some femslash for the naughty list
Dec. 24th, 2003 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lierdumoaHappy Christmas everyone! I present to you 3,197 words worth of lesbian erotica. I suppose this isn't much of a Christmas present, but whatever. Gimme eight hours of sleep and I'll think of something better to give you.
Title: Flower
Fandom: Chicago (the musical)
Pairing: Roxie/Velma
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The evolution of a relationship.
Everybody went to see the big show. Velma Kelly and Roxie Hart, together at last. Shimmering little dresses and long, long legs. Sex and gin and all that jazz. They dazzled Chicago, that night. The applause was deafening.
Velma didn't wear any underwear during the performance. She never wore underwear the first night she did an act. It was a good luck thing. Half the time a garter wouldn't fit under her costumes anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. At least, Velma didn't think it was.
Now, Velma wasn't exactly what one would call modest. She was used to working in night clubs where privacy was a rare commodity, to say the least. So when Roxie followed her into the dressing room chattering happily about publicity, Velma didn't give a second thought to shucking off her glitter-white excuse for a dress right in front of the blonde. After all, she'd done it a hundred times before with her last dance partner.
But then, her last dance partner had been her sister. And if the abrupt halt in conversation was any indication, Roxie was anything but Velma's sister.
Velma suddenly found herself in a very uncomfortable situation. She was used to being nude, or partially nude. It was part of the job, really. She wasn't used to feeling naked, however. She wasn't used to feeling vulnerable, and that's exactly how Roxie was making her feel. So Velma did what she always did when faced with an awkward situation. She turned crass.
Her lips curved into a smirk. She turned towards Roxie and asked her, “See something you like?” at the same time sliding a thumb down one bruise-brown areola, over a nipple that budded under her touch.
A soft flush of arousal lighted Roxie’s cheekbones. For a moment, she was too shocked to speak. But only for a moment. Once she regained control of her faculties, she managed to disguise her initial reaction with a well practiced sneer. “You're disgusting,” she hissed.
Velma raised an eyebrow, then went back to dressing.
~*~*~*~*~*~
For the second performance, Velma did wear underwear. It was only a first time ritual, after all. It was a small measure of decorum, and not enough to stop Roxie from snapping “Wait till I leave the room, this time,” as the two of them entered the dressing room.
Now, if there was anything Velma hated, it was other people telling her what to do. Especially if those other people were smug blonde bitches who liked to walk around as if they owned the place. Never one to shy away from confrontations, Velma marched up until she was nose to nose with Roxie and, in a low murmur, said, “Afraid you'll see something you like?”
Roxie slapped her. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but Roxie hadn't exactly been thinking clearly. She wasn't good in panic situations, if the incident with Fred Casely was any example. Apparently being faced with Velma Kelly in seduction mode qualified as a panic situation. Velma put her hand to the reddening imprint on her face. She then growled and lunged, smashing her red, snarling mouth to Roxie's and biting painfully into the blonde's soft, full bottom lip.
She was only trying to prove a point, really.
She certainly wasn't expecting Roxie to kiss back.
~*~*~*~*~*~
They didn't talk about the kiss. Not until after the fourth show. Velma found Roxie leaning back against the dressing room door with her eyes closed, mouth was slightly open, panting softly, exhausted. Her skin was flushed and soft looking, painted in a fine sheen of sweat.
The sight of her was hypnotic. Velma found herself slipping off her stilettos to pad stealthily towards the blonde. Soon she was leaning forwards, pressing flush against Roxie's slender figure. Thighs to thighs. Breasts to breasts. Roxie's eyes flew open in surprise as Velma's hand found her flank.
And inched upwards.
Ever so slowly.
Past thin stockings and garters to bare flesh. Higher still to the edge of thin silk panties. Velma slid her fingers over the smooth cloth to press her thumb teasingly over the vertical line parting Roxie's mound. “Tell me to stop,” she said, pressing forward through the thin fabric, finding the outline of Roxie's clit with the tip of a fingernail. “Tell me to stop,” she said, rubbing rough friction against the sensitive flesh until moisture began to dampen the fabric under her hand.
Roxie's breathing turned ragged. Her knees began to tremble. Velma stroked harder against the slip of underwear, faster, until...
