PLAYLIST: ENJOY THE SILENCE – ANBERLIN
Amelie
Arousal burns through me as I watch El push back Jane’s head. And Jane—she lets her.
She is into it. She’s feeling it; I can see her flushed cheeks. The faint smirk on her face.
I am amazed and confused at the same time because I didn’t realize I needed this until it happened.
I lean in and kiss Jane’s throat, moving my body close against hers. I trail down to her collarbone, to that sweet spot she has, just where the neck becomes the shoulder. I kiss and nibble, my one hand massaging her breast. I do so for one moment, and then, I let her be. I stop kissing her, lean back, and we just dance.
I take her hand, pull her towards me, out of El’s touch, and spin her into mine. She lets her head fall to the side, and I caress her neck with my lips from behind.
“You tell me when any of this is too much, you understand?” I whisper in her ear, standing behind her.
She nods.
“Say it,” I demand
“I will tell you if anything is too much.”
“Good girl,” I say, and remove my hands from around her, only to let them trail over her beautiful curves.
El takes a big gulp directly from the third bottle of champagne; she’s watching us.
Our eyes meet for just one moment. A devilish smile appears on her face.
She dances over to us, the bottle in one hand, the other in the air, and then caresses her own body. Oh, how she can move her hips. She knows how to party. I knew that much from the first night we spent together. But this here hits different. This hits very close to home.
El doesn’t break the gaze into my eyes, as she grasps Jane’s face with one hand. I get one last look before El’s lips land on Jane’s. Not for a normal kiss. But a feral tongue kiss.
She shoots me one glance up, and arousal burns through my core. It steals my breath.
She comes up, loosens the touch, and takes a few steps back, where she just dances with herself and the champagne bottle.
Jane glances up at me over her shoulder. She is completely bewildered.
“Was it good?” I ask.
She nods, scared of her own desires.
I snigger and bring my mouth up to her ear.
“I wanna fuck with you,” I say. “And if you don’t stop me, I’ll do this?—“
My hands fumble open the first button of her dress.
The next.
The next.
And the next.
She doesn’t stop me.
My one hand slides into her neckline, into her bra, and I massage her breast, while my other goes further down the shortskirt of her dress, trails over her inner thigh, and then grasps her pussy.
She gasps.
