Kara

by Inday Espina-Varona

Indigo Corewomyn

Thud.

"That sounds so final." 

Kara's lazy musing matched her physical form on the balcony of the brownstone she shared with Kim, the lawyer daughter of her parents' best friends. 

For the past two hours, the 19-year old journalism student had sat quietly on a bean bag, back against the wall, feet scooped up Indian style as Noel Pointer music, the Roots Suite, swirled around her. 

Petite form, wrapped in a gossamer white sari, swayed at particularly moving passages; otherwise she was still, mind awash with blurred images of hands and bodies touching, sliding, grinding slowly, then urgently, in rhythm with her personal paean to life. 

Kara unlocked her legs in one graceful motion and stood up, stretching, her arms towards the crescent that draped a slim-hipped but full-breasted form in light and shadow. 

Reaching for a glass of chilled La Pasyonara - a juice blend spiked with gin - she gasped softly, seeing wet spots in her sari. 

Kim, hot-shot vice president at 27, stood silently in the living room, watching the girl she teasingly called Wild Dove gaze enthralled at her own body. 

Her knees buckled as she took in rose-hued buds against the wet fabric, the black down etched clearly as sheer, damp cotton molded itself on Kara's thighs. 

Damn you, girl. What mess have you gotten into this time? 

Kim sighed. Half her waking hours were spent extricating Kara from one scrape after another. 

Protest rallies often got too rowdy. She'd rush to holding cells, imagining terrible things - and find her ward languidly ordering around huge cops for coffee, or cigarettes. 

One time, Kim found Kara ensconced on the table of a detective, legs swinging as she helped the poor, befuddled man craft a report worthy of a Pulitzer prize. 

"That's not politically correct. Change it." 

The man got a commendation. By the eighth arrest, the station commander had started treating Kara out to dinner. 

Kim's feminist friends were another matter. 

A couple had been affronted by the girl's irreverent humor. Kara had never flirted with them, thank God. Kim was glad to be spared that complication. 

There was no steady boyfriend, just a gaggle of admirers that included the prison inmates Kara visited and colleagues - hers and Kim's. They all fell under the spell of the gamine, although not many ever followed up with courtship. 

You'd be jailbait, kid, if you didn't radiate so much integrity and dignity, even while romping around with torn jeans. 

It was a combustible combination: fragile bones, luscious lips that perpetually looked slightly bruised atop a firm chin. And expressive eyes that could spark angry fires or darken with sympathy, though they were mostly twinkling with mischief. 

Trained ballerina movements. A walk that was part cocky swagger, part jig and, if Kara was in the mood, a temptress's catwalk. The girl had a low, warm drawl of a speaking voice, a singing range that glided from smoky alto to a lyrical soprano, a biting wit and throaty laugh, and a warm, emphatic nature that led her to impossible situations. 

Kim shook herself out of her reverie. 

There was something she had to take up with Kara. 

The girl (woman, she admonished herself) had been moping around the townhouse for two weeks. She'd gone to class, gone to work. But no dates, incredible for Kara. Kim had been having anxiety fits. 

"Kara. Come here." 

Kim didn't wait for the response. She knew Kara liked the rambling conversations they had the rare times they were both at home. 

"How was your day?" 

"Kara shrugged in silence, sprawled on Kim's red, silk bedspread, tracing fingers across that hand-painted figures of entwined women. 

She raised her head as Kim, naked, cocked a finger to signal entry into the sprawling bath. 

"You're beautiful." 

Kim paused, startled at Kara's tone, but she did not attempt to cover herself. 5'8" with an athletic build that was soft and lush in the right places. Pure corn-blond hair on skin that tanned naturally. Slashing cheekbones, full, all-woman lips atop a square jaw. Violet eyes that earned her the nickname "Liz" among her peers. Diana to Kara's ethereal sprite. 

Kim was a lesbian and from her teens, had her pick of a bevy of women, from teachers to jocks to cheerleaders. Not Kara though; she had always held her distance.

Kara? 

With eyes closed, Kim smiled. That would be almost like incest. A sudden hiss from inside the brain jolted her. Chicken, you're afraid to drown in passion. 

She stared at the young woman who was now looking her over. Boldly. 

Kara's tongue flicked at her upper lip. 

Kim felt fire rapidly building in her loins. She was angry and turned to stalk into the huge sunken tub. 

"We have to talk." 

She lowered herself into the warm water. Returning her gaze to Kara, Kim was surprised to see the hurt eyes, struggling to contain tears. She had been too court. 

"Come here. No, look at me." 

Kara had been about to lower her head on Kim's shoulder. Now, she was staring at the floor. 

Kim chucked the stubborn chin; after a brief struggle, Kara finally met her gaze. 

What Kim saw in Kara's eyes took her breath away. At once bold and scared, tentative and determined. The vulnerability shook the lawyer. 

She grew more tense as Kara dropped her blushing face for a caress.

"We must talk." 

Kim heard her hoarse whisper as from afar. "You've been holed up here for two weeks. What's wrong?"

