by J J Arias
George pulled her into her arms with unexpected self-assurance and comfort. It hadn’t been lost on Mila that they’d barely touched all day. “You are the opposite of bad for me,” she replied before taking Mila’s bottom lip in hers. The kiss sent her head spinning, and she was still a little dizzy when she released her lips a minute later. “This is my private residence. There is no restriction on who can be here.”
“But the other wing is not,” she finished with what they both already knew.
“Do you prefer to go back home?” George asked after gulping audibly.
“How hard would it be to see each other?” she asked with a growing pit in her stomach.
George’s sorrowful expression answered the question before her mouth did. “It would be much more difficult.”
Mila nodded, guessing that George was being optimistic. “So I’m either trapped in your room like E.T. or I can’t really see you?”
George averted her gaze to the window. It was all the confirmation she needed.
“Well,” she sighed. “I can’t say I’ve ever really had a Rapunzel fantasy, but let’s see how long I last.”
Her attempt at positivity made George look even more crestfallen. “This isn’t fair to you. I can’t ask you to live in a bedroom like some —”
“You’re not asking me. I’m the one who’s trying to sneak my stuff up here,” she laughed as she pulled her in by the waistband of her jeans. “You’re going to work from here this week, and I’m going to make my plans for what I’m doing next. Let’s just enjoy today,” she said, bending forward to kiss her jaw. “And the next day,” she said with another kiss. “And the next,” she added while her open palms slid down her back. “Until we have to figure something else out, okay?”
Mila knew it was unfair to engage her arousal while having the conversation, but she didn’t see the point in getting ahead of themselves. George’s soft moans as she snaked her way into her sweater counted as agreement.
“Plus, maybe while I’m here I can convince you to redecorate because this place looks like the set of The Golden Girls,” she whispered along the column of George’s neck earning a cackle.
“God, I hate this furniture. It was selected by snowbirds in the 1960’s, I’m sure of it,” she added, her face looking less forlorn than before.
“If you don’t like it then why don’t you change it?” she asked, a little relieved that George hadn’t decorated the place herself.
“It’s tradition to leave the decor the way it is,” she replied simply.
“You can respect something and still dare to make it your own,” Mila countered, her hands firmly on George’s hips. Something flashed in George’s eyes that caught her attention. “A boss like you must be very comfortable asking for what you want,” she said, stepping into her to press herself against her body. “If not, you should practice. Tell me what you want,” she demanded.
George’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Mila wrapped her arms around her neck, “tell me what you want. Without editing or diplomacy or risk of judgment. Tell me what you want,” she repeated in a husky voice.
“I want you to kiss me,” she said, resting her palms on Mila’s hips. With a grin, Mila obliged, giving her the lightest kiss on the cheek. She tried not to laugh as George narrowed her eyes. “You asked me to kiss you. I did. Specificity is key when asking for what you want.”
“I want you to kiss me like you might never see me again,” she said with more confidence.
Mila made a fist in George’s dark hair and pulled her head back before consuming her in an exhilarating frenzy.
“Take this off,” George demanded as she tugged at the sweatshirt.
In a single fluid motion Mila tore off her sweatshirt while George fumbled with the bra that came off a second later. In a flash, she was on her back in the unmade bed.
“Off with this too,” she said, yanking down her leggings.
The display of power and control sent a rush of desire coursing through Mila’s body. For months she’d fantasized about a moment like this. “Yes, Governor,” she said as she complied.
The use of the title flushed George’s skin and made Mila’s arousal pool painfully between her legs. I really hope you ask me to fuck you so hard, she thought without speaking. She had to follow the rules of her own game, which meant George would have to ask for everything. No freebies.
“Dance for me,” she said suddenly, surprising them both.
Mila looked down at herself. She was already in nothing but a pair of black underwear. Understanding her unspoken reservation, George strode to the closet and pulled out her robe. Without a word, she pulled a decorative chair without armrests from the corner, placed it in the center of the room, and sat.
Instead of heading straight for her, Mila went for her phone. A moment later Sylvia Howard was singing I Wanna Go Somewhere for them. Moving with slow deliberation to the music, Mila put one step in front of the other and ran her fingers through her own hair. Swaying her hips in a hypnotic rhythm, Mila used her bare foot to spread George’s legs and then stand with her legs on either side of one of her thighs. With her hands on the back of the chair, Mila rolled her body on one side while running her hand over her own exposed skin.
Being already naked took so many weapons out of her arsenal, but reading George’s pained expression, she was sure she didn’t need much. “I bet you’ve thought about this since I gave you a little teaser in the gym. Haven’t you, baby?” she asked in a low voice just above a whisper.
George nodded despite the embarrassment that flashed in her wide eyes.
“Did you want to see me like this?” she asked, dropping down with the beat and grinding against the top of George’s thigh.
The moan when she made contact with the tense muscle would have typically been for show, but she rubbed against her, feeling her wetness slide over her own flesh. It was nothing close to theatrical. Part of her wanted to continue until her need was quenched, but she knew it would be so much better if she waited.
