The Flesh Project

LOVE, DECONSTRUCTED

As April and Mikura lay on Mikura’s bed, the woman’s arms around the child, tight and secure, April couldn’t help but ponder the unique properties of this particular cuddle, how different it was from any of the others she had experienced in her life. She was a very empathetic girl, of course, never afraid of bodily contact, and as such she was well-versed when it came to holding another human being. Indeed, Liz Wilder, at a rare time when she wasn’t too drunk or horny to form a cohesive thought, had once referred to her as “my little hugging expert”.

Being hugged close to Mikura was a new and welcome sensation. The woman’s body was like a giant pillow, buoyant and comfortable, with voluptuous folds and snuggle-spots that seemed to wrap themselves around the younger girl. And she was warm! Heat seemed to radiate from Mikura’s skin, and April giggled as she imagined herself as a giant egg. The bed became a nest, and Mikura the fluffy and soft mother hen responsible for keeping her offspring nice and toasty.

Closing her bright blue eyes, April reflected on the events of the morning. Needing someone to talk to (her mother was hanging around in the medical area adjacent to the infirmary, as usual) April had approached Mikura’s door, wearing a pretty pink dress. Pausing for a moment to calm her nerves, she knocked.

Uncharacteristically, the Mikura had answered by opening her door a crack and poking her head out, looking harried and embarrassed. “Oh dear!” she had said. “Miss April, I’m afraid my apartment is quite a mess. I wouldn’t want you to see it in such a bad way.”

April, undaunted, replied with “That’s ok! I can help you clean!” and the smile that had come over Mikura’s face had been one of relief- as if she had just found a kindred cleaning spirit in a world of dirt. She had invited April in at once.

April had enjoyed having something to take her mind off of Ashley- giving her much older friend a hand with the scrubbing, picking up, and washing. Midway through, they had had to make their way to the supply area to pester the cleaning crew for more sanitation products. April, who had never been to that part of the complex before, was flabbergasted by the sheer amount of detergent, soap, and other cleansers that were stockpiled there. And stain remover! The Flesh Project stocked more stain remover than God. There had been an entire closet filled with it, orange bottles towering high.

Mikura had seemed quite disgraced by some of the work that had to be done- including the removal of vomit from the toilet bowl- and took great pains to explain to her young guest that the offending puke wasn’t hers, but Sarah’s. “Oh, I don’t mind, Miss Mikura,” April had said. It was true. April had been cleaning up her mother’s drunken messes for several years, and on occasions that included wiping up the contents of a vodka-rattled stomach.

After two hours of busy cleaning, the two had managed to return Mikura’s apartment to it’s usual state of spic-and-span cleanness- and the two of them had lain back on the bed, tired and satisfied, inhaling the gentle scent of pine and lemon. Gradually, not sure how Mikura would react, April had shifted closer and closer to her, sliding softly on the bed, feeling her arm brushing against the XL-sized, threadbare T-shirt that the older woman had referred to as her “cleaning shirt”. Then, April had heard a gentle chuckle.

“Oh you!” said Mikura, smiling. “You’re not fooling anyone!” And then she had rolled to the side and hugged April, nuzzling her close, wrapping her arms around the tight warmth of April’s midsection. The young girl could feel the hot softness of Mikura’s body even through the shirt, and the comfortable friction of Mikura’s bare legs sliding against her dress and calves.

Mikura was wearing a navy-blue pair of high-cut athletic shorts (of the type, April thought, that she had seen her mother wear in old high school pictures from the early 1990’s), and her shapely, heavy thighs unfurled from the leg holes like two pink dolphins, beached on the sensible bedspread. April reveled in the hug, pushing back against Mikura, and enfolding her hands over the ones wrapped around her waist. That was how they had come to be laying there, together, content, for the last five minutes.

“I’m worried about my brother,” April said, suddenly. She felt the hug squeeze momentarily tighter, a wordless response. April had related the story of her spying on Ashley, and following him to Lorelai’s room, while she and Mikura were cleaning. When she had reached the description of the events following Setsume’s opening of the door, Mikura had interrupted almost every other sentence with an exclamation of “Oh, goodness!” or “Oh dear!”

