Page 48 of My Darling Clementine

“No,” Clem said. “I’ve worked alongside men who think nothing of whipping out their johnsons to pee, sometimes right where they’re digging.” She made a face. “I can’t do that, and wouldn’t if I could. It fills out my trousers, gives me a male profile, and I find it useful on occasion.”

“Have you used that one with any women?” Kizzy tried to hide her feelings, but if it had been in someone else, she didn’t want it in her.

Looking shocked, Clem sat down on the bed beside her, “No, no. That would be wrong in so many ways. No, I’ve only used a johnson with the girls at Lady Jane’s, a new one each visit. I haven’t been with anyone else since finishing school.” She gestured at the bulge in her underwear. “I had plenty of time on the train from Boston and made this one and several others. I like being prepared.”

Kizzy watched Clem’s eyes travel from her lips to her covered breasts, to her exposed knees, then make their way back up again.

Clem licked her lips and said, “I’m still thirsty.” She handed her drink to Kizzy, who now had both hands full.

Clem cradled her head, kissing her, lips lingering as both hands dropped to Kizzy’s shoulders, hooked the robe and nightgown straps, and pulled everything down to her elbows, leaving her breasts exposed. Clem pulled back and looked at them, licking her lips. But instead of reaching for them, her hands settled around Kizzy’s waist as their eyes met. “Give me a drink.”

Kizzy held the champagne to Clem’s lips, tipping the glass until her mouth was full. Holding their drinks, supported by strong hands, she leaned back with her arms extended, breasts exposed, and offered herself.

Cool fizzy bubbles surrounded her nipple, and a hot, pointed tongue chased after them. Up, down, around and around, it drove her crazy with tingles, licking, and sucking. Then, instead of swallowing, Clem did the same to her second breast, and although the wine had warmed, it felt every bit as decadent and arousing. Cool in the air, the chill from the champagne made her nipples tighten.

“You,” Clem said, raising her head and kissing her lips, “are delicious.”

“How about you?” asked Kizzy, thrusting their glasses into her bridegroom’s hands and extending her arms. Finding the tucked end of Clem’s wrapping, she unwound the linen, and when two hard, round breasts with tucked-in nipples bounded into view, she enjoyed the sight of them rising and falling as Clem took deep breaths because she could.

Running her hands over smooth, muscled belly, Kizzy closed until they were nose to nose, and imitated her word for word. “Give me a drink.”

With wondering eyes, Clem watched over the rim of the glass as she filled Kizzy’s mouth with cool wine, but the big, tough prospector mewled like a newborn kitten when Kizzy treated her nipples to champagne, teasing them with her tongue until they popped out with want.

“Oh God, Kizzy. No one’s ever done that to me before,” she gasped. “It never occurred to me anyone would.” Something glistened in her eye before it disappeared. “Do it again, please?”

She did, enjoying the feel of Clem’s muscles under her hands as they traveled across her torso. As Kizzy licked the soft nipples into points, sucked them tight, and left them moist, a thought occurred to her. “You’ve always been the giver in bed, right?”

Clem nodded. “Yes, I’m the one who does the fucking, not the one getting fucked.” Her mouth twisted with wry shyness. “I’m sorry if the word is shocking, but that’s what it’s called. When I was away at school, and when I’m with the women I pay in Sacramento, I’ve always been the, what did you call it…giver? Yes, I did the giving, I never let anyone give to me.” She shrugged. “I never wanted it.”

“Did you use a johnson with the girls at the finishing school?” She trailed her fingertips over Clem’s sensitive breasts, delighting in her sighs, every arch of her back, and the moans when she pinched.

“I was living as a woman then, so no, just my fingers.”

“Same as I do.”

“They didn’t do me, though, I always did them. I never wanted them to touch me, I wouldn’t allow it.”

“What about with me?

“Kizzy,” Clem said, brown eyes opened wide, gazing at her. “I don’t want to fuc…, uh, I don’t want to do you.”

Stunned, surprised, she felt her heart stop beating for a moment. “You don’t?”

“At least, not this time. I want to share this with you, be equal lovers. It’s not like with the girls at school; find a stolen moment, take a stupid chance; hurry, hurry, hurry, so you don’t get caught. Or like laying my money down to take what I want.” Clem leaned in close. “You and I got married before witnesses, we have a legal permit to fuck.”

Kizzy’s boisterous laughter, and maybe the wine, caused her to tumble into Clem’s bare chest. “I guess a marriage certificate does give you a legal permit to fuck.” Her laugh grew louder, and she tried to contain it. “Oh, I feel so naughty.” She rubbed first noses, then their bare breasts together.

A playful light lit Clem’s eyes. “Oh, my pretty one, do you want to be naughty? Earn a spanking over my lap?”

“What? Like a child?” She shook her head. “I’m a grown woman.”

Clem smiled. “No, nothing like a child.” Her hand dropped to Kizzy’s hip and pinched her through the nightgown. “It’s a playful game where a woman’s beautiful bottom turns red and throbs as she grows passionate with want. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.”

Kizzy understood at once. “This is something the ‘working girls’ taught you. They spanked you?”

“Not me, silly girl.” Clem kissed her nose. “I’m the giver, remember?”

“You spanked them?”