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I shouldn’t have been surprised that Sharon retreated behind a wall of polite professionalism after our encounter in the file room. It made perfect sense, given everything I knew about her.
But it still shocked me when she stopped making eye contact, stopped greeting me in anything more than the most perfunctory way, and started keeping at least three feet away from me at all times.
Well, Sharon, message received. Hated, but received.
Over my next few weeks of obsessively rehashing every second of our time together, the signs of her hesitance and fear became more and more obvious. She did say “just this once.” So this immediate distancing had always been her plan—if bargaining with god for a lesbian hall pass counts as a plan, anyway.
I could only imagine the sort of upbringing she must have had to still be this way at 40. Still so scared of who she was and what she wanted. I pitied her, to be honest. Well, I tried to pity her, when I wasn’t too busy pitying myself.
My crush was now a thousand times worse, and Sharon’s behavior made it very clear that I shouldn’t expect a repeat performance.
I went through all the normal phases of breakup grief, even though I was technically grieving a relationship that had only existed in my mind.
I was angry, hurt, and confused, but mostly hurt. And she was my boss, and deeply closeted, so I didn’t even feel like I had any recourse for how she’d left things, or anybody I could talk to about the whole messy situation. I could only give my friends a few vague hints at a closeted woman who had broken my heart.
I’m not proud of it, but I did try to get a little revenge for how badly rejected I felt, in the small ways that were available to me.
I dressed as sharply as I could afford to and made sure I emphasized the things I knew she liked (my boobs, my more masculine style of dress and behavior). I went out of my way to be friendly to every other female employee, especially while Sharon was also present. And every time I went to the bar, I made sure she saw the stamp on my hand the next workday. It was innocuous looking, but she knew what it was, and I saw her swallow and look away every time she noticed it.
I still felt her eyes on me sometimes, especially when I was wearing a new outfit or had just been to the barber. The day I wore a suit and tie to work because I had an event immediately afterwards, Sharon couldn’t take her eyes off me. She actually stuttered when she said good morning to me, and then immediately blushed and power-walked back to her office. I told myself I was not taking mental note of that reaction for any particular reason, but even I didn’t really believe that.
I loved knowing that I wasn’t alone in these stupid, complicated, impractical feelings. That she was suffering too, even if it was self-inflicted.
Mostly, I felt like such a loser, hung up on my closeted boss even after dancing and making out with half a dozen other women at the bar. I wanted to ask someone on a real date, even if it sucked, just to feel like I had made some kind of progress, like I was finally moving on.
Unfortunately, the heart wants what it wants, as they say. And my heart wanted Sharon, even though I knew it was impossible. She was literally the worst person in the world for me to fixate on, and yet I still couldn’t seem to get her out of my head.
After a few months of this, it was Dani who finally managed to get through to me. “Kate, I know you’re hung up on your mystery woman, but you’re so miserable. You need to break the routine, get out of your shell, and at least get laid. Seriously, you’re a hot young butch and you’re spending your prime years moping around over some closet case.”
I bristled a little on Sharon’s behalf, but Dani had a point, and I knew it. So I let her and TJ hype me up, and I went to the bar in my best butch finery, wearing my newly acquired strap under my clothes. It was a little awkward, and I felt very conspicuous, but I did sort of enjoy the interested looks it got me on the dance floor.
I especially enjoyed when a tiny blonde woman introduced herself as Stacy and immediately started grinding on me. She wrapped my arms around her, slid my hands down around her hips, and squeezed until I held on. I grinned over her shoulder at TJ, who was giving me a thumbs up from the bar.
A couple songs later and we were doing more making out than dancing. Stacy couldn’t keep her hands off me, and I loved the attention, although I wasn’t as invested as she seemed to be. I was pretty sure I was going to be fucking Stacy in the parking lot later if she had her way, and I wasn’t entirely opposed.
