The Best Day Ever

”African honeybee?” Bubbles raised an eyebrow at Faheema’s interesting analogy. ”That’s a thing?”

”Huh? Oh, yeah.” Mariah managed to break away from panting in heat long enough to get that smart-alecky tone in her voice, the one she liked to bust out whenever she played the know-it-all. ”Bees are on every continent, except for oh fuck.”

She’d been trying to resist Faheema for a moment there, but like a dam bursting with raging waters, that was only going to work for so long. The Nubian’s grip on her breast kept tightening and tightening, hurting more and more, but a good hurt. The answer to Faheema’s unspoken question was  simple one: damn rough. With Bubbles taking her on a regular basis, she’d become accustomed to it, and now Faheema was giving her a sublime version.  

She welcome the hand at her breast, and she welcomed the fingers at her sex even more, as she thrusted into them with frenzied pumps. The truth was that, while she’d been resisting somewhat, it mostly stemmed from a desire to not finish embarrassingly quick. She’d watched her wife fight and fuck Faheema in the ring, then stood by as they got it  on in the shower. Her fuse had been lit for a while now. The sizzling temptress behind her was merely speeding it along.

But all things had their limits, and Mariah was no exception. She was reaching her climax now, as her moans grew louder and longer. ”Faheema, you-” She tried to form words, say something clever, but failed utterly. All that came out of her mouth was a thin line of drool, steamy breaths, and three syllables. ”Faheema.”

Without even knowing that Mariah was holding out on her, Faheema gathered that she would be squirting before too long. Her fingers were getting drenched in a generous coating of the adorable woman's juices, and the passion in her voice was unmistakable. Her Nile was close to flooding, and her Nubian attendant wanted to use all the intervening time to leave an impression on her. Chiefly, her loving attention to the many details of Mariah's womanhood...

After honking Mariah's left breast a couple times, her free hand started gliding down to join the other one. She had run out of ideas involving her tits, but there was another little bud of flesh on her body that needed attention. Feeling around the outside of Mariah's crotch, she found the clitoris and started bullying it around with her fingers. Pushing down on it, flicking it, tickling it, pinching it. The rosebud was a wonderful little part of the female anatomy, and Mariah's would receive every treatment that her Nubian friend could think to give.

Burying her other hand up to the knuckles in Mariah's sopping passage, she stopped pumping for a moment, to exercise a little creativity. Deep inside, she started rooting around with her two fingers, curling them to give the inner walls a nice caress and reach the remotest points she could. Wiggling the two digits in opposite directions, up and down, side to side, stretching and massaging the sensitive tube.

There was little method to the madness. Faheema was a curious young woman, and she wanted to feel every surface and explore every cavity inside the Virgin Killer's wife. With fingers calloused from decades of intense physical labor, she was giving Mariah's snatch the best massage she was capable of. Once her curiosity was spent, however, Faheema decided to bring the show to its conclusion. She lined her fingers up and started pumping again, as fast and deep as she could, even twisting them back and forth a little as she did.

“Ya amar, Mariah,” she whispered, chuckling softly as she spoke an Arabic phrase that she knew Mariah wouldn't understand. Only the husky tone could clue her in to its possible meaning. The words were, in fact, a foreign translation of the same phrase that Bubbles had used to serenade Faheema before fucking her in the ring: you're beautiful.

“Now,” Faheema kissed the side of Mariah's neck a couple of times, before licking from her neck up to her ear, “cum for me.”

Like a raging river? No. Water wasn’t the right element.

A balloon, ready to burst? No, too simple. Too quick.

A volcano, preparing to erupt? Yes, that was perfect.

Mariah was a volcano on the cusp of eruption, driven wild as Faheema controlled her every nerve. She could hardly picture a more apt analogy, either. There was nothing else that described the raw heat she was feeling and the slow burn that it had taken her to get there. The Nubian had a way of running her fingers, almost as if she more eager to explore than anything else.

It made her movements sloppy, but that worked in her favor, in some, small way - whether she meant to it or not, she was driving Mariah insane with anticipation. Anytime she felt herself close to the edge, Faheema would swerve away and save her from the cliff. Only she didn’t want to be saved. She wanted to go careening off it at a 100 MPH, and end it all in a glorious, fiery crash. The way it was meant to be.

Soon enough, she got her wish, as Faheema hunkered down and concentrated on taking her to the limit, jackhammering her fingers into Mariah’s eager pussy. Each downward thrust was met with an upward push, as Mariah did her part to help the effort along. At this rate, the climax was inevitable. It was just a matter of how soon.

When Faheema whispered into her ear, though, that was the final straw. She didn’t have a clue what the Nubian was saying, and it didn’t much matter. For all she knew, it was another word for ‘river parasite’. She didn’t care. It wasn’t the words that matter, but the way she said them. The dark, heated cadence was more than enough.

