First Time

A little something that I wrote for Clom, just to tide you all over until I post the next part of In Demand.

Rated: X. NSFW.

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It was not how she had expected her first time with a girl to be.

She had always thought that it would be kind and loving and special, a thing of soft touches and gentle murmurings and sweetness. She had thought that she and Ashley would take their time, making slow discoveries together. She had thought it would be in Ashley’s bedroom, with its cool, white sheets and billowing drapes. She had thought that the soundtrack would be something mellow, Damien Rice, maybe, or even something retro like Frank Sinatra, because Ashley had the most surprisingly vast and varied music collection and anything was possible with her.

She had not expected a hot, sweaty encounter in a no-tell motel off the state highway that cost $27 a night (plus tax).

On the way from the front desk to the room, they had been unable to control themselves and the kissing that had started in the club resumed with greater urgency. As Spencer had tried to slip the key into the door of the dingy room, she had felt the brunette’s arms snake around her waist and slide inside her top. When those clever hands had grasped her breasts, squeezing and teasing and pleasing, she had let her head fall forward onto the door with the chipped green paint. It had taken a great deal of effort for her to turn the key and force the door open. They had burst through the door in a frenzy of attached limbs and urgent touches.

Which explained why she was on her back on the floor, her cami top pushed up around her neck, her favourite turquoise bra pulled down roughly and her head writhing from side to side as the brunette sucked and teased her nipple. It was definitely not gentle, nor was the hand that was kneading her other breast and occasionally flicking the nipple with her thumb. There was nothing to hold onto on the floor, so Spencer moved her hands to grab handfuls of hair, holding the brunette’s mouth in place. When she felt teeth nibbling her engorged skin, she couldn’t remain silent any longer.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” she moaned. In response, she felt the brunette grinning.

“You like that, huh?”

She nodded furiously and arched her back more, pressing her nipple deeper into the other girl’s mouth. She realised that her shoulders had been pushing deep into the matted, stained carpet. The last thing she wanted was carpet burns in a place where anyone – including her parents when she had her usual Sunday dinner with them the following day – could see.

“Bed,” she grunted, nodding in the direction of the queen-sized divan.

They scrambled from the floor onto the bed, both taking the opportunity to remove more clothing. A pair of jeans, a tank top, a short skirt and two bras were tossed unceremoniously onto the floor as they moved together, trying to continue kissing while they were undressing. The kisses were sloppy, open-mouthed, greedy and hot. Spencer could taste alcohol and sweat. She knew it came from both of them. The nondescript comforter was kicked off of the bed and Spencer felt herself being pressed into over-starched sheets.

Somewhere within the motel, a couple was having a screaming argument over drink or drugs or infidelity or perhaps all three. It seemed fitting somehow, mixing with the random soundtrack of cars passing and stray cats fighting.

She remembered her other first time, back in Ohio. It had been after Prom and it was in a considerably higher standard of hotel room, the kind with high-end branded toiletries in the bathrooms and carpets with the hotel’s logo tastefully woven into them. She had only been a sophomore, but Ned, her boyfriend, had been a senior. She had known when he had picked her up from her parents’ house in the rented limo, a boxed corsage in his hand, that she was going to give him her virginity that night. His kisses had also been alcohol-tinged, but they had been too forceful, too rough. It wasn’t that she hadn’t been willing – the desire to feel normal and to find out what all her friends had been making a big deal had been strong within her – but Ned had been as inexperienced as she was. His fumblings had been perfunctory and based on some teenage boy’s idea of manliness, rather than any true appreciation for how to give pleasure. When the big event itself had happened, it had been brief, disappointing and uncomfortable. She would carry the image of him spitting on his hand and then wiping it onto the condom for the rest of her life.

In the sticky heat of the cheap motel room, though, lubrication was not a problem. If she had ever thought that she might not be gay, she certainly didn’t have even the slightest doubt any more. There was a persistent and almost overwhelming throbbing between her legs and she could feel the wetness almost seeping out of her.

That night with Ned, she had wanted to lose her virginity as an end in itself, without much thought to how that might be best achieved. Pressed into the lumpy mattress, a burst spring pushing into her lower back, she might have been equally inexperienced and unpracticed, but she had definite ideas of what she wanted to do and have done to her. It was as if her body seemed to know things that her mind had not ever considered: the way she writhed under the brunette, rubbing their bodies together to try to create much-needed friction, was innate, not conscious. When she pulled the other girl up so that she could softly lick the valley between the brunette’s breasts, she didn’t know what she was trying to do until she was actually doing it.

