Magic Mushrooms

Shrooms taste like shit. Alex and Rory agreed on that. An acquired taste. Seasonal, too. They had hiked through woods early in the morning to find them. Hung them up to dry on a clothes line in Alex's house, because she was the only one with a place big enough to do that. Their special little treat, to share together.

Alex had told her about her first time. A group of teenagers, first year at university, turning over cow pats in a meadow. How she'd nearly thrown up. Then she had wandered out in the dew-laden grass, and this cow had come along, a lumbering beast that seemed as huge as a mountain, with stars in its eyes, infinite in its wisdom and compassion. They had found her, soaking wet, hugging onto Bessy, and her friend Amelia had dragged her away and peeled the wet clothes off of her, and...well, it was a first for Alex in many ways, that night.

Rory's first time had been more purposeful. Her family had always gone out mushrooming. Parents were real natural food types. She knew what they were, and had followed her parents advice and avoided them. Until she hadn't. And one night, Rory had stared through the skylight and rubbed her hand between her legs as she stared at the stars wheeling overhead, and had masturbated for what seemed like the life-age of a universe.

Yet both of them agreed: it was better with someone else.

They took care of the basic business in the bathroom first, as they waited for the shrooms to start to take effect. Twenty minutes was about enough time to pee and brush your teeth, for two women giddy with excitement.

Then it was lights out. Clothes off. Under the covers. Already hot and horny as hand latched onto hip and nape of neck. Two bodies collided softly but passionately in the dark; Rory offered her neck for Alex to kiss, and Alex guided one greedy hand to her small breast, to fill Rory's palm, the hard nipple pressed into the middle.

Thighs slid against each other. Beneath the covers became hot, the air close. Their tongues met as warm skin slid along their labia, and Alex and Rory locked together in an embrace, breast to breast, to rub each others pussies fiercely as their faces mashed together.

Then the shrooms really kicked in.

How do you tell your love that in that moment, in the dark, that you are making love to a goddess? How every single nerve seems on edge, how the darkness takes on shape and contour, and the soft curves become the terrible, primitive fecundity of some paleolithic Venus, whose hot mouth threatens to devour you? Rory drowned herself in that flesh, clung to her idol like some pagan witch.

Alex drew the blanket up around herself like a cape, as she pinned Rory beneath her. The fat pussy ground against Rory's face as she poured her blessings upon her, and Rory's eager tongue sought to drink from that chalice, to swallow down all that holy water. Then she gave a muffled scream into the goddess' pussy as Alex shifted position and came down to bury her head between Rory's legs.

In her shroom-vision, Alex was the princess and Rory her knight-errant, who had rescued her from the wicked, oddly phallic tower. Such devotion deserved reward...and though the blankets had become all twisted and confused, and Rory's big ass hung out the bottom, so that Rory could gasp for air as she licked at her goddess' cooch, Alex's tongue delved deep into Rory's cunny, determined to taste her climax.

Shrooms can last for hours. All night long. Sex is not often so protracted an experience. Yet when two people are high...horny...and, perhaps, in love...

They changed position a dozen times. Later, dehydrated and covered in stale sweat, as they recounted their visions, Alex would tell Rory how she had pried the woman's muscular buttocks apart with her fingers and stuck her tongue deep inside because Rory was shivering and Alex wanted to take her temperature. And Rory would tell her that she had been trying to **** her fingers in Alex's mouth because the goddess demanded her hand in sacrifice...but it had worked out, because the saliva was the only lubricant they had, when Rory had decided that the goddess demanded to be fisted instead.

Sore and super-satisfied, they held each other until dawn. In the light of day, they could examine the damage. Love-bites on Rory's breasts. Stains on the sheets that now demanded a wash, and possibly plastic sheets to protect the mattress in the future. Alex picked pubic hair out of her teeth. A series of four parallel scratches on Alex's left buttock.

And a sense of calm and serenity as they cuddled together. Rory the big spoon, one leg drawn up over Alex's thigh. Her fingertips gently explored Alex's breasts. Soon, there would be dawn...time to get up...

"I'm so glad I met you," Alex whispered to the darkness. "I love you."

"Love you too," Rory mumbled sleepily...and Alex's heart leaped a little, as it did every time her lover said it.

Because they both meant it. Alex had never really known what love was, before she met Rory. Oh, she had liked women, she'd had relationships with women, but she'd never been with anyone who she was so...compatible with. They were on the same wavelength. The other half of her. Rory, Alex knew, had never taken shrooms with anyone else. She had always been alone, through good trips and bad. Alex was the only one Rory had ever trusted with that side of herself...and to Alex, that trust was worth more than gold.