FIC: "Rocky Road" [RPF; Lea Michele, Dianna Agron]
Title: Rocky Road
Fandom: Glee/RPF
Pairing: Lea Michele/Dianna Agron
Rating: Mature for light BDSM and anal sex. It’s PWP and by PWP I pretty much mean the porn-o-lympics.
Word Count: 3136
Summary: Dianna‘s always been the more vanilla of the two. Not anymore.
Disclaimer: While the characters are based upon real people, this is a work of fiction intended for fun and not profit.
***
Your lips ghost along the nape of her neck. Her body tenses beneath you like she doesn’t want it, then she whimpers like this is her entire reason for existing. She shivers under your touch. You watch the skin of her arms, the way the muscles underneath flex and stretch. She pulls at the binds around her wrists a little harder. You feel her ass against your crotch as she arches her hips, aching for it.
“Dianna.. please,” she croaks and all you can do is smile.
The two of you have been at this for almost two hours. Well, you’ve been at this for almost two hours, she’s just been able to take what you’ve slowly, almost torturously, been giving her. And she’s about to pop.
You hadn’t seen her for over a month and a half. The show went on break, she went to New York to work on an album, you stayed in LA for a film. There were emails, texts and phone calls. Emails that became increasingly graphic as the time apart increased. Texts turned to sexting. The late night phone calls that went for hours and ended with your hand between your legs listening to her come.
Then there was the video. The tiny DV tape arrived in the mail, delivered by a PA to your trailer one day. You smiled even as you silently cursed her for making you break out the manual to the digital camera so you could connect the wires to the tv. It must be love, you’d mused.
Then you watched the tape.
Love, maybe. Lust, definitely. You stared at the screen, lungs frozen like you’d forgotten to breathe, like you’d forgotten how beautiful she was to you.
“Hi baby,” she smiled into the camera as she sat on the edge of the bed with not a single stitch of clothing on. “I was going to write an email telling you how much I miss you. Then I realized I could just show you.”
She did. The images quickly seared into your retinal cortex. Widescreen, HDTV, on a studio provided monitor so big it practically filled the wall. Lea and her honey-colored skin, wide smile and perfect lips. The slender fingers you missed so much it hurt danced across her skin, kneaded and groped perfect breasts, pinching her nipples and your mouth watered as you wished them in your mouth. Her fingers moved down her smooth stomach, although she missed the spot that always makes her giggle.
She opened her legs and your chest seized. A fresh bikini wax and you can see how wet she is for you. She talks to you as she pleasures herself, how much she misses you, how much she wants you, what she wants you to do when the two of you are back together again.
Because there were toys on the bed and she didn’t stop until she’d used them all.
You’d always been uncomfortable about doing ‘that’. You’ve only done it to her once and that was more for her than you. Sort of like that first time you did oral on a guy. Interesting but not exactly erotic. It did nothing for you until you watched as she did it for you, how she moaned as it slipped inside her, the way her brows crinkled like it hurt a little bit but felt too good to stop. The flush of her skin, the rise and fall of her hips, the crescendo of her moans with each push of her hand.
She came, writhing and trembling on the mattress, and there was a flicker of resentment because she’d never come quite like that for you. You sat, dumbfounded, aroused and silent, watching her chest rise and fall as she comes to. She slid off the mattress then walked towards the camera.
“Until next time, lover,” she said before planting her lips on the lens.
The screen went blank and, suddenly, you came. It was only after the stars faded and your heart rate returned to normal that you realized you hadn’t even touched yourself.
You became obsessed. Not just about ‘that’ but her, pleasuring her. It plagued your every thought. You began screwing up takes, flubbing lines and just not being in the moment. When the shoot ended, you couldn’t pack your suitcase fast enough. Then your agent called to tell you he’d landed you a bit part in a new Penny Marshall rom-com and, instead of a plane to New York, you’re headed to San Francisco because Lea would kill you if you didn‘t jump on the opportunity.
You found a number. You’re not sure from who, Heather, more likely Naya, maybe. Either way, the shoot broke early and you found yourself standing in a non-descript little shop talking to a plump, pear-shaped woman who looked like she should have a cooking show on the Food Network as opposed to teaching classes about safe sex and lesbian BDSM. You lied and said you were researching a role but, even though actors by trade are nothing more than liars, you were never good at lying.
