Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Annie’s breaths came in pants. It was all so hot: Lola’s blond hair splashed over the carpet. Her desperate whimpers and moans. Her tan lines. Her fucking tan lines.
“You feel so good,” Annie whispered, Lola’s nipple in her mouth.
Lola started bucking, her hands fisting Annie’s hair, holding her in place.
“Oh god. Oh god,” Lola panted, her voice reedy and desperate. “I think I’m going to come.”
From just nipple play? Annie felt like a superhero.
She increased her pressure, rubbing Lola’s swollen nipple as Lola kept squirming and panting and crying out.
She started to climax, her cries increasing in volume.
“Yes. Fuck. Yes. Fuck.” Her body jerked, everything getting frantic. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Oh fuck.”
She was screaming. With single-minded focus, Annie kept sucking and licking and biting Lola’s tits as her orgasm peaked, noisily, gloriously, then, slowly, began to recede.
They lay on the carpet, both breathing hard. Annie’s mind spun in amazement. She’d never come from something like that herself or been with anyone where that’d happened. Pride ballooned into her chest and limbs.
Lola came back into herself, her golden eyes wide and fixed on Annie in disbelief. “What was that?”
Annie was just as surprised. Lying on one side, she propped her head up with one hand. “Proof I am the world’s best lover?” She skimmed her hand down Lola’s arm. “I didn’t know you could do that. Nip-gasms. A breast-max.”
“I didn’t know I could do that, either,” Lola said, a hand pressed to her forehead, a look of total shock etched on her face. “That was the first time.”
“Really?” Annie sat up a little. “Maybe I am the world’s best lover. Does that sort of thing have a cash prize?”
“There’s definitely a medal,” Lola said, “and a pin.”
“Oooh, I want that pin,” Annie said with a giggle, leaning over to kiss Lola on the mouth, then curling close. “God, that was so sexy. Seeing you come screaming and writhing on my carpet.”
Lola stroked Annie’s thigh, her gaze wondrous. “Well, it was just so hot. The feel of you. Seeing you so into it. Doing things we haven’t done before…” Revived, Lola rolled herself on top of Annie, before looking in playful confusion at Annie’s outfit. “Um, why are you still dressed?”
“Hey, you still have shorts on.”
“Outrageous…” Lola rose to her feet, extending a hand to pull Annie up.
Lola backed them up to the wall, pressing Annie to it to kiss her, in between pulling her T-shirt up and off.
These kisses felt different now: deeper.
Hungrier. Lola pulled back, speaking low in Annie’s ear. “I want to make you come.”
Annie closed her eyes, her blood already singing. “I want that, too. Very muchly.” Muchly might not be a word, but Annie’s brain wasn’t focused on grammar. It was focused on the half-naked woman tracing kisses down the side of her neck.
Annie shifted her weight, spreading her legs.
As if reading her mind, Lola ran her hand down Annie’s thigh, gathering up the material of her skirt to get it out of the way, freeing her to trace the top of Annie’s satin underwear.
Even just the promise of Lola’s fingers touching her clit had Annie wound up, her muscles tense with need.
“Silky,” Lola murmured, her fingertips easing, achingly slowly, over the front of Annie’s underwear until she reached Annie’s clit. Even through the material, the touch was exquisite torture. Her heart jackknifed, messy and hot.
Lola ran her fingers up and down Annie’s center, featherlight, teasing. Even though each stroke was barely there, a fraction of what Lola was capable of, the anticipation was almost too much to bear.
Annie let out a strangled whimper, wanting more. Needing Lola to touch her. “More. Please.”
Finally, Lola slid her fingers inside Annie’s underwear, confidently stroking Annie’s swollen clit. The relief was so pronounced, the pleasure so great, Annie moaned.
“You’re so wet,” Lola marveled. “You’re so wet for me.”
Annie couldn’t speak, her words kidnapped by Lola’s fingers, her voice, the feel of her skin.
“What do you want?” Lola murmured. “I can fuck you with my hand. With a toy. With my mouth. I want to be inside you, Annie.” Moving down, she traced Annie’s entrance. “I might never leave…”
Annie inhaled, involuntarily clenching. Now for the possibly awkward part. Maybe she should’ve found a time to mention this earlier, but she’d been nervous. Sex wasn’t just about stripping off clothes. It was about stripping off presumptions to expose the truth.
