The madame had said little more on the topic and Linza hadn’t pressed for more. She’d returned to her apartment earlier in the day than usual and she turned over those words. She was supposed to use her imagination? How?
Everything given probably meant that she was supposed to share how she felt. But she still didn’t know how she felt!
Nothing taken meant to not presume how Tanyth or Grun were feeling, but Linza felt that they’d been pretty clear. She was sure that clarification would help, but she didn’t know what to clarify until she knew how she felt.
Having fun seemed impossible until she sorted this out… but perhaps that was where she was going wrong.
So, she was supposed to have fun and use her imagination.
Well… She could think of one thing that fit that bill, at least.
Feeling a bit uninspired, Linza turned to the offerings of her past self, the growing collection of erotic scenes and story snippets that she’d been working on for the past few months.
Still feeling in an analytical mood, she started by editing a few of the newer pieces.
Yet the words slipped under the surface of the mind, familiar and yet forgotten as they were, and stirred the same feelings that had inspired them.
Still, she kept to her task. It was a strategy, a like corking wine while it fermented. She let the flavors evolve, the pressure build.
She didn’t hurry herself. She needed to marinate.
An hour and then another easily slid by.
And as she checked the clock and realized that she really ought to be getting to bed, her heart thudded in her ears and her sex ached and her small clothes were totally soaked.
She slipped between her sheets and then slipped her fingers between her own folds.
Her heat flared with the sort of sudden rapture only possible through this level of anticipation. And that heat melted her inhibitions like wax inside a furnace. She plunged into the depths of her subconscious imaginings, finally unafraid of what she might find.
Grun was there first. He was dressed as he had been at their dinner, trying to look bold, yet still blushing. She wrapped her arms around him from behind—he melted under her fingertips. Then he overtook her and filled her with his girth.
Then, Tanyth. All pastels and flowing. Never really on the top, never really on the bottom. A dance of equal partners. Her touching herself, them touching themselves. Them in her mouth, her under their tongue.
Grun, steady and forceful as a drum line.
Tanyth, light and warbling like a melody.
She brought the comparison closer, switched back and forth more rapidly.
Riding Grun and licking Tanyth.
Tanyth wrapped around her and Grun inside of her.
Grun moaning and Tanyth gasping.
Until it was all at once, the steady drumbeat pounding through her and the melody like air all around.
Linza clawed at her sheets as her back curled and her body melted into pleasure. There was the gasping climb, the peak of sensation, the groaning echoes and the lingering afterglow.
And then finally, as the tide came in and the waves carried her out into an ocean of rest, she finally knew what she wanted.