Fresh Tracks

by Georgia Beers

  “Warm?” Kristin asked.

  Molly nodded. “Your fault.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re the hot one here.” Kristin caught the lapel of Molly’s pajama top with her fingers and tugged Molly forward so she was on all fours again. As she unfastened the buttons down the front of the shirt, she whispered, “I want to see you.”

  Molly’s heart skipped a beat at the sheer primal need in the words. Her arousal cranking up another notch, she held her breath as Kristin pushed the flannel open, revealing her breasts, now covered in gooseflesh despite the warmth of the room. She gasped when she felt Kristin’s fingers working at the waistband of her pants.

  “All of you,” Kristin said, a pleading note lacing the demand. “I want to see all of you.” She tugged at the flannel and the panties beneath it, using her hands and then her feet to pull the fabric off her wife. Molly sat up again, still straddling Kristin, her bottom half now naked and her shirt hanging open. Kristin’s breath hitched in her throat as she looked at the vision poised above her. She watched as Molly’s nipples hardened under her scrutiny, then she pushed the shirt off Molly’s shoulders. It left more gooseflesh in its wake as it slipped down her arms.

  Sliding her hands back and forth over the skin of Molly’s hips, Kristin stared, struck speechless by the beauty laid bare before her. Molly often complained of her shortcomings—her breasts were too small, her hips were too wide, she was too short. But Kristin never agreed with any of it. Molly was a beautiful woman, wonderfully proportioned and gloriously feminine. Kristin loved her compact size and used to joke about how it was easier for her to reach every part of Molly that way.

  Ever since their first night together, Kristin loved to simply look at her. She could still remember the exact moment when she’d removed the last article of Molly’s clothing and had seen her naked for the very first time. It had been like unwrapping a gift…an exquisite and breathtaking gift. Now, she felt that same joy. She couldn’t pull her eyes away—she could barely blink—as she watched her own hand trail upward and capture one breast, kneading it in her palm, feeling the solidness of the nipple pushing into her. Molly’s small intake of breath and the twitch of her hips only served to excite Kristin further, and she squeezed more firmly. Her other hand occupied the opposite breast and soon Molly was arching her back slightly. When she threw her head back and pushed her chest commandingly forward, her body bathed in the ethereal blue of the moonlight, Kristin thought Molly was nothing short of a goddess. Hot and unexpected tears filled her eyes.

  Molly gasped when Kristin’s fingers zeroed in on her hypersensitive nipples. Despite what they’d gone through over the last months, Kristin obviously hadn’t forgotten how responsive her body was when it came to her breasts. The pinching and pumping and rolling forced guttural sounds to push their way from her throat. She was conscious of others in the house and tried to control herself, but the feeling was almost too much. She concentrated so hard on keeping quiet that she didn’t notice Kristin’s slight change in focus until fingers slipped between her thighs, sliding through the hot, silky wetness she was sure she must be leaving in pools. A cry did escape her then; she couldn’t help it. She clamped a hand over her own mouth as Kristin smiled up at her. She fell forward so she hovered over Kristin, propped on her knees and one hand.

  “Shh,” Kristin warned with a grin. “You want to wake the whole house?”

  Molly’s breath caught as she tried to respond—Kristin’s fingers hadn’t stopped their gentle probing, slicking along her engorged flesh with maddening precision. “Your fault,” she said for the second time.

  Kristin’s expression softened. “I can’t help it. You’re so fucking beautiful, I just can’t help it.”

  “Kristin…” Molly’s eyes drifted shut and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as Kristin’s fingers explored her, and she rocked against the touch.

  “Come here.” Kristin hooked the back of Molly’s neck with a wicked grin. “Maybe if I can keep that mouth busy, you’ll stay quiet.” Pulling her down, Kristin kissed her roughly, with reckless abandon, suddenly sure she couldn’t possibly get enough. She slid her hand down Molly’s smooth back, cupping her ass tightly and pressing her closer. As she did so, she parted her own knees, which forced Molly open farther and allowed Kristin’s fingers better access. Molly groaned and Kristin swallowed up every sound, every breath, never wanting to break their contact. God, how she’d missed this! She’d been such a fool, such a blind fool. Before she could berate herself further, Molly lifted her mouth away.

