Fiona Coyne Day
Chapter Four
Fiona looked at her girlfriend with bewilderment in her grey eyes, her mouth slightly ajar; looking like a wind-up doll caught between gears. Imogen looked at her, brown eyes confused, her delicate frame still lying on top of her, hands along her hips, caressing the naked skin underneath her finger tips absentmindedly, distracting the fluttering thoughts that tried to escape past Fiona's lips.
"Fiona?" Imogen asked again, watching as the fair girl looked away, dark lashes fluttering this way and that with something Imogen just couldn't quite place.
"Well," the socialite began hesitantly, grey eyes darting all across the room like an animal searching for a way out of eminent danger. She found none.
She felt her heart sink, her eyes finding Imogen's again, her breath catching in her throat.
But then, as if a merciful god had taken pity on her, there was a ringing in the living room catching both their attention at once. Imogen turned around quickly, a crinkled furrow on her brow and a firm frown on her lips. She recognized the sound and groaned, pulling herself off and away.
"That's Natalie's ring tone. I'll be right back." She said with a whine, crawling off the bed on her hands and knees and making her way to the other side of the loft. Fiona visibly relaxed, feeling her shoulder slump, catching the faint sound of Imogen's voice as she answered her cell.
She took a deep breath, brushing her hair back with an exasperated sigh, licking her suddenly dry lips.
"Is this your first time too?"
What was she supposed to say to that? What was she supposed to tell her adorable girlfriend? That no, she had lost her virginity to an ex-girlfriend she had never mentioned to her before?
She gave a heavy sigh. Feeling all hope sink along with her mood. She frowned, rubbing her temple. What was she going to do now?
I could lie.
She shook her head, swatting the blasphemous thought away as quickly as it came. She could never lie to Imogen especially not about something like this. She could never betray the solid foundation of trust they had built their entire relationship on, the foundation of patience, understanding and complete trust. Lying was definitely not an option. Fiona wrinkled her brow, clenching her jaw tightly.
She had to tell her.
She had to tell Imogen about Charlie.
Charlie.
Fiona groaned, feeling her heart sink at the mere mention of her ex-girlfriend's name.
How did I forget to tell her? After so long it looked suspicious that she had never told her, and if she knew Imogen, which she did, she would see the suspiciousness and hold into it.
Fiona groaned.
She felt like a fool, like a complete and utter idiot for never telling her—for never remembering to tell her. In all their time together Fiona's thoughts had revolved around two things; her family's financial issues and Imogen—that was it. Since that last time she had encountered Charlie about a year ago she hadn't thought of her. Not even once.
She had spent the entire summer in rehab, wanting to put the whole ordeal behind her and she had and with that she had gotten over Charlie, for good. But now, she couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe how foolish it was. She should have told Imogen about Charlie, she should have explained to her all the various confusing things that had occurred during that time and came clean about all of it before they had began their relationship. She had told her about Bobby, had told her about the various things that drove her to drink, she had even told her about her embarrassing crush on Holly J. -how was it that she never thought it relevant to tell her about Charlie? She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her ears ringing.
I am so screwed.
"Yes Natalie, we're just watching a movie." Imogen said with typical teenage exasperation, entering the room and giving Fiona a comical look. As nervous as she was the socialite couldn't restrain a smile from flowering over her face, her cheeks dimpling in the typical Fiona manner as she watched Imogen making faces.
Imogen frowned suddenly, obviously not liking what her mother was saying on the other end, "Natalie! Are you serious? Why would there be boys over? I told you Drew was going to be gone. Besides, lesbians, remember?"
There was a long silence as Imogen's mother continued her lecture on the other end of the phone and Imogen simply sat on the corner of the bed, rolling her eyes this way and that way, giving her mother periodic sounds indicating she understood while trying to remain calm.
"Yes Mother, we'll be good. I know. Okay. See you tomorrow. Bye." Imogen hung up and threw her phone on the bed, "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, turning to face her girlfriend, "How annoying! Seriously, why can't Natalie just relax? Even if Drew was here it's not like I'd immediately start pining over him." she complained. Fiona couldn't fight a slight laugh at the ridiculousness behind the idea. Imogen was definitely not interested in Drew, or anyone else for that matter, not with the way she kissed her, the way her hands roamed all over her body and the suggestive little tid-bits she usually whispered in Fiona's ear. No, Imogen was in no danger of pining over Drew, none whatsoever.
Imogen turned around, giving her a slightly naughty grin, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, making her way across the bed and back onto Fiona's lap. "How could I ever want a boy when I have all this," she purred, running her hands over Fiona's bare shoulders, down to her waist and up again, sending a shudder through the girl. God, who taught her to be so sexy? Imogen leaned forward, "So, where were we?" she husked, wrapping her arms around Fiona's neck and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. Fiona felt her eyes roll back at the glory of it all, soft hands against her shoulders, trailing up against her neck, stroking her nape slowly, sending a thrill through the older girl.