But I was starting to feel uncomfortable about how much we were doing in the middle of the dance floor. I felt eyes on us, and I tried to coax Stacy’s hands into slightly more appropriate places. Then I glanced up and saw exactly whose eyes were on us.
I froze, stunned at the incredibly poor timing of Sharon returning to the bar now, tonight, just when I was trying to move on. It was like dumping a bucket of ice water on my libido.
Stacy didn’t notice my lack of participation for a few seconds—I revised my guess at how drunk she was a couple ticks upward. But eventually she realized something was happening, and she backed up enough to make eye contact.
“What’s wrong hon, your ex here?”
I had no idea how to answer that without lying or giving her paragraphs of painful personal history. “I think, um, I think I need to go. Sorry.”
“Wait, let me give you my number.”
I reluctantly handed over my phone, not sure if I loved or hated that Sharon was watching me get the number of an attractive, age-appropriate woman who was clearly down to fuck at the very least.
Stacy texted herself from my phone, then handed it back. I saw she’d put herself in as Stacy followed by a pink heart, a tongue, and a cat emoji, and I had to smirk a little. She did seem like the type.
I managed to extract myself from Stacy’s octopus-like grip without too much further difficulty, then I headed to the bar to say goodnight to TJ and Dani.
I showed them Stacy’s contact as proof that the night hadn’t been a complete bust. I could tell Dani looked suspicious about why I was leaving at 10:30 on a Friday night, but I just shook my head subtly and tried not to look in Sharon’s direction. “I can’t stay. Sorry, I—I just can’t. Maybe tomorrow night. Sorry.”
Dani gave me a heavy look. “You sure you’re okay, squirt?”
I rolled my eyes at her. Dani was a good decade my senior, and “squirt” was the nickname she’d given me when I first showed up at the bar nine months ago, wet behind the ears and too nervous to even look directly at any of the hot femme ladies.
“I—no, but I can’t talk about it right now. I have to go.”
Dani’s eyes narrowed, scanning the crowd over my shoulder. She squeezed my forearm gently, keeping me from moving away. “That’s not good enough, squirt. You in trouble? Do I need to rough somebody up?”
I shook my head, more and more anxious about how long it was taking me to leave. My heart was racing uncomfortably as I kept picturing Sharon staring at me.
“I’ll text you, I swear!”
She looked at me for a few seconds longer, probably saw how nervous I was, and nodded slowly. “You better. Don’t make me worry about you, squirt. You know we’re here if you need anything.”
“I know.”
I left the Cosmic Turtle with a sigh of relief, still feeling shaky about Sharon seeing me making out with someone. Again.
God, I just couldn’t catch a break.
And apparently I still couldn’t, because when I turned the corner to where I’d parked, Sharon was leaning against the driver’s side of my car, waiting for me.
I blinked and faltered a little, but ultimately kept walking.
A confrontation in a parking lot didn’t seem like Sharon’s style, but I had no idea what else was about to happen. I couldn’t help a touch of curiosity (and okay, yes, maybe a little hope) as I saw how intensely she was watching me.
She didn’t say anything as I approached, but she also didn’t move away from the driver’s side door.
“Sharon,” I said quietly. “Do you really want to do this here? Now?”
She hesitated for a moment, licking her lips.
On some sort of impish instinct, I let her see me staring at them, then glanced back up to her eyes.
The sudden flush of pink on her cheeks was visible even in the dimly lit parking lot. I did my best to ignore how cute it was and focus on my own anger and hurt.
“I came to the bar to get laid, and you just derailed my plans. So unless you’re planning to ask god to let you off the hook so you can fuck me again, I need you to back off and leave me alone.”
Her cheeks got even redder at that, and I swear I heard her gasp a little, though she tried to hide it.
I stepped closer to her, close enough that she would have to touch me to leave her spot by my car door. She leaned back against the driver’s side window and stared at me, silent except for her rapid, unsteady breaths. But she didn’t move away.
