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“Get up.” Therese releases a strangled noise, tightening her grip on Carol’s shoulders, “But—”
Carol’s fingers find Therese’s chin and lift her head, forcing eye contact, “Get. Up.”
It had started innocently. They had been sharing a quiet evening together—a romantic stroll through the city streets, a homemade meal, and maybe a movie and drink before bed. “Go pick out a movie, I’ll bring the drinks,” Carol had said, the domesticity of the moment hitting her as she poured the liquor, settling in her like a calm she hadn’t felt in so long. But something about the sweet way Therese had smiled up at her as she reached out for her glass had ignited something hot in Carol’s veins. A fire that nestled in right alongside the serenity. Suddenly she hadn’t needed the whiskey to flame her insides because Therese was brushing her fingertips across her knuckles and torching her all on her own. But the touch wasn’t so innocent, was it? There was a suggestion in the wide, doe eyes holding her gaze over the tumblers of amber liquid that was less chaste than she was letting on. A challenge of sorts.
Carol quirked an eyebrow at her, received only another sweet smile and a more insistent press of her fingertips. Therese took another sip, beads of moisture from her drink clinging to her lips before she darted a pink tongue out to catch them. She was teasing her. Little minx that she was. And Carol wanted to grab the wrist she felt hovering just above her thumb, wanted to grab it and pin Therese underneath her, press her into the couch and devour her, bite that full bottom lip, taste the whiskey on her tongue, taste other things, too. Therese’s hand slid down to Carol’s thigh, fingers tapping and pressing a pattern high up on her thigh. Carol gulped down the rest of her drink to quell her urge to grab Therese and take her right then and there before setting her glass down on the side table. A single finger lifted Therese’s glass to her lips, “Drink up, darling.” Therese drained her glass, placing it next to Carol’s, and in a flash Carol’s hands were on her. On her neck, on her jaw, in her hair, pulling her in for a kiss. Fervent. Deep. Consuming. Her tongue in her mouth, her teeth on her lips, pulling, sucking, biting—Therese knew she started this, this game, had wanted to play with and tease Carol some more, but she’s overcome—the feeling of Carol raining over her. Over her body, her mind, her soul. A torrential downpour.
All at once, she had grabbed for Carol, gripping her face in her hands, pushing her body flush against hers, before swinging a leg over Carol’s lap and settling in, needing to get closer, closer, closer. It was her hands on Carol’s warm neck that had finally ripped Carol out of the passionate haze they had fallen into, the cool of her fingers a stark contrast to the singeing heat bubbling underneath the skin of her throat. But Therese was grinding her hips down against hers, and all she could do was grip them and pull her down harder. They went on like this for long minutes—rutting against each other like teenagers, making out as if each kiss was a sip of water in a years-long drought.
A hand had slipped into her hair, drawing it away from her face, and tipping her head back to expose her neck for Carol to attack. To bite the soft column of her throat, trail her mouth up to suck hungrily against the underside of her jaw, tightening the fist in her hair as she did so. Therese let out a sharp gasp, her hips jerking forward and fingers curling to find purchase in Carol’s shirt. Immediately came another experimental tug. And—another moan, another roll of the hips.
“Is this what you wanted? Hmm? Wanted to grind helplessly on my lap while I pull your hair and leave marks on your neck everyone will see tomorrow?” Carol’s voice traveled down her spine, spreading tendrils of desire through her, propelling her pelvis forward and down once again.
And now: Therese whimpers before shakily scrambling out of Carol’s lap, legs close to giving out as she stands before her, feeling exposed under the weight of Carol’s gaze even though she’s still fully clothed.
“Take your clothes off for me, darling,” Carol’s command comes in a lowered voice, deep and drenched in desire. The graveled honey of it does something to Therese. She swallows, trying to temper her burgeoning arousal, but her hands haven’t seemed to have gotten the memo, feverishly moving to the buttons of her shirt. Fumbling with the buttons of her shirt because the way Carol is looking at her—so intensely like a predator pinning its prey in place before the inevitable attack—has her mind going blank, deliciously blank because she wants nothing more than for Carol to take her, take whatever she wants, do whatever she wants to her. The only problem is she can’t bridge the disconnect between her clumsy fingers and her desire to comply.
“Slowly… Therese.”
Therese chances a glance at Carol, and oh that is a mistake because Carol is still sitting like a queen on her throne looking powerful and dangerously seductive as she too unbuttons her own shirt. Therese’s mouth goes dry as inch after inch of Carol’s perfect skin is revealed. Skin that she has seen before, touched, kissed, worshipped, but can never get enough of. The crimson lace of her bra magnificent against her pale skin.
Carol gives her a pointed look, “Clothes. Off. Now Therese.”
Carol tilts her head to the side, her hair falling away from her head, a waterfall of golden tresses and Therese watches it sway, a beautiful detail to focus on and ground herself in as she attempts to reel in her growing desire. She’s finally able to shrug her shirt off her shoulders and step out of her pants. Her subsequent hesitation has Carol raising an eyebrow and flicking her eyes down to Therese’s bra-clad chest, then lower to her panties—which now have a considerable wet spot on them. Their eyes meet and Therese hurriedly unhooks her bra before pushing her underwear down and off her legs to be forgotten in the growing pile of clothes at their feet. The cool air of the apartment hits her already hard nipples making them ache, hits her in another place too where she is hot—hot and wet and dripping. After what seems like an eternity of Carol raking her eyes up and down Therese’s body, drinking in her loveliness as she becomes increasingly restless and squirming, Carol smirks, “Come here, sweetheart.” Therese steps forward.
