The fingers continued to move, still rhythmically, but harder and faster now, while Dora’s mouth was still attending to Eleanor’s clit. Was it possible to have too much pleasure? And then suddenly the wave that had been approaching burst over her and she was writhing on the bed, her thighs locked around Dora’s neck, almost as if she might stifle her, while Eleanor put her hand between her legs, grasping Dora’s hand, as if she feared it might be snatched away too soon.
At last the spasms subsided. Eleanor put her hand to Dora’s face and stroked her cheek. “Thank you,” she said. “I had no idea it could be so wonderful.” She wondered if it could ever be as good with a man. What if she liked it more with women? She had heard there were such women, who only ever did it with their own kind, wh
