Title: Conduct Unbecoming
Pairing: Brenda Leigh Johnson/Irene Daniels
Disclaimer: Oh if only I were so blessed. But I'm not. Not mine.
A/N: I am appalled by the steaming lack of the Closer femslash. So I rectified the situation.
Brenda Leigh Johnson was not a virgin.
Sex was enjoyable, but she had never understood sex addicts or the obsession with pornography. It always started with a kiss that led to the inevitable shedding of clothing. There was the obligatory fondling and caressing before the actual sex began. Then at the moment of climax, she and her partner pledged their loyalties to a particular deity before collapsing in a heap of sweat and musk and heat.
Some sex was better than others. Some of her lovers had been better than others. Sex was a part of life as sure as brushing her teeth in the morning or putting gas in her car.
But with Daniels, with Irene, it was anything but the same tired routine. She wasn't sure how they ended up in Irene's bed, only that they managed to piss off several more drivers at every red light between the restaurant and the apartment. And now sex became something Brenda never knew it could be.
It ceased to be the simple physical act of making love and became an elaborate, choreographed dance, a conversation of bodies.
Each caress of Irene's hand along her thigh was a whisper. Every kiss of the exposed flesh along her collarbone was a promise. The slender fingers raking through Brenda's hair were a confession. Brenda felt every secret glance, every controlled word that Irene kept to herself over the past year communicated in every stroke, every kiss.
It became as clear as if Irene were telling her with words. She never had to be afraid with Irene, never lost or uncertain. She could always be herself, and Irene would never lie to her. If there was ever any quest for truth or honesty or comfort, Brenda knew she could find it here.
Cradled by a bed of pillows and swathed by the sweat slick body above her, Brenda lost herself in Irene. Blood coursed through her veins like molten gold, blazing hot just underneath her skin and slow. It wasn't just her body on fire, it was the whole world.
She felt the crispness of the sheets underneath her body, Irene's breath on her neck, hot and moist. Every hair pressed against her fingertips as she ran them through Irene's thick, beautiful hair. Every drop of sweat that beaded ice cold against her brow. Their stomachs pressed against one another, Irene's deliciously firm. She heard every hitch in her lover's breath, felt every tremor her touch elicited, heard and felt every guttural moan.
Every steady thrum of her heart was a surprise, moving in quiet rhythm with the leg pressed between her thighs. Desire was a word spoken casually before, but now had a new, brilliant meaning.
Brenda forced her eyes open, was startled to see Irene's eyes already meeting hers. She pulled the younger woman closer to her, needing to feel more of her, to taste more of her until Brenda could no longer tell where she ended and Irene began. Where her hand ended, and Irene's breast began. Where her tongue stopped and Irene's neck started. Where Irene's thigh gave way to her center.
Their bodies moved together.
Faster.
Until they both slipped under the tide of orgasm, surging against one another, resurfacing with breathless moans and silent screams. Until Brenda's body went slack and Irene collapsed beside her, both panting and sated.
Neither said anything. Even as Daniels wrapped her arm around Brenda's waist, and Brenda scooted closer, laying her head against the other woman's chest.
Brenda listened to the rapid thump of Irene's heart until it slackened into a slow, steady cadence and her rasping gasps for breath evened. She felt the wetness between her legs and on her inner thighs, cool as the air hit it. Her skin was hyper-sensitive, almost painfully so as Irene gently nipped the flesh where her neck met her shoulder, then kissed it gingerly.
They had no need for words, to talk. Their bodies had done all the speaking for them. Despite herself, Brenda felt her lids slip shut, impossibly heavy. She could not have said anything had she wanted to. She realized that she had been wrong. She had sex before, yes. But this, what she had with Irene Daniels, was something gloriously new and different. It was passionate and regretless.
It was making love, something Brenda was not sure she had ever had before.