Imogen grinned, pressing herself against Fiona's front, her tongue darting out, asking for Fiona's permission. Fiona gladly gave it to her, wrapping her arms around her, fingers slipping under her sweater, stroking the very soft flesh of her sides. Fiona gave a soft moan as Imogen pushed herself against her a bit rougher, growing impatient and needy; her hands trailing down her shoulders, tugging at her bra strap, over her collar inching closer to her left breast. Fiona moaned when she felt a palm slowly mold against her, Imogen's lips hot and eager, her hands warm and inviting and so so delightful. Fiona felt like she was drowning, drowning more and more in Imogen, her lips, her hands, the warmth embrace of love and want and-
"Wait," Fiona started, suddenly, pushing Imogen's hands away as gently as she could, regretting it instantly but unable to ignore the nagging at the back of her mind.
"What? Did I do something wrong?" the spectacled girl asked, holding her hands in the air guiltily, eyes hurt and embarrassed. Fiona felt her heart thud in her chest, heard her ears ringing, felt guilt eating away at the wonderful emotions Imogen's eager lips and hands rose within her, felt shame mix with that delightful tightening in her belly. She couldn't do this. She couldn't take advantage of the situation; she couldn't take advantage of Imogen.
"N—No, you're perfect." Fiona assured, looking up at her girlfriend with the most torn expression Imogen had ever seen.
"You don't want to?" Imogen asked her voice weak and startled and doing all kinds of things to the other girl's heart. The socialite groaned audibly, a sound Imogen had never heard before, a sound so desperate and sexually frustrated it sent shivers up her spine. Fiona bit her lip.
God, that couldn't be further from the truth, she thought, trying to reorganize her thoughts, trying to keep her eyes from staying on Imogen's delectable lips too long.
"No, Imogen." She began her voice thick and heartfelt, "I want to. I really do. Believe me, I don't think I've ever wanted anything this much," she breathed, grey eyes darkened with a desire pent up too long. Imogen blushed darker at the sentiment, fidgeting with the effects those husky words had on her.
"Then what is it?" she prodded gently, finding her patience running thin suddenly, finding her gaze trailing towards Fiona's bare chest more than a few times in the last minute. Imogen bit her lip, feeling the familiar slow swirl of desire curl in her tummy.
"You…" Fiona struggled, visibly fighting for the words, "You asked me something-before your mom called." Imogen have her a confused look.
"What?
Fiona frowned.
"You asked me if this was my first time."
Imogen gave her a confused look, cocking he head to the side, her glasses adorably askew on her nose, "Okay crazy girl..." She gave a half laugh, looking somewhat amused, "And?" She added expectantly. Fiona took a shaky breath, pulling herself back a bit.
"It's not."
There was a long pregnant pause following her solemn admission, a heavy silence enveloping the room. Fiona couldn't bring herself to look at the beautiful girl in front of her.
"Oh," Imogen pulled away slightly, obviously taken aback. "Oh."
Fiona pulled away, sitting back on her legs, grey eyes refusing to focus on her girlfriend, fluttering about aimlessly along random corners of the dim room.
"Look Imogen, you asked," she began softly, "And it just didn't feel right not telling you." She explained, looking over at her cautiously.
"—Was it with a boy?" Imogen interjected suddenly, the tone of her voice strangely urgent.
"What?" Fiona asked, taken aback by the absurdity of the question.
"Oh my God, Fiona, was it Bobby? Did he—? Fiona, I'll kill him if he—"
"—No, Immy it wasn't Bobby." She reassured, grey eyes flickering over her worried face with a tenderness, a warmth in her remembering, in her protectiveness, "It was a girl."
"What girl?" Imogen asked, peering at her through her glasses, eyes dark with something Fiona didn't quite like, something she had seen before, "You never told me you were seeing anyone before me."
"Immy, just listen," she began, suddenly very nervous, suddenly very unsure, "It was last year, it lasted like two weeks. It's really not a big deal—"
"But you slept with her." Imogen insisted, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Well yeah," Fiona struggled, "But we weren't in a serious relationship or anything..." She explained, cringing at how terrible that sounded. Fiona folded her arms around her chest, looking at her expectantly.
"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"
"I... I don't know. I just never thought about it..."
"Do you still have feelings for her?"
"What?—No!"
"Then why the hell did you keep this from me?"
"I'm asking myself the same question." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I guess it just didn't cross my mind until you asked me."
Imogen sat silently, before speaking up again, "Who was she?" She asked, her voice softer now, having lost most of its accusatory tone—Fiona was grateful for that.
"Her name was Charlie." She began, mustering up the courage to peer up at Imogen.
"Charlie." Imogen repeated, looking like she was remembering something, "You and Eli used to talk about her a lot last year. I didn't know that you and she..." She trailed off, uncomfortable with the words "had sex." Uncomfortable because she didn't expect it. Uncomfortable because she didn't think her girlfriend had been held by another woman, someone who knew he better than she did... More intimately. She bit her lip and frowned.
