"Fly with Me: a case of overactive imagination"
Fandom: Mitchie Torres/Mikayla Gomez
Author: letscall_l
Disclaimer: I do not own or mean to offend
Warning: nc17, suggestiveness and sex, imagination! play.
Word Count: 5674
Summary: "Good...I just wouldn't want to make you hard or anything."
a/n: This is a RPF on LJ but has been changed to suit restrictions on . Jonas Brothers are scripted characters on JONAS. Taylor Lautner and Samantha Droke mentioned in passing. Miley's last name is not used.
Her tee-shirt came to her knees. Sizes too big. Mitchie wondered when she bought it. Or whose it was before it was Mikayla's.
Mitchie could feel her elbows digging into the bed underneath her, but the strange discomfort was nothing compared to the far away eyes of Mikayla.
"I want to try something."
There wasn't much in her voice. The lack of her recent cockiness made Mitchie feel at ease, but the hint of desperation and hesitation put her back into disarray. But, whatever, it was Mikyala.
"Alright."
-----*****-----
If there was a point where Mitchie could honestly say it all started, it would be when she arrived for the post-Princess Protection Program Press and spent the night catching up with Mikayla.
Up until then it had been non-stop; South America, Madrid, Paris, London, with her boys. But as much as she loved them she was glad that she could rest. For a few days, in Toronto, with her insanely beautiful best friend and bring up random conversations.
Mitchie really needed to stop having random conversations, heck, she needed to stop having random and incriminating conversations, around Mikayla. At least then, a lot of drama and embarrassment would have been skipped.
Needless to say she would regret bringing it up.
Mikayla stopped unfolding her luggage to stare awkwardly at Mitchie. She met her friend's eyes, with some difficulty - not just because of what she'd said, but due to Mitchie lying upside down on their shared hotel bed.
"What?" She asked in a 'please-clarify-this-for-me' way.
"I'm being hypothetical." Mitchie sighed, flopping her arms over her head. Gravity pulled the limbs to brush against the ground. Mikayla raised her eyebrows and threw a shirt into a drawer.
"Really? Because you sounded real serious."
Mitchie doesn't understand why Mikayla is unpacking. They've got three days in the hotel, before Mitchie is shipped off on tour and Mikayla begins filming series three of Wizards back in California. Mitchie fondly thinks that her tour-logic is the reason she isn't unpacking.
"Well I am, in a hypothetical way." She pauses and bites her lip. Mikayla subtly avoids looking. "Haven't you ever thought about it?"
Its hard to read emotions upside down but Mitchie sees Mikayla frown in an 'don't-be-stupid' fashion.
"No."
"Really?" Mitchie presses. Its not the strangest thing to have ever been thought, of that she's sure.
Mikayla huffs and drops the skirt she was trying to straighten. Mitchie wasn't a big fan of the 'I-was-out-with-Taylor-when-I-bought-this' skirt anyway.
"I happen to like my body the way it is - thankyouverymuch." Mikayla rushes out. Her hands grace her hips barely before she notices that she's almost snapping at Mitchie's 'innocent' questioning. Mitchie can see why though. She can also see that Mikayla's skin is golden and her new haircut is wavy like the ocean currents. Gorgeous.
"I do too." She replied.
"Obviously." Mikayla smirked at the unintentional compliment from Mitchie; who rolled her eyes but stuck her tongue out at her friend.
"I meant me." Mitchie corrected even though Mikayla was right. She did like Mikayla's body. A lot. Sometimes too much.
"I want to know whats suddenly possessed you to think about what your life would be like if you were a boy." Mikayla states. She's picked up the skirt again and packs it neatly in a drawer before Mitchie answers her again.
"Not a boy." She stresses, Mikayla is missing the point.
"Fine. If you had a dick then." Mikayla drawls, her opinion one of confusion and sarcasm. As if having a gay-girl-best-friend wasn't enough.
Mitchie rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin into a palm.
"I don't think its weird to think about it." She voiced honestly. It was natural curiosity. It was also probably because spending so much time around the constant raging hormones - also known as the Jonas Brothers- had recently kicked Mitchie's mind back into the "she's-one-of-the-boys" mode. And if it wasn't that then it was having to share a tour bus with them while they toured Europe. If anyone asked, they weren't exactly quiet about 'it'.
