Spoilers: only vague reference to S3, though Author's Note #2 contains references to S4 finale.
General Warning: This story is about the pairing Alexis/Kate and is rated M for a very good reason.
Author's Note #1) This is another response to the Beckett/Castle kink meme, though admittedly, I've kinda twisted it slightly from what I assume was the original intent.
The prompt was: Kate takes Alexis out drinking for her 21st birthday and after a few drinks, Kate confesses she had some same sex encounters during college. Alexis asks Kate to show her how to please a woman.
Author's Note #2) This story assumes (for me at least) that things between Beckett and Castle don't work out. They remain friends and Castle still shadows Beckett. I set it two years out from the S4 finale when I believe Alexis would be turning 21 based on the series timeline. And because I can't remember any reference to when Alexis's birthday actually is, I'm imagining it in early summer (late May or June). I just feel the need to qualify this slightly because otherwise, my brain would be a little too… squicked out.
Yes, I completely feel the need to justify the fact that I wrote this. This is probably the longest section of author's notes I've ever included.
"Why don't we go out?"
She doesn't mean it the way I'd like to think she means it, but it gets my cheeks burning anyway. "My friends are taking me out on Saturday, you don't need—"
The detective shakes her head slightly and interrupts. "It doesn't have to be a full blown party, but today is your twenty-first birthday. It just doesn't seem right to spend the actual day by yourself in your dad's place. I'll take you out, treat you to a drink, maybe get someone to sing you happy birthday."
Kate smiles encouragingly, gesturing around the empty loft. With my dad off on a book tour, coming home from college had been strange, and while it feels a bit strange to be invited out by her, I had been disappointed to find that I'd be spending the night alone. I mean to answer her verbally, but my stomach's doing little flip-flops because she's touching me, her fingers brushing along my waist as she hooks her arm in mine. I must have nodded because she nearly has me out the door before I realize I'm not even wearing shoes. "Wait, I should really… get dressed."
She smiles and releases my arm, switching to wait against the doorframe, watching me climb the stairs. I wondered, as I traded my pajamas pants for a pair of jeans, when I was going to stop feeling like the little schoolgirl with the crush around Kate Beckett. Even the knowledge that she had likely been involved with my dad refused to dissuade the nervous blushing and distracting infatuation that I felt around the woman.
The crush is certainly nothing new, but since spending sometime with her over Christmas vacation, something decidedly more like attraction had begun to stir. She come to our New Years Eve party, still dressed for work in a pair of jeans and a pale blouse tucked under her leather jacket, and we'd ended up on the rooftop to avoid the vapid, over-dressed party-goers from my dad's publisher. We'd shared a big blanket and after a bit of champagne, she'd started swapping stories about her college days – most of hers making mine look incredibly tame in comparison. Her presence and warmth had washed over me, leaving me fairly hypnotized by her adventurous spirit and the way her wide smile left me wondering what it would be like to kiss her. With the lights of New York City scattering across her face, she seemed beautiful, almost magical, and my heart was beating like a trip hammer each time her gaze settled on my face and I felt all that beauty directed at me.
We stayed there until well after midnight to be sure to avoid the last few revelers and even though we were fairly shivering, I found myself reluctant to leave her. Her bravery and strength left me a bit in awe, and as we climbed back down the narrows stairs to the loft, I couldn't seem to squelch the nervous ache that was building inside of me. I lay in bed later, confused and aroused by thoughts of touching her. In the months since that night, the images had evolved past kisses and tentative touches to dreams of full-fledged encounters which left my body tingly and aching when I woke in the morning. I'd even gone as far as looking up porn and sex guides on lesbian sex to enhance my imagination.
And now, here I am. I'm letting her take me out for drinks on my birthday.
Scanning my room, I search for the right shoes. I hadn't brought much with me from my dorm room and most of what I kept here consisted of the flats and colored tennis shoes of my high school days. If I am going to go have my first alcoholic drink as an adult with Kate Beckett, I most definitely do not want to feel like a high schooler. It isn't a date and it's all in my head, but I still hate the idea of being seen as "just a kid" with her.
