“Well, I’m safe,” Amara answered and finally glanced at Hillary. She offered her a smile that went from shy to wicked when her eyes moved down to notice Hillary still had no shirt on. “But I’m not feeling all that well.” The wicked smile grew wider. “I think I need to take a sick day.”
“I can send someone to pick you up and get you home. I’ll ask Mark to check–”
“No, Dad. I don’t need anyone to check on me. It’s just a bad headache. Listen, I’m going to get back to sleep. I think getting some rest is the best thing. I’ll call you later, okay?” She hung up.
“You didn’t even wait for a response?” Hillary chuckled.
“No.” Amara placed the phone back onto the table, but not before pressing the screen a few times first. “Do not disturb,” she explained and moved back to her original position.
Hillary stared down at her for a moment, wondering what to do next.
“Did I ruin it?” Amara asked.
Hillary slid back on top of her, leaned down, and captured her lips.
“Not even a little bit. Turns out, I have a thing for rebels.”
Hillary kissed her again and lowered her own body down into Amara’s, spreading the woman’s legs in the process to settle between them. She pressed down. Amara rose instinctively to meet her with her hips. Hillary kissed Amara’s throat and between her breasts before she lowered her lips more and slid her tongue into the woman’s belly button, withdrew it, and repeated the action a few more times. She glanced up to see that Amara’s perfect green eyes were staring down at her, awaiting her next move. The light, coming from between the vertical blinds that came standard in nearly every apartment, applied highlights to the dark pupils. Amara’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Hillary lifted herself up to kneel between her legs; she then ran her hands up and down Amara’s torso, stopping to grasp and squeeze her breasts before holding her own hands in place on Amara’s hips, at the waistband of her pants.
“I’m sure, Hill,” Amara said with such confidence in her tone that Hillary believed her.
She pulled down on the pants, leaving Amara’s underwear in place, and continued to tug and move until she had them off before going back to her place between Amara’s legs. She met Amara’s eyes first before her own flitted to the juncture between Amara’s thighs. The white bikinis left little to the imagination: Hillary could see the dark red curls beneath the fabric; and the fact that they were also wet and nearly soaked through made it even easier. Hillary gulped before she slid further down and placed her head between Amara’s thighs to kiss the sensitive skin just above the woman’s left knee. Amara shifted slightly and then twitched as Hillary moved her lips higher and higher, placing gentle kisses on her skin. She then kissed just at the edge of Amara’s underwear before shifting to repeat her movements on Amara’s right thigh. Amara groaned; her hips lifted. Hillary sensed her own wetness pooling between her legs. She wondered if she could come just by kissing this woman’s skin, because it sure felt like she was close.
Hillary waited a moment before moving to Amara’s center. She breathed in the smell of the woman’s arousal and couldn’t resist sliding her tongue over the fabric. Amara jumped. Hillary lifted her eyes to see that Amara’s eyes were now closed, and her hands were in fists at her sides. She repeated the motion but applied more pressure this time. She could feel the hardness of Amara’s clit through the fabric; she could feel the woman’s hips lifting even more as she licked her again, applying even more pressure.
“God, I want you,” Hillary uttered.
She pulled at a side of Amara’s underwear until it was out of her way, and she licked Amara again, applying direct pressure and contact to the woman’s clit. Hillary licked her again, and again, until she needed more access. She tugged at the underwear in her way and worried she might rip them as she tried to get them off Amara’s body. So, she moved just enough to tear them from her skin before she resettled and immediately sucked Amara into her mouth.
“Oh, God,” Amara breathed out, and her body tensed further.
Hillary sucked harder. She wanted to slide inside Amara, but she also wanted to enjoy this, just this, for a minute. She wanted the same for the woman in front of her. Amara had never had anyone touch her this intimately before; Hillary wanted her to be able to remember each second of this experience. Hillary was sure that she, herself, would remember every moment, every sensation of the woman beneath her and their first time together. She used her hands to spread Amara further, and Amara complied. Hillary heard something and opened her eyes to see Amara’s fists pounding the bed every few seconds. She smiled at the thought of what she was doing to the woman, reached for both of Amara’s hands, and moved them to her own head. Amara held them there.
