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The fifth night Ava stays at Deborah’s, they hit a bit of a slump. Dredging up old memories is exhausting, and this evening, the darker parts of Deborah’s soul are pulling at her. They’d been productive earlier, but now it’s after dinner, and she’s broody—the least funny thing to be, to Deborah’s mind, and not very fun to be around either.
After half an hour of near silence, she sits up straighter on the couch and says, “Okay, I’m calling it. We’re done for the night.”
“What?” Ava sits crisscross apple sauce in a nearby wingback chair. “Why?”
“I need a break from the past; can’t find the humor in any of it right now.” Her glass of wine sits untouched on a side table. Adding alcohol to this mood would only make it worse, and wallowing is antithetical to her constitution. Ironically, for the extent to which she’s allowed it to shape her life, few things make Deborah more uncomfortable than her own pain.
“What do you want to do instead?” Ava closes her laptop, sets it aside, and sits forward in her chair, feet planted widely on the floor, elbows on knees. “Go out? Watch a movie? Learn some TikTok dances?”
“What the fuck are TikTok dances?”
Ava ignores the question, realizing Deborah might need a break from her: “Or do you need space? Because I’m capable of giving you space. Do you want me to leave you alone?”
“No,” Deborah replies, with a low laugh. “No, I don’t want you to leave me alone. What I want is—.” She hesitates.
Ava’s face goes serious, and if Deborah didn’t know better, she’d read sex in those eyes. For a nanosecond, she considers pursuing that path before striking the idea down in its utter absurdity.
“Oh, what the hell,” Deborah says. “Do you have any more of those pot gummies?”
It’s not absurd to Deborah that she would be attracted to Ava or that she would spend time thinking about what Ava might look like with few-to-no clothes on. But that Ava would reciprocate? That is absurd. Outside the realm of possibility. And anyway, if the Instagram stalking is any indication, she’s pretty sure Ava’s still pining after that pretty actress ex of hers. Not that Deborah’s paying attention or anything.
“Why, yes,” Ava says, grinning. “Yes, I do.” She jumps to her feet to go fetch the goods and struts out of the room boasting, “I am such a good influence on you.”
Deborah chortles. It’s not untrue.
<>
An hour and a half later, they’re upstairs in Deborah’s bathroom-slash-closet-slash-dressing-room. Deborah’s hair is brushed back and away from her forehead, and she’s changed into pajamas. Sitting at her vanity, she can see Ava in the mirror, perched on an antique bench near the door.
Deborah is focused on removing her make-up and completing her skincare routine, but she knows when Ava is looking at her. Stoned, she’ll admit to herself she likes when Ava looks at her. That feeling of being… considered. Of holding someone’s interest.
Or maybe pot just gets her a little hot and bothered? Maybe that’s what they mean when they say edibles give you more of a “body high” compared to smoking weed? Her skin does feel a little tingly. But even so, she knows the drug isn’t making Ava’s gaze a total turn-on so much as it’s enhancing the effects Ava’s gaze has recently begun to have between her legs.
This is what she’s thinking about when Ava says, apropos of nothing, “You didn’t, you know.” She has her legs curled up under her, and she’s wearing her version of pajamas: sweatpants and a tank top. Her hoodie is balled up next to her on the bench. “Say you liked it,” she adds.
Deborah puts down her moisturizer and directs a confused gaze at Ava in the mirror.
“My dress.”
Deborah’s expression doesn’t change when she asks, “Am I supposed to have a clue what you’re talking about?”
“When I showed up here wearing that red dress.” Ava gets specific. “The one you saw me in the night before at the casino?”
“Uh-huh,” she intones slowly.
“You said,”—and now Ava mimics Deborah’s voice—“‘I said I liked the dress, not that you should wear it every day.’”
Deborah is a little taken aback. A little cyclone of nerves and arousal starts spinning deep in her belly.
“But you hadn’t said you liked it,” Ava points out. “You said you’d never seen me ‘not in pants’.”
There’s a lengthy silence Deborah chooses not to fill.
Eventually, with the slightest hint of a challenge that weakens Deborah’s will, Ava asks, “But you did like it, didn’t you?”
“I said I did.”
“No, but my point is you didn’t,” Ava counters. “You referenced having said it, but you never actually said it.”
“And?” Deborah tries to cover her mounting desire with exasperation.
