The Venus of Mars update

Time stopped and started for Thuvia. Distracted by Phaidor’s watchful eyes and avid interest, she had somehow put off the realization that her clothes were off, that she now stood with her legs apart, her cunt exposed. Dejah’s hand was caressing her sex, reflecting back to Thuvia how wet and hot her pussy was. A feeling of exciting lewdness flooded over her. Her tongue flicked out to find Dejah’s and the two combined into a slow kiss as she rid Dejah of the last few jewels she wore. Her perfect body didn’t need them and Thuvia wanted no distractions from the sight of the incomparable Dejah Thoris.

Thuvia could hear Phaidor murmuring under her breath, sounds of approval. More than hearing, she could feel her. The chamber swam in a sexual heat that brought out the heady smell of sweat and feminine arousal.

Dejah and Thuvia stood face to face, completely naked now, their lips kissing and kissing and kissing as if they could not get enough of the taste of each other, but could not long stand the intensity of the contact either. Dejah reached out to Thuvia, touching her breast with the tip of her finger before running it down the perfect heft of her teat, down down down the diamond-perfect flatness of Thuvia’s belly. Even though her slow touch was still nowhere near Thuvia’s cunt, the redhead felt arousal between her legs, electric in its anticipation, for the coming feeling.

Thuvia had to return that arousal. She did something she had never dreamed she’d do—caressing Dejah’s breasts, teasing her nipples into expressions of taut lust, arousing her with a woman’s knowledge of what a woman enjoyed.

Phaidor was beside herself watching the two girls. Never, never in her life had she seen two women so beautiful, two women so enthralled with each other, their raptly enticed captivation entirely justified by each other’s beauty. The pleasure Phaidor knew they could give to each other. She watched as if in a drugged stupor, unblinking, feeling the wake of the arousal that was cresting in the two of them.

She saw the pair going wild, exciting each other to the point of crazed abandon—felt the excitement and tension mount as Dejah’s fingers reached Thuvia’s cunt. The redhead bent her legs slightly, spread them apart, thrusting her hips out to meet Dejah’s touch as Dejah slid two fingers into her open cunt. 

Phaidor could see how taut Thuvia’s pussy was with passion, juicy to the touch, glistening with arousal that held to Dejah’s fingers as she withdrew them from Thuvia’s sex and then rammed them back in. Dejah’s other hand wrapped with one of Thuvia’s, guiding it down between her own legs, to touch her as she was touching the gorgeous Thuvia. 

Thuvia let Dejah take her hand to the black tuft of her pubic hair, soft and wispy, so unlike the taut red skin of her, with its heat, its splendidly chiseled firmness. Dejah let go of her hand there. Thuvia was free to explore, touching and feeling her way into Dejah’s sex. 

The tip of her middle finger touched the swollen petals of Dejah’s labia. It was the first time she had ever touched another woman so intimately and Thuvia thrilled at the sensation, so alike touching her own flesh yet so very different. She ran her finger along the moistened lips, feeling how they burned, how they dripped, the excitement trembling in Dejah enough to shake her hips.

They were so close now, touching at the breasts and hips. Unconsciously their shoulders swayed in sync, their nipples touching. Thuvia’s finger disappeared in Dejah’s warm, wet sex. She thrust it in and out, pumping her hips as Dejah did the same to her. Soon, Dejah was swaying her hips as well, as if joined to Thuvia in dance.

Ironically, despite the mounting action, the room was now completely silent. Sex hung in the air. Every thought in Phaidor’s mind stemmed from what she was watching, the two women caressing each other so intimately, so uncaring whether it was obscene or not. 

Thuvia’s eyes closed. Her body ignited with the passion from Dejah’s knowing touches. Through her trembling ecstasy, she barely felt Dejah’s finger slipping away from her, coming out of her pussy and then Dejah’s hands circled around her hips. She cupped Thuvia’s ass and pulled her in, bringing them together. Similarly, Thuvia gripped Dejah’s buttocks and helped pull their bodies ever closer.