“I haven’t seen him today- I think he’s still with that woman,” April continued. “And I don’t like her- she’s mean and nasty and she doesn’t like Miss Setsume, either.”

Mikura clutched April tight. “Poor Ashley,” Mikura said, and then her voice morphed slighty, began to carry a determined register that April had never detected in her words before. “Do you think she hurt him, that woman? I won’t allow children to be hurt!”

April’s thoughts fluttered around her head. She couldn’t find the words to articulate what her mind knew. She knew that Ashley had been searching for something different, some sexual experience beyond their family activities- and that he wanted to experience sex in a different way than the happy-go-lucky method that April (and their mother) employed. No, she didn’t think that Lorelai had hurt Ashley physically.

She thought that, by luring him, and tricking him into doing certain things- she had hurt him in another, less obvious way. But she couldn’t articulate these thoughts, and instead asked a question of the soft hugger at her back.

“Miss Mikura,” she asked, already knowing the answer. “Is good sex about keeping dirty secrets? I don’t see how it can be. I think it’s about love.”

Mikura paused. Then, in her gentle voice, whispered, “It’s involves both, I think, Miss April.” She paused, then added, “But one more than the other. Without special feelings, the naughty little secret means nothing.”

April’s eyes grew determined. “I need to make him understand,” she said. And then she snuggled closer to Mikura. April could feel nipples poking thickly through the white fabric of Mikura’s T-shirt like two fleshy bulbs. She sighed.

And then: “You can call me just April, if you want.”

Mikura exhaled on the back of April’s neck. April shuddered at the feel of her soft, hot breath. “I don’t know, Miss April. I wouldn’t feel right.”

April closed her eyes. Yes it would, she thought. It would too be right. It’d be the most right thing ever.

“You can call me Mikura, if you like,” came the voice at her ear. April snuggled some more, rubbing herself against Mikura’s soft body, feeling the comfort of their two forms nestled together.

“No,” she said. “I think I like calling you-“

(mother)

“-Miss Mikura.”

Mikura stroked a hand through her hair, threading her fingers deftly though April’s dirty-blonde mane. Softly. “Ok then, honey. Ok.”

There was silence for a moment. April could feel that the air in the room was hotter- and the friction of Mikura’s smooth hands against her own was beginning to become somewhat hampered by perspiration.

“They’re making the room hotter,” April said. Her blue eyes shifted up to the ceiling, where a black glass hemisphere was embedded. The camera beneath had undoubtedly been watching them with great interest. “They want to watch us together.”

April put her dainty hands on top of Mikura’s long-fingered ones, and pressed them against her midsection. “What are you thinking about?” she asked. An innocent question, but one that is first in the repertoire of any practiced flirter. Even looking in the opposite direction, the young girl could feel the shy turn of Mikura’s head.

“Oh, I don’t know, Miss April.”

“Do you mind if I take my dress off? I’m getting all sweaty.”

Mikura was silent...but she released her hands from around April’s waist in tacit approval. Wordlessly, April slid her simple pink dress over the top of her head, feeling the material tug against her perspiring frame. Underneath the dress, April was wearing a tiny pink bra. The tiny nubs of her budding tits scarcely made a shape under the cups. Below the waist, her most private parts where covered by little pink panties with a white, letter-bearing heart on the rear (“YAMATO”). In this state of repose her body was a thing of beauty, a sex-child nestled softly in the folds of the bedspread. Lean, with soft, glistening skin of bronze, sun-glazed hair falling about the sides of her head, a sensuous map without many curves- only tiny, secret hints of the woman that would blossom in the coming years. Everywhere were pubescent swells and crevices saying their first fuckable hellos- her ass was a naughty bubble underneath skin-heated panties, the tiny mound of her cunt swelling shyly between golden, hipless thighs.

April rolled to her back, making eye contact with her older friend. Her blue eyes were an ocean, her pink lips, a questing rose, turning toward the sunlight.

