Fic (Crossing Jordan/ The L Word): Ordinary (Jordan/ Shane, NC-17)
Ordinary
(Crossing Jordan/ The L Word, Jordan/ Shane, NC-17)
Author's Notes: One more for the femslash_today P0rn Battle. This could be my new OTP.
“We don’t have to talk,” Jordan says. She throws her keys on the bureau and takes of her sunglasses. “If you don’t want to.”
She sounds tired, nothing like a seductress. She lifts her blouse over her head, discards it carelessly on the floor.
”Fine with me,” Shane says, unbuttoning her shirt. She catches sight of the luggage in the corner, baggage tags still attached. “Passing through?”
“Something like that,” Jordan says.
Shane hears what Jordan doesn’t say: stop asking questions and fuck me already. Shane wonders when she became that kind of girl; the one that wants to talk. She tosses her shirt on the floor next to Jordan’s blouse, mauve clashing with the green. Jordan’s wearing a bra. Shane isn’t.
“Turn around,” Shane says. And Jordan obediently presents her back to Shane. Shane flicks the hooks open, and slides the straps over Jordan’s shoulders. Jordan’s skin is pale against her dark hair, not sun-kissed like the women of West Hollywood. Shane bites Jordan’s shoulder lightly and Jordan arches her neck backwards. “Tell me what you want,” Shane says, against Jordan’s ear.
“I want to forget,” Jordan says.
“Forget what?”
“All of it. Everything. Can you do that?”
Shane nods. “Maybe.”
The bra falls away and Shane’s hands are on Jordan’s breasts, her mouth at Jordan’s neck. Jordan pulls Shane’s hips against her and they’re not going to stay upright like this, so Shane pushes Jordan forward until she’s against the wall, palms against the wallpaper. Shane covers Jordan’s hands and they’re pressed into each other spoon-like, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. They’re the same height but Jordan walks tall and proud, full of self-assurance. When she walked into the Planet everyone noticed.
Shane flicks the clasp on Jordan’s jeans open and drags them to her knees. She’s wearing red cotton panties. Practical. Like she never intended anyone to see them. Shane runs her finger around the elastic, circling once, and then pushing them to her knees with her jeans. Jordan kicks them both to the floor.
“Lose your pants,” Jordan says, turning her head toward Shane. She’s got hair everywhere and Shane pushes it over her shoulder so she can take in the long and narrow expanse of Jordan’s back as it slopes down to her perfect ass. It’s a sight worth appreciating.
Shane takes her time. “You’re giving orders now?” She says. She takes her pants off anyway.
“I don’t role-play,” Jordan says. “If that’s what you’re after.”
“Not me,” Shane says. “Give as many orders as you like, baby.”
”And don’t call me baby.”
Shane shrugs. “Okay.”
She slides her hand up the inside of Jordan’s thigh. Jordan lets out an, “Oh,” and obliges by parting her legs on cue. Shane goes with the momentum, slipping fingers inside Jordan as easily as they slid up her legs. Jordan pushes back, too eager, and Shane withdraws, wanting to take it slow.
“Don’t rush it,” Shane says. “We’ve got all night.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jordan says breathlessly. She moves her hips again and Shane gives her a little more, three fingers instead of two. Shane’s other hand circles Jordan’s hips and comes to rest above her clit. Not now, it’s too soon, but Shane wants to tease, hint at what’s to come.
“Fuck,” Jordan says, riding Shane’s hand. Shane likes women who swear and Jordan’s Irish Catholic bearing makes it all the more titillating. Shane’s own arousal grows pressing and she grinds herself against Jordan’s ass.
Jordan reaches back and pulls Shane’s hips against hers, grinding back. They move in synch, Shane’s hand inside Jordan, going with the cant of Jordan’s hips. They breathe in together with each up-thrust and let it out again in a huff.
Jordan’s shoulder blades stand our starkly against the plains of her back, inviting Shane to bite them lightly. She trails a line of tiny bites across to the spot below Jordan’s neck and bites the thin cover of flesh there too.
