(Christ, it's LITERALLY been years, hasn't it?! Well, lack of motivation tends to kill off a lot of people's work. The least I can do, after bringing you all so far, is at least grant you some mercy by finishing this fucker off. I've planned at least two more chapters to this, so here's the first. So, no apologies. Let's just cut to the chase. RIGHT. NOW.)

DARIA'S POV

There's a fire in her eyes, transfixing me, and I chew my lip, feeling her hand briskly brushing across my chest to find the zipper to my coat. Admittedly, I'm afraid. Not because with this frail state of mind and judgment, thanks to the Kriek Boon and Crabbies, tampering with the chances of us placing our relationships on a whole new current and flow. I'm unnerved because I'm sure just exactly HOW Jane is planning to do it. Those images embedded firmly into my mind, but with that consideration, as well as noting and knowing neither me nor Jane would seek to hurt each other intentionally (particularly as this was both our first time, as far as I know anyway), I feel minor ease come over me, knowing I would be in trusted hands. Apparently, my discomfort is visual, as her brows furrow into a concerned frown and her other hand reaches to hold my cheek, as she moves to straddle my hips. There's this paralyzing weight in my stomach and chest, and my heart thuds intensely against it's skeletal prison bars. As she motions to lean closer, anticipating the meeting of our lips, my fists clench hard at my sides and I freeze up, only to feel her gently nuzzling my nose with hers. Is she playing with me or trying to help me relax?

I feel bad.

Am I making her feel like some kinda criminal for wanting this? I hate that my doubts get in the way so often. For once, I give a 'fuck you' to those hindering thoughts and move to tilt my head up to capture her lips. It's a lightning-quick moment that stuns both myself AND her. However, as soon as that confidence arose, it faded again, and I quickly turn around out of some form of sheer embarrassment, before she quickly seizes me. I involuntarily express a timid whimper, as she grabs my wrist and holds it behind me like some form of arrest, confining restraint, and we both move to kneel on the bed. She holds me to her and I feel my breath come out in adrenaline-fueled, slightly panicked pants. Glancing over my shoulder at her, her cheeks have a stark smear of red and those eyes seem to have become more dark and intense as before. Her other hand brings the metallic accessory down until it unlatches the binding of my green cotton and she begins to relieve me of the clothing fast becoming a too hot hold for my skin. I'm dumbfounded by the rapid pace, but I don't say anything unless I put her off. What I'm more shocked at, however, is how willing I am to let her do as she pleases. Once the coat has left me, the clutches of the cuffs freeing me, she whispers in my ear. "Yo, Daria... you sure you're okay with this?"

Thank god Trent is practicing downstairs, offering us a decent audio masking to our intense moment. The bass vibrates through the floorboards, giving the disillusionment that my own heartbeat, that's pulsing and buzzing in my ears, is attributing to the somewhat de-realizing factor in this surreal passage of time: as if me and my friend have somehow detached ourselves from the laws of nature and have bubbled or cocooned ourselves in a living, breathing room devoid of any real instance of time. Fuck me. When did my mind get so hazy beyond logical comprehension? Is that the booze? Is this seriously why people blame it for all their own flaws and ailments? I guess now I understand why.

"Daria?"

Crap. She's still waiting for an answer. I swallow back a witty comeback, seeing it isn't the appropriate opportunity for such exchanges. She's sincere in this after all, and I wanna let her know I am too. "Y-yeah... just, y'know, take it easy on me"

She smiles and presses a heated kiss to my neck. Her arms snake around me again and I shiver, feeling her hand travel up my t-shirt, caressing my stomach. Not going immediately for the chest, huh? I'm kinda glad. No way am I insecure, but I ain't exactly proud about my physique either. Jane won't judge, I'm sure of it, but knowing what she's like, she'll want to play with my expectations like putty in a fun-factory shape-make toy. There's a strange vibe in the air, and it ain't just the sounds of the bass and riffs the guys are roaring downstairs. Her movements are slow and careful, but there's almost like this strong affirmation with each touch. Like an unspoken assertion of her dominance. Bizarrely, I find it titillating. Is she enacting the performance of the ladies in her book? It's likely. Perhaps she thinks I'm expecting it from her too.

I turn to kiss her again, just as she's about to reach my chest, and I delve my hands beneath her red jacket's collar, easing off the colours, till she's left in her black top, which she eagerly begins to peel off and lift over her head. Taken aback by her swift movements, I emit a quiet, but blatant "woah", as I feel my cheeks burn and she presses her fingertips to my chest, forcing me down on the bed to be on top of again, only this time, between my legs. She leans to kiss at my throat again, only this time there's teeth and I produce a tiny moan. She proceeds to nip my flesh, her palms taking advantage of my instinctive raise of my hips to caress and rub along my body, before she hooks her digits onto the rim of my own top and goes to remove that from me too.

