Prompt: irresistible
Holly saw the blonde out of the corner of her eye, tucked away amid the throng of moving bodies, and felt the ground shift suddenly under her feet.
She hadn't come out tonight looking for a girl. She hadn't, despite the best efforts of her friends, come to get laid. Lisa and Rachel had dragged her out of her apartment demanding that she snap out of her post-break up funk. They were tired of her moping around, tired of her hiding in her room and listening to the same song over and over again.
Just yesterday Lisa threatened to break her Rumours vinyl in half if she heard "Go Your Own Way" one more time.
Lisa had always been a kind of judgmental bitch, and totally unsympathetic towards anyone else's feelings. But she meant well, Holly thought.
Or hoped.
Either way, Lisa and Rachel had wrestled her into the tightest, skimpiest pair of jean shorts they could find in the apartment, and a sheer gold halter top. Lisa had done her hair while Rachel did her makeup, and by the time they ushered her out of the off-campus apartment the three of them shared, Holly was halfway to feeling human again.
Now, three neon-colored fruity drinks with little tiny umbrellas later, she's feeling pretty good about the whole thing.
The music is pumping and the lights are pulsing and everywhere she looks there are gorgeous women dancing, hot and sweaty bodies moving to the beat, moving against each other. She and her friends join the mass of bodies on the dance floor, letting themselves flow with the rhythm the DJ in the corner is creating.
Holly dances with several women, each one beautiful and sexy. Some give their names, some their numbers. Some just align their bodies to hers and let the music guide them.
It's fun and it reminds her what it feels like to be wanted, but until she sees the pale blonde moving determinedly through the crowd, Holly can't say she really wants any of these women. Sure, the one who called herself Alyson made her laugh, and the stud with the lip ring whispered all the right words in her ear, but none of them spark a hint of desire.
None of them make her want, make her crave. Not the way just the sight of the blonde does.
Holly moves over to where the woman is standing next to the bar, just on the edge of the crowd. She's tall and thin, and so pale her skin almost glows in the neon of the strobe lights.
She's wearing a skin-tight black dress, and a pair of strappy heeled sandals that Lisa would call "fuck-me heels." And Holly finds herself captivated, absolutely entranced, by the long line of her neck as she throws back the shot of tequila the bartender has just poured.
Holly steps up to the bar, sliding into the small space next to the blonde and signals the bartender for two more. She's never been the kind to initiate, the kind to make the first move, but there's something about this woman that pulls her in, some sort of magnetic attraction that she can't ignore.
And she doesn't want to.
Maybe it's the eyes, those sapphire-blue irises that previously Holly couldn't have believed existed in nature, or maybe it's the quirk of her lips, outlined in vibrant red. Maybe it's the expression on her face, the hint of loneliness, the suggestion of loss.
Maybe it's none of those things, maybe it's something intangible, something mystical.
But Holly can't ignore the pull.
And Holly can't imagine wanting to.
The blonde nods a silent thank you, and then lifts the small glass up to her lips, holding it there, waiting. Waiting for Holly to lift her own, a toast of some sort.
The liquor burns down her throat, but her lust, the desire she feels for this stranger burns hotter, burns stronger. Everything that was missing on the dance floor, Holly finds here, at the bar. She's never felt so strongly attracted to someone before, never. Not the most recent ex-girlfriend, not the one before that, or the casual one night stands she's had along the way.
Nothing and no one has ever made Holly feel the way just the possibility of this woman does.
"Another," the woman asks, and raises her hand for the bartender.
But Holly shakes her head. Any more and she'll lose the last bit of control she still has.
"Get out of here," the blonde says, jerking her head toward the back exit, the one that will lead them out into the alley and the cool night air.
And Holly nods, sparing a brief look back toward the dance floor where Lisa is grinding up against a tall, gorgeous woman and Rachel is dancing by herself, arms raised over her head and a drink in her hand, in the middle of the floor. They won't miss her.
Not halfway down the hallway, but out-of-sight of the dance floor, the blonde spins and presses Holly against the cool brick wall, desperately kissing her with soft lips. And then the woman's tongue is in her mouth, thrusting hard and curling around her own.
Holly feels something curl, and swirl, and release in the depths of her belly, and she moans into the shorter woman's mouth. And then the blonde's hands begin to wander, slipping under the gold fabric of her top and then up, up to grasp at her breasts, kneading and rolling the swollen flesh in her palms.
God, Holly thinks as she bites at the woman's lower lip, and she shudders as the blonde swipes her thumbs roughly over perked and aching nipples. She wants to return the favor, wants to feel this woman's skin against her palms, wants to draw her nails along the smooth skin of the blonde's back and feel the woman arch into her body.