“Miss Mikura,” she said. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes,” said Mikura, and the look in her eyes was one of helplessness and reverence. Looking as she did then, if April had asked the same question of the sun, it would have fallen from the sky just to answer, to gaze upon her perfect little face a moment more.

“Are you wet, right now?” she asked, her little voice half-curiosity, half-seduction.

Mikura’s eyes widened a little at the question. “Miss April, I don’t know if- I mean…last time-“

April reached a small hand up to her own face and put a finger to her lips. “Shhh…” she said, softly. “Miss Mikura, please don’t be shy.” April spread her legs a little then, still flat on her back against the bedspread- a pose of calm surrender.

“Look at me,” the young girl continued. “I’m not afraid. I just turned 13, and I’m not scared about how I feel. And if *I* can not be scared, I know an adult can be just as brave.” With April’s thin, smooth legs spread, the triangle of her panties, and the way the fabric slid over her cunt and tucked beautifully down between her legs was clearly visible. Never breaking eye contact with Mikura, she lowered a hand to her pussy and pulled the crotch of the panties aside, allowed the older woman a heartbreaking view of her wet, pink sex.

“Look,” she said again. “Miss Mikura, have you ever felt a 13-year-old down here?” April tugged the fabric of her panties upward with some force, pressing the stretched crotch section into her gash, allowing her wet labia to spill out the sides. “I bet you haven’t. You can touch me, if you want- and I’ll touch you, too.”

Mikura’s eyes were wide as saucers. She seemed to be beyond words, but April knew what was going on. The closer she and Mikura had gotten, the less comfortable Mikura had been with them touching each other.

She wants to play mother, April thought. She saw how my own mother is- how she’s spending all day away, with that Doctor- coming home drunk. That’s why she brought those cookies over that day. That’s why we’re friends! But she can’t make that fit with how we make each other feel when our bodies touch- she’s not like my real mother- she has to have them separate.

The young girl instinctively knew then that she could easily manipulate Mikura into sex- all it would take was for her to bat her eyes and play the helpless little girl, begging for orgasmic release. The thing was, though- she didn’t want to manipulate Miss Mikura. Miss Mikura was so sweet, so nice, that doing it would be wrong. And so April, already so accustomed to making adult decisions in a domain dominated by adults, did so again.

“Miss Mikura,” she said. “We’re friends, right? You make me happy whenever I see you. Please, don’t be afraid. Just be with me. We can make each other feel good.”

April closed her eyes and lay back on the bed, spreading her arms.

Please, April thought. Please, please, please. Your body is like a playground. I love to touch you, and get touched by you. Please. I feel safe with you, and I’ll never judge you or your body harshly.

Please. The word echoed in her little head, a humble request to the sexual gods. And when she felt a soft, beautiful hand touch hers, it was like the light of heaven raining down.

“I really like you too, Miss April,” came the gentle, hesitant voice from above April’s shut eyes. “I left behind- I mean, before I came here…I used to work with children.” April squeezed Mikura’s hand tight, and her heart leapt when the squeeze was returned.

“You’re not like any of the children I’ve known,” Mikura continued. “You’re very special. And I’ve been so lonely since I left them behind. I had to leave, you understand…because of this.” Mikura raised April’s little hand to her chest, guiding the palm to the front of her T-shirt, overtop of the area where a fat, erect nipple had begun to soak the fabric. April could feel the warm wetness against her fingers- and the rising feeling of hope, a voice screaming with joy in her head:

She’s making a decision! She's decided it's ok!

“And this.” Mikura guided April’s hand between her legs, down beneath the waistband of her retro gym shorts, and up against the hot flesh of her thick crotch. It was slick with lubrication. April stuck a thin finger out to caress the molten lips of Mikura’s gash, and gasped as she felt a small jet of hot liquid splash against the skin of her hand. She could feel that the front of Mikura’s shorts had become soaked- and the older woman wasn’t wearing any panties.

“You know, I have felt a 13-year-old before, down there,” Mikura whispered. She ran a hand over April’s leg. “Of course, it was 16 years ago- and I was only touching myself!”