"So, you noticed?"

Kara's whispered answer stung Kim. 

"Of course I have," she snapped back, indignant at what she interpreted as a gibe over imagined insensitivity. 

Kim sat up in anger, full breasts heaving as she fought to control temper.

She shook Kara's shoulder non-too-gently. Dripping suds spread transparency down the sari's front. 

"Not notice that deafening silence? You insult me. I kept my peace only to respect your privacy. But you can't trust me, it seems." 

Kara was now angry, too. She tossed her head, held it high and blazed at Kim.

"You could have asked. But you were too busy with your bimbos!" 

The tears gushed as she angrily tried to shake off Kim, forcing the lawyer's hands to slip. 

Kara would have moved away but Kim was too fast, hooking her left hand round the crying girl's back and drawing her near. 

The right hand then tugged at Kara's hair, forcing up the girl's face. 

Kim, furious, clamped her lips over Kara's, in a bruising, punishing, challenging kiss that forced the other woman's mouth open to her tongue. 

Kara's struggle was short-lived; a few movements across the lawyer's wet bare breasts reduced her to a limp, quivering mass. 

Kim paused for breath but returned for more probes, which Kara now met tentatively, as she arched her back to yield breasts to cupped hands. 

The lawyer heard Kara's muted whimpers, felt the girl straining against her hands. But she refused to increase the pressure even when a moan of protest erupted as she ended the kiss. 

Her heart was pounding, she had never imagined this, knew this was the overpowering strength of passion she had always feared. 

She cupped Kara's face, wanting to find contradictions that could bolster her resolve to keep away. 

What met her was a frank invitation, an appeal for love. 

"Please, Kim. Don't push me away." 

Kara's voice quavered, but she bravely met Kim's stare and kept still as disbelieving eyes roamed her body.

"Since when Kara?" 

Kara closed her eyes with relief at the husky question. Now she could confess the wild stirrings that had kept her awake at night for months, feelings she tried, but failed to quench, in the arms of various men. 

She raised herself up for Kim's embrace, opening her mouth to feel the pulse beating madly in the blonde's throat. 

That crushed Kim's last defenses, as did Kara's answer. "For three months now. I've been so desperate." 

With no further prodding, only the hands caressing her short dark mop of hair and running warm wetness down her back, Kara gave herself up. 

"Threw myself at all these men but it was your face I saw, your hands I felt. I pretended at orgasm. I would pleasure myself later and imagine ecstasy in your arms. Thought it was hopeless; there were all these sophisticated women at your side and I was a klutz who tried your patience." 

Kara was crying again as she gave Kim little kisses on the neck and cheeks. 

"I was afraid you would laugh at me. Accuse me of using you to experiment. Transference of power." 

Kim drew back, startled, not sure of the message. She saw Kara struggling with shame. But honesty took over. 

"I fantasize about giving you full control over me. Doing everything you want. A slave. I know a feminist would sneer." 

Kim almost stopped breathing. This was beyond even her secret dream.

Feisty Kara, wanting control? The girl who took over police stations? 

She had to set things straight. 

"No, babe, that's not the thing we fight against. It's a different kind of control, over persons' destinies and the right to chart personal growth. As long as it's consensual, anything goes for love." 

"But is it always you under my control? All the time?" 

Kara's blush grew deeper. She shook her head. 

"No, sometimes I imagine myself commanding you, devouring your body, teasing you, glorying in hearing you beg for release. Once, I dreamt you obeyed my order to walk around naked the whole day, and I would touch you here and there, give you little licks, until you were like jelly."

"And I dream of kissing you boldly in front of your friends, caressing you freely in a women's bar, staking my claim." 

Kara grew despondent. 

"But you've rejected any claim on you." 

"I'll be grateful for anything," the young woman promised with reckless abandon, though her eyes showed a glimpse of future pain. 

Kim laughed, half in wonder at Kara's truly crazy, impetuous generosity. 

"I only said that, because I couldn't reveal the real reason for wanting to be available. I was desperate, too, hoping against hope, waiting for you." 

Kara reacted like she'd heard magic words, hugging Kim like her life depended on it. 

Now she initiated the kiss, slowly pricing Kim's mouth open with tender laves of her tongue, nibbling at the lower lip, swirling around the gums, before rubbing gently tongue on tongue, suckling on the tip of Kim's, then thrusting her own deep. 

Kim was gasping when Kara moved away. When she opened her eyes, Kara was slowly unwrapping herself from the drenched sari. 

Legs apart, she stood proudly, an offering so precious Kim knew she would have to savor every moment. She offered her hand and Kara joined her at the bath. 

The younger woman drew closer but Kim's gesture stayed her. 

"Kneel down there. Back towards me." 

Kara faced the mirrored wall, shuddering as Kim squeezed a sponge several times over her hair, watching as fragrant water spilled across her body. 

Kim took a tube of textured body scrub, and began to massage Kara's nape. 

"Don't move." 

