V1.01
A brisk November evening found Angie stepping light-heartedly from a theater with Peggy in tow. It was cold, and as she clutched her lapels a bit tighter she pointedly stared at her friend's jacket, draped casually over the woman's arm.
"Aren't you cold?" she asked as she stepped to the curb to hail a taxi.
"Not at all," Peggy assured her.
Angie shrugged as a taxi pulled to a stop beside her. The two of them slid into the back, Peggy giving their address in East Harlem.
Much of the ride was silent, and Angie noted the way Peggy watched the rearview mirror and how the woman's eyes would narrow when they met the driver's. Angie gave up counting how long the exchange carried on once they reached five minutes, but was glad to feel that her girlfriend eventually relaxed into the seat beside her.
She touched Peggy's hand, hoping to make sure everything was all right. It was the squeeze she received in return, and Peggy maneuvering her coat to cover their joined hands, that finally put Angie's mind at ease. With a sigh, the waitress gave a short squeeze back and melted into the cushion behind her.
She closed her eyes, head against the seatback, and reveled in the warmth and comfort of Peggy's fingers twined with her own. She felt the older woman shift beside her, but Angie kept her eyes closed and her head tilted back, figuring Peggy was just getting a bit more comfortable.
Then she felt it.
A soft, but firm pressure that started at her foot and steadily climbed higher. The fleeting feeling of warmth that bled through two layers of nylon and dissipated again a moment later. The sudden sensation of Peggy's toenail scraping against her calf through their hose.
Angie's eyes flew open and she looked to Peggy, who—for all appearances—was carefully watching the rearview mirror. Her mouth worked soundlessly, wanting to ask the Englishwoman beside her exactly what she was doing, but also not wanting to get caught. She glanced at Peggy, then to the driver, and back again several times over. It wasn't until the fifth pass that Peggy finally glanced over and caught her eye.
The glint in her lover's gaze was at once purposeful and mischievous, and Angie found her heart had jumped into her throat at the sight. It was almost always bad news when Peggy got that look about her. The woman even had the audacity to fire a saucy wink at her right before she turned back to staring at the driver through the mirror.
Angie's own eyes slid over to the mirror to glimpse their driver, who was very studiously ignoring them and watching the road. He seemed almost unnerved, Angie thought; most likely the result of his staring contest with Peggy.
A tickle against her thigh brought Angie's attention back to her companion. To her displeasure, Peggy was still looking dead ahead, a bland expression on her lovely face. Then Peggy glanced her way once more, the look in her eyes giving way to something dark and sinful. The following quirk of her velvety red lips sent a jolt through Angie, her skin prickling into gooseflesh in anticipation.
Beneath the coat, Peggy's fingers danced up her thigh, perfectly polished nails scraping against Angie's skin. Angie felt her pulse leap when the older woman toyed with the hem of her skirt. She felt the digits roll against the skin of her thigh and wrap into the fabric of her skirt until Peggy ever-so-slowly dragged it towards her hips.
Angie's eyes went wide, and she looked incredulously at Peggy. Here? she tried to convey, her panicked gaze shooting to their driver. Now?
Peggy's smile grew into something absolutely wicked, and her eyes glinted dangerously. Her eyebrow twitched a bit higher at Angie, almost as if to say Why not?
Which was all the warning Angie had before Peggy's fingers were firmly caressing her inner thigh and working their way higher. Angie bit her lip against the light gasp that tried to escape her.
Then those nails dragged across the material of her unmentionables, deliciously stimulating the flesh beneath. The electric feeling it elicited swept through the pit of her stomach and pooled with a wet warmth where Peggy was methodically stroking.
Angie swallowed a groan and fisted a hand in her own jacket. Her cheeks flamed as Peggy pressed against her clit, finger roving in slow circles against the bundle of nerves. Her hips jerked of their own accord, the rest of her body following suit.
Miraculously, the driver made no indication of noticing Angie's sudden spasm, for which she was unendingly grateful as she bit the inside of her cheek against the sensation of Peggy working her over.
Her heartbeat stopped the moment she felt Peggy hook her fingers around the crotch of her knickers and tug them aside, her eyes rolling back and her mouth dropping open noiselessly when Peggy slid through her wet folds. And just when her heart stuttered back to life she felt the insistent pressure of one of Peggy's fingers against her entrance.
"Stop the cab!" she choked out, and the driver slammed the brakes and pulled over. The moment they were stopped, she was shoving Peggy away from her and towards the door. The older woman discreetly wiped her hands against her jacket while Angie quickly fixed her skirt.
"Hey, Lady, what's the problem? This ain't East Harlem!"
