Red Sox Nation

      Red Sox Nation

F/F

R

***

I have no idea what made me do it. We were watching baseball, typical Friday night on her couch. A couple of beers, some chips and dip, fall asleep on the couch by the seventh inning stretch and then up and home to bed after we see the final score. But tonight, for once, the Sox were ahead early.

She watches so intently. Until she falls asleep. So I could turn my head and watch her. Something about her profile was bugging me and I couldn’t stop watching. And the more I looked the more detailed it became. First it was the whole profile and then it was the way the waves of her thick red hair blend into the skin of her cheek and then it was the texture of the skin just in front of her ear. And then I leaned over to get a chip from the bowl in her lap and there was a smell. Like some kind of flower but sweet, a flower you’d want to eat. When I looked back at the skin on her neck, right where it meets her shoulder, I wanted to know how it tasted.

Now, I’ve thought this before. It’s like when you’re standing on the edge of a beautiful cliff and you wonder what it would be like to fly. You don’t actually fling yourself off the cliff though. And I probably wouldn’t have but then she opened her eyes and leaned away to grab her beer, which exposed the full length of her neck, hair spilling away to the other side and when she sat back up my mouth was just there.

I licked her. Just the tip of my tongue at first and then the wide flat front of it sliding up from her collarbone to her ear. While I thought about how new and tangy she tasted I closed my teeth on her ear lobe. Just once lightly. She didn’t move until I was sitting back again. Then she breathed out. Her eyes flicked my way but they didn’t stick.

I thought she was going to pretend nothing had happened. Until she tilted her head to the side and reached up to sweep her hair off her neck. I set my beer on the floor and leaned in again. This time I kissed her temple, her cheekbone, the side of her chin, and found my mouth soft and wet with just a little tongue around her earlobe. I tasted her neck again slowly, rolled around to her clavicle, making her head loll back. 

Then, of course, my ever-helpful brain kicked in.  I bolted back to my side of the couch and took a gulp of beer. Through the blazing heat of my blush I could feel two things; her eyes on me and my pussy dripping just a bit.  I looked up for a quick check and she was looking straight at me, well, not my eyes.  Looking down seemed safer. Next thing I looked at was her hand as it landed on my hand. Then she slid it carefully, almost tentatively up my arm to my shoulder and finally around to the back of my neck, holding it firmly and pulling me to her mouth.

I consider it incredibly important to be a good kisser. She is a good kisser. First she just laid her lips firmly but gently against mine. And when she felt something in me give and relax she opened her lips. There was tongue, curious tongue, it found my tongue and asked it to come out for a play date. I couldn’t help myself; I bit her lip, just a little. My hands dove into her tank top, grabbing the straps and holding on for dear life. Her hand on my neck didn’t let up, but the other hand it was stroking my ribs and one thumb was venturing nearer and nearer to my nipple. I finally gasped in enough air to realize that I could take some more action.

When my hands unclenched from her shirt I laid them flat on her chest, over her heart then ran them down until my hands were full of breasts. Not mine. So different. And yet so not, just like mine. When her nipples hardened I felt like I’d been zapped. A surge of power all through me. Well, mostly in my cunt. I was so surprised that I backed off; sat back just a fraction and she looked me in the eye. So sure that I was giving up, coming to my senses, realizing what I’d done and sorry about it.

She’s rarely this wrong.

But I needed her to teach me. I grabbed her by her shirtsleeves, planted my lips on hers, then nipped a lip between mine and rolled her so she was on top of me. I moved my hands up and buried them in her curly hair and kept kissing her until she pulled away from me. She looked at me, the look was sorry, sad, it had ending in it and I felt like I was just beginning.  She pressed up on her amazing biceps and a word tore out of me, “Please.”

Apparently that was all she needed. She pressed my head back onto the couch and ran a hand along the side of my face. Her lips followed her hand and then latched them onto the pulse in my neck while her fingers worked nimbly to crawl up and under my short Red Sox t-shirt. She sighed when she reached my naked breasts. I squealed. She sat up to get a proper look as she pinched my continuously hardening nipples. She used just the right amount of pressure and I bucked up under her, not enough to unseat her but enough to spread her legs further, a gesture that smacked of begging more than I was used to. My arms were flailing and they finally found a hold on her belt loops. Then my hands rolled around to grasp the tops of her thighs. When her tongue lapped the tight peak of my left nipple I began blindly reaching for her pussy through her jeans.  I knew that I was groping for the light switch in the dark but I didn’t know where to go or what to do I just knew I wanted to. 

Finally she stopped me, slid down beside me, wedging herself between the back of the couch and my writhing body. Her breath was hot on my ear when she said, “Like this.” Her strong right hand smoothed down my belly, over the top of my jeans and cupped my crotch in her hot palm. Then unbelievably intelligent fingers searched the denim, took the lay of the land so to speak and found a match of seam to clit. Then gentle but firm and truly relentless she rubbed the two together until I rolled my hips and moaned with my mouth clamped tightly closed, she stuck with me and finally almost before I knew it was happening I came, an embarrassing guttural moan ripping out of me.

My face was hot and I was panting like a dog.  It took me a minute or two to get my breath back and another to assemble the bravery to look at her. That sad look was back on her face; she closed her eyes and laid her head on my shoulder. 

Brain racing, hormones still rushing, mouth a foreign thing, “I, I…uh..oh..”

“It’s ok”, she murmured into my skin.

I began to recover. “No, I mean, I’m not done.”

Her eyes popped open and I kissed her savagely, messily yanked her t-shirt over her head and sloppily ran my tongue down her chest to her nipple. Latching onto it I sucked hard and pulled her to sitting. I switched to the other nipple and bit down gently until she jumped. I was a little proud of myself for that. I started to fumble for her pussy again and just couldn’t face doing this badly. I was always told that if you needed help you should be brave enough to ask for it.

So I did.

“Show me.”

With a slightly trembling hand she guided me down and showed me just where to place two fingers, just how hard to press and finally just how fast to rub. Once I felt that I had a good rhythm I dared to look at her face, her half lidded eyes, her slightly open mouth and I licked that lower lip as her thighs began to shiver and she came silently, hands going limp at her sides.