves falsely that they've discovered them."
Nikita listened, eyes liquid.
He let out a shaky breath and looked down at the bed. "I'm sorry for all my twin's done to you, `Kita. I wish it could be different--that I could spare you the pain I've given." He looked up at her, sadly. "But--even to save us both the pain of this life--I don't think I could want . . . to not have met you." He looked at his other self and back at her. "I--neither of us--could live another lifetime without you."
She closed her eyes, head lowering. "Neither could I."
She sighed, after a second, mind switching tracks slightly, and looked up. "It doesn't seem fair, though."
"No," he agreed, "it doesn't."
She looked at the Section Michael. "You'll just hurt me again, won't you?"
He nodded, eyes filled with torturous knowledge. "Yes . . . whenever it can't be avoided."
"Whenever Section says it can't be avoided," his twin amended.
The Section side accepted this as the truth. "Yes," he sighed. "But it won't stop me from needing you."
"Or me from loving you," his other side added.
She closed her eyes again and shook her head. "Jesus, the Fannings look sane compared to this."
"No," the tender one answered, stroking her leg lightly. "David Fanning needed a victim." He looked over at his twin, once she looked up. "*He* doesn't want to hurt you."
"It's not really enough, is it?" she asked.
They shook their heads, looking at her. "No."
She let out a tired breath and leaned her head back for a minute before refocusing on them. She then began laughing slightly.
"What is it?" her ex-mentor asked.
She was still laughing a little. "Well, I just realized I've been having a deep conversation with two sides of the same man, while we all sat on my bed, totally nude. . . . Doesn't that strike you as a bit funny?"
He shook his head, accepting it with his usual stoicism. "No."
The tender side smiled at her.
"I'll have to buy you a sense of humor for Christmas," she chuckled.
The tender side smiled. "He has one. He just keeps it in a drawer until it's needed."
She laughed even harder. The situation seemed ludicrous.
She stopped laughing suddenly, though, when her mind began to really take in the situation; maybe it was all really just embarrassing. She blushed slightly, unaccountably beginning to feel her nakedness.
Her Section mentor examined her analytically. Then, he leaned forward and placed a light kiss on her cheek.
She took in a breath, closing her eyes.
He continued to place very light, teasing kisses down her face, until he reached her neck. There, he sucked a sensitive bit of flesh into his lips and licked it, before nibbling on it slightly. She moaned, holding him to her.
He pulled back after a few seconds and whispered in her ear. "Still embarrassed?"
She opened her eyes and looked at his twin. She released the man she held and looked down. "No." Her breasts were making her arousal fairly obvious to them both. "But," she sighed, looking up, "I want you both."
They both smiled at her; the tender twin's was warm--heart-melting, while his double's was just a slight quirk of the lips. "Why do you think this is a problem?" the Section one asked.
She looked back and forth between them. "Well . . . um." She couldn't think of any delicate way to say it; she took a breath. "You won't both fit into me--not in the way I want, anyway."
"Hell, one of you's enough for any woman," her mind added silently.
Their smiles grew, as though they had heard her thought. The tender Michael answered her. "Let us show you something." The Section twin looked at him and held up his left hand; his double moved over a little and put his behind it. A second later, they had fused into one.
Nikita's eyes grew wide. "How'd you do that?!"
"Touch it," her ex-trainer advised.
She did, tentatively. It was warm, solid--soft. She looked up at them, and the hand took hold of hers, stroking it gently. She groaned and looked back at it.
It continued gently arousing her. At times, however, it seemed to not be joined completely. Two thumbs of the hand would stroke her, then rejoin to stroke as one--whichever was more pleasurable to her.
She looked up at them. "This is weird," she insisted, although her stomach was flip-flopping a little in desire.
They smiled at her and held her hand more lightly. The Section one leaned in to kiss her palm--tongue running out briefly to trace a small line, while his twin took one of her slim fingers in his mouth, suckling it. Her pulse rate doubled, eyes widening again. After a minute, they stopped, looking up at her once more. "It has intriguing possibilities, though, doesn't it?" the tender one asked.
