Restless On A Road Trip: A Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks,” she said cutely.

  “Here comes desert,” I said in a whisper. “Shh!”

  Just then, our waiter approached the table with a reserved smile. He placed a single plate between us upon which was a warm chocolate brownie, thick as hell, topped with an overlarge scoop of vanilla ice cream that had already begun melting down the side of the confection.

  “Ladies,” he said. “Here we have the molten brownie a la mode. Enjoy.” He bowed slightly and made himself scarce.

  “Oh my,” said Maggie, looking down into the desert and reaching for her desert spoon. “Oh my, oh my, oh my.”

  “Delectable,” I said, following Maggie’s lead and readying myself to dig in. “I don’t think this meal could get any better.”

  “I think it can,” said Maggie, looking up at me, her blue eyes dancing.

  The sheets on our bed where a mess, torn asunder, the bedspread collected in a heap down on the floor. The light in the room was low and warm, only the two lamps on either side of the bed lit. I lay there naked, legs spread, the wetness between them beginning to evaporate as my chest heaved up and down. My hairline felt sweaty, as did my lower back, and underneath my knees. My belly rose and then it fell. I could still feel the little judders of orgasm travel through me, tiny pulses of energy, wonderful pleasure.

  I lowered my hand and caressed myself, my own creaminess sticking lightly to my fingers as I tenderly petted. I was eager for more. Being with Maggie had opened me up sexually, in more ways than one, and I longed for her to return from the bathroom and resume touching me.

  Maggie was right. Hotel sex was a different kind of sex.

  I heard the door to the bathroom pop open and I looked across the room. Maggie sashayed out, a spring in her step. She was dancing, one foot in front of the other, grinning happily. Her blonde hair was tied back in a loose bun, she was topless, her breasts softly jiggling as she moved. Maggie still wore her panties, beige shiny satin with strawberries emblazoned on them, but I noticed something odd. There was a huge bulge underneath the fabric. Her dancing was designed to accentuate the bulge, like she was showing off.

  “What the hell is that?” I asked. I placed a hand on my upper chest, still collecting my breath.

  “This ol’ thing?” Maggie said casually. Reaching down, she pushed her hand into her underwear and yanked out the bulge, holding it up for me to see. It was a very familiar looking purple silicon dildo.

  “No,” I said.

  “Yes,” she countered.

  “You took that thing from that girl’s place in Salt Lake City?”

  “You know it,” Maggie said, grinning wide, inspecting the toy. “I figured we should have a keepsake from our trip, a little reminder of the sprouting of our relationship.”

  Maggie waltzed over to me and sat down on the side of the bed.

  “I can’t believe you,” I said.

  “Relax,” she replied. “I sent her a message apologizing.”

  “Yeah, how did that go?”

  “Well, I just told her that as a joke my drunk friend hid her, um, device…” said Maggie with a wildness in her face. “Hid it in my toiletry bag and we drove off with it. I told her I’d send her some money to cover the cost. She thought it was funny.”

  “I’m going to have to watch you like a hawk,” I said. “If I don’t keep my eyes on you, you’re going to get us in a lot of trouble.”

  “I think you enjoy my whimsical ways,” she said, lowering the toy to me, guiding it between my legs, and tracing it along my cleft.

  “Stop!” I said through a rolling laughter, swatting at her hand. I loved it.

  “Besides,” Maggie continued on. “We used the hell out of this thing and it would have been pretty weird to leave it for that chick to use again on herself.”

  “It’s pretty weird that we used it at all!”

  “I guess,” Maggie intoned. “You love it, though,” she said, snickering, looking at me as though she could read me completely.

  “It drives me pretty wild,” I said. “It’s exciting.”

  “I know.”

  Letting the toy flop to the bed, Maggie climbed up and wriggled toward me, falling to my side, slinging one arm over my belly, and pressing her lips thirstily to mine. Kissing her brought me so much joy. I reached my hands up to her face and held on, the two of us lightly moaning as we pressed together. I could feel the desire brewing up inside of me once again, remembering how expertly Maggie had brought me to climax just minutes before. I yearned to make her feel the same way she made me feel.

