Can Do Ep. 11

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Winter in the Alps is more than a season; it’s a state of being. The mountains clad in snow well down their flanks, the crisp cold made biting by the wind, the ruddy-cheeked complexion of nearly everyone, the ever-present smell of a fire burning somewhere inviting people to come inside and have a mug of mulled wine. All these things Trinity Stone knew from books and movies, yet the actual experience was beyond anything she’d experienced. That she shared it with Zenova made her shiver from memory and anticipation. A warm hand cupping her breast from behind, long breath in her ear, a hard cock pressed firmly between her buttocks sent her into yet another orgasm.

“All I must do to make you come is blow in your ear? If I knew this before now, I would be doing it all the time,” Zenova de Crie purred in her intoxicating French lilt, exhaling moist heat again. Trinity trembled, her orgasm internal this time, which was just as well. Cum drooled from her cock over the hand gripping her erection and onto the window sill. A large splatter dripped slowly down the glass. She planned to save the bigger orgasms for when she came inside her lover’s pussy or mouth. No sense in wasting it.

The view of the Inn River from the gasthaus window was mundane. The water gurgled turgidly east on its way to the Danube. Farther upstream, near the source, lay St. Moritz where, even now, patrons of the Hexagon Consortium gathered for the final of the first annual World Sexfight Championship. She and Zenova were due there the next day. Her heart raced, her breath became shallow, not from the expert hands of her lover, but from regret.

“Can we stay here?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. “Call in sick, tell ’em we’ll try again next year?”

“Destiny awaits, ma chérie,” Zenova whispered, though they were the only ones in the room, the only ones in the gasthaus save the owners.

The very sound of her lover’s voice made Trinity want to come again. And again. And again. It was equal parts lust and being relaxed and being close to Zenova. Most of the sensation, unfortunately, was due to Ronja’s and Yelena’s Christmas gift: a dose of enhancement made especially for the two of them–or so Ronja said with her usual wicked grin. It must be true, the blonde decided. Neither she nor the olive-skinned brunette had been soft or sore or reluctant for sex for two days. Trinity’s memory told her an erection lasting more than four hours was a bad thing–or did that only apply to older men in search of their lost youth? For Zenova and her it had been an extravagant fuckfest–not quite as intense as the first time in Belgium, but gooey enough–one that would likely lose them their deposit to pay for cleaning the room.

“Your destiny, you mean,” Trinity answered still watching the river. “I’m only along for the ride, if I listen to you. In four days, you plan to stand over my exhausted body dripping the last of your cum on my face while I burble demands for a rematch. That about it?” A gentle squeeze was all the response she got.

Am I going to let her win? Trinity asked herself, avoiding the answer that made her head swim with confusion and guilt. Pretty sure I can take her–if I want to. Do I want to? Do I want to shatter all her dreams of glory, just to prove a point? Trinity leaned back against warm nipples and breasts, feeling Zenova’s heartbeat. No, she told herself. Even if I I know I can beat her, I don’t want to. Not anymore. I want this to last forever.

“Come to bed,” Zenova insisted, tugging at Trinity’s arm. “I want my next climax while wrapped around you. And the one after that, and …”

“I got a better idea, babe,” the blonde replied, lying on the bed, face up, head near an extravagantly carved footboard. “Put that slick pussy and cock close to my chin. Not that way, face up. I’m going to make you cry.”

“I never cry,” the brunette lied. “I have intense orgasms, which bring an inadvertent release of moisture from my eyes.”

“Like I said, cry. Hold still, I’m gonna release some moisture down here.” Trinity settled her head between Zenova’s spread legs, looking up at her around a glistening pussy and cock. Her own legs settled on her lover’s shoulders, who lay propped on all the pillows, looking down with a mixture of anticipation and lust.

The blonde licked the damp folds of skin around Zenova’s pussy, working her tongue and fingers deep into the fragrant depths, feeling the Kegel muscles clench around her. She lost herself in slick skin, curly pubic hair, and a long cock drooling cum across her forehead and nose as she sucked and bit. The brunette bucked, shoving her crotch harder against the oral assault, small whimpers escaping her lips.

