Reaffirmed Innocence
Title: Reaffirmed Innocence
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Sex! Huzzah for naughty bits and people doing naughty things to them. There really isn't that much, but I find people read stories if they know they are dirty.
The soft pink fabric of a teenage girl's comforter slid through her fingers, warm and soft, smelling faintly of lilacs, and maybe something else - dove soap, warm and clean. It felt good against her bare legs and arms, as she rolled over on to her side and pressed close to the other warm body in the bed. She was tempted to put her arm around the other warm body - but she knew that wasn't right. The bed wasn't right, the smell and the feeling wasn't right and that stopped her. For a long minute she didn't move, just opened her eyes and let them adjust to the very faint light of a tv that had been left on in the other room. The room wasn't the right room, it was messy, pink, filled with posters and make up that was scattered all over the floor from practice. Popcorn covered the books and the random assortment of clothes that had been dumped on the floor.
Not her room. Not manly. Not Jimmy's. Eyes closed and the whole scene blessedly fell away from her sight and she was wrapped up in the warm and the lilacs once more. Her breathing was slow, steady and she could feel herself drifting off, forgetting why she had woken up in the first place. When there was another movement in the bed she had remembered suddenly, why she had woken up. There was another hand against her's, and a soft voice called out from the darkness, asking her if she was awake. For a long time she gave no response, allowing her body to relax, to ignore the question. She could feel the hand move - slightly, up her arm and to her side where it stopped and tugged at the hem of the tank top that she wore.
Olivia remembered how odd it felt wearing clothes to bed. She had almost discarded them the moment she slid into the soft pink cocoon, but stopped when Gretchen had given her an odd look as she climbed into the other side. Olivia had to explain that she had gotten use to sleeping naked, because it had been so hot in the apartment - the irony of that statement not lost on the sixteen year old. When the question was pressed no further she simply laid down and relaxed in a room that wasn't her's - a room she had never even dreamed about having. All the rooms had been plain up to this point, plain or much more manly then would ever be expected from a little girl. Posters tried to cover the pink and white stripped wall paper, and stickers and papers had been tacked to the white furniture.
The fingers were moving again, and from the darkness the voice asked if she could see it again. Olivia nodded and rolled over on to her back - eyes still closed as she let the other girl explore the piece of art on her hip. She could hear the rustle of covers, the movement of the warm body next to her's and she remembered Jimmy. She thought about his well used hands, his soft mouth against her skin - kissing slowly down the smooth flesh to her panties. His growl of need as he smelt her and then his grin as he teased her till she begged him to make her feel good. To eat her - like that first time they had been together. She tried not to remember the details, the feeling of his tongue against her clit, down her slit making her pant, making her wet until she cried out and . . . Olivia's eyes flew open at the pinch on her thigh. "What are you thinking about?" The voice destroyed the dream and brought her back to reality.
She tried to slow her breathing and shrug the question off, she had been whimpering - thinking about the way her boyfriend touched her. The way he flipped her over on to her stomach and drove deep inside of her as she moaned and pleaded for more against the three-hundred count, Egyptian cotton sheets that she had bought for the bed. That bed was much different from the one she was in now. That bed smelt like cologne, like sweat, like sex. Not a bad smell, but one that reminded her of Jimmy, it was a clean and dirty smell. The faint odor of laundry detergent seeping through the many layers to bring out that clean and freshness that she loved after a good wash. Their bed was still hard, huge and wide - so much so that if she laid in the very center she couldn't reach any edge no matter how far she stretched. On sunny mornings, when Jimmy was already out of bed that's what she would do - lay in the white waves and stretch herself out - groaning as she woke her muscles up and tried to grab at the edges, to pull herself out of the massive, all consuming sea of warmth and comfort. Rolling into that warm spot that Jimmy had slept in, that smelt more like him, of aftershave, and maybe a little cigar smoke.
This bed was nothing like that one. This bed was smaller, softer, worn from use - from a little girl jumping up and down on the bed despite their mother's warning that they would crack their head open if she continued. It creaked, the springs groaning and protesting as even their small bodies shifted in anyway at all. This bed was innocent, and smelt as such. This bed had never been used for sex, or any illicit act of any kind. Olivia idly wondered if Gretchen even touched herself at night while laying on the soft sheets that her mother washed every week, even if they didn't need it. As ink stained fingers moved over her skin she decided that no, Gretchen had never touched herself - probably didn't even know how, or even the true purpose of the act. Much too innocent, much too naive to even think about such things.
So why was the red headed's breath falling a little faster against her skin, why were her fingers reaching up under the the thin fabric of the tank top. Olivia knew the question before Gretchen even thought to asked it, and at that moment she realized that there was very few options out of what she had some how gotten herself into. It was only then that she opened her eyes again, to gaze into the soft green eyes of the girl that laid next to her. Her lips were still pink from lipstick, and the corners of her eyes were smudged with dark eyeliner that made her eyes appear to be wider, more white, more green - it stood out against the white snow night light of the tv. "You are so pretty." Was the breathless compliment her companion gave her, and then let out a nervous giggle. For a moment no response came to Olivia, but when it did all she could do was nod and then smile.
"You are too, Gretchen."
"I want to kiss you." There was no hesitation in the response to the compliment, no shy naivety that Olivia had assumed with the girl.
The simple statement caught the dark haired girl off guard, and for a moment she wondered about how truthful the rumors were at school about the girl that shared the bed with her. Did that matter? She supposed not but when her chest got tight with nervousness and surprise she closed her eyes and thought about the sandy haired man she had left alone for the night. A barrage of images flooded her mind, half of them filled with women she didn't know, and he was going to know all too well - and the other half was filled with dangers, of him getting hurt - then him being disappointed in her for what she had done. It was only a kiss, but Olivia was very much aware of what a kiss could lead to. Nothing, in this world, was only something. It wasn't only a kiss, or a promise, or a compromise.
Gretchen's fingers played over the inked commitment on her skin and Olivia's thumb played with the silver promise around her finger. Both girls laid in silence until Olivia cleared her throat, her voice was thick and scratchy from nervousness, from sleepy disuse and when she spoke she tried to keep her tone soft. "I can't. It's not right, my boyfriend would be upset if I did. I'm sorry -- it's not . . ." Gretchen put a finger to Olivia's lips and shook her head slightly. "It's okay. Just go back to bed." As fast as the intense heat of the girl had come, it moved away, fingers abating from skin, and breath from her cheek. Rolling over on to her side leaving Olivia alone, letting her relax as she she tried to sleep for the rest of the night.
In the morning the girl's went with Jimmy to brunch, if there was any tense resentment between the two girl's, Olivia couldn't tell. The two joked, and laughed happily with the older man as they ate their meal and recounted the nights events, sans the late night confrontation under the blankets. Still, Olivia didn't fully relax until Gretchen had been taken home, and she was safely on the bed with Jimmy. Until they were both naked, his stronger body covering her's, his teeth on her collar, nipping and growling as they both showed one another how much they missed each other without words. His hands slid over her skin, his fingers, thick and strong, rough from use, reclaiming her - wiping away any memory she might have kept about the smaller, softer hands on her that night.
Their exploration of each other was conducted with the eagerness of lovers who hadn't seen each other in years - not two people who had spent the night apart. She was free with him, to laugh and roll against the cool white sheets that smelt like him - like them, the combination of smells and passions that were produced when they were together. This was her lover, his hands, his body, his mouth that engulfed hers. This was their bed, and this is where she knew she belonged.