They stood there with their bodies flush against one another, their backs arched to press their groins together, heads thrown back in the agonized abandon of feeling so much pleasure. Dejah’s dark hair hung behind her in a fine curtain while Thuvia’s red hair did the same, perfect mirror symmetry in two bodies that differed in everything but how beautiful they were. 

They ground their pussies together: Thuvia felt the thrill of her lower lips slipping and sliding against Dejah’s equally wet mons. Electric excitement ate away at her sanity as Dejah’s soft pubic hair tantalized her engorged clitoris, teased the tenderness of her cunt to new heights of sensitivity. They clutched each other, pumping their wet cunts obscenely together, seeking only to increase the sinful friction between them.

Thuvia was dizzy with lust, excitement. She fell into it even further, no longer caring what happened to her as long as this delicious torment built to its ultimate climax.

Phaidor cried out in delight to see Thuvia fall on the big cushion before her, sprawling across it with her legs still open to Dejah. Dejah took hold of Thuvia and pulled her hips closer until they were perched on the edge of the cushion. She spread Thuvia’s legs even wider, making her hold them open at a one hundred and eighty degree angle that was not necessary for oral sex, but that it pleased the royal in her to make Thuvia perform for her. 

Then Dejah knelt at the openness of Thuvia’s legs and used the palms of her hands to force the actual lips of Thuvia’s sex apart. She looked up Thuvia’s body, from the glossy redness of her sex so much like one of her tattoos to the milk-white body caressed with sigils and inscriptions, up to the full breasts and the head that fell in decadent expectation off the other side of the cushion. 

Dejah’s tongue darted out, licking around Thuvia’s belly button, following the circle of red tattoos that orbited it, then dipped the tip of her tongue into Thuvia’s navel itself. Thuvia let out a long sigh of relief to finally feel Dejah’s tongue begin to sate her need.

Seeing how near to frenzy Thuvia was, Dejah soothed her with long, slow kisses down the leanness of her stomach, as John Carter had done so many times to her. Finally, she buried her face in the thatch of red hair that marked Thuvia’s sex. She felt Thuvia’s cunt against her mouth, twitching convulsively, begging for her kiss as any lips would. 

Phaidor leaned forward, watching the meeting of feminine lips and feminine sex with aroused awe.

Thuvia threw her head back. Her despair at her imprisonment, her longing for John Carter, all of it was forgotten. She could only think of her lust in the here and now. She wanted nothing more than for Dejah Thoris to make love to her, for it to go on all night, for it to keep going forever.

Dejah’s tongue emerged from her lips like a skittish animal. It touched over the petals of Thuvia’s sex, swollen and tender—all of Thuvia reciprocated the taste Dejah got of her, moaning, shaking in delight. She thrust her hips up, offered herself to Dejah body and soul with nothing more than that motion. 

Watching, Phaidor murmured darkly to herself, growing even more excited. How she would’ve liked to accept the gift Thuvia offered up!

Slowly, slow enough to pain Thuvia with longing, Dejah’s tongue snaked around the redhead’s slit. She barely touched it, but the very absence of her touch teased Thuvia into depths of need she hadn’t known she was capable of. Thuvia groaned aloud as she shook and writhed with desire for Dejah, almost wishing the torturous whetting of her appetite would end. Never knowing such pleasures would be easier to bear than this!

Then, when her desperation had reached its zenith, Dejah plunged her tongue into Thuvia’s sex, to the very core of her aching need. Thuvia cried out, pulling her knees back to get them out of the way, crushing them against her magnificent tits and feeling nothing but Dejah’s wonderful tongue occupying her hot cunt, driving her mad with passion.

Dejah pulled her tongue away, moving it instead to Thuvia’s engorged clitoris. Thuvia couldn’t keep her hips still. She jerked around as if each lick of Dejah’s tongue was an electric shock.