The dam broke, the lightning crack, the floodgates poured out. Mariah came and came and came, gushing out over the bed in with spurts. She shrieked as the pleasure tore through her, setting her nerves on fire and leaving her a spasming mess. She flopped back, leaning against Faheema, before eventually falling forward and dropping to lay flat on her chest. Barely breathing and fucked out of her mind.

From behind, Faheema could hear a soft clap, as Bubbles applauded the display. She sat on the couch stretched out, with one finger idly stroking her sex.  That display had done the job perfectly, getting the two of them heated up while Mariah got what she deserved. Perfect.

But now it was time to get to the meat of things. ”Come here and drop to your knees.” There was sternness in Bubbles’ voice - not commanding, but strict, the same tone a teacher might reserve for her unruly 1st grader. She began to sit up on the chair and pulled out an item she’d kept tucked behind her: a studded collar. It wasn’t hard to imagine who it belonged to. ”Let’s have a talk. Quick one. Establish the roles."

Perhaps Mariah was better described this moment as an erupting volcano. It certainly felt that way as a hot, turbulent jet of viscous magma sloshed around her fingers, bursting out of Mariah's sex in spurts that never seemed quite ready to end. The sensation made Faheema gasp audibly as the forceful blast of liquid nearly pushed her fingers out, like a cork popping off of a champagne bottle. Withdrawing her fingers now wouldn't suffice for either woman, however. No, Faheema kept pumping, forcing the tips of her fingers back and forth to take Mariah for every drop that she could give.

“Wonderful,” Faheema huffed as Mariah leaned back into her. The Nubian withdrew her fingers slowly, scratching and teasing Mariah's sensitive sex all the way out, until she finally fell forward, understandably exhausted. Getting her hands on Mariah for a little rough treatment had left Faheema feeling powerful, but the rather patronizing applause echoing from behind her was a sign that Bubbles wanted her authority back.

She had another toy to help make her point, as well. A collar...

Faheema wanted to play hard to get, in the literal sense of making Bubbles catch her before snapping that demeaning trinket into place, but damn if she didn't find it hard to refuse that voice. The suggestive demand that Faheema kneel before Bubbles, backed by the latter's confidence and strength, made the Nubian's heart race. Her nerves started tingling, and it was a struggle to keep a broad smile from hitting her lips.

No, Faheema was going to do as she was told...this time. Wearing a collar for Bubbles was something that she could easily live with, and she wanted to hear more of the giant's domineering voice. Inescapably entranced, Faheema crossed the distance between them slowly but without hesitation, and stood before the seated Bubbles. Apprehension gripped her, keeping her on two feet for a moment, but the expectant glare coming from those intense eyes drained her of strength, until gravity succeeded in dragging the dusky woman down to her knees.

“H-how many of those weird little toys do you have?” Faheema asked with some genuine timidity in her voice. The position made her feel even smaller than she was in comparison to Bubbles, and the thrill of being held in her sway was otherworldly. Kneeling in front of a conqueror had no business being this much fun, but when the conquerors were as beautiful as Bubbles and Mariah, anything was possible.

Not that anyone in their right mind would ever guess it, but Mariah had a strong religious upbringing. Bibles, Sunday School, 10AM-1PM every Sunday, the works. Her parents weren’t exactly open to more liberal interpretations of the scripture, either, so they weren’t very accepting when she came out, and they really weren’t accepting when she decided to have a non-monogamous marriage with Bubbles. Because of that and other boring reasons, her belief were, to put it mildly, lapsed.

But if there was a god, Mariah had to give him - or her - silent thanks as she laid on that bed, basking in the afterglow, drinking in the moment and watching as her wife prepared to lay down the law. It was hard to imagine a moment like this not coming about by divine intervention.

There Bubbles was, sitting in that chair like the queen she was, as Faheema - the beautiful, the dangerous, the conquered - kneeled before her in submission. Her wife was usually so bright and vibrant, and she hadn’t lost that completely. There was still that gleam in her eyes, that gentle look. But there was a firmness there, too, a focus that few saw. Mariah knew it, and know Faheema was knowing it, too.

Eager to watch things unfold, Mariah scooted over to face them, letting a lazy arm drape over the edge as she waited. ”Ya amar.” She sighed the word out, one final time. ”Ya amar.””

Aside from a quick glance and a shush, Bubbles paid her wife little head, instead focusing solely on the bare beauty before her. Collar in hand, she reached out and opened it up, preparing to wrap it around her throat - but she held off for a moment. Keeping it close, but not putting it on just yet.

