And Ellie sat there, and watched Kelly go down on her wife.
She watched the movements of Kelly's head, the way her hands held Becca's hips, the way she explored first, tentatively, searching for what worked, and then found her rhythm and committed to it. She watched Becca's body respond, the subtle shifts and sounds that told Ellie exactly how it was going, everything that Ellie knew so well. The way that Becca's toes curled, the way her stomach muscles tensed, the way her hand tightened in Kelly's hair when Kelly did something that worked particularly well.
It was different from doing it herself.
Fundamentally, viscerally different, in ways she’d not fully appreciated until now. When Ellie went down on Becca she was inside the experience, feeling and tasting and adjusting, too immersed to really observe and rightly so. Now she was outside it, watching the whole picture, Becca's face, Becca's body, the other woman between her legs, and the perspective was revelatory. She could see things she'd never seen before: the exact expression Becca made when pleasure built past a certain point, a kind of focused blankness, her brow slightlyfurrowed, her lips parted, that she never normally saw; the way her breathing went from almost inaudible to gasps and moans that she could hear across the room; the way her whole body was writhing, so much more active than Ellie had thought.
Kelly was good. There was a moment, a specific moment, when she did something with her tongue that made Becca cry out suddenly and grab the sheets with both hands. Ellie didn't know what it was, she couldn't see the specifics from where she was sat, but whatever Kelly had done it was something new, something Ellie hadn't done, and Becca's reaction to it was volcanic.
Part of Ellie thought that that should have hurt.How dare this other woman make my wife feel something like that instead of me?Yet it didn’t, or rather it did, but the hurt was so entangled with the arousal by now that Ellie couldn't separate them, and didn't want to separate them. Kelly was giving Becca something that Ellie hadn't. That was a fact. And the fact of it was exhilarating rather than devastating because Ellie was here, watching it happen, and later she could learn it, bring it into their own bed, make it theirs.
Kelly did the tongue thing, making Becca cry out again, and Ellie found herself smiling, happy that Becca was feeling something amazing. Becca was close. Ellie knew it from the flush of her skin, the sound of her breathing, the way her whole body was coiling tight like a spring. Then Becca's hand shot out sideways, reaching toward the edge of the bed, reaching toward Ellie.
Ellie didn't think. She stood up from the sofa, crossed the room to the bed, and took Becca's hand.
Becca's fingers laced through hers and gripped hard, and Ellie knelt beside the bed holding her wife's hand while Kelly continued between her legs. It was the most intimate she had ever felt with Becca, more intimate than any sex they'd had, because Becca was choosing in this moment to reach for Ellie, to pull her in, to make her part of what was happening even from the sideline. This was them having sex with Kelly, not just Becca. Them.
Kelly kept Becca close, very close, but oh so slowly she let the orgasm crest, reading the pace perfectly, drawing it out, and when it finally arrived Becca's grip on Ellie's hand became crushing, her back arching off the bed, a long, raw moan that broke into something primal. Ellie held on and watched her wife's face as pleasure consumed her. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever witnessed.
Through it all, even at the peak, Becca held on to Ellie's hand. She didn't let go until the last tremor had passed and her body went limp against the sheets, her chest heaving.
Kelly lifted her head and looked up at Becca with a satisfied, slightly awed expression, then noticed Ellie kneeling there, hand clasped in Becca's, and smiled… not awkwardly, not jealously, but warmly, the smile of someone who understood what she was seeing and thought it was beautiful.
Ellie smiled back, let go of Becca's hand, kissed her wife's knuckles once, and went back to the sofa.
Chapter 9
They weren't finished. Not even close.
After a few minutes of lying together, kissing slowly, Becca sat up and looked at Kelly with an expression that Ellie recognised, an expression that did funny things to Ellie whenever she was the recipient… determined intent, dressed up as playfulness. Now Kelly was going to have some fun.
"Your turn," Becca said.
Ellie thought she knew what Becca could do, but she was in for a surprise. It wasn’t just about Becca performing an act of pleasure, it was about seeing Becca give, seeing her instincts and her skill directed at someone else's body, and realising that her wife was an extraordinarily generous and intuitive lover, even more than she’d already thought.
Becca kissed her way down Kelly's body with complete confidence. There was no hesitation, no tentativeness, nolooking to Ellie for permission. Becca's hands and lips moved over Kelly's breasts, her stomach, her hips, with the assurance of someone who knew exactly what a woman's body wanted because she lived in one, loved another, and had spent seven years learning what really, really worked.
When Becca settled between Kelly's legs, Kelly let out a long, loud gasp and Becca went to work with an attentiveness that Ellie found almost unbearably erotic to watch.
Kelly was vocal, of course she was. Much more vocal than Becca or Ellie, which was saying something as neither of them were silent. But Kellie talked (“right there”, “don't stop”, “oh my God, your mouth") and moaned loudly, grabbing at the sheets and at Becca's hair, and at one point she said, "Where the hell did you learn to do that?” with a kind of breathless wonder that added pride to the jealousy-arousal loop in Ellie’s mind.
Ellie sat on the sofa and watched her wife take another woman to insane levels of pleasure, and the arousal she felt was layered in a way that she was only beginning to understand. There was the straightforward eroticism of watching two beautiful women together, of course. There was the voyeuristic thrill of seeing this private act laid out in front of her. There was the jealousy, duller now but still present, still feeding the fire. And underneath all of it, that deep, profound pride: price in Becca, in her generosity, in her courage, in the way she was giving herself to this experience fully and holding nothing back.
Kelly came loudly, body shaking, her hips jerking, and Becca stayed with her until the last wave passed, then crawled back up and kissed her deeply, their tongues playing against each other, and then they lay together catching their breath. Ellie watched them and felt so full of want and love and, she realised witha grin at knowing the word, compersion that she thought she might burst.
***
They went on for another hour.
Ellie would remember it later as images in her mind rather than in a sequence: Kelly on top of Becca, straddling her thigh, grinding against her while they kissed and Becca held her hips, both of them gasping. Becca on top of Kelly, their bodies pressed together, Becca's hand between them, Kelly's legs wrapped around her. The two of them side by side, facing each other, legs intertwined, hands between each other's legs, a slow mutual build that ended with them climaxing within seconds of each other, mouths pressed together, swallowing each other's sounds.
Through it all Ellie watched from the sofa, sometimes the chair, once from the foot of the bed. She didn't touch herself despite the temptation, didn't participate physically. She watched, and she felt. She held both necklaces in her hand when the intensity got too much, feeling the pendants bite into her palm, grounding herself.
Then came the moment that would stay with Ellie longer than any other.
Kelly was behind Becca, sat back against the headboard, her arms around Becca, her hand between Becca's legs. Becca was sat back against Kelly, and from Ellie's vantage point on the sofa she could see everything… Kelly's fingers sliding slowly in and out of her wife, glistening erotically, the movements slow andunhurried, and Becca's body responding to each stroke, her hips rocking gently, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
But Becca wasn't looking at Ellie. For the first time all night, there were no glances at her, nothing.