Both females chuckled at that, and April opened her eyes. As Mikura withdrew the young girl’s hand from her cunt-smeared shorts, April rose up to her knees. “Let me touch yours,” said April. “And you can touch mine. See if it brings back any memories.” They shared a playful giggle again, and then Mikura shyly moved a hand to April’s crotch.

"Oh!" she said. "I'm nervous- I feel like I'm back at summer camp!"

April, thrilled that things were moving forward, moved her hand back down to the waistband of Mikura’s shorts, delving for the prize therein. She gasped as she felt fingers pressing into her pussy through the pink fabric of her panties.

“Ooh! That feels good!”

Mikura pressured a thumb vertically across the front of her panties, and April cooed again, before moving closer and reaching all the way down to use her own hand in a similar way, running two fingers through the slick, wet folds of Mikura’s cunt. The older woman responded by moving her fingers to the interior of April’s pink panties. The tiny blonde was glad of the fact that Mikura’s fingernails were sensibly kept, a far cry from the long and extravagant nails her mother preferred. She fixed Mikura with a desperate, fuck-struck gaze as she felt a long finger slip inside her tight teenage cunt.

“Oh, Miss April- you’re very tight!” said Mikura, her voice lowered to a lover’s throaty gasp. “You’re so small and smooth down here!” April’s eyes were wide and erotically charged, the eyes of someone who doesn’t quite believe the sensations she is experiencing. She pressed closer to Mikura’s body, rubbing her downy cheek against the older woman’s face, marveling at the length and beauty of Mikura’s swan-like neck.

“Yes, it’s tight,” she whispered to Mikura. “And I like the feel of you in there. Watch out, or I’ll come all over your hand!” As she said this, she slipped two of her own small fingers into Mikura’s molten pussy, and found herself in disbelief.

“Oh my god!” April exclaimed, washing Mikura’s ear in hot, gasping breath. “You’re so wet and hot inside!” It was true- the feeling surrounding April’s fingers was akin to a sticking two digits in a bubbling pot of honey that had just come out of the microwave. She thought crazily that it might burn her hand.

“Oooh!” Mikura exclaimed. There was a muffled gurgle, and April felt a cascade of liquid drip down her cunt-rutting fingers. “Oh my!” Mikura dropped her off-hand to her own crotch, and guided April’s tiny thumb to her huge, unhooded clit, a nearly two-inch nub poking jauntily out above the drenched hole of her vagina. April gasped again.

“Feel that, honey” Mikura gasped. “That’s something a 13-year-old doesn’t have.” April did, running her practiced thumb in circles around the engorged extrusion of flesh, feeling the quivering heat of it, fingering the wet, slick flaps of the castoff clitoral hood, flicking it, alternatively putting pressure on it and letting off. Mikura gasped and moaned all the while.

“It’s so big! It’s five times the size of mine!” April gasped in Mikura’s ear, shuddering as the older woman’s own deft touch reached her tiny, pea-shaped clit.

“Miss April, do you like it?”

“I love it. I want to put it in my mouth. I want to suck on it, like I would a cock.”

“Oh, Miss April! The things you say!”

April began to thrust her pelvis against Mikura’s hand, and drove the fingers she had buried in Mikura’s pussy upward against the fat, fleshy G-Spot on the inside. As she leaned inward, she felt the wetness of Mikura’s milk-soaked T-shirt sliding against her bra-wrapped barely-teen titflesh.

“Make me cum!” she seethed in Mikura’s ear. “I’m going to cum! God, your pussy is so hot, it’s burning my hand!” April’s hand was almost enfolded in a hot, fleshy mass of slick and squelching cuntflesh, and the sounds that were issuing from those depths were pornographic- irregular and nasty bursts of liquid background noise.

“You’re going to break my fingers, you’re so tight!” Mikura gasped. “How do men ever put themselves inside you?” All at once, Mikura jammed a thumb down on April’s clit, vibrating it like joy buzzer, and twiddled her index and middle fingers upward, caressing the young girl’s G-Spot. Meanwhile, April began to rub her thumb up and down Mikura’s erect clit, masturbating it like a miniature penis. They were like two masters comparing styles of fuck fu- and while Mikura wondered how April could be so talented at such a young age, April was surprised at how peerless Mikura seemed to be at, well, everything.