“Fuck, Spencer!” she heard from above her.

As she continued to explore the soft skin with her mouth, she murmured, “Hush now, Ash.”

She really didn’t want words. She didn’t want to hear anything that would break her out of the moment. Despite the fact that she was being driven by urges greater than her willpower, she really didn’t want to start thinking about any of it in case the rational part of her mind reminded her that she had no idea what she was getting herself into and stopped her.

She felt movement and the loss of body contact for a few moments. She took the opportunity to lift her hips and remove her underwear before her alcohol-fuelled bravado deserted her. She still couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes, though. As long as she could persuade herself that this was just a drunken fantasy, she could keep the fears and doubts which had always prevented her from taking this final step at bay.

She waited, breathless and trembling, until she felt her waist being straddled. She could tell from the wet heat against her abdomen that the last remaining barrier between them had been removed. She moaned loudly. It was indescribable, as was the feeling of confident hands on her breasts again. She let her breath out in a long hiss as her pebble-hard nipples were teased by fingers calloused from years of playing various musical instruments. She bit her lip so hard that she thought she might draw blood.

Uncertainly, she lifted her hands from the bed to rest on the knees that straddled her and slowly began to stroke up the inside of the other girl’s thighs. She wasn’t brave enough to go too far; instead, she drew random patterns lightly with her fingernails. The grinding motion she felt against her belly and the trembling of the skin and muscle beneath her fingers told her that she was doing something right. As she felt her wrist being gripped tightly, she wondered if, perhaps, she had been wrong and that she had not been doing the right thing at all. Then her hand was moved. With her eyes still squeezed tightly shut, she could only rely on touch and sound. She felt the knuckles of her own hand against her abdomen and then her fingertips encountered warmth and wetness and heard a pleased hiss from above her.

She didn’t need any help after that. Desire and curiosity took over and she slipped her hand even further down, letting her fingers explore of their own volition. She wanted to look. She desperately wanted to look. She didn’t, though. She couldn’t. The sensations she was experiencing and the impact they were having on her were too much already. The way the slick heat enveloped her fingers and the undulation of the brunette’s hips against the heel of her hand was intoxicating.

“I want you.”

Spencer didn’t know whose voice it was that said it. I didn’t sound like her own, but, then, she was hardly behaving like her normal self.

Then the body above her own moved once more. She felt hard nipples grazing the skin of her chest, then her belly. Her skin was being showered with kisses and nibbles, some of which felt hard enough to leave marks. She wasn’t bothered. Her skin was on fire. Her body was literally jerking off the bed with need. She knew what was about to happen. She knew where it was heading: somewhere no-one had ever gone before.

Randomly, that thought made her think of Star Trek and Kirk’s insatiable desire for space females of different races, species and hues and it made her grin to herself. The smile lasted just as long as it took for her to feel the breath just below her navel. She sucked her stomach muscles in, tensing in expectation. Whatever she had imagined this moment would feel like, it hadn’t prepared her for the sensation of another girl’s tongue between her legs, gently teasing her outer lips.

“Oh, Christ,” she moaned into the dark room. “Christ.”

Then she was being gently pulled apart and she rose right off the bed as she felt the tiniest, most gentle licking sensation right against her wet hole. Possibly what she was feeling was what people meant when they said that their eyeballs rolled back into their head because she was pretty sure that she was now blind with lust.

“Fuck, yes, more,” she urged, even though she didn’t know what she was asking for: everything; anything; whatever was possible.

She was being fucked by someone else’s tongue, she realised. It was hot and hard and soft and wet, all at once. It was making her wetter than she would ever have imagined possible. The tip of someone else’s tongue was inside her and it was making her writhe like a cheap whore and she really did not care. She did not know that sex could be like this. It wasn’t something to endure, something that she wanted to be over with as quickly as possible. It was something that she wanted to last for as long as she could sustain it.

Her body was trembling. Her hips were shaking. She had pulled the edge of the off the bed and it was bunched on either side of her. She had turned her head and had pressed it into the thin pillow, trying to muffle her cries of pleasure. And, then, she nearly lost it completely, as, in one simultaneous movement, two fingers were thrust firmly inside her and her clitoris was being sucked deep and hard.