But when she tries, when she tries to touch, the woman pulls back, shakes her head no.
And there's something about her, something in her eyes that has Holly nodding, has Holly agreeing to this imbalanced encounter. This taking without giving.
Those blue eyes burn into her as the blonde leans in to kiss at her lips again, once, just once, before attaching them to the steady beat of her pulse at the base of her neck. Holly throws her head back, not even registering the pain of connecting with the hard wall behind her, as this woman, this beautiful, sexy, hot woman licks and sucks and bites at her skin.
The heavy bass of the music resonates through the bricks in the wall, and slips into her body, throbbing in time with her hard, wet clit, and Holly finds herself thrusting unconsciously into the blonde's hips, seeking some sort of pressure, seeking some sort of relief. She grasps at the woman's perfect ass, and then slowly, slowly works the hem of her partner's dress up, pulling the blonde into her as she does.
And her effort is rewarded when a firm, hot thigh slips between her own legs.
Holly sinks down on it, letting the blonde take her weight, support her against the wall. And then she begins to move, thrusting her hips along the line of the woman's muscled leg, riding her fast and hard. The seam of her jeans hitting her clit in just the right way.
The blonde pushes up the halter top, exposing Holly's breasts, her nipples, to the cool air. She trails tiny bites up the her neck, and then kisses Holly again, slower this time, before dipping her head to take one hard nipple, and then the other, into the heat of her mouth, letting her teeth drag over the sensitive tips. Her hands move to Holly's hips, and settle there, supporting her as Holly's movements grew more frantic, more desperate.
When she starts moaning loudly, unable to keep the sounds of her growing pleasure, her quickly approaching orgasm, the blonde brings up a hand to cover her mouth.
That only pushes Holly further, only excites her more. She works her tongue against the woman's rough palm, tracing the tip along the mounds and ridges there, licking the lines between her fingers, and is please when she hears her tormentor moan in return.
She tilts her hips into the blonde's, her thrusts fast and shallow and desperate as she rocks herself into the other woman's body, every nerve, every synapse, every thought perched on the edge of completion. And as the blonde releases one tight nipple, wet from her ministrations, and takes the other into her mouth, drawing the hard bud in and suckling hard, Holly thrusts once, twice more, and then struggles to hold herself still, her entire body trembling with the force of her orgasm.
She feels her sex clench and release, muscles gripping, contracting around nothing, and aches to be filled, aches for the blonde to slip her long, slim fingers inside. Aches to be full, to be tight, to be stretched around the woman's hand, to feel the heat of her skin inside.
Somewhere behind them there's a noise, a crash, and the blond flinches, jerking her leg and grinding into Holly's clit.
Holly comes again, this time biting down against the hand covering her mouth, the fingers she's drawn between her lips to suck on.
"Fuck," she hears the blonde whisper in pain, the first word she's said since they stood by the bar.
They stand there like that for a long while, Holly's breathing slowly returning to normal, her pulse settling back into it's usual pace while the mysterious, silent, beautiful blonde continues to hold her up, support her weight. Her lips are bruised, Holly knows, from the kisses and then the way the woman began to thrust her fingers in and out of her mouth as Holly whimpered through her second orgasm. Her lips are bruised and her make-up is mussed, and her hair has to be an absolute mess, but she doesn't care.
She doesn't give a damn.
She's the happiest, the most relaxed, the most at peace she's been in a long time. Since long before the latest break-up.
All thanks to this woman, this blonde who pushed and pulled, who gave and gave and gave, taking only Holly's moans, taking only Holly's pleasure in return.
Eventually, they parted, the blonde gently pulling her fingers out of Holly's mouth, slowly lowering her leg before tugging the gold fabric of her top back down over her breasts and smoothing her own skirt back into place. A few swipes of her hand over her hair, and the other woman is looking mostly presentable, almost as if nothing happened in this dim hallway.
But Holly can see the evidence, the smudging of her lipstick, her bottom lip swelling where Holly bit at it. The way the clear blue of her irises has turned dark and stormy, laden with pent up arousal.
"Can I," Holly starts, but the blonde just shakes her head, smiling almost shyly, despite what had just passed between them.
"But how will," she tries again, desperate to know something, anything about this woman that has just set her world on fire.
But the woman just smiles, and shakes her head again, almost in a challenge.
"You'll have to find me," she says, and springs back into the center of the club, Holly quickly losing track of her in the swarm of dancing bodies.
Holly just sighs, and wipes at her lips as she sees Rachel trying to catch her attention.
Looks like they'll be coming back tomorrow.