“Oh god!” Mikura exclaimed. “Aaaaaaagh!” April felt a spray of lube batter her inserted fingers even as her own orgasm took her into jittering spasms. Eyes closed, she bared perfect, white teeth against pink lips as she groaned into Mikura’s ear in high-pitched, naughty orgasm-speak.

“Fucking finger fuck my little cunt!” she groaned, getting heated with each forbidden fuckword and the feelings such language always brought along for the ride. “Fuck, yes!” Her free hand clutched desperately at Mikura’s wrist, pulling it hard against her. Her cunt was in the throes of a powerful orgasm, a guiltless and wonderful orgasm- and she could tell her partner was cumming as well, her voluptuous body trembling and jiggling.

When it had subsided somewhat, the two females regarded each other, puffing like marathon runners, face to face, exhalations dueling in between sweat-beaded faces, hot breath brushing against lips and cheeks. The air of the room was ripe with deep gasps.

Wordlessly, April raised her slick right hand to her face, slowly spreading it and watching with one wide, blue eye as sticky, cloudy-white bridges of fucklube spiderwebbed out between her tan fingers. She shifted her eyes to Mikura, and then ran her tongue along the webbing between her third and fourth digits, collecting fluid on her pink tongue, and bringing it to her mouth with a smack of the lips.

“I like the way you taste,” she said. “And you squirt so much! Your body is amazing!” She moved the cream-coated hand toward Mikura’s face. “Taste yourself.”

Mikura closed her eyes, and snaked out her tongue- thin, sensuous, and almost impossibly long, and began licking a different area between April’s fingers, drinking in the flavor of her own sopping sex. At the same time, she extended her own fingers toward April, offering her partner a taste of her own pussy. April eagerly sucked the length of them into her hot mouth.

“Mmm,” said the young girl. She withdrew her mouth from the fingers and brought a hand up to the front of Mikura’s T-shirt. There two large, lewd stains running down the front, swirls of yellow-tinged whiteness that started at each tent-forming nipple and spread like saucers before dripping down the front. The logo stretched over her breasts was a unicorn- and it looked like both the front and back of the animal had sprung a leak.

“There’s something else of yours that I want in my mouth,” said April, giving one nipple a tweak. She felt rather than heard the jet of milk that sprayed against the inside of the shirt in response to the pressure she had applied. Mikura gasped aloud.

“Oh…Miss April…,” she breathed, shuddering with pleasure. “My milk- do you want it? I’m so full! Ever since you arrived, my body- I could feel it building inside me!”

“Take off your shirt,” said April. “I want to see your breasts!”

April observed the dizzying sight of Mikura using her thin, white arms to lift her soaked T-shirt above her head. The young girl saw the fabric slide slowly up from Mikura’s waist, flowing inward at the hourglass junction there, then curving back outward, sticking to her breasts for a moment and lifting them slightly. As the shirt came of the top of Mikura’s head, jostling the brunette hair present at the apex of the journey, the woman’s breasts celebrated their shirtless freedom by dropping their heft back into place more than halfway down her sex-goddess torso. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, either- and her free-swinging tits, capped with massive, raised areolas and lipstick nipples, were mesmerizing in their gargantuan perfection. At the end of each fleshy protrusion was a leaking milk duct.

“Wow,” said April, sparing a self-conscious glance at her own barely-developing chest. “No matter how many times I see those- I don’t believe them!”

Mikura looked away shyly. Milk was dripping slowly from her swollen chest, and she gasped aloud when April moved forward and used two tiny, tanned hands to heft one of her flesh sacs up to mouth level.

“Please, miss April- the pressure, my body- I can’t help it. I can feel myself filling up, from the inside. I can feel it running through me- the fluid…more of it, with every passing second. Please, go ahead!” But the girl, a seasoned veteran of teasing for pleasure, sensed an opportunity.

“You want me to suck the milk out of your big tits?” April whispered, looking up naughtily, playing the bad little girl role to perfection. “Me? An innocent little girl, just 13 years old? You want me to put this big thing in my hot mouth?”