“Sharon, I can’t help but notice that you’re not leaving. So does that mean you do want to fuck?”
She shuddered. Her mouth opened, then slowly closed again. She scrunched her eyes shut, looking pained.
Sensing a moment of weakness, I took another step and bent even closer, until there was only a breath of space between my chest and hers.
“Sharon,” I whispered, “unless you tell me no, I’m going to kiss you. Right here in this parking lot, where anyone could see us. So what will it be? Kiss or no kiss? I need you to decide, or I’ll decide for you.”
Sharon’s eyes popped open. Her throat bobbed. Her hips gave a weak little thrust, as if she intended to push away from the car but didn’t really want to.
But I was already leaning in, so instead of pushing away from the car, she only succeeded in rubbing herself against my crotch.
Her eyes got huge, and she let out a breathless whine.
“Oh God,” she whispered. “How did you—how do you…?”
I really should have kissed her then, as a woman of my word. But she had me too curious. “How do I what?”
She stared down at my pants, no doubt looking for the outline of my strap, then raised her tortured gaze to my face again. “How do you always know exactly what I want, what’s too hard to resist?”
I swayed a little under the weight of that revelation.
Damn her. Damn her for being so fucking hot and perfect and impossible.
“Sharon, unless you want me to fuck you, I need you to stop talking about how hard it is to resist me.”
Sharon swallowed, then swallowed again.
She didn’t deny it. I waited and waited, and her lips moved several times, but she couldn’t seem to make herself say it.
Blood thundered through my ears, pounded between my thighs.
“Where?” I finally asked, leaning forward until I was whispering directly into her mouth. “Where do you want to get fucked tonight, Sharon?”
“Katherine,” she said, eyes scrunched closed again as tears threatened to break free at any moment. She was trembling now. “Katherine, I—please.”
I tipped my head and leaned in further, until my lips were right next to her ear. “Do you want me to take you home and fuck you in your bed, so you can picture me there the next time you get yourself off?’
Her hips jerked into me again, and she gasped and clutched at my shoulders. “God forgive me, yes. Katherine, I—yes.”
I was half convinced Sharon would change her mind on the drive from the bar to her house, but she didn’t. She got into the passenger seat without a word and remained silent the whole way, except to give the occasional direction when I’d forgotten a turn (I’d been to her house before, but not in many years).
I did my best to focus on driving, but just being in the car with her and her perfume was honestly kind of overwhelming. It brought back a flood of memories from our time in the file room.
Every time I glanced over at Sharon, she looked almost like her normal, serene self, except that sometimes she would glance sideways at my hands or my lap and squirm in her seat. I felt my clit throb every time I noticed it happening.
By the time we arrived at her house, I was ready to burst with the need to touch her, to get those modest clothes off and see the beautiful body underneath. To finally have a chance to reciprocate.
When we got inside, she took off her shoes and set her keys down on autopilot and then paused in the entryway, looking lost. She glanced at me uncertainly as I followed suit.
“Do you want me to take the lead?” I asked.
She nodded and my stomach lurched. I was suddenly hot and shivery all over.
“Then take me to your bedroom and I’ll do the rest.”
Sharon set off towards the back of the house and I followed close behind, hoping I could live up to these reckless promises I was making. Something told me that with chemistry like ours, even inexpert sex was going to be amazing.
Then we were there, in her room, and she was staring at the bed with her back turned towards me, shaking so hard I could see it from where I stood in the doorway. The lamp on her nightstand outlined her in a warm glow.
I stepped in and closed the door behind me, approaching her slowly.
“It’s okay to change your mind,” I told her. Please, please don’t change your mind. “You can tell me to leave and I’ll go home without another word. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
She let out this weird, hiccup-y sort of laugh. Her voice sounded hoarse, as if she’d been crying. “I do want to. I want it so much. A lack of desire is not the problem, Katherine.”
