boring at all.

  After a very sleepy Tildy is bundled off, still wearing

  my t-shirt, her pretty dress and shoes tucked under Mandy’s

  arm, Steph approaches me at the doorway. “I can go,” she

  says. “It’s pretty late.”

  That’s about as clear an out as I’m going to get. She

  means it. She’s not trying to pressure me. She’s not trying to

  force something to happen that I’m not ready for. God, I might

  not be ready, but I want it. I want to kiss her. I thought about it

  all Tuesday when we had our date. I wished it would have

  ended up with me going back to her place or her coming back

  to mine. I couldn’t sleep that night. I ached all week. Desire is

  a crazy thing. It can empower or cripple you, or both at the

  same time.

  “No.” I mean to say that firmly, but it comes out

  hoarse. “I don’t want you to go.” I really don’t want her to

  leave. I’m so not ready for this night to be over yet. It wasn’t

  that I didn’t love our time with Tildy, but I’d thought about

  this all week. I thought about Steph. I thought about her in

  many different ways, most of them without clothes on, in my

  bed.

  “We could watch the rest of that movie.”

  That movie was a movie for kids. It was pretty boring.

  No wonder even Tildy fell asleep. “I think I’m good.”

  “Then what—”

  I step forward and grab Steph around the waist. Even

  though she’s off balance, her hands cup my face, tilting it up.

  She’s a few inches taller than me, and she bends her head and

  finds my lips, no hesitation. Her lips are frenzied, the kiss

  desperately passionate. Maybe she’d thought about me too.

  Maybe she imagined me without clothes on. Did she touch

  herself because she couldn’t sleep at night? Was it agony to do

  anything for her as well? Sleep? Walk? Eat? Put clothes on?

  Her lips are scorching, consuming me. They’re soft

  and pliable, exhilaratingly delicious. I start fumbling with her

  shirt, trying to push it up, get it off.

  It doesn’t really work, since it keeps getting trapped

  between our arms and bodies. “Can you get this off?” I pant

  with what little breath I can draw in.

  Steph tears her shirt off and throws it to the floor. She

  does it quickly, but it still seems like it’s in slow motion. My

  eyes fall immediately to her bra. It’s plain black with a silver

  clasp in the front. Not fancy, but Steph’s creamy breasts swell

  over the cups. I can feel desire pool between my legs and my

  stomach feels like it’s trying to digest rocks. I want her so

  badly it hurts. My throat is so dry I feel like I have something

  wedged in it. My chest is on fire because I can’t seem to catch

  my breath.

  “Can you take off yours?” Her lips wobble and the

  request comes out funny. Slightly like a challenge. I always

  did like a challenge.

  I work mine off and toss it to the floor beside Steph’s. I

  didn’t anticipate that this would happen, since I thought Tildy

  was spending the night, so I have on a white sports bra. Not

  pretty, but comfortable enough.

  “Holy shit that looks complicated,” Steph rasps.

  “It’s not.” In two seconds flat, I have it off, tossed to

  the floor as well.

  Steph’s eyes get big. And dark. I can’t say this is how I

  fantasized about this moment, but it’s here and we’re semi-

  naked and it’s perfect just the way it is.

  I take Steph’s hand and lead her to the bedroom, in an

  effort to be romantic. I do feel slightly self-conscious that the

  apartment must feel small and cheap after her house, but of

  course, Steph doesn’t even notice any of the furniture, which

  is the set I had growing up with since my parents told me to

  take it with me when I moved out. It’s a nice set. One they

  spent good money on since it’s oak, but now it’s outdated. I

  have a lot of memories of my room at my parent’s house, and

  this set was part of that. I wouldn’t want to change it.

  Steph doesn’t see the two dressers, the tall one and the

  shorter one with the mirror. She doesn’t see the two matching

  nightstands. I did splurge on a brand new bed when I moved in

  here, since I couldn’t keep sleeping in a freaking captain’s bed

  my whole adult life The queen mattress is firm, since I can

  never sleep on something so soft it feels like it’s consuming

  me all night. The headboard and footboard are both done in

  curls and flowers, made out of some kind of metal and painted

  white.

  Steph eyes me and launches herself down on the bed.

  She means to sit, but the mattress is so firm that she bounces

  up and down. She’s shocked for a second, but then she throws

  her head back and laughs.

  She’s so beautiful and almost naked, and I’m half-

  naked, and I really don’t want to wait another second. I kneel

  on the bed, straddling her, wrap my arms around her neck and

  kiss her like she’s the only person in the entire world for me

  because right now, I’m pretty sure that she is.

  Her lips are right. Her hands on my body are right. Her

  strong thighs between mine, so right. Her breasts pressing into

  my chest, rising and falling with her breath when she breaks

  the kiss, perfect. The taste of her on my tongue, perfection.

  The delicious whimpers and sighs she makes against my

  mouth, utterly perfect.