"I think this is all a ploy to trick me into succumbing to your 'ways'." Mikayla jokingly emphasized.
"I could do that without a dick." Mitchie leered mischievously making sure Mikayla could feel her raking eyes trailing over her body. Like some sort of sexual predator. In response Mikayla jutted out a hip and struck a pose. Mitchie giggled. It was great having such an understanding friend, who wore really tight clothes...and shared a bed...with her gay BFF. It was great.
"Uh huh." Mikayla grinned playfully, obviously not believing her. Mitchie pretended to look overly interested in Mikayla's ass until the girl coughed.
"So if I was a guy, would you 'succumb to my ways'?" Mitchie quoted Mikayla's previous admission, surprised to see Mikayla's back straighten. Mitchie sat up on the bed while Mikayla held onto a long pause.
"I'm not at liberty to answer that."
Textbook interviewer avoidance. Disney 101~ Mitchie's jaw dropped. Mikayla saw her expression in the vanity mirror on top of the chest of drawers, and realized how "Alex-Russo-wants-a-Neverland-attorney" she sounded.
"You so would!" Mitchie exclaimed. Mikayla spun around to try and shut her up, but her face was fighting against a wide smile, despite embarrassment at her answer. Mitchie dodges Mikayla's expected tackle and jumps across their double bed, chanting 'You so would!' repeatedly.
Mikayla's sides were in stitches as she countered Mitchie's accusations.
"I'm not at liberty-"
"So would!"
"Mitchie!"
-----*****-----
Mitchie really wants to hear Mikayla admit it. Maybe because if Mikayla admits that she'd be attracted to Mitchie - as a guy- it would give a spark back. Not quite a hope - Mikayla is straight as a pencil, not the bendy kind-ness thwarts that; but a reassurance, That if she was, she would. Either way Mitchie sneaks out of their room at some ungodly hour and wakes up her cast mate, Samantha Droke, to hatch a plan. A marvelous plan.
A plan which involved a whole load of make-up, a lot of hair straightening, a tight corset and the expertise of their on-site Stylist. Who, Mitchie noted, wasn't too happy to be awoken at six by two over excited girls. And that was putting it mildly.
All the slaving had passed and Samantha gave her a yawning farewell as Mitchie headed to the staircase, still on her elevator avoiding kick.
For some reason she mentally assessed her appearance as she had seen in the hotel room mirror.
Mitchie's hands fly to her dirty blonde hair as she remembers. Its a very good wig. Underneath the messy crop of fakeness, lay Mitchie's long curls - straightened and pinned almost skin tight. Its a fascinating feel, the shortness of the wig, under her fingers. The wig does wonders to accentuate the rest of her ensemble. Mitchie is in baggy jeans that she accidentally packed, they hadn't been worn since she was fourteen but they still slouched perfectly.
The real trouble of her transformation came when Mitchie expressed her need for chest bindings. Not only had the Stylist scowled and had to rummage through her supplies for something similar; Mitchie had found herself having to strip off in front of Samantha - who had also had to help the Stylist bind her breasts. Everyone was close to fainting from the amount of blushing going around. Mitchie was now close to fainting from the lack of air caused by wearing the chest bindings. Taking them off A.S.A.P was priority after her plan.
The stairs opened onto the lobby and Mitchie slipped into the open, checking her 'boyish' appearance in a nearby mirror.
The breakfast hall was open. Through the double doors Mitchie could see Mikayla hovering around the buffet. A perfect chance. Subconsciously she ran a hand through her blonde hair/wig and reveled in her disguise. A perfect chance.
She made sure she didn't approach Mikayla until after the girl had put down anything that could drop and potentially break. Because she was considerate when it came to things like that. Luckily.
However it still took two minutes of Mikayla thinking that Mitchie was an unusually shy 'male' fan wanting a picture before the girl actually found her out.
"Oh My God!" Mikayla shrieks through gritted teeth. Mitchie has her hands on her shoulders from trying to get her to realize.
"Shhh." She quietens. Most of the late breakfast-ers who had noticed their mild confrontation had returned to their food. Mikayla's eyes are bouncing in her head as she tries to take in her best friend's new appearance. Blonde hair, defined cheeks, flat chest, baggy jeans; all deceptive mannerisms. Mitchie is ecstatic that she actually fell for it. Her grin rapidly brings Mikayla around, it may not look like Mitchie but she could still act like it was.