*Tell me.*
Roxie came without a word.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The night of the fifth show, Roxie decided it was time to talk. She waited for Velma in the taxi that would carry the two of them back to their hotel. As soon as Velma got in and the door swung shut behind her, Roxie snapped, “What do you want from me?”
Velma raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
Roxie tried again. “What do you want from me, huh? We hate each other. Why do you keep doing this?”
“Because it feels good, Roxie. Why do you think?”
“But...”
“Aw, what do you want me to say? That I've started to like you? I don't do sweet romantic crap. This isn't real, Roxie. It's just a good time.”
“What, so you're just using me?” The tremor in her voice almost sounded like hurt. “Then how come I'm the only one getting off?”
“Oh, I get off, Roxie. I'm just not dumb enough to do it when you're watching. You're such a fucking slut, Roxie. You never stop and think.”
Roxie's fist went flying. Velma caught it before it hit her face. She then shoved Roxie back so that her other arm was trapped between her body and the car door.
“Let me go!” Roxie cried, her tone filled with impotent rage.
Velma pushed her way under Roxie's coat with her free hand, slid her hand up the blonde's skirt, grabbed her panties, and ripped them off, feeling the thin fabric tear roughly against Roxie's inner thighs.
“Let me go!” Roxie said again, her voice hitting a more hysterical not.
Velma jerked Roxie's legs apart with a knee and, in one swift motion, shoved two fingers deep inside the blonde. Roxie was already wet, her juices sliding between Velma's grasping fingers even as her protestations grew louder and more frantic.
“Get off me, Velma,” She shrieked. Her body belied her words, thighs falling farther apart, folds opening invitingly around Velma's relentlessly thrusting fingers.
Velma leaned in, bringing her lips in close to Roxie's ear. Her voice was a seductive drawl. “You're so loose, baby. So wet. God, you want this don't you? So loose, you fucking whore...”
Roxie bit off a curse. Velma added another finger, reaching up, sliding along moist surfaces to find a spot, a slight change in texture deep inside Roxie's quim. She stroked it with the pads of her fingers, small rotating motions . “Get...V-Velma,” Roxie panted, her vision blurring, her muscles rippling around Velma's knuckles.
“V-Velma!”
Roxie screamed the name, drawing out the last syllable till her throat grew raw and her voice faded into silence. Eventually the world came back into focus, and Roxie was stunned by the sight that greeted her. Velma had her eyes squeezed shut, and her breath was wheezing out though clenched teeth. She seemed almost to sway slightly as she knelt between Roxie's legs.
Roxie stared as Velma slowly withdrew her fingers. She watched helplessly as the brunette lifted the slick digits towards her mouth, closer, closer, lips falling open. Then, suddenly, Velma opened her eyes, her fingers still inches away from her mouth. Her hand halted in its motion as she became aware of Roxie's assessing gaze. An unreadable expression crossed her face.
Roxie blinked.
And then Velma was pressing her lips together in a hard pale line and reaching over mechanically to wipe her fingers in the discarded remains of Roxie's underwear. She was swinging her legs down over the seat. She was pushing herself back towards the other side of the car, removing herself as far from Roxie as possible.
She was saying something.
“The taxi's stopped.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
The driver was paid an extra large tip to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Velma and Roxie did the same for free. The two went back to their separate hotel rooms. And did not speak.
Until after the sixth show.
They were given separate dressing rooms that time. Their growing fame provided them with greater and greater amenities. Roxie spitefully insisted on different taxis to take them back to their hotel. It became apparent that she wished to avoid Velma entirely.
Her plans were foiled when she found Velma in her room, lounging on her bed. “They gave us the whole tenth floor suite, you know. You’ve got a room all to yourself.”
“Well, maybe I’d prefer some company.”
Velma toed her shoes off her feet. Her legs were bare of stockings, and it was a simple matter to reach under her skirt and pull her panties down and off. She then scooted to the edge of the bed, leaned back on her elbows, and spread her knees wide. “Now considering all I’ve done for you –“
“Oh yeah, you’re a giver.”
“I think it’s time I got something in return.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to see you come.”
“And you won’t. Did you think this would be a face to face thing? That you’d crawl up on the bed and hump me? No, you’re putting that sweet little mouth of yours to work.”
Roxie took a moment to process that bit of information. She then looked down between Velma’s thighs. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’s easy. Easier than a guy, anyway.”
