AN: Lesbian smut ahead - if not your thing you can just skip it (I'll do a quick one sentence recap in the second AN). I wanted to try to see if I could write it and I also felt it has been a little dry on the sex scene in this story lately. But the reason for that is not so much that there aren't suitable possibilities but a) they say a sex scene in a story should mean something (like an important moment or demonstrate their desire, but I feel all these have been done already - romantic sex, quickies, sad sex, healing sex, angry sex, comfort etc), b) I feel like I've ran out of ideas how to keep it interesting for you (I think I've done most positions, mainstream locations, adding already a fair amount of kink (I have quite a dirty mind so that in itself isn't the issue - there's more where that came from, I just keep thinking what would be more or less in character with these characters that have been and I have created. Also it needs to be acceptable for most readers and normalized enough so I wouldn't get kicked off this site - which sets some challenges.
The knock on Paris' office door irritated her. It was late and had not been a good day. And the least she wanted was someone asking her something they should've been able to handle themselves, that she paid them for.
The company had just gotten a new invoicing system in place two days ago and apparently the system wasn't properly exchanging information with one of the insurance companies and the IT guy who'd be handling it was struggling to find the problem. Paris had been going over the code herself for the past few hours. She was no Python expert but she knew enough to check it for basic mistakes, having had the guy on the line for the most of the time while they went through it together. It was safe to say the IT guy had not handled the pressure too well, when finally Paris hung up on them. Somehow, with Vikki in her life, she was actually feeling a little more self concious about how she treated people, maybe even feeling a shred of symphathy, but she knew that this was not something Vikki had an issue with, having overheard the other day Vikki demand just as high standard of service from her internet provider at home who'd failed to show up in time.
"What?" Paris said with a ten second delay, having only now gotten around to checking through a line that had a missing braket. Her inbox with 44 unread - oh, wait - 46 e-mails, was still unopened for the afternoon, sticking to strick efficient time planning regime by only answering e-mail twice a day. Thankfully, she knew at least ten of them were from pharmaceutical reps, something that didn't need her urgent attention.
Vikki peeked in, knowing from the sound of her that it wasn't one of her better days.
"Any improvements?" Vikki asked, knowing already what shitstorm Paris had been dealing with for the entire day.
Paris took a deep breath. While when she'd first met her, Vikki had seemed intimidating, defencive even, now Vikki's presence was deeply calming, chaning her tone significantly.
"Some," Paris replied, sceptically.
Vikki walked around her desk, no longer asking if she could, placing her arm over Paris' shoulder soothingly.
"It's going to be a long night," Paris speculated, realistically. Thankfully, with a full-time nanny at least one thing she didn't need to worry about was her kids - they were always picked up from school, fed, their homework was done and checked, the kids were happy and entertained. Their clothes were always washed, doctors appointments made and all the information exchange between the school and her filtered, so she wouldn't have to deal with costume making or volunteering operations unless she chose to. She didn't do this every night, work late like this, knowing from her own childhood how important parents' presence was, making it a point to be home early at least 2 nights a week and to those she stuck to no matter what. Weekends were also sacred in their family, usually doing at least a 12 hour internet cleanse, during which they would play boardgames, focus on reading or go on outings together - usually museums or other historic sights. As Doyle had the kids every other, or if he was travelling every third weekend with the kids, she was determined to make those that she had count.
"You work too hard," Vikki murmured, surprising her by allowing her slender fingers to intertwine into her hair from the neck up, glently massaging her, causing Paris' eyes to fall shut and a trail of goosebumps to form on her neck and arms. Her hairstyle was simple enough that it only really took very little soothign to get it looking presentable, hence she didn't mind the least bit if she ruffled her hair. That touch was certainly what she needed.
"Look who's talking," she shot back, squinting her eyes. Vikki was also a prime example of a driven doctor, often reading up on recent developments and going the extra mile that nobody really asked her, being a perfectionist - the difference simply was that she often took work home with her more often and worked at night than stayed late, thinking about her son as well.
Vikki rolled her eyes at her, playfully, a sneaky smile on her lips.
"I'd love to take you out…," Vikki said, her fingers still in the back of Paris' hair.
"Saturday maybe?" Paris suggested. She hated that it was still several days away. She would've much rather seen her, really seen her, much sooner, but she owed her kids the time she'd promised to herself she would give them. Dating was hard while co-parenting. One either waited several weeks between dates until the other parent had the kids for a weekend or holidays, as it was arranged so in both of their cases, and then too those times had to match, or one got a nanny, and a preferably hotel room.
