Porn Battle
Title: Laugh
Fandom: Sex and the City
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlotte/Samantha
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today
“Hey there.”
Charlotte jumped as Samantha came up behind her at Carrie’s door.
“Hey,” she turned, smiling. “You scared me.”
Samantha chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss onto Charlotte’s lips. Charlotte leant back.
“Samantha,” she chastised, smiling. “Anyone could see.”
“So,” Samantha said. “I still don’t see why we can’t just tell Carrie and Miranda we’re fucking.”
Charlotte fixed her with a frown. “We’re not just fucking, Samantha,” she said earnestly. “We’re in a relationship.”
“Sure,” Samantha rolled her eyes. “But you wouldn’t care if they knew that. You just don’t want them to know we fuck.”
“That’s not true,” Charlotte protested. She knocked again, impatiently, on Carrie’s door. Samantha leaned down, her lips dangerously close to Charlotte’s.
“So prove it,” she whispered.
The door opened suddenly and Charlotte jumped away.
“Carrie, hi,” she said quickly. “Samantha was just -,”
“Come in,” Carrie said, already walking away. “Miranda’s here.” She turned back to grin at them. “And she brought gay porn.”
“Oh good,” Samantha said, surreptitiously grabbing Charlotte’s ass as they followed Carrie inside. “I was just telling Charlotte I needed something to get my mind off… other things.”
She saw Charlotte swallow.
In the end, they didn’t watch the porn, because Carrie wanted to whine about Big, and the others wanted to pretend that they cared. They ended up sitting on Carrie’s bed, a bowl of popcorn between them serving as an afternoon snack, and talking about men.
“I mean, he’s going to London,” Carrie said emphatically, appealing to each of them in turn. “For six months. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll tell you what it means,” Samantha said, taking some popcorn. “It means no sex for six months. If I were you, I’d put myself back on the market.” She brushed Charlotte’s hand lightly. Charlotte shivered.
“Oh, Sweetie, are you cold?” Carrie said immediately. “Here -,” She grabbed a blanket from her closet and handed it over.
“Uh - thanks,” Charlotte said, seemingly at a loss. She spread it halfheartedly over her legs.
“Oh don’t be silly,” Samantha smirked. “That’ll never help. Here.”
She unfolded the blanket all the way and then moved closer to Charlotte, spreading the blanket over the two of them so that it covered most of their bodies. “Learn to share, won’t you?” She leaned close against the other woman.
“Well, look at you, all cozy,” Miranda said through a fistful of popcorn. She sighed. “If only I could get Steve to get that close to me.”
“He won’t get close to you?” Carrie repeated. Miranda shook her head.
“It’s like he doesn’t even notice me anymore.” She grabbed another handful of popcorn.
“Well, maybe if you took him out somewhere nice,” Charlotte suggested. “You know, do something romantic to show -”
She broke off, gasping.
“Are you alright?” Carrie asked.
“Yeah,” Charlotte said, a little shakily. Samantha smirked, and wriggled her fingers further into the front of Charlotte’s pants under the cover of the blanket. “Just a -” Charlotte coughed. “ - tickle in my throat. Never mind.”
“So I thought,” Miranda continued, “that I could do something nice. You know, a strip tease or something when he came home. But then he said he’d be working late for the next few nights and I should probably do something to amuse myself.” She sighed.
“Oh, you should definitely do something to amuse yourself,” Samantha grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She took the opportunity to work her fingers into Charlotte’s underwear at the same time.
Charlotte pulled her legs together abruptly, widening her eyes a touch at Samantha. Samantha smirked, pointedly keeping her eyes on Miranda.
“After all,” Samantha went on. “He’s probably doing the same thing.”
“What? He is not,” Miranda protested. “Steve can barely handle sex once a week. I can’t see him doing it with anyone else. And besides, where would he do it? At work?”
“Well, why not?” Samantha asked. “I’ve had sex at work more times that I can count. A person can have sex…” She moved her fingers lower, finding Charlotte’s clit. “… anywhere.” Charlotte’s whole body tensed, and Samantha let her fingers still for a moment.
“Trust me,” Miranda said. “He is not having sex with anyone else. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Maybe he’s just busy,” Carrie said. “Big does the same thing. That’s why I cut my hair. And then he didn’t even notice.”
“I could grow my hair long, dress in a naughty school girl outfit and Steve still wouldn’t notice,” Miranda said.
