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The towel was itchy under Jane’s ass. She’d insisted they lay it down in case she bled. It felt medieval, clinical, but her hymen was a thing she’d describe as stubborn. A handful of her friends had bled their first time being penetrated, and that had been enough for Jane to expect the same for herself.
When they’d talked, a little awkwardly, before they got undressed, they’d exchanged some information. Lily was most definitely not also a virgin, this was so obvious that Jane hadn’t even asked to clarify. Her first time had been with a guy, and by the clipped tone with which she described it, it hadn’t been good. Most of her encounters since had been with women, though she wasn’t opposed to still taking men home. She’d made a joke about being willing to fuck anything that moved, but Jane hadn’t laughed, because it didn’t sound like Lily had intended it to be funny.
Jane had a boyfriend for eight months her senior year of high school. They’d dated for eight months, with Jane saying she wanted to wait until marriage. This hadn’t even been true, really, but it seemed like the best option for having sex with a man. They’d hadn’t done anything further than making out in the back of his car or in his parent’s basement. They’d ended things unceremoniously when Jane got drafted to play hockey. He’d been pretty sad, but Jane had just felt able to breathe again.
She remembered that year too vividly. Her last year in juniors. They were at a tournament in Tampa, half of a hotel floor to themselves and a handful of parent chaperones who knew a group of teenagers could only be controlled so much. One of her teammates, Erica, had disappeared while they were all at the pool. It was a Sunday, their one day off besides their departure day.
As it so happened, their tournament coincided with the boys’ junior league. This was a rare occurrence, no doubt something intentionally avoided by both leagues. Two groups of teenagers, amped up on hormones and endorphins from playing sports all day, and separated by only two hotel floors, was an obvious recipe for disaster.
Most of the girls on the team, with exception of those that were probably gay (that subgroup of girls were never shunned, but never really included, either), were boy crazy, and Jane convinced herself she was as well, because she thought that was what she was supposed to do. And…she was, in a way. There were several celebrities she liked, and she was fond of the idea of having a boyfriend.
She just wasn’t ready to have sex. That’s why she recoiled at the thought of it, pushing her boyfriend away whenever his fingers got too close to her bra clasp or her panty line. And the fact that she got vaguely annoyed whenever he texted her (especially if he was texting her asking to call), that didn’t mean she didn’t like men, that just meant they were growing apart.
She’d always assumed they’d break up when she went professional. It was just something that had to happen.
Jane was mulling over this as she sat with her legs dangling in the pool. She’d been lumped into the clique of cool girls at the tournament by the sheer luck of being one of the best and having parents that weren’t rich, but were just well off enough that she was in the orbit of wealth. Jane didn’t really like any of them, but they were her teammates. She would rather be with them than not, something that made her feel weird and kind of gross, but she was able to ignore this most of the time. She had the sense that if any of them really knew her, they wouldn’t want to share a pool chair or give her unsolicited tips on how to give a good blowjob.
But Jane was good at many things, and that included flying under the radar. She knew that if she kept up with what makeup was trendy, if she had a favorite member of every boy band, if she laughed at the right moments, agreed when they said something bitchy or downright cruel, then insist that they were understandable for being cruel, that they themselves were even a victim for having to suffer through any kind of discomfort, Jane would be safe.
It didn’t make her feel good, but Jane felt there was no alternative. She remembered late elementary school and middle school, the sweet spot after she realized she was different from other girls and before she realized there was something she could do about it. She didn’t want to go back to that.
Erica announced, as soon as she arrived back to the group, that she’d lost her virginity to a guy from Buffalo. He was already eighteen, which had somehow made it cooler, and they’d hooked up in his hotel room shower. Jane tried her best to keep her expression neutral, lest she draw attention to herself.
The concept of someone just being able to have sex so flippantly, especially for their first time, mystified Jane. She didn’t liken herself to being a prude, but why would you just let a random guy fuck you?
That wasn’t what Jane wanted; she was worried she was supposed to.
As she tried to tune out Erica relaying the events to the other girls, Jane watched her distorted legs and feet in the glimmering pool water. She kept all of her thoughts to herself, having the keen sense that whatever she had to say wouldn’t be received well.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Jane looked over her shoulder.