“As if you’d know?”
“You said it Roxie. I’m a giver. I give as good as I get.”
Roxie lifted her gaze from Velma’s crotch to meet the woman’s eyes. A warm heat settled deep in her abdomen. “You promise?”
Velma smiled, then threw her head back with a sensuous whine. Suddenly Roxie found herself kneeling between the brunette’s thighs, reaching out with her tongue to play along damp surfaces. Velma was…purple-red, cracked with shadows. She tasted…dark. Strange.
Velma trembled under her. Roxie felt an answering quiver at her center. And then Roxie slipped her tongue inside. Stroking steadily. Velma moaned throatily above her. “Jesus, you’re good at this,” she groaned, spreading herself into a near perfect straddle. “Jesus you’re…”
Roxie pushed her tongue deeper, her hands moving to slide over the tops of Velma’s thighs. She answered Velma’s statement with a moan, the sound vibrating over Velma’s skin, drawing forth longer, deeper exclamations. Velma’s knees began to jerk spasmodically. Her movements became more erratic, more violent. She opened her mouth in a groan that grew louder and rougher and…and…
Velma’s legs stilled abruptly. Her groan broke off unceremoniously. Roxie’s own gasping breaths seemed loud in the sudden quiet. She was debating whether or not to withdraw her tongue just yet when Velma reached forward, placed a palm to Roxie’s forehead, and shoved her away.
Roxie toppled back gracelessly. Velma sat up on the bed to look down at her. She was sitting on the floor, legs splayed out awkwardly, supporting herself on her hands, elbows locked. Velma watched as Roxie licked her lips, then lifted one hand and drew the back of her wrist across her mouth to clean away the remaining moisture.
*Like a little kid wiping off applesauce,” Velma thought. *Adorable.* Velma almost said it out loud. She bit her tongue to prevent the word’s escape. Her lips trembled for a moment, then flattened back into quiet contempt.
Velma grabbed her panties in one hand, her shoes in another, and began to make her way towards the room’s exit. Roxie grabbed her by the ankle. “Hey, what about me?”
Velma smirked and pulled her foot loose. She reached the door, pushed it open, and then pulled it shut behind her. She threw two words over her shoulder as she departed.
“Rain check.”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Velma always had liked being in control. After the last time, she wanted to let Roxie stew. Make her wait for it. Make her want it so badly she’d do anything Velma asked her to.
Well, Roxie didn’t exactly play along.
After the seventh show, she followed Velma into her room, hauled her over to the bed, clenched fingers in her hair, and yanked down, spreading her limbs invitingly. “Rain check’s over,” she growled. “And no biting.”
Velma considered fighting her. Then her eyes lighted on the female organ hidden under Roxie’s skirt. Velma reconsidered.
Roxie was so perfectly formed, like complex origami. Velma imagined Roxie unfurling under her tongue, like some exotic flower. Velma began to suspect she had downed too much champagne. She found herself sliding her tongue down, pressing her lips in, drawing out slow moans of liquid pleasure.
She continued her stroking wet stimulation for long minutes, until Roxie’s breathing grew uneven and her breath began to hitch . Then, in one small act of rebellion, she lifted her chin and curled her mouth around Roxie’s nub, scraped her teeth ever so gently over the distended flesh, then closed her grin into sensitive nerve endings in an intimate shock of pain.
Roxie screamed, and came so hard she lost consciousness.
Velma lost six strands of hair.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Everything went on in its usual manner. The bizarre trysts continued.
Three shows later, though, Roxie began losing interest. Something wasn’t right. Roxie began failing to acknowledge Velma’s advances. Even business couldn’t draw her interest.
Velma didn’t like being ignored.
*Lazy bitch,* Velma growled silently to herself. *I should just dump her.*
As it turned out, laziness was the least of Roxie’s problems. The night of the eleventh show, after Roxie finished off the act, she found a bar and drank until she passed out. Velma found her at four in the morning, slapped her awake, and dragged her into a taxi by her hair.
“Let go!” Roxie slurred, stumbling over the curb and toppling into the back seat.
“Roxie, what is your problem?”
“Velma, is that concern I detect?” Roxie grinned, swimmingly.
“We won’t be able to work if you keep going like this. Now tell me what the hell is wrong or I’ll leave you in the ditch and let you drown in your own vomit.”
