Date Night

by Raven Sky

  “You feeling anything yet?” Riley asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Quinn said. The brush strokes on her back tickled a little. She shivered in a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty. The paint was cold at first. As the paint dried, it felt as though the skin underneath the paint contracted and hardened slightly. Then it seemed to grow warmer. The warmth pulsed through her body like a living thing. Each caress of the brush, each stroke, each touch, sent a different color of vibrating warmth through her. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the sensations swirling within her. Riley seemed to be adding little dots all over her back, dots that felt to Quinn like little bubbles bursting all over her goose-bumped flesh.

  “Okay, yeah, I think it’s starting to work,” she said through the growing intensity of her body buzz.

  Riley came around to face Quinn and planted a sweet kiss upon her lips. “Your turn,” she declared.

  Quinn broke out of the trance she seemed to be lost in and eagerly began to decorate Riley’s flesh. “You’re an Amazon warrior and this is your war paint,” Quinn whispered dramatically.

  In her stoned state, Quinn saw Riley’s flesh in new ways. She traced connect-the-dot shapes on her freckles and created wide swaths of painted stripes at strategic curves. She used color to emphasize particular lines and contours at her pleasure. She stroked, flicked, and swirled with her paintbrush, entranced with her own hand’s movements. Quinn even watched with fascination as the paint dried. She almost forgot she was painting on a human canvas, so focused she became on the abstract act of creating.

  Riley began working on Quinn’s front and suddenly they were both engaged in mutual adornment. But Riley was no longer taking it very seriously it seemed. She was mostly distracting Quinn from her creative focus with experimental flicks of the brush’s bristles upon Quinn’s nipples. Quinn shivered but remained focused.

  Riley began moving at inconvenient moments. “Sorry about that,” Riley said, her eyes twinkling.

  Quinn met her playful gaze and rolled her own eyes, ignoring Riley’s attempts to distract her. Riley took a clean brush and began stroking it suggestively along Quinn’s pubic hair. Quinn squirmed and her eyebrows furrowed, but she kept at it, placing carefully thought out brushstrokes on Riley’s collarbone. Riley began tapping the bristles between Quinn’s slightly parted legs.

  Quinn brought her legs together and murmured, “Stop that.”

  Riley complied. She stopped tapping the bristles against her vulva and started tapping them against her ass instead.

  “Riley!” Quinn complained.

  “You’re taking this too seriously.”

  Quinn paused. “Sorry. I do that sometimes when I’m high, don’t I?”

  “Yes.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “I suggest,” Riley said, moving closer and leaning one hand against the wall, “that we turn out the lights and I fuck you up against this very wall.”

  It was a very good suggestion.

  The black lights brought their body paint to life in a vividly surreal way that took Quinn’s breath away. She felt like a gorgeous, alien, luminescent creature, not unlike the ones in the film Avatar. She wanted to have gorgeous, alien, luminescent sex, and they did, their strange, glowing flesh coming together in ways uncannily familiar and unfamiliar. They threw their bodies together and blended selves until Quinn couldn’t tell who was who and what was what, only that whatever they were, it was unspeakably, intensely beautiful. She climaxed in uncharacteristic silence, wrapped up in the pot-fueled fantasy.

  “Shit! The paint’s come off on the wall.”

  “What?”

  “The paint. Look,” Riley said, whirling Quinn around. Quinn was startled to see what looked to her like a swirling portal lurking behind her still high self. Riley grabbed a tissue and tried wiping it off. It seemed to help. She would have kept scrubbing, but Quinn stopped her.

  “We wrote our love on the walls,” she whispered, melodramatic yet again.

  Riley considered a moment. “It would be pretty funny to see the face of the next person who goes to sleep here. It kind of looks like a blurry, rainbow colored ghost.”

