The Best Day Ever

”Mmm. I like to think I’m handy.” Mariah nodded along in mute agreement. ”Though I might knock on wood, if I were you. Bubbles isn’t big on boundaries, either, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t lines even she wouldn’t cross.” She took a moment to ponder, before an example occurred. “When she first came in, they wanted to have her doing these silly kawaii squash matches, taking on little girls with no challenge. Bubbles doesn’t care if she wins or loses, but she doesn’t want it to be easy, either way.”

Mariah wouldn’t have had any trouble going on to explain more, but it seemed like Faheema was growing restless - being naked and near a woman you’d had an extreme sexual experience with7 could do that to a person, she supposed. Without a word, she stood, careful to not make too much noise as her chair scrapped along the floor, and followed after their guest into the bedroom. For the moment, they were quiet enough to not disturb Bubbles. Whether they’d stay that way or not remained to be seen.

She eyed Faheema’s hair warily when she started scratching it, wondering just how long this woman had gone without a proper cleaning. Lice? A possibility. There was certainly enough hair for it. Before she could contemplate that too much, however, something the Nubian said caught her attention. ”Handicap matches?” She said, her inflection rising an idea occurred to her. ”Hm. That actually gives me an interesting idea.”

One that she made a point of not elaborating on, wanting to build a little suspense in Faheema’s mind beforehand. She laid that thought to the side along with her clothes, and stepped inside the shower stall with Faheema.

Down came the water, hot and steamy. Down came Faheema, hot and steamy. It was impossible to not enjoy the feel of domination, having this wild woman, this living force of destruction, on her knees before her in supplication. A raw thrill, and one she intended to fully take advantage of.

Standing before Faheem in all her naked splendor, she reached over, grabbed a bottle of honeyed shampoo off the shelf, and filled her hand with it until it was leaking through her finger. A little rubbing, a little thought, and then she went to work.

Mariah’s fingers ran through Faheema’s curls, exploring the dense, dark jungle of her scalp. Her fingers scratched along the skin, massaging it, not hard enough to hurt, but with enough force to get at the grime and scrape it away. She was rough, but firm. Tense, but thorough. ”God, I love your hair.” She gave it a good, quick tug, just to admire the strength of her strands. ”How does it feel?”

Faheema disregarded Mariah's warning, and the example that she gave. Interesting point, to be reminded that she might be asked by the managers to fight someone that was clearly too weak for her...but while the thought may have bothered Bubbles, it didn't faze the Nubian. Granted, she preferred to be on the receiving end of unfair odds, if only because she had the experience to deal with it, but the world wasn't a fair place, and she wasn't afraid to teach that lesson to others.

Mariah didn't need to explain her “idea” for Faheema to grow suspicious about her intentions. The last time this clever woman had hatched a plan, it had led to Faheema being locked in a prisoner of war stipulation with her mammoth of a wife...not that the Nubian was complaining about any of it now that she had the benefit of hindsight. Having just mentioned her fondness for matches against multiple opponents, no doubt Mariah was thinking of scratching that itch with the help of her wife.

Unknown to Mariah, however, Faheema had some plans of her own for how to enjoy time at the gym. When and if that time came, maybe Mariah and her could put their heads together to concoct a take on wrestling practice that all three of them would enjoy.

Mariah was looking pretty pleased with herself right now, and Faheema understood why. The often defiant Nubian had been spending a lot of time on her knees lately, though never without good reason – sexual gratification, or in this case, Mariah's help untangling her mangy hair. She was so very tempted to find a way to reassert herself over the smaller woman, but the studded collar still hugging the soft skin of her neck made her apprehensive of defying the wife of the still sleeping goddess, Bubbles.

Due to her country of origin, Faheema had been checked for parasites of all kinds, including lice, to qualify for employment as a wrestler. She had come up clean, with the Friction nurse memorably remarking that nothing could survive in Faheema's matted curls. All Mariah would find in her hair were flecks of dirt that fell from her head and hit the shower floor as Mariah's fingers evicted the filth. It was an uplifting experience for Faheema, who felt a little stretch of her troubled past washing away with the Egyptian soil that had clung to her for so long.

