Diamonds and Girls

I meet her stoic stare, considering what she is telling me. "Are you panicking now?" I ask finally.

"Yes."

I want to laugh, because she looks like the statue of a goddess, composed and serene. But I don't.

Instead, I kiss her.

I clasp her hands, rise up onto my toes, close my eyes, and press my lips gently against hers. Her mouth is soft and warm and it twitches beneath my pressure. I release her hands and slide my grip up to her elbows, pulling her in to me. She grasps my elbows, too, and we hold each other, at once clinging to the other and maintaining a distance between us.

Our lips part, but we stay locked like that, so that our breath mingles. I swallow, hard. Dear God, I'm turned on.

I lean back a bit so that my eyes can focus. We probe each other with our stares. Noa surprises me by stepping in close and pressing her body against mine as she claims a second kiss. I wriggle my arms around her shoulders and tug her down onto the bed behind me. We're still egging each other on, but the game has changed. I like this game.

Straddling me, she cups my face and plants firm, closed-mouth kisses all around my lips, sending shivers down through my toes. Her hair falls down around us. I run my hands up the undersides of her smooth thighs, feeling for the swell of her ass.

Her breath catches when I begin to hump up into her, kneading her cheeks. I feel her tongue against my lips, finally, and open quickly for her. Her tongue swirls into my mouth and I arch against her.

We break away both gasping for air. She straightens, balancing on my hips. I think maybe I should say something, but I can only stare up at her, mesmerized.

Wordlessly, she pulls her dress over her head. Her bra and panties match, skin-toned lace lying neatly flush against her curves. Her flat stomach clenches with each ragged breath as she reaches behind her back to lose the bra.

I admire her high, fleshy breasts. The areolas are almost the same color as her skin, but her erect nipples are flushed a deep rose. Those nipples grow even harder when I reach up to massage them between my thumbs and first fingers, and a low whine escapes Noa's throat.

She rolls off of me towards the center of the bed and tugs off her strappy gold heels. Then she kneels and faces me, clad only in a skin colored thong and all those curls.

"You, too," she says softly.

I strip quickly. The shorts are so tight that I have to struggle a bit, and my cheeks heat. I smooth the silky straight layers of my styled hair self-consciously and crawl closer until we're facing each other on our knees.

We kiss again, our breasts squashed together, her roaming fingers somewhat more tentative than my own. I coax her down, drag off the lacy thong, and stretch out beside her.

"Is this what you want?" I ask, massaging the slope of her naked hip.

Her head jerks. "Yes. Oh, yes." She takes a deep, shuddering breath. "But, I'm scared, Fi."

You wouldn't think it, watching her. But I'm close enough to feel her racing pulse and the tension in her limbs.

"It's okay," I murmur, stroking her arms, her hair, her shoulders. "It's just me. It's Fiona." Again and again. "Just Fiona." I don't know why I think this might comfort her, but somehow, it seems to, and, gradually, she relaxes.

Enough to start analyzing, but I'll take analysis over panic any day.

"Have you done this before?" she guesses. "Been a girl's first girl?"

I'd known, of course, but it's still a strumming thrill to have her say it. "Yes," I say softly. I'm not sure if she's asking for reassurances that she's different from, or the same as the others.

"And?" Her gaze washes into mine, deep and colorless like the ocean under heavy clouds, and I know she wants to hear she's different.

And she is different. Much different. She is Noa. I search for the words to explain what is different, beyond that she's easily the most beautiful creature, male or female, to have graced my sheets. I stare into her wide-eyed, anxious face, and feel the belligerent pride roiling barely concealed beneath the surface of that trusting visage. An idea pops into my head. "You remind me more of the boys."

Whatever she expected to hear, it wasn't that. I rush to explain.

"Not you. Just...this. It reminds me of when I first convince a guy to try pegging. The sudden role reversal, the unexpected vulnerability. That fight against an unfamiliar desire to submit, to trust—it's always a bit surreal."

She frowns. "Don't you fucking call me submissive, imp."

I giggle. "That's just what the boys say."

She tries to hold the glare, but it grudgingly gives way to curiosity. "You've really, you know, done that, to a guy?"

I nod solemnly and she gives me this impressed, conspiratorial grin, and I grin back smugly, and suddenly it's like we're back in middle school, giggling about boys, except that we never had that sort of comradely bond, and now that we do, somehow, inexplicably, it's blowing my fucking mind.