My knees did their usual wobble when she said my name, but it was even better when she was talking about wanting me.
I stepped closer and cautiously slipped my hands onto her waist, drawing myself up against her back. She jumped and then sighed, and I felt her shoulders drop a little.
“What’s the problem, then? Anything I can do to help?”
She bowed her head. “You could try being less attractive,” she offered petulantly, but I could hear in her voice that she was only half serious.
I laughed a little bit. “Sorry, I think wearing a trash bag to work is against the dress code. You’ll have to take that one up with my boss.”
She blew out a long breath and tipped her head back and sideways to lean against mine. My stupid heart fluttered a little bit.
“I don’t think even that would work,” she admitted after a minute.
“I’m terribly sorry for being so hot,” I whispered, nuzzling my nose against the back of her neck. “Let me make it up to you.”
She chuckled. Her body shivered and went pliant against me as I began to drop tiny kisses on her neck and shoulders.
“If it helps, I think you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever met.”
She half-turned toward me, eyebrows raised skeptically.
“Seriously. You know what a mess I was just from you touching my back or my shoulders or my arm. You know how many times you caught me staring at you. I’ve never reacted this way to anyone else. I…you’re just so hot. You make me a little crazy.”
“I’m as flat as a pancake,” she protested, but I could tell she was trying not to look pleased.
“I love pancakes.”
She snorted a little bit.
“But you’re not flat, you’re just slender. And I happen to like the way you’re shaped, so stop saying mean stuff about yourself and let me see you like I’ve been fantasizing about for so long.”
“I’m too muscular,” she protested again, a little half-heartedly, but she turned towards me a little more, so I was basically hugging her from the side.
“Sharon, I love muscles. I could stare at your calves and forearms for hours, and I’m desperate to know what your biceps and your abs look like. You’re not going to scare me away with muscles any more than I’m going to scare you away with boobs.”
Her cute little lip bite did nothing to hide her blush or the smile I could see wanting to creep onto her face.
“How about this,” I offered. “I’ll get undressed first, and then you’ll be too distracted by my tits to worry that I’m getting you naked.”
She blushed even more, but she didn’t say no to my plan, so I grinned at her and started stripping.
I’m generally a bit self-conscious about my naked body. I’ve always been on the curvy side, and I carry the extra weight in my hips and thighs, which I don’t love. But it helped to remember that Sharon had already seen me mostly naked and done her best to devour me whole, so she clearly enjoyed the way I was shaped.
She let out a little sigh, probably unconsciously, when I took my bra off. Then when I got my pants off and she saw the unsubtle bulge in my boxer-briefs, she swallowed. I stuck my thumbs in the waistband and hesitated a moment, letting the anticipation build. The way she stared after I finally took off my underwear—well, let’s just say that her response was very good for my ego.
My heart rate kicked up at least two notches as I stepped forward to start undressing her, dildo bobbing awkwardly in front of me.
She inhaled a little sharply when I reached for the buttons on her suede jacket. I paused. “This okay? You can still say no. You can always say no.”
Sharon blinked down at me. She looked slightly dazed. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”
So I carefully unbuttoned, unhooked, and unzipped, removing her jacket, her modest blouse, and her voluminous dress pants.
She looked shy and small and uncertain, standing there in her simple white underwear and avoiding eye contact. Her hands twitched at her sides, as if she was stifling the urge to cover herself.
Her body was slender but muscular—wiry. She had enviable definition in her arms and legs, but mostly I was swooning over the hint of definition in her abs.
I reached out and traced them with my fingers and she jumped, which made them contract and stand out even more.
“Wow,” I murmured. “You must exercise a lot to have definition like this. You look amazing.”
Sharon blinked at me again. She seemed to be in disbelief that this was happening, or maybe disbelief that I genuinely liked how she looked.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her. “I’ve always thought so, and I think so even more now that I’ve seen what you’re hiding under all those boxy suits. You don’t have to hide from me. I like the way you look.”