“Oh, the naughty school girl is such a turn-off.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. Samantha fluttered her fingers, parting Charlotte’s folds. “Agreed,” she almost purred. “But the naughty nurse is so much hotter.” She started to stroke firmly up and down. “Don’t you think, Charlotte?”
“Uh,” Charlotte sat up suddenly, her head tipping a little backwards as she looked at Samantha. Her hand landed on Samantha’s arm, but she didn’t grip hard enough to stop her. Samantha’s hand kept on moving. “Yeah. It’s hot.”
“But that doesn't help Miranda,” Samantha said, stroking more firmly. “What do you think she should do, Charlotte?”
“Well…” Charlotte shifted restlessly.
“Are you ok?” Miranda asked again. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said, too brightly. “Maybe Steve’s just being a guy. They miss things.”
“It’s true,” Carrie nodded. “It’s just men. The other night Big was inside me, and he suddenly said, ‘are you wearing contacts? Did you always have blue eyes?’”
Miranda laughed. “I guess.” She shook her head. “Why do we date men?”
“I have no idea,” Samantha said. She felt Charlotte’s hips beginning to move underneath her hand, and she sped up. Charlotte’s grip on her arm tightened, and she let out a moan, her eyes closing a little.
“Charlotte?” Carrie asked. “Really, you don’t look so good.”
“You certainly don’t,” Samantha agreed, slowing her pace down to almost nothing.
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said again, quickly. She looked at Samantha almost pleadingly, her hips rising, seeking more friction with Samantha’s hand. Samantha suppressed her smirk, stilling her hand completely.
“I think I need to go the bathroom,” Charlotte said, getting up quickly. She shot Samantha a pointed look.
“I’ll come with you,” Samantha said, unconcernedly. “Make sure you don’t get lost on the way.”
Once they were inside the bathroom, Samantha pushed Charlotte up against the closed door.
“Samantha,” Charlotte gasped. “What were you doing? Carrie and Miranda were right there!”
“Oh relax,” Samantha said. She bent forward to kiss Charlotte heatedly, one hand sliding underneath her shirt to cup a breast. Charlotte moaned softly.
“Samantha… please…”
“Oh don’t worry,” Samantha said. “I always finish what I started.”
She started to push Charlotte’s jeans down, sliding to her knees, but Charlotte pulled her back up.
“No time,” she panted. “They’re waiting for us.”
“But Charlotte,” Samantha said, her voice low in her throat. “I’m starving. I want to eat.”
Charlotte’s hips moved at her words, and she mewled a little.
“Later,” she said. “I promise.” She grabbed Samantha’s hand and pulled it down toward her clit.
“Later?” Samantha asked, deliberately keeping her fingers still.
“As soon as we get home,” Charlotte promised. “Please, Samantha.”
Samantha smiled, and then pressed two fingers into Charlotte. Charlotte tensed and leaned back against the door, her hips moving in time with Samantha’s hand.
“Samantha…” she moaned. Samantha grinned and curled her fingers, wiggling them, and Charlotte opened her eyes as she came.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Samantha whispered in her ear as they went back to the bedroom.
“Everything ok?” Carrie asked, as they reentered.
“Charlotte was feeling a little sick,” Samantha said smoothly, settling back onto the bed away from Charlotte. “It’s all fine now.”
Carrie glancing at the darkening sky outside her window. “It’s getting late. What are you guys doing tonight? You want to get take-out and stay here?”
“Can’t,” Miranda said. “My boss is about to fire me if I don’t get this report done by tomorrow. And I’m hoping Steve will come home so I can surprise him.”
“Ok.” Carrie nodded. “Charlotte? Samantha? You guys want to stay for dinner?”
Samantha grinned and shook her head.
“No need,” she said. “We’ll be eating out.”
Charlotte squeaked.
Title: Wrong
Fandom: The OC
Pairing: Marissa/Kaitlin
Rating: NC-17 for incest
Summary: “We can’t do this.”
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today.
“We can’t do this,” Marissa said, standing up abruptly and moving to the other side of the room. “We can’t.”
Kaitlin got off the bed slowly, and walked over to her sister, watching the way Marissa’s eyes locked on the swing of her hips.
“Why not?” she asked, her voice deliberately low, her hands coming to rest on Marissa’s hips.
“It’s wrong.” Marissa looked away. “You’re my sister.”
“So?” Kaitlin let one hand slide up Marissa’s side, covering a bra covered breast. Marissa’s eyes slipped half closed, and she didn’t reply.
“We,” Kaitlin whispered, her hand finding its way underneath Marissa’s bra, “can do whatever,” she pinched Marissa’s nipple and was satisfied to hear her moan, “we want.”