“Yes!”

“Then say it. Say ‘I want you to suck the milk from my fucking tits!’”

“Oh, Miss April! Aaagh!” Mikura shuddered as a spurt of yellowish-white fluid erupted from the smooth, slick breast that April was holding. “I…I…”

“Come on- you can say it! You can say ‘I want you to suck the milk out of my fucking tits!’”

“Please!” Mikura said again, eyes clenched with discomfort, tits dripping with lines of fluid. “Miss, April- I’ve got so much in me!”

April shook her head slyly, keeping her lips pursed, her blue eyes locked on Mikura’s face. Abruptly, she let the breast she had been holding fall. As it fell, swollen and slick, back to Mikura’s chest, the jolt prompted another small squirt of yellowish-white discharge. Mikura gasped in pleasure and pain.

“I want you to suck on my tits!” she cried suddenly, eyes shut in an abjuration against the dirty words that she was being forced to utter. “Please, suck on my tits!”

“Say FUCK!” prompted April. “I want to hear you say it!”

“Augh!” said Mikura, eyes shut. “Please, honey- my body…we started things going, and it doesn’t know to stop…it hurts…so…good!” Indeed, Mikura looked like she was on the verge of another orgasm as waves of fluid burrowed through the network of ducts in her heaving chest and converged behind the bottleneck of her sensitive nipples.

April smiled naughtily, and then raised the stakes. “Not unless you say FUCK!” she said, punctuating the last word by poking a finger into the jutting end of one of Mikura’s nipples with medium force, blocking the end of the milk-duct as she applied pressure. April could feel a would-be jet of milk oscillating against the tip of her finger, trying to spurt outward but failing. It was like plugging a tiny water jet in a hot tub.

Mikura’s eyes burst open. “AAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH!” she moaned, and then her desperate, half-orgasmic look centered on April.

“FUCK!” she yelled, defeated and willing.

“FUCK!” she yelled again, eyes desperate, using language she had only used one other time in the last ten years, at her Flesh Project audition. “Fucking suck the fucking milk out of my fucking tits! Please! Put my fucking tits in your sucking little fucking mouth! God, please! Hurry!”

April, wide-eyed and smiling, did so, placing two perfect, wide-spread lips around Mikura’s fleshy, jutting left nipple, enveloping the hot, blood-engorged flesh in the warmth of her spit-slick teenage mouth before sucking with medium force.

“OH GOD!” screamed Mikura, lost in ecstasy, as she felt the pressure drop away from her left side, felt the hot, roiling mass of liquid in her amazing fuck-udder begin to erupt from the strained opening of her nipple. April nursed sloppily and wetly at her tit, feeling the sticky discharge spray the inside of her mouth, splattering her teeth, tongue, and cheeks, washing over dental fillings, trickling down the back of her throat, and causing her cheeks to begin to swell with the sheer volume. In an unspeakable, fluid-blasting rhythm, the young girl took deep and hungry sucks on the rubbery nozzle buried in her face, feeling the warmth of the payload as it filled her mouth to capacity. Mikura, for her part, dropped a hand to her fleshy cunt and began to mash her clit back and forth with the pads of three fingers, stewing her crotchmeat around in a circle, causing her nether lips to shed droplets of moisture onto the bedspread.

April swallowed a first and second gulp of hot fluid as she used one hand to heft Mikura’s opposite breast slightly, feeling the hot and pulsating weight of it in her palm. Aiming the nipple at her own kneebound form, she gave a firm squeeze, and felt a stream of wet ejecta splatter against her firm, cute little midriff. Rolling her eyes downward past the sight of her own sucking mouth, the young girl could see the beautiful contrast of the whitish tit-leakage cascading down her smooth and tanned pubescent core in irregular drip lines, painting her white. Suddenly, she wanted to be covered in it- bathed in the nasty, wonderful titmilk of her new friend. She felt her mouth go deliciously full and swallowed a third time, enjoying the fullness of the chug even as the next spurt of warm goo erupted over her teeth. Another squeeze on the opposite breast brought a second arcing stream, this time splattering the area just above her near-nonexistent tits and dripping down quickly to soak her bra.