How many times Zenova climaxed, Trinity didn’t know or care. All that mattered to her was she was where she wanted to be with the one person in the world who felt just right. She ignored the increased moans, the random pleas to stop, followed by a hand shoving her face hard into the eager sex, kocaeli escort begging her to never stop. She didn’t need to come herself, not yet. Her turn as a drooling mass of orgasmic flesh would come, as it had many times in the last two days. They might even sleep between fucks, though it seemed she always woke with her cock in her lover’s cunt or the opposite. It didn’t matter. Both of them knew how to drive the other to ecstasy and weren’t afraid to push the boundaries of stamina. The brunette shuddered one more time. Trinity grinned, feeling cum drip down her face as she worked her tongue further into Zenova’s cunt.


“Don’t go limp on me, salope, it is no fun if you do not struggle.”

Zenova held Trinity in a reach around position, fucking her from behind, dusky legs wrapped over pale legs to spread the blonde’s crotch. The brunette held the blonde’s head arched back with a hand cupped around the mouth. The free hand slapped and stroked a rigid cock, occasionally trying to stick a finger into a pussy already stuffed with Zenova’s erection.

“Mmmph. Og knt brf.”

“What?” Zenova moved her fingers from Trinity’s mouth.

“Fah, blech. I said I can’t breathe, slag. I’m supposed to be enjoying this, not fighting to stay conscious. Fuck, woman, let me have a good time, too.” The blonde was only mildly angry. The cock inside her felt good, the attention to her own cock made her tremble and come in random spurts. Being stretched was good, but she needed air.

“Je suis désolé, ma chérie. Sorry. I became seduced by your pussy massaging my cock and forgot myself. Is this better?” Zenova’s hand moved to Trinity’s chin, arching her backward more.

“Ungh. Yeah. I like that. Make me come again.”

“Only if you resist.”

The women strained, muscle against muscle, the constant stroke of Zenova’s cock mimicked by the sway of Trinity’s oozing erection. They fucked in silence, sweat dappling their bodies as the blonde pretended to attempt escape and Zenova pretended to restrain her. Trinity came first, cum spurting to coat both their faces, pussy clenching around Zenova’s cock until she came shuddering through her climax as cum leaked in thin sheets from the blonde’s already full pussy to coat cock and inner thighs. The women settled into the mattress, Trinity still impaled on her lover.

“Did you bite my shoulder?”

“Yes, It will heal before we meet the Consortium.”

“It better.”


Zenova hung backwards, Trinity’s holding her neck to keep her from falling off the blonde’s cock as the women fucked near the bed. Trinity was standing, cock buried in Zenova’s pussy. The brunette was supported by a pair of hands and her legs wrapped around her lover’s waist. Over a time neither cared to know, they’d worked themselves into an exquisite rhythm, both breathing hard, unwilling to give up, desperate to give in.

Well over two hours before, they were dressed and ready for food and sight-seeing. Trinity nibbled Zenova’s ear, who responded with a hand under the blonde’s shirt, who stuck a hand down the brunette’s pants, who ripped open the blonde’s shirt. It got more inventive from there. An hour later, the pair lay on the floor in the remains of their clothes, Zenova fucking Trinity from behind, the erratic beginning of the rhythm they would find later. Cum leaked from both pussies, small drying puddles of the silky liquid dappled the polished wood floor.

“That the best you got?” Trinity gasped. Zenova gripped her by her short blonde hair; she’d kept the length after the month in Belgium, liking the look, grateful not have to put her locks in cornrows every couple of weeks.

In response, Zenova sat upright, one hand still buried in golden strands, continuing the strokes that made both women lose focus often, to stick a sweaty thumb in Trinity’s ass. The blonde moaned. Gotta remember, she told herself, she likes it better than me.

“A cock in the ass is nice, isn’t it, ma chérie? But for true bliss a well placed finger replaces the much thicker cock and can find all the right places.” Zenova worked her thumb in and around the anus, making Trinity shudder with another orgasm.

“Ungh, harder, babe, c’mon, make me beg for it,” Trinity said around ragged breaths. Yeah, I want it, she told herself, and when it’s my turn, she’s gets a long finger instead of a thumb. I can hit both her spots at the same time, pussy and ass. Aloud, she’d whimpered, “Oh, fuck, yeah, there, more, right there.”

In their standing position, neither woman was able to reach the ass. It didn’t matter, they’d hit all the right spots since tearing off their clothes earlier. Zenova hung from her hand around Trinity’s neck, while the blonde removed one hand from her lover’s neck to stroke the dusky cock as they continued to fuck. A steady flow of cum coated Trinity’s hand as she worked the glans and frenum. In a moment of inspiration, she stuck her cum-covered fingers in her lover’s mouth, who kocaeli escort bayan sucked at them eagerly, swallowing her own semen in random gulps. It was too much for the brunette. She began twitching, moaning around the slick fingers, pussy spasming, cock releasing even more cum as she came, slowing down like an ancient steam locomotive, all wheeze and shudder.