“Well… did you?” Ava asks, her eyes piercing into Deborah’s. “Like it?”
Deborah’s cheeks turn pink. She isn’t a very good liar when she’s high. Plus she’s slightly (okay, moderately) turned on. “Yes.”
“Tell me why.” There is definitely sex in her eyes now.
“Ava.” She doesn’t know if she’s warning her or chastising her, but Deborah feels obligated to at least feign an attempt at stopping this conversation from proceeding.
“Don’t say my name like that.”
They hold eye contact in the mirror.
Deborah breaks it first, looking down as she says, “The dress was nothing special.”
“Oh.” Ava’s eyes shift away, and her blush deepens.
Deborah turns in her chair to face Ava, whose eyes are on the floor.
Her sober brain—the one that has recently begun giving her nightly talks about how she is absolutely not attracted to her twenty-five year-old writing assistant—would leave it at that. Her stoned brain—the one that’s incapable of fooling itself and has very little impulse control—is having fun. This feels good.
Deborah clarifies, “I only liked it because you were in it.”
Ava’s eyes shoot back to Deborah’s, but, confidence still thrown, she doesn’t move.
“Seeing your legs. The curve of your waist and hips,” Deborah adds, her voice low. “That’s what I liked.”
Ava swallows. She’s the one who brought it up, and now she feels like prey.
“Does that surprise you?” Deborah asks, Ava’s nervous reaction emboldening her.
“Yeah,” Ava barely chokes out. “Yeah, it does.”
“I like looking at you.” Deborah’s body leans forward, and her tongue draws a slow line across her lower lip, drawing Ava’s eyes to her mouth.
Ava says, as if in a trance, “I like it, too.”
Deborah stands, walks to Ava, and offers her hands. Ava takes them and rises to her feet.
“I want to see more of you.” Deborah’s tone is a little gravelly, and she uses the knuckle of an index finger to trace along Ava’s clavicle.
“Deborah.” Ava tries a scandalized tone, enunciating each syllable just so, but she’s aroused that little bit too much for it to work. Her cheeks are flushed, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Does weed make you horny?” Deborah asks, still using that sexy rasp, staring at Ava’s mouth. “Because I think weed makes me horny.”
“You make me horny,” Ava answers immediately and pulls Deborah into an assertive kiss. She breaks from Deborah’s lips only to say, “Like fourteen-year-old-boy horny,” before kissing her again.
Deborah laughs into Ava’s kiss, and she brings a hand to her face. Snaking an arm around her waist, she pulls Ava in close.
Ava parts her lips, flicks her tongue into Deborah’s mouth, and kisses her with hunger, eliciting a moan. Her fingers come to play at the front of Deborah’s pajama top. When Ava undoes the top button, Deborah breaks from their kiss.
Having regained her confidence, Ava is undeterred. It appears this is really happening. Ava drags her tongue down Deborah’s neck and sprinkle kisses across her upper chest. “God you smell good,” she rumbles into Deborah’s ear.
Deborah gasps when Ava nips at her neck, and her hands rise to grip Ava’s shoulders and caress her bare arms. She drops her hands to the side of Ava’s tank top and gathers the fabric with her fingers, lifting it.
Ava wrests her mouth from the base of Deborah’s neck and allows her to pull the garment off over her head. She wears a little blue bralette. Deborah steps away to get a fuller view. Her gaze washes over Ava’s chest before settling where her sweatpants sit low on her hips.
With a smirk, Deborah says, “I hate that I find you so fucking sexy like this.”
Ava smiles, smug, and reaches back to unhook her bra. She lets it loosen and fall off.
Deborah studies Ava’s breasts with her eyes while unbuttoning the rest of her shirt, shrugging it off, and letting it fall to the floor.
Closing the distance between them, Ava slides her hands around Deborah’s bare waist and pulls her into a heated embrace. She slips a hand between their bodies to hold one of Deborah’s breasts and brush her palm over her nipple.
Deborah sighs into Ava’s mouth, the smooth warmth of her skin making Deborah’s own feel alive and brand new. This isn’t what she had in mind for tonight, but it is absolutely what she needs. To feel good. To feel good with Ava.
Ava walks Deborah toward the vanity, pushing the chair aside with her foot and backing Deborah up against the counter. She sits her on the edge and slips her hands under Deborah’s pajama pants to hold her by the hips.