George didn’t have the same patience. Gripping Mila’s hips hard, she pulled her forward so that instead of straddling one thigh she was sitting completely on top of her.
Blonde hair fell forward in an intentionally messy display. As the music hit a particularly slow point, Mila’s hips slowed to match it.
“Don’t stop,” George demanded, her hands still gripping her hips and guiding them as if George were inside her. The prospect of riding her for real set Mila’s body on fire.
“You have to enjoy the dance,” Mila warned, her words shaky as she continued grinding in her lap to the song.
“I want to enjoy you,” she replied, grabbing Mila by the back of the knees and pulling her in hard.
“Fuck,” Mila cursed, quitting the game as she wrapped her hand around George’s neck and squeezed a little before kissing her forcefully.
George growled as she grabbed her behind and lifted her as she stood. Without breaking their kiss, she took her back to the bed where they’d started. When Mila’s back hit the bed, George was already on top of her and ripping the only piece of clothing off her body.
“I’ll replace those,” she said breathlessly as she discarded the ripped underwear in a distant corner of the room.
Mila could hardly speak. Her entire body had turned into an erogenous zone. With every kiss and contact, she was closer to a climax than she’d like to admit, and George hadn’t truly touched her yet.
Lifting herself, George stopped kissing her and looked down at her. “You’re amazing,” she said simply before dropping and taking her swollen lips in hers.
From lips to navel, there wasn’t a single place left untouched.
“Open,” George ordered with more hesitation than she’d said anything else.
Mila watched George’s dark eyes stare at her from the end of the bed. Sitting back on her heels, she was waiting for her. Unable to help herself, Mila made a show of obliging. Wi
th one hand behind her head, and the other running over her own chest and abdomen, she watched George go from in charge to on the verge of tears. She smirked and then moaned as she slipped her hand down to cover herself before slowly parting her thighs.
She watched George’s face cloud over with confusion.
“You said open, and I did,” she said, reminding her of the rules.
George narrowed her eyes and swallowed hard. “I want to see you,” she said, her words dripping with the extent of her need. Her raspy tone sent Mila’s head reeling, but she couldn’t help but toy with her a little further.
With her hand still covering what George wanted most, Mila slipped the tip of her middle finger inside herself and moaned. It was intended for show, but she was so turned on that a burst of pleasure jerked through her body, and it took a surge of discipline to make herself stop.
Slowly, Mila slid her hand back up, intentionally holding herself open for a moment for George’s eyes before putting her other hand behind her head. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked innocently, as if she wasn’t well aware of the glistening wetness George was staring at like a marooned sailor eyeing fresh water for the first time in days.
Without preamble, George dove in and took a long end-to-end swipe with her tongue that left her body trembling. By the third time she did it, Mila understood that she was tasting every bit of her arousal and taking it greedily for herself.
Mila tangled both hands in George’s hair and guided her to where she needed her most.
Instead of easing her pain, she looked up. “You think I don’t know what you want?” George asked, her chin wet and her lips swollen as she propped herself up on one elbow. Without breaking eye contact, George plunged two fingers so deeply inside her, it snatched the oxygen from Mila’s lungs.
Chasing the sensation, Mila bore down, wanting harder and faster movements, but George slipped out instead and replaced her fingers with her tongue. Before Mila could miss the attention elsewhere, George reached around her thigh and made quick small circles with her fingertips over Mila’s most sensitive spot. She squirmed and fidgeted wildly. Being teased wasn’t nearly as fun as doing the teasing.
“Please, I can’t take this,” Mila yielded after what felt like hours of being taken close to the edge only to be shoved backward just before the leap.
“You don’t like your own medicine?” George asked before diving into a kiss and letting her taste herself all over her mouth.
For the first time in her life, Mila was sorry for being a tease. George was kinder than she was, and after another kiss, she descended her body once more. As soon as the tip of George’s tongue hit the only point she’d been dutifully avoiding, heat and blissful delight radiated from her core to the rest of her body.
George gripped her thighs to keep her in place as she continued the targeted onslaught. Each quick flick of her tongue was followed by a slow one until Mila devolved into a trembling mess of curse words and desperate pleas.
Clutching George’s hair like it was a life preserver in rough seas, Mila took matters into her own hands and pressed herself hard against her tongue. The heat radiated from her body as she climbed toward release under the consistent pressure. George’s moans vibrated through her core, shooting her into another stratosphere as she rocked and shook. Her entire body was engaged in the act of climax and it was all she could do to stay tethered to Earth.
“Holy shit,” Mila sighed as she pulled George’s sweaty body on top of hers and kissed her hard before the other woman landed at her side, still out of breath.
“I was almost afraid I’d forgotten how to do that,” she joked as she wiped the perspiration from her forehead.
Mila laughed. “Jesus, if that’s you forgetting, I’m not sure what I’ve signed up for.”
They laid together in the dark room, holding each other and enjoying an easy silence. Mila’s body was still tingling as she relived the evening.
