Short bit of filth. Warning for a tiny bit of degrading language in a sexual setting, if you're really not into that.
"You have to be quiet. We'll get caught."
"I don't care - ah-"
"I care. You will keep quiet."
Quill nods in the darkness, the movement barely discernible. Dorothea, whose hand is currently up Quill's skirt, whose fingers are currently fucking Quill at an agonisingly slow pace, just smiles.
Dorothea curls her fingers and Quill moans a little, and Dorothea feels a flash of irritation because she really doesn't want to get caught having sex in a supply cupboard.
Out of patience, she silences Quill by sticking three of the fingers from her other hand into Quill's mouth, eliciting a tiny noise of surprise that is otherwise muffled. Dorothea waits to check that this won't be fought. Sure enough, after a moment of tensing up, Quill seems to accept it, her tongue almost absently licking at the fingers in her mouth.
Quill is so... easy. Somebody other than Dorothea would probably find that pathetic, but they're birds of a feather really. Both lonely, both living in a world with a set of morals that don't quite fit - not even with each other - both desperately in need of any physical contact they can get.
Dorothea nips at Quill's collarbone - exposed, thanks to her having unbuttoned the shirt and yanked it open almost immediately upon shutting the supply cupboard door. Meanwhile, Quill is wriggling against Dorothea's hand, trying to ride it to find extra friction.
"No," Dorothea says sharply, but Quill doesn't stop.
Dorothea withdraws one set of fingers, the other remaining in Quill's mouth, and Quill whines in protest.
"This is an exercise in patience, Quill, and I do expect you to learn it," Dorothea says, with a hint of annoyance. Like she isn't loving every second of having Quill at her mercy, when there's no feeling more satisfying. "You're the one the dragged me in here, after all."
Quill tries to say something, but it's too muffled by Dorothea's fingers. Dorothea smirks.
"You don't need to talk for this lesson. Just listening will be more than adequate. Now, you're going to let me go at whatever pace I wish, and you're going to stay quiet, or I'm going to leave you in here on your own, to sort yourself out."
It's a glorious image, Quill all rumpled and desperately trying to fuck herself in this cupboard, after being so worked up. But Quill wants contact, needs another person touching her to be in any way truly satisfied. So Quill's body slumps with defeat.
"I'll be good," she says, with resignation, after Dorothea withdraws her fingers enough to let her speak with coherence.
"Good girl," Dorothea murmurs, and feels a shiver run through Quill's body. It never ceases to be both amusing and heartbreaking that Quill has been made to feel so unworthy and awful that she now craves compliments, craves praise because she's never really had it before.
Again. Easy.
Dorothea's other hand finds its way back between Quill's legs, savours the wetness there, and two of her fingers take Quill roughly and without warning.
Quill moans again, and it's a good thing her mouth is full, or else they'd both be in serious trouble.
"You realise that if someone were to discover us," Dorothea says, voice quiet, "all they would see is you, blouse gaping, moaning, and pressing against me shamelessly because you're such a needy little slut. My reputation would change only to someone who fucks other women in supply closets. You, however-" She pauses to slip another finger inside Quill and start fucking her harder, making her moan. "The terrifying, hard Miss Quill will be known merely as the needy little thing who was practically begging to be fucked. Now, you don't want that, do you?"
Quill shakes her head.
"I thought not. So stay quiet."
That's how they stay, with one set of Dorothea's fingers fucking Quill to oblivion, while the other keep her from crying out too loudly.
When Quill finally comes, she comes hard. After her initial cry, Dorothea withdraws her fingers from Quill's mouth and kisses her firmly, feeling Quill shudder with relief.
After that, she makes Quill clean her other set of fingers with her mouth. Quill does it so obediently that Dorothea finds herself more aroused than she had thought physically possible.
They should leave. They've already been in here far too long.
"Good girl," Dorothea says, touching Quill's chin delicately. "Now, time to return the favour, and make it quick. On your knees."
Quill grins at her in the dim light as she drops to her knees and starts pushing Dorothea's snug skirt up her thighs. Dorothea strokes her hand over Quill's hair, making Quill reflexively lean into her hand, like a cat.
So easy.
Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!