Riding Bicycles 1.3 (adult)
Preface, disclaimer etc
Riding Bicycles 1.1
Riding Bicycles 1.2
Riding Bicycles
“A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle” - Gloria Steinem, feminist
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FASE ONE.three
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CJ sighs and rolls the bottle between her fingers. Unscrews the cap and allows the liquor to sit in her mouth for a few moments before swallowing. The silence drags. Usually that wouldn't bother her, but now she feels guilty because it's clear these are all her dark clouds. Still, she can't squeeze out an apology, so instead she looks up slightly and forces a smile.
“You know, Claudia, this turned out to be a pretty fun night.” Addison declares with a shit-eating grin that takes a few seconds to become genuine.
The sky clears and CJ chuckles, grateful. “Pretty fun?”
There's just the slightest hint of lines around the surgeon's eyes when the grin turns into a mock-pout. “There hasn't been any sex.”
Oh, there's no way the redhead doesn't know what she's doing. “That could still change.” This time, Addison doesn't look away and it forces CJ to rethink her options. It's spring, which she keeps forgetting and it's just one night. This woman isn't exactly the type to sell a juicy story for a quick buck. Besides, she's so earned a little treat after Simon and the crap with Abbey.
“I don't know,” Addie sighs and moves directly in front of the press secretary. Deliberately, without any signs of hesitation or anxiety, she tugs at CJ’s blouse, pulling it free from her pants. “Are you sure you remember how?”
She feigns insult, but can't keep a straight face. Throwing the last remnants of caution into the wind, CJ stands up and gently places her hands on Addison's hips. She leans in to kiss those finely shaped lips, but somehow misjudges the height difference and aims too low. A chuckle covers up her embarrassment. “Maybe not.”
The redhead's lips curve, tongue darting out to wet them. It's been too long since someone looked at her like that, the press secretary decides. “It's just like riding a bicycle,” Addison assures huskily, “it's all about making things spin.”
Things are certainly spinning when her aim improves and their lips meet - and it's not because of the alcohol. Not entirely anyway. Within seconds, her entire body tingles and the taste of Addison replaces the chemicals of her lipstick. There's nothing soft or romantic about the kiss; it's all lips and tongues, impatient and urgent.
She grips the other woman tightly, her fingers digging into soft skin and her breath hitches when the surgeon sucks on her tongue and presses herself flush against her body. The rules set, CJ gives in, slides her hands up over hips and underneath the redhead’s cashmere tunic. Addison smiles into their kiss and arches a little as Claudia covers full breasts with her hands.
Heat pools between her legs when the redhead breaks the kiss and exhales shakily. The urgency of it overwhelms her, overrules any notion of gentle or sensual, of taking time. So she lifts the woman's tunic up over her head, mesmerized by the grace with which she moves her arms. Her nails rake along the soft skin, following the edges of Addison’s lace bra to quickly undo the clasps.
She tangles her fingers through the surgeon's red locks and kisses her again - hard and demanding, mashing their mouths together as if her life depends on it.
Addison isn't complaining, works the buttons of CJ's blouse and uses her teeth to nip at the press secretary's lips and tongue. Somehow they manage to undress each other without falling. Hands are everywhere and CJ breaks the kiss to run her tongue along the redhead's throat. “Bed.” She directs, breathing heavily and taking in the woman's curves and swollen lips. Addison moves gracefully, clad only in matching puce panties.
She follows, heart pounding. Smiles and watches closely as her host turns and poses with her hands on her hips. “Well?”
Actions speak louder than words as CJ catches her by the neck, kisses her roughly and pushes her backwards until Addison falls onto the mattress. She climbs on top of the other woman, knees and hands on either side. “I think I remember after all.” To prove it, she dips her head and draws a rosy nipple into her mouth.
Addison's reaction is immediate. She shudders and gasps, arches off the bed and it reminds CJ perfectly of why she's missed this. The surgeon's skin is warm and slightly salty, with just the barest hint of sandalwood. Impatiently, Claudia tugs at the now erect tip, sucks hard and lets go, smiling when the other woman whines, “you do remember.”
“It’s coming back to me.”
The redhead bites cutely on her bottom lip, eyes blazing. CJ is about ready to jump out of her skin. Desire low in her belly, combined with the alcohol overrules any rational thought. She just wants to touch and taste and does, kisses the woman’s lips, chin and paints a path down her throat and between her breasts, always lower.
