Korrasami in the Spirit World, Finale
<<Read Part 2>>
Asami pulled off the tie around her ponytail and tilted her head back to shake out her own midnight-dark curls, exposing a long pale neck.
“Go on, then, Korra. You take the lead.”
Steeling her nerve, Korra reached for the zipper of the black-and-maroon Future Industries jacket. She fumbled it at first, feeling the pressure of her friend’s — her lover’s smoldering green gaze. Korra pulled the tag across the hill of Asami’s bust and the flat stomach below, until it unhooked, but she did not open the jacket yet.
Asami was rarely seen without a totally put-together outfit and Korra had long wondered what kind of clothing was normally worn under this familiar leather shell, but more than that, there was something else giving her pause.
“Asami, um, could you close your eyes?” Flinching at the arched brow as response, Korra repeated, “Just close ‘em for me, okay?”
“This should be good,” is what Asami said, but she complied all the same.
Slowly and gingerly, so as to not give away her intentions, Korra bent forward until her face was mere inches from Asami’s chest. She pulled the two sides of the jacket apart, and … dove in to take a long, deep whiff.
“Whoa!” Asami exclaimed. “What’s this all about?”
Korra couldn’t contain a deep belly laugh. She admired the contours of Asami’s figure under a nigh-sheer white camisole and what must have been a very expensive black lace bra. There was no way a person would dress like this unless they expected to be doing something other than going for a hike.
“Since your perfume story,” Korra explained, “I decided that I had to take a real good smell of ya.”
Asami’s fragrance of the day seemed to be camellia blossoms and … sandalwood? But there was also the distinct musk of well-worn leather and the slightest salty tinge of old sweat stains. This was Asami’s smell. Korra kept her head down, letting it suffuse her senses.
“I used to be able to give Naga a run for her money in the nose department, you know. Nobody could hide sweets in our kitchen!”
“You’re an absolute beast!”
To which The Avatar grinned and clacked her teeth by way of reply. She forcefully drew Asami’s jacket down to the elbows and pinned the taller woman’s arms at her sides. Plucked brows shooting up, Asami’s eyes grew wide like a cat-deer caught in the headlights. She blushed and smiled nervously.
Korra moved in for the jugular. Her lips closed on Asami’s throat, sucking hard on the fair olive skin and leaving an angry red hicky; a small measure of payback. With one of The Avatar’s mighty arms wrapped around Asami’s slim figure, there wasn’t anything taller woman could do against Korra’s exploratory groping.
Korra kissed here, nipped there, drawing giggles and yelps. Her free hand slipped under the camisole, caressing flawless skin, lingerie-encased breasts, and the stiffening nubs trying to break through them.
“The clasp is in the front,” Asami murmured helpfully.
Rrrrrip.
“Not anymore,” Korra responded. She flicked away the broken metal filament. Korra took Asami by the chin and savagely lunged into her lover’s mouth, tongue first.
Between gasps for air, Asami moaned “I want you I want you I want you,” like a chant.
A switch had been flipped; the foreplay was over and the two young women broke apart, quickly going about the rest of undressing. Korra needed only to kick off her boots and untie a sash for her loose, heavy pants to drop. A simple twisted loincloth was whipped off like the crack of a wet towel.
Asami disentangled herself from the leather jacket and slipped out of her ravaged underclothes. She pulled off her own shoes and hurried to undo her belt buckle, perhaps fearing The Avatar would crush that as well in haste.
Finishing first, Korra helped draw down Asami’s trousers, at once mashing her nose into the taller woman’s belly, nibbling with relish. Inch by delectable inch, Korra descended, until a patch of fine black fuzz, neatly trimmed, tickled her chin. The taller woman was practically upended, legs in the air, as her trousers and matching black panties were cast off.
Korra swept Asami up into her arms. To a titter of delight, Asami’s arms cradled The Avatar’s head and they kissed deeply. The single flower adornment had fallen out, forgotten, at some point through all this commotion. The difference between Korra’s dark bronze skin and Asami’s lighter tone was muted by the soft blue glow of the spirit flowers around them. Their naked entwined bodies glistened with sweat.
The air was not quite cool, not quite warm. Just right for two new lovers becoming one.
The hand under Asami’s knees tickled their way up the thighs, finding the moist mound where they converged. The taller woman clenched at Korra’s touch there. Her fingers pressed between folds of flesh and she heard the ecstatic whisper, “yesss.”
Asami was lowered tenderly to the bed of flowers, surrendering to the Korra’s ministrations.
Supple legs wrapped around broad shoulders, drawing Korra as close as two people could be. The touch of her fingers and lips and tongue were as gentle as The Avatar was capable of, under the circumstances. Every sensation was savored: The spongy texture of her lover’s intimate parts, the taste and feel of their dampness; but most of all, the way Asami’s hands were tugging at Korra’s hair and ears.
No more words were exchanged because no more breath could be spared on them.
Asami writhed and moaned under the ravenous onslaught, so Korra knew she was doing something right. Her tongue lapped upward and—BAM! Asami bucked hard, turning Korra’s head so suddenly that she saw stars.
The Avatar’s reflex was to pull back and regain her focus, but she was restrained by the thighs locked firmly around her head. She pried them apart with care and could now see Asami had splayed out in the spirit flowers, overwhelmed.
