Page 6 of Strap In
Ava pulls her close; stops kissing Jean just long enough to pull the dress over her head. Only then does it occur to Jean she’s still in her shapewear – ordinarily she’d have excused herself and reappeared in lingerie, preserving at least some vestige of feminine mystique. But there had been no room for any thought in her head except getting closer to Ava.
And Ava doesn’t seem to mind her Spanx. Body curled around Jean’s, she plucks and circles each nipple. Toying with them until Jean whimpers. An exquisite pleasure so sharp it’s right on the border of pain. Jean can’t help arching towards Ava’s mouth in offering. And Ava eases her down against the mattress, curls spilling silky soft over Jean’s arm as she lowers her head.
Ava’s lips close around her nipple, licking and suckling, relentless, until Jean’s frantic with pleasure. Then, looking up at Jean with darkened eyes, she switches to the other side. Starts the sweet torture all over again. Jean strokes her hair, filled with affection for her surprise seductress. Ava hasn’t once reached between her legs, and already Jean’s knickers are plastered to the contours of her sex.
Even after Ava pulls away, the wet lace of her bra continues to tease each bud. Her fingers hook around the hem of Jean’s Spanx, pulling them down over her belly and kissing a trail across the newly exposed skin. Jean can’t remember the last time anyone touched her like this, worshipping every inch of her with hands and lips and tongue. She lifts her hips, obedient; lets Ava pull the sodden scrap of her underwear away too.
At this point the bra does little to preserve her modesty – and anyway, Jean’s too turned on to care. She unfastens the clasp and tosses it onto the floor. Then she’s naked.
For the longest moment Ava simply looks at her, pale and luminescent in the soft glow of fairy lights. Jean’s on the cusp of covering herself when at last she speaks, voice low and husky. ‘You’re stunning.’
Jean laughs, surprised – and a little uncertain – as Ava settles down beside her. Surely, she has brought home younger, skinnier, more beautiful women. But Ava speaks the words with the intensity of truth. And Jean doesn’t know what to make of that at all. She’s trembling like a virgin. And in a way, this is a first time.
Ava pulls back, tucking a strand of hair behind Jean’s ear. ‘You alright?’
Jean can only nod.
‘We can stop. I don’t want to take anything you’re not comfortable giving.’
At this Jean blinks. How many men, over the years, have given her the opportunity to turn back after they’d crossed the threshold of a bedroom door? When she was lying naked in bed? None that she can think of. Not even Henry. And for once the strangeness of this new experience is what makes it reassuring. She leans up, pressing a kiss to Ava’s swollen lips. ‘I want… things I don’t know how to ask for. I want you to fuck me.’
Ava’s throat bobs. ‘Yes ma’am. You mean with my hands, or… with a toy?’
‘A toy.’ Ava’s silent for so long Jean worries she’s made a blunder. ‘Sorry, is that an urban legend?’
‘Not all lesbians have strap-ons.’ She presses a kiss to the curve of Jean’s shoulder. ‘But you’re in luck, because I do. Give me a sec.’
Ava rolls off the mattress and shimmies out of her cargo pants and cheekies. Yanks the blouse over her head so she’s standing there in a sports bra. In the half-light and shadow, it’s hard to make out specifics. She’s slender with smooth skin and toned ample thighs that Jean wants to reach out and touch. But – before she can find the courage – Ava crouches, pulling a crate from beneath the bed. She digs about for a moment and retrieves the strap-on.
It’s more complicated than Jean had expected. And she watches, mesmerised, as Ava steps into the harness. Fastens the buckles with nimble fingers. It’s obvious she’s done this before. Then the dildo’s in place, purple silicone that carries the promise of pleasure, curving upwards at a jaunty angle. A pulse gallops between Jean’s legs. And the dildo bobs as Ava crawls towards her.
But she doesn’t climb on top of Jean – not right away. Ava might be young, but she has finesse. She pulls Jean close, their kisses hot and urgent. The silicone presses insistently against Jean’s belly, a firm reminder of what’s still to come. Ava strokes her hair, her arms, her breasts, her belly, her thighs, until every part of Jean is alight. Only then does her hand slip between Jean’s thighs.
Jean parts to Ava’s touch, crying out at that perfect glide. Pleasure sweet and golden as honey builds inside her. Fingertips skate across her clit, knuckles nudge at her entrance… but Ava never lets her reach the crest. She slides her fingers free and licks them clean, eyes fluttering closed as she tastes Jean’s desire.
‘Give me… Please,’ Jean says, incoherent with longing. ‘I need… Ava…’
‘Shhh.’ Ava kisses her forehead, shifting to straddle Jean. So warm and smooth on top of her. ‘I’ll give you exactly what you need.’
Ava doesn’t waste any time delivering on her promise. She braces both arms on either side of Jean’s head. And when they kiss Jean tastes herself on Ava’s lips, an unfamiliar tang. She opens her thighs, a clear invitation, and Ava slides between her legs. Fills Jean completely.
Her fingers curl against the blades of Ava’s shoulders, pulling her closer. Ava’s breath hitches. She rocks her hips. And pleasure licks at Jean, slow and relentless. She buries her face in the crook of Ava’s neck, tasting the salt of sweat. Breathing in cedar and jasmine – that delicious genderfuck of a scent – and something unnameable that’s all Ava.
With every thrust Ava shudders. Jean can’t tell where her trembling stops and Ava’s begins. And the strap-on must be working for her too, though Jean doesn’t understand the mechanics of it. And as she tips towards orgasm, she isn’t capable of puzzling it out.
Of their own volition her legs lock around Ava’s hips, pulling her deeper and deeper inside. And Ava picks up the pace. Jean can’t stop herself from crying out. Each stroke hits some tender spot deep inside, again and again, the ecstasy of it floods every nerve. She’s breaking apart, only Ava’s arms holding all the pieces of her together.
Ava’s cheeks are flushed red with the effort. Then she too is tipping over the edge, eyes rolling back in her head as she slumps. Even at the crest of her climax she’s a considerate lover, careful not to crush Jean. Smoothing the hair back from her face.
‘You okay?’
Jean nods, breathless. ‘That was…’
Ava’s smile is tired, and more than a little smug. Her back is slick beneath Jean’s palms. ‘Good, right?’
‘Very.’ She can’t very well deny it; her limbs still slack with orgasm. And she doesn’t want to. Ava’s earned a little preening.
She pulls out, slow and careful, rolling onto her back. Unfastens the buckles, clumsy now.