  Quinn just stared, transfixed, but Riley chuckled to herself. “I am the ghost of sex from the past…” she intoned in a deep voice. She made a ridiculous “whooooo” ghost sound and chased Quinn to the bathroom where they jumped in the shower to wash off the night’s art, kissing and teasing, talking and caressing, like two women in love are bound to do.

  THE END

  Quinn and Riley have intense anniversary sex.

  “You think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you, Quinn?” Riley fairly growled, pushing her up against the first available wall once they were safety ensconced in their hotel room. Quinn laughed with abandon, careless of Riley’s embarrassment. Riley pinned her to the wall. Her left forearm was pressing her chest while her left hand was around Quinn’s throat. With her right hand, Riley fumbled furiously in her pants to remove the remote-control vibrator. She flung it haphazardly across the room as Quinn continued to laugh.

  “Laugh away while you can, Quinn, but I know how to torture you too.”

  Her threat seemed to have no effect on Quinn’s mirth, which continued to bubble out of her. Riley’s face grew hot with passion in response. She grabbed the remote from Quinn’s hands and flung it across the room as well. It made an alarming cracking sound as it crashed against a nightstand.

  Riley stood still in a raging storm of conflicting, intense emotions—regret at having potentially broken her anniversary gift, mortification at losing her temper in front of Quinn, rage that Quinn would laugh in her face like that, embarrassment at the public humiliation in the elevator. And all this was whirling together with her lust and love for this devilish woman who drove her so mad with desire that she found herself in these ludicrous situations in the first place. It was a confusing maelstrom of feelings that burned in her veins and rooted her to the spot with indecision.

  “You are so adorably cute when you’re mad,” Quinn said, and it was like she knew exactly what to say to light the fuse.

  Riley blanched and took a step back, seething. “I’m cute? You think I’m cute when I’m mad?” She exploded, grabbing Quinn and ripping off her clothes roughly. “Let’s see how ‘cute’ I can get then!”

  It didn’t take long to strip Quinn. She stood naked and smirking before Riley who remained fully clothed. Riley wrapped her fist in Quinn’s hair and pulled her close, breathing hard and heavy in her ear for a few moments, just holding her there. Riley slowly felt her rage calming to a focused kind of familiar passion that could be harnessed usefully in the bedroom. Quinn liked to provoke her. Riley knew that by now. And Quinn clearly wanted something powerful between them tonight. Riley could give her that. Now that the fire she sparked could be contained and directed.

  She took a deep breath before continuing. “For the rest of the night, you’re going to do exactly what I say. You had your fun and now it’s my turn.” She nipped at Quinn’s earlobe with her teeth. “You might regret embarrassing me like that and making me lose my temper. I might lose it again. When you’re all tied up with no way to escape…”

  Quinn began to wriggle against her, always a telltale sign of excitement, and it encouraged Riley. She took her mouth from Quinn’s ear and made bold, sustained eye contact. Desire was growing between them and they were breathing heavily.

  “I don’t need a remote control to turn you on or to make you do what I want. You’re going to be a good girl and listen now, aren’t you?”

  “I’ll be good,” Quinn promised, putting on her meekest face and batting her eyelashes in an exaggeratedly feminine fashion.

  “You will,” Riley said, ignoring the somewhat sarcastic, coquettish gesture. She knew it was Quinn’s way of keeping her pride to obey with a hint of mockery. “You will because you want to please me. And because you know that you deserve to be punished after that little incident.” Riley tugged her hair so that Q
uinn’s face was forced up at an uncomfortable angle. “And because you secretly like being put in your place too. Isn’t that right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Quinn replied, giving a derisive little salute.

  Riley shook her head in exasperation, then kissed Quinn roughly, exploring her mouth forcefully with her tongue. Riley told her to go lie on the bed and wait for her. Sometimes Quinn resisted, so Riley never knew if she’d obey right away or fight it at first. Tonight’s acquiescence was a welcome change. Satisfied, Riley went looking for the toys she’d brought along for their anniversary night.

  “Give me your wrists,” Riley commanded upon her return.

