Being a relative virgin to fanfiction, I wrote this shortly after I started following SoN which was a few weeks after the first season ended with that long awaited kiss. So I thought I should get my fingers wet...no pun intended...or maybe it was.
Ashley leans her behind against the headrest of her couch and Spencer presses all of her weight into her. The softness of their breasts press into each other. Their stomachs touch but they don't notice because it is the sensation below that beacons their attention.
And Ashley knows this feeling all too well; the wetness, the agitation, the flutter. She so longs to capture the feeling that she had the first time she was with a girl: full, desired, desirable, wanted, loved, taken, noticed. The anticipation of coming so hard, emitting a release so violent that it keeps her satiated until her next encounter; a momentary excursion to euphoria, lost in feelings of nothingness: no hurt, no loneliness, no loss, no abandonment, nothing.
But Ashley has been making bad choices lately, choosing girls who relish the idea of conquering her, of making Ashley melt under their touch and succumb to their skilled and experienced fingers, tongues, and use of toys. With her other encounters, she liked to float endlessly in that fantasy place by having her partners make her come again… and again… and again… They always obliged, were happy and compelled to meet her need. But the dreamy state never lasted and when the furtive pulsing stopped, Ashley was left with a vacant, hollow feeling of hurt, loneliness, loss, abandonment, nothing. This will be different. I just know it. I hope…
Spencer feels Ashley's pull. An inexplicable magnetic force that draws Spencer in through her mouth, her tongue, her breasts and her -! Spencer inhales sharply. I've never felt that before.A flutter, then a thin string of fluid trickles between Spencer's warmed thighs. An indescribable enticing lure keeps Spencer's legs wedged between Ashley's; an inexplicable urge to bring her hips in closer. Spencer has a wanting in a part of her body that she never realized had a need. But, right now, it needs…Spencer loses her breath for the brief moment that Ashley pulls away, slipping her delicate tongue out of her soft warm mouth.
I just know it. I hope…Ashley thinks as she leads Spencer to her bed. This time, as they sit on the soft duvet gazing at each other, it is Spencer who wants more; more languid kisses, more of Ashley's soft skin brushing her face, more steamy wisps of breath, more quivering in the secret space between her legs. Spencer draws Ashley in. Ashley relents, I hope this time is different.
They sit on the bed partially turned to the other shoulder to shoulder, arms touch, hips, thighs, warm pulsating bodies longing. Ashley's gaze falls onto Spencer's lips. Spencer's gaze follows Ashley's. Their lips meet once more; their tongues taste the same flavor.
Ashley strokes Spencer's face. I want you.
Spencer intertwines her fingers in Ashley's hand. I know.
Ashley's fingers travel from Spencer's face to her shoulder, down her arm, past her elbow to the small of her back. They inch closer. Be with me.
Spencer pulls Ashley's shoulder toward her. I want to.
Without losing lip contact, Ashley allows herself to be led by Spencer's urging tug. Spencer lays back onto the bed and Ashley changes her position so that she pins Spencer's hips between her thighs. Ashley takes hold of Spencer's wrists and glides her arms upwards along either side of her body until Spencer's wrists are above her head. Ashley holds them there, pressing them into the duvet, anchoring her thighs deeper onto Spencer.
Spencer's shirt rides up to reveal her flat pale stomach.
Spencer inhales sharply as she feels the pressure of Ashley's weight on her pelvis and on her - . The flutter again. A spasm of heat flows through Spencer from her waist to her head. A scintillating tingle scampers down her back. A cool sweat breaks out on Spencer's brow and under her arms. With knees bent, thighs splayed apart, and beaconed by an unconscious urge to satisfy her own need, Ashley subtly rocks against Spencer's pelvis.
The room is silently filled with sighs, skin brushing skin, denim rubbing against cotton, the click of lips against tongues against lips and teeth against lips against tongues; their movements whisper with the scent of sandalwood, roses, hair conditioner, fabric softener and the faintest odor of body. Only a dim lamp lights the room but they do not notice through closed eyes. Red, blue, and gold pinpoints of light flicker under their closed lids.
Spencer's entire body suspends in a freshly poured glass of sparkling water. Her toes glitter bright white. She holds her breath, holds something in, but the tension is not in her lungs. It is all over her body especially in the part right under Ashley. She needs to release something, explode, but she does not know what to let go of. She does not want Ashley to stop whatever it is that she is doing. To accommodate the tension, unawares, Spencer naturally begins to move her hips against Ashley. What is she doing to me?
Ashley's senses race between the abandon of her body, the temptation to satisfy her need and the raw awareness of her thoughts. Will her mother know? Does her father know? Will she still like me? Will I still like her? Will I still like me? I'll be her first. Will I be her last? Will she be mine? Why do I care? I don't want to lose her. I don't want to hurt her. She smells so sweet. She tastes even sweeter. Will she freak out? Will I? I care so much about her. What is she doing to me?
Ashley and Spencer both stop their affections and open their eyes. They stare at each other wide-eyed, very surprised to see the other as close as she is.
"Hold me," Ashley whispers. "Just hold me."