Jordan winces. “Now,” she says. “Make me come now.”
The cleft between Jordan’s legs is wet and slick and Shane’s fingers slide easily across Jordan’s clit. “Yeah,” Shane says. “Okay.”
It doesn’t take much after that; a flick of Shane’s fingers on Jordan’s clit and another finger inside her, opening her up. Jordan cries out, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against the wall as she thrusts against Shane once more, her muscles clenching around Shane’s hand over and over.
“Jesus,” she says, and her body goes slack.
“Yeah,” Shane says, her breath ragged. She slides her hand out from inside Jordan, resting her fingers on Jordan’s hips, leaving a wet left behind where her fingers have slid against Jordan’s skin.
Jordan turns around and leans back against the wall, facing Shane. “Not bad,” she says, smirking a little.
“Yeah,” Shane says. “Not bad.”
“You fuck like you’re on a mission,” Jordan says.
An image of Carmen flashes into Shane’s head. She pushes it away quickly. “So do you.”
Jordan shrugs. “I care about what I do.”
“So what’s your deal?” Shane says. She goes and sits on the bed, leans back on her hands. “Girlfriend leave you? Boyfriend?”
“I need a break sometimes,” Jordan says. “When I need a break I come to LA.”
“What do you need to get away from?” Shane wonders why she cares. She really is turning into that kind of girl. She bends over the side of the bed and reaches for her pants on the floor, searches the pockets for cigarettes.
Jordan comes toward the bed, takes Shane’s hand and pushes her back onto the mattress, straddling her thighs. “No talking,” Jordan says. “Remember?” Her hand strays between Shane’s legs.
“Hey,” Shane says. “I don’t usually…”
“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Jordan says. She shuffles down the bed and parts Shane’s legs, hands on her knees. “But tonight you do.”
Her tongue is hot, licking its way to the top of Shane’s thigh. Shane covers her eyes with her arm and arches her pelvis into Jordan’s mouth. It’s an ordinary room in an ordinary hotel and West Hollywood could be miles away instead of just outside the window.
No one needs to know.
(Crossing Jordan/ The L Word, Jordan/ Shane, NC-17)
Author's Notes: One more for the femslash_today P0rn Battle. This could be my new OTP.
“We don’t have to talk,” Jordan says. She throws her keys on the bureau and takes of her sunglasses. “If you don’t want to.”
She sounds tired, nothing like a seductress. She lifts her blouse over her head, discards it carelessly on the floor.
”Fine with me,” Shane says, unbuttoning her shirt. She catches sight of the luggage in the corner, baggage tags still attached. “Passing through?”
“Something like that,” Jordan says.
Shane hears what Jordan doesn’t say: stop asking questions and fuck me already. Shane wonders when she became that kind of girl; the one that wants to talk. She tosses her shirt on the floor next to Jordan’s blouse, mauve clashing with the green. Jordan’s wearing a bra. Shane isn’t.
“Turn around,” Shane says. And Jordan obediently presents her back to Shane. Shane flicks the hooks open, and slides the straps over Jordan’s shoulders. Jordan’s skin is pale against her dark hair, not sun-kissed like the women of West Hollywood. Shane bites Jordan’s shoulder lightly and Jordan arches her neck backwards. “Tell me what you want,” Shane says, against Jordan’s ear.
“I want to forget,” Jordan says.
“Forget what?”
“All of it. Everything. Can you do that?”
Shane nods. “Maybe.”
The bra falls away and Shane’s hands are on Jordan’s breasts, her mouth at Jordan’s neck. Jordan pulls Shane’s hips against her and they’re not going to stay upright like this, so Shane pushes Jordan forward until she’s against the wall, palms against the wallpaper. Shane covers Jordan’s hands and they’re pressed into each other spoon-like, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. They’re the same height but Jordan walks tall and proud, full of self-assurance. When she walked into the Planet everyone noticed.