"What in the world Mitchie?!" She whispers agitated at Mitchiei's trick. The girl can see her change of appearance is throwing Mikayla's perception.
"Where did you get all of this?" Mikayla puts her hand to the side of Mitchie's wig, almost tugging it off, until Mitchie stops her.
"Princess Protection Program props?" She offers bashfully. Mikayla prods at her skull before pulling her cross-dressing BFF outside the breakfast hall. By instinct they each check for any wandering camera happy people, before returning to their talk.
"Are you doing this because I didn't take you seriously yesterday? I didn't think you meant any of it." Mikayla sincerely contributed, generally thinking that she had hurt Mitchie's feelings. The girl-in-disguise had felt slightly shunned but not by Mikayla, just by her dismissal.
"No, this is because for a split second you were serious and I wanted to see what it would be like. If I was your best friend..." Mitchie boldly steps closer to Mikayla, face to face, making sure the girl could smell the spray that Samantha had doused her in - to make all of Mikayla's senses believe she was a guy.
"...who was a boy." Mitchiewhispers to Mikayla's closed but contemplative, eyes.
"Really?" She asks still not looking. Just taking in Mitchie's presence. Mitchie touches her hand tentatively.
"Really." She confirms.
Mikayla's eyes flickered open to reveal an inner decision. Something Mitchie found unable to tear away from, but unable to read. Mikayla smirked squeezing Mitchie's clammy hand. Such a 'guy'.
"So its not because you wanted me to admit that I'd fall in love with you if you were a boy?"
Mitchie felt the small skin contact they held intensify as Mikayla unravelled her intention effortlessly. Typically.
"Would you?" She dove in with her question.
Mikayla takes a second. Mitchie can feel her look mapping out her face once again before Mikayla leaned in, towards her left ear.
"Two can play at this game."
Whatever game had begun between them was a mystery. But Mitchie figured that she was two points ahead; one for surprising her with her cross-dressing and two for the fact paparazzi had a winning shot of Mikayla touching her hair on oceanup by 11 o'clock, dubbing her 'Mikayla's new prince'. Oh yeah, she was winning.
----*****----
Despite her success of the couple-y pictures that had circulated the internet faster than Miley's VF scandal, which had made Mikayla blush furiously and curse at her for, Mitchie was left with Mikayla's mysterious declaration of a 'game'. She was also left without her boy disguise as the prop handler for PPP had discovered her 'borrowing' and demanded that all of the equipment be returned. It had served its purpose for the most part, she had challenged Mikayla's perception of her and gotten a rise out of the usually collected girl. Apart from the itchiness the wig left, all was good.
However getting a rise out of Mikayla may not have been the most wonderful thing she'd ever decided to do.
Disney had decided that they wanted more promos for the "Send it on" campaign. Within hours Mitchie found their once empty hotel had been booked full of cast members from Hannah Montana to Suite Life. And her boys were back. Looking tired but ready for action as always.
They wanted group shots, singles, pairs, which meant standing next to Mikayla as the girl was still grumbling at her. Miley wandered past a couple of times, which was a surprise to everyone as she was taking time of "The Last Song", but not a surprise because it was the perfect cover to spend some more time with her jet-ski buddy.
After Mitchie had finished she was cornered and swept away by Joe, who called an impromptu lunch after the majority of the shoots had finished. The gathering was obviously selective to the unconscious Disney elite, or those seen as Disney royalty. Which meant Joe and Kevin stifling grins at Nick's subtle 'reconnecting' with Miley, who between pauses of their conversation, looked goofily at Mitchie. Her face was lit up in happiness as she bonded with the youngest Jonas. They all huddled around a metal table, taking up all the available chairs in the area. It was a disaster in waiting for when Mikayla strolled over to the group, and there wasn't a chair in sight.
"Damn, do you want me to go get one hun'? Nick and I could..." Miley offered striking an immediate friendly line to Mikayla, which she had been doing more of, whilst also reeling her ex-boyfriend in closer. Mitchie rolled her eyes. Mikayla smiled and waved off the suggestion kindly.
"Nah its cool, Mitchie doesn't mind."
Wait, Mitchie doesn't mind what?