Fiona saw the insecurity flash across Imogen face and felt her heart break.
"Imogen," she began.
"Continue with your explanation," Imogen interrupted with a firm expression and Fiona nodded.
"I met her over spring break last year," she explained, "It was right after I'd come out, and I..." she paused, grey eyes bright with the memory. She could remember the bitter taste of knowing what love felt like but no one ever reciprocating, the feeling of having no one that would think of her first no one that could love her the way she needed to be loved, "I just wanted someone… Everybody had someone..." her lips pressed into a frown, "It was so hard. I had just come out, I had finally accepted myself and I was finally getting over my stupid crush on Holly J; meeting Charlie was a way to start over. I just…I wanted someone to call mine." she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "She was the first lesbian I'd met, the first girl who openly accepted me, who took interest in me. I was just a kid and she made me feel special." she shrugged with a helpless smile, the dim light coming from the lamp dancing over her face. Imogen felt her expression soften as she watched the array of emotions play across her face, "We started dating, if you could even call it that. At some point she even stayed with me for like a week." she added with an amused laugh, looking back at the absurdity of the situation.
"—What?" Imogen exclaimed, sitting forward with a strange, urgent look, not finding an ounce of hilarity in the situation at all. "She stayed with you? Here?" she turned around, looking for some trace of the mysterious woman in the bedroom, as if she were watching them from some corner with a smug grin, "Fiona, why didn't you tell me this?" Imogen pressed, her expression that of disbelief. Fiona cringed, taken aback and slightly scared.
"I just... I forgot Imogen!" she argued weakly, her voice an unbalanced mixture of defense and appeasement, "I guess I just didn't think it was relevant."
"Fiona this woman lived with you! There was a woman who lived with my girlfriend for a whole week and I didn't even know about it!" Imogen scolded her voice sharp and disapproving, "I can't believe you never told me!"
"It was barely a week! She moved out soon after!" she offered weakly, her brows furrowed with confusion and displeasure, "It's not a big deal!"
"So let me get this straight," Imogen began, "You met some girl who you then invited to stay with you for about a week... who then had sex with you." She summed on her fingers, her head falling to the side with disapproval, a tight expression on her face, "But it's not a 'big deal'?"
"It just sounds worse than it really was! Really!" Fiona reassured, her expression hopefully and entirely too optimistic.
"Well, it sounds pretty bad." Imogen insisted, her eyes cold and disappointed and all too familiar.
"Imogen, I was so stupid back then." Fiona began, her brows furrowed with the memory, "I was just a spoiled self centered brat with a drinking problem. She lost her place and I stupidly invited her to stay with me without even thinking. Holy J kept telling me it was a bad idea but of course I didn't listen. She and I slept together and then... Then things didn't work out between us when she finally found out I was an alcoholic..." she trailed off, her voice small and weak. Imogen felt her heart break at the very sound, " I nearly broke down while we were together, I actually did later and I had to go back to rehab." she said with a disgusted expression, instantly remembering the haunting taste of alcohol burn the back of her throat. She shook it off, feeling her throat clench in a mid gag at the mere memory, "I... I wasn't ready for a serious relationship. With my drinking problem and the stress of being in a relationship... I just couldn't deal. So, I broke it off with her and she moved out. It wasn't until later when things got worse that I finally broke down and started drinking again. Thankfully though, Charlie managed to knock some sense into me. She yelled at me and scolded me and I finally came to my senses." she continued, "I finally got my life back together. I fixed my relationship with Holy J thanks to her... and it's thanks to her that I can be here with you now, sober and level headed."
"Fiones..." Imogen began her expression soft and kind. Fiona didn't look at her however, her brows knitted as she looked down at her folded hands.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, I should have. It just never came across my mind. I've been so preoccupied with everything that's been going on that I just didn't think." She continued, "I worked so hard to put all those terrible memories behind me, I guess I just didn't want to think about it. It's a terrible excuse, I know—"
"Fiona," Imogen interrupted gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. Fiona looked up her, grey eyes torn and filled with regret and pain. Imogen gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, giving her a smile, her eyes apologetic and soft, "It's okay."
Fiona smiled back weakly, her smile not reaching the brilliance it was capable of, her eyes still worried, "Are you still mad?"
"How can I stay mad at you when you're being such a sad sack?" She teased, leaning forward a bit, finger tips brushing away the curls she had disheveled earlier, the pads of her fingers caressing Fiona's fair skin lightly, lingering a bit longer that was customary, "I was just... A little jealous." She admitted, brown eyes looking into gray ones. Fiona didn't look away this time.
"I'm so sorry Immy." She said softly, her words breathy and honest and oh so lovely, grey blue eyes holding Imogen's gaze steadily. Imogen felt her heart flip flop in her chest, felt her ears burn.