So you told her the truth - your girlfriend knows more about sex than you do and you want to even the tables. You arranged for a private class. The first day you blushed so hard you thought your face would catch fire. But, it didn’t stop you from coming back for four more days. You learn a lot and not enough. You feel empowered and a little bit gloaty because maybe, just maybe, you now know a few things she doesn’t.
The next day was sheer torture. The waiting, the anticipation, the things you’d planned and the possibility of those plans coming to fruition.
The day arrives. Her key slides into the lock and your heart’s pounding so loud you wonder if it’s about to burst.
“Dianna?” she calls out as she enters your apartment. She’d tried to surprise you by taking an earlier flight and you lied about not being able to pick her up at the airport. Too many things left to do, too many preparations needing completion.
“Back here,” you call out to her.
“Someone’s been busy,” she purrs standing in the doorway to the bedroom as you light the last candle. You’re dressed in nothing special - white panties and matching chemise. A ruse to appear as virginal as possible. You want her surprised.
“God,” her voice drips with a hunger you instantly recognize. “I could eat you with a spoon.”
You turn instantly raising a hand. “Stop,” your voice is low, firm. She blinks in confusion, the corners of your lips barely pull at the firm line. “Take off your clothes.”
There’s no argument, no funny quip or passing remark to break the sudden tension. Just you tell her to strip and her eyes go dark and her hands are on her body, quickly peeling off her clothes. You merely stare, trying your damnedest to keep it all in because, God, do you want her and the more of her skin that’s revealed the harder it is to *not* take her right then and there.
“Turn around.”
First is the blindfold. You step behind her, pulling the silk scarf over her eyes.
“A blindfold?” she says. “Kinky.”
You have no idea. But you don’t say it. You don’t want to give too much away. Not yet. She’s so close to you. Her scent - hair, perfume, soap - you take a small nibble out of her shoulder just to get a taste, to alleviate a little of the pressure building within you.
She eagerly takes the hand you clasp around hers, lets you guide her to the bed, where she quickly climbs onto the mattress and rolls onto her back. You bat her hands away as she tries to pull you down for a kiss while you’re straddling her hips. When she doesn’t get the message, you pin her hands by the wrists and hold her down. It’s not rough, just a little forceful and she quickly understands your message - this is your show, not hers.
Compliance comes quickly. She relaxes. You release your hold. There’s a towel on the bed, the place where you’ve kept hidden your arsenal of pleasure. First are the restraints, thick leather cuffs, not those pink and faux-feathered nightmares you first saw. Real cuffs. You slide it around her wrist and feel her intake of breath.
“We don’t have to do this,” you whisper softly, almost afraid. “If it gets to be too much, just say stop and I will.”
“I swear to God if you stop right now, I’ll fucking kill you,” she laughs even though she’s kinda serious but her voice lowers, quiets. “I trust you.”
Your heart squeezes and salt stings the corners of your eyes because, God, you really do love this woman. You lean down, brush you lips against hers. “I love you.”
“I know,” she smiles back.
“Bitch,” purrs playfully from your mouth. You thread the chain through the headboard and cuff her other wrist. Leaning back, you stare down at your handiwork because she’s all yours now - long, brown hair spilling out onto the pillow, full lips opened and panting, flushed honey-colored skin, pert breasts and her nipples..
She cries out, jolting beneath you as you place the clamp onto the already erect nub.
“Lea?”
“I’m okay. It’s just..” she licks her lips, giggling a little to release some tension. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s kinda the point.” You were always the more vanilla of the two. Now, you’re more Rocky Road. “You want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare!” she hisses, her hips squirming, arms pulling at her restraints. She’s as close to the edge as you are.
“Shall I continue?”
“Please,” she moans, then moans again, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as you secure the other clamp. She has a better idea of what to expect now and she’s definitely enjoying this.
Next is the candle. You’re good at this, eager to show her everything you’ve learned even if the only person you’ve practiced this on was yourself. You hold the candle at the right distance, not too high or the wax cools too much and not too low or it doesn’t cool enough but just right. She hisses as the wax is slowly dripped then drizzled onto her breasts.