  I fumble with her bra, but when I can’t get it undone, I

  have to shift away a little and look down to watch what I’m

  doing. I happen to take in the fact that Steph has abs. She’s not

  shredded or anything, but she does have a pretty defined lady

  six pack. Her arms are toned, now that my eyes flick to them,

  and I bet her legs have the same sleek muscle and definition.

  “Holy shit, you’re jacked,” I say in awe. And slight

  embarrassment, because I am not jacked. I do my regular

  living room workouts every single day, mostly for stress and

  because I often wake up with a sore neck or back. I do some

  cardio when I feel motivated, jogging mostly. I know that I

  don’t look toned like that though.

  “Yoga, Pilates, spin class. That’s pretty much it. I

  usually go right after school for a class every other day and on

  the weekend. It helps with stress.”

  “It helps with everything.”

  “Shut up,” she laughs. “You look amazing too.

  Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right.”

  “I…”

  “I happen to be looking at you right now without a

  shirt on, so I can be the judge of that, can’t I? I think you look

  beautiful. And right now, I’m barely keeping myself from

  tearing your pants off and doing all sorts of things to you.”

  I’d really like to find out what all sorts of things are, so

  I shut up and I don’t argue. Steph’s praise makes my head

  spin, but it also makes the desire I feel that much harder to

  bear.

  I finally get her bra undone and work it free, then I do

  one thing I imagined. I cup her breast in my hand and bend my

  head down to taste her dark nipple. The bud is already hard

  before I even put it in my mouth, but when I swirl my tongue

  around it, Steph vibrates below me and lets out a gasp. I suckle

  a little harder, rolling my tongue over the peak, scraping my

  teeth very gently. When I pull away, I make sure that I exhale

  and I watch in delight as Steph visibly shivers.

  “Was it something like that? What you imagined?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Were your pants off in this fantasy?”

  “They were.”

  I work at Steph’s pants with my hands while I place hot

  kisses over her breasts. Steph whimpers and curses under her

  breath. Her hands join mine. We tear her pants off frantically

  together, ripping them down her legs. I run my hand over the

  smooth, silky skin of her calf, over her knee, up her thigh. I

  stop when I get to her panties. They’re just a set of regular

  bikini cut panties, plain black, but no less sexy or erotic than if

  they were made of silk, lace, or those little edible candies.

  Jeez, that would be fun. I’ll have to get a pair of those.

  “I…God, Adley…” Steph’s fingers tangle in my hair

  when I run my fingers gently over her panties. The fabric is

  warm and soaked. I bring my finger to my mouth and I can

  feel Steph’s eyes burning on me when I taste her arousal.

  “God,” she groans again.

  There are a thousand things I’d like to do to her. I’d

  like to take hours tasting her. I’d like to learn every detail of

  her body. I want her strong legs wrapped around me. I want to

  grind against her with clothes on like we’re teenagers

  experimenting with getting ourselves off for the first time. I

  want my tongue inside her. My fingers. I want her to top me,

  take control, boss me around, fuck me until I can’t think

  straight.

  I know that I have probably zero time for any of those

  things, because I can feel my own arousal soaking my panties.

  I’m so ready. So freaking turned on that I think if Steph just

  looks at me I could actually come. So taking our time? That’s

  not going to happen. Maybe after the first or second or even

  the third time is out of the way.

  “Can I take these off too?” Steph moves beneath me,

  her hands working to undo the button on my jeans.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “God, yes.”

  Together, we rip those off too. And then Steph does

  what I imagined her doing in so many of my fantasies. She

  slowly peels away my pink panties and then, after I scoot up

  onto the bed so that I’m not hanging half off it, she straddles

  me with thighs that are indeed sleek and nicely toned. She

  takes my breast in her hand and guides my nipple into her

  mouth. Sensation explodes as her tongue swirls over the bud.

  She nips me lightly, but then suckles hard to ease the sting.

  She treats me to the exact same torture I gave her.

  “I’m sorry, I…” Steph pulls back. She’s suddenly shy.

  Suddenly blushing.

  “What’s wrong?” I brush a strand of her dark hair

  behind her ear.

  “It’s just that I might not, uh, be able to hold out long.

  You’re exquisite and this is…you’re very… I just don’t know;

  it might be really fast.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing. Who cares if it’s

  fast or if it’s slow? I’m just glad that you’re here with me right

  now. We’ll have the first few times, then I’m sure the rest of

  the night we can take it slow.”

  “The rest of the night?”

  “You’re sleeping over, aren’t you?”

  Steph’s smile is so wide that it literally just about

  spreads from ear to ear. “Yes! Yes, if you want me to. I’d be…

  that would be great.”

  “Yes,” I say as I grip her waist. She rocks against me

  with a moan. “I definitely want you to.”

