Women Seeking Women #42 - Scene 3

She came on May 23, 2008. I still remember the way she took her time, like she knew I’d wait. She let the robe slip, inch by inch, until it caught at the crook of her elbow, then slid to the floor. She stood in nothing but that black choker, breathing slow. Her nipples tightened when the air hit them. I wanted to trace them with my tongue, but I stayed where I was. Instead I watched her run her hands down her waist, then lower, fingers parting her slit, slick already, glistening under the light. She didn’t rush. Just rubbed slow circles, hips tilting, thighs trembling when she hit the spot that made her gasp. She pushed two fingers inside, knuckles deep, curled them until the wet sounds filled the room. She bit her lip to keep from moaning too loud. Sweat gathered at her collarbones, slid down between her breasts. Her other hand pinched her nipple, twisted it, hard, then soft. She rocked against her own hand, chasing it, knees buckling just a little. When she came, she went quiet first, like the pleasure stole her voice. Her body shook, fingers still buried inside, clenching around them. The light caught the sheen on her thighs. I leaned back, pulse pounding in my ears. She looked straight at me after. Smiled. Like she’d done it just for me.