Dejah, too, found herself wild with need. She came up and mounted Thuvia like a man, hips between Thuvia’s open legs, pussy grounding against Thuvia’s naked sex. “Have I pleased you?” she whispered in Thuvia’s ear, not willing to share all of this coupling with Phaidor’s voyeurism.

“Yesss,” Thuvia moaned.

“Would you do the same to me?”

“I’d love to! Yes, yes, whenever you want!” Thuvia replied hoarsely.

Their bodies, sharing sweat now, writhed together on the cushion. They kissed some more, kissing with both lips and cunts. Phaidor jerked to work the chair she was tied to closer, getting a better look at the sex. Sweat stood out on her drawn face and she licked her salty lips, while her mouth had become dry. She didn’t know which of the two women she wanted more, but she wanted to fuck as they did, in a passionate frenzy!

Thuvia certainly would’ve been able to understand Phaidor’s envy if she was aware of it. She wanted nothing more than to please her friend. She had to please her. The more that the two women kissed and touched and tasted, the more passionate Thuvia became. She was reaching heights of ecstasy she hadn’t known she’d possessed, a summit she had only hoped John Carter could bring her to, and now Dejah Thoris was doing it instead. 

She knew nothing but heated, driving, swelling pleasure. A frenzy that built and surged to become more than any orgasm she’d ever felt or imagined. The more she touched Dejah, the more excited she was. The more excited she was, the more she had to touch Dejah.

Thuvia was in total rapture: her eyes closed tightly, her teeth bared in the grimace she had to maintain to stand her ecstasy. She wrapped her long, tattooed legs around Dejah’s slender waist, locked her ankles, squeezed as hard as she could. Her yearning pussy caressed Dejah’s. They moaned, they licked, they shook with almost too much pleasure to keep pumping their hips together. Finally, they rocked their bodies too far—teetering from the cushion, falling to the floor and rolling apart with a heavy thud.

Dazed, Thuvia came up on her hands and knees. Dejah laid next to her on the carpet, spread-eagle, her moist pussy open to the eyes of both Thuvia and Phaidor.

Thuvia crawled between Dejah’s open legs, now unable to see the woman as anything but a sexual being. And there was no denying Dejah’s excitement, or that it was centered on her. Her own arousal had taken her into sex with Dejah in a haze of lust, but now, for the first time, she consciously saw Dejah as a lover. She moved all the way over Dejah, mounting her as Dejah had climbed atop her, her breasts just touching Dejah’s nipples.

She let her body sway left and right over Dejah, rubbing their nipples together. Then, remembering Phaidor was in the room, that her bare ass was facing her, Thuvia spread her legs wide, opening her knees until they touched the insides of Dejah’s splayed thighs. Phaidor leaned closer, nearly tipping over to see Thuvia’s pussy spread wide, redly glimmering.

Slowly, Thuvia lowered her body down to Dejah’s. Dejah thrust her hips up to meet hers. Thuvia settled her weight on top of Dejah. Now they were pressed together, wet cunts meeting, pumping their bodies together once more into obscene friction. 

Phaidor fell over, but didn’t care—she kept watching from the floor, squinting, her breath coming in quick little gasps. “Unbelievable… it can’t feel so good,” she muttered, her unblinking eyes glinting in the dim light. It was as if she couldn’t look away.

They were all hypnotized by the intensity and desperation and need behind what was happening. No one spoke—they all simply pressed closer. Even Phaidor strained against her bonds, trying to be part of what they were doing to each other. But she could only watch as Dejah seized her bountiful tits in her hands, cupping them, holding them up, letting them be Thuvia’s as Thuvia had offered her body over to her.

Thuvia bowed her head to Dejah’s left breast. Her tongue lapped at the hard nipple there and it felt strange on her tongue, knowing that it belonged to a friend, another woman. It was lewd, taboo, but she knew that it would excite Dejah. 

Thuvia slid over to Dejah’s other tit and took the angry red nipple into her mouth. She sucked at her, nibbled at it with the points of her teeth. Dejah’s hands tightened on her cupped breasts, offering them more fervently, and Thuvia enjoyed them—caressing them, sucking them, biting them. It was as if it was impossible for her mouth to bring Dejah anything but pleasure.