“Aw, you do care.”
Velma cursed.
“ And lookit you – all white skin and pink cheeks and red lips. Like a valentine. My bitchy little valentine, come to my rescue. Save me, Velma. Save me from the evils of alcohol and jazz.”
Velma screamed at the driver to stop, fully prepared to kick Roxie out and let her sober up in an alley. She shoved open the door next to Roxie when she heard the blonde whimper piteously.
A moment passed.
“I hate you,” Velma hissed, finally. She pulled the door shut again. With Roxie still inside.
The two arrived at their hotel ten minutes later. Velma dragged her blonde companion through the empty lobby and onto the elevator, roughly shaking her awake every twelve seconds or so. The two finally made it to their suite, and Velma found Roxie’s room and laid her on the bed. She’d begun to walk back to her own room when Roxie grabbed her by the wrist.
“This was our anniversary, you know.”
“What, your wedding anniversary?”
“Fred. This was the night we first made love.” Roxie grimaced. “Well, actually, he banged me up against a wall in some dingy men’s bathroom. I…kinda miss him.”
“I can’t believe this shit,” Velma growled. “All this for your loser boyfriend? The one that you killed? I can’t fucking believe this shit.”
She tried to jerk her hand away, but Roxie only held tighter. She pulled at Velma’s wrist until the brunette’s hand was resting high on her thigh, under the seam of her dress. “Make me forget him,” she whispered huskily. “You will, won’t you?”
The request was an insult. It was enough to make Velma flinch. But even as the brunette planned out her scathing refusal, her hand began to slide up under the elastic of Roxie’s underwear.
*I hate you,* she thought, moving her fingertips towards Roxie’s mound. *I hate you, I hate you, I--*
But Roxie was already asleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Roxie awoke with a stabbing pain in her temples, and her breath smelling faintly of vomit. She realized that her fingers were still curled around Velma’s wrist.
A short look around revealed that she was in her room, which was far too bright for comfort. She began to stumble off the bed, but thought better of it when the throbbing in her head increased, and instead moved for a better view of her bed partner.
And then she remembered.
Everything.
She wondered why Velma hadn’t thrown her out on the street.
*I hate you.*
Or punched her for asking her to…
Roxie couldn’t let herself finish the thought.
Velma looked soft in the late morning light that shone though the window. Her hair feathered against the curve of her chin. The bed rumpled from where she’d fallen asleep on top of it. She was still wearing her outfit from the night before – a sleeveless, gauzy ensemble. Roxie put a hand to Velma’s shoulder to wake her, but found herself sliding her palm down the smooth skin instead.
Roxie smiled.
And then she was nudging Velma onto her back and parting her legs, sliding fingers through curling black hairs to blow warm air over quickly moistening surfaces, pushing forward to drag her tongue over along every intimate crease. She heard a soft moan from above and saw Velma’s fingers curl into the sheets out of the corner of her eye.
Roxie licked her lips and drew her head back. She trailed her index along Velma’s mound and felt the brunette shudder. She slipped the finger inside and felt a small gasp. She added a second, slipped out, then in again. She knew the moment Velma came awake, her soft exhale twisting into a surprised shriek. Roxie grinned. She dipped back down to wet her thumb with her tongue, then press the digit against the brunette’s distended clitoris, increasing pressure as she thrust faster with her remaining fingers.
Roxie knew the instant Velma came, neck arched, throaty moans rising from her lips. Velma looked…wild, unrestrained. Vulnerable.
Beautiful.
*Is this what you didn’t want me to see?*
Roxie couldn’t help but wonder.
Velma came down slowly. She found Roxie lying between her legs, propped up on her elbows with her chin in her hand. Watching her. Velma waited expectantly for Roxie to speak. Roxie smirked slightly. She dropped her gaze to trail over Velma’s apex, then brought it back up to meet dark brown eyes. “I was just thinking...”
Roxie dropped her hand from her chin and rocked back into a sitting position. One last glance between Velma’s thighs. One last smug grin.
“You know –- it doesn’t look anything like a flower.”
Velma threw back her head and laughed.
It's as hardcore as I could manage without adding in toys (I don't like toys). Well, technically I could have made it more hardcore without toys. But I wasn't feeling all that inventive. I'm not all that happy with it, but whatever. I suppose it's not that bad for a first try (as I have never attempted to write lesbian love scenes before).