”Trust.” As she spoke, she locked eyes with Faheema and made sure her attention never faltered. ”I have all sorts of toys, but this one is the most important. It’s not just a collar, it’s a symbol of the trust we’re about to share. By taking this collar and letting me put it on you, you’re showing that you trust me to control you, to use your body, to dominate you. I beat you in the POW match, so that technically means I don’t have to ask for permission to do anything. But I respect you, Faheema. Too much to really start this without your full consent.”

She placed a gentle hand on Faheema’s chin and lifted her head up, holding it like it was the most precious treasure in the world. ”So tell me you understand. Say you accept my control. Then we begin.”

You're beautiful. Faheema thought the words to herself when her ears picked up the muffled whispering to her side. Her lips parted to speak them aloud, but the scold from Bubbles silenced them both. Instead, the Nubian stared up, meeting a firm gaze with wide eyes that held unmistakable wonder. The ritual being conducted by Bubbles wasn't familiar to her. The collar, in her eyes, was a simple sign of inferiority...but it was more than that. Judging from the brief given by Bubbles, it was very important indeed.

Her body became tense with anticipation when the collar came close, but it hovered in the air before her as Bubbles spoke what felt to Faheema like wedding vows. They weren't, obviously, but the Nubian didn't understand the formality of her consent. All she knew was that she appreciated the detailed approach, the crystal clarity of what Faheema was about to get into. Vague promises and propositions from others had always meant danger to Faheema, but here Bubbles was, openly stating her intention to control and use Faheema, and making her feel comfortable doing it.

It didn't stop her from hesitating, though. When Bubbles lifted her gaze by the chin, Faheema's head started to slip out of her hand as doubt consumed her thoughts. This went against every lesson life had taught her. All the people who had taken advantage of her trust. The abuses of her person too vile to even speak of. The lines on her back.

Silence gripped the room. Extensive and unwelcome, it lingered as Faheema sucked in a deep, uneven breath. Doubting others had become a persistent habit of hers, but for once in her life, her doubts were unreasonable. Bubbles and her wife had been given many opportunities to take advantage of Faheema, or hurt her. They hadn't, at least not outside the scope of the wrestling match. Nearly all of the hostility between them had been instigated by Faheema herself, while Bubbles had done more to provide her the luxury of safety than people she had once called friends.

Thus far, tonight had been an incredible perk of Friction life, and she wasn't going to miss it because of her trust issues. Blushing fiercely, she brought her head forward and placed it back in the palm of Bubbles' outstretched hand, smiling as her lips parted to say the magic words.

“I do...accept your control, that is,” Faheema said, raising her head to expose her neck to the collar. She was still a little disappointed that she would never marry either of these women, because there were no others like them that Faheema had ever met.

Bubbles could be a little thick sometimes, and she’d be the first to admit that she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around Faheema’s upbringing and what exactly she’d been through. But the gravity of the moment wasn’t lost on her, even so. She could tell that trust was something that this woman didn’t give out to anyone, that it was hard won and easily lost. You could probably fit all the women Faheema had ever trusted in a single elevator, and she would’ve taken up quite a bit of that space. This was a sacred thing. It had to be.

With Faheema’s words of acceptance, Bubbles reached around her willing neck and snapped the collar on. She took care to put it on tight, but not too tight. Snug and fit, enough that she wouldn’t be choked, but that it would be a constant reminder with every breath she took.  

After she put it in place, she gave it a little tug to make sure it was secure, then wrapped her hands around Faheema’s neck, nearly circling it with her fingers. It was a move that could’ve been a choke, and Bubbles certainly had enough power to squeeze the life out of her in short order - instead, she turned it into a loving caress, gently rubbing, back and forth.

A stillness took over the room for a moment, as Bubbles savored this instant. It was like living in some wonderful painting, but it had to come to end at some point, and Mariah was the one to do it. ”Kiss her.”

A good idea was a good idea. Bubbles leaned forward and pressed her lips against Faheema for a loving touch, slow and soft and sensuous. Hardly the hottest thing they had ever done, but it was a good way to seal things, to make their unwritten contract official. Now, there was no ambiguity, no questions. Now, they began in earnest.

Bubbles sat straight up and let out a deep, contented sigh, her chest bursting outwards with the deep breath. ”Now,” More of her trademark cheeriness returned, brightening up. Serious mode was good for moments like that, but she would alway return to her default eventually. ”When we were in the shower, you did a good job making up for that damage on my ass with those kisses. I still get a sting every time I sit down, but it’s getting better. You’ve got a mean swing. Haven’t been spanked that hard since...ever, I’d say.”

She looked over to Mariah for a moment, bounced her eyebrows, then brought the focus back to Faheema. Bubbles gave her thighs a quick patting. ”Let’s see if we can do better, huh? Lay across my legs. Ass towards the ceiling.”