"Don't be. You were in love. You don't have to be sorry for that." she said with a smile and a hint of regret, "I was just being stupid and jealous. Stupid because you stood by me when I was with Eli and you've never once asked me a thing about it. I haven't thanked you for that by the way." She said softly, wrapping her arms about Fiona's neck and gazing down at her lovingly, "You accept me with my past and I should do the same with you. I'm just sorry I overreacted. It wasn't fair of me. What happened between you and Charlie happened and that's that. I shouldn't get so worked up over something that happened before we even knew each other," She continued, looking sorrowful and guilty, "I just... I don't have experience in this kind of thing and I guess that just freaks me out a bit. I guess I thought you were just as clumsy and inexperienced as me." She said with a laugh.
"If it makes you feel better I am just as clumsy and inexperienced as you are, Im." Fiona confessed with a giggle and Imogen was grateful for it.
"Thanks for that." She grinned, pressing a kiss against Fiona's lips.
Fiona gladly accepted, pressing for another kiss, and then another—Imogen pulled away reluctantly just as her girlfriends kisses began to deepen, feeling Fiona's wandering hands along her back. She detangled herself from Fiona gently, giving the beautiful girl a stern look, "Anything else I should know about before we continue?" She asked, cocking a serious brow in Fiona's direction.
The socialite mulled it over for a second, knowing there were many things she still needed to tell the girl. Stories of jealousy that made girls do strange things, of a love misplaced, of the loneliness that drives people to drown in bottle after bottle of liquor and the self loathing that keeps you from recovering. Yes, there were things she needed to hear, stories she needed to know about, tears that needed to be cried for her younger self, but those were stories for another night.
"Nothing too pressing." she said with a dimpled smile finally. Imogen gave a laugh, the sound making Fiona's heart sing with joy.
"Maybe some other time then." Imogen said with a smile, eyes filled with trust and love and desire. Fiona felt her heart melt.
"Immy, you are the best girlfriend a girl could ever have." She said with a grin, her words raspy and thick and confident.
"It's a gift. I'm Italian." Imogen grinned, wrapping her arms about Fiona's neck, eyes dancing with affection and newly restored good humor
Fiona gave a soft laugh, "I'm serious, Im." She continued, smiling up at the girl, "I'm so grateful," she said softly, suddenly overwhelmed by something she hadn't felt in a long time, "I'm so grateful to have you Imogen, to have someone that is willing to stand by me even when I mess up." She continued, "It's so new to me. Everyone I've ever loved has gone away, I always end up messing things up and pushing the people I love away. I just... I get scared sometimes, you know?" Imogen nodded, stroking the girls face tenderly, "I just... I love you so much Imogen. I don't want to mess this up." She husked, blue gray eyes deep and honest and pained with the sweet love she had cradled so gently in her heart, nursed and let grow, it's arms spreading towards the sun, happy and free and full of life.
Imogen smiled gently, her eyes shining with affection and everything she never thought she could feel, "You love me?" She asked, unable to contain the awe and undeniable uncertainty in her voice.
Fiona opened her mouth to say something but stopped half way and opted for a shy smile instead, her cheeks dimpling and flushing red. Imogen scooted closer, looking at her intently.
"Yeah," she finally said, her voice thick and raspy and gorgeous, "I do." She continued, grey eyes finding Imogen's, burning with so many emotions Imogen couldn't count them all if she tried, "I love you so much Immy, so much that it actually hurts." She husked, gazing up at the girl who held her heart, "I love you so much it scares me to lose you, that I'll mess this up just like I've messed everything else up." She paused for a second, suddenly self conscious, "Was that going too fast? Do you hate it?" She asked with a wince, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. Imogen gave a laugh.
"Are you kidding me? Look at us!" she said with a laugh, "You're half naked and I can barely go two seconds without touching you!" Fiona gave a laugh, that same laugh that never failed to take her breath away, that same laugh that made her realize her feelings, Imogen smiled, "It's not too fast Fiones. And no I don't hate it... Actually, I love it." She said with a wide grin, pressing a soft kiss against her girlfriend's lips, "And I love you." She whispered, wrapping her arms around Fiona's neck tighter and settling down on her lap, "I've loved you from the moment you let me fasten a foil skirt on you in the caf, even if I didn't know it. And I'll never leave you. You can try to push me away as much as you want silly girl, but I'm not going anywhere." She husked, pressing her nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.
"Really?" The vulnerability in Fiona's voice pained Imogen's heart.
"Really."
Fiona gave a happy smile, the kind that lit up her entire face, that made Imogen forget how to breathe—and in that moment she realized exactly just what that meant; "I love you". She loved her, loved everything about her, her smile, her laugh, the pale colored freckles speckled on her nose, the crabbiness when she didn't have her coffee in the morning, she loved all of it. Imogen felt her heart flutter, felt her chest tighten. She loved her so much. So much it physically pained her, pained her because it was so honest, pained her because it was so scary—because she couldn't imagine herself if she wasn't beside Fiona Coyne and if Fiona Coyne wasn't beside her.