  I slipped my hand between her legs and felt the slippery satin of her panties, moving my fingers back and forth against her, applying a firm pressure, feeling her mound through the fabric. Just the slightest hint of wetness came through as I caressed her. We were both beginning to breathe heavier through our ardent kissing, chests pressing together, flesh sticking. I could smell a hint of salty perspiration mixed with the recognizable musky aroma of sex.

  “I want to fuck you so bad,” I sighed out in a breathy murmur between kisses.

  “I want you to do that, too,” teased Maggie.

  “Take these off,” I whined, tugging at her panties.

  “All right,” she said, applying one more kiss to my lips before she rolled onto her back and started quickly shifting out of her underwear. I watched reverently as she did, Maggie pushing the shiny fabric down her thighs, little grunts coming from her mouth, squirming a bit as she got them further down her legs and then rapidly kicking them off as soon as they reached her feet. “How’s that?”

  “I like it,” I said. As though my movements were out of my control, I slipped my hand back between her legs and caressed her front to back, back to front, loving the soft tactility of her pussy, greedy to feel its increasing wetness. I pressed a finger between her slit and adored her.

  “Mmm,” she cooed, grinding her butt down into the bed. “I think you’re getting the hang of this.”

  “I’m catching on.”

  As Maggie relaxed back into the bed, I hopped up onto my knees and positioned myself at her side, still lovingly massaging her back and forth. With a smile across her face, Maggie widened her legs to give me greater access and I took advantage, petting her with more urgency now, pressing my fingers against her to part her lips, exploring her pinkness, watching as her beautiful flesh shimmered with dewiness. I scouted through her folds, admiring, until I brought a single finger up to her clit and slowly began to maneuver it in a circle.

  “There we go,” said Maggie, eyes closed, grinning. Her arms snaked upward and latched on to the headboard as her hips widened and her legs splayed out further. Lowering my face down now toward her middle, with my finger still attending to her bead, I pressed a firm kiss on her wet lips and inhaled. Maggie’s aroma was botanical and inviting. Then I offered her a long, slow lick.

  Maggie shivered, body pulsing, a laugh leaving her mouth. I felt one of her hands pet through my hair as I kissed her again, I licked, I suckled. With my palm against her bush my thumb touched on her point, firmly stroking it as I pleasured her lips to lips.

  “That’s nice, Dana,” she whispered. “Oh,” Maggie sighed long and low. “That’s really nice.”

  I loved the feeling of Maggie’s moistness on my face, my lips buried into her, and I exalted in the taste of her. It was subtly floral, with a light sweetness mixed with something tart or mineral flavored. I wasn’t used it to quite yet but I lapped at it hungrily. It made me feel close to Maggie, her flavor, her texture, her fragrance. It made me feel like we had a wonderful shared secret.

  Pulling back to take a breath, I adoringly rubbed my lips over Maggie’s fur, kissing her mound, nestling my nose into it. As I did this, Maggie pushed her fingers through my hair, giving me a light tug, grinding her butt into the bed. I could tell she was totally turned on, ready for more, eager for arousal. Little moans came from her mouth with each breath almost as though she were whimpering. It
was sweet and it made me feel loved.

  I sat up on my knees now, swiftly pushing a tress of my hair behind my ear, and searched around the bed. Maggie had opened her eyes and watched intently. The grin on her face grew as I lifted up the purple toy and showed it to her.

  “Yes please,” she said, quickly nodding.

  Returning my focus to her heat, I let my free hand fall to her mound, resting atop it, as my thumb lightly resumed diddling her clit. Maggie moaned and let her head fall back to the pillow, succumbing once more to the passionate joy welling up in her figure. With the dildo in my opposing hand, I aimed it toward her middle and guided it to her pleated flesh. She was drenched, shimmering, and when I pressed the toy against her, Maggie easily accepted it inside.

  “Oh-ho-ho God,” said Maggie, her face contorting as she welcomed the pleasure. Her shoulders lifted up off the bed slightly as her body folded upward, quickly dropping back to the sheets, squinting her eyes, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape. I slowly pulled the rod out of her, watching her flesh grip to it, transfixed by her sex, and then I pressed it back into her.