“That’s so cool, Erica,” she’d said. “I’m so happy for you.”
Even on their one day off, the team dinner at six thirty remained mandatory. Their coaches wanted them to always remember that it wasn’t a vacation.
When they all got up to leave, Erica stood up from the pool chair. On the white cushion, there was a small, pinkish spot of blood.
Her bikini being black had covered up the rest of it, and Erica, with wide eyes, had explained to one of the pool attendants that she had unexpectedly gotten her period. They’d all laughed about it after, even though Jane could tell Erica was - understandably - mortified. But Jane could also sense that comforting her would make it worse, so she just said nothing.
That had been almost three years ago now. The only thing other thing from that trip that stood out in Jane’s mind was the interrogation she’d received from her parents about two months later, when it somehow got around that a girl on the team (not Erica, but another one) had lied about having the stomach flu and had actually missed a week of practice to get an abortion.
Yuna had been insistent Jane needed to get on some form of birth control before the majors draft that August, and Jane had been equally insistent that it wasn’t necessary. Even if she had sex, Jane was positive she would never be pregnant. The thought of not using a condom was downright horrifying. In hindsight, her stubbornness made it obvious she was hiding something, so Yuna had probable cause to be strict about it. The only catch was that Jane didn’t even know what she was hiding.
The week of the majors draft, when Jane saw Lily Rozanova that one day in the showers, she got her first clue. They spent months dancing around each other, exchanged charged glances and bickering on the ice that Jane believed could maybe have layered meanings.
Midway through their rookie season, they both ended up in New York. By sheer coincidence, Montreal and Boston were staying in the same hotel, but Lily and Jane hadn’t run into each other until later that night, when Jane had gotten dragged out to a bar by her teammates and Lily had dragged her teammates out to the bar.
It was the goal of Jane’s teammates to get her to hook up with someone. Half of them were convinced she was a nun, and the others had pretty much figured it out, but thankfully kept their findings to themselves.
She’d taken a girl home from a bar in New York a month ago, thank you very much. She’d eaten Jane out, the metal of her nose ring occasionally brushing against her labia - that was the sensation Jane recalled the most vividly. Again, Jane had told a lie, saying she was a pillow princess simply because she didn’t want to risk trying to do something and exposing that she knew nothing. The entire thing had been so unremarkable Jane didn’t even count it, blaming the lack of orgasm on an SSRI prescription that didn’t even exist.
Even if Jane had wanted her teammates to know she was kinda, maybe gay, she wouldn’t have told them.
Half paying attention to the conversation happening around her and ignoring her cocktail that tasted like acid, annoyed by the smell of weed giving her a headache, Jane watched Lily duck outside. Something in her told her to follow, so she did.
Lily was leaning against the bar’s brick exterior, smoking a cigarette. Both hands were buried in the pockets of her bomber jacket, fluffy blonde curls fluttering in the night breeze.
She looked unbelievably sexy, so much so that it made Jane want to turn around and scurry back inside. She’d left her jacket at the coat check, she was freezing.
But still, she went up to Lily and started talking to her. The entire time, Lily had looked at Jane like she was crazy, and Jane was sure she was making a fool of herself. By this point in her life, she was pretty positive she was gay, and while she had good reason to think Lily was too, Jane knew how big of a risk this was.
Sure, female athletes got called dykes all the time, but it was a different thing to actually be a dyke.
There was a lull in the conversation when Jane realized she’d been talking for a minute straight without any response from Lily. She watched the Russian’s mouth twist into a smirk around her cigarette. She cocked her head to one side.
“You have a fake ID?”
Jane wrinkled her nose at the accusation. “You have one, too.”
They were both nineteen. Jane was already just telling people she was twenty because she was sick of being a teenager; she wondered if Lily did the same thing, or if she was nonchalant enough to own her age.
“Yes but,” Lily paused to take a drag from her cigarette. “You are a good girl. Good girls don’t have fake IDs.”
This made Jane blush, furiously. Lily calling her a good girl would be something she’d be playing over in her head for the next decade, at least.
Lily was also right. Jane didn’t have a fake. The bar was only twenty-one plus after ten, and her and her team had arrived at nine forty-five.
“You don’t even know me.”
Lily shrugged and grinned. “I think I know enough.”