Trinity laid Zenova on the bed, standing on tired legs to admire her work, cock still erect. She hadn’t come this round; she didn’t plan to. It was going to be her statement: she was stronger than Zenova, with more stamina. The brunette levered herself upright, sucking in the drooling pale erection. Trinity whined in frustration and ecstasy.

“No, wait, you need to rest, get your mouth off my cock. Don’t do that, it doesn’t feel … fuck, right there … no, I won’t come, you can’t make me, I’m … aww, fuck …”

They collapsed on the bed in an awkward tangle, Trinity still buried in Zenova’s mouth. Neither woman could move or speak, which, for the moment, was what they both wanted.


“That feels nice,” Zenova purred. “Use your teeth. Yes.”

The pair lay molded into each other on the bed, sweat and cum mostly dry, their partly flaccid cocks as entwined as their legs. Trinity bit her lover’s nipple hard enough to draw a satisfied sigh from the brunette. Zenova pushed the damp blonde head away to suck in a tongue and tweak a pale nipple with her fingers.

Trinity drew back to focus on Zenova, exuberantly happy and completely worn out for the moment.

“This has been the best so far, babe. Even better than the enhancement we got in August.

“Yes,” Zenova answered with a contented exhale of cum-laced breath. “Ronja said it was made for us. I think she meant it literally, that it was, em, mettre au point–tuned to us. Is that the right word?”

“Probably. Feels like it, feels like you and me fit together like two halves of the same thing.” Trinity kissed her lover with a light brush of lip against lip. “But I’m worried it’s only been two days. Enhancement is supposed to last three days. We’re going to be in St. Moritz tomorrow, meeting with the Consortium. Will we be, uh, recovered enough by then?”

“I no longer care, ma chérie,” the brunette answered. “I am with you. It is all that is important.”

“So,” Trinity said, allowing a sly smile to cross her face, “you don’t care anymore who wins or loses?”

“I did not say that. Even though you are much better than you were the first time we met, I will win the championship. You must admit I am the better sexfighter.”

Trinity said nothing, she didn’t want an argument now. The truth, as she saw it, was the outcome of the championship match wasn’t a lock for Zenova. If I want it, I can take it, she told herself. The real question is: do I want to?

Aloud, she changed the subject. “You hungry?”

“No, Trinity. I am content to be here with you.”

The blonde stroked her lover’s face. “Je t’aime,” she whispered.

“I love you,” Zenova whispered back.


They took an early train from Innsbruck. As Trinity expected, they lost the room deposit and gained a withering glare from the hausfrau. It was worth it, she told Zenova.

The trip was nearly five and a half hours on a series of local trains partly along the Inn until heading west into Lichtenstein, then south, with train changes are Sargans and Chur. The first class seats kept them relatively isolated from the tourists and locals all bent on finding someplace interesting to celebrate the new year. They slept most of the way, nestled together, hands entangled, with the knowledge that two women seeming intimate in Europe wasn’t cause for outrage–as in other places.

South of Chur, Trinity began arranging things in case someone asked for her papers. Zenova snorted her derision, pointing out it was the European Union and such things didn’t happen anymore. Trinity pointed out she was American–a foreigner–and she wasn’t taking any chances. As she leafed through her passport, a business card fell out. The stiff, black card stock was solid in her hand, slightly raised letters in elegant argent script: Hexagon Consortium. On the back was a handwritten note in painfully exact cursive with a completely outlandish signature. Zenova leaned over to look.

“What is that?”

“The card Bunny gave me the last time we met, in Bangkok. He said I might need it. Where’s yours? Don’t tell me he didn’t give you one, too.”

Zenova pulled a similar card from her wallet with the same note on the back. “Was it wrong of us to accept his invitation to St. Croix in September?” she asked. “The island was nice, he was nice.”

“The sex was amazing.” Trinity turned to look at her lover face on. “The man held his own for three days, never lost his sense of humor, even when you put him in a camel clutch and stuck your …”

“Yes, well, he likes that. Besides, you lost the bet with him to see escort kocaeli how far down each of you could get …”

“Yeah. Bunny’s an OK guy. He didn’t ask us to do anything we wouldn’t have anyway, and he never promised us any favors or made us feel like were supposed to ‘adjust’ the end of any match. I think he likes energetic sex and the way we do it. What was the woman’s name, his companion, the one we double-teamed on the last day?”