Gently, you peel the slightly hardened wax off her skin. You pucker your lips and blow cool air onto her, then lathe the barely reddened flesh with your tongue. You worship her breasts, slather them with your tongue until her skin is glistening with sweat and saliva. She’s squirming beneath you, letting out little whimpering pants like this actually hurts her but you know how much she gets off on this. Because you’ve removed the clamps now, replacing them with your lips and fingers and she’s so fucking close now. She’s clamped her thighs together, undulating her hips to increase the friction.
“Dianna..” she whines. “Please.”
You don’t even bother kissing your way down. One second you’re sucking her nipples, the next you’re tossing her thighs onto your shoulders. You gaze lovingly, hungrily at her sex. Sex you know like the back of your hand and like you’ve never seen before. You’ve missed her so much, missed *this* so much - the smell, the feel, the taste of her. You’re all tongue, devouring her, luxuriating in her taste, her texture, licking and lapping every fold and crease and crevice. You wanted to take your time but, fuck it, you’re here now, you’ve got all night and, hell, you *know* you’ll be coming back for seconds.. and thirds.
Three fingers slide easily in because Lea’s *that* fucking wet. Lips around her clit and you’re all suction and friction and fucking her like you’re going for gold in the fuck-a-lympics. She wants to fuck herself on camera for you? You’ll show her how it’s done, fuck her like she should be fucked, like she wants it, like she deserves it.
Before you can think about finding your groove, she’s coming, bucking and writhing, squeezing your fingers like she doesn’t want to ever let go. You slow your pace, milk her for every aftershock, like she’s an amusement park ride and you’re going to make damn sure you get every penny’s worth.
She’s still recovering when you climb off the bed and peel out of your clothes. The harness fits perfectly on your hips. You choose the old one, the one Lea bought for you a year ago, because it seems fitting for the occasion - a night of firsts. You climb back onto the bed. Your hands are shaking as you roll her over onto her stomach, spread her legs open as you walk on your knees and situate yourself between them.
She visibly shivers, body tensing at the sound of a latex glove snapping around your hand. You place it on her ass, massaging the firm globe.
“You know what I’m going to do next, don’t you?” you ask and she nods her head hurriedly, hips already arching, lifting her ass to you.
The lube is slick and cool but quickly warms as you liberally pour it over your fingers. Suddenly nervous, you swallow hard because you’ve never really touched her here before, at least, not like this, massaging, touching, exploring. Two fingers. She groans, it sounds like a saw slowly drawn over old wood. She rolls her hips, pushing herself back onto your fingers. Something twitches hard between your legs because you’ve never seen anything so hot in all your life.
And, now, you want it as badly as she does.
A whimpering mewl escapes her throat as you withdraw your fingers. You remove the latex glove because it’s just easier to put the condom on without it. You grip the shaft, hold it firm as you guide it in. There’s a little bit of resistance. Expected. She tenses, inhaling a breath and you still, waiting for her to relax. Another hard swallow, another lick of the lips and then you watch as you slowly ease into her.
Her groan is muffled because her face is buried in the pillow and you think she might be biting it. Her body’s so tense, she’s shaking.
“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice tinged with worry.
“No.” Her head shakes back and forth vigorously. She turns her head so you can see her profile. “Don’t stop.. please.”
Forearms on the mattress, breasts on her back, you press down on her, like she likes it, how you like to give it to her. She’s the first to move, rolling her hips against you. The rhythm is slow and steady but she’s trembling under you, shaking. She’s wanted this for so long.
The pace increases, just a little. Just enough. You kiss the back of her neck, trail your lips along the shell of her ear. You whisper the dirtiest things you can think of and she curls into you like you’re a lovelorn poet whispering a sonnet. She’s soo close now, straining, fighting against the inevitable because she doesn’t want it to end. So you slide a hand underneath her, slip it between her legs, press your fingers against her clit.
“Come for me, baby.”
She comes. It hits her like a jolt. Hits so hard when she tenses she lifts you up. You slow, not stop, because she’s never come for you like this, a facet she’d kept hidden, too afraid to reveal because of your squicks. But she can reveal it now and it bursts from her in an explosion of moans, and trembles and quakes. She arcs her hips and the stimulator presses hard against your clit and you’re joining her, the two of you plunging over the edge.
Together.
The bliss, the oblivion is glorious. It’s why you don’t realize she’s crying. Not at first. But then you’re withdrawing from her, probably a little too quickly, yanking the harness off your hips and tossing it onto the floor. You’re afraid you’ve hurt her. Terrified even. An almost blind panic, you unfasten the cuffs, pull off the blindfold. God, what have I done? You ask yourself.