"Sorry, Mister," she said. "Car sick." When Peggy finally opened the door and stepped out, Angie bolted out right behind her and marched down the street. She listened as Peggy paid the fare, wishing the cab driver a good evening before he pulled away.
A few paces later, when Peggy approached her and asked "What was that about?" with a light chuckle, Angie grabbed her wrist and hauled her into an alley. She shoved the taller woman into a stone wall, immediately surging forward to meld their lips together.
"You know exactly what that was about!" she growled into Peggy's mouth.
Another chuckle—breathy this time—spurred Angie on, her small hands grabbing none-too-gently at Peggy's neat pencil skirt and rucking it up to her hips. She pressed another burning kiss to Peggy's lips, their teeth clattering together a few times and the taller woman nipping at Angie's tongue at one point, before she trailed to her neck and bit down.
The sting of Peggy's unbelievably strong grip on her shoulders and the choked grunt she let loose was enough to make Angie grin against her fair skin. She clutched at Peggy's waist, pressing her more fully against the wall, and pushed one of her legs between the other woman's.
"Angie," Peggy breathed.
Another bite to her girlfriend's neck, and Angie maneuvered one of her hands away from Peggy's hip to pull her knickers out of the way. She passed a finger over the woman's sex, delighted to find her already slick with want—no doubt an effect of their game in the taxi. A second pass to wet her fingers, and Peggy's hips bucked gently against Angie's hand.
"Angie!" Peggy begged.
"I thought you liked games," Angie sassed, darkly. A glare and a tight squeeze on her wrist were all the answer Angie got before Peggy forcefully guided her hand right where she needed it.
Angie watched Peggy gasp and jolt at the feeling of two fingers inside her. She'd been set on payback, but watching the woman before her shake with need, she couldn't help the impulse to see her come undone. And so, she curled her fingers and pressed her thumb to Peggy's clit, a guttural and unrestrained moan her reward.
She didn't bother with being gentle, there would be plenty of time for that when they got home. Instead, she worked her entire arm, rocking Peggy onto her toes, the woman's head and shoulders rolling against the stone wall.
Every curl of her fingers and every thrust of her arm elicited a gasp or a grunt from Peggy. A twisting heat bloomed low in Angie's stomach and spread pleasantly as she looked over the flushed curve of her lover's cheek. She leaned in and cooed something nonsensical near Peggy's ear before she kissed the woman's jawline. The hand that remained on Peggy's hip encouraged her to rock against Angie's hand—the younger woman's leg propped behind it and offering a stronger pressure than she would normally be able to deliver.
Peggy was steadily becoming much more vocal in her approval and, though Angie briefly worried they would be discovered, the waitress urged the woman on. "I've got you, Peg," Angie told her through a pant. The pain in her shoulder was nearing unbearable—just the way she liked it, in these moments—as Peggy's grip tightened. She felt the woman's other hand snaking up her neck and to her hair to grip just as ferociously. "I've got you!" she repeated.
"Fuck!" Peggy growled low through clenched teeth as her eyes squeezed shut. Angie could just make out the beginning fluttering of muscles around her fingers.
"I've got you!" she said again, the desperation to see her partner wrecked slipping into her voice. She flicked her thumb a bit harder over Peggy clit and jerked her fingers with a little more force.
"Fuck! Bloody—FUCK!" Peggy cried, voice several octaves higher and echoing through the alley.
"That's it," Angie eased, working her lover through the spasms of her climax. "That's it," she murmured sweetly, even as she felt Peggy's fingers digging into her scalp. She smiled at the throaty groans that continued to reverberate off the walls, a primal sort of satisfaction filling her chest. "I have you, sweetheart. That's it."
When Peggy's grip began to loosen, Angie pressed herself close and nestled her head under the woman's chin, content to just breathe her in. For several long minutes, they stayed that way, Angie craning her neck to kiss the underside of the woman's jaw.
Then, as the twitching around her fingers subsided, she carefully withdrew and moved her lips to Peggy's to drink up a disappointed moan. Angie guided the kiss, soft and sweet, as she rubbed soft circles into Peggy's hip with the pad of her thumb.
They split with a soft pop, and Peggy sighed as she leaned their foreheads together. "Minx," she whispered, a smile on her face.
Angie grinned and dragged Peggy in for another kiss. "You started it," she reminded, lips moving against her lover's. Another kiss, heady with the want simmering in the pit of Angie's stomach. "Now let's get home. I'm cold," she muttered as she stepped away from Peggy. She bent to retrieve the Englishwoman's coat from the ground—and, really, when had thathappened?—brazenly tossing a wink over her shoulder.
It was only moments later, as they helped one another straighten up, that she hoped they didn't end up in the same cab as before.