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Silvia woke up slowly with a terrible hangover.
Her whole body hurt. She felt sweaty and uncomfortably warm. Something stuck to her skin and her legs were somehow trapped. The skin on her back felt raw and badly scratched, and every single muscle was sore. She had a pounding headache and could not figure out where she was or how she had gotten to bed.
Suddenly her mind started to work. She realized what the soft, warm, silky thing against her skin must be, she was embraced by another body. The shock woke her up completely. Her eyes flashed open and stared into a pair of bright blue eyes right in front of her own.
A beautiful blonde woman was pressed against her, the stranger's legs wrapped around Silvia's. Their bellies and breasts were practically glued together by sweat, and the blonde's hair was tangled deeply into Silvia's brown strands.
Panicked, Silvia tried to push herself away from the stranger. A sharp pain shocked through her crotch. Both women screamed. Silvia pushed again.
"Stop it, stop it, stupid cow," the other woman hissed into her face.
"Get away from me," Silvia screamed shrilly.
"I can't," the blonde shouted back, her lips almost touching Silvia's. "Our pussy hair is stuck together. Now calm the fuck down."
Both lay still for a moment and stared angrily into each other's eyes. Silvia hated the breath of the other woman on her lips, she hated the sweaty, warm body against her own, she hated the smeared lipstick all over the other's face and neck, because the color looked exactly like her own lipstick, and she could not comprehend why lip-shaped stains of her lipstick could cover that bitch.
Her head ached, and she tried to remember how she could have ended up in this position.
Silvia was on holiday. She was a beautiful slim brunette in her early thirties, and she was spending a holiday in an exclusive beach resort. Yesterday evening she had been to the resort's dance club. She dimly remembered a lot of alcohol and intense dancing, but nothing else.
"Why is our pussy hair stuck together?" Silvia asked venomously, her eyes narrow slits.
"Well, I can't remember," the blonde hissed back, "but there aren't that many options, are there?"
Slowly the memory of dancing with a blonde woman crept through Silvia's mind.
Both women blushed.
Deeply embraced, they tried to look away from each other, but their entangled hair made it difficult.
"I'm Silvia."
"Viola."
Silvia stared at the blonde's lips; it was the only way to avoid her eyes. The lips were thin but nicely shaped, they looked very much like Silvia's own ,
Suddenly she remembered kissing. Deep, wet, aggressive kissing. Tongues wrestling, entwining, squeezing each other like fighting pythons. She remembered massive amounts of saliva invading her mouth, and she remembered pushing equal amounts against the tide, and she remembered her tongue's tip against Viola's tongue's tip, pressing, pushing, thrusting against each other with all the strength the pink muscle could muster.
When the shock of that memory slowly had ebbed away, Silvia desperately wanted to get away from the other woman.
"Let's get out of this position," she said as friendly as she could manage.
Slowly they arched their upper bodies back. Silvia watched their small breasts separate; she was amazed how equal their tits were in size and shape. Four long nipples emerged when they moved away from each other. Silvia felt her nipples getting harder from the movement; it did hurt, their nipples must have been together for a long time.
Next their bellies came apart. With a plopping sound, their navels unsealed from each other.
Their hair stuck together, and they could not get their heads more than a foot away from each other.
Looking down past their equal breasts and their similar deep belly buttons, they could see their pubic hair now, blonde and brown, hopelessly intertwined and glued together by dried cum-juice. Both slowly slid a slender hand between their tummies, and together they tried to separate the pubic hair, but to no avail.
"Oh fuck, what have we done last night?" Silvia sighed.
"I have really no idea," Viola answered softly. "I don't get very wet normally, so I think we had quite the night."
Both blushed again, but they smiled at each other and chuckled together. Then another uncomfortable silence started.
For the first time Silvia looked at the room, just to look away from Viola. The room was large and unfamiliar, probably Viola's hotel room. The bed was in a total mess. Her bra hung on the bedside lamp, another one was at the window sill, an empty champagne bottle lay on the nightstand, then Silvia spotted a digicam beside the bottle.