Hillary felt Amara press her head down into her center even more. She slid her hands under Amara, gripped her ass, and lifted. Her hands then moved around to Amara’s hips, where she gripped them tightly. She slid her tongue down and inside Amara once, twice, and a third time as Amara bucked into her mouth. Hillary groaned this time: Amara tasted so good; her skin felt so good; everything about her felt so good. No, everything about her felt right.
Her tongue returned to Amara’s clit; she sucked it hard before allowing her tongue to play. She stroked and stroked, moving around the woman’s clit just when it appeared Amara was about to burst, to make it last longer. Amara whimpered a few times and gripped Hillary’s head harder. Hillary sucked once more. Then, she pressed her tongue fully against Amara as the woman’s hips lifted faster and faster. Amara came against the flatness of her tongue, holding Hillary’s head tightly against herself, hips bucking wildly into her release. Hillary remained in place as she took in the sounds of Amara’s orgasm: she wasn’t loud, but she wasn’t quiet either. She moaned Hillary’s name. Then, she gasped a few times, let out a small sigh, and moaned a deep moan before her hips lowered for the last time and her hands released their grip on Hillary’s head.
Hillary kissed Amara’s center, her thighs, her hips, her stomach, and then the spot between Amara’s breasts as she moved up the woman’s body. She stared down at Amara, then wasted no time and slid one finger inside her body. Hillary wasn’t sure how much the woman would be able to handle. She was very wet; Hillary’s finger slid inside easily. She watched Amara’s eyes close at the unexpected contact before she slid the finger out and returned back in with a second finger.
“You okay?” she checked.
“Yes,” Amara whispered.
Hillary settled on top of the woman and slid her fingers in and out slowly. She kissed her deeply and wondered if Amara had ever tasted herself. If her own taste on her lips was a shock, Amara didn’t let on. She wrapped her arms around Hillary’s back before sliding them down and settling them on Hillary’s ass, encouraging her down into herself. Amara wanted her, of that Hillary was sure. The woman’s hands gripped her ass so tightly, Hillary felt the pain, but she didn’t care. She slid her fingers into the warm wetness between Amara’s legs, moving slightly faster but not pressing any deeper, giving the woman time to adjust to her strokes. She hadn’t thought to ask Amara if she’d ever used anything inside herself. She’d ask later, because right now, Amara’s hips were lifting to meet her thrusts. Hillary was moving in time, and before she knew it, Amara was rocking faster. Hillary’s fingers started to move just as fast, but she let Amara lead this dance as she reveled in the amazement of touching this woman in a way that no one else had ever done.
Amara came on a particularly well-timed thrust. Her sounds were even better than the first time. Her hips continued to ride out her pleasure as Hillary continued to stroke her inside until Amara’s hands loosened their grip and her hips became still. She was breathing so fast. Hillary lowered her body on top of Amara, to take in the sound of the woman’s thundering heart; her fingers remained inside. Her own heart was beating just as wildly and matched the pulse between her legs that was begging for her to do something about it. After a moment, she removed her fingers slowly
and slid off Amara’s body, resting her head on her elbow as she faced Amara.
Amara’s eyes were open now; she was staring at the ceiling. For a long moment, Hillary just stared at her, hoping they hadn’t gone too far. Amara wasn’t saying anything, though, and the longer she stared up at the white, cottage-cheese-looking ceiling of Hillary’s apartment, the more worried Hillary grew about Amara’s reaction to what they’d just done. They weren’t touching anymore. Amara had made no move to reach for her. Hillary didn’t know what to do. Had she gone too far? Should she have stopped it much earlier? Had she just screwed up something that felt so unbelievably perfect to her?
“That was so much better than I had imagined,” Amara said after what felt like forever. She let out a soft laugh. “And I had imagined it a million different ways.” She laughed a little harder.