Fiona smiled as if knowingly, she always did that and Imogen had to add it to her list as tugged at the girl until she was kissing her. Fiona wrapped her arms around her, stroking the sensitive skin of her back, dragging her finger nails down her sides and up her ribs and Imogen softly thanked whatever gods allowed them to meet, thanked them because this was heaven.
"Fiona..." Imogen moaned softly, Fiona's palms warm and soft and filled with promise against her bare sides, trailing down to her short clad hips and back again leaving her hot and flushed and flustered. Fiona's hands traced the slender girl's rib cage, up and over until her finger tips were tracing the frilly black lace of her bra like butterfly wings—soft and careful and so very entrancing. They dipped underneath the material playfully, stroking the tender unexplored flesh, sending Imogen's heart a flutter in her chest, her blood roaring in her ears.
Fiona pulled away suddenly, her warm touch gone, leaving a chilly after effect in its wake, Imogen shuttered despite herself, felt her very soul tremble with the wicked things the girl provoked inside of her. Fiona gave her a soft look, her ever careful and understanding eyes peering at Imogen's flushed face, "Is this okay, Im? Should I stop?" She asked, half regretful and half careful and all too conflicted. It was more than Imogen could bear.
"Don't you dare." She breathed, pushing herself against Fiona, kissing her for all she was worth. Fiona purred low in her throat, pulling at the younger girl, their tongues fighting for dominance, their hands pushing and pulling and eager. Imogen pulled back, breath heavy, pupils dilated. She grinned, pulling her oversized sweat shirt up and over her head smoothly, throwing it to the side triumphantly. Fiona felt her breath catch in her throat, her pale colored eyes flickering over her girlfriends bra clad breasts, her heart fluttering uncontrollably at the sight of the twin scoops held snuggly by her purple lace bra. Fiona grinned, eyes flickering over the hearts and grinning skulls embroidered in lace against the purple fabric. Very Imogen like and entirely too perfect.
"Immy," she husked, voice trembling, "You look... amazing."
Imogen grinned, pressing herself against Fiona, bare tummies touching.
"Take your time, Miss Coyne." She husked, testing the waters, feeling a slight tremor travel up her spine. She wrapped her arms around her girlfriend's neck, giving her time to take in the view with a bit of insecurity burning her ears. The way Fiona's grey eyes darkened a she admired her cleavage vanquished her insecurity instantly and Imogen felt her heart flutter, wondering if she had looked at her like that as well, "I hope you plan to do more than sight see, though."
Fiona smiled embarrassed, cheeks flushed with color, blue grey eyes bashful and good humored. Imogen giggled, leaning forward, pressing a kiss against her lips.
Fiona gave a breathy gasp, feeling Imogen's skin against her own, their breasts pushed against each other's within their plush confines, flat tummies touching and igniting a fire.
"You're so soft," she moaned softly, caressing her girlfriends sides, dancing up and then back down, enjoying the feel of Imogen's body against her own.
"You too," Imogen husked as her lips traveled down Fiona's neck, biting and sucking her way down her collar, her hands stilling around her hips, enjoying the sweet softness and slopes she had only dreamt of, "You're so perfect Fiones." She groaned.
Fiona gasped, curling her fingers around Imogen's tightly bound hair, tugging and pulling at the pins that kept them in place and unleashing the lush locks she kept bound. Imogen hummed in pleasure, lips against the white expanse of Fiona's neck, hands pushing and stroking with her palms.
Fiona giggled, turning on her hip and guiding Imogen back down on the bed. The younger girl squealed with delight, Fiona's fingers dancing over her ticklish parts with devilishness. Fiona smiled, pressing a kiss against Imogen's lips, stilling her fingers along her sides, sliding her palms down her hips and tugging her close. Fiona grinned, kissing her way down Imogen's neck, tracing the curve of her throat with the tip of her nose. Imogen gasped, feeling Fiona gently suckle the sensitive skin of her neck, her mouth a swirl of heat and softness and complete loveliness. She pressed her thigh between her legs and Imogen gave a soft groan, reaching for a pillow above her head, pushing herself against Fiona with a desperate moan.
"Fiones," Imogen groaned, pulling at the girl, finding her lips with her own, eager and all too willing to receive whatever she was willing to give her as their hips found a slow teasing rhythm.
"Immy," Fiona moaned, her voice thick and raspy and oh-so-delightful, her hands gently caressing Imogen's breasts, her lips finding and teasing her earlobe, breath hot and sexy and eager.
"Fiones," the younger girl gasped, rolling her hips against Fiona's, her ears roaring with the glory of it all; the tingling in her toes, the tickling in the tips of her fingers, the sweet tang bursting her taste buds like electricity.
A delicate giggle, a breathy gasp, eager soft palms and soft lips were all she could register. Imogen felt her heart flutter uncontrollably, reaching for her and her curls, her lovely dimpled smile and throaty words of endearment, lips against lips, bodies warm and snug against each other.