"Why didn't we ever do this before?"

Noa raises a wry brow. "Sex? Or talk without trying to rip out the other's metaphorical throat?"

"Both. Either." I shrug. "I meant sex, but I'm guessing they're related."

"We hate each other," she supplies with a shrug, tracing the line of my collar bone with one finger.

"Imagine," I persist, "if we'd had sex back in high school, and been friends all this time."

Noa's jaw hangs open and she looks at me in dismay. "Friends, Fi? It's not going to be that easy. We really do hate each other." She takes the sting out of her words by trailing her finger up my throat and chin to tenderly caress my lips. "It's more than hate. It always has been, and how much more, we're only learning now. But we're still going to annoy the shit out of each other tomorrow morning."

She's right, damn her, and I'm proving her point by resenting how she is always fucking right. "I hate that you're always right," I inform her crossly. "Now can I kiss you before your general perfection totally fucking ruins the mood?"

Noa pinches my nose. "You're lucky you're cute when you're mad, sprite."

I stick out my tongue, which conveniently puts my mouth in the correct shape for kissing. She tastes of sugar and bourbon.

It's hot, as our bodies take over once again, but the agonizing tension from before is gone. I roll on top and melt into her. It's a relief, to agree we still hate each other. Noa becomes bolder, fondling my bare ass and wrapping her hand in my hair as I kiss a line down her throat, past her collar bone, and between her breasts.

She makes a coughing sound when my mouth closes over a nipple. She'll never be a screamer. Her self control is too iron, too much of who she is. But that flawless poise is a part of what I've always envied and admired, and each hitched gasp and half swallowed moan I'm able to provoke excites me far more than any porn worthy over- responsive wailing.

I trail my tongue lower, dipping it into her belly button, enjoying the way she squirms with her hips and presses down on my head. She knows where she wants my mouth.

I don't give in, yet. I brush light kisses down her hip and keep going, playfully wetting the inside of one knee. She kicks out, ticklish.

"Dammit, Fiona, don't you fucking tease me." Her voice is deep with need, and she's tugging on my hair now, trying to pull me back up.

I latch my mouth onto the inside of a white thigh and suck hard. Noa hisses but I don't let go. I catch her scent – sweet, musky, intoxicating – and keep sipping in that small patch of skin until I'm sure I've left a mark. The resulting fleck is a gorgeous dark red.

When I look up, Noa is rubbing herself. I smack her hand away. She glares down at me, flushed and bright eyed, tousled curls spilling over her breasts. Her wild beauty glows, savage and pure and alive. I can't resist any longer.

I eat her slowly, a hand pressing down on each thigh, forcing her bare lips farther apart. She moans softly. Her fingers massage my scalp, twisting my hair as I work her throbbing nub.

My tongue paints deep, languorous circles. Her muscles tighten with every clockwise upstroke, so after a while I hone in on that one spot, using my tongue to spread around her slippery fluids and then digging repeatedly against the left side of her swollen clit hood.

"F-fi," she stutters hoarsely. "On fire."

I slip one hand up to her abdomen and relish the uncontrolled clamping of her hard muscles. She's sweating heavily and hardly breathing, at all.

I know she's close. I could pull away, withhold release, build her higher, tease her.

But I don't want to pull away. Not yet, another second, just one more.

And then she's convulsing, and I know it's too late. I lick her gently through it, while she tautens and quivers and grunts just once.

I crawl back up for a kiss, sorry that I didn't make it last longer. She's panting lightly, and smiling at me so happily that I forget all regrets.

"You're amazing, pixie," she murmurs.

I let myself smile. "I cook, too."

"The webcam video will go viral."

"That had better be a joke."

Noa swats my bottom and sits up. She gives me a long, speculative look – a look I recognize all too well – and I'm abruptly nervous. She's the sleek predator once again. I tell myself I can see tenderness in the depths of those charcoal eyes, but the thought does nothing to calm my nerves.

"You liked that."

I lick my lips apprehensively, unsure of what to say. Liked it? I fucking loved it. But I'll be God damned if I admit that to Noa.

Besides, it wasn't a question.

Noa rakes back her curls with a knowing grin, sexy and carefree. My heart dives, a reverse two-and-one-half somersaults with two-and-one-half twists. I want her so badly it hurts to breathe.

She leers. No hint of her earlier hesitation remains; she is as fearless and voracious as ever. A quick learner. I think I may have created a monster. "If I asked you to lick me again, right now, you would, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck you," I gasp. That's a yes.