Hillary let out a nervous breath and smiled down at her.
“You have? With me?”
“So many times.” Amara laughed more.
“Really?” Hillary joined her and laughed softly. She reached for Amara’s stomach and ran her still somewhat wet fingers across the woman’s skin. “How often? When did it start? What were we doing in these fantasies?”
Amara laughed louder at her questions, and a tear ran down her cheek. Hillary leaned forward and kissed it away before using her free hand to play with Amara’s hair.
“Can I answer all those questions later?” Amara turned her face to Hillary.
“Sure. Are you okay? Do you–”
“Want to do the things I imagined doing to you right now? Yes,” Amara asked the question playfully and then answered it herself.
Hillary laughed at that as Amara climbed on top of her. It seemed like the woman’s nervousness from before was completely non-existent as she straddled Hillary’s waist. Her hands hesitated for a moment before they slid up from Hillary’s stomach to her breasts. Hillary felt the intimate touches, but she was more enamored with the woman above her. Amara’s skin was flushed, her breathing still hadn’t calmed, her hair was even more mussed than before. Hillary smiled at her earlier thought about Amara’s after-sex hair. She’d been correct: the woman was even sexier now. Her attention returned to Amara’s hands on her breasts as Amara started playing with her nipples. When she tweaked them, Hillary’s hips rose and met Amara’s center. Amara’s hands stilled, and her confidence seemed to disappear.
CHAPTER 19
“What’s wrong?” Hillary asked.
She ran her hand along Amara’s cheek and slid the woman’s hair behind her ears.
“I want to do everything.” She smiled nervously. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Can you take my clothes off?” Hillary asked.
Amara looked down. For the first time, she realized Hillary was still clothed from the waist down. So, she lifted herself up, pulled off the remainder of Hillary’s clothing, took a moment to take in the woman’s body, and climbed back atop her.
“You’re beautiful,” Amara commented. “But what if I can’t make you…” She faded.
“Oh, baby.” Hillary lifted up on her elbows. “Do you have any idea how turned on I am right now?”
It was the exact wrong time to ask this question; Amara knew that. They probably should have talked about this more prior to doing anything. But waking up next to Hillary had felt so right. When Hillary had moved to kiss her, Amara knew that this was what she’d wanted all along. She’d wanted a woman to wake up to, to kiss like that, to make love to, and to fall asleep next to. She’d spent the better part of a year staring at Hillary across a crowded café, never thinking she’d get up the courage to have moments like this with her. Hillary’s touches were like fire. Amara had had orgasms by her own hand numerous times imagining Hillary as the woman delivering the touches; she’d never come like that before, though. Now, she wanted to do the same to the woman beneath her, but she had no clue where to start.
“Come down here,” Hillary requested in the softest of voices.
Amara complied, lowering herself so that her lips were just above Hillary’s.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t nervous before, but now I am.”
“I’m going to spread my legs,” Hillary said, smiled up at Amara, and gave her a peck on the lips before moving to slide her legs apart.
Amara had to lift up to allow it, and when she lowered herself back down, their centers were pressed together for the first time.
“This feels…”
God, she wished she could just be confident, brave, assertive, or whatever the right word was that summed up what she needed to be in this moment. She wanted nothing more than to touch every part of Hillary’s body and make her feel good. But she was faltering. Hillary’s hand slid between their bodies, and she used two fingers to spread Amara’s lips, causing Amara to buck her hips down into the woman. Hillary smirked up at her. She used her free hand to repeat the action, except this time, to her own center. Amara understood. She smiled down at Hillary and lowered her body all the way as Hillary removed her hands from between them.
“Perfect,” Hillary finished her sentence. “This feels perfect.”
Amara rocked into Hillary; her hands were on either side of Hillary’s face. Hillary’s hands found purchase on Amara’s lower back; her hips lifted up slightly in time with Amara’s hips moving down.
“Yes,” Amara agreed in a grunt.