“Lea?” you ask, cradling her face with your hands.
Her eyes focus. She blinks, looking up at you like she’d forgotten you were there.
“Did I hurt you?” You don’t want to know even though the question still falls from your lips.
“No. God, no!” her eyes widen. “I just.. I never, not with anyone else..”
You crush her lips with yours in understanding. The two of you weren’t virgins when you met, but you’ve been firsts in so many other ways. With this, you were hers.
“I love you,” you whisper even though those three words don’t seem nearly enough compared to what you feel for her. For what she does to you.
She answers with a kiss of her own. The tears begin to flow again, hers and yours. And the two of you fall asleep cradled in each others arms.
**
Sometime later, you awake to the sensation of lips on your clit. You will the lids of your eyes to pull up, lifting your head to gaze down at the crown of brown hair between your legs.
“Good fucking morning,” you grunt, almost laughing.
Lea releases your clit, lifts her head and smiles broadly. “Not morning, but it is fucking and it’s definitely good,” she says, sliding in two fingers that instantly has your back bowing and your hands clenching the sheets. “Do I even want to know where you learned all that?”
“I’d tell you but then I’d have to fuck you.”
“Mmm,” she leans down, kissing the inside of your thigh right at the crease. “Why don’t *I* fuck you and you tell me anyway.”
You rise onto your elbows, gazing confidently down at her. “What? Somebody jealous because this vanilla’s gone all Rocky Road and she can’t handle it?”
“Please, my Chunky Monkey totally trumps your Rocky Road!”
“You know something I don‘t?”
“I’d tell you,” she smiles, descending once again between your legs. “But then I’d have to fuck you.”
There’s a retort but it dies at the back of your throat from the sudden sensation of her lips, once again, wrapping around your clit. The two of you don’t leave your apartment for another four days and you marvel at your ability to walk straight the immediate following days.
At the moment, you just close your eyes and give in to the pleasure. The two of you are together now and will be for a very long time and, hopefully, the future. A future together down a path that’s anything but..
A rocky road.
END
Fandom: Glee/RPF
Pairing: Lea Michele/Dianna Agron
Rating: Mature for light BDSM and anal sex. It’s PWP and by PWP I pretty much mean the porn-o-lympics.
Word Count: 3136
Summary: Dianna‘s always been the more vanilla of the two. Not anymore.
Disclaimer: While the characters are based upon real people, this is a work of fiction intended for fun and not profit.
***
Your lips ghost along the nape of her neck. Her body tenses beneath you like she doesn’t want it, then she whimpers like this is her entire reason for existing. She shivers under your touch. You watch the skin of her arms, the way the muscles underneath flex and stretch. She pulls at the binds around her wrists a little harder. You feel her ass against your crotch as she arches her hips, aching for it.
“Dianna.. please,” she croaks and all you can do is smile.
The two of you have been at this for almost two hours. Well, you’ve been at this for almost two hours, she’s just been able to take what you’ve slowly, almost torturously, been giving her. And she’s about to pop.
You hadn’t seen her for over a month and a half. The show went on break, she went to New York to work on an album, you stayed in LA for a film. There were emails, texts and phone calls. Emails that became increasingly graphic as the time apart increased. Texts turned to sexting. The late night phone calls that went for hours and ended with your hand between your legs listening to her come.
Then there was the video. The tiny DV tape arrived in the mail, delivered by a PA to your trailer one day. You smiled even as you silently cursed her for making you break out the manual to the digital camera so you could connect the wires to the tv. It must be love, you’d mused.
Then you watched the tape.
Love, maybe. Lust, definitely. You stared at the screen, lungs frozen like you’d forgotten to breathe, like you’d forgotten how beautiful she was to you.
“Hi baby,” she smiled into the camera as she sat on the edge of the bed with not a single stitch of clothing on. “I was going to write an email telling you how much I miss you. Then I realized I could just show you.”
She did. The images quickly seared into your retinal cortex. Widescreen, HDTV, on a studio provided monitor so big it practically filled the wall. Lea and her honey-colored skin, wide smile and perfect lips. The slender fingers you missed so much it hurt danced across her skin, kneaded and groped perfect breasts, pinching her nipples and your mouth watered as you wished them in your mouth. Her fingers moved down her smooth stomach, although she missed the spot that always makes her giggle.