“Can I eat you out?” Ava asks, her eyes dark, her voice eager in an incredibly seductive way. “Right here?” She kisses Deborah’s neck.
“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, her head tilted back to give Ava all the territory she wants. “Yes.”
Then her pants come off, and she is completely naked beneath Ava’s gaze. Deborah writhes a little in want, pressing her thighs together and gripping the edge of the counter.
Ava pushes off her sweatpants, eyes traveling up and down and all over Deborah’s body. She kisses Deborah, slow and lusty, using a knee to nudge her legs apart. She moves in, bringing her body closer, cupping Deborah’s ass and pulling her forward, pressing Deborah’s heat against her stomach. She spends time at Deborah’s ear, kissing and whispering, telling her how beautiful she is, confessing she’s been thinking about this a lot lately. She runs her lips and tongue along Deborah’s neck. She glides her hands over all of the bare skin within her reach, caressing here and grabbing there. Then Ava’s attention turns to Deborah’s breasts. She stays there, fingers and lips and tongue and teeth, until she can tell Deborah is becoming impatient.
On her knees, Ava positions herself at Deborah’s center. Deborah watches as Ava looks at her pussy and licks her lips. When she tilts her head up to meet Deborah’s eyes, Deborah is already nodding ‘yes’ and straining toward her mouth. Desire and greed flash over Ava’s face, and she buries her tongue in Deborah’s cunt. Ava groans, and Deborah releases breathy moan after breathy moan.
“Oh, fuck,” Deborah gasps, one of her hands clutching the edge of the counter and the other clutching Ava’s hair. Her head falls back. She grinds against Ava’s face and rides her flattened tongue. Ava slips her middle finger inside, and Deborah hisses, bearing down and swiveling her hips a little.
Moving her finger in smooth, steady curling motions, Ava sets a rhythm with her tongue on Deborah’s clit.
Nothing but Deborah’s pleasure exists in this moment. An attentive, eager lover is a true magician, capable of making everything else disappear. A small smile graces Deborah’s face before she sighs heavily and comes, shuddering her orgasm against Ava’s face. Her body curls forward and the word “yes” spills from her mouth over and over and over.
Stilling the finger inside Deborah, Ava rises to kiss her as she trembles and rides out her waves of pleasure.
Deborah returns Ava’s kiss with gratitude, moaning, and her arms come up to link around Ava’s neck. Ava adds another finger and starts fucking her again. One of Deborah’s legs rises to wrap around Ava's waist, pulling her in tight and firm. Deborah’s hips start meeting Ava’s thrusts with equal force, making Ava growl and latch onto Deborah’s neck with her teeth.
This time when Deborah comes, she’s panting, and she cries out in ecstasy. Afterward, Deborah clings to Ava, breathing heavily, and presses her lips against Ava’s neck. When Deborah lifts her head and meets Ava’s half-awed-half-proud eyes, she can’t help but smile.
“Good?” Ava asks gently.
Deborah lets out a small laugh and brings a hand to her cheek. She whispers, “So good.”
They stand there kissing, bodies intertwined, for a few minutes. When they untangle, they make their way into the bedroom. Deborah flops onto the bed, sated and happy.
Ava grins, slips on Deborah’s silk robe, and says, “Be right back.”
When Ava returns, she has water, champagne (no glasses), and a grocery sack full of snacks. All of which she nearly drops to the floor when she spies Deborah sitting on the chaise at the foot of the bed, strapped and stroking her sizable dick.
“Holy fucking shit,” she exhales at the sheer and shocking hotness, looking like she might pass out.
Deborah flashes a wicked smile and tilts her head in invitation.
Ava sets everything on a nearby surface and, walking toward Deborah, says, “Well, well, well. Now who’s dressed like Rachel Maddow’s mechanic?”
Laughing, Deborah reaches out to untie the sash of Ava’s robe. Ava lets the robe fall off her shoulders and pushes her underwear over her hips and off.
“You said sometimes you need dick to come,” she explains. “Wanted to make sure you saw the full menu.” Deborah takes Ava’s hand to steady her while she straddles her lap. They kiss, then Deborah places her hands on Ava’s thighs and tells her, “It’s okay if you want something else.”