  “Oh, God,” she hissed as she squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh, God, Kristin. Yes…oh, my God…”

  Kristin knew the chant well and knew what it meant. She felt a rush of wetness fill her own panties in response as she pulled Molly’s head to her shoulder, holding tightly and relishing the anticipation of what would happen next as she pressed more solidly with her fingers.

  Molly’s body exploded, her muscles spasming tightly. She grabbed a fistful of pillow in each hand and buried her face in Kristin’s shoulder as she ground herself down onto Kristin’s hand.

  “Shh…” Kristin whispered in her ear. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, baby.”

  Silence was impossible and she knew it, though Molly did her best to muffle what she could. The climax was intense, the most intense she’d experienced in a long time and a hundred times better than when she’d taken care of herself, which she’d been doing a lot lately. The contractions continued periodically even as the rest of her body began to relax. And as each muscle eased, Molly suddenly felt emotion. It was raw and it was powerful and it raced up through her until her eyes filled with tears. She kept her face buried in Kristin’s shoulder, hoping the feeling would pass, but a sob escaped, tattling on her.

  Instead of panicking, Kristin held her tighter as Molly tried not to cry. She’d suspected they were coming, the tears of relief, joy, fear, love. She’d felt them herself and now they ran out of her eyes and down the sides of her face as she held her sobbing wife.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured in Molly’s ear, still next to her lips. “It’s okay, baby. I love you. I love you so much and I’ve missed you so much. We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  She felt Molly nod against her shoulder, and the sobs eventually subsided into occasional hiccups. Molly shifted her body so she slipped sideways and settled against Kristin.

  “We can do this,” Kristin said.

  Molly nodded again. “You think so?”

  “If we love each other, I think we can.” It was a simple statement, and it would have never scared Kristin before. She’d never wondered about Molly’s feelings for her until this week. But even after seeing the unmistakable look on her face earlier in their lovemaking, she felt fingers of doubt, of anxiety, tickling up her spine. Before Darby, it had never occurred to Kristin that she might have driven Molly too far away to ever get her back.

  Molly pushed herself up enough so she could look Kristin squarely in the eye. Their tears sparkled in the moonlight and they stayed like that, just looking at one another, for long minutes.

  “Do you still love me, Molly?” Kristin’s voice was barely audible, her worry nearly choking her as she stroked Molly’s bottom lip with her fingertips.

  Molly captured and kissed the fingers. “With all my heart,” she said. “I always have.”

  The breath Kristin had been unconsciously holding left her in an enormous whoosh and she pulled Molly against her, squeezing her eyes shut, sure she could never get her close enough. Thank God, she thought. Oh, thank you, God.

  “We’re going to be okay,” she said, repeating her reassurances. “We are. We can do this.” And for the first time in many, many months, she actually believed it.

  Sophie And Laura

  Sophie wasn’t sure what woke her up. A sound? A dream? She had no recollection of anything other than opening her eyes. It was dark, late. She felt for the nightstand, grabbing her watch and hitting the button that lit up t
he face.

  3:12.

  She groaned quietly, feeling suddenly awake. She shifted her position in the twin bed and was surprised to feel weight near her feet. Lifting her head, she noticed Ricky curled up near the foot of the bed. The moonlight was bright enough to allow her to see his brown fur. He snuffled in his sleep and Sophie smiled, inexplicably happy that he’d chosen to bunk with her. Despite her best efforts to remain cool and detached, she was really developing a soft spot for the little guy.

  Laura stirred in her sleep in the next bed. Sophie looked, but didn’t see much more than a mass of blond hair spilling across the quilt, though she knew from memory exactly what Laura wore to bed: Winnie the Pooh boxer shorts and a very clingy white tank top. She licked her lips at the recollection.

  With a sigh, Sophie flopped her head back against her pillow and thought about the week. It had been an unexpected whirlwind of emotions, realizations, alcohol, food, fun, discomfort, anger, and self-awareness. None of it was what she’d signed on for, but if she was to be honest, she had to admit it had been an enjoyable experience. For the first time in many months, she felt alive, like she might really be ready to move forward with her life. It was clear to her now that she’d been oblivious to how stuck in a rut she really was. She had always despised women who wallowed in their own self-pity, but she now knew that’s exactly what she’d been doing for a good six months. It was a new year. As good a time as any to start fresh.

