This Don't Even Feel Like Falling (Part 2)
Title: This Don't Even Feel Like Falling
Author:xjekkix
Word Count: 1476 words
Summary: One fateful night at a club
Rating: Mature. There is a little sexy time.
Disclaimer: This is not real.
Samantha waits for a moment after the girl has gone inside and takes a deep breath in and then out again. "What the fuck just happened?" she says to the empty night.
She realizes how long she's been gone and wonders if anyone has noticed her absence. Taking one last drag from her barely smoked cigarette, she pulls open the heavy door and steps inside, trying to shake her nerves.
She is taken by surprise when a body collides with her own and takes her lips captive. A pair of soft hands grab her face firmly. She opens her eyes for a moment to see flourishes of red hair and a pair of cloudy green eyes staring back at her. The girl begins to pull away but Samantha pushes her against the wall. The loud club music reverberates through the walls and she can feel the friction it has begun to create between the two bodies. She doesn't want to but she knows this has to stop.
Stepping back, she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Red lipstick is smeared around her mouth and her eyes are wide. She balls her hands into fists and looks at the bashful girl against the wall. "I need to get back to work," Samantha says, starting to walk away. If you don't go now, you never will, she says to herself, knowing it's the truth. A hand wraps around her thin wrist and she stops dead in her tracks.
Without turning around she can feel warm breath on her neck and a chin on her shoulder. "Where's the washroom? I really need to splash some cold water on my face," the voice says, raspy and irresistible. Samantha feels like her knees might buckle. Of course it's not what the girl says that stops her heart but she's begun to learn how to read between the lines. She whispers directions to the washroom and makes a beeline for her turn tables, every one of her limbs feeling heavy and reluctant.
Pushing past obnoxious partiers, she realizes how little her presence has been missed. She understands that it's not because she isn't talented but instead because in this club, no one cares about much but themselves. No job is easier than catering to an oblivious crowd. Regardless, she takes control of the records and spins a few mixes, trying to distract herself. Every once in awhile, she glances around, hoping to find Lindsay on her way back to the VIP area or dancing in the crowd.
A beer later Samantha is feeling antsy and convinces herself that she needs to go to the bathroom. By now, the house DJ has arrived and she asks him to take over in her absence.
She pushes past a crowd of drunk girls who reach out and try to touch her. A few acquaintances greet her as she squeezes past and finally she finds the quiet hallway that leads to the washrooms.
Her head pounds and her entire body feels like it's vibrating. She's not sure if it's the music or the anticipation of what she may find inside.
The bathroom door swings open with little force and Samantha steps inside. She finds she's alone and tries to tell herself she's not disappointed until she hears a throat clearing from the couch behind her.
"You've been in here an awful long time," Samantha says, turning to face the girl. In the fluorescent lighting of the room, the girl's eyes look extra sultry as she stands. Even when she laughs a little, it sounds sexier than usual.
"Only because apparently you don't take hints well," Lindsay says, purposely brushing against the DJ's arm as she walks past and into the largest bathroom stall.
Samantha swallows hard as her heart rate triples. "Oh. So you were waiting for me?" Her feet feel as though they've been cast in cement blocks. Badly, she wants to step forward and hopes her surging adrenaline will allow it.
"Mhmmm," the girl says, curling her finger as an invitation. Samantha looks behind for a moment, reassuring herself that they're alone and drags her feet forward on the floor and into the stall. She fumbles with the door, the lock and her own hands before she practically leaps forward and lets her adrenaline take the wheel.
She leans her hands against the linoleum walls on either side of the girl's thin waist, watching her face for cues. Spying a single freckle on her lip, she carefully kisses just that spot. Arms wrap around her neck and lips wrap around her own. She feels the pointed end of a tongue tease at the edges of her mouth, trying to coerce it open.
Her hands pull away from the wall and land politely on the girl's hips. She feels the girl laughing and then using her own hands to direct. Lindsay places Samantha's hands on her upper thighs, just below the bottom of her sequined dress. Her legs are smooth and muscular - and also trembling, which makes the situation a little more even.
The girl lifts a single leg slightly, balancing her foot on just her toes. Samantha takes the cue and places a hand behind her knee cap as she secures the leg behind her own back.
She feels impossibly close to the girl now and can practically feel warmth radiating from between her thighs. Reaching out, she is surprised to touch simply bare skin but doesn't hesitate or question. Her fingers shiver a little as they find moisture, as does the body in her arms.
She doesn't know what to do with her other hand, where she should put it. She's not sure how often she should kiss the girl, how softly. Should she talk or stay quiet? Is she doing it right? For someone normally very comfortable during sexual encounters, Samantha feels now like a fish out of water.