With a click and the tightening of leather around her neck, the collar was secure. Testing it by swallowing nervously, Faheema shivered as the descending lump pushed against the accessory on its way down. Tight enough to hug her skin, the collar was disquieting, as were the hands of Bubbles as they settled around her throat.

Could she feel the beat of Faheema's pulse? The thump of a heart beating faster in advance of a potential threat? That was the automatic response to a hulking woman like Bubbles holding her by the neck, but the fear turned to elation when she started caressing Faheema instead. The gentle touch lured her in close, so when Mariah cheerfully demanded the sealing of their deal with a kiss, she was right where she needed to be. A moment shared in the embrace of the Virgin Killer's lips was never wasted, and Faheema leaned in further still to savor her new lover's mouth in earnest.

Easing up as things got back to normal, Faheema smirked at the comment about her spanking. Yes, she was quite skilled in the art of corporal punishment, having come from a land that made a traditional over-the-knee paddling seem infantile. Of course, Bubbles had only brought it up in the context of the inevitable payback, so the Nubian's Cheshire smile only got wider when she was ordered to lay across her lap.

Slowly, she crawled up onto the couch, taking her sweet time to actually get into position. Nearby Mariah had a bird's eye view of the color filling her cheeks, matching the color about to be applied to her...other cheeks. It was a blush reflective of playful excitement, however, not timidity, a distinction that Bubbles and Mariah would soon appreciate.

“Do I have to take my punishment like a good girl?” Faheema batted her eyelashes, smiling innocently as she started bending herself over to lie across Bubbles' sculpted thighs. The warmth of her muscle against Faheema's crotch was soothing, and the Nubian gyrated in place little as she got comfortable. “You can trust me not to lash out in anger, but you can expect me not to surrender to your will without a struggle.”

Bubbles wasn’t going to call her it out loud, not wanting to upset Faheema with the comparison, but it was hard not to think of her as an animal - no, as a beast. Not in terms of intelligence, since she was clearly quite smart in spite of her lack of education. But in all the best ways, she was like a dog - honest and innocent, playful and energetic. When she looked into those eyes after the kiss, she knew this was a woman who didn’t hide anything, and if Bubbles opened up her heart to her, the gesture would be returned.

It made her eager to do things with Faheema, things that didn’t even directly involve sex. For now, that would be enough, but she was already thinking about things they could do after when they woke up and had a whole day ahead of them…

A pleasant thought, but one for another time. More sundry ones were taking precedence, as the Nubian finally moved into position and stretched out across Bubble’s waiting lap. She would’ve thought she was used to the sensation of their skin touching by now, but she learned how wrong she was when the heat from Faheema’s sweaty, sweltering skin pressed down on her. She tensed her muscles where they connected with her pussy, pressing up against it. She could’ve been content to stay like this, just like this, for a good, long while.

But business came first. ”Faheema, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She ran her hands over a cheek, taking a moment to appreciate the fine texture of her dark skin.  ”But it’s not just me you have to worry about.”

As she spoke, Mariah rolled off the bed and moved to her feet, standing up as best she could. The extreme fucking Faheema had inflicted took a toll, but she was solid enough for what was coming next. Mischief played across her face as she looked over to her wife. ”Ready?”

”So ready.”

With a nod, they drew their hands back in unison, took a moment for a effect, then brought them down with swift slaps, both of them targeting an ass cheek to get the maximum amount of coverage. Bubbles blow had more power, but Mariah’s didn’t lack, either, as she threw her entire body behind the blow.

“Oh yes, thank you,” Faheema huffed, thrusting her hips up to entice Bubbles like a red cape fluttering in front of a charging bull. Being in another woman's control was good fun to Faheema, but only when the one holding her leash had the strength and the willingness to enforce that authority. Having her civil disobedience quashed was an important part of the play for her, and being reminded that there were two women ready to mete out discipline made her delirious with anticipation.

“Hmm!” the Nubian sighed, arching her back as a strong hand caressed the sensitive skin of her rear. These two were masters of suspense, and the buildup made their captive squirm in her hot seat. As nice as her moans and nervous fidgeting were, however, the true payoff for the Burste couple came when they launched their opening salvo.

Faheema had expected a powerful strike, but two at once? Never saw it coming. Even with the threat of Mariah getting involved, she had expected the pale beauty to sit out awhile longer. When the stinging blows landed, the emotional and physical reaction was intense.

“Eyaaah!” Faheema squealed, bouncing reflexively like an uncoiled spring. The alarmed holler sounded like it had come from an unruly child, but the blast across her bottom also sent Faheema leaping forward, threatening to remove herself from the lap of her stern disciplinarian. A simple test of Bubbles' ability to keep her in place as the cheerfully naughty girl and her burning ass cheeks tried to flee their punishment.