  Laura stirred again, her legs moving under the covers, and whimpered quietly. Sophie watched and waited, wondering if her bunkmate might be having a nightmare. Then she inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly.

  Laura.

  The midnight kiss came screaming back into her mind. It had been simple. Innocent. Hadn’t it? It was midnight on New Year’s Eve, after all, and neither of them had a partner to kiss. It only made sense that they’d kiss each other, rather than standing there twiddling their thumbs. Laura had simply been braver and faster. Sophie would have done the same thing, given more time. Wouldn’t she? She brought her fingers to her lips, absolutely certain she could still feel the warm press of Laura’s. It had only lasted a second or two, but Sophie felt as if the kiss had been imprinted on her mouth for all eternity, as if she could look in the mirror right this moment and see the faint shadow of where Laura’s lips had touched hers.

  Movement came from Laura’s bed once more and this time, she kicked off most of the covers. Sophie stared with her heart in her throat as her eyes roamed over Laura’s newly exposed form as she slept, however fitfully. Her skin was pale, made even more so by the light of the moon. Her legs were long and toned. Sophie thought about Laura’s job and how she must be on her feet all day. Even relaxed, her muscle definition was apparent. She had nicely rounded hips, a slim waist, and modest breasts. All in all, Laura’s body was beautiful, but it was her face that seemed to capture Sophie’s attention the most. It was her creamy-smooth complexion, the kindness in her eyes, and those damn dimples.

  Sophie was startled out of her reverie by Laura’s sharp intake of breath as she awoke with a jolt. Her chest rising and falling with the rapid pace of her breathing, Laura put a hand to her eyes and pressed with her fingers as a subtle whimper issued from her throat. Worried, Sophie was surprised to feel herself getting out of her own bed and taking the few steps across the small room.

  Laura watched her approach, her eyes drilling holes into her makeshift roommate, uncertain whether or not she was fully awake or still clinging to the remnants of the dream.

  Sophie sat on the edge of Laura’s bed. “Hey,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”

  “Sophie.”

  Laura’s eyes were black. Sophie could tell so even in the darkness of the night, and it sent a twang through her body that was not unpleasant. “I’m right here. Did you have a bad dream?”

  Laura took Sophie’s hand. When she spoke, her voice was raspy and hoarse with need. “Please, Sophie. Finish me. Please?”

  “What?” Sophie blinked, completely confused, thinking Laura couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like she meant.

  “Please?” Laura pleaded once more. She guided Sophie’s hand under the waistband of her boxers and before Sophie could make any sense of what was happening—or stop it—her fingers were pushed past Laura’s coarse hair and into the warm, moist flesh between her thighs.

  “Jesus Christ,” Sophie gasped out as her fingers were immediately coated with a shocking amount of Laura’s arousal. She’d been having a dream, all right.

  Laura’s other hand came up and hooked around the back of Sophie’s neck.

  “Laura?” Sophie whispered the name, alarmed that her fingers had begun moving in the silky wetness all on their own. She knew she should say something more, but no words would come. When Laura pulled her head down, Sophie didn’t—couldn’t—resist. Their lips crushed together in a bruising kiss that sent fire shooting through Sophie’s body, short-circuiting any and all rational thought stemming from her brain, trying to force her to do nothing but feel for a change. Letting go mentally was something she had never been good at, but she tried it now. She pulled back, wrenching their lips apart so she could look Laura in the eye. They held one another’s gaze, searching, trying to understand what was happening.

  Am I just a vestige of a dream? Does she want me or this? Does it even matter? Sophie pushed the thoughts away. No, none of it mattered. They were two grown women, both lonely, both needy, both in a position to offer pleasure to the other. And I’ve wanted her since the second she shook my hand that first day, Sophie admitted. It was the truth and she decided she should run with it for once in her life. She lowered her head and set about devouring Laura’s mouth.

  They fit surprisingly well together. Laura held tightly to the back of Sophie’s head and used her other hand to guide Sophie’s. As Sophie nipped and sucked her way along the side of Laura’s neck, Laura glanced down and her arousal ratcheted up another notch at the sensual dichotomy the two of them created: Laura’s light skin on top of Sophie’s dark as their forearms led down her torso and their hands disappeared into her shorts.

