Date Night

by Raven Sky

  A. Scissoring

  B. Squirting

  Quinn wants to scissor.

  “I want to feel our lips kiss,” Quinn said. Riley brought her eager mouth to Quinn’s and sucked her lower lip into her mouth. “Not those lips,” Quinn clarified when Riley let her go.

  Riley chuckled and sat up. “In that case, I guess you better start stripping me next.”

  “With pleasure.” Quinn rushed to sit up and remove Riley’s shirt and black bra. She tugged off her pants next as Riley helped in removing her socks and underwear, until she was nude, a speckled wonder next to Quinn in the big hotel bed.

  Quinn knew that Riley still questioned whether she really appreciated her freckled skin. She had reassured her so many times, but the damage of years of childhood cruelty was hard to undo. In truth, Quinn loved Riley’s freckles. It was part of what drew her to her initially. Quinn had an eye for unusual beauty, as a photographer. And she adored the way their skin looked when they were tangled up together: her smooth, alabaster pale complexion contrasted so strikingly with Riley’s spotted flesh. She could stare and stare at it, which was always a good thing for someone as visually attuned as Quinn.

  “Hey, wait! Wait. I’ve got the perfect song for this.” Riley padded, naked, over to the desk and scrolled through her phone. Quinn sat on the bed, clutching the covers to her chest and waiting, watching the way the phone screen eerily lit up Riley’s tits. “Here it is. I got it. The perfect scissoring anthem.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Wait for it. I think you’ll know it.” Loud music began pouring from Riley’s phone, and she started rocking out, playing air guitar hilariously in the nude. Quinn cracked up and shook her head at her.

  “Do you know it?” Riley shouted over the music.

  “No,” Quinn said, “but I think you’re putting my striptease to shame with those moves.”

  “It’s a classic. John Mellencamp. ‘Get a Leg Up.’ Get it?”

  “Never heard it before, but I’m unlikely to forget it after this little performance.”

  Riley was all-in, hamming it up for her appreciative audience of one. Quinn felt happy that their connection was so welcoming of fun in all its forms that Riley felt safe enough to be silly. Riley jumped on the bed, singing the song. She ripped the covers off of Quinn and ran her hands down the length of one of her toned legs before placing it daringly on her shoulder.

  They were laughing when it started, but the moment that their pussies met, the tone shifted and an undercurrent of real eroticism began to build. The song ended, and the room was suddenly very quiet.

  “Just a second,” Riley said, extricating herself. She found a more suitable playlist for the encounter and threw her phone on the nightstand.

  “I believe we were…here, were we not?” Riley placed Quinn’s leg once more upon her shoulder, maintaining smoldering eye contact while she did so. She lovingly traced her hands down the length of Quinn’s leg and they both smiled.

  The music was perfect—soft, romantic, and unobtrusive. Riley began to move her pussy rhythmically against Quinn’s. Quinn had never really tribbed with anyone before Riley. She thought scissoring was bullshit made up by straight men, as she’d only ever seen it in girl-on-girl porn. She’d never experienced it in any of her sexual encounters in real life. But Riley had turned her on to it. She liked the way it allowed both their pussies to feel the same sensation at the same time.

  Like right now, she felt how wet and warm Riley’s sex felt, and it made her own sex grow even more slick. She liked the slippery intimacy of it. And the athleticism. Already, Riley’s hips were becoming more insistent and a sheen of sweat glistened on her skin. It took a lot of flexibility and muscle control to do this for long periods.

  Riley was bucking fiercely now and Quinn watched as her tits jiggled with the motion. She was gorgeous in that moment, straining, lost in sensation, setting the beat with the urgent cadence of her desire. Riley’s eyes were closed, and guttural sounds of pleasure were signaling the telltale proximity of her climax. Quinn watched carefully, keen to memorize this moment in their life.

  Riley opened her eyes. “Stop staring at me.”

  “I can’t help it; you’re beautiful.”

  “Shut up. I’m gonna come.”

  “Do it. Come for me. Come all over me,” Quinn said as Riley’s thrashing grew ever more insistent. Quinn closed her eyes and focused on the sensations, hoping she could meet Riley in her erotic peak. She thought of her year with Riley. She remembered her wicked smile and jiggling flesh. She felt the thrill of their joining in their most intimate of spaces.