"Keep still," she said to Viola, and started to roll herself over the blonde. Viola protested but rolled with her until Silvia could reach the camera. Both tried to ignore that their nipples had touched again and were pressed deep into the other's breast.
Silvia took the camera. There was a movie on it. "Let's have a look."
The two lay embraced and had to put their heads cheek to cheek in order to look at the display together. Silvia started the short movie.
In total shock the two women watched themselves on the tiny display. They saw their bodies entwined in a scissors position, their crotches pumping together with smacking sounds, their breasts slamming into each other, their hands clawed into each other's hair. Their faces were bright red and sweat-covered, tongues swirling frenetically around each other, spittle flying, frenzied shrieks and moans came from the camera. Then the display went black again.
Silvia and Viola lay still, cheek to cheek. Neither could bear to look at the other. Silvia was deeply shocked and embarrassed; she couldn't believe what she had seen. This could not have been her. She desperately tried to remember. Images of body shots came to her mind, more dancing, and a blurry image of two slim bodies pressed together, only separated by skimpy summer dresses.
She blushed again, and suddenly she realized that she was getting aroused. She felt her nipples harden, and she could feel Viola's nipples harden against her own.
Frantic, they tried to get away from each other, but their pubic hair prevented it.
"Stop, stop," Silvia said and tried to calm down the struggling Viola.
"To the shower," she said.
Slowly and carefully they sat up. The only way to do it without pain was in a scissors position. Silvia was fully aware that they were sitting opposite each other like in the movie; the look on Viola's face showed her that the blonde had the same thoughts. Awkwardly they stood up body to body. Guiding each other by the hips, they walked towards the bathroom with tiny sidesteps. With every step their nipples rubbed against each other; both pairs had grown to enormous sizes from the friction.
Silvia's gaze fell on their tangled summer dresses, which lay in a heap just behind the door.
"Where are our shoes?" Silvia asked.
"The hotel lawn," Viola answered dryly.
Silvia looked puzzled and slowly opened her mouth, but Viola already answered the unspoken question: "We made out, humping each other's leg, rolling back and forth, hence all the grass in our hair." Viola's face got very red. "You made me come off there," she added in a whisper.
Silvia was very thankful that Viola was too embarrassed to look at her for a moment. She stared at the ceiling while Viola gazed around the room.
"I can't see panties anywhere here, and I remember we still wore them on the lawn."
A memory flashed through Silvia's mind:
She remembered a confined, brightly lit space. She remembered her ass on a handrail and her feet pressed against an opposite wall, Viola in the same position in front of her, their long legs scissored around each other's bodies.
She remembered their crotches rubbing together. She could remember the determination on Viola's face while the blonde was grinding her wet vulva into her own. She remembered the bright light sparkling on the silken skin of their entwined legs. Slowly she remembered an enormous orgasm shaking her body and Viola's jubilant grin.
"The elevator," she told Viola matter-of-factly.
"Please don't tell me we did… not there…" Viola begged weakly.
Silvia answered with a crooked smile.
"But the damn thing is made of glass, anyone can see it from the whole fucking hotel," Viola hissed, like it must have been Silvia's fault.
"Well, we may have been VERY horny," Silvia snapped back.
They stared angrily at each other.
"You made me come," Silvia scolded.
"Well, of course," Viola screamed, "because I am HOT AS HELL." Viola rammed her body hard against Silvia's.
"YES YOU ARE, YOU FUCKED ME," Silvia screamed back, and grabbed Viola's hair. A sharp pain reminded her that their hair was still helplessly entwined, but she did not care at the moment.
"You made me COME ON THE LAWN, YOU SLUT," Viola yelled, and started to pull hair as well, "because you are so FUCKING SEXY."
Pushing against each other and tugging wildly at their tangled hair, they staggered in the middle of the room. Their bodies were so equal in strength that they quickly reached a stalemate; neither managed to push the opponent back even a little.
Their tear-filled eyes stared hatefully into each other, their eyelashes almost touching.