It's never like this with other girls. She doesn't care what they think, or how they feel. She just pleases them to get the same in return. What she gets in return is never that glorious, but until now, she's had nothing so incredible to compare it to.
Her doubts are proven unwarranted moments later when she hears a breathy moan escape. Apparently all she needed was an ego boost and suddenly feels like a pro. Her hands and fingers are steady now, pressing firmly inside the girl. As the pleasure is projected upon her, she no longer needs direction. She feels muscles contract, fingernails digging deeper into her shoulders and responds willingly to barely audible exclamations of "right there".
After the moment has passed, everything seems deafeningly quiet inside the echo-y bathroom stall. She continues to hold Lindsay against the wall as she catches her breath and finds herself panting, elated also. She feels more satisfied now that she has in years.
Lindsay sighs with a smile and leans her head against Samantha's shoulder. The DJ responds, wrapping her arms tightly around the girl's waist, letting her dress return to its original state. She turns her face slightly and gently kisses the girl's sweaty forehead. Despite their semi-public rendezvous, Samantha feels suddenly closer, emotionally to the woman. It's been a long time since she has felt so emotionally and sexually attracted to someone - she remembers how wonderful it feels to have those things go hand-in-hand.
The bathroom door flies open and a gaggle of noisy girls piles in. Both girls straighten up and separate. Lindsay goes for the door but Samantha pulls her back, staring at her in disbelief. We can't just leave this bathroom stall together, can we? she thinks to herself.
But they do. Lindsay steps out first, pulling Samantha with her by the thumb. "God, I hate going in public washrooms alone. Gives me the creeps," Lindsay says to the girls who are obviously too drunk to care. They laugh and whisper to each other, something like, "oh my god, Lindsay Lohan just peed in here!"
Back inside the club, Samantha takes over the turn tables once again. After getting a drink, Lindsay sidles up next to her, unusually close.
"Should be done in about 10 minutes. Sleepover?" Samantha asks. They've spent the night together before, but she's aware how different the context of the word has become.
Lindsay nods, her eyes sleepy with endorphins. "Sure, I'll meet you outside. I need some fresh air," she says, fanning herself off with a promo poster.
She struts through the club and it seems as though the crowds part to let her through. Samantha has never met someone so confident in themselves, so secure in who they are and what they want. She takes a sip from a just cracked bottle of Corona and smiles to herself. For the first time, she doesn't feel terrified to fall.
Author:xjekkix
Word Count: 1476 words
Summary: One fateful night at a club
Rating: Mature. There is a little sexy time.
Disclaimer: This is not real.
Samantha waits for a moment after the girl has gone inside and takes a deep breath in and then out again. "What the fuck just happened?" she says to the empty night.
She realizes how long she's been gone and wonders if anyone has noticed her absence. Taking one last drag from her barely smoked cigarette, she pulls open the heavy door and steps inside, trying to shake her nerves.
She is taken by surprise when a body collides with her own and takes her lips captive. A pair of soft hands grab her face firmly. She opens her eyes for a moment to see flourishes of red hair and a pair of cloudy green eyes staring back at her. The girl begins to pull away but Samantha pushes her against the wall. The loud club music reverberates through the walls and she can feel the friction it has begun to create between the two bodies. She doesn't want to but she knows this has to stop.
Stepping back, she catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror. Red lipstick is smeared around her mouth and her eyes are wide. She balls her hands into fists and looks at the bashful girl against the wall. "I need to get back to work," Samantha says, starting to walk away. If you don't go now, you never will, she says to herself, knowing it's the truth. A hand wraps around her thin wrist and she stops dead in her tracks.
Without turning around she can feel warm breath on her neck and a chin on her shoulder. "Where's the washroom? I really need to splash some cold water on my face," the voice says, raspy and irresistible. Samantha feels like her knees might buckle. Of course it's not what the girl says that stops her heart but she's begun to learn how to read between the lines. She whispers directions to the washroom and makes a beeline for her turn tables, every one of her limbs feeling heavy and reluctant.
Pushing past obnoxious partiers, she realizes how little her presence has been missed. She understands that it's not because she isn't talented but instead because in this club, no one cares about much but themselves. No job is easier than catering to an oblivious crowd. Regardless, she takes control of the records and spins a few mixes, trying to distract herself. Every once in awhile, she glances around, hoping to find Lindsay on her way back to the VIP area or dancing in the crowd.
A beer later Samantha is feeling antsy and convinces herself that she needs to go to the bathroom. By now, the house DJ has arrived and she asks him to take over in her absence.
She pushes past a crowd of drunk girls who reach out and try to touch her. A few acquaintances greet her as she squeezes past and finally she finds the quiet hallway that leads to the washrooms.
