Extract: Out of This World by Maggie Morton

outofthisworld

She woke up what could have been either minutes or hours later. Or even days. But she didn’t see any clocks nearby to tell her how long it’d been, and the mattress she was lying on was lumpy and uneven. As she opened her eyes, her memories came shooting back into her head. The lost luggage. The taxi she’d gotten into. And how she’d fallen asleep as soon as the driver had taken off.

“Fuck!” Iris leapt up. She was standing under a starry, full-mooned sky, in a giant field, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. “What to do, w-what to do…” she stammered, glancing left and right. On the ground a few feet away lay her bag, and she rushed over to it. Maybe she could call her mom, or her brother, and get their help. But after she’d scrambled to her bag and dumped its contents out onto the ground, she realized quite quickly that not only was she in the middle of nowhere with no idea where she was, but she also had no phone, no wallet, and nothing except the magazine she’d read on the flight, her diary, two pens, and the airplane vouchers. A lot of good those would do now.

What was she supposed to do in this predicament? Then a bit of her therapist’s advice came back to her. Uma had told her to take three deep breaths and picture herself in a special place whenever she started to get tense. So Iris did this now, shutting her eyes and visualizing herself in a hammock on a beach, with two gorgeous women fanning her with palm fronds. And then she added the thought that the two women were naked because, hell, it couldn’t hurt. And why not make them lay down a blanket and undress her, and start…

“Damn it.” Yes, it’d been far too long since she’d had sex, because here she was, lost and without any way to get un-lost, and she was fantasizing. The fantasy, though, had seemed to clear her head, because as she opened her eyes, she felt at least a little calmer.

With the small bit of calm she’d managed to generate with her fantasy, she could take in her surroundings a bit better. About fifty feet to her left stood a large domed structure, which looked ancient. She might as well check it out. Perhaps she’d find some sort of ancient communication device in it, too. So she quickly stuffed everything back into her bag and walked the short distance to the building’s entrance.

Once inside, she observed what little she could with the moon’s light coming through mid-sized openings in its circular, single wall. There seemed to be some kind of art on it. Squinting to make it out, she walked a little closer to one of the walls and felt the ground begin to shake slightly. So Holland had earthquakes, apparently, and she was here just in time to experience one. If she was even in Holland. Iris might have started wondering again if she’d ever see her home again; Iris might have started to worry she’d never see anyone she loved ever again; and while she was at it, Iris might have started worrying that she’d never get to have sex again. All of these worries would possibly have occurred to her if the floor hadn’t cracked and then collapsed, causing her to scream as she fell into the darkness below.

She dropped for what seemed like ages, all the while screaming the loudest she probably ever had. And then, just as suddenly as the falling had started, it stopped, as she landed with a small thudding noise on top of something that made a sound somewhat like Oof! This something, whatever it was, looked like the sky had before she’d started falling, except she could see no moon, and the stars only covered a small bit of space beneath her.

“You can stop screaming now,” the sky said, and then she felt the sky reaching out to her right.

The shock of sudden brightness all around her forced her to shut her eyes, and she slowly reopened them as they adjusted to the light. She was in a room, made out of wide wooden slats, with a kitchen, a table and several chairs, and a small, blanketed bed that she happened to be on top of. The room’s light was coming from a small kerosene lamp on the table to her right. But its flame didn’t look quite normal to Iris. Not that any of this looked—or seemed—normal.

“So, how did you get here, pretty lady?” It was the same voice that had spoken before, and so the last thing Iris noticed about the room she was in was that it held a beautiful, pitch-black-skinned woman, with tiny, twinkling lights spread across her skin. Apparently, the night sky she’d fallen on was a woman, with some amazingly rendered tattoos. And this tattooed woman, with kissable, shimmery white lips and short, messy white hair, happened to think she was pretty.

“Me?” Iris squeaked.

“Who else do you see in this room, other than you and me?”

Iris couldn’t help it—she started to giggle, giggles that turned into loud laughs, laughs that would have gone on for a long time if the woman hadn’t interrupted them with the words, “Well, wherever you’ve come from, and whatever you’re laughing about, I don’t care to find out right away. Instead, will you let me kiss you?”

Right then Iris realized the woman was naked, each of her erect nipples matching the color of her lips and peeking out from underneath the bed’s blanket.

Iris wouldn’t have normally responded the way she did to this woman’s words, but now, after she’d lost her luggage, her way, and, seemingly, her mind, she couldn’t deny it. She was horny as hell, she had a sexy, naked goddess beneath her, and the mere suggestion of a kiss had her cunt throbbing in a way it never had before.

“Yes, go ahead,” she murmured, and the star-covered, naked woman placed her hand on Iris’s cheek and kissed her.

Iris melted as soon as the woman’s lips touched hers, the heat that had begun in her thighs and crotch now spreading throughout her entire body. It seemed as if the heat was going to travel to every place the woman touched her. One of her ebony, star-flecked hands caressed Iris’s shoulder first, then drifted over to her collarbone, where the woman traced it with the backs of her fingers, sending a slight shiver down Iris’s back.

“I feel underdressed,” the woman whispered across Iris’s lips. “Why don’t you help me to feel more comfortable by taking off some of your copious amount of skin covering material?”

“My…my clothes, you mean?” Iris glanced down at what she was wearing—a loose, thigh-length T-shirt and gray slacks. Her shoes were even still on. “I’m sorry,” she told the woman as soon as she realized this. “I definitely shouldn’t have my shoes on your bed. Just give me a moment.”

“I’ll give you a moment, but not much longer. I’m dying to see if your body is as delectable as your face and hair.”

Delectable? Me?

Iris noticed a mirror to the left of the bed now and took a moment to see if she looked any better than usual. Her chin-length, straight brown hair was messier than she liked it to be, probably from sleeping in that field, and her makeup was completely gone, although her parted lips looked pinker than usual, and her cheeks were flushed in a nice way, too, probably from her current arousal.

“Stop admiring your attractive face and show me your body, whatever your name is.”

“Iris. It’s Iris,” she answered, turning away from the mirror and back toward the woman.

As she pulled her T-shirt over her head, she heard the woman say, “My name is Anandra. I can truthfully say it is far more than a pleasure to meet you, or it will be once you press your naked skin against mine. It’s been much too long since I’ve given myself over to another woman’s body. Almost three weeks, if my count is right.”

“Three weeks?” Iris whispered. “How about a year?”

“What was that?” Anandra asked, now back in view, as Iris’s T-shirt hit the floor. She made quick work of taking off her bra, and then she slipped out of her shoes and stripped off her pants and panties. Now she was just as naked as the woman before her, if not more, because she might possibly be wearing some underwear on her lower half, all of it still hidden beneath the bed’s covers. Luckily for Iris, she was just about to find out.

This woman, this Anandra, made her mouth water like it hadn’t in a year. Or maybe longer, because her hunger for Anandra was too strong to fight. Not that she wanted to, not in the least. This may have been a very strange situation, but she’d never seen a woman as tasty-looking as this one, and if she was lucky enough to be wanted by her, there wasn’t a chance in hell Iris would refuse her advances.

Available from:
Bold Strokes Books

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