  Riley began to orgasm, her spasms inspiring Quinn to rush over the precipice too. In that moment, they were a gasping, moaning heap of limbs, writhing on the bed together, happy and bonded. The waves of pleasure seemed to last longer than usual, and Quinn reveled in the sensations, content and connected, with nowhere else to be.

  Eventually, Riley sat up and moaned melodramatically. “Water. Water. My kingdom for some water.” Quinn was all too happy to find some water for her after such a performance. Especially given the witty Shakespearean plea for it.

  She filled two glasses from the bathroom faucet, offered one to Riley who immediately downed it, then handed her the second one as well, though she had intended it for herself.

  “Sorry,” Riley said.

  “You’re a hardworking woman.” Quinn trailed her nails down Riley’s back as she gulped the second glass.

  “That was just round one,” Riley said, her eyes twinkling roguishly. “We’ve had three hundred sixty-five days of being a couple. At least a couple of orgasms are in order. Maybe a couple of massages. Definitely a couple of French kisses.”

  “Don’t forget the snuggles. They’re important,” Quinn added.

  “Babe, I’ll never forget,” Riley promised.

  THE END

  Quinn wants to squirt.

  “Well, if I get to choose…” Quinn cooed, “then you know I want your fingers inside me.” Quinn grasped Riley’s hand and brought it to her mouth. She placed a kiss on her palm, then trailed her tongue along Riley’s index finger before lightly sucking the tip of it.

  “You better get a towel from the bathroom or we’ll wreck this nice, pretty hotel bed,” Quinn said.

  Riley jumped up and ran for the bathroom right away. “I’m on it!”

  Riley had never had a girlfriend who could ejaculate before. It was deeply thrilling to her that Quinn had this ability and that she could bring it out in her. It awed her every time it happened. She’d tried squirting herself, but could never seem to manage it. She’d bought a book, a specially shaped dildo, followed instructions from Quinn, masturbated every way she could think of, and still her orgasms, though wonderfully pleasurable, never included ejaculation.

  Riley returned to the bedroom with a pile of neatly folded towels, which she began to lie carefully on the bed, while Quinn watched her work, sipping from her wine glass.

  “Voilà, madame,” Riley said, patting the makeshift terrycloth quilt of sorts that now constituted the bed sheet.

  “Merci, chérie. Et maintenant, faisons l’amour!” Quinn proclaimed, lifting her glass.

  Riley picked hers up too. “I don’t know what you just said, but if it involves us being naked, I’m game!” They clinked their glasses, giggling and happy.

  Riley set her drink aside and Quinn followed suit. They looked at each other. Then Riley said, “We gonna soak these towels tonight?”

  Quinn smiled. “We can give it a try.” She lay on the right side of the bed, making herself comfortable. Riley settled in beside her, pulling the sheet over them for warmth. “Are you cold?”

  “You can warm me up.” Quinn snuggled into her.

  And she did. They made out for a time, all entwined limbs and gentle kisses until Riley eventually moved her hand to Quinn’s inner thigh. She nudged her legs apart and brought her fingers to Quinn’s clit, circling lightly at first, then pi
cking up speed and massaging her lips too. Their kissing heated up and Quinn was moaning now. Riley knew she was ready and forcefully pushed two fingers inside her.

  Quinn gasped, and Riley could feel a jolt of energy surge through them both. Riley loved being inside her, feeling her fingers snug inside Quinn’s most private of spaces. She loved the contours of Quinn’s pussy and how her muscles clenched and gripped her there. Riley fucked her good and hard from the start. She didn’t ease Quinn in. She didn’t need to. Already, Riley could feel Quinn’s vagina opening, making room for more. Sometimes Quinn would take three or four fingers at once before the night was through, but two was their usual preference. It still allowed Riley enough room to maneuver, add in twists, and adjust her movements as needed.