She looked at them. Alright, it was bizarre, but what a fool she would be to pass up an opportunity like this. "It does," she agreed, eyes wide, smiling a bit.
They leaned in to kiss the hand they held and then released it. Then, the hand they had joined separated again, as they each became whole once more.
"We love you, Nikita," her tender lover said. "If you want us, . . . we're yours."
She looked at them both. They were so incredibly beautiful--so perfectly made. She looked over the tender one--his eyes had so much love; he was such an open and giving lover--so delicately, passionately sensual, fulfilling--completing her, both body and soul.
She examined his twin next--his whole manner spoke of some predatory jungle cat, body capable of grace, danger, and a sort of savage beauty; his love was ruthless, endangering but deeply--almost brutally--satisfying. . . . God, yes, she wanted them both.
It was growing increasingly evident, looking at them, that her passion was returned. She opened her arms to them. "Please . . . yes."
They melded themselves into one; they were both still obviously present, however, in some completely indefinable way. They moved toward her and drew her into their arms.
They looked at her for a minute from the same eyes. Love and passion-both violent and tender--shone out to her. A hand pulled her head forward, and they kissed her, leaning her back on the bed.
Two mouths in one seemed to close on hers. One gently sought out ways to please her--touching, tasting. The other possessed her lips, her tongue--demanded acquiescence, commanded her pleasure.
She couldn't keep up with their conflicting demands, but neither seemed to mind. They seemed so happy to be joined to her, needing the soft, sweet depths, the reassurance of her love that the kiss held. . . . It was an amazing experience.
One strong arousal pressed against her nether bud, throbbing against her. She groaned, pressing her hips against theirs. One Michael nipped at her lips, while the other grew slightly more frenzied in his worship of her mouth.
Her hands moved down them, caressing the wide sweep of broad shoulders, tracing down the wonderful, strong lines of muscles, as they quivered in response. Their arousal twitched against her, making her groan again.
There was a responding groan and one head rose from her lips to begin nuzzling and kissing down her cheek. When he reached her jaw, he nibbled just under it, suckling at bits of flesh. The other Michael continued to gently arouse her mouth.
The first Michael reached her neck, as he separated from his twin, some parts of them still overlapping. He began nibbling, slightly roughly, at its tender places of need. She moaned and held the other more firmly in the kiss. The first one bit her harder in response.
She gasped in pleasure, and her second lover kissed her once more before breaking away. He kissed tenderly over her cheek to her earlobe, nuzzling at it, suckling it. He then moved down to the unoccupied side of her neck and began suckling the tender places there.
The combination of their skills and passions was amazing. One was so tender with her, worshipping her flesh into warm, tingling arousal. The other was rough in his pleasing, reminding her willing flesh that it was his to passionately torment.
They were overwhelming her; her breathing was increasingly unsteady. When they traced their hands up her body to caress her breasts, she cried out. "Oh, God, yes! Please, Michael, more." She held their heads to her.
One head smiled against her neck in response, while the other growled. The hand on her right breast caressed it, stroked slow lines over the aroused nipple before squeezing her breast tenderly. Its matching hand, however, captured its nipple and rolled it roughly between its fingers; it squeezed her needy breast, reminding it who controlled its desires.
"Ohhh!" she cried. Her hands left the soft hair she had been caressing and--passing through their bodies ethereally--came to rest on their solid hands, holding them more tightly over her breasts.
She blinked suddenly, realizing what had happened. She looked up. "How did I do that?"
They ceased teasing her neck momentarily to look up at her. "Does it matter?" the Section one asked. They each caressed a breast.
She closed her eyes and moaned. "No," she agreed in a small voice.
They each smiled in their own distinct way and then began to move down her body. One licked her softly; the other gave her hard, teasing kisses.
They removed her hands, as they reached her breasts. One licked taunting lines around a nipple; the other ran his teeth lightly over her--repeatedly, followed each time by a soothing stroke of his tongue.