Finally, I settle on the black boots that set me a few inches taller and matched the leather jacket hanging on the back of the door. I check myself in the mirror, pausing to consider clipping back my hair, which hangs loosely around my shoulders. Growing out my bangs made it more troublesome, but as I swept it back in one hand in consideration, I found it looked too formal and tight, and let it swing back over my shoulders.
With that, I head back towards her. As I reach the top of the stairs, I find Kate is still waiting at the door, looking up as my boots begin to click down the stairs. Perhaps it's my imagination, but she seems surprised or at least aware that this is a different look and cocks her head slightly to the side as she asks, "Ready?"
"Sure," I responded, letting her open the door.
I let her pick the bar and am surprised to find us in a rather laid back place. There is live music – something bluesy with heavy percussion – and it is brighter than what I'd grown accustomed to. Mostly my friends and I ended up in dance clubs where the strobe lighting that synchronized to the beat was the only light to be found. We sit at a booth along the back wall and a blond waitress comes to take our order.
While I'm busy producing my ID, Kate orders us both beer and it all feels too much like a date. She's smiling at me, watching as I hand over my driver's license. Once I tuck it back into my wallet, she nudges my foot with the toe of her boot and asks, "So… how does it feel?"
It feels like a strange question, especially in light of the way her gaze is making me blush all over again. I hope that the relatively shadowy room will hide most of it and look around, trying to focus on something else. "I don't really feel any different. I always expect milestones will make me feel… magically transformed. But usually that happens later – it hits me when something happens that I'm never going to be that young again."
She laughs at this but bites back what I'm guessing is the urge to remind me that I am still young, as if she can sense how madly I want to avoid being the "kid" tonight. Instead, she turns to smile at the waitress, who has come up behind me, and hands over her credit card after the blond sets down two beers in front of us. "Tonight's gonna be on me," she says, half to me, half to the woman. "She's the birthday girl. Why don't you start us a tab?"
The blonde nods, accepts Kate's card and disappears once more.
"I'm guessing this won't be your first beer," she says to me, lifting her own and taking a quick swig.
I shake my head in acknowledgement. "But I still won't let myself get completely drunk. When we drink, it's usually some huge party with people everywhere and it just doesn't feel safe to let go like that, you know?"
This gets her smiling and sort of rolls her eyes and leans back, getting comfortable against the bench. "I wish I'd had your rational thinking at that age. Might have saved me a lot of heartache. Not to mention a few not-so-pretty mornings."
Tentatively, I take a sip from the beer she ordered for me, surprised to find it takes less like crap than the cheap stuff I'd grown used to gulping from red plastic cups, and take a few more sips. She starts up a round of small talk then, asking me about classes and friends and professors until we're ready for another round of drinks. She lets me order for both of us, and we end up with little glasses of rum with coke as the band on stage starts to pick up the volume. It's getting a bit more crowded and I'm already feeling a little fuzzy when Kate gestures for me to come join her on her side of the booth, my heart tipping along with the beat of the music because she's so close. I find myself leaning on my elbows against the table so I can watch her more closely.
"So have you been seeing anyone?" she asks me as she turns to lean against the wall, facing me in the booth, tucking her knees up in front of her. The question is casual and she's taking a gulp of her rum and coke as she awaits my answer. But I can feel my throat go dry because that nervous crush just toppled over into something else. Maybe it's the alcohol blurring all those reasons why I shouldn't be interested in the woman sitting in front of me or maybe it's something else, but what had been just heat is suddenly arousal. My heart is pounding in my ears and I can hear a corny voice in my head answering her – No, but I'd like to see you.
Somehow, I manage to not say it. It's such a terrible line. I even manage to not stare at her mouth as thoughts of kissing her against the wall race through my mind. But what comes out feels only slightly less stupid and I can't even meet her eye as I say, "No, but there's this woman…"
My voice breaks and I can't tell if she's surprised or just waiting for me to finish. I've got to be about fifty shades of beet red and I swallow my drink to fast, gulping it down and wishing that it didn't burn quite so harshly down my throat.
"Oh? Someone you met at school?" Kate's tone is even and when I manage to glance over at her, she gives me a reassuring smile as she puts a hand on my shoulder. It's all I can do to not just lean in closer, encourage her hand to go further.
