By Andrea Dale
“Just Be” was inspired in part by a song, as so many of my stories have been. My high school music teacher always said “music is the language of the emotions,” and what’s more emotional than erotica and erotic romance? I find music extremely sensual, and that repeatedly finds its way into my fiction.
Those who know me, or who’ve ever visited my website, won't be surprised to learn the song in question is by the group Styx, my favorite band (115 shows as of this writing! Wooh!). “Just Be” (the song) is about turning off the Internet and the other distractions in our lives, and relaxing and enjoying the world around us.
Like the protagonist in my story, I spent time in law school, and I remember how all-consuming and crazy it could make me. Although I left law school after my first year, realizing it wasn't what I wanted to do with my life, I'm impressed with and applaud those who have the dedication to make it through the full three years. When you're immersed in a busy study schedule, it's easy to miss the clues of what's going on around you, especially in your personal life and relationships. It can be even harder for the other partner in the relationship, losing your loved one to Contracts and Torts and all-night study sessions.
“Just Be” is one of my unabashedly romantic stories, and I hope readers enjoy it. I was delighted to have the reprint accepted for Coming Together: At Last back in 2009. Because what a perfect place for this particular story! The Coming Together anthology series is all about being a part of this grand world around us, and striving to make it a better place for everyone.
In the story, the narrator’s gone to law school as an adult, and she was sure that her time away from home means the end of her relationship with her partner, Sarita. But Sarita has been interpreting their “problems” a different way, and as soon as finals are over, whisks the narrator off to Yosemite for some much-needed R&R.
In the flickering firelight, I watched the cherries stain Sarita’s lush lips a deeper red, and I quivered right down to my clit.
She looked up, saw me watching her. Must have seen the look in my eyes, because she smiled, tossed the pit in the fire, and leaned over to kiss me.
Like the kiss at the car, it was slow, gentle, gradually deepening. Dimly, I realized that I understood the cliché of air to a drowning man. I breathed in the feel of Sarita against me and felt alive again.
The skin of her bare arms was satiny under my hands. Suddenly I wanted to be naked, feel my body against hers: soft belly, hard hipbones, sharp nipples, silken hair above and coarse below. I wanted it so badly that my hands shook.
“You taste so good,” Sarita whispered, licking the hollow of my breastbone. “I’ve missed the taste of you.”
“I’ve missed you, too. I’m so sorry—”
She pressed her lips against mine again until she was sure I’d stopped trying to talk, then said, “Ssh. Don’t talk. Just be.”
I let tears of wonder drain back into my throat and kissed her, cupping her beautiful face in my hands. Her tongue darted in and out of my mouth, teasing and playful, and my pussy contracted as I thought about how that teasing touch would feel on my clit.
We tumbled back onto the sleeping bag we’d cleverly laid out already. Sarita kneeled over me, unbuttoning my shirt and leaving trailing kisses along the exposed skin, then deftly undoing the front hook of my bra. Cool air slid over me before she took my breasts in her hand and warmed first one, then the other nipple with her wet mouth.
It had been so long since we’d touched that my cunt ached from the sudden rush and swell of desire.
I think we might both have had it in our heads to take this slow, to savor and celebrate. Our bodies, however, had other plans.
I reached up to brush my palms across her breasts. She was braless beneath the tank top, and her nipples distended the fabric. She hissed as I pinched, first gently, then harder. Her hips twitched, which pressed her crotch harder against mine.
It wasn’t quite an orgasm, or maybe you could call it a mini-orgasm. I know I shuddered with pleasure, cried out her name. Whatever it was, it was enough for her to expertly strip me of my shorts and part my thighs with her long-fingered hands.
Then her mouth was on me, and she licked and sucked my swollen clit, and that was enough to send me off on a real orgasm, one incredibly long one or maybe a string of them.
She kissed me, her face covered in my juices, and moments later I was between her legs and returning the favor, two fingers stroking her deep inside as I licked her until she screamed.
After that we slowed down, stroking and whispering and luxuriating in having all the time in the world to make love.
Sometime after that, with a waxing moon high in the sky and stars like you’ve never seen, we threw half the sleeping bag over us and finally talked.
In celebration of these fantastic charity anthologies, I’m giving away my very first e-collection, Kiss Me Hello: Lesbian Erotic Romance. All you have to do is leave a comment below (make sure you leave an email address)! I’ll choose the winner at noon on Valentine’s Day.
“Kiss Me Hello is the first collection from legendary erotica heavy-hitter Andrea Dale. Prepare to be both aroused and charmed by these ten tales of lesbian erotic romance, which appeared in such lauded anthologies as The Sweetest Kiss, Lesbian Cowboys, and Best Lesbian Romance. In Kiss Me Hello you’ll find out why Cleis Press calls Andrea Dale one of the best in the genre of lesbian erotica.”
Called a “legendary erotica heavy-hitter” (by the über-legendary Violet Blue), ANDREA DALE writes sizzling erotica with a generous dash of romance. Her work appeared in the LAMBDA-award-winning anthology Lesbian Cowboys: Erotic Adventures and Romantic Times 4.5-star anthology Fairy Tale Lust, as well as about 100 other anthologies from Harlequin Spice, Avon Red, and Cleis Press. She finds passion in rock music, clever words, piercing blue eyes, the wind in her hair, and the scent of the ocean.