“Nnnn...I'm in heaven,” Faheema murmured as the sweet scent of the shampoo filled her nostrils. Grabbing a bar of soap sitting near the shower's edge, Faheema pressed it to Mariah's smooth stomach and started massaging in circles, coming closer to her breasts with each rotation without touching them just yet.

“I could never be this thorough back home. No running water made bathing a pain no matter how you tried to go at it. You could wash yourself in the nearest river and run the risk of catching a river parasite, as my mother did,” Faheema remarked with an eyebrow raised at Mariah, “or haul heavy water containers all the way back to the village to have the water boiled. Much of my constitution came from doing just that, walking up and down the Savannah.”

While Mariah would never say it out loud for fear of insult and for just how weird an idea it was in general, she could secretly admit that she always loved the way black hair fell in her fingers, far than with most white people’s. The natural curls appealed to her, she supposed. The way they tickled her fingers when she tried to run her fingers through them. The strength. The bounce. The whole look. Faheema would’ve hated the thought, but she was reminded of all the countless hours she spent with her dolls as a child, getting their hair just right, making sure it had the proper balance on all sides…

The things she could do with Faheema’s hair if she just had a solid hour or two. Alas, it was a thought for another time.

For now, she worried her hand about Faheema’s scalp, massaging it, combing it, using her nails scratch away any stubborn flecks and reveal the untamed beauty underneath. The water beneath them with dirtying up, mixed with drops of mud from places Mariah had never been and never would be, going right down the drain.

To Faheema’s credit, she wasn’t content to sit back and let herself be done unto, as some would. No, she gave as good as she got, lathering up Mariah’s chest, building anticipation with every turn. She cooed at the touch, resisted to the urge to lose herself to it. She was in control of this situation, after all. Ostensibly.

Mariah gave Faheema a playful slap at the mention of the ‘river parasite’, so soft that it would be hard to see it as a step too far. ”It certainly looks like it all paid off. Your body is art.” She dug her fingers in deep, rubbing the sides of the Nubian’s temple with a slow, rhythmic motion. Faheema was rubbing the good spots now, too, and her hips began to sway without even thinking, pushing against her hand, as if her body itself desired all the pleasure it could find.

”I’m curious about this village, though.” With most of the grime in Faheema’s hair spilling out, Mariah started to turn around, showing her back to the wild woman and giving her some more enticing targets to choose from. ”What was life there? I’ve seen pictures, but that’s nothing compared to the real experience.”

Faheema just chuckled when Mariah slapped her. Last night, she had asked Faheema what a “river parasite” even was, and now she knew. Small creatures, they were, but insidious and capable of great harm if one wasn't mindful of their presence. Exactly how the Nubian had felt about Mariah after laying eyes on her for the first time. She was rarely so happy to have her assumptions proven wrong.

Before Mariah turned away, Faheema gave her breasts a short massage with the bar of soap, no longer teasing them. She guided the warm, soft block in a fast slide around one of Mariah's breasts, pressing with enough force to jostle the mound and sliding the bar of soap up and down her cleavage for good measure. With her free hand lathered up, Faheema groped her host's other breast, squeezing it with her fingers as she distributed the bubbling suds over it.

“Growing up, my village was a safe haven. It was isolated, which meant less contact with the perpetual bloodshed the country is known for. A lot of hard work goes into keeping the little community livable, but the frustration paid off with a small, peaceful life where everyone you knew was your family. It's the only part of my former life that I miss.” While she talked, the Nubian started rolling the bar of soap up and down Mariah's back, with the force of a rolling pin molding a lump of dough.