Annie found Lola’s gaze. “Not that,” she said, shifting back an inch. “Not inside me. Clitoral orgasms are one hundred percent my jam. Put it on a T-shirt.”
“Okay,” Lola said without skipping a beat. “So, no fingers inside.”
Annie exhaled. Past partners had been disappointed. But that’d been so easy. “Exactly.”
Lola’s fingers moved back up to Annie’s clit, the touch sending fresh shock waves of pleasure up Annie’s spine. “Thanks for telling me,” she murmured, raising her other hand to squeeze Annie’s breast.
Annie let her head fall back against the wall. Lola’s acceptance had her feeling bold. “Get on your knees,” she said. “And make me come with your mouth.”
Lola pulled back, a pleased smile on her lips. “With pleasure, my queen. Clothes on or off?”
Somehow, Annie was still in her colorful skirt. “I think…skirt on.” Something about keeping it on, Lola sort of underneath it, sounded unbelievably hot. “But shorts off for you.”
Obediently, Lola undid the top button of her cream cutoffs, bending to slide them off over her ass, down her thighs, stepping out of them to reveal a matching sheer cream thong.
Annie’s head spun at the almost comically sexy sight in front of her: this blond, beautiful woman with a body sculpted as if from marble, her skin smooth and supple, her legs as long as a summer afternoon.
Life was so fucking good.
Annie gathered up her skirt and Lola dropped to her knees. Annie swallowed hard as she felt Lola ease off her pink satin panties, the material falling to her ankles.
Wedging one foot on a low stool, Annie readied herself for the coming pleasure.
But nothing prepared her for the first hot stroke of Lola’s tongue, licking her entire clit.
Annie cried out. The sensation crashed through her like a wrecking ball, and Annie was no longer in her apartment in Rhodes; she was in the liminal place between past and present, between reality and make-believe, between the earth and the stars.
Lola moaned against Annie, her breath warm, her hands gripping Annie’s inner thighs.
It was all too much. Annie’s legs buckled. “I’m close.” The words fell desperate from Annie’s open lips. “I’m so close.” It was too much to keep standing.
All at once, Lola was on her feet, one arm holding Annie up against the wall, the other moving fast to replace her mouth, the flat of Lola’s hand finding a stronger, more powerful rhythm, circling even faster against Annie’s slick, sticky clit.
Annie started to come, the world’s tallest tower collapsing.
Screams of pleasure ripped from her throat.
Color and light hurricaned around her, centered by breathless wonder that her body was capable of this, and that Lola was the one making it happen.
Annie’s legs gave out, and they tumbled down, still wrapped together. Lola’s fingers still moving, slowing as Annie’s orgasm calmed. Every cell sang. Her mind was as blank as a mirror. Everything was perfect.
Reality came back into focus. The carpet under her head. The soft light of the apartment. The woman next to her, fingers moving lazily up and down Annie’s arm. “So.” Annie puffed. “We’re back on the carpet.”
Lola laughed. A bright-eyed, relaxed laugh, perhaps more generous than the comment deserved, but she was happy.
“We are.” She leaned closer to kiss Annie on the mouth, and Annie tasted the salty tang of sex.
Lola pulled back to stare at Annie, touching her flushed cheeks.
“That was everything I dreamed it’d be.”
Annie couldn’t help grinning. “I am getting that pin. But before you say another word…” She wriggled out of her skirt, out of her bra.
Taking the cue, Lola slipped off her own underwear, which was drenched through.
Kind of funny they’d both come—hard—without being naked.
But they were making their own rules. Writing their own story.
And the night was young. It was still only dusk.
Lola’s gaze roved Annie’s naked body, her fingers skimming Annie’s still-erect nipples, the soft mound of her stomach, the fine hairs on her thighs. “You have no idea how often I’ve thought about this.”
“I have some idea,” Annie said, shifting onto her elbows. “What now?”
Lola’s eyes were hungry. “As soon as you’re ready, I’m dragging you to your bedroom.
” Her voice was low, with the scratchy edge of an old record.
“I want to slide our wet pussies together. I want all of your fingers inside me. And I want to make you come. Again and again and again, until we can’t think. Can’t talk. Can’t move.”
Annie nodded, lightheaded, feeling like she was swimming in a vat of warm honey.
She’d done the unthinkable. The previously unimaginable. She’d fallen back in love with Lola Wilson. Uncontrollably, irrevocably, and with her entire heart. And there was absolutely no going back.
Annie could manage only one word. “Yes.”