A-Z Challenge A
A - Apart
NC-17
A/O of course.
Apart
Five hours, twenty-three minutes and probably a few seconds after the fight Olivia sat on a bench. Men and women, young and old walked past where she sat. Walked past her as she cried silent tears. The brunette detective didn’t even know where this was going. Not anymore. Not for sure. All she knew was that she was hurting. Physically. Mentally. Wholly.
Physically because after that fight, after that final fight, Alex had pushed her up against the wall. Then she had kissed her. Then Olivia was thrown onto the bed. And after her jeans and panties were pushed down to her knees Alex had finger fucked her. Hard. Fast. Then even harder. Even faster. With one finger first. With three in the end. And god, Olivia had loved it. Had loved the long, slim fingers pushing deeper and deeper, the short nails violating her vaginal walls. She had loved every rough move, each thrust that burnt as Alex’s nails had her sore and bleeding. And even though Olivia had never fucked Alex that way, because the blonde was too delicate, and Alex never fucked Olivia like this either because she was scared to hurt her girlfriend, not to mention Alex liked it all sweet and slow, the detective loved it, moaning in pleasure, begging her partner to go harder on her, to rip her apart, to fuck her senseless and to do it right so she would still feel it days later.
Well, now she felt it hours later. Burning, stinging. And it didn’t feel good anymore. It didn’t feel like Alex’s fingers anymore. There were no thrusts, there were no nails. There was nothing Olivia’s walls clung to when she tensed. Just emptiness. Hot, burning emptiness.
Her phone beeped as she received a text message. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand before she fumbled for the mobile in her pocket. She opened the message, reading that it was from Alex. Sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you. Come back home, it’s late and I’m worried. Alex
Olivia stared at the display. ‘I didn’t mean it.’, she read again. ‘I love you.’
She closed her eyes. Long. And as she opened them again she couldn’t find herself aching. Not physically. Not Mentally. Not at all. No Burning. No stinging.
All she felt was the wetness seeping her panties and the need to get a cab home so Alex could take care of that.
NC-17
A/O of course.
Apart
Five hours, twenty-three minutes and probably a few seconds after the fight Olivia sat on a bench. Men and women, young and old walked past where she sat. Walked past her as she cried silent tears. The brunette detective didn’t even know where this was going. Not anymore. Not for sure. All she knew was that she was hurting. Physically. Mentally. Wholly.
Physically because after that fight, after that final fight, Alex had pushed her up against the wall. Then she had kissed her. Then Olivia was thrown onto the bed. And after her jeans and panties were pushed down to her knees Alex had finger fucked her. Hard. Fast. Then even harder. Even faster. With one finger first. With three in the end. And god, Olivia had loved it. Had loved the long, slim fingers pushing deeper and deeper, the short nails violating her vaginal walls. She had loved every rough move, each thrust that burnt as Alex’s nails had her sore and bleeding. And even though Olivia had never fucked Alex that way, because the blonde was too delicate, and Alex never fucked Olivia like this either because she was scared to hurt her girlfriend, not to mention Alex liked it all sweet and slow, the detective loved it, moaning in pleasure, begging her partner to go harder on her, to rip her apart, to fuck her senseless and to do it right so she would still feel it days later.
Well, now she felt it hours later. Burning, stinging. And it didn’t feel good anymore. It didn’t feel like Alex’s fingers anymore. There were no thrusts, there were no nails. There was nothing Olivia’s walls clung to when she tensed. Just emptiness. Hot, burning emptiness.
Her phone beeped as she received a text message. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand before she fumbled for the mobile in her pocket. She opened the message, reading that it was from Alex. Sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you. Come back home, it’s late and I’m worried. Alex
Olivia stared at the display. ‘I didn’t mean it.’, she read again. ‘I love you.’
She closed her eyes. Long. And as she opened them again she couldn’t find herself aching. Not physically. Not Mentally. Not at all. No Burning. No stinging.
All she felt was the wetness seeping her panties and the need to get a cab home so Alex could take care of that.