Cocking her head at me, she arches her elegant brow. "So sorry, Fi," she says. "Afraid I don't want that."

I stare at her indignantly. "Why not?" I splutter. So much for pride.

She leans in, caressing my waist, and plants a slow kiss on my trembling cheek before murmuring into my ear. "Wanna make you come."

As established, Noa doesn't whine in want, so that needy moaning sound must be me. I'd probably be embarrassed, if I could think a little straighter than Anderson Cooper.

"Tell me what you like."

I just gawk at her, my mind vacant. She's running her hands over my breasts.

She gives me an amused look and tries again. "What do you want, pixie?"

"Y-you," I manage.

The answer pleases her, and I feel a surge of glad pride. Oh, fuck me. I've realized that while I do want her, I want even more to please her. Hadrian's going to flip his shit.

"Fine, then," she announces. "We'll do this my way." She pushes me down and kisses me hard. I kiss her back for dear life, trying to suck as much of her mouth into my own as possible, reaching under her arms, clutching her shoulders from behind, pressing her tightly to me. When she finally pulls away, my lips and tongue feel bruised, numb, and tingly.

"More," I beg.

She gives me a brilliant smile and unwraps long legs to swing from the bed. I try and fail to contain a disappointed whimper. She strolls naked to my desk.

"You know," she says casually, "I've thought more than once about shoving one of these glass paperweights up your infuriating ass."

I don't have the heart to tell her that the glass paperweights are, in fact, butt plugs.

"Would you like that, Fiona?"

I gurgle unintelligibly. That's a yes, again. Good thing Noa speaks my language.

She selects one of the pretty, frosted glass pieces and saunters back over. The flared base is decorated with a large, olive-colored jewel; the stone glistens as Noa twirls the bulbous head between her fingers.

She climbs back on top of me and places the head against my lips. "Lick it, imp," she orders.

I twist my head away, frowning. "Not if that's supposed to be a substitute for lube."

She nods patiently and waits for me to open my mouth. I hesitate for a moment, acutely aware of the weight of her strong, lithe body on top of my own. If I surrender now, she's going to dominate me. I want it, but I'm not sure I can handle it.

Noa was scared, too, I remember. She got over herself. Our lifelong competition pushes me over the edge and I open my mouth wide, defiant, sticking out my tongue as if I'm getting a throat culture. Noa slips in the toy and I close my lips around the shaft, sucking on the hard conical bubble like a pacifier as I breathe loudly through my nose.

"You look beautiful, pixie," Noa whispers. "So delicate." She taps the plug lightly, humming in appreciation. "It matches your eyes. Peridots, like grass, fresher than emeralds. And your hair is fire." She combs back the strands clinging to the sweat on my forehead, imitating on me the same gesture I've seen her perform countless times on herself. Then she giggles. "And you've shut up, for once. How did I never think of this before?"

I slap her thigh and she laughs. Only I make her laugh. "None of that!" she exclaims between titters, and firmly places both my hands above my head. "Hold onto the bed," she commands, and I grip the sleek wooden spindles of my bed frame.

She looks around quickly. There are handcuffs and under-the-bed restraints in my closet, but I wouldn't have mentioned those even if I hadn't been gagged. Noa's a good improviser, though. You wouldn't think it, since she's such an anal perfectionist, but she is.

She ends up claiming my pearls from the jewelry piled messily on top of the night table. She threads the long string around my wrists and through the wooden posts before fastening the clasp, so that the necklace lies loosely against my skin, but not so loosely that I could slip out my hands without ripping it. The pearls are faux, but they were a gift from my grandmother. My fingers tighten their grip and I grit my teeth against the glass plug.

Noa pulls it out. "Lube?"

There's a bottle in that box in my closet, but then she'd see the rest of my collection. No sense in giving her any more ammunition for my mother; I was grounded for most of my fifteenth year after Noa found my condoms and tattled. "Packet in my purse," I offer instead.

The graceful arch of one brow twitches, but she doesn't say anything, just fetches the clutch I'd discarded on my way in. She's fumbling with the small packet as she returns to the bed.

"Can I have a pillow?" I ask.

Noa scowls down at me from where she's kneeling at my feet. "You have a pillow."

I flush. "Under my butt," I clarify. "Better angle."

She considers me, head cocked, grey eyes large. "No," she says finally.

