Kim Pritekel - Passion's Fool

"Fallon!" Sarah called out, bringing her hands down to painfully grasp Fallon’s hair. She spread her legs wider to accommodate the warrior’s bulk, opening herself up to that probing tongue and making an offering.

"Yes, sweet Sarah," the brunette whispered, almost in awe as she continued to swirl her tongue through the thick juices of her wife’s desire. She could tell by the blonde’s breathing that she was getting very close, and so pushed on, flicking her tongue again and again over Sarah’s clit, her fingers beginning to work their way back inside, pumping with each lick of her tongue.

Sarah bared her teeth, feeling the most intense waves of passion flow through her, nearly making her light headed with the impact. The wave of ecstasy felt as though it would wash her into darkness.

Fallon held on as the blonde’s body arched off the floor, her pubic bone nearly hitting the warrior in the face. She held on to Sarah’s thighs, trying to calm her once the blonde had fully climaxed.

Trembling, Sarah felt tears stinging her eyes. Fallon quickly climbed up her body, and held her close, murmuring soft words into her ear and petting her hair.

Sarah clung to her husband, small aftershocks still pulsing through her.

"I’m sorry, Fallon," she said quietly, swiping at a tear. "I was just so overwhelmed."

"No need apologize, dear Sarah." Fallon murmured, moving to lie beside the still trembling woman, pulling her naked body to her, and rubbing gentle circles over her back. "It means I did well, yes?"

"Oh, yes, my lord." Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath, burying her face into the warrior’s warm neck. "Very good. I have never experienced anything quite like it before. ’Twas, ’twas truly amazing."

Fallon smiled, kissing the top of the blonde head. "Good," she whispered.

"I should like to return the favor, husband." Sarah pulled lightly away from Fallon and reached for the hem of her shirt again. A large hand stopped it.

"No need, Sarah. I am fine." Fallon tried to play it off as she was tired, but could see the raw determination and desire in those green eyes.

"Oh, but I wish to." Sarah tried again, nearly reaching into Fallon’s still unlaced pants. The warrior jumped to her feet, hands laid protectively over herself. Sarah looked up at her, stunned. "My lord?"

"I said I’m fine, Sarah," Fallon said, far more harsh than she had intended to. She could see the hurt flash across the blonde’s face. The lady grabbed her crumpled dress, and pulled it in front of her naked torso like a shield.

"I am sorry, my lord." She bowed her head, long blonde hair like a curtain to cover her blushing face.

"I, it’s . . ." Fallon swallowed, feeling like an ass. "I’ll see you at dinner." She hurriedly tucked in her shirt and laced the leather trousers, and nearly ran from the room.

Sarah felt the first tear fall.

Fallon slammed into her chambers, almost ripping the billowy shirt from her body, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it across the large room. Next came the boots and pants. She then removed the phallus and harness, looking at it, Sarah’s scent still very recognizable.

She groaned and tossed the contraption on the bed.

"I hate this!" she yelled, slamming her fist into her thigh like a child. She hated the ruse, hated her father for putting her in the position to have to lie, and hated herself for going along with it. She knew that it was a necessary evil, but that was cold comfort. She was lying to everyone around her, including a beautiful young woman whom she was growing to care about more and more every day. A woman who was so sweet and trusting and so hopeful that maybe she had been lucky to find real happiness.

Happiness in a lie.

Fallon turned to the full length looking glass and took in the reflection that stared back at her with hatred and contempt. She took in her body, hard from years of practicing on the battle and practice fields, and hours of daily rigorous exorcise. Her skin was bronze from so much exposure to the sun, coupled with her natural coloring. The eyes, blue, and what Sarah called beautiful and riveting. Fallon called them cold and calculating.

"You are a fraud," she whispered vehemently to herself.

Sarah sat at her vanity table, brush in hand, though hair forgotten. She stared vacantly at the mottle of jars and beautifying ointments massed across the table. Mary stood behind her, watching the girl through the mirror.

The young blonde had been quiet all evening, even during dinner. She had been withdrawn and barely had picked at her food. And as she thought of this, the servant realized that Lord Fallon had been the same. The husband and wife had not spoken during dinner, and in fact it had all been a rather somber affair.

"Miss Sarah?" Mary said quietly, taking the brush from the loose hand of her mistress.

"Hmm?" Sarah said absently, clasping her fingers together in her lap.

"Are you alright, milady?" Mary began to gently take the long, blonde strands out of the elaborate braid held at the back of the girl’s head, slowly removing the green ribbon that had been entwined with the hair.

"Yes," Sarah lied, then thought better of it. "Mary, am I appealing to look at?" she asked quietly, her voice just barely above a whisper.

"Milady?" Mary wasn’t sure she’d heard the question correctly.

"Tell me, Mary. Am I hideous?"

The handmaiden met the pained green eyes in the mirror and shook her head.

"No, miss Sarah. Far from it. You are a most beautiful woman." She smiled. "Most sweet."

"Thank you, Mary." Sarah reached back, laying her hand on that that rested on her shoulder.

"Is there trouble?" The maid resumed her brushing.

"I do not know." She looked down, again feeling the pain of Fallon’s rejection from earlier that night. She did not know what she had done wrong, or if she had simply been too ugly for the warrior to share himself with. A single tear dropped to land on her folded hands.

"Oh, dear Sarah. What is it?" Mary knelt beside her young friend’s chair, taking her hands in her own. "Perhaps I can help."

Green eyes, vibrant from the upset, met the concerned blue.

"I do not know if my husband finds me desirable. I wonder if it is because I have not given him an heir as of yet. We have tried, Mary!" she cried, finally letting her pain and confusion come. "I have done my best as his wife, to grant him such. It has not happened, and I fear he is so disappointed in me."

"Miss Sarah, I am so sorry." Mary gathered the trembling woman into her arms and tried to soothe the child. "You have done all you can. ’Tis up to God to decide who is blessed and who is not. Perhaps the problem is not yours." Mary didn’t fully understand the scope of Sarah’s pain, but tried to be there as best she could, to comfort the girl she had come to see as her own daughter. So sweet was young Sarah. She felt anger build at the thought of that man hurting her so.

Sarah pulled away after a bit, wanting to be alone.

"Please help me finish, Mary. I am so tired."

Mary left not a candle mark later, and the blonde quickly climbed into bed. She felt so alone and empty, not understanding. She knew it wasn’t really a huge deal, and as her husband, Fallon had the right to resist or reject her as he so chose. But it just felt wrong to her, somehow. He was so kind and gentle, and then there was the incredible pleasure he had incited in her that day.

She shivered at the thought. Was it a sin to feel such immense ecstasy? She wondered. Curling up within herself, Sarah tried to fall asleep.

For the next few weeks the couple kept their distance. Sarah was stung and unsure, and Fallon was simply playing the fool’s chicken. She did not want to have to see that kind of hurt in her wife’s eyes again. She was angry and disgusted at herself, and knew that the topic would come up again.