Their glued-together bodies made a real fight almost impossible. To anyone watching it might have looked more like a very close dance, their lithe bodies entwined and wrapped around each other as they slowly moved in a small circle.
The situation brought another memory back to Silvia:
She remembered how it had started: how she had watched Viola on the other side of the dance floor. She remembered grudgingly acknowledging that Viola was a very good dancer. Silvia had trained in dance from her early youth, and the graceful, sexy moves of the other woman were as good as her own. She also had realized that Viola was watching her as well.
Slowly they had moved closer together through the crowd, until they were right behind each other. Silvia had sensed the body heat from the other woman; she had imagined how their full round butts swayed just centimeters away from each other, covered only in thin and very short summer dresses.
She was dimly aware that many men and a few women had stopped dancing and stared at them. She imagined how the viewers were comparing their long legs, their slender hips, and she wondered which body the onlookers found sexier.
Suddenly their butts had made contact. Very lightly they had bumped together. Silvia's breath had quickened. With eyes closed they had danced. Silvia had slowly rubbed her butt along the curve of Viola's butt, then Viola had taken the lead and pressed her ass forcefully deep into Silvia's. Silvia had stood her ground. Both dancers tried to bring the other one out of balance; with brute force the full, firm flesh of their butts had slammed together again and again in sync with the beating music. Both bodies became covered completely in a layer of sweat. Then the music had changed. The DJ started to play slower, more romantic songs. Silvia and Viola had followed the flow. Their butts then had gently fondled each other, had slowly moved up and down, following the other's curve. The last thing Silvia could remember was that she had gathered all her courage, and then abruptly had turned around to face the blonde.
Abruptly Silvia stopped the hair-pulling.
"We danced," she told Viola. "Yesterday evening, we danced like crazy, competitive. I think that's where it started."
She gently brushed the tears from Viola's face.
Viola smiled suddenly. "Gloomy Sunday."
"What?"
"Gloomy Sunday. I remember the song was played, we danced really close, and then we kissed," Viola whispered.
"So, we can blame bloody Heather Nova," Silvia said.
Both giggled. They didn't even notice that their hands had left each other's hair and had somehow circled around the other woman in a gentle embrace.
"Heather is damn sexy, isn't she?" Viola asked innocently.
"I don't know, I'm not a lesbian," Silvia snapped while she tried to push away many memories of herself masturbating to the husky voice of the blonde singer, it didn't help that Viola had a slight similarity to the singer.
"Neither am I," Viola answered slowly. "I never had… you know… with a woman, before…"
Silvia's eyes focused on Viola's again. "Do you know you look a bit like Heather?"
"Yeah, I know. Do you know you look a bit like Sheryl Crow? I mean, when she was still sexy, in the '90s."
"Damn, she was hot," Silvia purred.
"I don't know, I'm not a lesbian."
Both women laughed until they were in tears again.
"Let's get this over with, already," Viola demanded through the laughter.
Silvia only nodded, and they started to pitter-patter towards the bathroom. After a few steps they started to dance in small circles until they had reached the bath.
Finally they had reached the shower. Both turned their heads upwards, as much as their tangled hair allowed. Chin to chin they enjoyed the warm water on their faces, then they slowly combed their hair through their fingers until they could separate strand after strand. Both women acted as if this task demanded their long, slender fingers to repeatedly interlock and caress each other.
It took a while, but in the end, their hair was separated. Both women leaned back. For the first time Silvia could really see Viola's body, down to her waist. She gazed mesmerized at the small but full breasts, where drops of water dripped down from long hard nipples, the slender waist, the perfectly round and deep belly button, and down to the point where their waists met. Their lower bodies, still glued together, were pressed tight against each other. Silvia looked down at her own very white skin meeting Viola's more golden color. She could see the first few entangled brown and blonde hairs.
Silvia's eyes wandered upward again until her gaze met Viola's. Both knew that it was time to end it. Slowly and carefully they inserted their slender fingers into the mass of entwined brown and blonde pubic hair and started to separate them. Slowly their fingers moved through the mass; again and again they stroked against each other, and from time to time a fingertip moved down and "accidentally" touched swollen vulvas.