“When I got older, though, I found out that most women who grew up there would be destined for arranged marriage, usually to some older man that could pay the village the highest dowry. I may have even accepted it, if they had been able to offer me a woman my age...or a few years older,” Faheema finished the sentence with a sultry growl, leaning forward to lick the small of Mariah's back. Bubbles and her wife were both older than Faheema, even more so than she realized, but they didn't look like it or act like it. Both of them were as lively as any women that their guest had ever known.

“No...marrying other women was a right that I didn't have in Sudan, either. I worried as a teenager that my parents would force me to marry a man, but they never did. My mom had escaped an arranged marriage in northern Sudan, and my father had been the one to help her escape, and saw what it had done to her. They promised that I would never share my mother's fate, but I had to keep my forbidden desires hidden from everyone else.”

Faheema gave an exasperated sigh that beat against Mariah's backside. She should have refrained from burdening Mariah with her past, but Mariah's was a sympathetic ear, a woman who knew how wonderful life could be when she was free to live it on her terms. It felt good to share stories with her.

With her hands sliding down Mariah's back, Faheema found the energy to smile as her coarse fingers seized the pale woman's butt, groping her hard and moving her hands in circles to rub soap on the supple skin. “I don't think my parents would have approved of me holding the ass of a married stranger, but they did want me to be free, and I so enjoy it when you share your body,” Faheema chirped, recapturing the joy that came with the start of this day the women would share together. Her hands dove down to quickly scrub Mariah's legs and feet, finishing her cleaning with haste.

”Yes.” Mariah let out a long, lusty sigh as Faheema went to work on her chest, cleaning every delicate inch, even going to the areas that her own wife missed, on occasion. ”God, yes.”

For someone who rarely ever bathed and even rarer bathed with other women, the Nubian was indisputably adept in the shower stall, a commanding, sensual presence. Mariah and Bubbles often took showers together, but the Virgin Killer most often got too wrapped up in the sexual aspects to get any real cleaning done.

Not so with this woman. Faheema exercised both form and function, genuinely cleaning her body, even as she tempted her with unrivaled pleasure. Those hands on her breasts were groping and squeezing and teasing and testing, yes, but they were also cleaning and wiping away all the sweat and stains she’d built up from a night of hectic fucking. And, what was more, she made good conversation along the way, something else that Bubbles struggled with once the mood took hold.

It was hard to imagine that the woman caressing her now, the woman keeping her on the edge of passion, and the woman who’d take her wife to the limit last night, was, at one point, just some cute little girl in a small village, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Even harder to picture her settling down into some arranged marriage. ”There were smart to give you that freedom. You don’t strike me as the sort of woman to ever really ‘settle down’, in any real sense.” She bit her lip to keep a moan in, as  Faheema’s strong hands hit on a few tender nerves in her lower back.

It felt divine, so much so that Mariah could’ve drifted off in the pleasure, and she very well might have - if not for a sudden groping on her butt, a squeeze that made her yelp in pleasure and surprise. She looked over her shoulder and stared at Faheema with a mischievous glint, a playful smile, and a slight lick of the lips.

”Well.” She started to walk backwards, pushing her ass against Faheema’s sex,nudging her back, back, and back until they were at the wall of the show, no place to go. ”It’s a good thing your parents aren’t here, then.” She began to grind against the Nubian’s pussy, rolling against, it, letting her cheeks press the supple skin. All the while, her back pressed against her breasts and made mushroomed them, as her hands reached  around and slid over Faheema’s sides, just enjoying the touch.

”I think we’re going to be doing a lot of things they’d disapprove of.”

“Don't be so certain,” Faheema hummed as she stood up, her moist, dark skin glistening in the light of the shower. Somehow, Mariah had worked wonders on the Nubian's hair. It was more than clean; it felt lighter than it had before, and Faheema found that her fingers could brush through it without getting stuck in the tangled curls. On a physical and emotional level, Faheema felt a small burden lifted from her.

“I can't change who I'm attracted to, but I never wanted to live the life of a drifter. I miss the feeling of safety that came with community. One day, I want to recapture the life that I lost in Sudan, to make new friends and start a family. I want to settle down, as my parents did...just as long as I get to choose who I settle down with.”