The others didn't overly observe Mikayla's entrance as she took her seat on Mitchie's lap. The WOWP star shuffled and spoke loud enough for the people around them to hear her;
"Is this alright for you?"
Mitchie hid her blush as much as possible under her bangs. Mikayla's fingers poked at her thighs almost to emphasize that she was sitting on Mitchie, then she wiggled to get more comfortable.
"um, yeah, fine." Mitchie spluttered. Mikayla gave her a subdued grin, knowing that whenever she did things like that Mitchiebecame a bubble of blushing, she reached around her neck. Miley is too wrapped up in Nick, heck, everyone is too wrapped up in Nick to notice Mikayla lean extra close to Mitchie's ear, like before. Breathing tickles against her neck.
"Good." She stated with a secret smirk. "I wouldn't want to make you hard or anything."
If Mitchie couldn't breath with chest bindings on there was no way she was going to live through the next few minutes of Mikayla sitting on her lap. Mikayla's lips brush against her cheek innocently, disregarding her usual friendly boundaries, as if she hadn't insinuated anything. All Mitchie can think about is that this was a game, this was because of her conversation. Her freaking curious boy conversation that Mikayla is now teasing her because of. Teasing. Teasing. Mikayla, as if working off Mitchie's growing embarrassment, squirms again. She bites her lip in her direction and looks down at Mitchie's lap. Pretending - to feel. It takes everything she had not to ask Mikayla to find a chair, because the girl...she made her imagine it.
The heat would be obstructed by the visions in Mitchie's mind. Of what Mikayla would have thought if she'd sat on Mitchie- if Mitchiewas a boy. What she would have felt.
Of course it was only the beginning.
x x x
She's staring in absolute horror at the crotch of her jeans. There's nothing new down there - but it doesn't stop Mitchieonce again wishing a) she'd never brought up her random and incriminating conversation and b) Mikayla would stop this game that kept reminding her of her now public 'fantasy'.
Like now.
Mitchie's head rose slowly in shock to see her guilty best friend in front of her. The cup was in her hand. There was no freakin way that it was an accident. The ice cream was still dripping out of the bowl and onto the carpeted floor, although the majority of the sickly sweet treat was splattered over the front of Mitchie's hips, and below.
Mikayla's got a suspicious glint in her eye.
"I am so sorry-" Mitchie knows she's not, by the way Mikayla's eyes are fixed between her face and her crotch, and because she's laughing as she stares at her 'mess'.
Distress hits Mitchie as she reverts to the reason she had changed into her jeans.
"Mikayla! They want me for promos, like now!" Mitchie screeches to her dismay. She can't help being a bit of a diva when Mikayla is pushing her buttons with her ongoing game.
"Mitchie don't move." Mikayla tries to calmly state. She can't though. They wanted her five minutes ago and she already had to raid her clothes for jeans that hadn't been concert-broken in. These were the only pair left.
"What? I've got to go and change!"
Mikayla shook her head quickly.
"No, no seriously - it comes out!" She tried to distracted the fluttering Camp Rock star.
"No it doesn't-!" Mitchie got that far.
No it doesn't. But Mikayla's already flattened her against the corridor wall and dropped to her levi-jean clad knees directly in front of her. Her highlighted bob and low cut top are the new main features of Mitchie's downward view. She feels like her head is about to explode. Mikayla is so close. Mitchie can't suppress the shock of arousal as Mikayla, with magically appearing paper towels that only prove her guilt more, painfully dabs at the gloop of ice cream Mitchie is wearing.
Her motions are too gentle, feather light, too deliberate and despite the 'accident' Mikayla looked more smug than sorry. Mitchie can't process it until later; when Mikayla isn't on her knees, her heels poking from under her body, touching her, and once again stimulating some sort of gratifying blow job innuendo. Mitchiei shudders. Mikayla feels it, and misses a spot.
"See? I told you it'd come off." The paper towel is suddenly nowhere near its destination. And then Mitchie feels Mikayla's wet tongue pressing through her jeans, removing the last of the dessert. She wants to die.
x x x
Mitchie takes that back. Now, she wants to die. Their all gone. From every drawer. Every towel. Every piece of clothing she brought with her. Except...
Mitchie drags them on angrily trying to ignore how her shower-shining-wet body is going to soak through the material. She makes sure her arms are wrapped tightly and covering all around her naked chest and kicks open their shared hotel bathroom door.