Sharon licked her lips and straightened up a little. Then she took off her own bra and underwear, and I couldn’t help but notice that her underwear had a significant wet spot on it, and it stuck to her a little until she peeled it off.
“Are you wet for me, Sharon?”
She shivered and blushed again, looking away.
“I’m wet too. I love knowing that you want this as much as I do. You don’t need to be ashamed. It’s a beautiful, natural reaction of our bodies.”
A quick little smile peeked out and then fell away.
I ducked down and grabbed the packet of lube from my pants pocket so I could set it on the nightstand for when we needed it.
Sharon was still hovering uncertainly, so I went back to lead her to the bed, which had been made with military precision.
I grabbed her by the hand and walked backwards until I could untuck the covers and scoot in, inviting her in after me.
“You look a little lost,” I told her after we were situated, reaching out to trace my fingers across her collarbones. “Will you promise to tell me if you want to stop for any reason?”
She swallowed and nodded. Her pupils looked huge in the dim light.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I leaned in and kissed her.
Her lips were just as soft as I remembered. She gasped a little when I licked at her lower lip, and I took the opportunity to slip just a little way inside, teasing her tongue with mine until she invited me further in.
At some point I think I grabbed her around the waist to pull our naked bodies together, and we both sighed when we were fully aligned. This seemed to break some sort of invisible barrier, because she raised one leg over mine and tugged me even closer. I felt her hamstring flex with the movement, and I gripped behind her knee to pull her leg higher, over my hip.
She broke away from the kiss for a moment. “You’re so soft. You’re so—”
And then she tugged me into another, deeper kiss, and I wrapped my arms around her, desperate to get as close as I could, as close as she would let me.
She began to kiss more aggressively, nipping my lower lip with her teeth, using tugs of my short hair to tip my head so she could nibble and suck at my neck.
I arched into her, scratching my blunt nails down her back when she found the sensitive spot below my ear. She writhed and shivered against me, so I did it again, thrilled by her every reaction.
At some point in her squirming, she managed to scoot close enough that she was rubbing herself against my strap. I squirmed too, wishing I could feel that wetness directly on my skin, but even just knowing how worked up she was had me eager for more.
I slipped my hand down to cup her ass and pull her into me, encouraging her to get into a rhythm. She groaned into my neck and complied.
It felt like there was a small furnace between my legs. I was slick and swollen and so incredibly ready to make her come after months of dreaming and fantasizing.
“Are you ready for me to fuck you, baby? Do you want to ride me, or do you want me to be on top?”
Sharon shuddered. “Say it again.”
“Say what again, baby? That I want to fuck you?”
But that time I was paying closer attention, and I saw her eyelids flutter when I called her “baby.” I couldn’t help but grin a little. “Oh, I see. You like it when I call you baby? You like being my girl?”
That earned me a full-body shiver, a squirm, and a tiny, reluctant nod.
“Well answer my question then, baby. Do you want to ride me? Or do you want me on top tonight?”
She bit her lip. “I want you on top,” she whispered, after a moment. “Would you like that?”
“Can I eat you out first?” I asked, gently pushing at her shoulder until she got the picture and rolled onto her back.
Sharon hesitated.
Begging had worked last time. Begging and talking about how much I wanted her. “I’ve spent so many months wondering how you taste. Will you let me taste you, Sharon? Please?”
She shuddered, breath hitching as I rolled on top of her, holding myself up on my knees and elbows.
“I—” Her voice choked and died as I slid my left knee up to press against her crotch. I groaned when I felt how slick she was already. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Please, Sharon?”
She gasped, hips bucking, grinding against my leg. She was squirming now, rubbing against the strap, pressing her breasts into mine. She didn’t look like she wanted to say no—more like she couldn’t speak at all. But that wasn’t good enough. I wanted all that restraint completely gone. I wanted to see all the passion that I knew she was hiding underneath it.