With Marissa’s eyes shut completely now, Kaitlin allowed herself to smirk. She leaned forward, and a little upward, pressing her lips to her sister’s, and Marissa began to kiss back, one of her hands making its way up to cup Kaitlin’s breast. Marissa’s tongue swirled out into Kaitlin’s mouth, and Kaitlin began to pull her back toward the bed, never breaking away from the kiss.
She sank down, Marissa on top of her, her fingers working to unzip Marissa’s jeans. Marissa’s mouth moved away from her own, caressing her jaw, and then biting down on her pulse point. Kaitlin moaned.
And then the weight on top of her was gone, and Kaitlin opened her eyes to find Marissa walking away, pulling her top back on as she went.“Marissa,” Kaitlin said, sitting up. Marissa turned back for a moment, looking at her.
“You’re my sister, Kaitlin,” she said softly, already backing out of the doorway. “We can’t do this.”
Title: Role-play
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: Veronica/Meg
Summary: “Are you accusing me Veronica Mars?”
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today
“You take that side of the room,” Veronica whispers into her ear as they look around at the party before them, “and I’ll take that one. The killer’s got to be in here somewhere.”
They split up, each crossing to a different side of the room, glancing back at one another every few seconds. They meet again at the drinks table, and as Veronica mixes her a vodka and soda, she mutters, “Found anything?”
“Nothing,” Meg mutters back, draining the drink and putting the glass back on the table. “You?”
“Maybe,” Veronica says. “Come and check it out.”
She takes Meg’s hand and leads her through the throng of people and down the hallway, where she opens a door. Meg raises her eyebrows.
“A closet, Veronica? Really?”
“There were clues,” Veronica says, leading her inside and shutting the door. “I think the killer stashed the murder weapon in here sometime this afternoon, and is hoping to come back and retrieve it without anyone noticing.”
“Really,” Meg says. “And do you have any idea who the killer is?”
“Actually,” Veronica grins. “I do. And I think you might too.”
“I might?”
“I happen to know, Meg Manning,” Veronica says very seriously, backing her up against the wall. “That you were here all afternoon, setting up for the party. You would have had plenty of chances to - slip away.”
Meg raises her eyebrows. “Are you accusing me, Veronica Mars?”
“Maybe I am.” Veronica steps closer, her hand on Meg’s hip.
“Are you going to make me confess?”
Veronica’s grin is devilish. “Definitely.”
Her mouth slams into Meg’s, her tongue running along Meg’s lower lip, and Meg lets it in eagerly, not caring that there’s a party just down the hall. Veronica tugs on her top, lifting it up, and Meg raises her arms to help get it off, and then Veronica’s lips find her breast, and Meg is suddenly incredibly glad that she didn’t wear a bra this evening.
“You ready to talk?” Veronica asks, pinching Meg’s nipple between her fingers, and Meg moans, her hands underneath Veronica’s sparkly top.
“No,” she pants. “But I’m sure you can make me.” As Veronica slides down, taking Meg’s jeans and panties with her, she gasps, “Everyone knows Veronica Mars’ sass can make anyone talk.”
“Well,” Veronica says, grinning up at her as she reaches the juncture of her thighs. “I am very good with my mouth.”
Meg’s head slams back against the wall as Veronica’s tongue finds her clit.
“Oh god,” she moans. “Veronica.”
But then the sensation is gone, and when Meg looks down, Veronica’s sitting back on her heels, looking up her, her mouth glistening, and the sight of it is almost enough to make Meg come right then and there.
“Are you going to confess, Miss Manning?” Veronica asks, smirking. Meg shakes her head.
“Make me.”
“Ok.” Veronica ducks her head again to land between Meg’s thighs, tongue lapping furiously, and Meg can’t stop herself from moaning.
But Veronica pulls back again, blowing softly on Meg’s clit. She shivers.
“Now are you ready?” she asks. Meg’s close to coming, her clit aching, and all she can think about is Veronica’s tongue.
“Yes,” she gasps. “I did it, it was me. I confess.”
Veronica grins up at her.
“Why Miss Manning, I knew it,” she says, and then she lowers her head and sucks hard, and Meg’s lost, shouting her pleasure so loudly she’s sure the whole party will hear her. She doesn’t care.
Veronica helps her get dressed again, and they go back out, where they settle into a corner of the room. Meg leans back against Veronica, smiling contentedly.
“I love playing Private Investigator with you.”
Fandom: Sex and the City
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Charlotte/Samantha
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today
“Hey there.”