Her scream was loud. It was more of an insensible howl, really. It was probably loud enough to cause the quarrelling couple to pause their petty argument for a moment. But then she felt that tongue flutter against her straining clitoris and she really knew what pleasure was.

“Ash!” she cried out, drawing that single syllable out into a litany of her own making, as she felt the orgasm that had been building so quickly and powerfully within her explode throughout her body. No wonder people got hospitalised for sex addiction if it could be so goddamned good. She was still jerking with the aftershocks as the brunette kissed her way slowly back up her body and then rolled over onto her back to lie next to Spencer.

“Who’s Ash?” the brunette asked, throwing an arm over her eyes and letting her fingers draw lazy patterns across Spencer’s upper thigh.

“No-one,” Spencer whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Not looking for a wife,” the other girl replied without malice. “Just curious.”

Spencer turned and propped herself up on one elbow. She looked down at her partner – she was sure she would remember the girl’s name as soon as her mind was a little less cloudy – and inhaled sharply. She wasn’t Ashley, but she was beautiful in her own way.

Although Spencer had never seen Ashley fully naked, they had changed in front of each other countless times and she had explored that body with her hands, albeit over clothes. She couldn’t help but run a mental comparison between the two. This girl was taut, with a kind of wiry strength. Judging by the muscle definition of both her abdomen and her arms, she looked like she worked out. Her breasts were fuller than Ashley’s, she knew that much. She had known what it was to hold Ashley’s breasts in her hands and this girl was definitely more – what was the word? – endowed. With an almost intellectual curiosity, she reached out and traced a line underneath the fullness of one of those breasts.

“She’s someone who’s not here just now,” Spencer finally answered.

“You like her?” The girl removed the arm from over her face and smiled at Spencer. She had pale green eyes, almost grey in places. Spencer didn’t think she’d seen anyone with that exact shade before. They were kind eyes, too, regarding her without judgement, without expectation.

“I like you.” It was the truth for the moment. They both knew that it was a truth with, at best, a few hours’ shelf-life, but it didn’t make it any less honest. Spencer allowed her hand to creep up and cup the weight of the girl’s breast in her hand, her thumb lazily stroking the soft skin, not quite touching the hard nipple at which she was now staring. She wanted to know what it would feel like in her mouth.

Melanie, her brain offered. The girl’s name was Melanie. She played bass in the band that had been performing in the club that Spencer had been at that evening. One of the girls Spencer had been out with, one of her new-found friends from college, had introduced them, but she had called her by a nickname that made no sense to Spencer, like PJ or TJ, possibly. And Melanie had flirted with her, openly and honestly, in a way that she and Ashley had never done. She had flirted right back. Melanie looked enough like Ashley that Spencer could pretend just a little.

“You ever been with a girl before?” Melanie asked, her voice hitching in her throat as Spencer started to rub her thumb slowly across her nipple.

“Kinda. Yes. Not really.” She stilled her hand. “Is it obvious?”

Melanie chuckled huskily, reaching up a hand to stroke the side of Spencer’s face. “You’re nervous.”

“Yes,” she admitted. She leaned forward and grasped the nipple between her teeth and licked it slowly with her tongue. “A little,” she murmured.

Melanie’s hand moved to the back of Spencer’s head. “That’s okay.” She gasped as Spencer sucked harder, experimenting with different pressure. “Better than okay.”

Uncertainly, Spencer moved to half-lie on top of the brunette. The feeling of a soft, naked body underneath her was an entirely new sensation. With both of the boys that she had had sex with, she had been underneath, in the classic missionary position. She had made out with Ashley more than a few times, in the bedroom in the mansion where she had always assumed they would eventually make love one day, but they had always been fully clothed and too scared to really give into what they both wanted.

Melanie reached around to place her hands on Spencer’s lower back and opened her legs, pulling at the blonde to settle fully in between them. Once again, she could feel the wet heat of Melanie’s arousal pressed against her, this time against her thigh. She enjoyed the sense of power that it gave her, to know that she had made this girl want her. She reached up to kiss the brunette, tasting herself on Melanie’s lips. It was familiar yet unfamiliar and erotically forbidden.

