Date Night

by Raven Sky

  That was all the invitation Riley needed to thrust her fingers unceremoniously between Quinn’s thighs. Quinn quickly returned the favor, and before long, they were having slippery, steamy, shower stall sex, hidden from the view of the random people walking past by only the flimsiest of curtains. They added their pleasure to the history of this house, this old Victorian home, which had seen so much of the vast scope of how human bodies could come together to find sensual bliss.

  They made love once more that night, snuggled up in the big comfy hotel room bed. They were drifting off in each other’s arms, when Riley gently whispered in Quinn’s ears, “Another day, another orgy,” and they both cracked up happily once more.

  THE END

  Quinn and Riley head to the private room.

  “Let’s head to the private room,” Riley whispered in Quinn’s ear. Quinn nodded eagerly and they made their excuses.

  “Have fun, you two! Nice to meet you,” Kitty called out as they gathered their things and made for the second floor.

  “I hope no one’s using it,” Quinn said as she walked in front of Riley up the stairs.

  Valentina hadn’t actually made it around to showing them the rest of the second floor, so they oriented themselves by the Harem room and then peeked into the next open door. It was a large dungeon, and there was quite the crowd gathered, watching an intense scene. They hurried on though, in search of a private place to finally enjoy each other.

  At last they came upon another room. The open door had a “Private” sign on it, and when they peeked inside, it was mostly just a giant bed, so they figured it was the right room. They walked inside, closed and locked the door. There was almost nothing in the room besides the bed. The décor was strange and out of sync with the rest of the building. There were Christmas lights strung up around the walls and giant vintage posters of Madonna, Depeche Mode, and other musicians.

  “This looks like some teenager’s bedroom,” Riley said, running her hand along a Bon Jovi poster.

  “Whatever. We’re finally alone; that’s all that matters.” Quinn dropped her bundle of things and flopped onto the bed. It was an alarming experience though as the bed did not respond as she expected, and she let out a little squeal in reaction. It took her a moment of sitting up and pushing experimentally on the bed to realize what was going on.

  “Oh my God. It’s a freaking waterbed!”

  “What?” Riley dropped her things and pushed on the bed too. The bed responded with a wave in place of firm springiness.

  “Oh my God.” Quinn laughed. “It’s an eighties themed room. That explains the posters.”

  “It feels so weird,” Riley said, crawling tentatively onto the bed on all fours and resting in that position wobbly for a time. “I’ve never been on one of these, have you?”

  “Neither of us was alive in the eighties. How could we have slept on one?”

  “I don’t know. You use all kinds of strange sets and props with your photo shoots, so I guess I thought there was a chance.”

  “No, this is definitely a first for me too,” Quinn said as she got under the sheet. She lay on her side to face Riley and beckoned Riley to join her. Riley complied, and their legs and arms naturally entwined as they scooted closer, causing small ripples of motion on the bed. Quinn rode the ripples, wondering at the strange sensation.

  “It feels sort of womb-like,” Quinn said.

  “It feels like we’re about to fuck in a bouncy castle.”

  “I really wish we had the strap-on right now,” Quinn confessed. “It would be amazing to ride you on this. Can you imagine?”

  Riley could. She could imagine in great detail just how sexy Quinn would look with her head thrown back and her hips thrusting lustily on top of her. Quinn would ride her, and she’d ride the waves of the bed like the waves of their orgasm. Yes, she could imagine it, all right. It turned her on and she became eager to start their lovemaking. She began kissing Quinn passionately. Eventually, Quinn pulled away.

  “Maybe we should role-play as horny college roommates from the eighties,” Quinn said, caressing Riley’s face. “Y’know, given the room.”

  Riley felt a weight of dread settle in her stomach. She didn’t think of herself as particularly imaginative in terms of storytelling and she’d never role-played with a partner before.

  “I don’t know that I’ll be any good at that,” Riley said.

  “It’ll be fun. I’ll take the lead,” Quinn said. “You just have to pepper your speech with eighties references. Or talk like a valley girl, all like ‘Gag me with a spoon,’ and ‘Grody to the max,’ you know?”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Come on, don’t you watch John Hughes movies?”

  “Yes, but I don’t remember anything much besides wishing I was a Molly Ringwald kind of redhead without the freckles.”

  “That was probably all makeup, hon. Anyways, you’re brave and we’re doing this,” Quinn said, planting a reassuring kiss on Riley’s lips. “So, we’re straight girls who experiment in college. Your name’s…Jessica, like the wild twin from Sweet Valley High. And I’m gonna be Blair, like the posh bitch from Facts of Life. You’ve seduced me into your Sapphic depravity and I secretly like it. Now kiss me like a bold, bad girl.”

  Riley wasn’t convinced that this would go over, but she didn’t need much persuading to place her lips on Quinn’s. She rolled on top of her and pinned Quinn’s arms above her head. Riley explored her mouth with her tongue and reveled in the sweet, familiar taste of her. Their hips began stirring together in rhythm and the bed began to undulate in time with the movement of their hips.

  “Do you like my new waterbed?” Quinn asked, “I think it’s totally tubular.”

  Riley shook her head, unable to think of a response.

  “It’s gnarly right? Totally radical?” Quinn said.

  “Yes, it’s…rad,” Riley said, though her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about the rolling motion of the bed and how best to work with it. She mentally pinpointed a position that would be fun for both of them and make the most of the bed. “You know what would be really radical?”

  “Mmm…no, what?” Quinn replied.

  “There’s this great queercore band called Tribe 8. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them, but I think we should try out the sex act that inspired their band name.”