Charlotte jumped as Samantha came up behind her at Carrie’s door.
“Hey,” she turned, smiling. “You scared me.”
Samantha chuckled, leaning down to place a kiss onto Charlotte’s lips. Charlotte leant back.
“Samantha,” she chastised, smiling. “Anyone could see.”
“So,” Samantha said. “I still don’t see why we can’t just tell Carrie and Miranda we’re fucking.”
Charlotte fixed her with a frown. “We’re not just fucking, Samantha,” she said earnestly. “We’re in a relationship.”
“Sure,” Samantha rolled her eyes. “But you wouldn’t care if they knew that. You just don’t want them to know we fuck.”
“That’s not true,” Charlotte protested. She knocked again, impatiently, on Carrie’s door. Samantha leaned down, her lips dangerously close to Charlotte’s.
“So prove it,” she whispered.
The door opened suddenly and Charlotte jumped away.
“Carrie, hi,” she said quickly. “Samantha was just -,”
“Come in,” Carrie said, already walking away. “Miranda’s here.” She turned back to grin at them. “And she brought gay porn.”
“Oh good,” Samantha said, surreptitiously grabbing Charlotte’s ass as they followed Carrie inside. “I was just telling Charlotte I needed something to get my mind off… other things.”
She saw Charlotte swallow.
In the end, they didn’t watch the porn, because Carrie wanted to whine about Big, and the others wanted to pretend that they cared. They ended up sitting on Carrie’s bed, a bowl of popcorn between them serving as an afternoon snack, and talking about men.
“I mean, he’s going to London,” Carrie said emphatically, appealing to each of them in turn. “For six months. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ll tell you what it means,” Samantha said, taking some popcorn. “It means no sex for six months. If I were you, I’d put myself back on the market.” She brushed Charlotte’s hand lightly. Charlotte shivered.
“Oh, Sweetie, are you cold?” Carrie said immediately. “Here -,” She grabbed a blanket from her closet and handed it over.
“Uh - thanks,” Charlotte said, seemingly at a loss. She spread it halfheartedly over her legs.
“Oh don’t be silly,” Samantha smirked. “That’ll never help. Here.”
She unfolded the blanket all the way and then moved closer to Charlotte, spreading the blanket over the two of them so that it covered most of their bodies. “Learn to share, won’t you?” She leaned close against the other woman.
“Well, look at you, all cozy,” Miranda said through a fistful of popcorn. She sighed. “If only I could get Steve to get that close to me.”
“He won’t get close to you?” Carrie repeated. Miranda shook her head.
“It’s like he doesn’t even notice me anymore.” She grabbed another handful of popcorn.
“Well, maybe if you took him out somewhere nice,” Charlotte suggested. “You know, do something romantic to show -”
She broke off, gasping.
“Are you alright?” Carrie asked.
“Yeah,” Charlotte said, a little shakily. Samantha smirked, and wriggled her fingers further into the front of Charlotte’s pants under the cover of the blanket. “Just a -” Charlotte coughed. “ - tickle in my throat. Never mind.”
“So I thought,” Miranda continued, “that I could do something nice. You know, a strip tease or something when he came home. But then he said he’d be working late for the next few nights and I should probably do something to amuse myself.” She sighed.
“Oh, you should definitely do something to amuse yourself,” Samantha grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She took the opportunity to work her fingers into Charlotte’s underwear at the same time.
Charlotte pulled her legs together abruptly, widening her eyes a touch at Samantha. Samantha smirked, pointedly keeping her eyes on Miranda.
“After all,” Samantha went on. “He’s probably doing the same thing.”
“What? He is not,” Miranda protested. “Steve can barely handle sex once a week. I can’t see him doing it with anyone else. And besides, where would he do it? At work?”
“Well, why not?” Samantha asked. “I’ve had sex at work more times that I can count. A person can have sex…” She moved her fingers lower, finding Charlotte’s clit. “… anywhere.” Charlotte’s whole body tensed, and Samantha let her fingers still for a moment.
“Trust me,” Miranda said. “He is not having sex with anyone else. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“Maybe he’s just busy,” Carrie said. “Big does the same thing. That’s why I cut my hair. And then he didn’t even notice.”
“I could grow my hair long, dress in a naughty school girl outfit and Steve still wouldn’t notice,” Miranda said.
“Oh, the naughty school girl is such a turn-off.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. Samantha fluttered her fingers, parting Charlotte’s folds. “Agreed,” she almost purred. “But the naughty nurse is so much hotter.” She started to stroke firmly up and down. “Don’t you think, Charlotte?”