"Goodwin?" Vikki suggested, having dragged, if coming very willingly could be called that, Paris over to the hotel in question already one evening as a surprise for a couple of hours.
It was definitely tempting and the place was very nice, perhaps even too nice for the end of a simple date, but apparently Vikki had some aquaintances at play at the place so it didn't seem to be a huge deal for her to arrange it.
"Or maybe we could just have dinner at your place, I could even bring the kids maybe? I could drop them off later, put them to bed and sneak back?" Paris suggested, squinting her eyes hesitantly, unsure how she would take it. Paris really was feeling rather guilty about spending so many evenings at work, and now more with Vikki. But she at least had the benefit of a live-in nanny, which meant she had the option of sneaking out in the middle of the night if she wanted to.
Vikki gave her a crooked smile, unsure what to say.
"What? Too common for you?" Paris mumbled, some residue of her earlier stress surfacing. She didn't always read people well. She didn't want to hide her or start playing house, she was just trying to compromize.
"That's how it starts you know…," Vikki noted.
"Does what start? The kids know each other already," Paris said. That was the easy part about being in a relationship like this - unless they did anything that made it obvious or announced it, their kids wouldn't really take it as anything else than two friends and their kids having dinner together.
"Becoming the stereotype. Next, one of us is getting the U-haul," Vikki chuckled. She wasn't seriously suggesting it, but she could see it happening in theory. It was very easy to get attached to someone who seemed so similar.
"Oh please, it's just dinner," Paris protested. "This way I'll feel a tiny bit less like an absent mother," she admitted, sounding self-critical. But she knew that Vikki understood.
Vikki had noted before that Pairs took this part of her relationship with her kids seriously, almost to the minute. She didn't yet know the full story behind it, just being aware that Paris didn't really interact much with her own parents.
"I'm sorry - I didn't mean anything negative with it. Dinner at my place sounds great, bringing the kids is fine too," she corrected, realizing Paris was regretting having suggested it because of her reaction. Sure, having kids around limited somewhat what they spoke about and how physical they were, but they could still be around each other, learn about each other, and the idea about sneaking back - what's there to hate? - adding a dash of excitement into their lives as well on top of everything.
"I'll make it up to you, I promise," Paris replied, pulling her face down towards her, and kissed her.
"Mmm..," Vikki hummed. "Any hope I can take that promise now," she smiled sneakily, and kissed her again. Her tongue tasted sweet and very warm, deliciously making the day's stressors fade into the background. Her arms caressed Paris' neck, one of them barely brushing over her left breast.
Paris shook her head, with a broad closed mouthed smile on her face, but it wasn't very convincing.
Vikki walked over to the door next. "Just say the word, and I'll go," she offered her an out, her hand waiting on the door handle, being fairly confident she wouldn't.
Paris replied by standing up herself and walking around her desk, towards her. She was making her do crazy things. Paris pulled her close and kissed her more fiercely now, her hands that held her waist pushing her against the door. Her left hand released the grip on her momentarily and snapped the door lock to it's horizontal position quietly. So much for not fooling around at the office like the company policy stated.
"Did I tell you I love this skirt on you?" Vikki asked in whisper, her eyes glancing briefly down to Paris' stretchy dark green pencil skirt that had a slit going up one thigh.
It wasn't really a question that required an answer, as Paris was already busy with Vikki's fern patterned blouse buttons, who had already come in without her lab coat like she usually wore. Paris had never really had a fascination with breasts besides how they functioned, out of professional and personal interest while breasfeeding her twins in the beginning, but somehow with the full package, being stimulated also mentally, she truly appreciated the sensuality of them, feeling her stiff pert nipples even through her lightly padded seamless bra. Vikki's breasts were definitely smaller than hers, but that even made the firmness of the nipples even more so alluring.
Vikki unbuttoned the two buttons at the collar of Paris' while tencel blouse and soon the item was discarded onto a coffee table nearby. Lips battled, tongues exploring each other's mouths as the remainder of their clothes, or at least those absolutely necessary to be removed, were stripped.
Paris' lips were trailing down her neck and cleavage, her perfume, Nomade Chloé, burning intoxicatingly in her nose, Vikki's head falling back, almost wanting to praise Paris for being a quick study, as she felt her wet fingers delve between her moist lips, caressing just the right spots.
