“Fuck,” Charlotte draws out the vowel, losing all composure as her body takes over. It’s like she has no say in this at all. Her body takes what it wants—what it apparently has been wanting for a long, long time.
Of course Riley notices and she lowers her leg. At Charlotte’s needy whine, she cups her cheek in her hand and whispers: “That’s it for today’s lesson.”
“Ri…” Charlotte sighs and pouts, pulling her in by the waist.
Instead of giving into the invitation, Riley starts peppering kisses all over her face. “You still haven’t told me you’re ready,” she whispers against her skin. “And I doubt you are. I only want you when every part of you is ready, Charlie.”
Charlotte growls something unintelligible, and Riley chuckles as she brushes her thumb over her bottom lip. Charlotte tries to bite it, but she quickly pulls away.
“We’re not going to do something you might regret later because your body has hit second puberty before your mind has caught up,” she explains sweetly.
“Second puberty?” Charlotte frowns in suspicion. “What a load of bullshit. I’m well past my peak of fertility, as everybody and their dog likes to remind me.”
Stroking her cheek with a knuckle, Riley says: “What do you think will happen to your hormones when it realizes there’s a whole new world to explore? New bodies, new dynamics, new actions, needs, preferences… It’s all been locked away for decades, and suddenly everything becomes accessible. And as opposed to teenage puberty it happens all at once. Your libido is about to go through the roof.”
Charlotte huffs. “You think pretty highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“Yeah I do, but that’s not the point.” Riley grins and leans in to hover in front of her face. “I think pretty highly ofyou. I have faith your body will try to give you everything you’ve been missing. Even if it’s messy, and unbalanced, and delicious. But hey, I will be here if you need to blow off some steam, and I will try not to complain about it.”
Charlotte weakly punches her in the stomach. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
Back at the hotel, Charlotte is forced to keep checking in with herself. She now realizes that what Riley had said about second puberty might’ve been true for a couple of days already. There are very few moments during the day when her mind doesn’t drift to sex, kissing, or any other form of physical contact. She tries to escape it by going for a swim, diving into her book, or hitting the hotel gym on the ground floor; but nothing stops the lustful fire that lies in wait in her stomach.
She avoids going to her room during the day because she doesn’t want to be persuaded to touch herself again. She avoids Riley too—not that it helps, because the second they run into each other anyway, Charlotte gets relentlessly distracted by one of their heated memories.
She knows it’s going to happen at some point, and she truly respects Riley for being so careful with her, but the anticipation is getting so bad that Charlotte keeps setting the bar higher and higher for herself. She’s imagined it multiple times: how she wants to tell Riley she’s ready, how she wants to show her that she can take initiative, how she will kiss her and throw her on the bed.
In other scenarios Riley is doing the throwing, but her imagination stops when Riley takes off her clothes, just because she has no idea how to picture her naked. She has seen and studied the visible parts of her body at every opportunity she’d gotten, so she knows what almost every little piece of skin looks like, except for the areas that have always been covered by clothes—or hands, asRiley had been topless at the strip club but Charlotte had only seen her with her nipples covered.
While weeks, or even days ago, Charlotte would’ve just wondered what they would look and feel like, now it’s not just casual curiosity anymore. She needs to know, almost like her body isn’t giving her another option: act on it, or be haunted by imagining that you act on it.
Today she’s having a hard time giving in to the ogling when Riley is sunbathing by the pool—all the way across from where Charlotte is—because at some point she has started to compare herself to the countless straight males who can’t think of anything else but to touch and have sex with a woman. Every comment she wants to make, every attempt at flirtation, or just wanting to let her know that she appreciates the view: it all sounds wrong in her mind when she pictures it being a man who says it. She wants to be better than that. Sheisbetter than that.
Her reservations about desirably staring and boldly flirting get thrown out the window when Riley, upon passing her on the way to the bar, asks her if she can'please stop being so attractive', as she’s disturbing public order in that bikini.
Charlotte realizes that any man would’ve gotten punched in the face after saying something like that. But when Riley does it, she instantly feels herself getting wet and the muscles in her lower stomach contract. Interesting. So if Riley can get away with it, maybeCharlotte can get away with a lot more than she thinks too.
At the same time, these comparisons to men make her very much aware of the fact that her mind has never felt this occupied by lust before when it comes to her heterosexual history. Is it because this is new territory? Or because the idea of being with a woman is really that much more exciting?
The universe definitely doesn’t screw around when it comes to Charlotte, which is why the irony is not lost on her when Riley returns to her lounger, drink in hand, and the bed next to her gets occupied by a handsome man in his forties. She can tell he’s handsome because of his strong jaw, smooth skin, dark stubble and a nice, toned body. And yet, it does nothing to her. How could it, when right next to him is the most sexy, intelligent, and caring woman ever? So confident in her own body, her yellow string bikini barely covering the necessities, her legs sprawled out to catch the Mexican sun—goddamn, one of those legs that was pressed up against her cunt a couple of days ago.
Charlotte sits up in her chair. She takes her sunglasses off and puts her theory to the test. She looks over to the guy once more and… nothing. Not even when her eyes land on the bulge in his swim shorts.
Her eyes flick to Riley. She feels herself getting lightheaded, her heart rate goes up, and the need to touch and squeeze and caress that flawless skin becomes almost unbearable.
Back to the guy: her fire quickly sizzles out, until there’s just some smoldering ashes left.
She scolds herself as she completely blocks him out to take in everything Riley is putting on display. Even from this distance, she can feel the effect of the magnetic pull Riley has on her. The softness of her—how soft would she be under that bikini?—and the way her quirky personality just challenges Charlotte in all the right ways.
The more she thinks about it, the more logical it feels. Of course she’s into her. Of course it makes sense to want her. What starts making less and less sense, is what on earth Charlotte is waiting for. She could have Riley for herself, right now, and allow herself to finally have the experience she’s been missing out on. Finally draw out the memories of mediocre sex—would this actually be better than what she’s used to?—and finally know what it will feel like to make her moan, make her feel good, make her come completely undone.
Just like that, Charlotte can’t think of a single reason to wait anymore. She grabs her phone, pulls up Riley’s message thread, and sends the text. Just two words that might be about to change her life.
'I’m ready.'
She watches from a distance as Riley feels around for her buzzing phone, finds it under a towel and lays back on the lounger, holding it up above her face. She unlocks it and Charlotte snickers as she watches her nearly dropthe phone. She catches it just before it hits her in the chin and shoots up, ramrod straight.
Riley looks around, finds Charlotte’s gaze, and slides her sunglasses up in her hair while her jaw slowly drops. She smoothly raises an eyebrow, almost like she wants confirmation.