I wished she'd kill the lights already. It's kinda intimidating, and hurting my eyes, having myself spotlighted so intensely as this. "Cold amiga?" she pries, noticing that my shivers transcend further than just out of the pleasure of feeling her fingertips.

"Anticipating the aftermath of amnesia after I've boarded your spacecraft" I respond weirdly, almost bitterly.

She's confused at first at the extraterrestrial joke, then it finally dawns on her and she switches on a lamp on the bedside drawers, before leaving the cushy bed to flick the bedroom lights off. "Sorry"

I don't get why she feels the need to look at me so much. While it's less illuminating and kinder on the eyes, it still comes across as studious. Don't these things usually happen in the dark?

"Better?" she coos, her silky tone that was beginning to develop having reverted back to it's normalcy. I'm fighting the urge to make an alien autopsy joke, but I've tampered with the mood enough already and I don't want her to stop. "Daria... are you sure you're okay? You've been pretty... quiet"

I blush hard at the acknowledgment. Is it better I talk or not? I can't tell at this point, but I feel I'll make things worse. "Um... I'm just... throwing the ball in your court on this one since I'm not really sure what to do with myself"

She looks a little hurt and worried at my seemingly submissive, or maybe even dismissive, attitude. "Dude, I can stop"

I frown, finding perhaps it's better I do talk. "I didn't tell you to stop"

With that I reached up and pulled her into a kiss, my fingers threading into her silky raven nest of hair. Our hands go wild, going to attend to every inch of skin we can lay our paws on and I'm amused by the projected squeaks of surprise from my friend, as my kissing gets bolder and I find myself nipping her bottom lip, as some reciprocation for the nibbling at my neck earlier. My lips feel hers curve into a smile and I moan into her mouth, feeling the heat in the room raise even more. There's definitely no chance I'm cold anymore.

While so many preventive thoughts would've clouded my thought process before about this kind of thing, particularly being with another woman (and my best friend at that), my head was refreshingly vacant with such pestering hornets of reason. I hadn't felt like this before, but these times aren't made for thinking I guess. It was about emotions and feeling. It was rejuvenating, with a sting of self condescending, to affirm I was just like everyone else in that respect.

That vacancy in my thought expands, as there's a movement that causes me to cry out and I slap a hand across my mouth and develop a fierce blush and scowl at my companion who snickers. Sitting up slightly, her cool mane has slightly frizzled with jutting spikes provoked by slithers of sweat, and her hands clamp onto my knees, as she brings her hips forward again into mine, transmitting that spellbound sensation that renders me speechless. I can't stop the stupid noises, despite masking my mouth with my hand. They keep escaping and the redness on my face spreads like some contagion, as Jane continues thrusting into me.

While some may be confused as to why I'm reacting such a way despite there being no,... well, men's 'equipment' in the equation, to elaborate, it's the sensation of her movement that rattles me. The rhythmic taps between our still-clothed regions, hitting a particular spot that makes me whine, like that painfully infuriating pitch that Britney spouts on a daily basis. I hate myself for knowing I could make such sounds and it seems more humiliating knowing I made them in front of Jane, who seems to be drinking in the experience with too much delight.

"Must you be so conceited?" I pant, parting the connection between my mouth and palm just barely for me to mutter out a sentence.

"Only because I've barely started, Morgendorffer" she chuckles. "Mellow out, amiga. Just enjoy yourself"

"The least I could- Ahn! DO is return the favor" I press, trying to sit up, but Jane grabs instead at my waist, making it difficult.

She leans in to me, inches away from my face, with that smug-ass smirk. "Only if you think you can" she teases with a seductive lure.

I feel like such a pet of sorts. "H-how do you- Jane!" I exclaim, reaching clasp her bare back, as she thrusts faster, more firmly into my groin. I can feel the uncomfortable wetness in my underwear. I want Jane to stop, but at the same time, I don't. The rough movement causes my frames to shift and clutch awkwardly to my face. Jane notices and does me the honor of carefully taking them and placing them on the bedside, before continuing. Her weight bares on me, trapping me and she brings us back down, with her on top. Keeping my legs spread, my heart flutters, as I hear her grunt aggressively in my ear.

I can't find my voice anymore. Im suffocating. My face is on fire. I just want Jane to keep going. There's this sensation in my groin, or more so just above it. It's a familiar feeling that causes some alarm and I start to panic a little. It's approaching faster, like some bubbling. An anticipation of some volcanic eruption. It gets stronger and stronger.

"Jane... Jane... Jane!" I cry out, and the moment arrives. My whole body, in a split moment feels transcendent. My region is wrapped with an electrical pulse that tantalises every delicate point within me. When I feel my friend bring herself down one last time to meet my hips with hers, that connection shoots an astonishing jolt throughout my body and I cry out again, louder. She seems to know I've reached that point and brings herself to a stop, letting me reach up for her and hold her close, burying my face in her shoulder.

The buzzing of Trent's first rehersal comes to a stop and the room is still again.

End of Part Three