‘Sex with a guy is all very well and good,’ Summer thinks, ‘but sometimes you just need some girl time.’
And girl time with Lex was glorious. Summer curls up against the other girl on the bed, head snuggled against her breasts, face tipped up to be kissed. They’ve been kissing for a while, languorous and sweet, licking at each others’ mouths like ice cream.
Lex slides a hand down the column of Summer’s throat, snagging fingers in the buttons of her shirt. It’s just snaps, and they part easily before her questing fingers, baring Summer’s breasts to the cool air. In return, Summer works her hand under the edge of Lex’s shirt, curving fingernails into the soft skin and scraping pale marks of possession.
Lex takes her time about it, shaping the subtle curves of Summer’s throat and shoulders, tracing the inner slopes of her breasts. Summer shudders, fingers splaying languidly in the sheets. They writhe a bit together, rearranging hands for better access, and then the brunette slides her hands over the taut skin of Summer’s abdomen.
The redhead throws her head back, keening very softly, almost pleading. Lex glides her fingertips by slow inches lower until they meet tangled curls, and Summer whimpers as she pauses. Her throat is invitingly arched, so Lex kisses her way along it, setting teeth to caress her pulse.
“Don’t stop!” A fevered, desperate gasp. Lex takes it in, drinking down her rasping breaths, and slides her fingers into welcoming warmth. Summer’s whole body flexes in pleased shock, fingers clawing and mouth opening. After a moment for her to relax, Lex curves her fingers within her body, eliciting another stutter in her breathing, another low keen. Hips rise, seeking.
One free hand traces the out-thrust arc of hipbone, while Lex twists her fingers within the other girl. Summer’s cry this time is louder, and Lex smiles softly, buried in her tangling curls. She wants rhythm, but Lex won’t give it to her, now rocking in and out, now twisting, now scraping fingernails inside her. Her back describes a perfect arch as Summer seeks to impale herself on the moving hand, increasingly desperate for release.
Lex stills, thrust deeply inside her body, and whispers, “Do you see? How it is to be possessed? Controlled, contained?” One finger twitches, and Summer cries out, something incoherent and acquiescent. Relenting, the witch brushes the pearl of flesh above the girl’s opening with her thumb, and the redhead trembles in climax against her chest. Lex closes her eyes and cradles Summer’s relaxing body, still smiling that faint, half-cruel smile.