  I started to quicken my pace, my wrist flicking, inspiring a wet melody to sound off from Maggie’s middle. It was dulcet, sweet, a thrilling chorus that made me eager to keep up. And Maggie loved it. Her moans entered my ears and made the hair on my arms stand on end. As I penetrated her with that purple totem, a milkiness began to accumulate at the base of the toy near my hand. My heart raced.

  “Slow down,” said Maggie between breaths. I was getting ahead of myself, enjoying it so much that my pace sped up too much. I looked to Maggie and nodded and she just smiled back at me, her face flushed, sweat on her brow line. I could read the needy lust in her face. “Thank you.”

  Wrapping her arms around herself now, Maggie closed her eyes and concentrated, her lower half bouncing slowly, evenly, as I continued my thrusting with the toy. Her mouth hung open slightly, her face steady and staid. I made sure to focus some attention on her clit, manipulating it with my thumb, and I could see that whenever I hit her in just the right spot her hips would jerk slightly, her belly clench, her face exude more satisfaction. I could sense she was getting close.

  Maggie started pumping her legs, almost getting antsy, and even though I could see in her face that she was enjoying it, she seemed to want more. I wasn’t quite sure how to give it to her, I wasn’t sure what she wanted, but as I kneeled there on the bed in some sexual trance, my inhibitions dropped and I knew then I was game for anything.

  “What can I do?” I mewed. Maggie’s eyes opened and looked at me. We shared a glance for a moment before she quickly scooted up, causing the toy to slip out of her though I kept my grip on it. Maggie flipped herself over, collapsing her top half down into the pillows while sticking her backside up in the air. Her butt was nice and plump, thick, pale, slightly reddened from her previous grinding into the bed.

  I took a deep breath and ran my palm over one of her cheeks. I was entranced. I exhaled and my breath wavered, almost spluttering, my heart thumping hard against my chest. Dropping the dildo down to the bed, I plunged my hand between Maggie’s thighs and fondled her, pulling at her elasticity, running my fingers through her wetness. My arousal was through the roof and I could feel the humidity between my own legs as I praised her. And before I knew it, I was lowering my face down closer to her backside.

  “Oh fuck,” Maggie moaned into the pillows as I ran my tongue over her rear. She squirmed, she arched her back, she subtly bounced back and forth. At first I felt fear. But as my tongue continued to run over her rim, my hand still between her legs, massaging, tugging, I grew more confident and more steady. I felt like, as I kept on lapping at her, the arousal inside of me was growing leaps as bounds as well. It was a new experience for me and it was immensely exciting.

  Pulling back, panting, I looked down at her ass and smiled to myself. I pressed my thumb against her rim, applying firm pressure, pushing down, petting her adoringly. With my other hand, I gingerly slid two fingers into her accepting aperture, pulling them out, pushing them back in. Maggie was juddering and jerking. It made me feel incredible to watch her heave in pleasure.

  “So good,” she intoned. “So good.”

  As our lovemaking continued, I grew more courageous still, beginning to prod at her rear with my finger, running my finger around the exposed ripples. I felt like something novel was happening to me, the creation of some sort of desire inside of me. The more I looked, the harder I found it to look away. My finger offered solid, methodical strokes and it was making Maggie insane. Her body was rocking back and forth, each exhale was a moan. Soon, almost as though I knew what I was doing, I brought my wet fingers up and back, using them now to massage her backside.

  I was just in some sexual autopilot. Truly. It was hot and exciting and it was different. I felt like I was watching myself do it, or like I was watching a sexy movie and I was doing what I wanted to watch next.

  I switched hands, my left hand moving to Maggie’s pussy and stroking it while my right hand, with fingers wet, caressed her rear over and over, firmer and firmer. I was quavering myself, almost shaking, eyes wide, feeling a tingling in my thighs.

  “Yeah,” said Maggie steadily, her hips gyrating as though she were riding my hands. “Mmm, I’m so close, so close.”

  I felt Maggie’s backside dilate just slightly and before I knew it, my fingertip had entered inside. Just as I started to pet around, however, I felt Maggie’s rim clench down tight, her entire middle tightening up, as she began to uncontrollably squirm.