Addison’s stomach ripples beneath her mouth and sleek thighs tremble with anticipation before Claudia even reaches her belly-button. She doesn't touch now, all that belies her intentions is her breath on flawless skin.
She can’t get over how responsive the other woman is as she explores her body. Each contact between them, no matter how light, elicits a soft gasp or moan and when she pulls away, Addison arches her back to keep contact.
She's so ready. CJ inhales sharply when she pulls the damp panties down impossibly long legs and catches the unmistakable scent of need. Addison is a natural redhead and somehow that does not surprise her. Then, finally, drops her head and draws the redhead’s clit into her mouth. Addison shudders “oh God…”
Is it wrong of her to feel a little triumph? CJ doesn’t think so, not when the taste of this woman pushes all rational thoughts far, far away. She worries the hard little nub with her tongue, each flick reverberating through the redhead’s entire body. Fingers tangle in her hair, pull hard and she obliges, sucks harder and purrs.
“That’s… fuck…don’t” the plea dies in a high pitched whine when she releases the throbbing clit and smiles against the surgeon’s wet folds. She’s not going to make it easy for her.
So, she dips her tongue lower, even as sharp nails dig into her skull, and explores every fold and crease of the soaked, swollen flesh. Liquid desire coats her lips and chin and she squirms to ease the pressure between her own thighs. Addison cries out, stills completely when CJ pushes her tongue teasingly against her opening.
“Did I mention,” she questions innocently when she pulls back, her fingers tracing lazy circles on Addie’s inner thighs, “I am great in bed?”
“Didn’t. Really. Have to.” Addison grunts and pulls at the press secretary’s hair. “You plan on finishing what you started?” She questions irritably, still panting.
“Sure.”
“Anytime soon?”
The redhead’s cockiness is a turn on, it’s that feeling of entitlement she’s never had, the way she carries herself - as if the world should consider itself lucky that Addison has chosen to walk on it. She’s learned enough tonight to know that it’s mostly a front, but that only makes it more of a turn on - not that she’d ever admit it out loud - and CJ slowly pushes herself up and over the other woman until their faces are inches apart. She runs her tongue along Addison’s smudged lips and takes the surgeon’s mouth with her own, pushing her tongue deep into her.
What Addison hasn’t figured out yet, is that it’s CJ’s job to always be two steps ahead of everyone else and while she may not have done this in far too long, it is just like riding a bicycle and she has every intention of making things spin.
She repositions herself slightly just so her knee settles between the redhead’s thighs. Addison shuts her eyes, mouth slack under CJ’s assault and arches her back, pushing herself against Claudia’s knee. Shifting her weight, she frees one hand and smoothes it down the surgeon’s ribs and waist, runs her nails sharply over the prominent hipbone and through damp curls.
The small circles she rubs on the redhead’s throbbing clit soon have her on edge, her breathing quick. Sharp nails dig into her shoulder blades and CJ slides her fingers further between them, the wet heat she encounters coiling up her wrist and arm, for a moment taking her breath away.
Addison’s reaction is immediate. “Oh, god, Claudia…”
“Hold on, just let me…”
But the redhead is too far gone, can’t keep still as her fingers explore. “So close, please… just, I need…”
“Need what?”
They’re both panting, wound tight with anticipation and lust. There’s something familiar in the way Addison glares at her.
CJ defiantly nibbles on the woman’s lower lip. “Say it.”
She has the upper hand, quite literally so as she slides her fingers down, one on each side of the redhead’s throbbing clit and holds them there, wedged tightly between her own knee and Addison’s swollen folds.
Addison moans, rotates her hips in a desperate attempt to get CJ’s fingers when she wants them. Failing. She brings her arms up around Claudia’s neck, trembling as she pulls herself up. Moist lips barely graze the sensitive skin below her ear, making her shudder.
She’s reminded once more that Addison knows exactly what she’s doing when the redhead’s answer drools from hot lips onto her skin, voice low and all around throaty. “Fuck me.”
She does. Thrusts two fingers into the waiting heat, drenched instantly by the other woman’s arousal. Addison is hot and tight around her, arching up sharply to meet each thrust as she strives to push her fingers deeper into the redhead.
“Oh yes… fuck… Claud- that’s, right… There.” She finishes on a sharp moan, body straining as CJ’s fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot.
