Ava moves slowly, giving Jean every chance to stop her. But instead, Jean melts into her arms, tilting her face up for a languid kiss. Lets Ava steer her to the bed. When the backs of Ava’s thighs knock against the frame she sits down on the mattress, and Jean steps into the space between her legs.
One after the other Ava slides the straps of her sundress down Jean’s shoulders, and they fall into the dips of her elbows. The dress pools around Jeans hips, and Ava plants a trail of kisses above the curve of her bra, the silken brush of her curls sending a shudder through Jean.
Every sinew comes alive as Ava’s lips lock around Jean’s nipple, and she sucks the bud into her mouth, tongue darting over the tip until Jean’s mewling, back arched. Her grip on Ava’s shoulders loosens, and only a steadying hand against Jean’s back keeps her knees from buckling completely. Yearning hollows the pit of Jean’s belly. She wriggles out of her sundress. Straddles Ava’s thigh, rocking against bone and muscle, only the damp strip of silk separating them.
Their lips meet and Jean slides her tongue into Ava’s mouth, searching, hungry for more. Ava must share her appetite. She lifts Jean off her leg and onto the top end of the mattress – even in her passion, she’s careful not to jostle Jean’s wrist. And while Jean has never been one of those women who fantasises about being dainty and pliant in her lover’s arms, there’s no denying that Ava’s strength is hot.
Ava shucks off her shirt and cutoffs, climbing onto the bed in her tank top and boyshorts alone. The second she’s close enough Jean pulls her down, sandwiched between that lithe body and the mattress.
Their eyes meet – it could be a second, or an eternity – and Jean reaches up to tuck the curtain of curls behind Ava’s ear. Ava rolls, pulling Jean with her so that they both lie on their side, and Jean rests her injured wrist safe against the subtle curve of her hip. But as Ava’s hands rove, the ache of it recedes. There’s only the whisper of skin against skin, and the tantalising possibility of more.
Between the tangle of legs Ava cups Jean’s sex, tracing its contours through the silk. ‘I’m afraid I’ve ruined your good underwear.’
‘That’s half the fun of wearing silk.’ Jean smirks, rolling her hips. ‘Though I never knew it ’til now.’
Ava bites her lip, eyes dark as midnight. ‘You’re a dangerous woman, Jean Howard.’
Then her fingers hook around the hem of Jean’s panties, pulling them free so that she lies naked as the day she was born. Ava covers Jean with her own body, an arm wrapped tight around her shoulders. The other circles Jean’s areola until her breath is ragged, plucking and rolling the nipple between her fingers. It’s sweet torture. And when Jean can take it no more, she grips Ava’s hand, sliding it down her belly until Ava cups the cropped curls of her mound.
She parts to the touch, Ava’s caress velvet smooth. And it occurs to Jean that any residual shame she felt over her wetness has vanished, burned away by the heat of Ava’s desire. Ava revels in it, sliding about Jean’s entrance until she aches for more.
‘Don’t tease me.’ Jean bites her lip as Ava’s fingers probe and withdraw. ‘Please?’
‘Shhh.’ Ava pulls her close, pressing a kiss to Jean’s parted lips. ‘I’ve got you, Jellybean.’
Jean opens her mouth to object to the nickname, but it’s at that moment Ava’s fingertips make contact with her clit, one pressed on either side. And that gentle kneading is enough to drive all conscious thought from Jean’s mind. Just when it grows unbearable, Ava pulls away, dipping two fingers in and out of her entrance until Jean’s bones are liquid and she’s moaning without a care that her neighbours might hear through the wall.
Those throaty cries only egg Ava on. Her heel of her hand finds Jean’s clit, sure and relentless. Even as Jean bucks against her Ava maintains that excruciating rhythm, holding Jean on the precipice until she’s dizzy and breathless.
‘God, you feel so good. Every single time.’ Ava kisses her neck, her jaw, the fleshy lobe of Jean’s ear. ‘Your cunt drives me wild. The way you smell, the way you taste. That slick little noise when I fuck you. It’s everything.’
Even if Jean could think of a response to that, words are utterly beyond her. But Ava takes mercy, curling her fingers to press against Jean’s front wall. It’s an exquisite fullness, heightened by the steady pressure building against her clit – up and down, just the way Jean likes it. A sweet agony.
‘That’s it,’ Ava whispers. ‘Let go. I’ve got you.’
Then she’s coming hard, this riptide of an orgasm slamming into her. Tucked safe in the crook of Ava’s neck, Jean shudders and twitches, the tension ebbing from her limbs, pleasure flowing in its wake. All the while Ava strokes her back until she stills.
But before Jean can get her breath back, the hand between her legs stirs. The faintest stroking. Jean hums at this gentle post-coital pleasure. Ava leans down to kiss the tip of her nose, her mouth. She matches the glide of her fingers to the rhythm of their tongues. Languid and heady as spiced wine. And Jean finds herself on the cusp of another orgasm, one she hadn’t even been aware of chasing.
Ava swallows her surprised gasp – no matter how many times they do it, Jean finds fresh wonder in her body’s aptitude.
‘Good?’
Jean laughs. Surely the limpness of her body is answer enough. ‘What, do you want a performance review?’
‘Just making sure you’re satisfied.’
‘I am.’ Jean rolls onto her front. ‘But you’re not. Come here and let me feel you.’
‘Your wish is my command.’
Jean pulls the top over Ava’s head, eager as a schoolboy to explore what’s underneath. But at the strain on her wrist she gasps, sharper than the sounds she’d made in pleasure.
‘I could try with my left hand,’ Jean says, doubtful. ‘But it’s not very co-ordinated. Or I could use my tongue.’
Ava’s teeth sink into her swollen bottom lip. But she shakes her head, crushed curls bobbing. ‘Maybe another time, if you want to. But for now, I have another idea.’
Disappointment drops into the pit of Jean’s stomach, a stone sinking to the bottom of a pool. But there’s relief too, its brightness unmistakable. ‘What do you have in mind?’
