Lou spun Camille around so that it was Lou’s back to the wall now, then still carrying her, walked her, clumsily, toward the windows at the far end of the apartment. Camille half-laughed, half-moaned, the sound muffled by Lou’s palm over her mouth.
“Shh,” Lou whispered, right into her ear. “You want the whole building to hear you?”
Camille bit the inside of Lou’s hand and tasted sweat and shower gel. “Don’t care,” she managed, voice rough.
Lou released her, grinning like she’d won some secret contest. She slid open the glass doors, and the evening air flooded over them—fresh, sharp, a slap of cold against Camille’s overheated body. The balcony was high-walled, ringed in privacy glass, nothing but sky and the city lights beyond.
Lou didn’t wait. She walked Camille backwards again, until Camille felt the glass cold against her ass, the air biting at her bare chest. Lou pressed up, hands braced on either side of Camille’s hips, pinning her in place. The city glowed beneath them—orange, gold, violet—and Lou’s eyes seemed to reflect every color at once.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Lou breathed, voice soft and rough at the same time. She nipped at Camille’s collarbone, then sucked, leaving a mark that Camille knew would bloom purple by morning.
Camille’s body was on fire, every inch of her, and yet she wanted more. She wanted Lou’s mouth everywhere, Lou’s hands, Lou’s everything. She wrapped her arms around Lou’s shoulders, holding her close, feeling the hard press of Lou’s right thigh between her legs against her clitoris and she felt almost desperate with desire.
Lou looked up, eyes wild. “Tell me if you want to stop,” she said, but her fingers were already sliding between Camille’s thighs finding her wetness.
Camille could barely speak, barely think, but she managed: “Don’t stop. Please. Don’t.”
Lou obliged, her mouth moving slowly down Camille’s breasts, hungry and unrelenting, sucking her nipple deeply, as her fingers slid almost casually through Camille’s soaking pussy. For a moment, Camille thought she might simply burn up—dissolve into the night, nothing left but nerve endings and the memory of this, this impossible craving, finally answered.
For a moment, the world contracted to just the space between Lou’s fingers and Camille’s wet, aching need. Lou’s touch was like nothing Camille had ever felt—deliberate, sure, like Lou was playing an instrument she’d already mastered but wanted to rediscover note by trembling note. Camille’s back pressed harder into the cool glass of the balcony wall, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the rail behind her.
Lou’s breath ghosted against her nipple once more, then lower, tracing a path with her tongue that left goosebumps in its wake. There was a sudden, greedy desperation in theway Lou knelt, sinking to the cold, rough balcony floor without a second thought. She looked up at Camille, her green eyes so dark with desire.
“I have to taste you,” Lou said, her voice frayed and beautiful, and Camille felt her wetness pooling again as Camille’s mouth found her pussy.
Camille’s knees almost buckled as she leant back on the railing further and parted her legs for Lou. Lou’s tongue was insatiable—slick and soft at first, then growing rougher as Lou lapped at her, sucking her clit into her mouth and holding it hostage. There was no slow ramp-up, no teasing. Lou was everywhere at once, hands spanning Camille’s hips to keep her still while her tongue worked in devastating, practiced circles and long hungry lines.
Camille had never been so undone. She gasped, one hand flying to Lou’s hair and tangling there, pulling Lou in tighter. The other hand braced her against the balcony rail, anchoring her to the world. She could hear herself panting, could hear the wet, obscene sounds of Lou’s mouth on her pussy, could hear the traffic four stories below and the faraway laughter from some rooftop party. She didn’t care. She would have let the whole city see if it meant Lou would keep doing this, never stop, never ease up.
Lou’s hands slid lower, under Camille’s ass, tilting her hips up and forward. Camille felt herself open under the pressure, felt Lou’s tongue press harder, exploring every ridge and seam. When Lou slid two fingers inside her—fast, unexpected, knuckles ramming against Camille’s slick, desperate walls—Camille nearly screamed, the feeling was so intense, so encompassing, she wanted more. She bit her lip hard, and began to ride Lou’s hand shamelessly, grinding down onto her fingers while Lou’s mouth on her swollen clitoris refused to let up for even a second.
Camille felt the pads of Lou’s fingers tight against her G spot and she felt her body gush hot sticky fluid in response.
“Oh… fuck..” she gasped. Camille’s legs gave out for real this time, but Lou was ready for her, keeping her upright with a steady, strong grip of her left hand on her hip as her right hand continued to fuck her.
The orgasm came on sudden, brutal, and overwhelming. She seized around Lou’s fingers, body locking up as the first wave crashed through her, and she felt Lou’s fingers still deep inside her. Camille was vaguely aware she was moaning—loud, unrestrained, begging and cursing and pleading for more even as her body lost all control.
“You want more?” Lou’s voice penetrated her bubble just about. Camille felt herself nodding wordlessly and Lou’s fingers responding as they began to thrust again.
“Fuck… oh….. mmm” Camille vaguely heard word falling from her lips but mostly all she could do was feel the intensity of Lou’s fingers. She felt herself squirting again… not something she ever remembered happening before, but the hot wetness of it flooded down her inner thighs and as Lou’s fingers continued it happened again, then again, then again.
Camille lost all control of her body to orgasm after orgasm.
When Camille finally came down, the world had gone white around the edges. Her vision shimmered. She slumped back against the rail, like a rag doll, every muscle quivering. Lou didn’t move right away. She nuzzled her face into the space between Camille’s thigh and pelvis, breathing her in, then slid her tongue up for one final, slow pass, like she was savoring the last drop of something forbidden.
Lou looked up at her, face wet, lips swollen and shining.She smiled, smug and soft, and rested her chin on Camille’s thigh.
“Jesus Christ,” Camille breathed, and Lou just smiled lazily, not saying a word.
For a minute, they stayed like that—Camille shaking, Lou kneeling and basking in the aftermath. The city beyond their balcony was a hundred thousand lights, but up here, Camille was sure she’d never be more visible, more seen.
Lou finally stood, slowly, hands sliding up Camille’s trembling legs as she rose. She licked her lips, eyes locked on Camille’s, and cupped Camille’s face with both hands.
“Is that what you wanted?” Lou whispered.
Camille shook her head, dazed and desperate for more. “More than I ever wanted anything.”
Lou kissed her, soft this time, sharing the taste of herself between their mouths. Camille moaned into it, her body already thrumming with the promise of what came next.