Her head pounds and her entire body feels like it's vibrating. She's not sure if it's the music or the anticipation of what she may find inside.
The bathroom door swings open with little force and Samantha steps inside. She finds she's alone and tries to tell herself she's not disappointed until she hears a throat clearing from the couch behind her.
"You've been in here an awful long time," Samantha says, turning to face the girl. In the fluorescent lighting of the room, the girl's eyes look extra sultry as she stands. Even when she laughs a little, it sounds sexier than usual.
"Only because apparently you don't take hints well," Lindsay says, purposely brushing against the DJ's arm as she walks past and into the largest bathroom stall.
Samantha swallows hard as her heart rate triples. "Oh. So you were waiting for me?" Her feet feel as though they've been cast in cement blocks. Badly, she wants to step forward and hopes her surging adrenaline will allow it.
"Mhmmm," the girl says, curling her finger as an invitation. Samantha looks behind for a moment, reassuring herself that they're alone and drags her feet forward on the floor and into the stall. She fumbles with the door, the lock and her own hands before she practically leaps forward and lets her adrenaline take the wheel.
She leans her hands against the linoleum walls on either side of the girl's thin waist, watching her face for cues. Spying a single freckle on her lip, she carefully kisses just that spot. Arms wrap around her neck and lips wrap around her own. She feels the pointed end of a tongue tease at the edges of her mouth, trying to coerce it open.
Her hands pull away from the wall and land politely on the girl's hips. She feels the girl laughing and then using her own hands to direct. Lindsay places Samantha's hands on her upper thighs, just below the bottom of her sequined dress. Her legs are smooth and muscular - and also trembling, which makes the situation a little more even.
The girl lifts a single leg slightly, balancing her foot on just her toes. Samantha takes the cue and places a hand behind her knee cap as she secures the leg behind her own back.
She feels impossibly close to the girl now and can practically feel warmth radiating from between her thighs. Reaching out, she is surprised to touch simply bare skin but doesn't hesitate or question. Her fingers shiver a little as they find moisture, as does the body in her arms.
She doesn't know what to do with her other hand, where she should put it. She's not sure how often she should kiss the girl, how softly. Should she talk or stay quiet? Is she doing it right? For someone normally very comfortable during sexual encounters, Samantha feels now like a fish out of water.
It's never like this with other girls. She doesn't care what they think, or how they feel. She just pleases them to get the same in return. What she gets in return is never that glorious, but until now, she's had nothing so incredible to compare it to.
Her doubts are proven unwarranted moments later when she hears a breathy moan escape. Apparently all she needed was an ego boost and suddenly feels like a pro. Her hands and fingers are steady now, pressing firmly inside the girl. As the pleasure is projected upon her, she no longer needs direction. She feels muscles contract, fingernails digging deeper into her shoulders and responds willingly to barely audible exclamations of "right there".
After the moment has passed, everything seems deafeningly quiet inside the echo-y bathroom stall. She continues to hold Lindsay against the wall as she catches her breath and finds herself panting, elated also. She feels more satisfied now that she has in years.
Lindsay sighs with a smile and leans her head against Samantha's shoulder. The DJ responds, wrapping her arms tightly around the girl's waist, letting her dress return to its original state. She turns her face slightly and gently kisses the girl's sweaty forehead. Despite their semi-public rendezvous, Samantha feels suddenly closer, emotionally to the woman. It's been a long time since she has felt so emotionally and sexually attracted to someone - she remembers how wonderful it feels to have those things go hand-in-hand.
The bathroom door flies open and a gaggle of noisy girls piles in. Both girls straighten up and separate. Lindsay goes for the door but Samantha pulls her back, staring at her in disbelief. We can't just leave this bathroom stall together, can we? she thinks to herself.
But they do. Lindsay steps out first, pulling Samantha with her by the thumb. "God, I hate going in public washrooms alone. Gives me the creeps," Lindsay says to the girls who are obviously too drunk to care. They laugh and whisper to each other, something like, "oh my god, Lindsay Lohan just peed in here!"
Back inside the club, Samantha takes over the turn tables once again. After getting a drink, Lindsay sidles up next to her, unusually close.
"Should be done in about 10 minutes. Sleepover?" Samantha asks. They've spent the night together before, but she's aware how different the context of the word has become.
Lindsay nods, her eyes sleepy with endorphins. "Sure, I'll meet you outside. I need some fresh air," she says, fanning herself off with a promo poster.
She struts through the club and it seems as though the crowds part to let her through. Samantha has never met someone so confident in themselves, so secure in who they are and what they want. She takes a sip from a just cracked bottle of Corona and smiles to herself. For the first time, she doesn't feel terrified to fall.