  Quinn held them out expectantly and watched with mounting anticipation as Riley deftly wound rope about her proffered wrists, creating the simple wrist tie they had learned about together at an introductory kink workshop. They kept meaning to attend the full rope bondage course at the local sex shop, but never seemed to make it happen, despite their genuine curiosity.

  Quinn liked the way rope showcased the human body in new and visually entrancing ways. She had a book of erotic photography that featured a lot of Shibari, and she wanted to learn more about Japanese rope bondage so she could take photos herself. Riley’s freckled flesh would make such a compelling background for the rope work. She remembered that fantasy now and tucked the goal away for later. So much more sexy fun lay before her and Riley. She just knew that they would keep this spark between them, come what may in the future.

  “All right. Facedown. Ass up,” Riley said, and Quinn eagerly complied, though she couldn’t stop herself from furtively testing the strength of the binding as Riley affixed it to the headboard post. The binding was solid and comfortable. She felt herself held fast and relaxed into her submission. She liked the feeling of having her ass and sex exposed. The animality of the position turned her on.

  She felt something soft stroking her side. She turned her head to look and felt a sudden smack come down hard on her ass. She gasped.

  “Did I say you could look?”

  Quinn shook her head and resumed her previous facedown position. She knew what the toy was now anyway; she recognized the sensation. It was their spanking paddle, a little black number that was leather on one side and fur on the other. It made an impressive whacking sound, and she always enjoyed the vacillation of play as Riley changed things up, one moment offering her the soft sensation of the fur stroking and the next the rough sting of the leather slapping. She wiggled her bottom in keen anticipation of pleasure to come.

  “Since it’s our anniversary,” Riley said, “I thought I’d see how well you know me. Test your knowledge of our relationship.” She trailed the downy fur along Quinn’s contours. “Let’s start with something easy. When’s my birthday?”

  “October twenty-fifth,” Quinn answered right away.

  “Good girl.” Riley laid aside the paddle and grabbed Quinn’s ass with both hands, squeezing rhythmically. Riley teased Quinn’s pussy with her thumbs, massaging just beyond the edge of her outer lips. Quinn felt her cunt moisten and hoped Riley might slip a finger inside, but she left off massaging to pick back up the paddle

  “Okay, what’s my number one pet peeve?” Riley asked.

  Quinn hesitated. Riley tapped the leather side of the paddle lightly against Quinn’s behind as she waited as though she were counting down the seconds impatiently.

  Quinn finally tried for an answer. “When someone asks ‘How are you?’ but then they don’t wait for a reply?”

  Smack.

  “People who are always late?”

  Whack.

  “People who don’t signal their turns?”

  Smack. Whack. Smack. Smack.

  “Mushrooms?”

  “How can mushrooms be a pet peeve?”

  “By their mere existence? I don’t know. So many things bother you.”

  Whack. Whack. WHACK.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know!” Quinn all but yelled, wincing at the last resounding thrashing she had received. She felt that whack deeply and started to panic a bit, her mind racing to think of every little thing Riley had ever complained about, but there were, indeed, so many things that annoyed Riley that it was hard to settle on one.

  Riley brought her mouth to Quinn’s bottom, blowing gently on the smarting marks and placing tender kisses. She smoothed the fur in soothing circles to her cheeks, which were surely reddened by now.

  “Okay then, beautiful, tell me the story of how we first met. If you tell it well and remember enough details, I’ll reward you with my tongue. If you fuck it up…” She brought the leather down again to make her point.

  Quinn perked up, confident that she would meet this challenge. How could she ever forget the moment they met?

  “Well, you were on a date with another woman…” she started out rather riskily, wondering if Riley would strike her again for beginning this way—even though it was the truth. She braced for a smack, but none came. She allowed herself to relax, falling back into the memory.

  “I was taking pictures in the park. There was this particular bird I was chasing, trying to get the perfect shot. I lost my sense of where I was and fell into the creek like a clumsy idiot, just barely managing to save my camera. You came to my rescue like the proverbial Prince Charming.”