Instead, to my horror, I hear myself beginning to babble nervously and I have no idea where I'm going with this.
"Not really. I've known her for a while, I guess. I just sort of started seeing her… differently. But I have no idea where to start. Or if I should start. It's not like I'm not okay with being attracted to a woman, but things have always been one way with us and now I have these feelings and I don't even know if she'd be interested. And even if she was, I don't know the first thing about… that. It shouldn't be that different, but it is and I just-"
My eyes are so focused on the table, I don't even see her motion for another round of drinks, but it arrives, more rum and coke, and it stops my rambling. Nervously, I take it and start sipping, hoping that it will be the proverbial liquid courage it's supposed to be as I turn to look at her.
She's listening patiently, head propped against her hand with her drink in her other hand, with one leg dropped down; the other folded between us. Her eyes flick away for only a moment and I can see her gathering her thoughts as she takes another heavy swallow. As looks down into her glass, those heavy lashes hooding her eyes, I think she might be blushing, but her cheeks are hidden by shadow and I feel myself respond with a new ache as she bites down on her lower lip. Bet she tastes good…
"Falling for a friend like that… it can be complicated. Especially another girl," she starts, lifting her gaze to mine. "But in a lot of ways, the beginning isn't all that different than guys." The implied admission is quiet, almost too soft to hear, but it emboldens me in a way I had never expected.
"So you've…" I ask, needing confirmation.
"Yeah, a few times when I was younger. Mostly it was experimentation, but I did date a girl I met when I was pre-law at Stanford for a while. A couple months," she replies shakily. I think her fingers are trembling a bit around her glass as she downs the rest of her drink in a few gulps. As she sets down her glass, she seems to drift off, eyes closing slightly.
She suddenly sits up then, turning to face the table and leans both elbows heavily on it. I watch her rake her curls back and I can't stop the hand that lifts up, comes to rest at her back, wanting to pull her back from where ever she's gone. The t-shirt she's wearing is thin and I can feel the warmth and tension of the muscles beneath. That immature little voice is back, singing-songing about touching Kate Beckett and I have to fight to tamp down the little ripple of excitement it gives me. While I've dated guys and even slept with two, it feels different with her - both the touch itself and the dynamic of it. It makes me nervous and I feel my fingers fluttering as I try to comfort her.
Even so, I can't seem to stop myself from curling my finger tips along her back, following the line of her spine, coming to rest between her shoulder blades as I feel her silky hair brushing against my skin. She draws in a breath then, turning to face me without sitting back.
"Do you still find yourself attracted to women?" I ask, trying to draw the conversation away from whatever memory seemed to have caught her so off guard.
She gave a little eye roll at this. "Definitely. It just hasn't gone beyond that with anyone lately. Just physical attraction, you know?" That too wide smile comes back and it unfurls a coiled tension in my chest that I hadn't even noticed was there.
After a moment, I nod in response before taking another drink. Tipsy and emboldened, I hear myself asking before I can censor it, "What about me? Could you be attracted to me?" Her eyes flash over to me in what looks like panic and I hurry to stammer out an explanation. "As a woman. I mean. I feel like women see other women differently and I just wondered if you think women would find me… attractive."
Relief floods her features as I stumble over myself. She ducks her head and then manages to give me a smile. "Trust me, you've got nothing to worry about." It's no where near what I want to hear, but it makes my stomach flutter with excitement anyway.
Neither do you, the voice answers as I drag my eyes over her. I'd do you.
I'm never more grateful that mind reading is little more than a science fiction myth than I am at that moment. Embarrassment and shock at the audacious voice in my head washed over me. Closing my eyes, I feel the room swirling, the alcohol clearly crawling through my veins and doing its thing.
"So what do you think you'll do?"
The question catches me off guard and my eyes pop open, seeking her quickly. I'm licking my lips, warning that voice to keep quiet as I try to remember what we'd been discussing.
"I don't know. Probably nothing. I don't want to ruin things with her. And besides," I answer vaguely, squashing the scenario of telling the truth to an eager and willing (if imaginary) Kate Beckett. "I'm not sure I'd know what to do... Physically, you know?"