  Sophie couldn’t get enough. She felt wild, like a captive animal suddenly uncaged. She pushed Laura’s tank top up, wanting to see her breasts, to touch them and taste them. The pink nipples stood erect and inviting. Laura gasped as Sophie closed her lips over one, sucking it in deeply, raking her teeth across it. The only thought in Sophie’s head was that she wanted more. More, more, more. To a whimpered protest from Laura, she withdrew her hand from the wet warmth and curled her fingers around the waistband of the shorts. Looking up into Laura’s face, she tugged at them.

  Laura obediently raised her hips, watching in flushed excitement as Sophie slid the shorts down her legs and tossed them to the floor. In a haze of arousal, she propped herself up on her elbows to watch as Sophie pushed her thighs apart and draped Laura’s bare legs over her shoulders. Her eyes never left Laura’s as she lowered her mouth to Laura’s drenched core and tickled the swollen flesh with barely the tip of her tongue. Laura’s breath hitched and caught, the hair-light touch sending a wave of electricity through her limbs.

  Sophie knew the power she possessed at that moment and she loved it. She repeated the barest of touches, brimming with satisfaction as Laura’s head dropped back between her shoulder blades and a sensual groan rose from deep in her throat. It had been so long since Sophie had felt this way, been this turned on just from watching the sexual arousal of another woman and knowing she was responsible. Her time with Kelly seemed eons ago now as she focused instead on somebody else, somebody new, somebody different.

  She touched her tongue to Laura’s silky wet skin once more, using a hint more pressure. The combination of Laura’s musky scent and her salty-sweet taste was making it difficult for Sophie to take her time. In the back of her mind, a little voice was pushing her, egging her on, cheering for her to plunge in, to take what was being offered and to take it now, fast and hard. She tamped down the desi
re, wanting to take her time, wanting to savor every moment, every taste and touch and twitch. It had been so long. She didn’t want it to end too soon.

  Using her thumbs, she spread Laura open farther, exposing the hidden pink flesh that was normally protected, and ran her tongue along its smoothness. Laura groaned, her breathing ragged now as she dropped flat onto her back. She was pleading in the softest of whispers, a constant stream of begging. Sophie could barely hear her, but when she did, she felt a surge of excitement hit her low in her own belly.

  “Oh, Sophie. Oh, please. Please. You’re driving me crazy. My God, you’re driving me crazy…”

  Sophie smiled against the slick wet and let her tongue skirt around teasingly, enjoying the endless flow of imploring dialogue coming from her prey. Then she decided to up the ante and slipped her fingers into Laura’s waiting entrance. Laura’s entire body convulsed and Sophie felt fingers fisting her hair roughly. The pain was delicious.

  Clamping her arm down across Laura’s stomach to keep her in place, Sophie went to work in earnest. She pressed with her tongue and matched the rhythm of her fingers as she slid them in, then pulled them out slowly, letting the tips dance lightly before pushing back in with more force. She kept it up, listening with elation as Laura continued to beg for release, her head tossing from side to side, one hand still in Sophie’s hair, the other pressing the pillow into her own face to stifle the gasping and pleading.

  Laura was sure she was going to spontaneously combust at any moment, that Sophie was trying to kill her. Death by sex. It was possible, wasn’t it? She felt as if she’d been in this position with Sophie countless times. Sophie seemed to know her body too well, know exactly what to do and how. She was putty in Sophie’s hands. She was Play-Doh. Sophie could mold her and shape her any way she wanted.

  She tried to direct, to push her hips more firmly into Sophie’s mouth, but Sophie’s arm was pressed down tightly on her stomach, on her hips, not allowing her to move. She was Sophie’s prisoner and only Sophie would decide when she would be released. Fingers thrust into her roughly and shockwaves sizzled through her body. They were pulled out and skimmed maddeningly over the sensitive skin at her entrance. Without warning, Sophie plunged them in again, stealing the breath from Laura’s lungs. Sophie’s tongue pressed and probed and stroked, feather-light, until Laura could barely remember her own name, let alone where she was. It was bliss…tortured, uncontrollable, sob-worthy bliss.