April continued to suck, and suck, and suck. Her tongue alternatively tickled the twitching, spurting canal of Mikura’s milk duct and laid at the bottom of her hot mouth, marinating in warm, sticky tit-jizz. With every squeeze of the off-hand breast, she caused a spray of bubbling Mikura fluid to splatter over her nubile, underage body, crisscrossing the beach-honed surface of her skin with lines of translucent white liquid. The older woman was rutting furiously at her own pussy, the fabric of her shorts was fluttering about like the housing of some tiny machine that had gone into overdrive.

“Oh god! Oh god! My body!” gasped Mikura, her mind wrapped in orgasmic sensation, shuddering and shaking with the incomparable sensation of being drained, being sucked out, of being consumed and accepted within the starving body of another person, erupting into that lover, unleashing herself into that lover, leaving herself inside that lover. With these feelings overwhelming her, she came a second time, trembling and gasping with a soul-quaking cum, feeling warmth and liquid slide down her legs in a wet waterfall of female ejaculation.

April, seeing her partner go into the throes of orgasm, removed her mouth from Mikura’s spurting tit, and squeezed both of the huge breasts before her, directing their milk spurts onto her face and upper body in a milk-spurting money shot parody.

“Yeah!” she exclaimed, feeling the spasms in her cunt as her blonde, jaw-length hair was spattered with streams of whiteness. It wasn’t long before Mikura, her cunt afire, collapsed backward on the bed. April remained sprawled in a knock-kneed little girl crouch.

Weary, and breathing hard, Mikura looked up at April over the rolling mounds of her own bounteous body. The young girl was wide-eyed, her muscles taut, neck craned, beautiful mouth slightly open, kneeling low on the bed with her ankles out to either side. There were white lines of running milk wrapped around the youthful tightness of her bronze, pubescent frame- drips of it falling slowly from her splattered hair. The area around her mouth and chin was wet and slick with translucent titmilk- as if she’d just taken a sloppy swig straight from the carton, splashing it carelessly on her own face.

Most striking of all, though, were her eyes. Avid. Unblinking. The sky-blue, California eyes of a beach falconer. The eyes of someone who has just experienced a skydive adrenaline rush. They were situated high above the half-soaked layer of her cute bra and panties like two sapphire jewels. Mikura could not recall ever seeing eyes like that- they were like something out of a dream.

Slowly, April crawled across the bed, hand in front of hand, knee in front of knee, to collapse at the side of her older companion, hugging her close. Their bodies mingled with an intimate moistness- a slick guilt that was satisfying and dark.

“Miss…Mikura,” gasped April. “Do you feel ok?”

Mikura was silent. April hugged her tighter. “It’s ok, alright?”, the young girl assured her older partner. And then…

…the hug back. April’s heart lept again.

She felt Mikura try to rise, and brought her weight up to rise alongside her. Then, Mikura took April’s shoulders, still slick, and laid the young girl down on the bed. Gently, slowly, her hands went to the sides of April’s waistband. As she began to tug, pulling the panties slowly down her young friend’s legs, wresting the fabric gradually out from under the tiny, pert weight of her little behind, Mikura whispered to April, and the younger girl listened, mesmerized.

“You’ve become very special to me,” came the soft voice, each word made more wonderful by the insistent tug on April’s underwear, the gradual unveiling of her puffy, lubricated sex. “I haven’t had a special friend- someone look after and care for- for a long time.”

Mikura slipped the soaked panties over the ends of April’s little feet, never breaking eye contact, still speaking in the same soft and gentle voice, with the same gradual cadence. Moving with purpose, she separated April’s legs, opening the flower of the young girl’s slick and blushing pussy, and crawled in between, hovering her upper body over April’s pelvis, her tits brushing the bottom of the girl’s spread thighs.