"Mikayla!"
"Yeah?" Comes a bored answer. She must have done it. Mikayla is draped across the bed, a magazine untouched as she takes in the view Mitchie presents.
"Where the hell are my clothes?" Mitchie is slowly going insane because of this game. She can't tell if its more because she's never felt so humiliated or teased so much by Mikayla or whether because her curious conversation about wondering what it would be like to have a dick has turned into some sort of foreplay for Mikayla.
"I sent them to be washed." Mikayla replies, looking genuinely helpful.
"I kind of need them." Mitchie snips impatiently. Her clothes were clean.
She does need them. She really does. Because no matter how much she loves Mikayla or how much she'd thought about being a guy; she really didn't want to stay in a hotel room, slightly sexually frustrated, with her best friend, wearing nothing but a pair of white, mens, Calvin Klein, boxers. No matter how good they felt.
Mikayla openly gapes over her exposure, making Mitchie's arms try to cover her wet chest more throughly. The lights from the lamps in the room are shimmering off her moist skin like she's walked out of the Twilight series. And no matter how much she likes the books, its pissing her off.
"Aww, but they suit you so well." Mikayla admires, still making Mitchie hyper aware of her state of undress and her dripping hair sticking to her skin.
Mitchie hovers near to the closet wall, desperately wanting to hid from Mikayla's wandering eyes. Its not like her. Mikayla isn't like her.
"Listen, I think this whole game has gotten way out of hand." Mitchie reasons, because frankly being teased for being 'hard' , followed by getting literally teased in a corridor and then being openly teased and pervved at has left Mitchie aching against her own will.
She'd expected Mikayla to be understanding, or better freaked at Mitchie's thoughts. But instead it had somehow gone from confusion, to joking, to curious to actively trying to make Mitchie feel as if she was some guy that Mikayla was chasing, and if she was the owner of new downstairs BOY equipment.
Mitchie didn't know what to wait for. Mikayla pushed her magazine to the side, exposing a random pair of socks, maybe the last piece of Mitchie's clothing.
"No it hasn't."
Mitchie is entranced by the way Mikayla holds her gaze, locking her muscles in a blink, she can't move. Frozen as Mikayla stalks closer. Her body heat hits her cooling wet skin briefly before a chill and pressure follows. Mikayla's shoulders are bare.
It takes milliseconds for Mitchie to realize the chill was movement of material and the pressure is Mikayla's groping hand cupping the socks she'd stuffed into the boxers. Groping at her fake bulge. She palms it hard enough for Mitchie to unintentionally gasp. Her hands can't move from her chest, so she lets Mikayla taunt her state of undress and helplessness with her actions. Mitchie can feel it pressing against her hips. The boxers keep it in place against Mikayla's hand. Mitchie thinks her face can't get any redder until Mikayla stops.
"Now it has."
----****----
Mitchie had found her clothes by the time Mikayla had gone to get changed. It looked like she would be sleeping in jeans though. There was no noise from the bathroom until the door clicked open.
Her tee-shirt came to her knees. Sizes too big. Mitchie wondered when she bought it. Or whose it was before it was Mikayla's.
Mitchie could feel her elbows digging into the bed underneath her, but the strange discomfort was nothing compared to the far away eyes of Mikayla.
"I want to try something."
There wasn't much in her voice. The lack of her recent cockiness made Mitchie feel at ease, but the hint of desperation and hesitation put her back into disarray. But, whatever, it was Mikayla.
"Alright."
Mikayla's bare feet padded towards her. Mitchie's eyes were failing to look away from her smooth legs. The shirt grazed against her thighs to a nonexistent air. It felt like they were both holding their breath.
Mitchie soon was when Mikayla gracefully sat next to her on their bed. Her legs dangled off the edge. Mitchie wanted to prop herself up to ask what was wrong. But she didn't.
Mikayla's hand brushed her bangs aside tenderly, making Mitchie wonder if the 'game' was finally over. It moved from her hair to paint a line down her trembling jaw, to her straining neck - lower. Mitchie quaked as her straight best friend applied a meaningful pressure on her chest. She was certain Mikayla could feel the material of her bra from underneath her shirt, and wondered what the hell was going on. Mikayla palmed her breast seeking, her eyes flashed as Mitchie let out a quiet gasp. Why was Mikayla doing this?Mitchie felt the hand slip to roam the bare skin of her stomach and its then she wants Mikayla to stop playing.