“I’ve never gone down on anyone before,” I admitted. “You might have to guide me.”
Sharon moaned and shivered, clutching me tight enough that I was sure I would have nail imprints in my shoulders for a while. I allowed myself a mental pat on the back for guessing correctly that she would enjoy hearing that.
“I’ve never used a strap before either,” I continued, watching her face carefully. “I hope that’s okay.”
She stared up at me with wide, fathomless eyes. I honestly wasn’t sure if she was going to kiss me or shove me off or what. She seemed frozen in disbelief.
Then she lunged upwards, rolling me onto my back so quickly that I hit the bed with an audible thump and a whoosh of surprised breath.
She rolled with me, landing with her knees on either side of my hips, breathing hard.
The hesitance was finally gone. My fierce, possessive lover from the file room was back, and my entire body tingled in recognition of that look on her face.
“Katherine, you’ll be the death of me. You’re so—I’m going to eat you alive. I’m going to ruin you, just like you’ve ruined me. I want—”
And then she surged down, pressing her mouth to mine as she started grinding against the toy that was trapped between us.
I gasped against her lips, arching into her, seeking even more contact. It was shocking how much I loved being caged in by her body. Her hips were moving steadily now, pinning me down.
She pulled back for a moment to breathe, and I glanced down between our breasts, mesmerized by the sight of her wetness glistening on the underside of the toy that I had (foolishly, I thought at the time) bought with her in mind. Her muscular body flexed with every thrust, and I was a little delirious with the need to stare everywhere at once.
Then she bent down to kiss me again and my eyes slid shut as my attention sank into my body once more. I could feel myself dripping already, throbbing every time she moaned against my lips, every time her nipples scraped against mine, every time her hips jolted out of rhythm.
After a few minutes of this, she was almost unrecognizable—pale pink lipstick smeared, eyes wild, panting as she rocked on top of me. I could feel myself clenching as I gazed up at her with adoring eyes, scarcely able to believe that I was allowed to witness this.
“Sharon,” I said hoarsely, licking my lips. “You’re incredible. I—thank you for letting me see you like this. Will you let me make you come? I want to see you come for me.”
Sharon’s hips stilled for a moment. She sat up, blinking, and inadvertently gave me an incredible view of her glistening torso.
“I thought I could let you be on top,” she eventually said, almost contemplative. “Butches usually like that. But you just make me so—I want to devour you. I want to ride you into the mattress, until you have bruises on your hips. I don’t know how you do this to me. Lord help me, Katherine. I won’t survive you, but I can’t resist you either.”
She got up onto her feet in a squat, lining herself up as I reached down to hold the toy steady with trembling fingers. Then she lowered herself, slowly, and I watched it disappear inside her inch by inch. The look of agonized ecstasy on her face was almost unbearably hot.
It took her a minute or two to take the whole thing inside her, and I was nearly vibrating with the need to move by the time she finally came to rest on my hips. I groaned at the…the everything.
The way her abs flexed as she started to ride me. The way a little gasp punched out of her every time the toy hilted inside her. The way she was so wet I could hear obscene, slick noises with every stroke. The way she shivered as soon as I dared to put my hands on her hips and begin thrusting up into her. The way the base of the toy pressed into my crotch on every thrust—a maddening, blunt, indirect pressure that made me ache and burn and drip onto Sharon’s perfect white sheets.
I could even smell her, now, and my mouth was watering. There’d been need for lube after all—Sharon was dripping. The harness was getting a little wet too—I could see a few spots where the black leather gleamed in the dim lamplight.
“Fuck,” I said, “Sharon, you’re so hot. I could watch you for hours.”
Her hips jerked out of rhythm for a moment. “You really—” she said, then bit her lip.
“Yes,” I said immediately. “I really, really think you’re hot. I’ve been obsessed with you for years, Sharon. I don’t even remember the first time I tried to imagine what you looked like naked. That’s how long ago it was.”