As they had been before, their kisses immediately became frenzied. She nibbled Melanie’s bottom lip, testing how hard she could bite. Her lover seemed to like that, judging by her small, sharp breaths and the fact that she was pushing herself up into Spencer’s body. Their tongues duelled with each other as Spencer drew enough confidence to skim her hands down the side of Melanie’s body and then circle back up to grasp both of the girl’s breasts in her hands.

She slid down, making sure to press her thigh hard against Melanie’s centre as she did so. She licked and kissed a trail across the brunette’s collarbone, moving slowly lower until her mouth found the slope of her breast. She toyed with the idea of leaving her mark, but she didn’t feel it was her place. This was not her girl. She was only borrowing her for a short while.

“Touch me,” Melanie begged.

Spencer shifted enough that she could insinuate a hand between her lover’s legs, trailing her fingers up her thigh before returning to the slick, wet folds that she hadn’t had time to fully explore earlier. She moaned against Melanie’s breast as she prevaricated, slipping through the wetness apprehensively.

“Inside.” It was somewhere between a suggestion and a command.

Spencer thought of what Melanie had done to her and slowly slid two fingers into the other girl. She entered her easily, so easily that it surprised her. She took a few moments to drink in the feeling of Melanie clenching around her fingers. Mentally adjusting, she thought about what might please the other girl and started a slow motion with her fingers, withdrawing almost entirely before sliding home again. She licked across to Melanie’s other breast, drawing the nipple deep into her mouth and flicking her tongue across it rapidly.

“Mmm, just like that.”

Melanie lifted her left leg and hooked it over Spencer’s hip, forcing them even closer together. Spencer took the thumb of the hand that was buried inside the other girl – she was inside another human being, her mind told her, actually inside them – and pressed it against Melanie’s clitoris.

“Uh-huh. Right fucking there. Oh God, yes.”

Melanie was a talker and, despite her earlier misgivings about it pulling her out of the moment and chasing her confidence away, Spencer was finding it empowering. She found that she wanted to draw more from the other girl. Curling her fingers inside Melanie, she rubbed lightly, rather than continuing with her previous thrusting. Her thumb perfectly matched the tempo her fingers were building and she could tell that the other girl wasn’t objecting to her attempts.

“Oh, yeah.”

She lifted her head a little from Melanie’s breast to look at the brunette’s face. Her head was thrown back so far that she couldn’t see very much apart from her neck. Melanie was twisting her head from side to side on the pillow, so Spencer increased the rhythm.

“So fucking good.” Melanie started to lift her hips and thrust against Spencer’s hand. “Oh, fuck, yeah.”

She lifted both her legs and linked her ankles behind Spencer’s waist, the movement opening her even further against Spencer’s exploring hand. They were both shuddering. She adjusted herself so that she could use her thigh as leverage to push her fingers deeper inside Melanie, who was just muttering incomprehensible words. Spencer’s hand was coated in their joint arousal and her thumb slid over and around Melanie’s hard clit easily.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

Sensing that the other girl was close, she seized Melanie’s nipple in her mouth again and rolled the flat of her tongue around it. With that, the brunette grunted a final curse as her body went completely taut and then slumped back against the bed, her legs falling from around Spencer’s waist.

Spencer felt the pulsing of Melanie’s orgasm around her fingers with a sense of both detachment and wonder. She was pretty sure she was meant to withdraw her hand, but the clenching made it difficult and she couldn’t think of a way to do it with subtlety. Should she ease out gently or all at once, like removing a Band-Aid? That might not have been the best metaphor under the circumstances. She settled for the former, withdrawing slowly, causing Melanie to let out a series of sharp little sighs. She rolled away, propping herself back up on her side again, resting her head on her hand and watching Melanie smiling and stretching languidly.

“You had nothing to be nervous about,” she drawled.

Spencer allowed herself a little grin of triumph. “Really?”

Melanie twisted her head in Spencer’s direction. “For real. That was,” she paused and smirked, “that was all good. Your Ash doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

Spencer bit her lip. She agreed entirely with the sentiment, but it felt inappropriate to agree out loud when she was lying next to her first ever female lover. Melanie rolled off the bed and into a standing position in one impressively lithe movement. It allowed Spencer to view her naked back. There was a small tattoo on her hip of a bird of some kind and a much larger one on her shoulder of a Japanese kanji character.

“What does it mean?” Spencer asked.