“Have you played with any toys?” Mila asked abruptly.
George cleared her throat in a classic display of discomfort. “Like a vibrator?” she asked in a squeaky voice. “Did you not,” she cleared her throat again, “if you need me to do something else to, um—”
“No!” she cried when she realized George had misunderstood her intentions. “You landed the plane like a champ,” she laughed. “I just happened to bring something with me. Not because I expected to use it,” she clarified as color rushed to her face. She wasn’t usually shy about anything sexual but suddenly wished she hadn’t broached the topic. “It’s that a friend of mine is staying in my condo and I didn’t want to risk that she would use it. Even though you can sterilize it, and I always sterilize it after use, but I didn’t want to leave it behind.”
Mila could hear herself rambling and her throat tightening, but she couldn’t find the emergency brake on her motor mouth.
George laughed nervously, and she was glad it was dark and they were both facing the ceiling rather than each other. Get it together.
“So, not a vibrator?” she asked for clarification with awkward pauses between each word. “Because I do have one of those if you want to use it.”
“No,” she said taking control of her nerves and flipping onto her stomach. “A strap-on.”
“Oh,” was George’s only reply for a painfully long time. “No, I haven’t, but you know what they say, you only live once.” She laughed too loudly, and Mila recognized she was trying to expend nervous energy.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’ve given you the wrong idea. It’s too soon anyway. I’m sorry.”
“Please,” George reached for her hand, “it just caught me off guard. I haven’t had a sex life in so long. And when I was, there was no way I was risking going into a seedy porn shop for toys,” she explained. “But I’m forty-five and there are an appalling number of things I haven’t tried that I would love to explore with you.”
Mila smiled, partially because the l word had been thrown in there.
“Only if you’re sure. It really is not a must, I just thought it would be fun,” she added, feeling the unusual desire to explain herself again and soothe any possible wound to her ego.
George leaned over and kissed her slowly and sensually, reigniting the fires that had finally cooled. “I’m positive. I feel like a huge part of me is alive again, and I want to live this to the fullest.”
Mila wrapped herself around George’s body, rested her head on her chest, and closed her eyes. “We just have to sneak all my bags up here. They’re very conveniently packed.”
* * *
George, dressed in a short silk nightgown, waited on the bed with candles lit and soft music playing in the background. After six nights of little sleep for all the best possible reasons, she’d asked Mila to retrieve her friend from her bag. She hadn’t wanted to see it beforehand in case it turned her off to the idea.
Now, she was sitting there waiting for Mila to emerge from the bathroom, and her pounding heart had climbed up into her throat. In the throes of their honeymoon, she barely had time to search the internet for advice. Good thing she considered herself strong under pressure and a quick learner.
“Are you ready for me?” Mila called from the other side of the door.
“Yes,” she replied in a voice that wasn’t hers.
The bathroom door opened slowly. In place of something terrifying, Mila emerged in black boxer briefs and a white tank top. George exhaled fully, relieved that she still looked like herself, but for the bulge in her tight shorts. But it was easy enough to focus on her muscular arms and legs.
“You okay?” Mila asked as she sauntered to the bed. “I promise, we really don’t have —”
George interrupted Mila with a kiss and pulled her onto the bed. “Can I see it?” she asked after releasing her from the kiss and slipping the covers over both of them as if someone might walk in and see them.
Mila slipped her hand inside the elastic waistband and pulled out a smooth pur
ple thing attached to what looked like a jockstrap.
“Oh.” She paused, looking at it. “I wasn’t expecting it to look like that,” she admitted. “I thought maybe it would be flesh colored and have. . .” George couldn’t bring herself to say the word.
“You thought it would be more anatomically correct?” Mila offered with a smirk.
“Exactly,” she replied with a chuckle.
“They make all kinds, but this has been my favorite.”
“Do you test out a lot of them?” George asked, the tendrils of jealousy wrapping around her stomach again.
“There were always promotions going on at the club. Lots of free stuff,” she replied, easing the churning in George’s guts.
“Will it hurt?” she asked after a gulp.
“No, no. Not anymore than—” She stopped herself. “Have you never?”
George shook her head, a wave of embarrassment washing over her.
“A real-life gold star, huh? God, I hate that term,” Mila said with a laugh. “I guess that makes sense why you’re so nervous. Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked as she climbed on top of her and cupped her face gently.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s nothing more and nothing less than something you just haven’t tried yet,” Mila replied with a casual shrug. “Do you want to give it a whirl?”
“Yes, but. . .” she smirked and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, I see. Well, I suppose versatility never hurt anyone. Remember that for later,” she said with a peck to her cheek as she got off the bed and started removing her getup.
In a few moments, Mila was naked and George had a new purple appendage.
“It takes some getting used to for depth perception purposes. Whatever you want to do, do it a little more exaggerated than you think you’d need to,” she offered a bit of advice before pulling George down to the bed. “Also try and relax. Pretend it’s not there for a while.”
