As much as getting older had always been an unavoidable eventuality, Emily had spent much of her life pushing her age to the back of her mind. Maybe it was because she'd always been too busy to think about it. Maybe it was because she'd watched her mother doing everything in her power to maintain a facade of youth. Maybe it was just her own flawed psyche.
Whatever the reason, she found it creeping up on her faster than she would have liked.
The first thing had been the glasses. It wasn't that she looked bad wearing glasses, she was just stubborn. She didn't want to admit that she needed them and thus spent far longer than wise or necessary squinting, rather than acknowledge the truth of her declining vision.
The second thing had been the grey hair. It didn't matter how many times Tara reassured her that she found her beautiful regardless of the colour of her hair, she couldn't seem to make her peace with it. She'd spent so many years dying it, doing her best to pretend and ignore and disguise, but eventually – during the pandemic – she'd just fallen out of the habit and let the grey take over.
The most insidious thing, though, was menopause. Partly because it killed her just a little to know that she'd never have a child of her own. Partly because her normally rampant libido quickly disappeared. And, worst of all, the anorgasmia that came with it. It was frustrating and insidious and depressing.
Tara repeatedly told her that it didn't matter to her – that an orgasm wasn't the point of sex, although it certainly made it more enjoyable – but Emily remained unconvinced... She'd tried everything she could think of to deal with her depleting hormone levels (short of actually talking to a medical professional), but nothing had helped.
("What about marijuana?" Tara had suggested one night.
Emily had raised a pointed brow. "I don't think Federal Agents are supposed to endorse drug use..." she'd said dryly.
Tara just laughed. "Are you going to tell on me?")
Emily flopped back on the bed, giggling as she exhaled smoke towards the open window.
"Hey, be careful with that joint, stoner," Tara teased, "Don't want to set the bed on fire..."
"Just with passion, right?" she said with a snort of amusement.
Tara rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "I think you're officially high," she said, taking the joint from her and taking a drag, then setting it in the ashtray on her nightstand. "Feel anything?"
Emily thought on that for a moment, then shrugged. "Hard to stay. I mean stay. Say!" she said, taking a few tries to get the word right. Then, she burst out laughing again.
"You're goofy when you're high," Tara said fondly, then leaned in to kiss her. The kiss was chaste at first, but quickly turned passionate, Emily's hands frenzied and frantic over Tara's body in their search for purchase.
Finding what she was searching for, she tangled her fingers in Tara's hair, nails scraping across her scalp, eliciting a little whine from Tara's lips. Her other hand slid under Tara's tank top, exploring the planes of her stomach, then up to her breast.
"Em, it's okay," Tara reassured her, pulling back from the kiss, "We don't have to..."
She moved to catch her lips once again, silencing her protests. "I want to," she rasped between kisses. "I want this..."
"There's no pressure," Tara started to insist, in spite of her eager agreement, "There's never..."
"I know," Emily said, pulling back far enough to fix her with a serious look. A beat. Then, in a smaller voice, "I trust you, Tara. Completely."
That, apparently was enough reassurance because, in the next moment, she'd rolled them so Emily was pinned beneath her. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," she breathed, moving to trail kisses down her throat, down the valley between her breasts. At the same moment, her hand trailed along Emily's thigh to drag her knuckles between her thighs, bringing them away slick. "Want to taste?"
She whined, nodded eagerly, accepting Tara's fingers into her mouth and laving them with her tongue, sucking off every last drop.
"Good girl," Tara purred, removing her fingers so she could kiss her once again, stealing the gasp Emily made as she slid her fingers into her dripping cunt. "You feel so good, Em," she said, pulling back to fix her with a lascivious grin, watching the way her face contorted in ecstasy as she began moving her fingers.
"Don't stop, Tara, please..." she begged, moving her hips – slow at first, then faster, chasing after her fingers and the promise of cumming.
"Feels good, don't it?" Tara said, "You want more?"
She nodded desperately.
Tara chuckled. "Poor girl wants to cum so damn bad, huh?"
She nodded again, pouting, pleading.
"You've waited a long time, haven't you? You deserve to feel good..." Emily couldn't seem to form words in her desperate need, but she writhed beneath her, nearly sobbing with want. Tara raised a brow as she pinned her hip to the bed, keeping her legs spread with her knees. "If you want to cum, just say so..."
"T-Tara..." she whined, "I-I want..."
"What do you want, Baby?" she taunted. "Use your words..." Huffing in frustration, Emily pouted up at her, doing her best to convince her with her best puppy dog eyes. "You can do better than that, Baby."
She practically sobbed. "Tara, please," she choked out, "I need to cum..."
"Such a good girl," Tara praised, her thumb finding her clit, eliciting a gasp, then a moan. "You can cum, Baby," she coaxed. She latched her lips on Emily's breast, sucking a bright purple bruise to the surface, the scraping her teeth along the bruise. She repeated the action with her other breast, leaving a matching mark.
With the stimulation of Tara's fingers and her lips and teeth, it didn't take long for Emily to climax, her back arching off the bed, her hips twitching, cunt spasming. "Jesus Christ, Tara!" she gasped as her muscles went slack and she collapsed back on the bed.
"I don't like to say: I told you so, but..." Tara said with a playful grin.