"Mikayla, what are you-?" She hurriedly confronts. It wasn't the way. The game. Mikayla doesn't pause in her journey. The next time they lock eyes Mikayla has undone the front of her jeans, leaving Mitchie with a wicked grin.
"Your still wearing them." She teases. Mitchie doesn't look away from Mikayla's face. She knows what the girl is talking about. Mitchie still has the white CK's on. By choice. Her face burns as Mikayla gains yet another point in their 'game'.
"I was thinking."
Mitchie doesn't know how Mikayla can be thinking. Or maybe its only her mind blanking as Mikayla tugs at her denim jeans, lifting her hips to slip them down her thighs. Mikayla's hands grab at her ass as she does so. Mitchie jerks her hips to her shame. The Latina's fingertips run over the thick waistline of the CK's almost naturally. Mitchie's heart beats out of time.
"Just because you don't have a dick..." In a quick movement Mikayla snaps the waist elastic of the underwear against Mitchie's pelvis bone. Mitchie groans.
"...it doesn't mean its not there."
Mikayla isn't making sense. How can something that she wasn't born with be there?
"What? Mickey-" Mitchie murmurs because Mikayla has risen up onto her knees and is leaning over her. Not quite fully. But she looked intently in her eyes.
"Use your imagination Mitch." Her voice drops into an unknown territory. The type reserved for eighteen + movies and lyrics that will never make it onto one of her CDs.
"Mikay-la." Mitchie stutters as Mikayla seems to bend down closer to her stomach. Mitchie tries to look anywhere but at her friend's hungry eyes. The view of Mikayla's lower body raised in the air sends another shock to her abdomen. What was she imagining again?
"Show me." Mikayla encases one of her hands, dragging it to her waistline. Mitchie can't help but feel ridiculous, even if the situation is making her hotter than she can remember. Show me. Its a mocking request. Mikayla knows there is nothing there that she doesn't have herself. Still, Mitchie's hand curls into a fist under the boxers, stretching the material, closely reaching to Mikayla's face. The girl would have been right before. She was hard for Mikayla.
Mitchie starts to pull down the CK's only for Mikayla to take over, slowly caressing the tight material over her fist.
"Where?" Mikayla whispers when the boxers rest with her jeans, around her knees. Feeling the stray clothes tangles still on her skin make her feel like she's doing something dirty. Like she's being taken advantage of.
Mikayla's eyes are no stranger anymore as Mitchie's center is exposed. Her hands come up to touch Mitchie's. Together Mikayla makes a circular grip in the air. Drawing their hands upwards. Mitchie whimpers as Mikayla does it. The girl is imagining, using their hands to make an imaginary manhood. Mitchie whimpers once more as Mikayla suddenly lurches forward to take one of Mitchie's fingers, that are so close to her heat, into her mouth. Sucking the digit whilst her eyes flutter tauntingly. Mitchie has barely recovered when the mouth is floating by her ear, whispering words that make her body ache;
"Oh Mitchie, I never knew you were so well endowed." Mikayla huskily remarks, one hand still touches the 'tip' of Mitchie's finger.
"Neither did I." Mitchie stutters at Mikayla's proximity. The room burns.
Mikayla whispers in her ear again. Almost as if she kept the intimacy of their actions between them through their close and quiet words, and blocked the reality of the imagination out. Because Mitchie didn't have a dick and Mikayla wanted to tell her she did. In all contexts.
"I want you inside." Mikayla's hand pinches at Mitchie's straightened fingers, then loosely rubbed down them. Building up. Pumping up.
"Mikayla I don't-" Mitchie doesn't want to break whatever spell is going on, because its no secret that she's wanted Mikayla for years, but there is no way the power of imagination was going to make her be inside of Mikayla.
"You do." Mikayla's controlled words come.
Mitchie is speechless. Mikayla clasps Mitchie's hands together, smirking as she strokes her extended fingers up.
The hem of Mikayla's oversized shirt bruises its trail up. Mitchie can't comprehend the sight of Mikayla wearing absolutely nothing underneath. The shirt bunches at the girl's small hips and soon she's straddling over Mitchie, her skin lightly brushing on the girl's fingers. Her eyes scream at Mitchie to imagine.