Korra slowly dragged herself across the other woman’s splendidly proportioned form. Beneath her breasts, she felt Asami’s rise and fall with each low, shallow inhalation. Unwilling to relent, Korra lifted the other woman up and ravished her with kisses. Asami’s lustrous black hair fell around their faces like a cocoon, blocking out everything but the fire in their eyes.
Asami gave a pleased sort of hum, perhaps rendered temporarily incapable of speech, and adjusted her position on Korra’s lap so that both women were straddling the other’s left leg.
Korra didn’t understand at first … but then Asami started moving and she caught on real quick. Her hands found Asami’s hips and held on for dear life as they ground against each other. The heat and friction rose to Korra’s head, blanking out all thought.
For her part, Asami had recovered her wits. She rested an ear over The Avatar’s heart, listening to the staccato rhythm, while her nimble fingers went to work. One hand followed a feather-light trail down the small of Korra’s back to the hot crevice of her buttocks. The other worked its way down between their sweat-slick bodies, wriggling through curly untamed wilderness, to cup a sopping wet sex.
Superior leverage allowed Asami to knead the fevered flesh with the heel of her palm. Her fingers curled around and started to slip inside Korra, one at a time. The errant digits of her other hand had found passage between muscular cheeks to tease another sensitive spot there, sending shivers up The Avatar’s spine.
Korra was drooping like a marionette with its string cut. She was only still moving at all based on raw instinct. Her hands had fallen away and were grasping feebly at flowers and soil. She was vaguely aware of a different kind of stirring deep inside. Its was tantalizingly familiar, but Korra was unable to identify it in her current fugue state.
Her awareness was roused again by what seemed to be two voices calling her name, over and over.
“… rra korra Korra—” … an wan Wan—
Asami practically hissed: “Brace yourself.” I will love you forever.
Penetrating Korra front and back, Asami then dove in to complete a three-prolonged offensive. It was too much for even The Avatar to endure. Every muscle and nerve seized. She arched like a bridge and the earth moved beneath her — literally.
Korra’s fists slammed down, splitting the flowered vale into a spider’s web of canted slabs. Turquoise petals were thrown up in a cloud. The woman’s rapturous shriek was nearly drowned out by the roar of an inferno spitting into the dark canopy above.
And then it was over.
Sense returned slowly. The darkness receded and Asami filled Korra’s vision. This woman was her light, her love, her life. Lavender mascara ran in streaks down her cheeks. The expression she wore was a contortion of worry and barely-restrained horror, but Korra couldn’t figure out why.
“Korra! Oh Spirits, Korra, are you okay?”
Coming back to herself, The Avatar smiled numbly, feeling the squeak of leather-against-leather under her head that meant Asami had rolled up her jacket to be a pillow.
“Did I … hurt you?” Korra asked. She tried to reach for her lover’s face, but was intercepted by a fierce grip and the splash of hot tears.
“Nothing—a little ice—can’t fix,” Asami replied. Her voice was hoarse, barely coming out between the mingled sobs and laughter. She indicated one hand with raw red fingers and bruised knuckles, shaking it out at the wrist.
Korra managed to rise up a little, but falling short of a kiss, instead rubbed noses with Asami. That seemed to help the taller woman calm down.
“I’m so sorry, Asami. I’ll never scare you like that again, I promise.”
“What—what in the world was that? I mean, o-okay, so now we know that you’re a screamer. But is it always going to be like that?”
Behind Asami’s head, Korra could see that the enormous leaves of the baobab trees had all but withered away, revealing both still-very-nude young women to the prying eyes of every spirit that had grown curious by that sudden storm of bending.
There was a hushed muttering of things like “Is that The Avatar?” and “Raava, I sensed Raava!”
Asami noticed this now too and gasped in surprise. Rather than freak out, she instead matter-of-factly pulled a blanket out of her nearby pack and flung it around herself, then swaddled Korra in her arms.
“They’re right,” Korra pointed out. “It was Raava. She doesn’t normally talk to me or anything, but I guess because we’re in the Spirit World, she was able to feel what I was feeling. And I felt her emotions too, like … her love for Wan. His soul has been reincarnated over and over, into me. The Avatar Cycle kept them together for ten thousand years.”
“Does that mean … I have to share you?” Asami asked. She actually sounded a bit hurt.
At a touch, Korra lifted Asami’s chin and their lips met again; not with force or desire, but a mutual need for warmth and reassurance. The two women held each other close, feeling their hearts beating in unison.
“Yes, I’m afraid so. You’ll have to share me with the whole world—no, both worlds. Being The Avatar is about love and compassion for all things. That’s what holds us together.”
Asami made a little hiccuping sound. Korra saw her dearest friend and lover’s tear-streaked visage force out a smile, under bright green eyes that had seen far too much sorrow. Even in this way, it was like watching the Sun rise.
Korra would fight with all her strength to protect everyone. And then fight with everything that was left to return to this woman whom she loved.
Fin.
((These two, just, uhg, my heart aches thinking about it. This story wasn’t originally going to be so long, but surprisingly, I stumbled upon something resembling a theme in the midst of this perverted trash.
Anyway, thanks to all, like, four of you who actually read these. I’m gonna try and write more stuff while this newfound inspiration lasts.))