  “I think that was the early nineties, not the eighties and—”

  “Seriously, Quinn?” Riley broke in, “I’m finally playing along and you’re going to question my chronology?”

  “Sorry, sorry!” Quinn said, placing fervent kisses all over Riley’s face. “You’re right. So sorry. Play on.”

  Riley rolled her eyes, stuck again now.

  Quinn came to their rescue. “You always know such edgy bands, Jess. What sex act are you talking about?”

  “A tribade is a woman who gets off on another woman. It’s an old Greek term for a lesbian. Tribe 8 is a play on words.”

  “Barf me out!” Quinn replied dramatically. “We’re not gay. We’re just having fun when Biff’s not around.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Riley said, throwing off the sheet and kissing her way down Quinn’s exposed flesh. She kissed her mound and flicked her tongue between Quinn’s legs. Quinn quivered in response and let her legs fall apart for easier access. Riley was tempted to stay and please her with her mouth; Quinn smelled earthy and moist and lovely as usual. But the bed called for a different type of lovemaking.

  “We put our private parts together. Like this,” Riley said, adjusting herself into the scissors position, so that their heads were at opposite ends of the bed and their bodies met in the middle at their sweet spots. She could feel that Quinn’s pussy was already wet and ready. They started moving together, finding a rhythm that worked for them both. Their lips kissed and parted, their clits met and massaged each other. It was highly stimulating, and soon the bed was rolling and swelling in time with their most intimate cadence. Riley let herself be carr
ied away by the beating of her heart, the tempo of their hips, and the heaving of the bed. Riley abandoned the role-play in her mind, thinking only of Quinn, of their unique and loving connection tonight and every night since they’d met. They were lucky. They were so lucky. Their bodies came together at their most intimate and special of places, and with an overpowering surge of sensation, they both spilled over into shuddering release, rocking the bed violently with their spasms.

  They lay entangled for some time before Riley crawled to Quinn’s side, pushing her hair out of her eyes and smiling sweetly at her.

  “That was great,” Riley said, “but I really don’t feel the need to role-play again. Like ever.”

  “What? You were like totally righteous, babe. You nailed it in the end.”

  “I did not nail it. I nailed you. That’s all. But that’s okay because you’re the only woman I ever want to nail.”

  Quinn laughed. “You’re so eloquent, Riley. Such a romantic.”

  “Whatever. Take a chill pill.”

  “Ha! See, you do know eighties slang!”

  “I’m full of surprises. In fact, let’s go back to the hotel. I just might have another one waiting there,” Riley said with a wink, throwing Quinn’s bra toward her.

  THE END

  About the Author

  Raven Sky is a polyamorous queer femme who hails from Canada and is fueled by wanderlust, tea, books, and insatiable curiosity. She’s a free-spirited dreamer who very much enjoys doing field research for her erotica. You can find more of her sexy stories in the Bold Strokes Books anthology Escape to Pleasure: Lesbian Travel Erotica.

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Date Night by Raven Sky. Quinn and Riley are celebrating their one-year anniversary. Such an important milestone is bound to result in some extraordinary sexual adventures, but precisely how extraordinary is up to you, dear reader. (978-1-63555-655-1)

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  Tennessee Whiskey by Donna K. Ford. Dane Foster wants to put her life on pause and ask for a redo, a chance for something that matters. Emma Reynolds is that chance. (978-1-63555-556-1)

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  Finding Sky by Cass Sellars. Skylar Addison’s search for a career intersects with her new boss’s search for butterflies, but Skylar can’t forgive Jess’s intrusion into her life. (978-1-63555-521-9)

  Hammers, Strings, and Beautiful Things by Morgan Lee Miller. While on tour with the biggest pop star in the world, rising musician Blair Bennett falls in love for the first time while coping with loss and depression. (978-1-63555-538-7)

  Heart of a Killer by Yolanda Wallace. Contract killer Santana Masters’s only interest is her next assignment—until a chance meeting with a beautiful stranger tempts her to change her ways. (978-1-63555-547-9)

  Leading the Witness by Carsen Taite. When defense attorney Catherine Landauer reluctantly becomes the key witness in prosecutor Starr Rio’s latest criminal trial, their hearts, careers, and lives may be at risk. (978-1-63555-512-7)

  No Experience Required by Kimberly Cooper Griffin. Izzy Treadway has resigned herself to a life without romance because of her bipolar illness but wonders what she’s gotten herself into when she agrees to write a book about love. (978-1-63555-561-5)

  One Walk in Winter by Georgia Beers. Olivia Santini and Hayley Boyd Markham might be rivals at work, but they discover that lonely hearts often find company in the most unexpected of places. (978-1-63555-541-7)

  The Inn at Netherfield Green by Aurora Rey. Advertising executive Lauren Montgomery and gin distiller Camden Crawley don’t agree on anything except saving the Rose & Crown, the old English pub that’s brought them together. (978-1-63555-445-8)

  Top of Her Game by M. Ullrich. When it comes to life on the field and matters of the heart, losing isn’t an option for pro athletes Kenzie Shaw and Sutton Flores. (978-1-63555-500-4)

  Vanished by Eden Darry. A storm is coming, and Ellery and Loveday must find t
he chosen one or humanity won’t survive it. (978-1-63555-437-3)

  All She Wants by Larkin Rose. Marci Jones and Tessa Dalton get more than they bargained for when their plans for a one-night stand turn into an opportunity for love. (978-1-63555-476-2)

  Beautiful Accidents by Erin Zak. Stevie Adams and Bernadette Thompson discover that sometimes the best things in life happen purely by accident. (978-1-63555-497-7)

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