"For what it's worth, I think you should give it a shot. It sounds like you really like her… You never know," she says, draining the droplets from her glass with a little toss of her head. "Maybe she's thinking the same things. Plus, the physical part? Not as tricky as it seems. I'm sure you'd be a natural." She's smirking. Smirking. It makes my chest tighten because, if she knew what I'd really been rambling about, that would have been an invitation. Never mind that she has no clue, it feels too good because in a way, she's considering me like that, the way I've been considering her for months and she's close enough that I can smell the soft, clean scent of her that is more fruity than flowery. I'm aching and too aware that I'm drunk and there's a wetness between my thighs that is growing increasingly uncomfortable as I shift against the wooden bench.
Kate seems to realize my need to change the subject, if nothing else, and sets aside her glass with a little smile. "Want to try some shots? I promise I'll keep an eye out for you if you get too tipsy."
I let out quick burst of laughter to cover up the blush and stifle that little voice that's leering, I'd like that.
"Sound's fun," comes out of me instead. I let her order shots of whiskey. They make my eyes water and my throat burn and it all goes straight to my head. She cheers me on and I find myself telling her all about the party my friends have planned for me on the weekend before recounting the embarrassing incident in which I'd accidentally walked in on my study partner having sex with her boyfriend on a lab table.
By the time I finish off the third shot, I'm having trouble sitting up straight and my libido is reveling in the fact that Kate Beckett is letting me lean my head against her shoulder. I may have been nuzzling her slightly, breathing in the scent of her. When I realize that I need to go to the bathroom, I try to sit up and end up swaying precariously.
"You got me drunk," I slur, turning to find her face too close. She's been doing shots too and her breath is heavy with whiskey as she smiles apologetically.
"Need to pee," I mutter and I'm too busy being embarrassed because I sound like a whiney twelve year old to notice, at first, that she's got an arm around my waist, helping me to my feet.
The heels on my boots prove complicated and I end up with an arm over her shoulder as we stumble towards the hall off the side of the stage. The hallway muffles the music and the people and is much darker than the rest of the bar and somewhere in my clouded mind, I know this wasn't such a good idea.
When I stumble, Kate ends up pressed against the walls, laughing as my hands fumble, seeking to find my balance and some distance from the enticing, soft jut of her breasts against my own. A gasp drags from Kate's lips as she tries to push off the wall and my hand ends up grasping her bicep. I stumble again and somehow my face is buried against her shoulder. My lips slide until they find the bare skin of her throat and I feel her fingers digging into my waist.
"Fuck," she moans and any thought of stopping is lost in the surge of heat that races through me at the sound of her. Then her hips are rocking against me and I can't help but wonder if maybe she knew what I had been rambling about earlier after all because she feels hot and eager. And then I'm kissing her.
Her mouth opens breathing hot, whiskey-drenched air into my mouth, letting me nip and suck at her lip until one of her hands drags upwards, fingers tangling into my hair and tightening until she can pull my head back, forcefully tilting my chin upward so she can leave a warm, wet trail along my throat with her mouth. Then, her thigh is wedging its way between my own and pressing up, so tight, and I can't seem to catch my breath.
She's the one pinned to the wall, but I seem to be helpless to do anything but melt into her touch. My face is buried in her hair as she clings to me, one hand roving my waist and the my back while the other lingers in my hair, turning me to grant her access to the next patch of skin she intends to set ablaze.
But just as quickly as it began, she's pulling back, hands dropping, back flat to the wall as she tries to meet my eye. "Wait… just…"
Breathless and flushed, she drops her gaze downward, biting down on her lip as she brings one hand back up to grip my shoulder, setting me back a few steps before pushing herself off the wall.
The hallway is whirling around me and I can feel my stomach clenching with what might just be too much alcohol, but feels like disappointment. Lifting my hand, I reach for the wall, stumbling back until I can feel it's cool presence supporting me. Opening my mouth, I try to say something, anything, but no sound comes out and she's just staring at the floor, her rasping, unsteady breath rushing in my head.
"We can't…" Kate mutters, breaking off quickly as she looks up and finds me staring back at her.
What I want to do is apologize. To explain myself. To back up and start over and somehow make the awful feeling that I've made a complete fool of myself go away. Instead, when my vocal chords finally decide to work, all I seem to be able to say is "Please." It comes out again and again as my hand finds her face, trying to draw her back.