Her hands rested on their heads, stroking their hair, as she sighed in pleasure. Then, in unison, they each took a nipple into their mouths, suckling her firmly.
She moaned out her desire. "Oh, more," she pleaded. "Yes. . . . More."
The man on her right seemed to encircle her with his tongue, as he suckled her. His warm mouth drew her in, aroused her with tender desire.
His twin, however, held her in his teeth, his tongue running over the sensitive tip of the bud. His suckling would then begin again, until he interrupted it to bite her perfectly once more, commanding the aching desire there.
The pleasure from both of them was almost too much. One was soft with her--one hard, but both appealed to opposite sides of her nature. The combination of them was amazing--such skilled lovers--the *same* skilled lover, intent solely on pleasing her, because it was what they both longed for, as well. She loved . . . wanted them . . . him so much.
She was moaning constantly by the time they decided to switch off their playthings. They changed sides and repeated their pattern again.
"Ohhhh . . . ohhhh, God, yes," she moaned. Each nipple was now being given the sort of love it had been denied before. One was soothed from its rough treatment by a loving touch--was reminded again of how arousing tenderness could be; the other was aroused yet further, was reacquainted with the mate who possessed it.
She was groaning and panting, completely lost in sensation. The Michael on her right began to move down her body, but the one on her left lifted his head up her slightly, till he kissed over her heart.
"Mmmm," she moaned, kissing the top of his head, as his twin reached and kissed over her abdomen, working downward. She still held them both to her, moaning slightly.
She was surprised, however, by a shock of emotion when the Michael at her heart suddenly flicked his tongue out and then--somehow--into the beating muscle there, placing an ethereal kiss to the symbolic center of her emotions.
"Oh God," she cried.
He kissed it twice more and then leaned up to kiss her cheek before moving to join his twin in tracing down her body.
Nikita's eyes were still closed. She was still in shock from this new ethereal ability of her lover; it had spurred all of her emotions, had connected her with him in the most spiritually intimate way. She had let them both go, overwhelmed, as she tried to remember to breathe. She was lost in loving and erotic sensation.
"I love you," she whispered before opening her eyes again.
Michael had corporeally recombined and was now sitting between her parted thighs. He looked up from kissing one and smiled at her.
Her eyes shone at him. He gently spread her legs further apart and bent his head to the part of her he loved to tempt the most--the area of her whose desires he most loved controlling.
Tears of love and desire filled her eyes. Then, she felt the shock of two erotic mouths connecting with her tender flesh. She moaned loudly.
The tender Michael was licking her bud, like a cat lapping cream. The other held her depths open with his fingers, as he ran his tongue around her--just inside her; he then lowered his mouth further and slid his wet, inventive tongue into her, flicking it at a tender spot he had found.
She held them each to her, as she moaned out her approval. The Michael at her bud began flicking at her remorselessly, while the one inside her stroked a hot path up and down one sensitive wall. They both held her to them from behind, as her breathing became dangerously erratic.
She was groaning very loudly, as her tender lover changed his pattern again. He took her between his lips and stroked at her with the tip of his tongue--up and down mercilessly. His twin created a suction on her with his mouth, drinking from her honeyed depths. She was giving a constant kind of groaning scream.
A second later, her more feral lover plunged himself ruthlessly back into her--his tongue hitting and commanding a secret, quiveringly sensitive, spot. At precisely the same moment, the other Michael pulled at her with his lips, brushing her with his teeth and a flick of his tongue, as he released her.
Nikita whimpered beneath them. Her hips arched uncontrollably at them, lifting from the bed. She felt incredible shockwaves of pleasure vibrate through her, crashing over her in waves. She moaned, caught in them completely.
Both Michaels rejoined to drink from her deeply, loving the pleasure they had given her. They both knew this was how it should be--that any pleasure either of them gave to their treasured Nikita was right.
They had trouble tearing themselves away from her sweetness to return to her. They eventually did, though, each massaging his way back up, retasting the lovely parts they had missed in their absence at her core.
Once they finally returned to face her, she held them to her, kissing them soundly, possessing their mouth. Their devotion at her depths had made her need for them insane.