She opened her legs and your chest seized. A fresh bikini wax and you can see how wet she is for you. She talks to you as she pleasures herself, how much she misses you, how much she wants you, what she wants you to do when the two of you are back together again.
Because there were toys on the bed and she didn’t stop until she’d used them all.
You’d always been uncomfortable about doing ‘that’. You’ve only done it to her once and that was more for her than you. Sort of like that first time you did oral on a guy. Interesting but not exactly erotic. It did nothing for you until you watched as she did it for you, how she moaned as it slipped inside her, the way her brows crinkled like it hurt a little bit but felt too good to stop. The flush of her skin, the rise and fall of her hips, the crescendo of her moans with each push of her hand.
She came, writhing and trembling on the mattress, and there was a flicker of resentment because she’d never come quite like that for you. You sat, dumbfounded, aroused and silent, watching her chest rise and fall as she comes to. She slid off the mattress then walked towards the camera.
“Until next time, lover,” she said before planting her lips on the lens.
The screen went blank and, suddenly, you came. It was only after the stars faded and your heart rate returned to normal that you realized you hadn’t even touched yourself.
You became obsessed. Not just about ‘that’ but her, pleasuring her. It plagued your every thought. You began screwing up takes, flubbing lines and just not being in the moment. When the shoot ended, you couldn’t pack your suitcase fast enough. Then your agent called to tell you he’d landed you a bit part in a new Penny Marshall rom-com and, instead of a plane to New York, you’re headed to San Francisco because Lea would kill you if you didn‘t jump on the opportunity.
You found a number. You’re not sure from who, Heather, more likely Naya, maybe. Either way, the shoot broke early and you found yourself standing in a non-descript little shop talking to a plump, pear-shaped woman who looked like she should have a cooking show on the Food Network as opposed to teaching classes about safe sex and lesbian BDSM. You lied and said you were researching a role but, even though actors by trade are nothing more than liars, you were never good at lying.
So you told her the truth - your girlfriend knows more about sex than you do and you want to even the tables. You arranged for a private class. The first day you blushed so hard you thought your face would catch fire. But, it didn’t stop you from coming back for four more days. You learn a lot and not enough. You feel empowered and a little bit gloaty because maybe, just maybe, you now know a few things she doesn’t.
The next day was sheer torture. The waiting, the anticipation, the things you’d planned and the possibility of those plans coming to fruition.
The day arrives. Her key slides into the lock and your heart’s pounding so loud you wonder if it’s about to burst.
“Dianna?” she calls out as she enters your apartment. She’d tried to surprise you by taking an earlier flight and you lied about not being able to pick her up at the airport. Too many things left to do, too many preparations needing completion.
“Back here,” you call out to her.
“Someone’s been busy,” she purrs standing in the doorway to the bedroom as you light the last candle. You’re dressed in nothing special - white panties and matching chemise. A ruse to appear as virginal as possible. You want her surprised.
“God,” her voice drips with a hunger you instantly recognize. “I could eat you with a spoon.”
You turn instantly raising a hand. “Stop,” your voice is low, firm. She blinks in confusion, the corners of your lips barely pull at the firm line. “Take off your clothes.”
There’s no argument, no funny quip or passing remark to break the sudden tension. Just you tell her to strip and her eyes go dark and her hands are on her body, quickly peeling off her clothes. You merely stare, trying your damnedest to keep it all in because, God, do you want her and the more of her skin that’s revealed the harder it is to *not* take her right then and there.
“Turn around.”
First is the blindfold. You step behind her, pulling the silk scarf over her eyes.
“A blindfold?” she says. “Kinky.”
You have no idea. But you don’t say it. You don’t want to give too much away. Not yet. She’s so close to you. Her scent - hair, perfume, soap - you take a small nibble out of her shoulder just to get a taste, to alleviate a little of the pressure building within you.
She eagerly takes the hand you clasp around hers, lets you guide her to the bed, where she quickly climbs onto the mattress and rolls onto her back. You bat her hands away as she tries to pull you down for a kiss while you’re straddling her hips. When she doesn’t get the message, you pin her hands by the wrists and hold her down. It’s not rough, just a little forceful and she quickly understands your message - this is your show, not hers.