  Quinn was focused on opening. She’d learned years ago that she only ever squirted if she relaxed precisely when she felt the urge to clench tight. It was hard to explain. But she would imagine herself opening like a flower blooming, petal after petal falling open to the secret, hidden heart. Sometimes in her mind she saw a vibrant, psychedelic mandala, its pulsating core, its vital crux, growing ever bigger and more encompassing. Its throbbing, expansive center mirrored the voracity of her own essential, hungry center seeking, growing, overtaking. It was weird but it worked, this odd mental visualization trick Quinn had of releasing and unfurling. She’d tried to explain it to Riley, but she was sure it just sounded incomprehensibly strange.

  Riley brought her mouth into the mix, and it took things to a whole new level. The steady pressure of her mouth, its warmth and moisture on Quinn’s sensitive clit, it shot Quinn to the threshold of climax. Her whole body began to vibrate. Everything in her told her to clamp down, to clench her muscles and ride the regular release, but she didn’t. She shook her head repeatedly, which Riley read correctly as a sign that she would be flooding soon, so Riley redoubled her efforts, adjusting the curve of her fingers to hit the sweet spot and giving it all she had.

  Quinn cried out and burst—streams of ejaculate spurting from her sex. Riley drank it all in, loving every mildly sweet mouthful. She couldn’t take it all; it overflowed her mouth and spilled to the bed, but Riley kept pumping, kept swallowing, and Quinn kept spouting. Its abundance was incredible, and the messy exuberant force of its emergence never ceased to amaze Riley. She kept imbibing her, lapping up everything Quinn had to offer, until finally the spring dried up.

  Riley realized that Quinn was shivering. She wiped her face quickly on a dry spot on the towels and motioned Quinn over to the dry side of the bed.

  “I’m so cold,” Quinn said, teeth chattering.

  Riley rushed to cover her in blankets. She removed the wet towels and threw them in the tub, then jumped into the bed to cuddle up to Quinn and warm her.

  “Sorry, I’m just freezing all of a sudden.”

  “Nothing to apologize for,” Riley assured her. When Quinn’s trembling died down a bit, Riley said, “That was incredible.”

  Quinn smiled. “Did we wreck the bed?”

  “Let’s just say the towels were soaked through.”

  They nuzzled in the mound of blankets for a time, quietly content, warming up.

  “This was a pretty amazing anniversary celebration,” Quinn said.

  “I’d say so. And speaking of pretty amazing things, I’ve got one more surprise for you.”

  “What? Something else? How spoiled can I be?”

  “Stick with me and you’ll find out.” Riley winked. She leaned over the nightstand, grabbed an envelope out of the drawer, and handed it to Quinn.

  Quinn opened the envelope, pulled out the sheets of folded paper, read them, and then just stared at them, blinking.

  “Are you for real?” she finally asked, eyes shining.

  “Yep. Let’s go wreck beds all across Europe, baby.”

  Quinn squealed and launched herself onto Riley, accidentally pushing her into the giant wet spot on the bed, but they were too busy laughing and kissing for her to care.

  THE END

  Quinn and Riley have steamy anniversary sex.

  “You are so gonna pay for that,” Riley said from the privacy of the bathroom as she carefully removed the vibe from her satisfied pussy.

  “Is that a promise?” she heard Quinn yell.

  Riley emerged fully nude from the bathroom to find Quinn had changed into some lingerie. It was a sheer midnight blue negligee that accentuated her curves and brought out her eyes. Quinn was sitting on the bed, buckling the tiny strap of her matching high heels. They stopped to stare unabashedly at each other.

  “You were supposed to take longer,” Quinn said, extending her leg and letting her shoe dangle playfully from her foot. “I’m not ready yet.”

  “I’m just in time to be of assistance then,” Riley murmured, moving eagerly to Quinn and kneeling before her. She took her foot gingerly in her hands and began working diligently on the buckle, glancing appreciatively up the length of Quinn’s long legs to the shadowed mystery between them.

  Riley loved Quinn in heels. How her pretty painted toenails would peek out of glittery straps. How Quinn would move differently, taking smaller steps that made her hips sway and her ass jiggle. How her calf muscles would strain and she’d tower over Riley, a veritable goddess of feminine strength. High heels invited sex. They had no other purpose in Riley’s mind. Quinn hardly wore them except in the bedroom. And so whenever Riley spotted Quinn’s cute little feet bedecked in heels, she knew they would soon be accentuating their lovemaking. To Riley, they were mostly just accessories to dangle alluringly over her shoulder as she fucked Quinn silly with a strap-on. The thought made her heartbeat speed up; it was practically Pavlovian.