Their clits were pressed against one another; she could feel Hillary’s wetness mingling with her own. She’d thought two orgasms was more than she could handle, but she’d been wrong. Feeling Hillary beneath her like this, knowing how wet she was because of her, realizing that Hillary was gripping her ass now and encouraging her to press down even harder into her, had Amara near climax again. She pressed her lips to Hillary’s, and their kiss started slow. Her tongue slid across Hillary’s bottom lip; Hillary’s mouth opened and allowed her inside. Hillary moaned. Amara moaned back. Their rocking continued to build in speed. Hillary’s clit seemed hard against her own. Their shared wetness allowed for just the right amount of friction. Amara pulled their lips apart and moved her mouth to Hillary’s neck.
“Yes,” Hillary let out when Amara licked just behind her earlobe.
“Like this?” Amara asked as she thrust hard against Hillary’s center while she sucked on the woman’s pulse point.
“God, yes,” Hillary confirmed. “Again.”
Amara repeated the move with her hips and sucked harder.
“I’m close,” Amara told her, wishing she could prevent herself from coming, because this was supposed to be about Hillary, but her orgasm was building. She knew it was only a matter of moments. “God, Hillary, I’m so close.”
“Come for me.” Hillary gripped her ass tightly. “I’m close, too. Come for me.”
Amara did. At Hillary’s request, she came. Moments later, Hillary’s sounds danced in the air alongside her own as she came, too. Amara couldn’t stop as her hips moved on their own and wildly continued to thrust into Hillary’s sex. Hillary didn’t seem to mind. She rode out her own orgasm and rolled them over so that she was now on top of Amara. Before Amara realized what was happening, Hillary’s fingers were inside her again, and her hips were driving down into Amara. This time, Hillary had only one thigh between her own. Her center was over Amara’s thigh, and she was rocking into it. She wanted to come again; and she, apparently, wanted Amara to come again as well, as her fingers dipped in and out of Amara’s sex.
“Hill!” Amara near-yelled.
Hillary rocked faster. Amara moved her hand to the apex of Hillary’s thighs and did what she wanted. That was it: she did what she wanted. She didn’t think; she didn’t worry; she just did it. She slid one hand between her own thigh and Hillary’s center, and then moved two fingers inside her.
“Yes!” Hillary sat up slightly then.
Amara’s hips continued to move, as did her fingers. Both women were rocking together, thrusting together, enjoying together. Hillary’s breathing was labo
red. Her skin was flushed with arousal and heat. Amara’s eyes remained open as she watched Hillary take her and get taken by her. They moved in time and came together. Hillary lowered back down on top of her, and they pressed their heated flesh tightly together as they each focused on their breathing. Hillary pulled her fingers out first; Amara followed suit. She placed her hands on Hillary’s back, holding the woman tightly to herself. Hillary rested her face in the crook of Amara’s neck. Her breathing had slowed but still wasn’t at its usual speed.
There were words Amara wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. If she said them now, Hillary would think it was because they’d just had sex. Those words might even push Hillary away. They might worry her or make the woman think that she was stuck with Amara now that she’d been her first. So, Amara gulped them down instead, but she knew she felt them. For a moment, she considered and wondered if they’d been there all along. Love at first sight had never seemed like a possibility for her. Love hadn’t ever seemed like a possibility for her. Then, there was beautiful, intelligent, caring Hillary who was softly breathing against her neck.
“Are you really taking a sick day?” Hillary asked, lips pressed to her skin.
“Yes.”
“I have a class at two,” Hillary replied. “We could maybe fall back asleep for a couple of hours. Then, I could make you breakfast, like I promised.”
“That sounds nice.”
“We could take a shower together, spend some more time in bed; and if you want, you could come to campus with me.”
“Yeah?”
“I have two classes, but we could do dinner after if you’re free,” Hillary proposed and kissed Amara’s neck. “You could stay over again.”
She tensed at that suggestion and replied, “Dinner sounds great.”
“But not the staying over?” Hillary must have felt her reaction. “Is it your dad?”
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