Meh. It's the holidays, and apparently everybody has better things to do than beta my femslash porn.
Title: Flower
Fandom: Chicago (the musical)
Pairing: Roxie/Velma
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The evolution of a relationship.
Everybody went to see the big show. Velma Kelly and Roxie Hart, together at last. Shimmering little dresses and long, long legs. Sex and gin and all that jazz. They dazzled Chicago, that night. The applause was deafening.
Velma didn't wear any underwear during the performance. She never wore underwear the first night she did an act. It was a good luck thing. Half the time a garter wouldn't fit under her costumes anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. At least, Velma didn't think it was.
Now, Velma wasn't exactly what one would call modest. She was used to working in night clubs where privacy was a rare commodity, to say the least. So when Roxie followed her into the dressing room chattering happily about publicity, Velma didn't give a second thought to shucking off her glitter-white excuse for a dress right in front of the blonde. After all, she'd done it a hundred times before with her last dance partner.
But then, her last dance partner had been her sister. And if the abrupt halt in conversation was any indication, Roxie was anything but Velma's sister.
Velma suddenly found herself in a very uncomfortable situation. She was used to being nude, or partially nude. It was part of the job, really. She wasn't used to feeling naked, however. She wasn't used to feeling vulnerable, and that's exactly how Roxie was making her feel. So Velma did what she always did when faced with an awkward situation. She turned crass.
Her lips curved into a smirk. She turned towards Roxie and asked her, “See something you like?” at the same time sliding a thumb down one bruise-brown areola, over a nipple that budded under her touch.
A soft flush of arousal lighted Roxie’s cheekbones. For a moment, she was too shocked to speak. But only for a moment. Once she regained control of her faculties, she managed to disguise her initial reaction with a well practiced sneer. “You're disgusting,” she hissed.
Velma raised an eyebrow, then went back to dressing.
For the second performance, Velma did wear underwear. It was only a first time ritual, after all. It was a small measure of decorum, and not enough to stop Roxie from snapping “Wait till I leave the room, this time,” as the two of them entered the dressing room.
Now, if there was anything Velma hated, it was other people telling her what to do. Especially if those other people were smug blonde bitches who liked to walk around as if they owned the place. Never one to shy away from confrontations, Velma marched up until she was nose to nose with Roxie and, in a low murmur, said, “Afraid you'll see something you like?”
Roxie slapped her. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but Roxie hadn't exactly been thinking clearly. She wasn't good in panic situations, if the incident with Fred Casely was any example. Apparently being faced with Velma Kelly in seduction mode qualified as a panic situation. Velma put her hand to the reddening imprint on her face. She then growled and lunged, smashing her red, snarling mouth to Roxie's and biting painfully into the blonde's soft, full bottom lip.
She was only trying to prove a point, really.
She certainly wasn't expecting Roxie to kiss back.
They didn't talk about the kiss. Not until after the fourth show. Velma found Roxie leaning back against the dressing room door with her eyes closed, mouth was slightly open, panting softly, exhausted. Her skin was flushed and soft looking, painted in a fine sheen of sweat.
The sight of her was hypnotic. Velma found herself slipping off her stilettos to pad stealthily towards the blonde. Soon she was leaning forwards, pressing flush against Roxie's slender figure. Thighs to thighs. Breasts to breasts. Roxie's eyes flew open in surprise as Velma's hand found her flank.
And inched upwards.
Ever so slowly.
Past thin stockings and garters to bare flesh. Higher still to the edge of thin silk panties. Velma slid her fingers over the smooth cloth to press her thumb teasingly over the vertical line parting Roxie's mound. “Tell me to stop,” she said, pressing forward through the thin fabric, finding the outline of Roxie's clit with the tip of a fingernail. “Tell me to stop,” she said, rubbing rough friction against the sensitive flesh until moisture began to dampen the fabric under her hand.
Roxie's breathing turned ragged. Her knees began to tremble. Velma stroked harder against the slip of underwear, faster, until...
*Tell me.*
Roxie came without a word.
The night of the fifth show, Roxie decided it was time to talk. She waited for Velma in the taxi that would carry the two of them back to their hotel. As soon as Velma got in and the door swung shut behind her, Roxie snapped, “What do you want from me?”
Velma raised an eyebrow and said nothing.