Shane flicks the clasp on Jordan’s jeans open and drags them to her knees. She’s wearing red cotton panties. Practical. Like she never intended anyone to see them. Shane runs her finger around the elastic, circling once, and then pushing them to her knees with her jeans. Jordan kicks them both to the floor.
“Lose your pants,” Jordan says, turning her head toward Shane. She’s got hair everywhere and Shane pushes it over her shoulder so she can take in the long and narrow expanse of Jordan’s back as it slopes down to her perfect ass. It’s a sight worth appreciating.
Shane takes her time. “You’re giving orders now?” She says. She takes her pants off anyway.
“I don’t role-play,” Jordan says. “If that’s what you’re after.”
“Not me,” Shane says. “Give as many orders as you like, baby.”
”And don’t call me baby.”
Shane shrugs. “Okay.”
She slides her hand up the inside of Jordan’s thigh. Jordan lets out an, “Oh,” and obliges by parting her legs on cue. Shane goes with the momentum, slipping fingers inside Jordan as easily as they slid up her legs. Jordan pushes back, too eager, and Shane withdraws, wanting to take it slow.
“Don’t rush it,” Shane says. “We’ve got all night.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jordan says breathlessly. She moves her hips again and Shane gives her a little more, three fingers instead of two. Shane’s other hand circles Jordan’s hips and comes to rest above her clit. Not now, it’s too soon, but Shane wants to tease, hint at what’s to come.
“Fuck,” Jordan says, riding Shane’s hand. Shane likes women who swear and Jordan’s Irish Catholic bearing makes it all the more titillating. Shane’s own arousal grows pressing and she grinds herself against Jordan’s ass.
Jordan reaches back and pulls Shane’s hips against hers, grinding back. They move in synch, Shane’s hand inside Jordan, going with the cant of Jordan’s hips. They breathe in together with each up-thrust and let it out again in a huff.
Jordan’s shoulder blades stand our starkly against the plains of her back, inviting Shane to bite them lightly. She trails a line of tiny bites across to the spot below Jordan’s neck and bites the thin cover of flesh there too.
Jordan winces. “Now,” she says. “Make me come now.”
The cleft between Jordan’s legs is wet and slick and Shane’s fingers slide easily across Jordan’s clit. “Yeah,” Shane says. “Okay.”
It doesn’t take much after that; a flick of Shane’s fingers on Jordan’s clit and another finger inside her, opening her up. Jordan cries out, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against the wall as she thrusts against Shane once more, her muscles clenching around Shane’s hand over and over.
“Jesus,” she says, and her body goes slack.
“Yeah,” Shane says, her breath ragged. She slides her hand out from inside Jordan, resting her fingers on Jordan’s hips, leaving a wet left behind where her fingers have slid against Jordan’s skin.
Jordan turns around and leans back against the wall, facing Shane. “Not bad,” she says, smirking a little.
“Yeah,” Shane says. “Not bad.”
“You fuck like you’re on a mission,” Jordan says.
An image of Carmen flashes into Shane’s head. She pushes it away quickly. “So do you.”
Jordan shrugs. “I care about what I do.”
“So what’s your deal?” Shane says. She goes and sits on the bed, leans back on her hands. “Girlfriend leave you? Boyfriend?”
“I need a break sometimes,” Jordan says. “When I need a break I come to LA.”
“What do you need to get away from?” Shane wonders why she cares. She really is turning into that kind of girl. She bends over the side of the bed and reaches for her pants on the floor, searches the pockets for cigarettes.
Jordan comes toward the bed, takes Shane’s hand and pushes her back onto the mattress, straddling her thighs. “No talking,” Jordan says. “Remember?” Her hand strays between Shane’s legs.
“Hey,” Shane says. “I don’t usually…”
“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Jordan says. She shuffles down the bed and parts Shane’s legs, hands on her knees. “But tonight you do.”
Her tongue is hot, licking its way to the top of Shane’s thigh. Shane covers her eyes with her arm and arches her pelvis into Jordan’s mouth. It’s an ordinary room in an ordinary hotel and West Hollywood could be miles away instead of just outside the window.
No one needs to know.