Compliance comes quickly. She relaxes. You release your hold. There’s a towel on the bed, the place where you’ve kept hidden your arsenal of pleasure. First are the restraints, thick leather cuffs, not those pink and faux-feathered nightmares you first saw. Real cuffs. You slide it around her wrist and feel her intake of breath.
“We don’t have to do this,” you whisper softly, almost afraid. “If it gets to be too much, just say stop and I will.”
“I swear to God if you stop right now, I’ll fucking kill you,” she laughs even though she’s kinda serious but her voice lowers, quiets. “I trust you.”
Your heart squeezes and salt stings the corners of your eyes because, God, you really do love this woman. You lean down, brush you lips against hers. “I love you.”
“I know,” she smiles back.
“Bitch,” purrs playfully from your mouth. You thread the chain through the headboard and cuff her other wrist. Leaning back, you stare down at your handiwork because she’s all yours now - long, brown hair spilling out onto the pillow, full lips opened and panting, flushed honey-colored skin, pert breasts and her nipples..
She cries out, jolting beneath you as you place the clamp onto the already erect nub.
“Lea?”
“I’m okay. It’s just..” she licks her lips, giggling a little to release some tension. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“That’s kinda the point.” You were always the more vanilla of the two. Now, you’re more Rocky Road. “You want me to stop?”
“Don’t you dare!” she hisses, her hips squirming, arms pulling at her restraints. She’s as close to the edge as you are.
“Shall I continue?”
“Please,” she moans, then moans again, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as you secure the other clamp. She has a better idea of what to expect now and she’s definitely enjoying this.
Next is the candle. You’re good at this, eager to show her everything you’ve learned even if the only person you’ve practiced this on was yourself. You hold the candle at the right distance, not too high or the wax cools too much and not too low or it doesn’t cool enough but just right. She hisses as the wax is slowly dripped then drizzled onto her breasts.
Gently, you peel the slightly hardened wax off her skin. You pucker your lips and blow cool air onto her, then lathe the barely reddened flesh with your tongue. You worship her breasts, slather them with your tongue until her skin is glistening with sweat and saliva. She’s squirming beneath you, letting out little whimpering pants like this actually hurts her but you know how much she gets off on this. Because you’ve removed the clamps now, replacing them with your lips and fingers and she’s so fucking close now. She’s clamped her thighs together, undulating her hips to increase the friction.
“Dianna..” she whines. “Please.”
You don’t even bother kissing your way down. One second you’re sucking her nipples, the next you’re tossing her thighs onto your shoulders. You gaze lovingly, hungrily at her sex. Sex you know like the back of your hand and like you’ve never seen before. You’ve missed her so much, missed *this* so much - the smell, the feel, the taste of her. You’re all tongue, devouring her, luxuriating in her taste, her texture, licking and lapping every fold and crease and crevice. You wanted to take your time but, fuck it, you’re here now, you’ve got all night and, hell, you *know* you’ll be coming back for seconds.. and thirds.
Three fingers slide easily in because Lea’s *that* fucking wet. Lips around her clit and you’re all suction and friction and fucking her like you’re going for gold in the fuck-a-lympics. She wants to fuck herself on camera for you? You’ll show her how it’s done, fuck her like she should be fucked, like she wants it, like she deserves it.
Before you can think about finding your groove, she’s coming, bucking and writhing, squeezing your fingers like she doesn’t want to ever let go. You slow your pace, milk her for every aftershock, like she’s an amusement park ride and you’re going to make damn sure you get every penny’s worth.
She’s still recovering when you climb off the bed and peel out of your clothes. The harness fits perfectly on your hips. You choose the old one, the one Lea bought for you a year ago, because it seems fitting for the occasion - a night of firsts. You climb back onto the bed. Your hands are shaking as you roll her over onto her stomach, spread her legs open as you walk on your knees and situate yourself between them.
She visibly shivers, body tensing at the sound of a latex glove snapping around your hand. You place it on her ass, massaging the firm globe.
“You know what I’m going to do next, don’t you?” you ask and she nods her head hurriedly, hips already arching, lifting her ass to you.