Melanie looked over her shoulder at the blonde and shrugged as she pulled her tank top back on without her bra. “It means promise.” She reached down and shook her jeans out before stepping into them. “I saw a soda machine a few doors down on the way in,” she explained. “You want something?”

“Water, if they have it.”

“If they don’t?” Melanie pulled her zipper up, but didn’t fasten the top button. For some reason, Spencer found the tiny triangle of skin that was left exposed incredibly sexy.

“Anything. I’m not bothered.” She was just glad that Melanie getting dressed didn’t mean that the brunette was leaving immediately. While she wasn’t exactly expecting that they would hold each other tenderly all night, she also didn’t want her first time to be a fuck-and-run.

“Be right back.”

Spencer stretched her arms wantonly above her head and flopped back onto the bed. If she was entirely honest with herself, she wanted to make love again, assuming Melanie wanted to. She hadn’t tasted the other girl yet and she hadn’t really allowed herself to fully appreciate being straddled. She was pretty sure that the experience would have been even more hot if she had opened her eyes. She stroked her belly with her fingertips. Just thinking about what had happened was making her aroused again.

“Miss me?” Melanie asked, as she entered the room.

“Yeah.”

She stripped off her clothes quickly and sat cross-legged on the bed, holding out a bottle of Dr Pepper. “This was all they had.”

“This is fine.” Spencer sat up, not feeling self-conscious about her nakedness at all, and twisted the cap off of the bottle. She took a long drink and wiped her hand across her mouth. “What did Gina call you earlier?” she asked.

“PJ.”

“How d’you get PJ from Melanie?”

The other girl shrugged. “When I met Gina, I’d just split from my girlfriend and I kinda spent about two months in my pyjamas feeling sorry for myself. Pyjama Girl, then PJ Girl, then just PJ.”

Spencer took another drink. “Were you and Gina -”

“No!” Melanie laughed, shaking her head. “No, no, no, no, no. She was seeing my roommate, Scott. He used to be our drummer before he got a real job. No, Gina’s definitely into boys.” Melanie put her bottle down on the battered bedside locker and lay back down, lacing her fingers behind her neck. “So, how come you’re here with me and not your girl, anyway?”

“She’s not my girl.”

The other girl snorted. “Yeah, I always call out random names when I’m fucking.”

Spencer blushed furiously. “I am so sorry about that,” she mumbled.

“It’s no big.” Melanie genuinely seemed more interested than bothered. “Shit happens. She was the one you were with before?”

“Mmm.” Spencer also put her drink down and retook her position lying on her side, looking at the other girl. “We were best friends in high school and we were kind of more than that for a while, but it never happened.”

“Still best friends?”

“Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“It always is with girls,” Melanie conceded. “And you two never?”

Spencer shook her head. “No.” She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and tracing the outline of Melanie’s hip tattoo. Close up, she could see that it was a bird of prey of some sort. “She was afraid. Of me, of being together, of being labelled, I don’t know.”

“Mmm.” The brunette turned her head and looked down at where Spencer’s hand was now snaking its way from her hip to graze her belly with her fingertips. “And you haven’t been with a girl since?” Her voice hitched a little, as the blonde’s fingertips started to sweep from her navel to the valley between her breasts.

“I never said I wasn’t scared, too,” Spencer smiled. “She was just more terrified than me.” She tipped forward and pressed a small kiss to Melanie’s ribcage before straightening up again.

“You don’t seem too scared now.”

“Should I be scared of you?” she teased.

Melanie rolled over so that they were facing each other. “Nah. I’m harmless.”

“That’s not how I would describe you.”

“No?” Melanie smirked, cupping Spencer’s breast in her hand and coaxing the nipple to a stiff peak with her palm.

“Nope,” Spencer hissed, arching her back to press her flesh more fully against Melanie’s hand.

The brunette pushed Spencer backwards and clambered on top of her once more, unwittingly fulfilling the blonde’s desire to be straddled again.

“Then maybe we can come up with some more adjectives then.”

* * * * *

Author’s note: Here’s why punctuation and grammar are important. Sezje asked for “Spencer’s first time, NOT Ashley”, which is what this is. What she actually meant was “Spencer’s first time, but not Ashley’s”, which is a very different thing altogether…

In any case, I knew people would want a Spashley ending, so there’s more.

Next up: Part 2, Friends with Benefits [AA]