"Wait," Imogen gasped, pulling away, "I want to take these off." She said, sitting up and tugging at her bottoms, finding the material bothersome and much too rough. Fiona nodded dumbly, ears and cheeks flushed with the heat of their excitement and arousal. She sat up, her gentle hands fumbling with the button of Imogen's shorts, hooking around her waist band and pulling them down then off. Imogen giggled throwing them to the side of the bed, eyes dancing with excitement and newly found freedom. Fiona smiled, running her palms down her sides, feeling the silky material of her underwear along her hips and feeling the sharp curl of desire stir inside her, sudden and demanding.
"You like?" Imogen asked, feeling her confidence returning. Fiona looked up and grinned, cheeks flushed red and eyes bright with excitement.
"Very much so." She admitted with a cock of her head, leaning up to press a kiss against Imogen's lips.
"These need to go hasta la vista too." Imogen said with a half grin, her fingers tugging at the elastic band of Fiona's pajama bottoms, giving her a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, "It's not fair that I'm the only one exposing my ticklish parts, Miss Fiona Coyne." She pouted, glancing down at her bare necessities. Fiona glanced too, not willing to miss the opportunity to ogle her half naked girlfriend.
"I couldn't agree more Miss Moreno." She breathed, tearing herself from Imogen and tugging her pajama bottoms down, exposing a matching pair of black panties and long white legs. Imogen's face reddened even further at the thought of what delightful teasing secrets those snuggly fit panties hid from her.
"You're perfect Fiones," Imogen breathed, pressing a kiss against her lips more insistently this time, pulling the girl down on top of her, kissing her long and slow, kissing her for all she was worth, for every painful ounce of love she had for her, for the words she couldn't think up to express that love.
Imogen gasped, feeling Fiona's skillful fingers undoing the clasp of her bra smoothly. She arched, helping her get it off, the straps sliding off her shoulders quickly, the bra cast aside.
"You too," Imogen breathed, her palms sliding from her girlfriends naked sides to her back. Fiona sat up quickly, reaching back and undoing the clasp herself, releasing the full scoops her bra had held captive for so long. Imogen barely had time to admire the pale pink of her girlfriend's areolas before Fiona's mouth was against hers again, eager and utterly amazing. The softness of their breasts pushed together delightfully, sending their hearts a flutter with frighteningly exciting anticipation.
"Immy," Fiona all but moaned, burning her face against the crook of Imogen's neck, enjoying the delightful sensation of their intimate hug—their shared warmth and desire. Imogen moaned softly, her hands tugging at Fiona's curls, pulling her into a fierce kiss. The blue eyed girl purred low in her throat, stroking her girlfriend's flat tummy with the flats of her palm. She traced slow circles along the planes of her stomach, slow and sensual and all too exciting. Imogen groaned, holding the older girl against her tightly as Fiona's very careful finger tips found what they were looking for.
"Mama mia," she gasped, arching, awed and entirely amazed, Fiona couldn't help a giggle, Imogen's word choice never failing to amuse her. She bit her lip, feeling something dangerous stir within her, grey eyes watching as Imogen's expression changed from surprised to enthralled to utterly erotic. Her finger tips pushed against the bud straining against her girlfriends cotton underwear gently, patient but undeniably eager. Imogen gasped.
"Is that good Im?" Fiona asked, blue grey eyes darkened with desire, thirsty for approval and something else. Imogen shut her eyes tightly, reaching up and grabbing hold of the pillow above her head, arching her back instinctively.
"Yes," she gasped and Fiona smiled, pleased, finger stroking slowly about her lovers not-so-ticklish parts, her grey eyes intent on her reactions—the reddening of her cheeks, the parting of her lips.
"So cute," she breathed, kissing her deeply, passionately—entirely too in love with her. Imogen moaned, arching her back, her hips rising to meet Fiona's skilled fingers, petting, pressing, stroking her through the fabric of her panties and suddenly Imogen was panting and chanting her lovers name, moaning and straining against the sheets, her girlfriends fingers having slipped into her panties, delicate and careful fingers slipping inside her lovers warmth, slick and easy and hot. Fiona pressed kisses along the side of her face, nipped at her ear lobe, traced her jaw with her nose—whispered sweet worlds in breathy pants, gasped and giggled when she found a particularly sweet spot, leaving Imogen's flustered and hot and utterly complete.
And Imogen called out her name, again and again, her sex clenching around the intruding but delightfully welcomed digits, as if trying to trap them—her arms wrapped tightly around her lover as if afraid she would disappear suddenly, "Please," she panted, her ears roaring with heat, her eyes shut tight, focused completely on her girlfriends delicate touch, on the gentle rhythm of her fingers, the wandering lips against her shoulder, "Please don't stop Fiones." She mewled, arching again as Fiona's thumb gently stroked the swollen bud crying for attention, her lips having found their way to her chest—Imogen gasped, holding her tightly, her muffled moans buried against the abundance of Fiona's curls as she felt herself climbing a great height, scaling higher and higher as Fiona giggled breathlessly in her ear, higher until—
But suddenly Fiona did just what Imogen's asked her not to do; she stopped and her fingers were gone and Imogen made a frustrated sound, throwing her head back against the pillow with both frustration and desperation.