“Yeah. What a mouth.” Trinity put the card away.

Zenova laid her head on the blondes shoulder. “Oui, ma chérie, an amazing mouth.”

Trinity put her arm around her lover. They dozed.


It was near 13 hours when the train chugged to a diesel-fumed stop at the moderately picturesque St. Moritz train station with its small clock tower surrounded by the Alps. Luggage in tow, they separated at the taxi stand with a lingering kiss. Zenova watched her two hard side cases loaded, restraining herself from offering the driver directions. She eyed Trinity’s single shoulder bag.

“Is your formal wear in there? You should hope the hotel has a good laundry service.”

“Mel’s got the big bag, she brought it with her. Don’t worry, I’ll be dressed to make the Consortium drool, won’t embarrass you–much.”

Trinity got in her taxi. Fortunately, the driver spoke some English, but ‘Hotel Nolda’ was all he really needed. The cabs drove south along Via St. Gian, Trinity following Zenova. She watched people skate and play hockey on the frozen surface of the lake until the taxi crossed the Inn River again. There was snow everywhere, more than she’d ever seen. It lay atop buildings in a thick pillow, drifted across the ground, piled along side the roads. The brilliant blue sky made everything sparkle, nearly blinding at times. She was glad she brought her sunglasses, though she’d argued with Melanie earlier she didn’t need them, it was winter.

Within five minutes, she turned right across a small bridge to a short street, at the end of which sat her nice upscale hotel. Zenova continued south to the Kempinski Grand Hotel des Bains St. Moritz, a more elegant–and expensive–hotel. It was also where the championship match would take place. Even though Trinity could afford the price, she and Mel decided it was best to stay separate from Zenova, and the Nolda was very nice, as well as a short walk to the Grand Hotel.

Melanie was already in the suite, talking to Willow–as usual. Trinity dropped her bag, and went to the bar for a drink. Her manager waved, never taking her eyes off the tablet.

She went to her room to unpack. Another, larger suitcase sat in a corner. Clothes hung in the closet. Underwear and socks were laid out neatly in a dresser drawer. Typical Mel, unable to pass up an opportunity to tell her fighter and former sex partner–never, ever a lover–she was a slob. Trinity checked the formal clothes. The long bag hung straight, everything inside wrinkle-free and stunning. The blonde smiled. Zenova didn’t know what she planned to wear.

In the living area between the bedrooms, Melanie continued to coo at the tablet. Trinity sat on the opposite couch sipping her drink, a reasonable blended Scots whiskey.

“Want to say hello?” her manager asked, offering the tablet. Trinity took it, seeing her sister in full pre-motherhood glow.

“Hi, Willow,” she said, thinking how quickly she’d accepted her sister’s new name. Was it really only eight months ago?

The woman on the screen radiated good health and the ethereal beauty some women get as birth approaches. Wendy–Willow–had always been the one with the looks, the ones the boys chased. Trinity picked up the dregs of her followers, the ones who didn’t seem to mind she had a cock as big–more often bigger–than theirs. Her braids and curls floated about her head; her eyes glistened, her cheeks were full and rosy. Damn it, the woman was pregnant and enjoying it, while she sat in a Swiss hotel in the Alps with a knot in her stomach. It wasn’t fair.

“You look good, Trin,” Willow said. “A bit thin and hard but healthy. Have you been meditating to keep your aura properly adjusted? When you left for Europe last week it seemed out of balance.”

Thanks, just what I needed. Aloud, she said, “Yes, Willow, I do it every day.” It was true, she took at least thirty minutes every morning to contemplate the large dial and the locked door beneath it. For the past two days, she’d done it with Zenova, which was a lot more fun.

“You feeling OK?” she asked Willow. “Getting to be that time, I guess.”

“The baby is kicking and anxious to be borne, but I am not yet ready. I miss Melanie. She is my rock on bad days.”

Yeah, well she’s my manager, and I need her more right now. Trinity was immediately ashamed of her selfish thought. Melanie did belong with Willow, but was here, by her own choice. Trinity wasn’t getting between the baby’s mother and father. She smiled instead. “I understand. Hope you can wait until we get back. Eat good stuff and keep you own aura purple. Bye.”

Feeling awful, she gave the tablet to Melanie, who began another mundane conversation. Trinity drained her scotch, went to the bedroom and lay on the bed trying not to think of Zenova. Eventually, she fell asleep.

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