Wide brown eyes stared down at me as her hips continued to rock gently back and forth.
“I never thought this moment would actually happen, but I was still thinking about you when I bought this harness and this toy. I haven’t slept with anyone else, because you’ve already ruined me. You’re all I think about.”
Susan gasped and quaked in my lap, falling forward and catching herself on her arms as she hovered above me. For several long moments, she was perfectly, frustratingly still. She just stayed there, staring searchingly down into my eyes, and I wished she wasn’t so good at hiding her emotions.
Then she jerked into motion again—faster, now. Fast and hard and jerky, beginning to lose her rhythm as she used me to fuck herself.
“Kate,” Sharon said. “I—Kate, you’re so—”
I gasped at the sound of my nickname from that beautiful, proper mouth. It was the first time she’d ever called me that, and it rang my whole body like a bell. My thighs clenched. My hands spasmed around her hips.
A sudden, desperate need pounded between my legs, slammed into my heart, lit up my brain.
Sharon’s eyes widened as she took in my extreme reaction. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
I quivered, waiting for the axe to fall.
“Kate,” she said softly, with a curious lilt.
“Oh fuck,” I said, and it escaped in a high, embarrassing whine as I felt my pussy clench around nothing.
My whole body shuddered with longing, goosebumps racing across my skin.
Sharon’s eyes flared so hot I could barely look at her, and yet I couldn’t seem to look away, either.
She sat upright and began to ride me again, but slower now. Sensual, showy. She rolled her hips so that her entire torso flexed as she moved.
“You like it when I say your name,” she said, trailing her manicured fingernails across my soft stomach and down my arms. “You’re shaking, Kate. Are you going to come, just from this?”
“N-no,” I stammered weakly, but my clit ached and pulsed every time she slid to the base of the toy.
“Don’t lie to me, Kate,” Sharon said, and she sounded stern, but her eyes lit with mischief, and she gave me a look I’d never seen before—a knowing little smirk.
It was devastatingly hot.
I shivered again, baring my neck helplessly as I gave up on pretending and just…hung on for the ride.
“I think you’re going to come just like this, Kate,” Sharon said. She sounded shockingly calm for a woman who was in the act of reaching between her legs to rub her own clit as she fucked herself on my strap.
Lightning struck me the second I saw her fingers make contact with her slick pussy.
I bucked and gasped, clutching her so tight she’d probably have bruises tomorrow.
“Oh Kate,” Sharon sighed, fingers rubbing fast, tight little circles between her legs. “Kate, you’re perfect, you’re so—” her breath hitched loudly “so fucking perfect, I want to watch you come again. Will you come for me? Come with me?”
That word again! Only the second time I’d ever heard her say it—Jesus, she had no right to light me on fire with every new sentence she spoke in that gorgeous, deep voice.
My nipples tingled every time she said my name—they were almost painfully hard now, completely untouched.
Lights were starting to flash before my eyes, pops of brilliance that made it hard to see her, but I blinked them away furiously. Nothing was going to stop me from watching Sharon come on top of me while touching herself.
And nothing was going to stop me from obeying her every order, either. I nodded at her eagerly as my eyes devoured the vision that was Sharon finally unleashed, fierce and passionate and commanding.
“Come for me, Kate.” Sharon’s fingers sped up, rubbing herself fast and a little sloppily. “Come now—fuck. Kate—Kate!”
I did. I came with her name on my lips and stars in my eyes and a sharp pang behind my ribs as she gasped “Kate, Kate, Kate,” like a mantra and rode me into oblivion.
After long, glorious moments, Sharon finally shuddered to a stop and slumped onto my chest, her breaths loud and rapid as she panted into my neck.
My arms wrapped around her back. I stroked a trembling hand through her hair as I stared at the ceiling.
Our rapid heartbeats echoed each other, only inches apart, thudding in perfect, painful synchrony.