Every bit as impatient, Claudia decides enough is enough. She wants to make the redhead scream and come. Pushes her thumb against Addison hot, little clit to accomplish just that, fucking her harder, deeper. Fixated by the wetness, the feel of this stunning woman wrapped around her, she barely notices when Addison reaches the point of no return, or the nails that dig deep into her skin.
Addison is glorious when she comes. She thrashes wildly, bucks up against CJ’s hand and screams her pleasure, curses and hisses and all the while CJ keeps her rhythm, pushes for more. Until Addison jerks away with a final wail, her whole body shuddering.
Her own breathing erratic, CJ sits back and watches the redhead come down from her high.
“See,” Addison breathes, “just like riding bicycles.”
She laughs and stretches herself out on the mattress. “I almost forgot how much fun it is,” she admits. The sheen of sweat on her skin slowly dissolves, cooling her.
Next to her, Addison’s breathing is still shaky, but slowing down and turns into a giggle, ends in a shudder. “That was... wow. I don’t think I can move.”
“Hmmm, that’s the general idea.”
But after a few moments, she feels the woman shift. Still unable to do much more than roll her head to the side, herself. “I don’t usually…” the redhead starts, then corrects herself morosely, “no, sorry, this is exactly what I do.”
“Have hot sex?” The bad joke earns her a smile, though it’s not enough to light Addison’s sudden, dark mood. Oh well, you can’t win ‘em all. “What is?”
“Turn something that’s easy into a complicated, elaborate, convoluted mess.”
“You just used three words that all mean the same thing. Also,” she adds when her brief stint as thesaurus is clearly not appreciated, “what mess?”
Addison looks over incredulously. “The mess this is going to turn into when we sober up.”
“Do you usually do this? Create a problem before there is one?” The other woman actually looks offended - huffs to stress her displeasure. CJ just shrugs. They’re no college kids. “We’re not friends. We don’t even know each other’s last names.”
It’s the perfect set-up, she realizes with a fair amount of trepidation. For a second it feels like Addison might offer up that tidbit of information, instead the redhead deflates and giggles nervously. “You’re right.”
“I usually am.” Addison appears to consider that, cocks her eyebrow and Claudia thinks she really is hot and they’re already in trouble, so what the hell? By her count, she’s owed one orgasm and she’s acutely aware of her own juices on her thighs. So she raises her eyebrow too, runs her hand over the surgeon’s flat stomach. “Anyway, I think I need more practice.”
It looks like the redhead intends to settle her debt when Addison quickly straddles her with feline grace. Her long, fiery hair falls down around CJ’s face as they stare at each other. “Practice is good,” Addison murmurs before fastening her mouth on the sensitive skin just below Claudia’s ear.
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The first thing she’s aware of, other than the buzzing of her pager, is the sluggishness in her limbs. It’s been a while, but CJ recognizes the feeling instantly and grins to herself. While she feels around for the offending piece of technology, she manages not to think about the many, many ways this could be a Very Bad Thing and instead studies the sleeping woman at her side.
It’s been a ridiculously long time since she’s had sex and even longer since she’s slept with a woman, but it is just like riding a bicycle and this stranger was exactly what she needed; no pressure, no competing and someone who is a complete stranger to her life. It doesn’t hurt that Addison is stunning. She doesn’t look much different sleeping, but the relaxed state brings just a hint of soft vulnerability to her features.
Now real life is calling in the form of a panicky message on her pager and stinging eyes because she forgot to take out her lenses. The satisfied feeling she wallowed in disappears like snow under the sun. Cursing under her breath, CJ slips out from under the covers and ignores the dull throbbing of her temples. She picks up her bag from the nightstand and gathers her clothes in her arms, the trail of garments leads her out into the lounge. Carefully she closes the door behind her and drops her collection of clothes on the couch.
With her cell tucked into the crook of her neck, she struggles to put on her panties and hops inelegantly on one foot. Her eyes hurt, but at least she can see and avoid bumping into furniture. The hangover that’s not quite a hangover, is still partying on in her head, so by the time Josh picks up, her mood has plummeted to new depths. “Tell me we don’t have a Thing, Josh.”
He hems and haws, mumbles something about ‘not a problem’ and ‘tiny hitch’, but the press secretary has already given up.
“You said you’d fix this!” She brings her voice down to a loud whisper, not wanting to wake Addison.
“I did, I did,” he promises. CJ struggles with the catch of her bra when he admits, “I had her on our side again, really, but then…”
“But then you had to go ahead and say something stupid.”
