MtK update

Rachel Roth—Raven, as anyone who actually knew her knew her—sat in her kitchen, draining the tenth cup of her morning coffee. It was almost noon and her therapist had encouraged her to get up bright and early, but with nothing to do, she simply sat and plied her system with enough coffee to make it functional when she would rather be sleeping.

But if you slept too much, you were depressed. And Raven couldn’t allow herself to be depressed. It was one more way Trigon might attack her. So even in trying to improve herself, she was acting on behalf of dear old dad. Anything she did for herself was more important for how it affected him.

“You could use a shower,” Raven said aloud as she walked to her bathroom and flicked on the light. Did it really matter? Would it stop Trigon from ever possessing her again? Or would it just contribute to the mental fortitude that came in so handy at beating her father down?

Raven decided to have a bath. If she fell asleep in the tub, it wouldn’t really count. It’d be self-care. She’d be making herself nice and clean and happy.

Silently she turned on the bathwater. Her overactive mind managed to fix itself on the water, waiting for it to fill up the tub, then checking its temperature. It was far too hot to get in yet and watching water cool was hardly the stimulation she needed.

Instead, her reflection caught her attention. Raven turned to the mirror. She slipped her nightie from her sloping shoulders and dropped it into the laundry hamper. Steam heated the room and she took a deep breath of it, feeling it warm her lungs.

She moaned softly and stretched her arms high above her head, working some kinks out of her supple muscles. That offered her some satisfaction. Once more, her eyes snagged on the woman in the mirror—the look of momentary looseness on her pretty face. It was a pretty face, wasn’t it? In fact, all of her was… not bad.

Raven looked over the supple lines of her extended body, examining the firm roundness of her cleavage and the sensuous roll of her hips. She put her arms down and touched her breasts, tensing for a moment at the tingling that greeted her contact.

It was always like this, she thought, toying with her pink nipples and their almost-painful sensitivity. With each touch, tingling shivered its way down her body, stopping at her thighs and radiating inward. Her nipples were hardening, growing more tender, easier to touch. Small warm droplets ran out of her slit and anointed her pubic thatch.

It all made Raven think of some of the passion she’d sampled secondhand over the years. Almost everyone she knew thought about sex and, when she weakened, she could taste that thinking—enough to know what it would be like. Especially when they were actually doing it, their thoughts so loud and vivid that Raven literally could not block them out.

Or so she told herself.

She knew the animal passion that Kory drove out of Dick, needing it to sate her own wild exuberance. Raven ran her hands down her body, wondering if she could take that bestial force. Slowly stroking her soft flesh while she remembered bunking in the room next door to Dick and Kory, feeling their roughness like it had a direct line to her sexual core. They’d both been consumed by their animal urges; knowing that bruising each other was worth it to get the satisfaction they so wanted.

Thinking about Dick and Kory making love could only grow to include Raven’s own self-image; she couldn’t separate herself from how sheerly voluptuous their fucking was. She imagined Dick’s sweaty body on top of hers, rocking with her in ceaseless motion as he gave her the kind of pleasure Kory screamed about.

But she didn’t have Dick. She only had her own fingers. Her fingers and the soft, satiny hair that grew between her thighs—the tingle that was like that in her breasts when she touched them, only stronger, bigger. Closer to the surface.

Raven remembered her mother telling her that a woman’s body was to be loved and cared for. She knew the purity of Dick’s heart; that was all he wanted for any of the girls he was attracted to. It took a lot for Kory to bring out the beast in him that she needed to satiate her.

Raven explored the trembling pink lips of her womanhood. She’d love it if Dick were simply gentle and caring with her. But if he wanted to be wild… if he would enjoy being that way with her as much as he did with Kory…

She shouldn’t think about that. She couldn’t. Raven knew she had to curb the rising desire she felt—at least stop touching the softness of her body and inspiring more fervent, uncontrollable desires. But her hand had already wandered between her legs and there was no ignoring how good it felt.

Raven’s body trembled; she tried desperately to shake off the rising passion that attacked her on all fronts. Filling her moistening sex, her swelling breasts, even her ass.

Once before, years ago, she had been gripped by the same need. She remembered touching herself, masturbating her quivering lips until her tiny clitoris rewarded her with its hardness. There had been no turning back then, and she had fallen into a fever of self-pleasure, touching herself more and more until her whole body went over to delicious tremors.

And then, shamelessly, like a woman possessed, she had tried to steal Dick from Kory, nearly ruining her relationship with both halves of the couple forever.

Raven looked at the mirror now and saw her jaw slack, her face a mask of lustful wants.

“Mmmmmm,” she moaned happily, knowing Dick would just love to see his latest conquest like this—beaming with the knowledge that he’d pleased another woman, given her ecstasy beyond even how good she thought it would be when she saw his perfect masculine beauty… who could look away from such a gorgeous man…?

I can’t, I mustn’t! Raven told herself. It should be enough for her that her friends were happy; how could she risk tearing apart such a beautiful romance as theirs? She recalled the enormous guilt she had harbored even after she’d come to her senses. It was all wrong, so wrong, but it felt like…

Please, stop this, she begged her uncontrollable body. Raven looked like another person in the mirror, her face flushed with need, eyes flashing with lust enough to bury the terrible guilt she was already starting to feel.

Raven made herself stop as quickly as she had begun. With all her will, she forced her fingers from the warmth of her sex and breathed a sigh of relief. The embers of yearning still remained in her body, but she knew they would go away with the passage of enough time. Not entirely, but enough that she could suppress them once more.

The bath would help soothe the throbbing she felt and allow her to ignore what her body thought it needed.

Gingerly Raven lowered her body into the steamy water, feeling the bracing heat of it slap at the soft moons of her buttocks. Comforting warmth surrounded her thighs as she set herself down—she moaned aloud, sinking into the water until she was buried in it.

Then Raven sat up, her sleek body emerging nymphlike from the water, and she picked up a washcloth. She looked down at her breasts, wondering if she should start with them and get them out of the way or leave them more time to abandon their sensitivity. They rose and fell in slow, even rhythm—dancing with jeweled droplets each time they emerged from the water. The same scalding-hot water that was mixing with the warm arousal of her trembling sex.

Raven decided to just do what came naturally and she soaped her breasts carelessly. She lifted one leg and lathered the trim, creamy skin with the washcloth. It was all done so thoughtlessly that no eroticism intruded into it. That was the way, she decided. No being neurotic about it—that only increased the temptation. She simply had to avoid these tug-of-wars between her higher functions and base wants.

The doorbell chimed suddenly, breaking the neat equilibrium of her thoughts.

“Great,” Raven remarked bitterly, getting up and grabbing her robe and going to the door all wet and soapy. She knew the reputation she had around town; someone would ring her doorbell only if it was a matter of the utmost urgency.

Or if it was Kory.

Her sunny friend stood on her lack-of-welcome-mat, holding a large package. “Hi. This was on the curb.” She handed it to Raven. “I guess it was too big for your slot!”

“Thanks,” Raven said, finding herself once more admiring Kory’s breasts.

Which was fair on most days, since Kory hardly hid them, but especially today, because Kory was admiring Raven’s.