Until that day came, however, Faheema was happy to live the life of carnal pleasure that Bubbles and Mariah had roped her into. The Nubian hadn't expected Mariah to respond to her touch with an act of escalation, but here she was, gasping in surprise as Mariah forced her back until she was pinned against the shower wall. It wasn't an unwelcome development, far from it, but it always embarrassed her a little to underestimate how bold and devious Mariah could be.

“Oh dear,” Faheema sighed in surprise when Mariah started using her butt to massage her captive's sex. As nice as it had felt in Faheema's hands, the sensation of every curve as Mariah gyrated against Faheema's lap was enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head, biting her lip to keep the moans from growing too loud. Feeling bewildered by the treatment, Faheema's instincts took over her. She spread her legs until both of her feet were braced against the sides of the shower, and her arms coiled around Mariah's body, just beneath her breasts, giving her an affectionate squeeze and keeping their bodies close as Mariah's hands started caressing her.

“Hngh, I look forward to our day of sin together,” Faheema whispered into Mariah's ear, before her face started sliding down to begin kissing around Mariah's neck. She didn't want to be free from the warmth of the embrace, but a question invaded her mind that she felt the need to share. “Should we wake your wife from her slumber?” the Nubian's raspy voice echoed, as she wondered if the bigger woman would feel left out.

Mariah wasn’t the least bit surprised when Faheema accepted her thrusting hips, letting her drive her across the shower stall with nothing but teasing thrusts and gentle pushes. It was a weird thing to see from the outside, she had to imagine - while the Nubian wasn’t as big as Bubbles, she was still bigger than Mariah, more well built, more muscle on display. That’s what made it all so enticing.

Sinewy arms wrapped around her chest, pulling them so close that, if not for the stark difference of skin color, it would’ve been difficult to tell where their bodies began and ended. Lips on her neck were quick to follow, suckling at her skin, peppering her with light kisses that were somehow hotter than steaming water itself. Mariah reached behind her and sank her nails into Faheema’s hardened ass, digging her nails in as tight as they could.

That was when Faheema asked a poignant question: should they bring Bubbles in? It was tempting, surely, and a part of her wanted to do it, but another part had other ideas.

”I say...no.” Mariah spun around in Faheema’s grasp, pressing their bodies against each other as she turned, letting them rub and slide in a way that could only happened when they were so soaked. She stopped when they were face to face, and from there she pushed forward, letting their nether lips kiss while their upper were only a couple of inches apart, and their breasts mingled in the middle.

”That would require us to stop and move apart and wait, things I’m not up for right now. Let’s finish this.” She began push her hips forward, pressing their sexes together, enjoying the wet warmth of each touch. ”Besides, if she gets angry, I’m sure we can think of some ways to make it up to her.”

Faheema didn't care that she was letting a slighter woman take control of her, at least not in this setting. As a warrior, the African exile had enormous confidence in herself. Mariah had casually mentioned last night that she was a former wrestler, and even suggested that she might be able to give Faheema a run for her money. Deep down, however, Faheema knew that she was wrong, and she had half a mind to prove it when they visited the gym later that day.

That was Faheema as a fighter, though. As a lover, in the privacy of this shower, Faheema was just a humble student, and Mariah was her master. She and Bubbles both had the confidence in their sexuality that their new acquaintance was still growing into. Plus they were both charismatic and so very skilled at making a woman's body sing, and Faheema would need to pick up those qualities if she ever hoped to marry a woman herself.

Moving apart and waiting was an unbearable thought to Faheema as well, who realized how much she wanted the married woman's body to stay glued to hers when she parted their hips for the single moment it took to turn around and face her. When she pushed into the Nubian again, however, the euphoria that washed over her was even greater than before. This was another first for her, feeling the touch of a woman's pussy lips against her own. Every fold of Mariah's sex massaged her with every movement she made, and the tremors it sent through her had her eyes rolling back in her skull.