Roxie tried again. “What do you want from me, huh? We hate each other. Why do you keep doing this?”
“Because it feels good, Roxie. Why do you think?”
“But...”
“Aw, what do you want me to say? That I've started to like you? I don't do sweet romantic crap. This isn't real, Roxie. It's just a good time.”
“What, so you're just using me?” The tremor in her voice almost sounded like hurt. “Then how come I'm the only one getting off?”
“Oh, I get off, Roxie. I'm just not dumb enough to do it when you're watching. You're such a fucking slut, Roxie. You never stop and think.”
Roxie's fist went flying. Velma caught it before it hit her face. She then shoved Roxie back so that her other arm was trapped between her body and the car door.
“Let me go!” Roxie cried, her tone filled with impotent rage.
Velma pushed her way under Roxie's coat with her free hand, slid her hand up the blonde's skirt, grabbed her panties, and ripped them off, feeling the thin fabric tear roughly against Roxie's inner thighs.
“Let me go!” Roxie said again, her voice hitting a more hysterical not.
Velma jerked Roxie's legs apart with a knee and, in one swift motion, shoved two fingers deep inside the blonde. Roxie was already wet, her juices sliding between Velma's grasping fingers even as her protestations grew louder and more frantic.
“Get off me, Velma,” She shrieked. Her body belied her words, thighs falling farther apart, folds opening invitingly around Velma's relentlessly thrusting fingers.
Velma leaned in, bringing her lips in close to Roxie's ear. Her voice was a seductive drawl. “You're so loose, baby. So wet. God, you want this don't you? So loose, you fucking whore...”
Roxie bit off a curse. Velma added another finger, reaching up, sliding along moist surfaces to find a spot, a slight change in texture deep inside Roxie's quim. She stroked it with the pads of her fingers, small rotating motions . “Get...V-Velma,” Roxie panted, her vision blurring, her muscles rippling around Velma's knuckles.
“V-Velma!”
Roxie screamed the name, drawing out the last syllable till her throat grew raw and her voice faded into silence. Eventually the world came back into focus, and Roxie was stunned by the sight that greeted her. Velma had her eyes squeezed shut, and her breath was wheezing out though clenched teeth. She seemed almost to sway slightly as she knelt between Roxie's legs.
Roxie stared as Velma slowly withdrew her fingers. She watched helplessly as the brunette lifted the slick digits towards her mouth, closer, closer, lips falling open. Then, suddenly, Velma opened her eyes, her fingers still inches away from her mouth. Her hand halted in its motion as she became aware of Roxie's assessing gaze. An unreadable expression crossed her face.
Roxie blinked.
And then Velma was pressing her lips together in a hard pale line and reaching over mechanically to wipe her fingers in the discarded remains of Roxie's underwear. She was swinging her legs down over the seat. She was pushing herself back towards the other side of the car, removing herself as far from Roxie as possible.
She was saying something.
“The taxi's stopped.”
The driver was paid an extra large tip to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Velma and Roxie did the same for free. The two went back to their separate hotel rooms. And did not speak.
Until after the sixth show.
They were given separate dressing rooms that time. Their growing fame provided them with greater and greater amenities. Roxie spitefully insisted on different taxis to take them back to their hotel. It became apparent that she wished to avoid Velma entirely.
Her plans were foiled when she found Velma in her room, lounging on her bed. “They gave us the whole tenth floor suite, you know. You’ve got a room all to yourself.”
“Well, maybe I’d prefer some company.”
Velma toed her shoes off her feet. Her legs were bare of stockings, and it was a simple matter to reach under her skirt and pull her panties down and off. She then scooted to the edge of the bed, leaned back on her elbows, and spread her knees wide. “Now considering all I’ve done for you –“
“Oh yeah, you’re a giver.”
“I think it’s time I got something in return.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to see you come.”
“And you won’t. Did you think this would be a face to face thing? That you’d crawl up on the bed and hump me? No, you’re putting that sweet little mouth of yours to work.”
Roxie took a moment to process that bit of information. She then looked down between Velma’s thighs. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”
“Oh, c’mon. It’s easy. Easier than a guy, anyway.”
“As if you’d know?”
“You said it Roxie. I’m a giver. I give as good as I get.”