"Oh God."
"You do." Mikayla touches her face and guides Mitchie's fingers. Piercing herself onto Mitchie. Mikayla groans as Mitchie 'enters' her. Gravity pushes her down, leaving a flexing tension. An elastic band begging to be snapped.
Mitchie's chest rapidly rises up and down at the breathtaking sight of her half naked best friend, plunging her fingers inside of her. Like she was a guy. Like she was a fucking guy.
Mikayla is tight and warm, and Mitchie feels a throb in her own center, achingly desperately. She can feel her jeans press against her knees in a delightful and filthy friction. Mikayla gasps as Mitchie bucks upwards without realizing.
"Oh fuck."
Mitchie feels it. She can imagine, as she experimentally bucks her hips again; imagine Mikayla really taking her inside, imagine grabbing onto her ass to keep her moving along her length, her center massaging a heat and fulfilling a need that she doesn't need to imagine. Because she has it.
"Your in...I can- fuck." Mikayla squeaks as Mitchie uses her strong lower body to pump up, into, Mikayla. The weight and rhythm are heavenly as Mikayla makes little frustrated noises everytime she hits Mitchie's hips- everytime she drives in deeper.
"Shit, shit, oh God." Mitchie mutters.
She feels a power in this imagination. A dominance as she watches Mikayla roll above her and on her. Mitchie's fingers can't crumble inside her. The warmth is spilling down as Mikayla grows wetter. She did that. She's doing that. Their hips collide second after second, Mitchie can finally feed on the friction hitting her own clit as Mikayla slides up and down her frantically. Her nimble fingers dig into Mitchie's hips for more support. Her leaning support works better as Mitchie bucks harder, faster, with more intent- to see Mikayla's eyes squeeze in unbridled pleasure; because of her.
Mikayla's mouth opens and closes with uneven breathing. She's close. So naturally Mitchie stops.
Mikayla looks like she wants to scream and collapse on her at the same time. Mitchie is so far inside the girl that she can feel the beating pulse of her desire.
"You were right." At this point, Mitchie can tell Mikayla is willing to do or say anything for Mitchie to continue 'fucking' her.
"What?" Mitchie grins, sweat is breaking on her brow and even though most of her clothes are peeling off her, she wants to take them all off. Mikayla through half closed eyes, whispers again;
"I would fall in love with you if you were a guy."
The game comes slamming back. Mikayla triumphantly towers on her and Mitchie has never felt more used in her life. She feels Mikayla's hips jerk. She knows is would be different if she was a guy. But she's not. She's not and from what they've been doing for the past half an hour she doesn't need to be. Because right now its Mitchie's fingers inside her, getting her off, making her come, producing those moans. And thats why Mitchie has the upper hand...or two.
Mikayla's shocked scream dies in her throat as demi somehow maneuvers four fingers inside of her. Mikayla's entrance shudders on impact but Mitchie is far past caring if she hurts Mikayla. This would be what Mikayla would feel if she was with a guy. There wouldn't be any levels of pleasure optional. It would be whatever equipment she was presented to work with.
Mikayla's moans are more frequent and Mitchie's thrusts are more powerful, her knees don't give way until Mikayla's wetness is mixing with her own, her fingers are numb and raw, and Mikayla's forehead makes its way to limply rest on hers. She feels so much humiliation at Mikayla's manipulation of her body - but it wants to evaporate at the sight of Mikayla panting against her cheek.
"Thats if..." Mikayla picks up her sentence, shakily aware of Mitchies hard fingers still inside her. "...if I wasn't already in love with you as a girl." She stammered honestly.
Mitchie can't believe her ears anymore than she can feel her hands.
Mikayla takes her face between her palms. Their eyes speak faster than their mouths could. It wasn't a game. It wasn't a game at all. Mitchie uttered into Mikayla's cheek.
"You haven't even kissed me."
Mikayla rubbed her face against Mitchie's lips reveling in the feel of Mitchie's words. The girl watched as Mikayla pressed herself harder, once again, onto Mitchie's erect fingers.
"Mitchie, as long as you keep moving your fucking gorgeous hips into mine for as long as I live, I will kiss you anywhere."
Mitchie couldn't say no to that.