Okay. So it didn't go quite as planned. Marissa jumped the gun and Summer got freaked out for a few seconds. But Summer's smart, she's adaptable, and she knows when to keep her mouth shut and just go with it.

She's not keeping her mouth shut at the moment, because Marissa's tongue is in it.

And it's exactly the way she'd imagined it. Marissa's fragile against her, thin arms and sharp ribs and Summer doesn't even care because Marissa's sliding a knee up between her thighs, a hand between her shoulder blades and her bra's dropping to the floor. She's not thinking about moving her hips but she must be, because she's rocking and Marissa's hip bone is grinding just above her clit, and she pulls Marissa toward the bed because staying upright is just too hard right now.

She expected everything to be so graceful, but she underestimated the difficulty of removing her jeans (why, why did she wear jeans instead of a skirt?) with Marissa writhing on top of her. She loses the rhythm, and then discovers that Marissa's leg is tangled up with the jeans, and she's half-falling off the bed, and it's all so far from the violins-and-candles plan that she just starts laughing.

Marissa's laughing, too, pulling Summer's jeans off and dropping her own skirt to the floor and Oh. The bra wasn't the only piece of clothing she left off. Summer wonders idly if that's was a one-time thing.

"No," says Marissa when Summer reaches for her own thong. She slides her lips up Summer's calf, nips the crease of her knee, licks up the inside of her thigh, and when Marissa tugs on the strap of her thong with her teeth Summer forgets how to breathe.

She whispers, "Please," under her breath when Marissa licks her, just one long slow lick and Marissa chuckles and licks again, and slips a finger inside and presses up, and Summer never imagined she was so easy but she's already coming.

She opens her eyes again (funny, she doesn't remember closing them) to see Marissa leaning over her, a smug grin on her face. Turnabout is fair play, Summer thinks, and rolls Marissa beneath her, one hand already sliding down between her legs.

Summer knows what it feels like, of course; she's touched herself plenty of times, but touching someone else is different. She's amazed at how soft Marissa is, how easily her fingers slip in.

She's a little afraid to go down on Marissa, but she's dumped guys over similar hesitation and she's not about to be hypocritical. So she bends her head down before she can get any more nervous, closes her yes, and just goes for it.

It's… well, it's not the most pleasant thing she's done, but Marissa's got good personal hygiene, and the way she's bucking her hips up into Summer's mouth definitely makes it worthwhile. And she's making these breathy little moans and half-formed words, and Summer's getting wet again just listening.

She swirls her tongue experimentally, and Marissa yelps and practically crushes Summer's head between shaking thighs.

Okay then. She'll definitely do that again.

Marissa's heels are pressing against the small of Summer's back, and when she comes she jerks and kicks so hard that Summer thinks for a moment that her back might be broken. That'd be fun to explain. But then Marissa's legs fall away from around her neck, and she can sit up.

She works the cramp out of her neck to the sound of Marissa's breath gradually slowing.

Marissa's still spread out across the bed. The afternoon light hits the curve of her neck, painting her skin white and gold; Summer thinks she's never looked better. Like a china doll.

Marissa turns her head, untangles her fingers from the covers, pushes her arms above her head and stretches. Her voice is still a little trembly, but her hands are steady as she reaches up to Summer: "Again."

Summer smiles and lets herself be pulled into the kiss. She thinks maybe Marissa's smarter than she gave her credit for.

fin