“Oh, no,” Ava responds quickly. She grabs the lube next to Deborah and squirts some into her hand. “This is what I want,” she says, stroking Deborah's dick to lube it up and wiping the excess between her legs. Ava rises to position herself over the dildo.
Deborah coos, “Show me,” and brings a hand to cup one of Ava’s breasts. The other slips around to her ass. Ava slowly lowers herself onto her cock, making little gasping sounds that turn into a deep moan. “Yes,” Deborah hisses, her eyes shaded with lusty intention. Ava rocks and swivels her hips, whimpering when Deborah’s mouth captures a nipple and starts teasing and sucking.
Before long, Ava is riding Deborah in earnest, tits bouncing, panting, gasping, “Yeah, ohmigod, fuck yeah.”
“Touch yourself,” Deborah instructs. Ava obliges, bringing two fingers to her cunt and sliding her clit between them lengthwise. “Mmhmm, good girl.” She whispers praise and encouragement, and she twists Ava’s nipples between her thumb and forefinger. Deborah’s eyes dart from Ava’s pussy to her face to her hips to her breasts to her belly and all over, consuming as much of her as possible.
When Ava grinds down hard, Deborah knows she’s close.
Ava’s mouth crashes into Deborah’s, and she grasps at the duvet, at Deborah’s shoulder, at anything, desperately. Just before her orgasm hits, she whispers, “I’m coming,” with her mouth an inch from Deborah’s and her fingers rubbing frantically at her clit. Her body jerks and soars, and Deborah can feel her pussy milking the dildo.
“Fuck,” Deborah groans, squeezing her own thighs together and accepting the weight of Ava’s boneless body draped over her own. “You are so beautiful.” She runs her hands up and down Ava’s back. “That was so beautiful, Ava.”
Had she actually forgotten how good it can be with women? Truth is, she tried to make herself forget by sticking only to men for the past, oh, decade or so. Because men are easier. Because she doesn’t fall in love with them.
If not for the effects of the still-metabolizing THC, she would not be able to remain so relaxed after that little revelation. Her revised opinion on “grass” is going into the new show, she decides.
“Ohmigod, mmmm,” Ava groans in pleasure, her face nuzzled into Deborah’s neck. She presses her lips to Deborah’s shoulder before lifting her head and pressing them to her mouth. They share a few lazy slow kisses, both eliciting soft happy hums.
Ava breaks their kiss and pulls back a little to look at Deborah. Before she can speak, Deborah asks, a specific kind of excitement lacing her voice, “Will you sit on my face?”
Ava’s mouth falls open. She’s all hot and flushed from coming so recently. Deborah raises an eyebrow. Her fingers use soft pressure to guide Ava off of her dick, coaxing, “Come here, Baby.”
Allowing herself to be guided, Ava places her knees against the mattress on either side of Deborah’s head, her ass in Deborah’s hands. They make eye contact as Ava settles down onto her face and starts riding her tongue. Deborah’s blue eyes watch Ava intently as she starts to get into it. They stop watching sometime around when she pulls Ava to her face and just fucking feasts on her pussy.
After she comes on Deborah’s face, Ava collapses onto the bed, lying on her stomach, moaning. Deborah stands and saunters to the side of the bed, wiping her face with the back of her arm and licking her lips. She tilts her head back and forth a few times, empowered by the sight of Ava, nude and completely wrecked on her bed.
Deborah climbs onto the bed and kneels between Ava’s legs. She spits into her hand and rubs the saliva over the head of her dick. She wraps her other arm under Ava’s hips and lifts.
“Oh fuck, D, really?” Ava groans.
“Don’t you like it?” she purrs, entering Ava from behind.
“Ohmigod I fucking love it.” She’s already making these little needy humming noises.
“So stop complaining, and let me fuck you.” Deborah punctuates her point with a spank.
Ava gasps and pushes her ass back into Deborah’s hips. “Okay.”
Deborah chuckles, feeling cocky. She grips Ava’s hips and starts thrusting, nice and slow, giving her long luxurious strokes and listening to her get more and more desperate. Her own cunt is dripping by this point. (She had forgotten this part: the way fucking a woman gets her all riled up and leaves her pussy swimming in its own arousal. It is truly like nothing else.)
“You take my dick so good, Honey,” Deborah remarks, picking up her pace. “I could come just from fucking you like this. That’s how good it feels to fuck you, Ava. That’s how goddamn beautiful and sexy you are.” She reaches around to caress Ava’s clit, all slick and engorged.