Kim's tongue toyed with her lips, stopping every so often as the blond enjoyed her reaction. She spread the grainy cream across Kara's arms, then slowly across her waist, down the hips and sides of her thighs. 

"Say it."


"I'm yours. I'm yours." 

Kara's muttered statements ended in a deep moan as her arms were raised and body scrub coursed a trail on sensitive underarms. 

"Wrap your arms round my neck." 

Kara's body arched. The mirror image was so arousing that Kim bit deeply into the woman's neck, sucking deep. She half expected a protest. But Kara just submitted to more of the same. 

"Yes, please." 

By the time Kim drew away, four red marks dotted Kara's throat. 

"They'll see that and wonder, little one." 

"I'll tell them the truth. Proudly." 

The words brought Kim to tears. She hugged Kara, the slight roughness betraying her passion. 

"Damn you. I always knew you were trouble." 

Kara stiffened, tried to draw her arms away. 

"No!" 

Kim's cry was a mixture of command and begging. Kara gave in, but the proud tilt of her head signaled that a sting was coming. 

"You can't always be in insulation, Kim. Whatever fire that consumes you, believe me, consumes me, too."

"Kara, I've always been afraid of losing control, making a fool of myself." 

"Then control ME. That way losing control won't hurt too much." 

"For such a young one, you can be so old." 

Kim's teasing voice spoke silent acceptance and Kara gave up her neck for one more mark. 

"Now, let me see how well you behave. You can moan but not move. Just hang on."

Kim's hands started running circles around the sides of Kara's breasts, leaving her gasping and mewling. 

"Yes, honey, let me hear the moans." 

The fingers drew nearer peaks, but tantalizingly stayed just beyond the aureoles, driving Kara to the little screams.

"Do you like it?" 

Kara nodded. The arms tightened round her breasts, causing slight pain. 

"Let me hear it!" 

"Yes, yes, please. Please! Don't stop!" 

Kim feasted on Kara's flushed face. 

"What do you want?" 

"Touch my breasts, please!"

"I AM touching your breasts." The fingers had resumed their teasing circles. 

"My nipples, please. Take them!"

Kim did touch the straining buds but so lightly that it only added to Kara's frustration. The younger woman strained. Instantly an arm forced a grip under the peaks and a sharp slap on the ass caused a yelp. Another cheek slap. Harder. And two more.

"I told you not to move." Despite Kara's entreaties and promises, Kim was unmoved.

"Please, Kim. I'll do anything you want."

Kim went back to scrubbing Kara, but she was more businesslike this time. Then she stood up, towering over the kneeling woman.

"Bath me. No hanky-panky!"

Kara tried to obey. But she could not help rubbing her cheeks on Kim's nipples, smiling at the stifled groan of the blonde. She flicked her tongue across the buds, forcing Kim to pull her head back. 

Kara gave a saucy smile and slid hand to the undermound, slipping a finger into the slit.

"No!"

Kim's agonized cry and involuntary parting of legs belied her efforts to pull Kara away. All the while holding Kim's Gaze, Kara repeatedly rubbed the opening of the moans, intermittently slipping a finger then two all the way up the vulva.

"Say it!"

This time, the words were accompanied by nips on Kim's upper thighs. The blonde no longer muffled her groans.

"Yes, love show me. Shit! Yes babe, yes press on it! Bury it inside, yes. More, yes!"

"Fuck me love Ahh! Its yours, Kara. Play with me, yes. Take your pleasure."

Kara, despite her inexperience, felt the pressure building inside Kim. She gripped the woman's upper thigh. Hard, releasing a sound mid-way between groan and scream.

"Look at me! I want to see you come!"

As Kara's fingers increased their motion, as a palm added pressure to Kim's now erect clit, the lawyer let the young woman feast on the desire that shook her, that sent her whimpering, like a child wanting a special toy.

Mouth open now, eyes hooded, Kim now thrust back for every push of Kara's finger, ground her hips against the palm.

"Now, yes now, Kara! Kara! Kara!!!"

The scream was driven out of Kim at last. Her knees gave way and she slid down.

But Kara was not through. Now she was kissing Kim's neck, groaning with her own desire, as her fingers explored some more, pressed and fondled clit and probed deeper, towards the upper walls of Kim's core.

"Scream, Kim, scream. Show your pleasure. Let me know I please you!"

As the thrusting grew in frenzy, so did Kim's screams and grinding of hips. And when a finger again started a rhythmic drumming on her clit, she once more broke out into a long hoarse cry, calling on Kara.

For a long moment, both women stayed still, catching their breaths. Then Kim raised Kara's face and gave her a lingering kiss. Standing up, she embraced the petite form as cold water swept away the soap from their bodies. 

They stepped out of the bath. Kim wrapped a towel around Kara. Tilted the little one's head back.

"Now, I will have you."

© IEV 2003

About The Author
Inday has moved from The Manila Times to become managing editor (and footloose reporter) of the Philippine Graphic.  She still writes the column, Southpaw, for The Manila Times every Monday and Tuesday and throws them a special report now and then. You can send rants and raves to scarred_cat@hotmail.com .