“No! Well, yeah, kinda. She got the First Lady involved.”
Her phone starts to slip, but it’s impossible to close her blouse with only one hand. The first day in ages that started well and within ten minutes, it’s disintegrated into the hot mess that is her daily life. Leaving her blouse alone, she drops onto the couch. “Damn it! One day, Josh, one day to pretend that I have a normal life. Sleeping in, shopping, catching up with friends.”
“You have no friends.”
“One damn day!” She knows instinctively that he just shrank away from his phone, can picture his expression clearly, but though it usually goes a long way in making her feel better, now it does little to alleviate her frustration.
“Look, it’s a Thing, but not a Big Thing, Ceej. We just need you to come in for a few hours to handle the First Lady.”
CJ freezes, one foot poised in mid-air while she’s trying to put on a sock and - surprisingly - managing. “I have to give up my Saturday because you’re too scared to handle Abbey?” It’s a weak recovery, but Josh doesn’t notice.
“Please?”
She sighs audibly on purpose. “Talk to me.” As Josh explains her mission and the many ways in which he and Toby screwed up last night, CJ actually manages to pull on both her socks and collect her shoes from under the sofa. She gives buttoning up her blouse another try now that her phone is staying put and nudges her shoes to line up with her feet while trying to pay attention to Josh’ narrative.
“So really,” he concludes, “it’s not a Big Thing.”
With one foot in a shoe, CJ is momentarily distracted by her reflection in a mirror. She plucks at her hair, which looks as if a family of birds nested in it. “It could be a Big Thing if you don’t fix it. Soon, Josh.”
“Leo wants to know when you get here.”
Suddenly aware of grey/blue eyes watching her, CJ turns and comes face to face with her one-night stand. “Uhh…” The surgeon gestures, something, and approaches. She’s sporting a textbook example of bed head, tousled copper hair sprouting out in all directions and there’s little left of last night’s make-up. She looks gorgeous, all naked and sleepy. Despite herself, CJ smirks, then blushes when Addison starts to unbutton her blouse and rematch the buttons with the right holes. “I’m a klutz,” she admits with a quirk of her mouth.
“Who are you talking to?”
Shit. “I’ll be there in thirty.” But as usual, ignoring Josh is a tactic doomed to fail.
His voice rises a pitch, “you went home with someone!”
“Shut up.”
“Is it someone I know? It’s not Danny, is it?”
“Thirty minutes, Josh and please get one of the kids to distract Abbey for the next hour or so.” She wants to be more explicit, make sure he understands she’s talking about one of the First Daughters and not Donna or Sam, but she’s not alone and has no desire to admit her lies of omission. Without giving him a chance to respond, she snaps her phone shut and shrugs in Addison’s direction. “Sorry.”
The redhead nods, seemingly unperturbed and CJ hangs on to the offer of normalcy for a moment longer and kisses her. It’s a good kiss, considering they’re both suffering from morning breath and neither is immune to the usual morning-after-awkwardness. For CJ it’s a last chance to distract herself from what she’s about to do. She’s about to spend her morning off handling the First Lady and definitely needs to stop by the gym for a quick shower before facing Mrs. Bartlet.
“Gotta brush my teeth.” Thank God for the extra toothbrush in her bag - and the comb. She watches her face in the mirror and considers how much of her conversation with Josh the other woman could’ve overheard. It’s a small measure of comfort, knowing that she’s been careful and didn’t expose any national security secrets. When she comes out of the bathroom, Addison has disposed of the dirty dishes and empty bottles and pulled on a long blouse. “This was supposed to be my day off,” she offers lamely.
The surgeon laughs. “Sounds familiar. It’s okay.”
They lock eyes for a moment and CJ tries to tell herself she wouldn’t leave this hastily if there wasn’t a Thing. The thing is, she doesn’t know this woman, doesn’t have time to address what they did or define what they did. She doesn’t want to, because she’ll never see her again, so all she wants is to leave this room with her anonymity intact. “Thank you. For, well,” she gestures helplessly. “I had a good time.”
“So did I. I would have without the, you know, sex thing.”
“Yeah.” With her hand already on the door she can’t escape Addison’s blue eyes. There’s no reproach there, or hurt, merely understanding. They were both looking for someone new, one night to pretend life isn’t all that complicated. This could be potentially disastrous, CJ decides, but she takes a blank card from her purse, scrawls her number on it and wedges it between the door and its golden handle. “Bye.”