Roxie lifted her gaze from Velma’s crotch to meet the woman’s eyes. A warm heat settled deep in her abdomen. “You promise?”
Velma smiled, then threw her head back with a sensuous whine. Suddenly Roxie found herself kneeling between the brunette’s thighs, reaching out with her tongue to play along damp surfaces. Velma was…purple-red, cracked with shadows. She tasted…dark. Strange.
Velma trembled under her. Roxie felt an answering quiver at her center. And then Roxie slipped her tongue inside. Stroking steadily. Velma moaned throatily above her. “Jesus, you’re good at this,” she groaned, spreading herself into a near perfect straddle. “Jesus you’re…”
Roxie pushed her tongue deeper, her hands moving to slide over the tops of Velma’s thighs. She answered Velma’s statement with a moan, the sound vibrating over Velma’s skin, drawing forth longer, deeper exclamations. Velma’s knees began to jerk spasmodically. Her movements became more erratic, more violent. She opened her mouth in a groan that grew louder and rougher and…and…
Velma’s legs stilled abruptly. Her groan broke off unceremoniously. Roxie’s own gasping breaths seemed loud in the sudden quiet. She was debating whether or not to withdraw her tongue just yet when Velma reached forward, placed a palm to Roxie’s forehead, and shoved her away.
Roxie toppled back gracelessly. Velma sat up on the bed to look down at her. She was sitting on the floor, legs splayed out awkwardly, supporting herself on her hands, elbows locked. Velma watched as Roxie licked her lips, then lifted one hand and drew the back of her wrist across her mouth to clean away the remaining moisture.
*Like a little kid wiping off applesauce,” Velma thought. *Adorable.* Velma almost said it out loud. She bit her tongue to prevent the word’s escape. Her lips trembled for a moment, then flattened back into quiet contempt.
Velma grabbed her panties in one hand, her shoes in another, and began to make her way towards the room’s exit. Roxie grabbed her by the ankle. “Hey, what about me?”
Velma smirked and pulled her foot loose. She reached the door, pushed it open, and then pulled it shut behind her. She threw two words over her shoulder as she departed.
“Rain check.”
Velma always had liked being in control. After the last time, she wanted to let Roxie stew. Make her wait for it. Make her want it so badly she’d do anything Velma asked her to.
Well, Roxie didn’t exactly play along.
After the seventh show, she followed Velma into her room, hauled her over to the bed, clenched fingers in her hair, and yanked down, spreading her limbs invitingly. “Rain check’s over,” she growled. “And no biting.”
Velma considered fighting her. Then her eyes lighted on the female organ hidden under Roxie’s skirt. Velma reconsidered.
Roxie was so perfectly formed, like complex origami. Velma imagined Roxie unfurling under her tongue, like some exotic flower. Velma began to suspect she had downed too much champagne. She found herself sliding her tongue down, pressing her lips in, drawing out slow moans of liquid pleasure.
She continued her stroking wet stimulation for long minutes, until Roxie’s breathing grew uneven and her breath began to hitch . Then, in one small act of rebellion, she lifted her chin and curled her mouth around Roxie’s nub, scraped her teeth ever so gently over the distended flesh, then closed her grin into sensitive nerve endings in an intimate shock of pain.
Roxie screamed, and came so hard she lost consciousness.
Velma lost six strands of hair.
Everything went on in its usual manner. The bizarre trysts continued.
Three shows later, though, Roxie began losing interest. Something wasn’t right. Roxie began failing to acknowledge Velma’s advances. Even business couldn’t draw her interest.
Velma didn’t like being ignored.
*Lazy bitch,* Velma growled silently to herself. *I should just dump her.*
As it turned out, laziness was the least of Roxie’s problems. The night of the eleventh show, after Roxie finished off the act, she found a bar and drank until she passed out. Velma found her at four in the morning, slapped her awake, and dragged her into a taxi by her hair.
“Let go!” Roxie slurred, stumbling over the curb and toppling into the back seat.
“Roxie, what is your problem?”
“Velma, is that concern I detect?” Roxie grinned, swimmingly.
“We won’t be able to work if you keep going like this. Now tell me what the hell is wrong or I’ll leave you in the ditch and let you drown in your own vomit.”
“Aw, you do care.”
Velma cursed.