She steps into my touch and mirrors my own gesture, her palm cupping my cheek and gently stroking back my hair. I'm surprised to realize that she looks mussed – lipstick smeared, her dark curls tussled and crumpled with a startled, almost wild look in her shadowed eyes. I did that to her and the realization has me dropping my hand down to her neck and tugging her back to me.
"I want…"
My words trail off because she gives in, lets me draw her close and kiss her once more. I feel insistent as I press my lips to hers. We're nearly the same height tonight and it feels like a strange angle for kissing, so I rise up on my toes and lean forward and bend myself over her, amazing myself with my newfound ability to draw a ragged groan from her lips.
When I pull away for a breath, she follows me, reuniting our lips for a brief kiss before pulling away completely. Her hand is on my wrist, pulling it away from her face so that she can drag me quickly into the bathroom.
She shuts the door behind us and leads me over to the sink, backing me against it until she has me trapped. "We've got to stop," she insists, her hands covering mine and stepping so close that our hips are pressed together.
"Why?"
My stupid question echoes in the small bathroom and she just sort of stares at me. Those hazel eyes are so bright in the harsh light of the bathroom and I can't believe how close she still is. With one hand, she rakes her hair back again and looks away, seeming shaky and confused as she worries her lip with her teeth. There are many answers to my question and neither of us seems interested in hearing them spoken out loud.
So she reforms her argument with exasperated sigh. "We can't do this here."
"Then let's leave. Please." The words are tumbling out of my brain so quickly I can't seem to stop them. "Just show me. Show me how to do this… I want you to show me."
I'm looking into her eyes and see her give, just a little. She almost nods and I slide my hands up past hers, following along her arms to her shoulders and tug her closer, my mouth seemingly intent on tasting her skin once more as drag my lips against her pulse. I wish it didn't all feel so hazy, but it can't be helped.
When a throaty and broken "okay" slips from her lips as her chin tilts back, I bite at her throat before she can step back. She grabs my wrists and stills me, meeting my eyes squarely before speaking. "Just, go use the restroom. Then we'll go."
With that, she turns and walks back out of the bathroom, leaving me alone. Somehow I manage to make it into the stall and then back out into the bar. She's leaning against the bar and signing off on her tab, with my leather jacket slung over one arm. Once she's done, she turns and spots me watching her and gives me a nod before heading for the door.
I have to hurry to catch up with her and I can feel myself adjusting to the disconcerting impairment to my spatial recognition skills, my knees feeling a little steadier above my heels. She's already hailing a cab at the curb as I step outside and dart after her, managing somehow not to stumble. As we slide into the cab, she takes my hand in her own and pulls me close as she instructs the driver to take us to her place.
Once we're moving, she refuses to release her grip on me, holding it hostage on her knee as we ride through the city. We've already gone nearly ten blocks before she speaks, turning to face me for the first time, "Do you have any actual questions?"
Her tone is serious, but I'm not sure how to respond. The cab driver is talking and from the corner of my eye I can see he's wearing a Bluetooth headset, but he's right there and any kind of question that I might ask, I'm not entirely sure I can do in front of him, even if it does feel like all the filters between my head and my mouth have been completely washed away by the flood of arousal and alcohol.
As if she can hear my concerns, she suddenly burst out into laughter and for the first time, I wonder if she's actually more drunk than I thought. The laughter lasts too long and is a bit too hard considering all I did was glance at the guy in the front seat. As it dies down, she releases my hand and moves her own to insinuate itself around my waist, hauling me more tightly against her than before. "This is such a bad idea," she mumbles as she tilts her head towards me, her lips brushing against my ear. Lightly sucking at my earlobe, she nudges my hair aside with her nose with little puffs of warm air that nearly tickle they're so light. "But you just kept giving me that look – like you wanted me to do you right there on the table…" As she pauses, the hand not wrapped around my waist finds my knee, then follows the inseam of my jeans upwards, her nails rasping against the rough fabric as she goes. When they reach the crotch of my jeans and she flattens her palm, pressing the length of it tightly against me, I let out a little hiss of pleasure as it makes my underwear slip against me.