For Paris it was still a little odd - like there was something missing that one would encounter with a man when acting on desire, but it was more about what she'd grown accustomed to it rather than something she missed. Men's bodies were straightforward - enough of the same would simply lead to climax, but with her, unable to speak for women in general, it was like a delicate combination of keys and strings that needed to be played - right order, intensity and frequency. It was like learning a new instrument.
But those brief thoughts were shiftly pushed aside, her sweet odor awakening her more urgent needs. She wanted to taste her, she wanted to forget herself in her. She backed Vikki up to her desk, guiding her to sit on the edge, and sank down onto her knees abruptly tearing her thigh-highs slightly. But instead of cursing, like anyone would expect from her, she observed impatiently as Vikki allowed her underwear to drop and pushed her hands against the tops of her thighs, spreading them.
Vikki's hips rolled, craving her touch, and Paris really only hesitated for a second. It was still something she didn't quite feel she'd perfected, hence feeling a little intimidated at the task. Her lips landed first on her clit, kissing it gently, adding a bit of tongue, as if kissing her mouth. That she could do. Moving slightly lower long streaks followed, before returning, her arms wrapped around her hips, keeping her in place. She kept that up for several minutes.
"Fuck," Paris heard her mutter, her eyes shut and biting her lip, causing her to grin between her ministrations.
Vikki's lips were puffy and wet as she reached her tongue inside her, causing her to gasp. Paris could sense her fingers in her hair, each gentle stroke on her neck and scalp, adding to her pleasure of giving.
Her lips kissed Vikki's lower lips again and her practical, short, perfectly manicured fingers penetrated her, arching towards the anterior wall of her vagina. Her theory, knowledge of anatomy and how things were supposed to work was excellent, now she just needed to focus on playing that instrument in practice. She continued her movements, reaching further in a couple of inches - G spot was for beginners, she was going for the A-spot.
The clenching of her thighs against her face was a good sign, so was the slight tremble in Vikki's legs, accompanied by heavy breathing, and the way her walls squeezed her fingers that were pistoning in and out of her at that point was a really good sign.
"Ahh…!" Vikki moaned, perhaps a little more loudly than she'd expected to. "Yes!" she panted, having corrected the pitch of her voice a little, coming down from her high, and glancing down at that smug face who was feeling very victorious.
Vikki pulled her up and wrapped her leg around Paris' hip, her arms holding her close. Vikki kissed her, tasting herself on her. "Good girl," she whispered to her ear, causing her to soak through her panties as if she wasn't already.
"I actually got something today," Paris said, as she stayed in the arms of her still panting girlfriend, allowing her to gather herself.
"For me?" she asked with surprise.
"Either of us," Paris replied huskily, and reached over her desk towards her drawer where she kept her purse.
"Well, that certainly is something," Vikki looked over the teal green We-Vibe clit vibrator that she took out from its container. "We should do a comparative study on these one of these days," she said, teasingly, "I have a bunch of these at home, but this is certainly something new," she replied, and swiftly switched the device on and trailed it's vibrating edge from Paris's neck down over her nipples, along her side and into her panties, without fully removing them. It wasn't that she wasn't willing to return the favor without assistance, it was just another way, something new and exciting and for them also the first toy they'd used together.
Paris clung onto her shoulders, just one of Vikki's hands pressed between them, controlling the device as it moved back and forth inside her underwear, causing her sensations to alternate from sweet ecstasy to a state of oblivion, and her face really spoke better than any words could. It was the quickest climax she'd ever reached, which of course had not been the intention, and probably one of the most intense ones, knowing for future reference to take it a little slower next time. But in this case, it was the quick release that she's needed after being turned one from the second Vikki had touched her.
They laughed a little, still staying in each-other's embrace. Soon they gathered up their clothing, and straightened themself up, being each-other's mirrors, as if nothing had happened. Nobody else would know, but they would know - they knew what each wrinkle on their clothes meant, each blush and each messy strand of hair stood for.
"Saturday with the kids then," Vikki said and exited the room, with a crooked smile.
AN: okay, so if you skipped this chapter then just the recap of this is that Paris is stuggling a little with fitting Vikki into her schedule, not wanting that time to come from the time she has with her kids. Hence they're moving rather quickly - deciding to have dinner wiht the kids the next time as a 'date'.