  Riley managed the miniscule fastening and began running her hands up Quinn’s leg until Quinn’s words gave her pause.

  “Here I thought you were going to make me pay for the whole vibrator incident, and yet look who’s naked and on her knees servicing me…” Quinn affixed Riley with a taunting stare.

  Riley hated to play into stereotypes of redheads, but it was true that she was easily provoked. She’d had to work her whole life to manage the passion of her feelings. Quinn liked to toy with this weakness at times in the bedroom. And indeed, the comment did fire Riley up. She stood deliberately and proudly before her at the edge of the bed. She met Quinn’s gaze, held it, then unhurriedly leaned toward her, placing her hands on either side of Quinn on the bed, so that Quinn was forced to lean back submissively beneath Riley’s frame. Riley slowly brought her mouth close to Quinn’s ear.

  “We’ve got all night, beautiful. And I’m in no hurry. You’ll be begging me for release soon enough.” She began kissing, sucking, and nibbling Quinn’s earlobe. The sensation of Riley’s warm mouth and the sound of her excited breathing made Quinn start to wiggle beneath her. Riley darted her tongue in Quinn’s ear so that Quinn moaned and wrapped her legs around Riley, pulling her on top of her on the bed. Riley gyrated with her a moment before pulling away.

  “You’re not the only one who brought toys,” Riley said. “The strap-on or a mystery toy? Your choice.”

  Quinn drew Riley back down to her lips. “Can’t I have both? You said we had all night.”

  “You are such a greedy princess!” Riley laughed. “But yes, we have all night. Which do you want now?”

  CHOICE #3: Riley is about to fuck Quinn with a toy of her choice. Will Quinn choose:

  A. The strap-on or

  B. The mystery toy

  Quinn chooses the strap-on.

  “I prefer the strap-on, my prince,” Quinn said, riffing off the way she had been teased for being a greedy princess.

  “Then the strap-on you shall have.” Riley bowed ostentatiously before padding off to the closet to find the sex toy.

  Quinn moved up to the top of the bed, arranging herself against the pillows. They fucked regularly with the strap-on; it was a beloved staple of their repertoire and never got old. Quinn thought back with amusement to the day they went to the sex sto
re to buy the dildo for it. Riley already had a harness (and no doubt a dildo or two from prior amorous adventures with other women), but when Riley and Quinn had discussed trying out Riley’s strap-on together, they had both agreed that buying a new dildo would be in order. There had been so much choice at the store that it was overwhelming at first. They’d both just stood before the rows of brightly colored fake cocks giggling to themselves. But a helpful store employee asked useful questions that helped narrow down the choices.

  They’d left with a mid-sized, royal purple dildo that Quinn had enjoyed many an orgasm upon. She remembered when she’d first spotted it, she had picked it up and said, “This looks like a friendly guy,” and Riley had laughed, saying, “Maybe we could call it that: Friendly Guy.” But Riley and Quinn had never officially settled on a name.

  It amused Quinn to call it something different every time. She joked to herself that she was a real slut, fucking so many different guys. One night it would be Torvald, the mighty Viking cock; another night it was plain, bland Jim, the dork from accounting. She didn’t always share the names with Riley. Only sometimes. She didn’t want Riley to think that she was actually fantasizing about fucking dudes. They had bought an unrealistic-looking, smooth dildo for a reason. But it amused her nonetheless to play this little game in her mind where she gave the dildo a new name and personality each time it came out. Not that those thoughts lasted for long. Once Riley focused her abundant energy and erotic attention on Quinn, all thoughts of anything but her fled Quinn’s mind as meaningless trivialities.

  Indeed these current thoughts fled now as Riley made her way to the bed, harnessed up and ready for Quinn to play her part. Quinn always insisted on placing the dildo. She wasn’t sure why, but it gave her some kind of strange thrill to handle the cock and lovingly position Riley’s erotic power. She arranged it in the harness, Riley adjusted, and Quinn placed a tender kiss upon the tip, another odd ritual that she couldn’t explain enjoying.