"Shhh… just sit still and look straight ahead," she coaxes, her hand steadying against my center. I try, eyes focusing on the city lights going by as her mouth moves downward with short, soft kisses that quickly have me gasping for breath. I can smell her hair and whiskey filling the small space and I silently pray the driver is as engrossed in his conversation about baseball as he seems.
Her hand has started to move in a slow, rocking rhythm by the time we're near her place and I'm vaguely aware that I can smell my own wetness as she drags her fingers upward, then pulls away just as well pull up to the curb. I have to get out first and reach blindly for her hand, pulling her behind me in my eagerness, forcing her to pay the driver one handed.
Though I've only been to her place a few times, I basically remember the way and take the lead which makes her laugh. But she doesn't comment beyond that, just allows me to lead her by the hand to her door. I'm so on edge and can't seem to break our contact long enough to allow her to get out her keys. After a few attempts, she pulls away and then quickly manages to extract them from her pocket, letting us inside.
The worst of the spinning and swaying is over, the alcohol seeming to have moved on to simply leaving my limbs feeling overly-warm and tingly, but as we enter, something surges inside me that has me grabbing for her. I still can't quite believe she's agreed to this, that she wants this, and I need to make sure she doesn't have a chance to over-think the situation. My solution ends up being to press her back against the inside of her door, my hands making a grab for my jacket, which she still had draped over her arm, and tossing it aside to give me room to touch.
She seems amused at my haste, smiling against my cheek as my hands explore upwards from her waist. Her t-shirt bunches slightly as I drag my fingers upward, hesitating at the undersides of her breasts. Looking down at my hands cupping her sides at her ribcage, I can feel the soft weight of them against my thumbs and pause to watch the rise and fall of her chest before bringing my hands upward, palming each breast with one hand, feeling my thumb drag against her stiff nipples in surprise. Her reaction is quick – a shuddered gasp followed by a hand at the back of my neck, dragging my lips to her own.
Opening my mouth against hers, I feel breathless as she darts her tongue against my lip, sucking soft breaths from my lips as she angles her own lips to deepen the kiss. My thumb twitches against her nipple and then I'm closing my fingers around them, pinching carefully at first, but then a bit hard when it earns me a muffled moan.
A little strangled gasp escapes her as my fingers suddenly pinch far more roughly than I'd planned, and she rips her lips back from mine and I open my eyes to find the heat flaring at her cheekbones, pink and glowing against her eyes. "Fuck, you sure you need lessons?" she mumbles, my hands trembling as they grope more broadly, then press downward, curling around her to cup her ass. She feels so tightly wound against me, each touch creating a clear counter-action – her hips thrusting forward as I explore the toned lines of the backs of her thighs and then back up to her ass.
I'm not sure what to say, so I initiate another kiss, swallowing the sound as I take my turn exploring. Her hand in my hair keeps me close, while the other suddenly finds it's way to bare skin just under the hem of the back of my t-shirt. My moan breaks the kiss and I can't concentrate, letting my lips suck and drag their way along her jaw, then down the side of her neck. She clings tightly, hand pushing up my back as I dare bring my hand to the front of her jeans, pressing against the fly, then to the inner seam as she'd done to me in the cab. I mimic her motion, pressing against the seam until I can feel her hips rock against my touch.
Her hips push me back, away from the door and she takes the chance to guide me to her bedroom, getting behind me with a little swirl. She's flicking on lights and setting things down behind me, but still reaches past me to open the bedroom door once we're there. The overhead light snaps on and she's urging me towards the bed with a smile.
I can't find time to think of anything but her and the pounding, heated need that has my body tight and demanding more as she steps towards the bed, one hand hooked in the hem of my t-shirt. She sinks down on the edge and pulls me forward by the shirt until I'm standing between her legs. Her fingers sneak under the cotton and over my stomach, dragging back down to the waist of my jeans.
I have no idea what to do with my hands as I look down at her, wild brunette curls tickling me as her hands ruck up my t-shirt until it's crushed above my breasts, her mouth trailing from my navel then up until she's leaving these hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along the tops of my breasts. "Get this off," she says, indicating with one hand that she means my t-shirt, and I tug it off quickly, my hands settling lightly in her hair as her mouth lowers slightly, sucking and biting gently on my nipple through the cotton bra I'm wearing. Her hands slip around me then, unhooking my bra, then dragging it off quickly, bringing her mouth back against one nipple as she teases the other with her fingers.