In that moment, Jane was positive she’d blown whatever chance she may have had. But later in the night, Jane felt a nudge from the person behind her in the bathroom line. She was loopy from the two drinks she’d had; she rarely drank, and was a terrible lightweight whenever she did.
When Lily leaned in, Jane’s eyes widened, afraid and thrilled at the thought of being kissed.
But instead, Lily whispered a question. What was Jane’s hotel room number?
It was 1410.
The follow up question: If Lily left the bar ten minutes after Jane did and knocked on that door in, say, about an hour, would Jane answer?
She didn’t want to say no, but saying yes seemed too needy, so Jane said maybe. Because that was what a cool girl like Lily would say. Maybe was the picture of nonchalance; Lily would have no clue Jane would wait up half the night for her if it came to that, that she would have to bite back tears of humiliation the entire next day if Lily never showed.
Lily replied that she would maybe knock.
And maybe, that night, when Lily knocked exactly an hour after Jane left the bar and when Jane immediately answered, they should’ve known things between them would never be nonchalant.
Their first time, they’d gone down on each other. Jane spent the first hour petrified it would yield the same results as New York. It was the first time she had done anything besides just laying there, so she tried not to be too hard on herself when it was obvious Lily was lying when she said it was good. Jane had wanted to lie, say it wasn’t her first time, but she quickly realized, when Lily pushed her against the hotel room door, that her inexperience was only amplified by the fact that Lily knew exactly what she was doing.
She thought her eating-out skills weren’t that bad…for about five minutes, until Lily had returned the favor and Jane had seen stars - like, literally. She always thought that figure of speech was one of the ones that wasn’t actually real.
Over the following months, they’d met up several more times. Jane discovered she was far better at fingering and that Lily was pretty much good at everything. Jane’s favorite was when Lily would straddle her, either getting off by riding her thigh or her abs. Because then all Jane really had to do was lay there and watch Lily, which felt kind of greedy, but Jane really couldn’t bring herself to care.
Now, it was the end of their second season playing professionally. They were at an awards banquet that no one really gave a fuck about because women’s sports weren’t as important, and the players and coaches knew this double standard.
It wasn’t at a flashy Vegas hotel like the men's league. It was at a ski resort in Denver, Colorado. Jane knew Denver was objectively perfectly fine. The ski resort they were staying at was also nice. She wouldn’t even like Vegas that much. But she also knew several grown men would be throwing tantrums if the women’s league got to go to casinos instead of them.
But honestly, Jane really didn’t care. Not when her main prerogative was seeing Lily Rozanova.
And this time, they were trying something new.
It had started with a text before the banquet. Jane had been in the bathroom, the muffled conversation of the other attendees murmuring outside. She was alone, there was no need to fake small talk or interest in what the other stranger was saying. She was reapplying her lip gloss for the fourth time, because being outside was too much.
Her phone buzzed. She ignored it.
Lily was fashionably late, as she was wont to do. They were supposed to present the award for Rookie of the Year together, a fitting end considering they had both been up for the award the year prior.
Jane had won, of course.
But right now, none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was Lily showing up, because if Jane had to present by herself, Lily wouldn’t live to see her third year of professional hockey.
Her phone buzzed again. With a huff Jane picked it up.
Two texts from an Ilya.
How many inches can you take?
:)
It took several seconds too long for Jane to realize what she was she was talking about. She flushed, stomach dipping.
Where are you?
Have you ever done it before?
Are you going to be here soon?
Do you want to try?
Jane swallowed. Sweat was beginning to pool under her armpits, and there was a noticeable uptick in her heartbeat. Not unheard of when she was talking to Lily, but this was different.
If you’re here in ten minutes, I’ll let you.
Lily was there in nine and a half minutes, because she knew Jane would be counting. And Jane was indeed counting. She turned away from the clock mounted above the doors of the banquet hall, and suddenly Lily was at her side. She was wearing a scarlet gown that clung to every curve of her body, a humorous contrast to the simple black slip dress Jane had yanked from the back of her closet.
Her hair was undone, curls wild around her neck and collarbone in a way that, luckily, for her, looked intentional. The fact that she had rushed out the door, to get here at Jane’s command, was thrilling.