  Riley chuckled and threw the paddle away with a thump. “Turn over.”

  Quinn obeyed and their eyes met.

  “You think I was being chivalrous, but really I just couldn’t walk away from the chance to ingratiate myself to a hot woman in a wet T-shirt. As if it was even white!”

  “Oh, I’m very much aware,” Quinn said. “Offering me your jacket was genius. A very smooth way to guarantee I’d get your number. Just so that you could call me to arrange to get your jacket back of course.”

  “Of course.” Riley’s hand had wandered to Quinn’s pussy and was casually exploring.

  “But then you weren’t so smooth when I took my T-shirt off right there in the park. Your face turned as red as your hair. Did you really think I was going to put the jacket on over my soaking wet shirt?”

  “Everyone was looking. It just…surprised me,” Riley admitted.

  “Your date was looking, rather unhappily.”

  “Are you still jealous about that?” Riley said. “I just met her. I barely knew her name.”

  “Well, she knew yours and she did not like the way you were looking at me.”

  “How could I not? You’re painfully gorgeous,” Riley said, bringing her mouth to Quinn’s and stopping all further reminiscing with a fiery kiss.

  After a few moments, Quinn broke away, pouting.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s not what I thought you meant when you promised me you’d reward me with your tongue.”

  Riley laughed and quickly adjusted her position so that they could both please each other with their mouths. The time for talking was done. Her tongue was put to better use, delving in and out of Quinn’s intimate nooks and crannies. Quinn’s tongue did the same. They were an unbroken circle of connection and pleasure, giving and receiving, in a communion of body and spirit that felt almost sacred.

  Fuck, this is how I want to die. Ear-deep in the pussy of the woman I love, suffocated between her thighs, drowned in her juices. They were ridiculous thoughts, as Quinn’s thoughts were wont to be on the brink of orgasm, but Riley beat her to it. Riley’s first orgasm often took some time to achieve, but the ones to follow were quick and easy. She’d already come once tonight, so it shouldn’t have surprised either of them when her second orgasm snuck up on them. Riley buried her face in Quinn’s cunt and howled her release into it.

  Embarrassment quickly replaced Riley’s pleasure. “Sorry,” she said breathily, collapsing beside Quinn.

  “Don’t ever apologize for coming all over my face. Untie me though, please.”

  Her hands freed, Quinn began to play with herself. She used her fingers to spread her wetness up to lubricate her clit and
began rubbing it languidly, waiting for Riley to catch her breath and join her. They rarely climaxed at the same time, so she knew how to wait without losing momentum.

  “Sorry,” Riley mumbled again before propping herself up on one elbow beside Quinn. She watched her for a time, enjoying the view of Quinn’s manicured nails circling her clitoris. Eventually, Riley’s fingers joined Quinn’s, teasing about her entrance for a time before slipping powerfully inside. Quinn moaned and closed her eyes. She adjusted her hips, inviting Riley deeper in to her core. Deeper and deeper. Quinn imagined herself opening and opening to Riley’s touch. Taking more, taking all of her into herself. Enveloping everything that was Riley inside of her. That’s what she wanted. All of her. Deep within. She began to buck and thrash on Riley’s hand now, filled with her, overflowing with her, bursting with the beauty of the two of them together.

  “Tell me you’re my girl. Tell me you belong to me,” Riley demanded, fixing her with an intense yet vulnerable gaze.

  “I do. I am. I do,” Quinn moaned desperately, thrusting her hips up and frantically seeking liberation from her torment.

  Riley kept repeating the demand and Quinn kept answering it as waves and waves of longed-for relief crashed through her body over and over.

  “Are you my girl? Are you mine?”

  “Yes, yes, I am. I am. I’m yours. I’m all yours.”

  She came then, came fierce and helpless to Riley’s practiced touch, Riley…all of her…her love…Riley.