“Oh, yeah,” Ava pants, grinding back against Deborah’s cock. “Fuck. Don’t stop. Ohmigod please don’t stop never stop fuck that’s so good I’m coming I’m coming I’m coming.” And she climaxes, crying out to gods in whom she doesn’t believe.
Deborah murmurs approval and encouragement, and she strokes Ava’s clit until Ava’s hand stops her. She pulls out slowly, and Ava flops over onto her back, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead. When she opens her eyes, Ava looks up at Deborah to find her looking down at her with satisfaction and awe.
“God, you’re amazing,” Deborah whispers.
Ava's eyes narrow and bore into Deborah’s. She sits up and begins to unbuckle Deborah's leather harness, having Deborah lie down while she finished removing the gear and drops it onto the floor next to the bed.
Wordless, Ava lies beside Deborah, leans in, and kisses her with gratitude and admiration and desire, leaving her breathless. She slips her hand between Deborah’s legs and groans into her mouth at how drenched she is. Ava effortlessly slides two fingers inside.
“Ohmigod,” Deborah gasps, breaking from Ava’s mouth, her cunt pulsating.
“I think you need another,” Ava drawls and adds a third finger.
Deborah pulls her into another kiss, this one full of appreciation.
Blissed out, Ava whispers sweet nothings as she fucks Deborah, and she’s not even embarrassed. She tells Deborah she’s exquisite, and that her pleasure is the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. She tells Deborah she deserves to feel this good, that she should take as much of it as she wants.
It doesn’t take very long for Deborah to come. Just a couple swipes against her clit, and she’s levitating, floating in pleasure so intense yet so soft it feels almost like she never has to come down if she doesn’t want to. Just before she shudders and crashes, Deborah thinks this orgasm—this one she’s currently having—definitely ranks in her top five. (Not that she could identify the other four. She just knows it’s up there because of how effortless and unadulterated and meandering this pleasure is.)
When she does start to come down, Deborah cups Ava’s face with one hand and kisses her, breathing heavily. “Thank you,” she whispers, pulling away to meet Ava’s eyes. “That was so fucking good,” she adds, breaking into an unabashed grin and letting out an almost incredulous laugh.
Ava grins, too. “I assure you, the pleasure was all mine.”
She rolls onto her back then looks at Deborah and extends her arm, gesturing with her head for Deborah to come curl up against her. Still smiling, Deborah moves to lie in Ava’s embrace, where she revels in still being able to feel this fucking good.
They lie there for a little while, silently, their hands and mouths occasionally exploring the other’s shape or taste or texture. Eventually Deborah picks up her head and looks at Ava. “Weed definitely makes me horny.”
They laugh lightly. Ava says, “So annoyed I had to be here for that discovery.”
Deborah props herself up on an elbow. “Know what it doesn’t do?”
“Hmm?”
“Create something out of nothing.” Deborah lifts her fingertips to Ava’s face and studies her features.
“Tryin’ to tell me you like me, Vance?”
Deborah shrugs, a little bashful. “Something like that.”
Ava looks at her for a long moment and shakes her head slightly.
“What?” Deborah asks.
“It’s just… you do some of your best work—like seriously genius-level work—convincing me otherwise."
“Hashtag sorry not sorry?”
“Yeah, that’s an appropriate usage,” Ava answers before going on. “But like, I half-expected to be sent to my room immediately upon your orgasm.”
Deborah chuckles, a low rumble.
“You have one pretty major tell, though, D.”
“Hey,” Deborah snaps. “Just because I let you get away with that—.”
But Ava just talks over her: “And it’s your compulsive need to comment on these babies.” She holds up her hands with a smug little smile.
“Well, look at them!" Deborah exclaims. "The proportions alone are noteworthy.”
Ava rolls her eyes. “You love them.”
“Did I ever say I didn’t?”
Ava blushes. Deborah kisses her sweetly.
After a bit more pillow talk, they put on robes and retrieve the snacks and beverages left forgotten by the door. They nestle into the couch in Deborah’s bedroom and spend the next hour or so watching a Law & Order rerun, noshing and passing the champagne bottle back and forth between them.
Deborah doesn’t send Ava to her room until barking dogs signal Josephina’s arrival.