They had to perform some skit before announcing the award, something that would’ve made Jane mortified had it not been for the heat of Lily beside her. They avoided each other at the dinner after a silent routine they’d fallen into. They could be polite to each other, but it wouldn’t make sense for them to not just be rivals on the ice.
Jane’s room was across the hall from her parents, so they ended up meeting in Lily’s. It also just made sense, considering Lily had all the…equipment.
She had one that was nine inches. The one she was wearing tonight was two or so inches shorter, but had a slightly larger girth. It also had a slight curve that Jane was worried wouldn’t be compatible with her anatomy.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried penetration before. She had a dildo.
“You are nervous. It’s cute.”
“Fuck you.”
Jane was sitting on the edge of the bed, towel already laid out behind her, a pristine white against the even whiter duvet. She kept crossing and uncrossing her ankles, gazing up at Lily, whose golden hair was curtain between them in the dim lamplight.
Following Jane’s gaze downward, Lily smirked. “It won’t bite you.”
She was wearing a matching set, black bra and lacy black panties. The harness hugging her hips was also black, but the attached dildo was an almost offensively bright shade of purple.
Jane was wearing an old McGill t-shirt and a pair of women’s boxers, still a little too hesitant to venture out and buy mens’. She figured it would be easier if she were comfortable.
The tip of the dildo was almost at her eye level; she had the strong intrusive thought to reach out and tug it. She had a feeling that if it were real, she might’ve actually been a little scared–
Lily’s smirk stretched out into a smile. “I promise I’ll pull out. It would be no good, knocking you up for next season.”
Jane instantly flushed. How had she’d known that was where her mind was wandering? “Shut up.”
“You are too easy to tease.”
The harness was so snug that it was digging into Lily’s hips, the soft skin above spilling over a little. Jane wanted to bite it. She could easily spend the next hours staring, mesmerized, at those little pairs of love handles.
“Jane.”
Lily’s fingers threaded through Jane’s hair, down her cheek, to her chin. She guided Jane’s face up to meet her gaze once again.
“Do you want to take my cock?”
“Don’t say it that way.”
“But do you?”
Lily shifted her hand so she was cupping Jane’s cheek. Despite her crumbling resolve, Jane leaned into the embrace, nuzzling her palm.
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Lily’s voice was soft, so soft Jane would’ve really just been fine with just being held by her, wrapped up in those soft praises. “Take off your clothes, I want to see you.”
The first time they’d hooked up, Jane had left her socks on. This wasn't nearly as grievous of an error as folding her clothes while Lily, already naked, watched from the bed. However, she made sure not to do either this time, letting her t-shirt flop to the floor and her boxers slip down and off her ankles like she had never cared about wrinkled clothes one day in her life.
She hadn’t been this…robotic since their first time - the first first time. She knew some aspects would be the same, but it all felt entirely different.
“You are nervous.”
Jane swallowed. “A little.”
“Come here.”
Lily scooped her hands under Jane’s armpits, hauling her upright like she was a kitten. Her hands were then on her hips, and she was kissing her, the offending piece of silicone bumping against Jane’s stomach. But the kiss was grounding. They hadn’t kissed yet, Jane had just realized. Maybe that was why she had been going so crazy.
Jane blindly found the clasp of Lily’s bra, unclipping it. It fell to the floor as Lily guided Jane back onto the bed, kissing her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.
“I need…”
“What?”
“I need you inside me.”
Lily giggled. “So impatient,” she nipped at Jane’s earlobe. “Let’s see how well you take my fingers first, yes?”
Jane hastily nodded. They could start with that. She was good at that.
Even though the penetration was never that deep, Jane loved taking Lily’s fingers. She watched, looking down at herself as Lily worked her open with her middle and ring finger, doing the evil work of avoiding her clit.
“You’re so wet. I think you’ll be fine.”
Jane’s response was a broken whimper. She was already too close, the anticipation of what was to come dulled down to a buzz in the back of her mind.
Lily scissored her fingers, thrusting in a little bit deeper. “I have lube, if you need it,” she murmured, kissing Jane’s neck. It didn’t make sense how Lily was even able to make the phrase I have lube sound so sexy.
“Okay.”
Jane was determined that they wouldn’t need lube.