Both women looked over the other's shoulder; eye contact would have been too embarrassing for both of them right now. They had to use all their inner strength not to moan loudly. Both acted as if they were simply separating hair, but finally they had no more excuse to touch each other's groin. Reluctantly they withdrew their fingers from the other's pubic hair. A tiny move backwards, and they were free. A wave of relief washed through Silvia's mind; a tiny piece of loss was mingled in it, but she tried to ignore that. With a sigh she turned half away and, with her back to the wall, slid down to the floor. Viola did the same beside her. For a long time the two women sat in the shower tub, cradling their legs to their bodies. They sat silently while the hot water rushed over their beautiful skin.
Somehow their positions had shifted, and the sides of their upper arms were touching lightly, both seemed not to be ready to be without body contact with each other. But both would fiercely deny it if the other had mentioned it.
And then more memories came back to Silvia. She remembered sex. She remembered the feeling in her crotch when it had been interlocked with Viola's, how they had rammed clit against clit, again and again. She remembered hate, hunger, and wild longing to bring that beautiful body into ecstasy.
She remembered the pain in her nipples when they had been pressed mercilessly tip to tip against their equal counterparts.
She remembered the feral snarl on Viola's sweat-covered face just millimeters in front of her own.
She remembered how the growing orgasm became unbearable to hold back, but she did. She remembered the terrible fear to come first, the incredible desire to bring the other woman over the edge first, and the simple, primal need to let the orgasm come. But she held it back. She remembered pressing her overstimulated flesh even harder against Viola's. The other woman had reacted by ramming her lips against Silvia's. Their tongues clashed together wet and feverishly. They had more wrestled than really kissed, while their tongues had rubbed all over each other. Their wide open eyes had stared deep into the other ones, their glances full of inexpressible emotions. Their eyes were so near that their eyelashes had interlocked.
Then the dance on the razor's edge became too much.
All movement had stopped. Neither could hold it back any longer, but still both did.
Their bodies had proven themselves equal, but with iron wills both still refused to accept it. Clits, nipples, and tongues were pressed tip to tip. Seconds became eternities. Tears formed in their wide open, unblinking eyes, mingled, and rolled down, mixing with sweat and spittle on the way to their chins.
And then. Explosion. Both had screamed on top of their lungs. They had clawed their fingernails deep into the other's back for support, shaking and quivering, their perfect bodies had erupted into a colossal, mutual orgasm.
The memory was mingled with a feeling of deepest satisfaction and exhaustion on a bodily level, but unbearable dissatisfaction and rage in her mind. Silvia was confused at first, what was the meaning of these feelings? Then she understood.
She glanced sideways at Viola and whispered:
"We did not have sex with each other, am I right?"
Viola slowly shook her head. "No, we had sex against each other, baby."
"I can remember our orgasm. Wow. Just wow."
"Yeah, but we came together. I can't believe we stopped there."
Silvia concentrated very hard. Had this been the end? She knew now how much she had wanted to make this woman come first. A mutual orgasm could not have been the end.
Silvia tried very hard to remember what had happened next. She glanced sideways at Viola and saw that the blonde stared blankly into the room while chewing her lower lip, thinking very hard.
And then one final memory came back. Silvia remembered how she had crawled back into the embrace of Viola. She had wrapped her sore arms around the burning, sweaty skin of the blonde; again their bodies were mashed together, again their labia had touched and entwined each other… and everything beyond that point was pitch black. Silvia could not remember anything else from last night.
After some time Silvia admitted, "I know we started again, but…"
"…the end is lost," Viola finished for her.
The two women turned their faces towards each other and looked deep into the other's eyes.
"We fought like hellcats, and don't know who won it," Viola said frustratedly.
"That's not right," Silvia answered, and with a wicked smile she added, "we need to know, bitch."
Viola grinned back. "Absolutely, slut."
Together they stood up. Still grinning broadly, they gripped each other's fingers and turned the shower off.
Hand in hand they walked towards the bed again.