“Uh,” Charlotte sat up suddenly, her head tipping a little backwards as she looked at Samantha. Her hand landed on Samantha’s arm, but she didn’t grip hard enough to stop her. Samantha’s hand kept on moving. “Yeah. It’s hot.”
“But that doesn't help Miranda,” Samantha said, stroking more firmly. “What do you think she should do, Charlotte?”
“Well…” Charlotte shifted restlessly.
“Are you ok?” Miranda asked again. “You look a little flushed.”
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said, too brightly. “Maybe Steve’s just being a guy. They miss things.”
“It’s true,” Carrie nodded. “It’s just men. The other night Big was inside me, and he suddenly said, ‘are you wearing contacts? Did you always have blue eyes?’”
Miranda laughed. “I guess.” She shook her head. “Why do we date men?”
“I have no idea,” Samantha said. She felt Charlotte’s hips beginning to move underneath her hand, and she sped up. Charlotte’s grip on her arm tightened, and she let out a moan, her eyes closing a little.
“Charlotte?” Carrie asked. “Really, you don’t look so good.”
“You certainly don’t,” Samantha agreed, slowing her pace down to almost nothing.
“I’m fine,” Charlotte said again, quickly. She looked at Samantha almost pleadingly, her hips rising, seeking more friction with Samantha’s hand. Samantha suppressed her smirk, stilling her hand completely.
“I think I need to go the bathroom,” Charlotte said, getting up quickly. She shot Samantha a pointed look.
“I’ll come with you,” Samantha said, unconcernedly. “Make sure you don’t get lost on the way.”
Once they were inside the bathroom, Samantha pushed Charlotte up against the closed door.
“Samantha,” Charlotte gasped. “What were you doing? Carrie and Miranda were right there!”
“Oh relax,” Samantha said. She bent forward to kiss Charlotte heatedly, one hand sliding underneath her shirt to cup a breast. Charlotte moaned softly.
“Samantha… please…”
“Oh don’t worry,” Samantha said. “I always finish what I started.”
She started to push Charlotte’s jeans down, sliding to her knees, but Charlotte pulled her back up.
“No time,” she panted. “They’re waiting for us.”
“But Charlotte,” Samantha said, her voice low in her throat. “I’m starving. I want to eat.”
Charlotte’s hips moved at her words, and she mewled a little.
“Later,” she said. “I promise.” She grabbed Samantha’s hand and pulled it down toward her clit.
“Later?” Samantha asked, deliberately keeping her fingers still.
“As soon as we get home,” Charlotte promised. “Please, Samantha.”
Samantha smiled, and then pressed two fingers into Charlotte. Charlotte tensed and leaned back against the door, her hips moving in time with Samantha’s hand.
“Samantha…” she moaned. Samantha grinned and curled her fingers, wiggling them, and Charlotte opened her eyes as she came.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” Samantha whispered in her ear as they went back to the bedroom.
“Everything ok?” Carrie asked, as they reentered.
“Charlotte was feeling a little sick,” Samantha said smoothly, settling back onto the bed away from Charlotte. “It’s all fine now.”
Carrie glancing at the darkening sky outside her window. “It’s getting late. What are you guys doing tonight? You want to get take-out and stay here?”
“Can’t,” Miranda said. “My boss is about to fire me if I don’t get this report done by tomorrow. And I’m hoping Steve will come home so I can surprise him.”
“Ok.” Carrie nodded. “Charlotte? Samantha? You guys want to stay for dinner?”
Samantha grinned and shook her head.
“No need,” she said. “We’ll be eating out.”
Charlotte squeaked.
Title: Wrong
Fandom: The OC
Pairing: Marissa/Kaitlin
Rating: NC-17 for incest
Summary: “We can’t do this.”
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today.
“We can’t do this,” Marissa said, standing up abruptly and moving to the other side of the room. “We can’t.”
Kaitlin got off the bed slowly, and walked over to her sister, watching the way Marissa’s eyes locked on the swing of her hips.
“Why not?” she asked, her voice deliberately low, her hands coming to rest on Marissa’s hips.
“It’s wrong.” Marissa looked away. “You’re my sister.”
“So?” Kaitlin let one hand slide up Marissa’s side, covering a bra covered breast. Marissa’s eyes slipped half closed, and she didn’t reply.
“We,” Kaitlin whispered, her hand finding its way underneath Marissa’s bra, “can do whatever,” she pinched Marissa’s nipple and was satisfied to hear her moan, “we want.”