  “Fuck!” she cried, shivering and vibrating, hips bucking until her entire body fell down to the softness of the bed in a reflexive tremor. Maggie held onto herself, legs kicking, face gritting, head trying to burrow into the pillows. Her orgasmic pleasure sent shockwaves through me. The connection between us was palpable.

  I watched intently as Maggie writhed, placing my hand on the back of her thigh, adoringly stroking her. She would clench, then relax, then do it all over again, sometimes sporadically shifting in one direction. I loved watching her come. It made me feel impossibly accomplished.

  Exhaling a deep breath, Maggie turned over and lay on her back, one hand on her own belly, smiling sweatily up at me. I looked down to her and cherished her. Reaching out, I traced my finger along her arm.

  “Did you lick my butt?” Maggie said teasingly, wildly grinning, obviously over the moon.

  “I did lick your butt,” I admitted, feeling embarrassed but also totally flustered. In a good way.

  “What’d you think?”

  I took a deep breath and thought about it, my finger haphazardly drawing circles on Maggie’s skin.

  “I liked it,” I said shortly, looking off. Maggie laughed contentedly.

  “I loved it,” she said. “Oh my God, that gets me off so hard.”

  “I really felt, like, when I was doing it,” I said. “I felt like I was getting close to getting off, too.”

  “Really?” beamed Maggie.

  “Oh man,” I said. “It kind of felt like this forbidden thing. I don’t know!” I shrugged and smiled happily.

  “Mmm,” hummed Maggie, squirming a little into the sheets as she relaxed. The room was quiet for a moment, the blankets askew, our naked bodies resting atop it, the light low. It felt like a perfect scene. “Sometimes you just need to open up and try wild stuff to know what you truly like,” she said finally.

  “I’m beginning to see that,” I said.

  “Like how you’ve opened up and now you’re fucking ladies! Well, this lady,” said Maggie, snickering. Then she gasped like she’d been taken by surprise. “Can you believe it? You try the thing you’ve wanted all along and — surprise — you enjoy it.”

  “Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes at her. “I get it.”

  “I’m just funning around with you,” she said, grinning sweetly up at me. “Come lay with me.”

  Without another word, I slipped down next to her and cradled into her. I wrapped
an arm around her and we snuggled, happily coalescing into one another’s warmth. A joyful sigh exited my lips.

  “I’d do it again,” I said after a few moments of silence. “The licking.”

  “You know how to please a gal,” said Maggie, petting her fingers through my hair.

  “I just want to make you happy,” I said.

  “I am so happy, Dana,” she said. “Like, really and truly happy.”

  “Me too,” I said. “Really and truly.”

  We cuddled there together in the soft orange light of the hotel room, our breathing quickly becoming syncopated, hearts joining in the orchestration. I loved Maggie, I loved her as an old friend, I loved our history together and what that meant to my own personal story, and I loved the story we were writing together. This felt real. This felt like it could work, you know, for the long haul. And that filled me with so much hope for everything to come. All the negativity I’d felt in my past, I felt like this thing that was happening between Maggie and I was washing it all away.

  “I love you,” murmured Maggie, kissing my head, stroking me, limbs intertwined, her words lending to the possibility that she could read my mind.

  “I love you, too,” I said. I meant it. This was my life and I’d never been more ready to live it.

  The radio played at a low volume. It was a melodic tune, kind of electronic but with a slow tempo rock beat. It was comfortable and serene. Outside of the car, however, traffic was terrible. We had only recently made it back to Illinois and it felt like as soon as we entered the state, construction had started. But that was just hyperbole. We’d already made it through a lot of the farmland and were probably just a few hours outside of the city.

  Maggie had her eyes focused on the road, one hand at the bottom of the wheel, though we weren’t really moving. She bobbed her head along with the music as I sat in the passenger seat, barefoot, in shorts, one leg pulled up with my arms wrapped around my knee. I know we were both tired — exhausted, really, from the trip and all that driving. The drive home from a road trip is never as fun as the drive out. The drive out, you’re filled with possibility. You know your responsibilities have been suspended for a while. You know that you’re destined for a good time. The drive home, though, it makes you wish it weren’t all coming to an end.