“ And lookit you – all white skin and pink cheeks and red lips. Like a valentine. My bitchy little valentine, come to my rescue. Save me, Velma. Save me from the evils of alcohol and jazz.”
Velma screamed at the driver to stop, fully prepared to kick Roxie out and let her sober up in an alley. She shoved open the door next to Roxie when she heard the blonde whimper piteously.
A moment passed.
“I hate you,” Velma hissed, finally. She pulled the door shut again. With Roxie still inside.
The two arrived at their hotel ten minutes later. Velma dragged her blonde companion through the empty lobby and onto the elevator, roughly shaking her awake every twelve seconds or so. The two finally made it to their suite, and Velma found Roxie’s room and laid her on the bed. She’d begun to walk back to her own room when Roxie grabbed her by the wrist.
“This was our anniversary, you know.”
“What, your wedding anniversary?”
“Fred. This was the night we first made love.” Roxie grimaced. “Well, actually, he banged me up against a wall in some dingy men’s bathroom. I…kinda miss him.”
“I can’t believe this shit,” Velma growled. “All this for your loser boyfriend? The one that you killed? I can’t fucking believe this shit.”
She tried to jerk her hand away, but Roxie only held tighter. She pulled at Velma’s wrist until the brunette’s hand was resting high on her thigh, under the seam of her dress. “Make me forget him,” she whispered huskily. “You will, won’t you?”
The request was an insult. It was enough to make Velma flinch. But even as the brunette planned out her scathing refusal, her hand began to slide up under the elastic of Roxie’s underwear.
*I hate you,* she thought, moving her fingertips towards Roxie’s mound. *I hate you, I hate you, I--*
But Roxie was already asleep.
Roxie awoke with a stabbing pain in her temples, and her breath smelling faintly of vomit. She realized that her fingers were still curled around Velma’s wrist.
A short look around revealed that she was in her room, which was far too bright for comfort. She began to stumble off the bed, but thought better of it when the throbbing in her head increased, and instead moved for a better view of her bed partner.
And then she remembered.
Everything.
She wondered why Velma hadn’t thrown her out on the street.
*I hate you.*
Or punched her for asking her to…
Roxie couldn’t let herself finish the thought.
Velma looked soft in the late morning light that shone though the window. Her hair feathered against the curve of her chin. The bed rumpled from where she’d fallen asleep on top of it. She was still wearing her outfit from the night before – a sleeveless, gauzy ensemble. Roxie put a hand to Velma’s shoulder to wake her, but found herself sliding her palm down the smooth skin instead.
Roxie smiled.
And then she was nudging Velma onto her back and parting her legs, sliding fingers through curling black hairs to blow warm air over quickly moistening surfaces, pushing forward to drag her tongue over along every intimate crease. She heard a soft moan from above and saw Velma’s fingers curl into the sheets out of the corner of her eye.
Roxie licked her lips and drew her head back. She trailed her index along Velma’s mound and felt the brunette shudder. She slipped the finger inside and felt a small gasp. She added a second, slipped out, then in again. She knew the moment Velma came awake, her soft exhale twisting into a surprised shriek. Roxie grinned. She dipped back down to wet her thumb with her tongue, then press the digit against the brunette’s distended clitoris, increasing pressure as she thrust faster with her remaining fingers.
Roxie knew the instant Velma came, neck arched, throaty moans rising from her lips. Velma looked…wild, unrestrained. Vulnerable.
Beautiful.
*Is this what you didn’t want me to see?*
Roxie couldn’t help but wonder.
Velma came down slowly. She found Roxie lying between her legs, propped up on her elbows with her chin in her hand. Watching her. Velma waited expectantly for Roxie to speak. Roxie smirked slightly. She dropped her gaze to trail over Velma’s apex, then brought it back up to meet dark brown eyes. “I was just thinking...”
Roxie dropped her hand from her chin and rocked back into a sitting position. One last glance between Velma’s thighs. One last smug grin.
“You know –- it doesn’t look anything like a flower.”
Velma threw back her head and laughed.
It's as hardcore as I could manage without adding in toys (I don't like toys). Well, technically I could have made it more hardcore without toys. But I wasn't feeling all that inventive. I'm not all that happy with it, but whatever. I suppose it's not that bad for a first try (as I have never attempted to write lesbian love scenes before).
Meh. It's the holidays, and apparently everybody has better things to do than beta my femslash porn.