With Marissa’s eyes shut completely now, Kaitlin allowed herself to smirk. She leaned forward, and a little upward, pressing her lips to her sister’s, and Marissa began to kiss back, one of her hands making its way up to cup Kaitlin’s breast. Marissa’s tongue swirled out into Kaitlin’s mouth, and Kaitlin began to pull her back toward the bed, never breaking away from the kiss.
She sank down, Marissa on top of her, her fingers working to unzip Marissa’s jeans. Marissa’s mouth moved away from her own, caressing her jaw, and then biting down on her pulse point. Kaitlin moaned.
And then the weight on top of her was gone, and Kaitlin opened her eyes to find Marissa walking away, pulling her top back on as she went.“Marissa,” Kaitlin said, sitting up. Marissa turned back for a moment, looking at her.
“You’re my sister, Kaitlin,” she said softly, already backing out of the doorway. “We can’t do this.”
Title: Role-play
Fandom: Veronica Mars
Pairing: Veronica/Meg
Summary: “Are you accusing me Veronica Mars?”
Notes: For the porn battle over at femslash_today
“You take that side of the room,” Veronica whispers into her ear as they look around at the party before them, “and I’ll take that one. The killer’s got to be in here somewhere.”
They split up, each crossing to a different side of the room, glancing back at one another every few seconds. They meet again at the drinks table, and as Veronica mixes her a vodka and soda, she mutters, “Found anything?”
“Nothing,” Meg mutters back, draining the drink and putting the glass back on the table. “You?”
“Maybe,” Veronica says. “Come and check it out.”
She takes Meg’s hand and leads her through the throng of people and down the hallway, where she opens a door. Meg raises her eyebrows.
“A closet, Veronica? Really?”
“There were clues,” Veronica says, leading her inside and shutting the door. “I think the killer stashed the murder weapon in here sometime this afternoon, and is hoping to come back and retrieve it without anyone noticing.”
“Really,” Meg says. “And do you have any idea who the killer is?”
“Actually,” Veronica grins. “I do. And I think you might too.”
“I might?”
“I happen to know, Meg Manning,” Veronica says very seriously, backing her up against the wall. “That you were here all afternoon, setting up for the party. You would have had plenty of chances to - slip away.”
Meg raises her eyebrows. “Are you accusing me, Veronica Mars?”
“Maybe I am.” Veronica steps closer, her hand on Meg’s hip.
“Are you going to make me confess?”
Veronica’s grin is devilish. “Definitely.”
Her mouth slams into Meg’s, her tongue running along Meg’s lower lip, and Meg lets it in eagerly, not caring that there’s a party just down the hall. Veronica tugs on her top, lifting it up, and Meg raises her arms to help get it off, and then Veronica’s lips find her breast, and Meg is suddenly incredibly glad that she didn’t wear a bra this evening.
“You ready to talk?” Veronica asks, pinching Meg’s nipple between her fingers, and Meg moans, her hands underneath Veronica’s sparkly top.
“No,” she pants. “But I’m sure you can make me.” As Veronica slides down, taking Meg’s jeans and panties with her, she gasps, “Everyone knows Veronica Mars’ sass can make anyone talk.”
“Well,” Veronica says, grinning up at her as she reaches the juncture of her thighs. “I am very good with my mouth.”
Meg’s head slams back against the wall as Veronica’s tongue finds her clit.
“Oh god,” she moans. “Veronica.”
But then the sensation is gone, and when Meg looks down, Veronica’s sitting back on her heels, looking up her, her mouth glistening, and the sight of it is almost enough to make Meg come right then and there.
“Are you going to confess, Miss Manning?” Veronica asks, smirking. Meg shakes her head.
“Make me.”
“Ok.” Veronica ducks her head again to land between Meg’s thighs, tongue lapping furiously, and Meg can’t stop herself from moaning.
But Veronica pulls back again, blowing softly on Meg’s clit. She shivers.
“Now are you ready?” she asks. Meg’s close to coming, her clit aching, and all she can think about is Veronica’s tongue.
“Yes,” she gasps. “I did it, it was me. I confess.”
Veronica grins up at her.
“Why Miss Manning, I knew it,” she says, and then she lowers her head and sucks hard, and Meg’s lost, shouting her pleasure so loudly she’s sure the whole party will hear her. She doesn’t care.
Veronica helps her get dressed again, and they go back out, where they settle into a corner of the room. Meg leans back against Veronica, smiling contentedly.
“I love playing Private Investigator with you.”