I'm growing unsteady, my want distracting me from balance and I drop my hands to her shoulders. With a moan, I push her back, the teasing quickly getting to be too much. She smiles, seemingly knowing, and reaches for the fly of my jeans, unfastening them as I toe off my boots. My jeans are pushed down to my thighs, leaving me to remove them completely. Later, I might be embarrassed by the plain, basic white bra and panties I'm wearing, but she seems unconcerned with it, dragging the underwear down just as easily as my jeans.
But I can't be content to not see her and I find I'm dragging off her t-shirt, then her bra and then pressing her back against her bed. I've never gone this far with all the lights on before, even with a guy and it feels strange, to see her so clearly as she squirms out of her jeans. She's down to just a pair of dark blue underwear that's as basic cotton as my own and I am surprised to find just how arousing the scent of her is. It's obvious that she's just as I aroused as I am.
I knew that I was probably skipping a few steps, but my curiosity and desire got the best of me and I slid my hands along her thighs, still standing over her, to bring my fingers to her wet crotch. My fingers mold against the cotton, sliding back and forth until I can feel the harder, heated nub of her clit and I press tentatively, watching as she bites down on her lip as I give it slow, dragging touch. "Oh…" I mutter as I find it once more, rubbing a slow circle against it and cause her hips to rock upwards.
Her hands grip the sheets as I kneel down, drawing her underwear aside to look at her. I can see her muscles contract as my breath hits her, the musky scent of her swirling in my head. With one finger, I drag through the wetness of her folds, then bring the finger to my lips and feel her shift. She's half sitting up and watching me when I glance up, the finger still sucked slightly into my lips, tasting the saltiness of her. I can see the blotchy trail of flushed skin that's cover her and I almost don't recognize her like this, so clearly aroused and focused on me.
I want more and soon I'm dragging her underwear down, unhooking it from her ankles and bringing my hands back up to her hips so that I can kiss the silky soft skin of her thighs. Moving back towards her slit, I keep glancing up, seeing her watching me with darkened eyes, her hands bracing herself half-upright. As I reach her center once more, I hesitate, bringing my hands to help spread her, exposing her clit. With one more glance at her face, I bring my mouth to the raised nub, the tangy taste exploding against my mouth as I gently suck, listening to the rough grunt of anticipation that she makes. I try soft little nips with my teeth which make her hiss and writhe roughly, then open my lips against her completely, sucking and letting my tongue lap against her clit until I have to use my hands to steady her movements.
"Oh, god, Alexis…" she gasps, one of her hands suddenly tangling into my hair, drawing me rather forcefully up until our lips are touching, hers sucking and licking at mine, intent on tasting herself fully from my mouth. Then she's got her other hand around my waist and drags me down on the bed on top of her before rolling us over. Her hips come to rest against mine and she works on toned thigh between mine, letting it ride up against my slit with an urgency that surprises me.
And just that quickly, I'm losing track of everything. Her hand ends up between her thigh and my clit, her lips on my lips and jaw and throat as her other hand explores everywhere – my breasts, my stomach, my hips, eventually hitching one of my thighs up to wrap around her waist. She's grinding this rhythm against my clit that at first feels strange and then quickly sets me on fire. I can't scarcely breath as I try to tell her that I'm going to orgasm and she swallows the sounds with a kiss, her hand shifting to slide two fingers inside me, the heel of her wrist still grinding against my clit as her body keeps me pinned against the mattress. As I come, I'm gasping, "Oh…Kate," again and again, completely unaware of how my hands have been gripping and scraping along her back and her ass and any inch of skin that I can reach.
As the pulsing heat slowly subsides, I can feel her two fingers now back on my clit, still stroking with this light, gentle beat that sends twinges along my still over-sensitized skin. Her mouth is suckling soft kisses along my collarbone and I open my eyes to find her looking a bit surprised. My hands settle on her shoulder blades, caressing softly as she brings her mouth back to mine for a kiss.
