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Andy's lungs are screaming and she doesn't care. Emily's stealing all the oxygen—or she just hates breathing. Either one could be true with how tightly she's crushing their lips together.
Emily's right arm is barred around Andy's neck, her left hand is down on Andy's thigh, digging her nails into the flesh there with those painted nails, and she's rocking her hips into Andy's, like that will make one of them come.
Andy really hopes she does. She really hopes she gets to come tonight. The high shorts she's wearing are bunched up to her ass and she's trying to get Emily's leg between her thighs while sliding her hands between their bodies to push—or pull Emily.
Emily keeps sighing between the wet slide and release of their lips. She keeps moaning. She keeps fucking whimpering with her eyes squeezed shut and her perfect four layers of mascara smudged and leaking. Andy realises through half lidded eyes that Emily is a worse mess than Andy is. Sweaty and flushed. So much for being non-chalant. There was no hiding how horny you were with hair that red. The contrast was fascinating.
Andy breaks their kissing apart and a strain of spit connects between them, tickling Andy's lip as it thins. She licks it off Emily's open lips and earns her hitching breath.
“I'm gonna come on you,” Andy announces, hooking a leg around Emily's thigh, finally. She squeezes around her and presses her hips closer. “You're gonna let me come on you, okay? Em—I need to come on you.”
“Jesus, you're pathetic.” Emily's voice is hoarse. She grips Andy's neck with both hands and kisses her firmly. “No one's stopping you.” She mumbles against slickness. “You're the one wriggling around like a mutt.”
Emily cups the small of Andy's back and presses her leg against her, “Nothing's stopping you.” She whispers, nose brushing Andy's. She swallows the groan that comes from her throat.
Andy scrunches the band shirt Emily stole from her at the collar. She's so fucking glad she didn't bother with underwear, the friction of the thin, folded fabric on her clit is exquisite. Her face is burning, and sharp jolts of pleasure make her toes curl as she presses her face into the hollow of Emily's neck and hooks her ankles.
“Always so greedy.” Emily complains, squeezing Andy's lower back.
“You're going to come. You're going to rut this pathetic little heat out and you're going to make a mess. And once, you've thanked me for the honor, you'll lick it all clean. Understand?”
Emily moves Andy's head and breathes in Andy's ear, “Say thank you.”
“Oh—”
Emily nips Andy's earlobe and then her jaw. “Any day now.”
“Em—Emm—.”
“don't you fucking dare.” Emily taunts. To Andy's delight, she switches her tone to a mock whine. “Em, oh Emmy—!”
“A grown woman whining like a spoiled brat.” She spits. “What am I supposed to do? Put you over my knee?”
A smile creeps into her tone then and Andy can feel the smirk against her skin.
“Maybe you're just bad at coming.” Emily says in that soft, mocking voice. “You don't know how to do it, so you need me to make it happen.”
Andy breathed through her nose. The suggestion was laughable but that tone was lethal. The implications—Emily knew what the implications were. Fuck the implications.
“Can't say thank you, can't hump properly, can't even get a coffee order right.” Emily continues, “it's a miracle you do anything at all. You're just so… helpless.”
Her teeth scrape Andy's skin. Then she bites and pulls just so.
Andy hisses. “Bully.” she twists the shirt even more.
“Puppy.” Emily mocks. “Poor little Andy with her needy clit and her stupid shorts. What are you wearing shorts for? What's that gonna do? You don't need these—”
Emily tugs on one of the legs.
“Bet you need help taking them off. Bet you can't figure it out.” Emily leans in close, “why?” She asks softly, “cause you're a stupid, little, girl—”
“Just fuck me already.” Andy snaps.
Emily corrects herself, “stupid, bratty little girl.”
A smack lands on Andy's ass and she holds her breath.
“I'll give you an attitude adjustment, believe me.” Emily promises. “We'll get you stripped down and red bottomed before bedtime—”
“Emily.”
“You did ask for this.”
Andy did.
“Screw you, anyway.”
“Maybe some soap too.” Emily adds to the plan.
Andy squirms under the nails raking her ribs.
“I'm not your mommy, Andy.” Emily murmurs. “I'm not here to give you kisses and tuck you in after tantrums—you get what you earn… unless…”
She presses their faces together, brushing her lips on Andy’s cheek.
“Unless?” Andy presses weakly, still trying to rub it out.
Emily croons, “unless you want me to be mommy?”
“Is that what you want? You want me to bully you and tuck you into bed? Is that it? Do you want mummy, Andy?”
“I didn't even imply that,” Andy huffs.
“Oh, Andy you're as subtle as a hammer.” Emily says. “Don't worry, though. I won't be nice about it.”