A mad urge grew in Thuvia—a heightened, impossible need to wrench herself out of the sweet torment of satisfying Dejah Thoris and bring herself the rapturous release of climax. Her body burned with that need, hotter and hotter. As Phaidor watched, Thuvia pressed her face to Dejah’s soft belly, the two moaning, Dejah’s hands playing with Thuvia’s long red hair. Eyes closed in ecstasy, Thuvia mouthed Dejah’s navel, her tongue going deep into it.

Thuvia’s mind was caught between satisfaction and desire, overwhelmed as if drugged. She felt like a spectator, outside of herself, watching the perversion of two women making love. But the sight was too arresting to deny. Even if she swapped places with Phaidor and could only see the sex instead of being a participant, she would still know how pleasurable it was, that she had to involve herself in it.

But am I really doing this? She wondered. Is that really me? Am I really feeling Dejah’s pubic hair… the insides of her thighs… her cunt itself?

Thuvia’s eyes were open only a slid, her eyelids heavy with desire. Not an inch away, crowning Dejah’s lovely thighs, was her black-haired cunt. Thuvia’s fingers felt like they belonged to someone else when she gently opened the swollen petals and saw into Dejah, her inner flesh bright pink, moist, softly clenching right before her eyes.

Am I going to do this? Perform an act that’s as close to fucking a woman as my body will allow? Am I finally, finally, going to taste Dejah Thoris?

Her tongue slowly went to Dejah, coming out of her lips like an animal going to a watering hole, until Thuvia closed her eyes and buried her face in Dejah’s lap. She felt the heat of Dejah’s cunt, the wetness she had caused in her, and her tongue flowed over Dejah’s mons in celebration of the arousal she was responsible for. 

Thuvia loved it. She knew how good what she was doing felt and the thought of satisfying Dejah as she had been satisfied thrilled her even more.

Dejah wrapped her legs around Thuvia’s head, thrusting her hips up so her groin undulated into the pleasure Thuvia was giving her. Her hands slapped the ground at her sides. Finally, Dejah writhed so hard that she rolled over, forcing Thuvia onto her back with Dejah on her stomach, straddling her face. Still Dejah’s hips pumped up and down, feeding her pussy into the maddening strokes of Thuvia’s tongue.

Thrashing her dark hair around and around, Dejah finally couldn’t take anymore. She leapt to her feet, magnificent chest heaving, her body glistening with every bit as much sweat as covered Thuvia.

“I need to fuck you!” Dejah gasped, helping Thuvia to her feet only to immediately force her to the large bed in the center of the chamber. “Please let me fuck you!” 

Phaidor mewled as she was left behind, only able to see them out of the corner of her eye.

Thuvia lay where Dejah had set her in a dream of lust. Everything was so unreal, yet she was certain it was happening. It felt real without seeming real, somehow. Woozily, she opened her legs, as if still performing for Phaidor, though they had long since ceased to care about her voyeurism no matter how arousing the exhibitionism was. The swollen lips of her pussy were more than glistening. She watched, her eyes slitted, fingertips idly caressing her engorged nipples, as Dejah ran to a dresser, dragged a drawer open, and dug through its contents.

Finally, she came up with what looked like a pillar in miniature, straps and buckles attached to it. Dejah stepped into it like a girdle, raised it between her legs and about her waist, then started securing it to her naked hips.

Thuvia could see now that it was a dildo, a sex toy, but meant to be worn like a man’s cock instead of held in the hand. Her breath came in hot gales as she watched Dejah tighten it across her buttocks, around each thigh, adjusting the buckles so that the shaft was upright. The other end of the artificial phallus was pointed into her own sex. Each thrust would please her almost as much as it did her lover—her victim.

“I found it among the other curiosities,” Dejah explained, sparing a glance for Phaidor. “You White Martians are inventive.”