I can't quite get up but I want to taste her again, want to bring her to make her head spin the way she'd done to me. And when she slowly withdraws her fingers and pulls her weight from on top of me, I shiver at the loss of her. Reaching out, I want her fingers and find them, bringing them to my mouth to taste the way she'd tasted from my lips. It feels strange to taste myself this way, mingled with the taste of her and with those big, hazel eyes watching me, but it feels heady and exciting and I suck one of her fingers fully into my mouth, letting my tongue lave over it. She seems to be settling in, drifting slowly and it stirs a mild sense of panic in me.
"I want to please you," I whisper, rolling onto my side to face her. Despite the relief the orgasm had brought me, I feel my heart starting to tighten once more as I reach out to pull her towards me, both of us scooting up to lie on our sides more completely on the bed. As we settle, I cup her face and lean in to kiss her lips lightly. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I really need to do this. I've always thought you were so amazing but for a few months now, I just can't seem to stop thinking about you like this and I know it's crazy and probably stupid, but I can't seem to stop and I just really…" my voice trails off as my lips find her jaw and she tilts her head to give me room. For a moment, I'm distracted, following the lines of her neck down to her shoulders, my hand drifting down to trail across the skin of her chest, lingering at the scars on her sternum and rib cage, faded and scarcely more than bumpy, pale marks.
As my fingertip trail down her stomach, she murmurs something unintelligible and I turn my eyes back to her in question.
"Please," she whimpers again, and suddenly I can see the need in her eyes that I had somehow missed. She's quivering and the light, trailing touch of my fingers has her stomach rippling under their wake. As my eyes move downward, she lifts one knee, parting her thighs to offer. Without another word, I move my hand down until it's slipping through the wet, slick skin there and I struggle to find her clit in how wet and warm she is. In a moment, her hand is on top of mine, molding my fingers to fold all but the first two down, and then she's guiding my fingers inside of her with a shaky grip. Her hot breath is so close as she gasps, "Fuck me, please…"
She's so slick inside and I start a slow, pumping rhythm, unable to tear my eyes away from the site of my fingers, sinking into her. I curl my fingertips, feeling the tightness of her and trying to settle my fingers against any surface that will create friction with so much wetness. As I drag against the walls of her, her hips buck in response, and soon find I can feel her tightening around me. When her hand comes to join mine, her fingers driving against her clit, I look up at to find her staring as I had been, at our hands between her legs.
Her shaky breaths get rougher, little pieces of syllables from my name and various forms of please and yes keep bubbling out of her as I try to match my speed with her fingers until she lets out a tight, heavy groan that clamps her thighs tight around our hands as she squints her eyes shut. I watch in amazement as her stomach and body tighten and then slowly relax with a series of twitching jerks and starts. Remembering her actions before, I keep my fingers inside of her, barely moving until she seems to return – eyes opening, her knee lifting slightly as she withdraws her hand.
I lick my fingers clean and smile at her, a strange sense of pride and excitement stirring in my stomach. She leans in and presses a kiss to my forehead, but then withdraws, rising from the bed. "Where are you going?"
"Lights," she replies, gesturing up at the ceiling before clicking off the light. The street lamps outside her window cast an orangey glow through the room, but it's much softer than the overhead and I watch as she moves around the room quietly for a moment, pausing at her bedside table to set an alarm clock.
Standing beside the bed, Kate puts her knee on the bed before gesturing towards the pillow and prompting, "Scoot up there."
I obey, my eyes still on her naked body, aware of her lack of modesty as she joins me. We settle against her pillows facing one another and on instinct, I put an arm over her waist, tucking the other under my head beneath the pillow. She sighs as I tug her closer and I can feel her heart still pounding in her chest against my breasts where they crush up against hers. A sort of heavy exhaustion is flooding me now and my eyes drift shut of their own volition.
Her body feels softer now against me, more pliable and I manage to tuck my cheek against her chest, feeling her breath stirring against my hair. As I drift off, I vaguely remember her hand against my cheek and her leg hitching over me, pulling out lower bodies closer. My last thoughts are of her, wondering if she's falling asleep too and skimming through overly-optimistic views of what I will find when I wake.
End note: At this point, this is a one shot because I don't know if I'll go on with it. We'll see.