“You’re a wonderful young girl,” Mikura continued. “You have an open heart, and you’re smart- much smarter than I am.”
The young girl gasped aloud as Mikura took hold of her own bulging breast and slowly lowered the hard, fleshy nipple toward April’s slit, trailing it along the sides of her gash, leaving a snail trail of leaking milk behind with each agonizing, nerve-detonating stroke.

“I do want to make you feel good,” said Mikura, rubbing her titnub vertically up and down April’s cunt, burrowing into the slick, hot flesh there, sliding through hot pinkness. She was doing circles up and around the clit, then started down toward the perfect pink starfish of her little asshole, pressing hotly around the edges, trickling a drop of milk into the depression there.

“Oh!” said April, eyes shutting, hands rubbing over he tiny nipples. “Your nipples feel so good!”

Mikura began to jab roughly at April’s slit with the pointy hardness of her tit, fucking the blood-engorged mass in, around, up and down on her barely-teen box, pressing up against her asshole, teasing her insides with jets of milk, sending rivulets of fluid tumbling down the insides of April’s thighs to either side of her anus.

“I want to make you feel good in so many ways! Miss April, I don’t know what to do!” Mikura said through clenched teeth. She began pressing forward, hard, digging her nipple as deep as possible into April’s little cunt, splattering the inside of her hole with thick discharge.

“Yes!” said April, pinching her nipples underneath the fabric of her pink bra, spreading her legs wide to allow Mikura deeper access to her sinful little crotch- and exalting in the sensation of wet streams hitting the inside of her shuddering fuck canal.

“Mmmmm!” said Mikura, exhaling. Abruptly, she withdrew her breast, leaving April’s milk-leaking, pink pussy exposed- and then lowered her face on it. April felt the first ministrations of that amazing tongue- that marvelous, dagger-like mouth organ of Mikuras that seemed to be five inches long. She shuddered with pleasure as she felt the inside of her sacred young slit being licked out, bathed in spit, invaded by a long and powerful thing.

“Oh, Miss Mikura!” April yelled, and she dared to lower her hands to the back of Mikura’s head, forcing the woman’s face harder into her crotch, wanting that wet tongue to coil all the way through her body and come out her mouth, if such a thing were only possible.

Mikura responded by putting April’s legs on her shoulders, and lifting her pelvis up high so that the girl’s ass was high off the bed, and only her head and shoulders were still nestled in the bedspread. Holding April tight around her waist, the older woman lowered her tongue to the girl’s milk-slick asshole and pushed it inside, licking and rimming, feeling the strength and heat of barely-teen assflesh wreathed around her face.

“Oh, Miss Mikura, your tongue! Don’t stop!” April jammed a hand upward and into her hot, pulsating cunt, wanting to come, willing herself to come, delirious with the feel of Mikura’s powerful tongue massaging her sensitive prostate. “I’m going to cum!”

“Mmmmph!” gasped Mikura, driving her tongue as deep as she could into April’s asshole.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!” April groaned, her body straightening, every muscle taut, hand three fingers deep into her licked-out, milk-leaking fuck tunnel. She was cumming, and cumming hard- wracking her body with spasms, clenching her butthole up and down on the tongue inside. For twenty seconds or more, they were locked this way- April’s head down, ass up, legs draped over the woman tongue-fucking her asshole, jittering with orgasm. Eventually, though, the girl went limp, and Mikura followed her down to the bed, exhausted.

Their only communication for a minute or more was a locking of the eyes- April’s head turned to the side from her back, Mikura’s turned to the side from her front, mere inches away.

“Oh, Miss April,” whispered Mikura. “I’m so confused. What will I ever do?”

April, nearly comatose, only looked over and smiled weakly, speaking softly and slowly. “Just be with me. When I need you. And I’ll be with you. When you need me. That’s all.”

Mikura closed her eyes, heart pounding hard. "That's all?" she asked, softly. "You make it sound so simple, honey."

“What else is there?” April whispered.

In that moment, Mikura let her adult perspective, with all the complex rules and shades of grey, romantic, platonic, familial, taboo, fall by the wayside. She allowed herself to think in the manner of a child. She dreamt, half-waking, of a world where all loves were equal, all loves were the same- a world where love was enough to conquer all.