Robin inched her lips closer to Micky’s pussy. Then… touchdown. It was soft and excruciating and exhilarating all at the same time. Most of all, it was the most erotic sensation Micky had ever experienced. Lying in Robin’s bed like this, spread wide for her, with Robin skating her tongue along her lips. It was also almost unbearable. So much heat and pleasure traveled through Micky’s flesh. It was just too much. Soon, it would all erupt.
Robin danced her tongue around Micky’s clit while—oh goodness—she circled a finger around the entrance of Micky’s pussy. Robin slipped her finger inside, high and deep, while she kept dancing her tongue about.
Then it all came crashing down.
Years of pent-up lust, of denied emotions, of unmet desire exploded out of Micky in a series of high-pitched groans. Her muscles cramped, her toes curled, and her belly tingled with the most exquisite fire.
“Oh fuck,” Micky said when she came to.
Robin wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and climbed up to her. “I guess you really needed that, huh?” She had a silly smirk on her face.
“You have no idea.” Micky was finally able to fully relax, her head sinking into the pillow, as she looked into Robin’s face. Who would have thought that the woman who had spoken to her in such a rude manner would, only a week later, be giving her this sort of pleasure? Life was funny that way.
Micky should be exhausted, what with that obliterating climax just having taken the last of her energy, but she felt as though she could do this all night long. Yes, she had to get up early for work the next day—a blessing and a curse right then—but pouring people coffee wasn’t exactly rocket science.
Robin kissed her on the cheek, then on the nose, and Micky could smell her intimate aroma on Robin’s lips. This night was far from over. They’d already sort of agreed it would be a one-night stand, so Micky had to make the most of it. She was not leaving this bed before she’d had a taste of Robin.
“Don’t feel as though you have to,” Robin said, when Micky wiggled her way from underneath Robin’s toned body.
“Try to stop me,” Micky replied, emboldened by the orgasm she had just experienced, and spurred on by getting another good glimpse of Robin’s hot bod. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to run their hands and lips all over that?
Robin scrunched her lips together and nodded. “I wouldn’t dare.”
Micky looked into her eyes and wondered how she would react the next time Robin came into The Pink Bean and ordered her wet cappuccino. Micky certainly wouldn’t be able to serve it to her with a straight face—she’d probably burst out into a chuckle at hearing the word wet. All jokes aside, and having laid their cards on the table from the very beginning, Micky did like Robin a lot. She liked her easy confidence that bordered on arrogance, but also the tenderness with which she had coaxed that orgasm from her, and the banter they had engaged in before. And this body. Good grief. Not even in her wildest dreams had Micky ever imagined finding herself in bed with a woman like this.
Micky ran a finger around Robin’s belly button, then dragged it up to in between her breasts. Again, while admiring their perfect shape, she wondered if they were entirely natural, but there was no sign of scars, and when pressed against her earlier, they had felt very soft and natural. She traced her finger up the slope of one breast and circled it around Robin’s nipple.
Between her legs, Micky went wet like a river again. Oh, to have the weekend to explore Robin to the fullest. Yes, an entire weekend, two full days, that sounded good. Should she suggest that later? Or would Robin not be up for that? She guessed that would depend on Micky’s upcoming performance.
Speaking of, Micky took Robin’s perfect nipple in her mouth, and as she did, her own arousal grew bigger once again. This was no time for performance anxiety, though Micky guessed it was only normal for her to feel a bit nervous. Should she ask Robin what she liked? Robin hadn’t asked her, but she had experience on her side. Micky couldn’t imagine asking Robin that. She would have to trust her gut—and do what she’d imagined doing many a time.
As hard as it was to tear herself away from kissing Robin’s breasts, from the way her own clit was throbbing, Micky derived it was time to go in search of Robin’s. She kissed her way down Robin’s belly, around her belly-button, migrating to her inner thighs, repeating what Robin had, with great success, done to her.
Once she was settled between Robin’s legs, and looking—really looking—at a woman’s private parts for the very first time in her life, swoop after swoop of desire rushing through her, Micky strangely felt as though she was exactly where she needed to be. This was it. She had arrived.