"No, Fiona," she whined, turning her head to the side, suddenly very grateful for the cool fabric of the pillow case, "Come on," she groaned, her tummy tight with denied release.
Fiona giggled, a delightful sound despite Imogen's growing irritation.
"Patience," The older girl chided gently, her voice rich with amusement and tickling with kisses as she traveled down Imogen's tummy, earning a moan of approval. Fiona giggled again, pressing kisses along the flat planes of her stomach, tickling her navel with slick licks of her tongue, teasing and hinting and all too exciting. Imogen groaned, grabbing fistfuls of fabric, feeling her very core tremble with anticipation, with a need she had never known before. Fiona kissed down Imogen's body until her path was obstructed by the fabric of her underwear, "We need to get these off," she murmured with a smile and blushing cheeks, tugging at Imogen's purple colored panties lightly, her eyes dark with lust and love and eagerness.
The younger girl sat up, bending her knees so Fiona could pull them over her legs and off. And then Imogen was on her back again, panting as Fiona's warm hands and lips came against her, hot and exciting and very well almost sending Imogen over the edge. Gentle hands parted her legs with patience and all the loveliness she had ever imagined and then Imogen's nerves prickled and she nearly screamed with the glory of it all as Fiona's lips came against her. She kissed her, slow and long, the signature Fiona Coyne kiss that always left her breathless and weak—except this was somewhere else, except this left her nerves sizzling, her head swimming, her body trembling.
She kissed her, hot tongue giving her slow slick licks, enjoying the way she melted in her mouth, the taste against her tongue. She pursed her lips, finding and taking the small bud between them and suckling gently. She was rewarded with a set of delightful squeals and moans, with a set of soft mewls and gasps and Fiona loved them.
Imogen threw her head back, her hands grabbing fist fills of the pillow above her head, her legs unable to stay still as Fiona held her still, kissing her again and again, every kiss saying I love you, I love you, you and only you.
And so Imogen called out Fiona's name, called it out like she was afraid of forgetting it, her heart pounding and screaming for her and only her—saying it back I love you, I love you and I always, always will. And Imogen arched, mouth parted in silent ecstasy, a silent scream tearing past her lips as Fiona pressed eager kisses against her—slow and sensual and enough to drive Imogen mad.
And then she felt her tummy tighten, felt something grow taunt like a bow string, ready to pull and release and she palmed the bed, her breath coming short and quick as wave after wave of pleasure poured through her and in a flurry of white she arched, body growing tight, every nerve pricking with electricity, toes curling, back arching— a sputter, a shock. And then she was falling, falling from a great hight until she was limp, until her chest rose and fell and utter relaxed exhaustion fell upon her, her heart thudding in her chest, struggling to slow down.
Fiona looked up, grey eyes shining with satisfaction and complete and utter love; her lips wearing a smile as she pulled herself up along Imogen's trembling form, her curls falling over her shoulder and tickling the younger girl. She couldn't help a slight giggle, watching as Imogen recovered from her orgasm, face freshly flushed with color, her breathing heavy and dreamy and beyond satisfied. Fiona leaned forward, pressing a kiss against Imogen lips and the younger girl smiled an exhausted dreamy smile, wrapping her arms around the girl she loved and kissed her.
"That was... Oh my God." she confessed, airy and delirious with life and love and lust and awe. Fiona giggled and Imogen smiled widely, embarrassed and unashamed all at once, glowing with satisfaction and love and everything Fiona Coyne inspired.
"You tired, Im?" Fiona asked, her face the color of sunsets and valentine hearts as she stroked Imogen burning cheek with slow deliberate finger tips. Imogen sighed, feeling the familiar curl of desire within her, her restlessness returning. She gave the older girl a toothy grin, eying with a sudden look— a look Fiona recognized instantly— a look she very much liked.
"Not at all," she husked, kissing her, pulling her down and rolling her over so that she could straddle her and Fiona smiled and gave a breathy sigh—a sigh because she was hoping Imogen would say that, a sigh because her composure was cracking with the love and desire she had held back for so long. Because she couldn't ignore the heat between her legs, the desperation Imogen's helpless cries had created.
Imogen grinned, pressing kisses along Fiona's white neck, nipping and swirling her tongue about her skin and sending the girl into an enthralled stupor. The younger girl palmed her girlfriends breasts carefully, hands timid and eager all at once, stroking the swollen buds against her fingers. Imogen smiled, enjoying the pants that escaped her lover's lips, the painful vulnerability only she was allowed to see. And she kissed her, kissed her long and slow as her fingers found their way down the wonderful white curves of her hips, the soft skin eliciting a purr low in her throat. God, Fiona was absolute perfection—and she was hers, all hers.