Finally, she pulled back and looked at him. "You're mine," she whispered.
She rolled him over, landing on top of him, and kissed him again. She nipped slightly at his lips and then began to kiss over his cheek, licking at the stubble with her tongue, before moving down to nibble at his jawline.
Michael groaned, holding her to him. She ran her tongue under his jaw and then kissed lovingly along it.
She moved further down to seek out the delicate spots on his neck, the ones which responded only to her--a fact she only knew in this ethereal place. She caught at one, as he held her to him. She suckled at it, showing it all the erotic attention it deserved. His breathing was a bit shaky in response.
After a few minutes, she grazed at it with her teeth slightly, as she let it go. Michael groaned and gently moved her head on him, guiding her to a spot that needed her attention. "Please . . . hard," part of him groaned.
She grazed her teeth over the spot before biting at him, tormenting him. He panted, holding her to him. "More."
She bit him harder and felt his arousal jump against her, growing. "Yes," he moaned. She loved the delicate spot roughly, fulfilling its not-so-tender fantasy.
She had bruised it by the time she left. He was still panting. "Thank you."
His hands guided her again, gently stroking through her hair. Another spot needed her. "Please," his gentle voice asked.
She took the spot softly in her lips, letting her tongue run over it. He moaned. She suckled him tenderly--passionately, as he sighed.
"Yes," he breathed. "Yes."
Her hands slid up his chest, meanwhile, until they found the small, hard nipples. She teased him--pinching one, gently rolling the other between her fingers.
"Ohhh, yes, `Kita," he moaned in response. "Please, yes."
She let go of his neck, pausing for a second to run her teeth over and suckle one earlobe. Then, she began to kiss her way down to his chest. He was tense with anticipation.
She licked over to one nipple and ran her teeth over it, as her hand gently aroused its twin. His hands continued in her hair, his voice harsh. "More."
She bit him, suckling roughly, while her hand stroked the back of his shoulder, holding him to her. He moaned. "Oh yes . . . yes."
After a few more minutes of this rough treatment, she licked that nipple goodbye and moved to its double. She took it gently in her mouth and suckled at it. Her hand caressed the abandoned one.
He panted. "Wonderful," he moaned.
A minute or so later, she left this thoroughly-aroused bud, as well. Before she moved further down him, however, she placed her head over his heart and kissed his skin. Then, using his trick, she flicked her tongue into the muscle and kissed him.
He panted, groaning. "Oh God." His voice was rough.
She could feel the connection to him even more strongly here. His love for her beat loudly--washing through her; she understood that she was the only person he really kept there.
"`Kita," he called. He pulled her back up to him and kissed her deeply, sharing his love for her.
The kiss and the emotions they shared in it were astonishing. He tried to roll her back over, but she stopped him. She looked up, locking his eyes.
"No, Michael," she told him defiantly. "You're not denying me this." She smiled slightly and then began to kiss her way back down him.
She came to rest with her head hovering over his arousal. She started touching him very softly with her hand, her palm just brushing up and down his length. "I know you need me, Michael," she smiled at him. He forced open his eyes to look at her, her touch already inflaming him. "But I have to taste you."
He closed his eyes, too tortured by the passion she offered him to be able to watch her, but she wouldn't let him go so easily. "Watch me, Michael," she taunted him, as he managed to look at her once more. "Watch me love you."
She reached down below his arousal and cupped the sac beneath; he took in a breath, heartbeat thundering. Then, keeping eye contact with him all the way, she bent down to take the head of his shaft into her mouth, suckling him. The hand below began to caress him, as the other closed around the bottom of his need, stroking firmly upwards.
He groaned loudly, his eyes closing involuntarily, too overcome with her willingness--her desire to please him. She continued stroking his length, as her tongue circled around the tip--tormenting him. He grabbed hold of the sheets. Her tongue ran just under the rim of the head. "Yes . . . yes," he moaned.
She continued to suck him, moving her mouth further down. She took in as much of him as she could, but he was too large to be completely subsumed by her mouth.
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 
