"Well, honestly. I don't understand why I have to cooperate with Delk at all. Why can't I just give the info to the FBI? Just because Fritzi and I aren't together anymore, doesn't mean I can't still be on good terms with the rest of the L.A branch, right?" Brenda groused, as she stacked the plates and cups in the sink.
"Brenda, it's not as though Delk is out to sabotage your case. He has his own case, and the two of you can share the evidence, because you are, after all, on the same side. Don't work at cross-purposes with him, as he is also on the short list for Chief. He will likely also play nicely, to hedge his own bets. Just…don't let him get to you, okay?" Sharon replied, leaning over to gather the remnants of the wrappers and napkins, moving to deposit them in the trash can.
Brenda had turned, a sharp retort dying on her tongue, as Sharon bent to pick up the debris, and Brenda noticed a saucy little red lacey number peeking out from the still unbuttoned shirt.
"You know, I can clean this up tomorrow." She purred, moving to stand behind Sharon, sliding her hands up, fitting her fingers into the hollows between each rib. "I think we should move this little pow-wow to someplace more comfortable." She pressed her lips against the smooth fabric covering Sharon's shoulder, the sharp citrus tang flooding her nose, sending heat directly to her center.
It had never been like this, Brenda thought, as she slowly peeled the lace from Sharon's breasts, peppering kisses as she bared more skin. The sex she counted—high school fumbling didn't count, and she'd been too focused on college, to really date, so that left a handful of men—had never been so all encompassing. It had been pedestrian with her first long term boyfriend, and she remembered wondering what all the fuss had been about. She dipped her tongue into Sharon's navel, tracing a path wetly to the waistband of those jeans, catching the faint musk of arousal , and she clenched her thighs in defense, making quick work of the buttons, shoving the denim, and the satin panties beneath, down to Sharon's ankles, smirking as the older woman kicked them off. Sex with Will had been adventurous at first, if only because of his tendency to initiate it in stairwells and other places where getting caught was a distinct possibility. Brenda let her tongue follow the dip and crest of a well-defined calf, as she moved steadily towards her goal. Eventually, Will had gotten lazy, and, if she was honest, so had she. By the time she realized he wasn't leaving his wife, they'd been having cursory missionary position sex once a week, and one night, as she lay beneath him, she just couldn't see herself continuing to lie in the same spot, each Thursday, as he sweated away on top of her. That had been the last time she'd had sex with Will Pope.
Nuzzling her nose into auburn curls, Brenda moaned as the scent overwhelmed her. Fritz had been a fan of blow jobs, but he wasn't so keen on reciprocating, and as she licked into Sharon's humid center, she wondered if maybe he wasn't a little daft in the head. Teasing the tight bud with her tongue, she swirled circles, holding Sharon in place at the hips, relishing the weight of those shapely legs resting on her shoulders. Brenda was pretty sure she could make a second job out of this, as she speared her tongue, and thrust it inside of Sharon, her own core flooding at the sounds the dark haired woman was making. She'd always felt like sex needed to be ladylike with Fritz. Like even when she was on top, she was still expected to come first, and quietly, with no improper language, and then let him finish. She slipped two fingers into Sharon, feeling the resultant clench and shudder all the way up to her shoulder. She didn't think Sharon expected her to be ladylike, if the expletives falling from those perfect lips were any indication. Empowered by her realization, she grazed her teeth across Sharon's clit, before sucking it hard into her mouth, and pressing her tongue roughly against it. Brenda thought perhaps, if she applied herself, she might be able to make Sharon actually scream. Grinning at that thought, she moved so that the sensitive nub was trapped between her lips, and hummed in pleasure. Sharon's back arched, her hips snapped forward, thrusting Brenda's fingers deep enough to hit the roughened patch of skin, and she cried out, a long, drawn outsound, possible Brenda's name. Brenda kept up a steady rhythm with her tongue, and her fingers, wondering if she could tease a second orgasm out of Sharon.
"Wait, come up here for a minute," Sharon's voice was rough, and dry from the panting.
"I'm not quite done with dessert, though." Brenda replied, before slipping her tongue back into slickened folds.
"Trust me. Come here." Sharon's elegant fingers twined in Brenda's hair, emphasizing her directive.
"Fine." Brenda deliberately slid her nipples along Sharon's quivering thighs, smirking as the woman gasped beneath her.
"Here, just, like…this," Sharon groaned, as she settled Brenda between her thighs, feeling the velvet heat of their centers touching.
"Holy shit." Brenda whispered, as Sharon rolled her hips experimentally, causing a deliciously silken friction.
"Move with me." Sharon kept her hands on Brenda's hips, guiding the speed, as she raised her head to capture the younger woman's lips in a blistering kiss.
No, it had never, ever been like this, Brenda thought, as Sharon's tongue snaked sensuously along her own. Each thrust of her hips sent jangling bolts of need coursing through her, pooling hotly at the base of her spine. She gasped as Sharon bent one leg around her waist, pressing them even closer, and increasing the pressure. She looked down at the dark haired woman beneath her, the generally stoic, reserved, buttoned down woman, who was writhing against her, turgid nipples brushing against Brenda's with each gyration of their bodies. She buried her face against Sharon's neck, sucking hard at the skin beneath the exquisite slope of her jaw, as she felt the spasms wrack her body, met shudder for shiver by the quaking of the body beneath hers.
Moments passed, as they lay tangled together, the only sound in the room was the slowing of their rapid breathing. Brenda went to slide off of Sharon, mindful of the way it usually felt to her, to have someone treat her like an extension of the mattress. She was surprised to feel stern arms holding her in place.
"Stay here. It's nice, like this." Sharon murmured, turning to place a gentle kiss on Brenda's cheek.
"I don't want to squish you. You tell me when I get too heavy, okay?" Brenda replied, trying to discreetly shift some of her weight to her elbows.
"Mmmmhmm." Sharon drowsed, stroking her fingers over the bumps of Brenda's spine.
"Good. That's good." Brenda nestled her head into the curve of Sharon's shoulder, stifling a yawn. "I hope you brought work clothes for tomorrow."
"They're in my trunk."
"Presumptuous." Brenda quipped.
"I had hopes for breakfast in bed."
"You better go sleep in the kitchen, then."
"Chief? Shut up." Sharon laughed.
"Make me."
So Sharon flipped over, pinning the blonde woman to the mattress, pressing a smirking kiss to her surprised lips.
Brenda kissed back, scowling.
Ohhh. That woman!