"These need to go bye-bye," Imogen husked, her cheeks flushed with heat and excitement as she tugged at Fiona's panties. The blue eyed girl sat up quickly, face flushed red with anticipation as she pulled them off and threw them aside. She gave a soft groan as she felt Imogen's lips against hers again, her wandering hands along the flats of her stomach, trailing down past her navel with teasing leisure.
Fiona stiffened as Imogen found the secrets her panties had kept from her, fingers soft and timid and excited as they traced her length and slipped inside her, fiddling with the tight bud they found, a soft cry tearing past her lips. Fiona arched, her body curling against her girlfriends, her warmth clenching around the delightful digit, grateful and needing and nothing less than glorious.
"Fiones," Imogen groaned, finding it hard to concentrate with the delightful show before her, the lovely sounds of pleasure escaping past her lips, the way Fiona had her head thrown back as she sat, exposing the delicate whiteness of her neck, it was all very lovely and very very distracting. Imogen pulled her fingers away; trailing the coated stickiness along one of her thighs. She grinned as Fiona made a soft sound of disapproval, sounding like a kitten as she fell back on her elbows, chest rising and falling. Imogen kissed down her stomach, nipping and teasing as she went. She parted Fiona's legs gently and then paused, gazing down at the pale pink wonder before her, glazed, flushed, eager and waiting just for her. Her heart fluttered, her ears burning with heat.
"What?" Fiona asked, delirious and lust struck and slightly impatient as she looked down at the girl between her legs. Imogen grinned, liking Fiona's expression, liking the red on her cheeks and lips, the lust in her grey eyes. Imogen bit her lip.
"Is there anywhere you aren't pretty?" She asked with a cocked brow and a toothy grin.
"Imogen!" She scolded, shaking her head and averting her eyes. She tried to close her legs but failed, the younger girl's hands insistent and persistent and not doing what Fiona hoped they would.
"It's true though! You're so cute down here!" Imogen insisted, feeling her glasses fog over with her own excitement, "So pretty and pink and very Fiona Coyne like." She continued, her finger tips petting and stroking and sending shivers up Fiona's back.
"Imogen..." She complained, throwing her head back a bit, flushed and aroused and much too enthralled to be embarrassed anymore. "Please Immy," She breathed, cheeks flushed redder then Imogen had ever seen, her perfect front teeth digging into her lush lower lip—God she was gorgeous. She felt her heart skip a beat at how wonderful she looked, flustered and frustrated and all too lovely.
Imogen smiled and said nothing, but simply leaned down, pressing her lips against the swollen bud, red and demanding attention, enjoying the taste against her tongue. Fiona moaned, a weak moan, straggled and grateful. She threw her head back, her chest rising and falling as Imogen pressed soft kisses against her trembling sex, slick licks against her swollen bud and suckling.
Fiona cried out her name, falling back against the pillows and endless curls, clutching the sheets desperately, brows arched and face flushed red.
She called out her name again and again, her voice thick and lust struck, aching and overjoyed.
"Immy," she panted, her voice rich and sensual and entirely too appealing, "Please," she begged, arching against her, trying her hardest not to buck her hips against Imogen lips, clutching the sheets in her hands desperately, "Don't stop, Im—!" She gasped, throwing her head to the side with a whimper. And then she felt it, creeping up on her like a wildcat, stalking her and lunging. Release pounced on her, claimed her, dug its very teeth into her soul and she almost screamed, straining against the sheets, Imogen's lips against her until she lay exhausted, breathless and limp, bare to the world; born anew.
And before she knew it Imogen's was next to her, kissing her, petting her still trembling form. Fiona smiled and kissed Imogen, kissed her like she hadn't seen her in years and she held her, held her tightly, held her as if afraid she would vanish.
"I love you Immy." She husked, fingertips brushing away a few loose strands of hair from her face, tucking them behind her ear tenderly, "I love you so much."
"Fiones," Imogen's smiled, gazing down at the flushed girl lovingly, her eyes bright, her dimpled smile sending a tremor through her heart, "I love you too." She husked, pressing her nose against Fiona's in an Eskimo kiss, "I love you my spoiled girl."
Fiona giggled, pulling her close so that that lay pressed together until they were practically wearing each other, tangled beyond detanglment. She hummed something in her throat, her fingers tracing lazy hearts along Imogen back as she slowly drifted off to sleep, blue grey eyes and lush dark lashes fluttering closed to the sight of Imogen's long hair spread out against the pillow.
And the last thing Imogen could remember thinking as she sleepily counted the pale colored freckles on Fiona's delightfully crooked nose in the dim moonlight, was thinking that she was the luckiest girl in the world.
And slowly, with Fiona's sleeping face permanently imprinted in her memory she fell asleep, tired and content and undeniably happy.