“Hnnh, Mariah, what spell are you casting over me?” Faheema sighed, head rolling back against the hot shower tiles. Her eyes were shut tight as she focused on the sensation of Mariah's warm body melting into hers. Her own hips started rocking back and forth as she matched Mariah's determination to grind her partner's sex into submission. One arm remained coiled around Mariah's torso while the other started sliding up her back to grasp her hair. With a rough tug down, she forced Mariah to tilt her head up so she could press their lips together just as firmly above as they were down below.

This was Faheema’s first time experiencing sex like this. Mariah could tell, and it wasn’t just based on the clues she’d picked up earlier. She could see it in the way that the Nubian moved, the way she responded to certain things, could even feel it in the rapid-fire beat of her heart, going crazy as she pressed forward and mashed their bodies together. And Mariah made sure to press hard.

One of the reason she loved Bubbles so much was the muscles, and she’d come to lust for the way they felt against her skin. Such was the same here, just on a smaller, but no less potent scale. When she thrusted against Faheema, she was presented with an unyielding wall, solid and ungiving, yet somehow responsive to her every touch and caress. It was like she’d learned how to control some wild tiger, a dangerous beast that could burst forth at any time to tear her apart...but that wasn’t going to happen. Not so long as she kept the pleasure coming.

”A spell?” It was getting hard for Mariah herself to speak now, as the relentless pleasure threatened to overcome her own mind and drive her into fueled, fucking state. ”No magic, here. Just chemistry. Action and...” She had a pleasing hiss as her hair was yanked and her head was brought forward. She fought it, just a little wanting to make Faheema work hard for her meal. ”...reaction.”

She nibbled at Faheema’s lower lip before she took the full kiss. Her fingers dug into the wild woman’s skin like tiny daggers, mixing more pain into the pleasure, as her tongue reached out and vyed for dominance inside her new lover’s mouth. Breathing was hard, and with the water going into her nostrils there was a real threat of suffocation...but she didn’t care. Couldn't’ care. All that mattered was kissing Faheema, thrusting against her, bringing them to the promised land.

Moans flowed through their bodies now, as each push brought them higher. Mariah could feel the familiar tingling, knew that she would burst in mere moments, and the only question was whether or not her dam would break before Faheema’s came spilling forth.

Mariah was a spirited woman. She wasn't intimidating on the surface the way Faheema was, but she had every ounce of defiance that had defined the Nubian's life from her teenage years onward. The twitching of Mariah's muscles as she struggled against Faheema's hold on her hair stirred almost as much arousal in the latter's heart as the steadily escalating pressure from Mariah's grinding.

Faheema grinned as Mariah bit her lip, snapping her teeth at the woman in a teasing manner before allowing Mariah to explore her mouth as she pleased. The ivory beauty wouldn't have to worry about suffocation for long, not when she was working Faheema up so thoroughly. The nails digging into her back brought Faheema to a heightened state of awareness, with all her muscles shuddering reflexively in response to what felt like part of an assault.

“Hmm...mnh!” Faheema's moans hit a higher pitch as the taste of Mariah's mouth intoxicated her. She kept the kiss rough but playful, sliding her tongue up and down past Mariah's, and continued to undulate her body with as much enthusiasm as her counterpart was putting up. Electricity was surging through her hips up and down from her neck to her legs, and as Mariah cranked up the voltage, her dripping pussy finally gave out.

“God yes, fuck me Mariah, ahhh!” the Nubian shouted, trying but failing to keep herself quiet as a rush of warm honey splashed from her sex onto Mariah's, Faheema holding her tight, unable to relax her muscles to give the smaller woman any room to breathe. Despite how sensitive Faheema was now thanks to her orgasm, she kept grinding as hard as she could, determined to help Mariah reach the zenith of her arousal with haste.

When Mariah finally came and both women settled, though, Faheema's exhaustion would catch up with her. Slowly, her back started sliding down the shower wall, until the African woman came to rest on her knees, humming to herself as she took a moment to relax.