I blink, resentment curling instantly in my chest. What the fuck does she mean, no? "Why not?" I demand.

"Because," she says tranquilly, "I asked you before what you wanted. You had your chance to make requests, and now we're doing what I want."

"You're a fucking control freak," I snap. Twisting in frustration, I'm careful not to move my hands and risk breaking my grandmother's pearls.

"I know." Supremely unconcerned, she tosses the used lube packet onto a corner of the bed and raises the anointed plug before her eyes. The wetness of the lubricant has turned the opaque finish of the frosted glass transparent. "Legs apart."

Her clinical tone is humiliating, but as I obey with a helpless glare, arousal burns in my core anyways. I lie there anxiously, the muscles of my exposed private parts clenching involuntarily under Noa's scrutiny.

Then she leans down, yanks my hips up, and slides brusquely forward, wedging her knees under my back. "I'll be your pillow," she mutters. I gasp as my knees fall down towards my ears and my weight is shifted to my head and shoulders. It's not entirely comfortable, but as Noa bends over to kiss my mouth, the intimate feeling of being wrapped up in her body is worth any soreness.

A whimper of protest escapes when she straightens, crescendoing into a surprised whine as she slaps one hand down against my ass, hard. I jerk on her lap, mewing as she alternates between raining blows and kisses down onto my cheeks.

Just when it's starting to really hurt, she gives my ass a quick, soothing rub and spreads me wide. I brace myself for the plug, but instead of cold glass, I feel a soft, hot tongue flatten itself against the puckered skin of my back entrance.

"Ah!" I shout, arching up into her. Pleasure rolls through me in waves as Noa licks my asshole, her swipes and tickling probes creating sensations I can't name. Shaking, I moan her name as exquisite feeling after exquisite feeling assails me.

Finally – and too soon – her wet tongue is replaced by the cool slickness of the butt plug. I wrench my eyes open at the abrupt switch and watch, whining softly and unbrokenly, as Noa slowly forces the toy into my hole.

There is a moment of burning as the head swells to its widest diameter, stretching my sphincter painfully, but then the plug pops in and my muscles tighten back around the short stem. The jeweled base rests against my opening, its wide rim digging into my butt cheeks. I feel full, stuffed, like I've gorged on ecstasy and could explode at any moment.

Noa taps the gem and I flinch as my clit throbs in response.

"How does that feel?"

I groan. "I-incredible."

She smiles fondly down on me, still flicking at the jewel plugging my ass. "You're a slut, imp."

I moan enthusiastically and her smile widens. She caresses my legs, stroking my thighs, massaging my bent knees, kissing my ankles. Then she pulls them around her waist and I lock my feet behind her back. Slowly, torturously slowly, she kisses her way from my forehead down my neck. Sure hands play with my breasts as she makes her way lower, down my chest and to my stomach, licking and nibbling. She's silent the whole time, but I make enough noise for both of us.

She kisses each hip bone and traces the tufting tail of my fox tattoo with her tongue before straightening. Her eyes burn into mine. "I want to kiss you," she informs me gravely, "while you come."

Oh God. I haul in a deep, quaking breath and tilt my head back to meet her lips. As her tongue slips against mine, a finger slides between my soaking pussy lips and begins to rub me, hard, fast, and deliberate.

I wail into her mouth as my heels dig into the small of her back and my hips thrash beneath her touch. My vaginal muscles seem to expand and tighten simultaneously, and the first fluttering spasms encounter the butt plug and ricochet back as stronger surges of hot, taut pleasure. I buck against her, frantic for release. I suck all the air from her lungs and hold it, stiffening as I tip past the point of no return. As my climax breaks, I feel the plug being pulled from my pulsing ass, and my mind goes completely blank. There is only bliss, and the taste of Noa.

When I next come to my senses, I'm clutching Noa's face between my hands, my mouth still clinging to hers, animal sounds pushing out around our raw, rough kisses. I never felt the necklace snap. As I shift on the bedding, I can feel some pearls roll beneath my shoulders. I don't care.

Gradually, our kisses become less ardent, more affectionate, until Noa places a final peck on my temple and untangles herself. She collapses beside me and looks over, sweaty, exhausted, and more beautiful than I've ever seen her.

"Sorry about the necklace," she says. "I didn't think—"

"Never mind the necklace." I really don't care. "That was unbelievable. We'll do what you want," I avow fervently. "Every time."