Now I've got you in my space, I won't let go of you
Got you shackled in my embrace, I'm latching onto you
I'm so encaptured, got me wrapped up in your touch
Feel so enamored, hold me tight within your clutch
~"Latch" by Disclosure ft. Sam Smith
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She pushed inside Holly more intently, sneered in a way that felt like silhouettes in a doorway. Like monsters creeping out from under the bed. Sneered in a way that none of her past lovers would recognize or understand. Holly was bare-assed and stretched out with her sweater and bra tangled around her arms when Gail pulled back slightly to take in the sight. Gail had taken her shirt off a while ago, but was not about to change her position to remove anything else. She felt terrifying and powerful, looming over Holly, ready to rip open her chest and devour her. She imagined, briefly, Holly performing her own autopsy, assessing the damage Gail caused, and she felt a giddy flush crawl up her neck and settle on her cheeks. She smiled in spite of herself at the twisted way her mind worked sometimes and pressed in so deep and firm that she startled herself with the force of it.
"Sorry, I just...I just needed to." Gail's voice was soft but sounded loud in the quiet of the room.
"Don't be sorry," Holly was breathing hard and grinning, "and whatever you do...oh, god...don't stop." Holly's back came off the couch at that, and her chest rose up as she inhaled deeply. Gail felt her open up even more, leaning into the feeling of being filled up, the feeling of Gail taking her.
"Oh, fuck, you're good at this."
"I'm actually freaking great at this, thanks." Gail started to grin as well and she didn't wait for Holly to reply. Instead she curled in and around Holly, concentrating entirely on how it felt. The changes were so subtle and she didn't want to miss anything. Gail had discovered that she was freaking great at this. That if she were a country her national pastime would be making Holly Stewart come. That when they fucked there was nothing in the entire universe aside from the fixed point of energy - of love, Gail could admit in those moments - between them. It disoriented Gail in a way she hated and made her chest constrict until she couldn't stand it, but the moment her eyes met Holly's all that fear and insecurity melted away.
Finally someone who sees me, who 'gets' me. Who would share an urn with me. Finally, finally. Gail's thoughts were no less morbid and overwhelming as she pressed herself into the edge of the couch cushion. The ball of one foot on the floor giving her leverage and one hand gripping the arm of the sofa next to Holly's head, she groaned softly. She was wet and sticking to her underwear, the friction from the seam of her jeans and the heat coming off of Holly's body bringing her close to the edge already.
Or maybe it's just having her beneath you. Gail mused and sighed, mouth dropping open. She'd never been one to get there fast, but this thing with Holly was so electric and so fucking fun and so...grossly intimate that she couldn't help but get off on it.
"Oh, I like that. Yeah, move with me... just like that." Holly rolled her hips and the couch creaked. She looked straight at Gail, their faces a few inches apart. Her glasses were still on and a thin sheen of sweat had started to develop around her hairline. Gail couldn't look at her, it hurt too much, the blood rushing through her head was too deafening. She bowed her head and as it hit Holly's sternum, Gail thought that maybe this was her shadow self being revealed; that she could stay in this place forever; that she finally knew herself; that Holly's open expression and open legs had coaxed it out of her. She moaned into the side of Holly's tit and thought that maybe this desire, this darkness, this compulsion, was what she was hiding from herself all along.
Holly got rid of her sweater and bra with a swift tug and her hands found their way to the back of Gail's head. She pulled the hair at the base of the blonde's skull and when Gail's lips parted in a gasp, they closed over Holly's nipple. The two of them moved with definite purpose, Holly manhandling Gail a bit about the head and neck, grabbing her ass, and what started as a casual little make-out session on a shared day off had escalated rapidly to rough, dirty fucking on the living room couch. Gail felt the rumble in Holly's chest against her chin before she heard the actual words that came out of the brunette's mouth.
"You want to come inside me, don't you, Daddy," Holly said, playful and breathless. It was more defiant step-daughter than little-girl-lost, and though Holly had a decidedly adult grip on the back of her head, it almost knocked Gail right out of the moment. It almost caused her to pull out completely and run. If it hadn't also caused her stomach to flip and her cunt to throb she would have. She moved up slightly and just as she was about to ask the pathologist what the fuck kind of game she was playing at, Gail felt the smooth skin of Holly's inner thigh slide up her side. She paused and held her breath, held Holly's gaze. Forced herself to trust Holly's coy smile as she felt the curve of Holly's calf slowly creep up her arm, making its way to land on her shoulder.
"Oh, man. You're really messed up, you know that?" Gail tried to keep her expression even, keep her face still. Holly had sussed out her tell and Gail was not quite sure how she felt about it. It registered vaguely to Gail that she was 3 fingers deep and Holly still had her socks on, and fuck if she wasn't having the best time ever.
"Yeah, I'm totally messed up and you love it. Are you close? 'Cause I'm really fucking close." Holly whined slightly and tilted her hips impatiently, adjusting to the new angle. Gail turned her head and felt a little wild as kissed the inside of Holly's knee, she wanted to bite the flesh there too, but closed her eyes and took a deep breath instead. Jesus. She was so wet. And so in love. She nodded to herself and decided that she was totally down for this, whatever this twisted mind game sex thing they were doing actually was. She hitched Holly's leg further up her shoulder as she reached down and grabbed the back of Holly's neck, fingers threading tightly through dark hair. She pitched her voice slightly lower than usual, narrowed her eyes and said:
"You're really fucking close... what?"
"I'm really fucking close, Daddy," Holly said, laughing and moaning.
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Gail goes to get her coffee the next morning with slightly more exuberance than usual. She's proud of herself for not blushing while putting cream into it, and she manages to not smile like an idiot the entire way to her desk. When she puts it down after that first glorious sip, she allows herself a moment, just one, to revel in the memory of her weekend. Her eyes trace the blue hand painted letters on her beloved mug and she feels a wicked shock race through her system. She takes a picture of it with her phone, making sure "DAD" is in full view and sends it to Holly. The response is quick:
"Where'd you think I got the idea in the first place, you beautiful freak? Now go serve and protect. I'll see you tonight. :)"
Gail pockets her phone and smiles all damn day long.