Carol’s pants have also been abandoned, and Therese finds herself getting lost in the smooth and inviting thighs in front of her, in the red lace hugging Carol’s hips, in the sensation of Carol’s hands which are now smoothing up the backs of her own thighs. Before she knows what’s happening, she’s sucking in a short gasp of air as she’s swiftly pulled forward into Carol’s lap, falling as fast and hard into her body as she had hurtled into love with her. Carol’s hands land on her hips, gripping and guiding her towards her right thigh, and oh the contact feels so good, the friction so delicious against her hard, throbbing clit. She pitches forward, hands landing on Carol’s shoulders, leaning in for a kiss, but Carol’s hand is in her hair again, pulling her back to look into her eyes as she slowly unravels before her.
“Look at you,” another tug to her hair. “Making a mess on my thigh,” Carol says, mouth around a rosy nipple. Therese whimpers, is slightly embarrassed because she is making a mess with how wet she is. But it feels so good, she feels so good, Carol feels so good and her body is singing, sparks shooting from her clit through her pelvis, climbing up her spine and down her legs but—she groans in frustration. It’s not enough—she needs more, needs Carol’s fingers on her or in her or her mouth or anything—just more. “Carol… Carol, I need—touch me,” she chokes out. Carol nips at her nipple, sweeps her cheek against her sternum, teeth catching against her collarbone, “No.” Therese’s face falls forward, her forehead pressing against Carol’s shoulder as she sobs, “Please.”
“You’ll come like that or you won’t come at all,” Carol punctuates the statement with a gentle stroke of her thumbs against the sensitive skin between Therese’s thighs and hips. The softness of her touch juxtaposes the hard edge of her voice, a heady combination that has Therese readily nodding her assent even as she lets out a whine and grinds. Keeps grinding and rocking her hips and moving even as her own legs start to burn, a litany of desperate sounds coloring the air around them.
Carol flexes her thigh and it’s all over.
Her body seizes up, her stomach clenching, legs trembling and she knows she’ll be sore tomorrow, but all she feels right now is overwhelming pleasure, stronger than she had expected from just the muted friction of Carol’s thigh. She moans, the sound half caught in her throat as her head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and Carol is in awe of the strength of her release wracking her small frame. It’s coursing through her like a tornado, carrying her away into a vortex of sensation. She’s drenching Carol’s thigh, her arousal evidence of the eye of the storm having landed on Carol’s legs. And Carol is there—her arms holding her steady, her hands stroking her legs, her back, her arms like a soothing salve in the wake of the carnal pleasure ravaging through her. Eventually, Therese’s body recovers enough for her to peek her head out of the home it had made against Carol’s shoulder. Carol kisses her gently, smiles at her devastatingly and Therese feels a surge of emotion brewing in her chest.
“I love you.” Carol’s stomach flutters, the declaration causing as strong a reaction in her as any touch. “I love you, my angel.” Therese, perceptive as she is to every minute shift in Carol’s demeanor, notices the tightening of her hands against her back and in her hair, feels the quick jump of muscles beneath her fingers which are now smoothing over Carol’s stomach, sees the subtle quickening of Carol’s breath. And, even though the legs she is sat on pressing almost imperceptibly closer indicate her need, Therese knows Carol will continue to hold her, will ask nothing in return as she comforts her all through the night if that’s what Therese wants.
But that isn’t what Therese wants. Not yet. Not before she sees her satiation mirrored in Carol’s blue eyes. So she pulls back, kisses Carol once softly before sliding to her knees in front of her. Carol wants to pull her back up, gather her in her arms and let the unassuming and safe press of their bodies lull them to sleep, but she can’t deny the electricity firing through every nerve in her body. Especially not when Therese is sat so demurely in front of her, especially not when her hands are cupping her knees and spreading them, and especially not when her tongue is emerging from her mouth to lick at the wetness she’s left all over her thigh. She groans, head falling back against the cushions as Therese thoroughly cleans her thigh.
When she reaches the apex of her thighs, Carol is already soaked and Therese can smell her through the red mesh and lace of her ruined panties. She places a kiss right above her clit, presses her tongue against it, luxuriating in her taste seeping through the thin fabric and in the trembling thighs bracketing her head. Hooking two fingers under the material, Therese pulls it to the side, the backs of her fingers brushing against Carol’s clit as she sighs and bucks her hips up. Not wanting to tease, Therese uses her free hand to spread Carol and licks—her velvety soft tongue sweeping up to flick, her lips wrapping around Carol, sucking hard. She brings her wet fingers to Carol’s entrance, easily slipping two inside her. A few strokes, a long press, and Carol is coming, moaning and gripping the couch cushions with her hands and Therese’s head with her thighs and Therese thinks she doesn’t ever want to be anywhere but between Carol’s shaking legs, looking up at her arching back and basking in her luminance. With a final shudder, Carol shifts away, sifting her fingers through Therese’s hair as she rests her cheek against her leg and smiles up at her.
“I guess we’re not watching a movie.” Therese giggles, the sound washing over her maybe more euphoric than the orgasm she hasn’t fully recovered from and there is that serenity again, permeating every cell in her body, every molecule of space around them, spreading and settling in to stay, forever.