For A


Slowly Malcolm unzipped her dress, tracing his fingers down her spine in a way that made her shiver. He cupped her chin in his hand and raised her face to meet his, pressing his lips on hers roughly, bruising them, thrusting his tongue between her lips. He began to move his hips against hers. He...he...

"Honey, whatís another word for Ďthrustí?"

My lover enters the study behind me, still wet from her shower, a soft navy towel wrapped around her, using another one to rub her damp mop of dark hair. "What did you say?&qupt; she asks.

"I need another word for Ďthrustí."

"Youíre not still writing that are you? I thought the deadline was tomorrow."

"You know me, canít work unless Iím under unbearable pressure".

"Oh Carol," she leans over the back of my chair to squint at the computer.
"Oh sweety, heís only just got round to unzipping her dress. Youíve got at least four chapters to go."

"Well Iíve got the coffee on. Think Iím going to pull an all-nighter."

Matty comes round my desk and perches on the edge in front of me, obscuring my view of the screen. She pouts at me. "Again?"

I look up at her and think how unbearably cute she looks, all flushed from the hot shower, her dark eyes bright. Matty, short for Matilda: weíve been together two years now and theyíve been the best of my life. Plus sheís the only lover Iíve ever had who hasnít had a problem with my peculiar job. I mean do you know any other lesbians who make their living writing het romance novels?

She looks at me from under heavy lids. "I thought we could spend some time together tonight. Just the two of us. " She adds meaningfully.

I shrug apologetically. Itís my fault for leaving this so late. I know I should have got on with it earlier but I just canít seem to have any ideas.

Matty runs her slender foot up the inside of my leg. "Come on, " she says, "just give me a bit of time. "

I groan. "I canít honey. Iíve got to get this done by tomorrow and Iím having real trouble getting any inspiration. "

She smiles wickedly. "Maybe I could inspire you. " Her foot is now at the top of my thigh and I can feel the pressure through my jeans. I feel my clit begin to throb a familiar response and groan again.
"Mm, " she says. "Yes I think that could be just what you need. " She leans down so that her face is close to mine, I can taste the minty toothpaste on her breath. She increases the force of her foot against my crotch as she flickers her tongue over my lower lip.

Her towel slips slightly, revealing the full curve of her breasts. Her dusky nipples stand up hard against her pale skin, still glistening with drops of water. I lower my head to take one of them in my mouth, but she pulls back. "Oh no, " she says, her eyes glinting. "I donít think the heroine in your book would be that forward. "

I frown at her, frustrated.

"No. " she confirms, sitting upright and readjusting the towel. "I think sheíd just have to wait and take whatever was coming to her. Donít you agree? "
I nod, confused. "I guess so. "

She continues. "So I think you should go over to the couch, take your clothes off and wait patiently like a good girl. "

I flush. Is she serious?

"Go on, " she nudges me again with her foot.

Cautiously I get out of my chair and walk over to the warn sofa in the corner of the room. I turn and face her.
"Shirt first, " she says. "Do it slowly. "

My fingers fumble the buttons. Iíve never seen her like this before and Iím not sure whatís coming next. Iím usually the dominant one. I shrug off the shirt and glance at her nervously. Sheís still propped against the desk but I canít make out her face because itís in shadows, the only illumination the lamp behind her.
"And your bra. " She says.

I put my hands behind my back and unhook the fastening. The bra falls to the ground and I feel exposed. Crazy because sheís seen me like this a thousand times before.

She makes me take off my socks and jeans. Iím standing there in my boxer shorts and she gestures for me to remove them too. I blush and clumsily push them down to my ankles, stepping out of them. When I stand up I keep my arms in front of myself, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, but also incredibly turned on.

She tuts. "Oh no, that wonít do. I want to see you. Put your arms by your sides. "
I oblige grudgingly. She appraises me for a long moment. Feeling her eyes on me makes my clit hard. Iím aching for her touch.

Her voice is husky when she says "turn around, kneel down and bend over the couch. "

The breath catches in my throat. I donít know if I can do this. Iím torn between crippling shame and intense arousal.
"Do it, " she demands, and I do.

I kneel there for the longest time. The room is silent. I donít know whether sheís still watching me from the desk. I feel heat rising in my face. What is she going to do?

Suddenly thereís a hand in my hair and my head is pulled back. I had no idea sheíd been standing over me. I moan and arch my back, and then sheís kneeling behind me, her other hand parting my legs.

She finds my cunt with her fingers and Iím already dripping wet. She chuckles, and teases me, stroking all around my lips but still not giving me what I want, what I need.
"What do you say? " she murmurs.
I push against her. "Please, " I beg.

She lets her fingers brush up against my clit and flicker back down again. "Please, " I say again, my voice cracking.

Suddenly, she delves her fingers deep inside me. I gasp as she pumps them into me again and again, four fingers fill me over and over as her thumb massages my clit. I bury my face into the sofa to muffle my cries as she quickens her pace. My body shudders beneath her and I feel my orgasm building to a point that is almost unbearable. I raise my head and scream, feeling my muscles contracting around her hand inside me. I build to one peak and then another, desperately clinging to the overwhelming sensation that rushes through me. Finally, I sink down against the couch, exhausted, my throat raw, my breaths ragged.

She holds me gently, stoking my hair and cheek until I come back. I turn to face her and she is smiling in smug satisfaction. I grin sheepishly.

"Inspired yet? " she asks.

"Oh yeah."

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