  Chapter 16

  Stephanie

  I’ve felt like I’ve been on the brink since I realized we were

  going to be left alone and Adley wanted me to stay. Now that

  we’re naked, our bodies pressed together, exploring, touching,

  tasting, kissing, that feeling has gone from something that I

  could contain to something raw and primal. I don’t remember

  ever feeling like this.

  I try to distract myself by trailing kisses over more

  innocent parts. Adley’s neck. Her chest. Between her breasts.

  Over her belly. That doesn’t work. If anything, it just makes

  the desire more intense. Adley feels it too. Her hips jack up

  into mine and I can’t help but position myself so that we can

  grind together. She’s completely shaved and smooth, hot and

  wet, like liquid fire.

  I don’t know that I’ve ever been overly thankful for the

  waxing jobs that I endure every month. Right now, though, our

  smooth skin sliding together is the most perfect sensation in

  the world. There is just the right amount of friction. Adley

  squirms under me and white hot heat shoots through me. The

  more she moves, the more everything aches with desire. I

  didn’t think it was possible for my whole body to hurt because

  I want this so badly. I guess it is. Funny bones, ribs, toes,

  jawbone, all the strange places, they aren’t exempt from the

  pain of needing this.

  “God…” Adley hisses. Her hands grip my shoulders

  fiercely. She pulls me to her and kisses me wildly while we

  grind together. My hands flutter over Adley’s hips, her legs,

  her chest, her arms. I caress everything. Learning.

  Experiencing. Delighting.

  I want to put my hand between us. I want to touch

  myself. I want to touch Adley. Relieve some of the pressure

  for one of us, but I control myself. I want it like this. I want it

  to hurt. I want the fire. I want the pain. I want the pressure. I

  want the icy shiver and the molten desire. I want it to feel like

  the first time.

  It does feel like the first time. I’ve never felt this way.

  There has never been anyone like Adley. All the sensations

  I’m feeling are almost completely brand new, but at the same

  time, we fit so perfectly that it’s hard to believe that we

  haven’t been together for years.

  Adley knows exactly where to tuck herself. She knows

  how to curl her hips. Where to put her knee, her thigh. She

  knows where to touch me. How to touch me. How much

  pressure. Our hips swivel faster, increasing the tempo, driving

  the friction to nearly unbearable levels, but there’s no grinding

  of bone on bone. No one bumps into the other person. There

  aren’t any accidental injuries because we’re new and clumsy at

  being together. What we’re doing feels like it’s happening in

  perfect rhythm. We are in a perfect rhythm.

  I kiss Adley deeply to smother the whimpers and

  moans of pleasure that want to escape from my throat. We’re

  in an apartment and the walls are probably thin and I’m not so

  sure that I want everyone else in the building to know about

  our pleasure. I’d like to save that just for us.

  We both drive forward, searching, reaching for release.

  My tongue is in Adley’s mouth. Her tongue is in mine. I bite

  down on her bottom lip gently. I reach between us and roll her

  nipple between my fingers, pinching lightly. She groans, her

  body coming alive, her hips and legs writhing up to meet

  mine. Her hand leaves my shoulder and tangles in my hair. She

  tugs until my scalp starts to burn.

  I can feel the pressure building. Mounting. I can’t

  believe I’ve even lasted this long.

  I can’t help it. I fit my hand between our hips and I

  slowly circle Adley’s clit. My fingers are coated in our

  arousal, and I use it to make the tiniest, lightest movements. I

  bump up against myself a few times and jagged shards of

  shocked, wicked heat go racing through me. I keep circling.

  Keep building. Keep climbing.

  I can feel Adley tense below me. Her muscles get stuff.

  Her hips drive harder. She whimpers and bucks into my hand,

  searching, taking, aching, wanting. I roll my hips harder, circle

  her clit just a little faster, with a little bit more pressure. She

  tucks her face beside my ear and gasps out her words.

  “Please, god, Steph, yes. Please. More.”

  I keep going, circling, driving into my own hand,

  driving myself crazy as well. Adley goes wild beneath me,

  then all of a sudden, she stiffens. Her whole body vibrates and

  she lets out a tiny cry next to my ear and I realize that she’s

  coming. Almost silently.

  Silence can be a heck of a lot hotter than screams. That

  frenzied breathing? The little mewls. The tiny little whispered

  whimpers? They’re everything I wanted to hear. I stop when

  her hand pushes mine away. I know how sensitive things can

  be after, and I think that she just needs a bit of a break, but her

  hand replaces mine. She doesn’t touch herself. She touches

  me.

  She knows exactly how to touch me, like she’s done it

  a thousand times before. I’m shocked at how fast she brings

  me from frustrated and on the edge to soaring, wild heights. I

  shut my eyes and let the pressure burst over me. The climax

  isn’t anything like how I’ve ever come before. I didn’t need to

  coax and plead and beg myself into this. I didn’t have to force

  it. I didn’t have to drag it from me, kicking and screaming.

  This is powerful. This is real. I finally get why people call it

 

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