They’d needed lube. Maybe Jane would've been okay, if she hadn’t felt the blunt tip of the strap begin to nudge into her and immediately seized up, clenching everything Lily had worked to unclench with her fingers.
But the lube did help, in the way that Lily was actually able to get the tip of the strap inside Jane.
The lube was cold. The stretch stung.
“Easy, baby. Breathe.”
Lily shifted her hips, and Jane felt every atom of the movement.
It took several more tries before any real progress was made, Lily having to pause and finger Jane some more to keep her warmed up. She’d also asked, both tactfully and bluntly, if Jane was sure she wanted to do this.
Jane was still, despite everything, very sure. And very determined, and nothing stopped Jane Hollander when she was determined to do something.
“Almost there,” Lily breathed. Her tone was a teasing singsong. If Jane hadn’t felt so completely surrendered to her, she would’ve hit her.
They were at that point. The internal wall Jane had never been able to break through, try as she might. The pleasure she’d been able to give herself had never been enough to negate the pain of her hymen being worn away.
“It’s not going to fit all the way,” Jane shook her head. “It’s okay.”
Lily smirked, a small smile. “Do you want me to try?”
Jane’s breath hitched. She watched Lily carefully, eyes tracing over her features. The arch of her brows, her strong nose and jaw, her lips.
So far, nothing she’d felt with Lily had felt the same as what she’d done with herself. Some parts of it felt just as good, other parts better, but none of it had been the same.
She nodded. “You can.”
“You might feel more open if we adjust, is that okay?”
Jane nodded again.
Lily operated with an assured ease, which calmed Jane’s own racing heart. The fact that Lily knew what she was doing, and was willing to go as slow as possible, made Jane want to trust her more.
“Lift up. Your hips,” Lily tapped Jane’s right flank, right below a small cluster of pale stretch marks.
Jane obeyed automatically, flexing her thighs and raising herself. Underneath her hips, Lily placed a pillow.
“This is going to be uncomfortable for a little bit, but it shouldn’t hurt,” Lily murumured against Jane’s neck. “Tell me if it hurts."
“What should it feel like?”
“Pressure. Maybe a little burning, but you’ll get used to it. It’s not…first times aren’t supposed to be fantastic.”
“Just something you get over with, right?” Jane smiled, an attempt at a joke.
“No, no,” Lily answered quickly. “You should still want to do it….you want to do it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“No.”
For maybe the first time ever, Jane wanted to be completely transparent with a partner. She inhaled, then exhaled, feeling Lily pull out some before nudging herself back in, this time a little bit farther, with a little bit less resistance. Jane wondered if she would be able to get out of her head enough to cum; she worried that Lily wouldn’t be able to.
She tried to time her breathing with Lily’s gentle thrusts, inhaling whenever Lily pushed inward. She tried to will herself to focus on Lily’s soft praises, her kisses to her neck and breasts, her fingers dancing over her ribcage and stomach. Though they always had lube handy, Jane had never had issues being wet enough before; asking for it now felt oddly embarrassing.
“Wiggle your toes.”
“What? Fuck you.”
“I’m being serious. It helps relax the pelvic floor.”
“Who told you that?”
“My gynecologist.”
“Fuck you, actually,” Jane was irritated, but then she was laughing because Lily was laughing.
“I’m being serious! You think I’m lying? I’ll refer you,” Lily pressed a kiss onto Jane’s pulsepoint. She then moved up, nibbling along the shell of Jane’s ear, expert tongue curling against the edge. “Does it feel good? Do you want to keep going?”
“I can see how it can feel good,” Jane answered, choosing her words carefully. She was determined to make this work.
Lily laughed. “You are very funny, Jane Hollander.”
Jane said nothing, just wiggled her toes as she brought her legs up to hug around Lily’s hips. The new angle helped sink Lily in deeper and Jane felt something inside herself shift to accommodate it. The fullness suddenly felt more welcoming and less like an intrusion, and Jane found it harder to keep her breaths measured.
“Good girl. I told you it would help.”
“Yeah,” Jane flushed at the needy tone in her voice, the way it pitched up into a whine she didn’t know she could do.