The lube is slick and cool but quickly warms as you liberally pour it over your fingers. Suddenly nervous, you swallow hard because you’ve never really touched her here before, at least, not like this, massaging, touching, exploring. Two fingers. She groans, it sounds like a saw slowly drawn over old wood. She rolls her hips, pushing herself back onto your fingers. Something twitches hard between your legs because you’ve never seen anything so hot in all your life.
And, now, you want it as badly as she does.
A whimpering mewl escapes her throat as you withdraw your fingers. You remove the latex glove because it’s just easier to put the condom on without it. You grip the shaft, hold it firm as you guide it in. There’s a little bit of resistance. Expected. She tenses, inhaling a breath and you still, waiting for her to relax. Another hard swallow, another lick of the lips and then you watch as you slowly ease into her.
Her groan is muffled because her face is buried in the pillow and you think she might be biting it. Her body’s so tense, she’s shaking.
“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice tinged with worry.
“No.” Her head shakes back and forth vigorously. She turns her head so you can see her profile. “Don’t stop.. please.”
Forearms on the mattress, breasts on her back, you press down on her, like she likes it, how you like to give it to her. She’s the first to move, rolling her hips against you. The rhythm is slow and steady but she’s trembling under you, shaking. She’s wanted this for so long.
The pace increases, just a little. Just enough. You kiss the back of her neck, trail your lips along the shell of her ear. You whisper the dirtiest things you can think of and she curls into you like you’re a lovelorn poet whispering a sonnet. She’s soo close now, straining, fighting against the inevitable because she doesn’t want it to end. So you slide a hand underneath her, slip it between her legs, press your fingers against her clit.
“Come for me, baby.”
She comes. It hits her like a jolt. Hits so hard when she tenses she lifts you up. You slow, not stop, because she’s never come for you like this, a facet she’d kept hidden, too afraid to reveal because of your squicks. But she can reveal it now and it bursts from her in an explosion of moans, and trembles and quakes. She arcs her hips and the stimulator presses hard against your clit and you’re joining her, the two of you plunging over the edge.
Together.
The bliss, the oblivion is glorious. It’s why you don’t realize she’s crying. Not at first. But then you’re withdrawing from her, probably a little too quickly, yanking the harness off your hips and tossing it onto the floor. You’re afraid you’ve hurt her. Terrified even. An almost blind panic, you unfasten the cuffs, pull off the blindfold. God, what have I done? You ask yourself.
“Lea?” you ask, cradling her face with your hands.
Her eyes focus. She blinks, looking up at you like she’d forgotten you were there.
“Did I hurt you?” You don’t want to know even though the question still falls from your lips.
“No. God, no!” her eyes widen. “I just.. I never, not with anyone else..”
You crush her lips with yours in understanding. The two of you weren’t virgins when you met, but you’ve been firsts in so many other ways. With this, you were hers.
“I love you,” you whisper even though those three words don’t seem nearly enough compared to what you feel for her. For what she does to you.
She answers with a kiss of her own. The tears begin to flow again, hers and yours. And the two of you fall asleep cradled in each others arms.
**
Sometime later, you awake to the sensation of lips on your clit. You will the lids of your eyes to pull up, lifting your head to gaze down at the crown of brown hair between your legs.
“Good fucking morning,” you grunt, almost laughing.
Lea releases your clit, lifts her head and smiles broadly. “Not morning, but it is fucking and it’s definitely good,” she says, sliding in two fingers that instantly has your back bowing and your hands clenching the sheets. “Do I even want to know where you learned all that?”
“I’d tell you but then I’d have to fuck you.”
“Mmm,” she leans down, kissing the inside of your thigh right at the crease. “Why don’t *I* fuck you and you tell me anyway.”
You rise onto your elbows, gazing confidently down at her. “What? Somebody jealous because this vanilla’s gone all Rocky Road and she can’t handle it?”
“Please, my Chunky Monkey totally trumps your Rocky Road!”
“You know something I don‘t?”
“I’d tell you,” she smiles, descending once again between your legs. “But then I’d have to fuck you.”
There’s a retort but it dies at the back of your throat from the sudden sensation of her lips, once again, wrapping around your clit. The two of you don’t leave your apartment for another four days and you marvel at your ability to walk straight the immediate following days.
At the moment, you just close your eyes and give in to the pleasure. The two of you are together now and will be for a very long time and, hopefully, the future. A future together down a path that’s anything but..
A rocky road.
END