There was no way Lily could get any closer to Jane. Her cervix had to be in there somewhere. She reached up, tangling her fingers into Lily’s hair, bringing her lips to hers in a fierce kiss, hot and needy. Lily grunted in surprise at the force of it, the sound sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight to Jane’s cunt. The existence of the lube on the bedside table was suddenly nonexistent; Jane didn’t want this to pause for anything.
Lily pulled away from the kiss to bury herself the rest of the way inside Jane. Jane instantly chased her mouth, so hungry for as much of Lily as possible that she didn’t even feel the ache. She bit against Lily’s bottom lip, returning the sting.
“Fuck, Hollander…you feel so good. You feel so fucking good-”
In the end, Jane had only been able to cum from Lily rubbing her clit while still buried to the hilt inside of her, something she would still definitely count as a victory. What was even more remarkable, however, was that Lily had been able to cum untouched. Jane was a tightly wound vice Lily was anchored to. She felt gooey in the pit of her stomach, her walls fluttering around the strap. In that moment, Lily pulling out felt like the worst thing that would ever happen to Jane.
Lily drew her right hand up between them, middle and pointer finger glistening with Jane’s cum. Without blinking, Jane drew the digits into her mouth, tasting the mess she’d made all over that stupid towel, combined with the taste of Lily’s skin.
If it was possible to eat a person and have them be okay and fine and everything be normal after, Jane was sure she’d do it.
Finding Lily’s gaze heady and intense, Jane let her eyes flutter close. The thrum in her core was starting to subside, along with her heartbeat.
Lily pulled her fingers away first. She shifted her weight onto one elbow, and Jane felt the shift of the silicone inside her.
“Can I pull out? Is that okay?”
Jane blinked, taking a moment to take in Lily. The flush that started at her cheeks and spread down to her breasts. The fine sheen of sweat. The mess of her curls.
“Did you…?”
Lily nodded.
“Wow. Holy shit,” Jane blinked again. “Has that ever happened before?”
Lily shrugged. “I don’t think so.”
“Really-”
“Is it okay if I pull out?”
“Yeah,” Jane nodded. “Yeah sure. Totally.”
When Lily pulled out, as carefully as she’d entered, Jane was surprised to feel the ache of her absence. The purple dildo was streaked with faint, maroon lines. Jane looked down at herself; there was a light smear of rust colored blood on the towel, right at the juncture of her thighs.
“It’s normal, don’t worry about it,” Lily tossed over her shoulder as she walked to the bathroom.
Jane propped herself up onto her elbows. “I know.”
“Okay. Knowing you, you’d think you were dying.”
“Shut up.”
Jane watched as Lily nudged the bathroom door closed behind herself. The faucet turned on. Jane started to sit up further–
“Stay there,” Lily’s voice was muffled through the door.
After a couple of minutes, Lily re-emerged, now noticeably strap-less. In her hands was a dampened wash cloth. She climbed back onto the bed, settling between Jane’s legs on her knees. She swiped the wash cloth between Jane’s legs, over her labia and the tops of her thighs. The touch was warm, gentle. In moments like this, it was hard for Jane to believe that this was the same Lily Rozanova that was such a force on the ice.
When she was done, Lily tossed the wash cloth onto the floor unceremoniously, a move that made Jane cringe. She flopped onto bed next to her, fluffy, sweaty curls fanning out on to the pillow. Jane turned over to meet her, finally abandoning her towel.
Lily reached over to cup her hip. “Should we order room service?” she grinned.
“Fuck you.”
Lily’s other hand reached up to cup her cheek. “You are a hard woman to please. I worked up an appetite."
Feeling a little giddy, probably on the post-sex dopamine everyone always talked about, Jane turned her face towards Lily’s hand, playfully biting at her thumb. Lily yanked her hand back, wrapping her hands around Jane’s waist and flipping them over, pressing her down into the mattress. Lily hummed, the noise deep in her chest as she burrowed her nose into the crook of Jane’s neck.
“You did so well,” she murmured. “You took me so well.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “So am I hard or am I good?”
“You are both, and I like that.”
This would happen sometimes; usually afterwards. They would lay together after; sometimes they would order food or put on some shitty reality show, and it would feel like they were an actual couple. At first, Jane was confused at the twist in her stomach whenever something like that would happen, until she put the pieces together and realized it was her keeping herself from getting her hopes up.
She wondered if Lily felt the same way, but even asking made things too real.