Đọc truyện tell me

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Tell me

Title: Tell me Part (1/2)

Pairing: Yuri & Tiffany (YulTi)

Rating: NC17/smut

Stepping into the throbbing, under lit bar, Tiffany felt the adrenaline tremors in her fingers and toes. She bit back a tiny cry of frustration. It felt too good. Her blood, rushing and pulsing along with the eye-watering bass line of the music sang at the sight of so many eligible women. In so many ways, it was a relief to be single again. The dance floor beckoned, the music burrowing under her skin, impelling bones and muscles.

So much for dumping me, Taeyeon. You caused me so much misery lately, she mumbled under her breathe.

The sight of the crowded bar was as welcoming as an oasis in a desert. She pitched her body forward, weaving through the tangled humanity, riding the waves of undulation like a pro, until it deposited her at the farthest edge of the long stretch of scarred wood and brass. She held up two fingers at one of the bartenders calling out for a shot of whiskey, scowling until a woman with prominent cleavage scooted her way.

Brown hair, short…but sexy…hmm… she inspected the girl at the back of her mind.

All motion was concentrated, reduced to its most basic and well-rehearsed forms, an intricate rhythm nonetheless. Tiffany was surprised her body remembered how to seduce without trying, lapsing into the relaxed, seductive and yet slightly bored stance with practiced ease. It was not a skill she’d used often in her one-year relationship and she wondered for a moment if that had spelled its eventual demise

Stop it! Less analyzing, no hooking up, more drinking, she thought as her drink ordered was placed in front of her.

Yes, a nice whiskey haze would soften the razor sharp edge of her thoughts. She leaned into the bar, resting a hand lightly on the surface of her glass, letting the curtain of her chestnut hair swing forward, brushing her shoulders and chin, only to flick it back into place with a haughty sigh.

One more minute and I’m out of here.

The woman continued to work her way to Tiffany with a slow and deliberate saunter.

“My name is Sunny,care for a drink?”

“No, thank you, “Tiffany replied as she shifted her position away from the woman as Sunny sauntered her way back into the crowd.

After a while, the girl started to feel the boredom drinking alone.

Stop mourning over what’s gone, Fany, time to get into some party mood before you take your leave.

Cupping her glass, she pivoted and then waded into the tidal pool of milling bodies, keeping her face carefully bland. She enjoyed being buffeted back and forth, grasping the flotsam of conversation as she moved. It’s almost like she’s a part of it, trolling with hope, netting possibilities.

And then the beat hooked her.

Tiffany found her hips twitching, head bobbing before she could control it. Raising her glass to her lips, she emptied the contents in one open-throated swallow. The alcohol swatted ineffectually at her hyperactive reflexes.

Her foot started to tap.

No. I can’t stay.

She tried to remember going to bars, searching faces for the one. It wasn’t too long ago but only vague recollections surface, they don’t sustain.

The bar was small and narrow, the floor was slanted, rolling down from the stairwell leading into the main area peppered with tables dipping toward the bar and then bottoming out at the dance floor. The blue lights were on and pulsing. Hands rose above the bobbing heads on the dance floor, twisting a snake charmer’s dance. Tiffany watched them, fascinated. Inside, her emotions were tepid and flat as glass. She shook off the welcome pull of lethargy, of numbness, sheltering the tiny twinge of excitement inside like a lit match in a strong breeze.

I should just go, she thought as she planted her glass on a ledge littered with dozens of empties.

“Would you like to dance?” Tiffany felt a humid gust of breath at her ear as she turned. Her stomach plummeted and the palms of her hands started to tingle.

Taut tanned skin, sweetly displayed by a tiny white half shirt is a definite lure. Tiffany caught herself before she smiled.

How can someone look so innocent and still be barely dressed?

Glossy dark hair and a lopsided smile made the shouted invitation much more seductive. Something stirred and Tiffany wasn’t sure if it was her due to her flight instinct.

“No,” she shouted against the music, allowing her smile to show to take the sting out of the flat refusal.

Mistake.

“A drink then?”

“No. No, thank you.” She choked on the words.

Mentally, Tiffany tried to flee past the bouncer to the streets she had been aimlessly wandering, but her body was penned, mired down. She doesn’t have the energy to fight in reality. Not the crowds, not herself.

“Just one drink?”

“Fine.”

The girl did not hear as much as see Tiffany’s surrender. The lopsided smile straightened, showing her teeth.

“My name is Yuri!” she offered, extending a hand. Tiffany eyed it, and then took the slender fingers in her own only to receive a gentle squeeze before the girl took full possession. Her hand closed over Tiffany’s and suddenly Tiffany was being towed back toward the bar. She watched Yuri’s back muscles flexed as she trailed behind her. This moment was too real. Tiffany had been to places like this… and she knew what was to follow, but she can’t let go of the girl’s hand.

As they reached the bar, Yuri directed Tiffany to a seat.

“I’ll be back,” Yuri whispered as she walked towards the bartender. Within seconds, the woman had a drink in each hand.

Tiffany let loose a smile, this time, deeper, and more inviting.

How many types of smiles can one person have? Yuri wondered. She wanted to explore this possibility and take its measure.

“What’s your name?” Yuri asked, leaning in closer. The satiny feel of bare abdomen brushed against Tiffany’s arm, and her body woke briefly. Tiffany took a sip of her drink. Somehow sharing her name seemed too much to ask.

“You know what?” Tiffany declared with false brightness, her face in profile, always turning away from prying eyes.

“I do want to dance.”

Yuri’s eyebrow arched and returned.

“Great,” she grinned, bouncing slightly, already starting to take up the rhythm.

Tiffany felt a tickle at the back of her throat. It swelled, crawled down her throat and into her belly. She gulped her drink, hoping to drown it, but the feeling remained. Intrigue. Lust.

Yuri had a dancer’s body, perfectly proportioned. She looked young, no more than twenty-two, Tiffany guessed. Yuri waited expectantly while Tiffany finishes her drink, tilting her head to the side, appraising the beauty.

Her smile…pretty yet sorrowful…who or what made her like this?

When Tiffany had finished her drink, Yuri took the glass from her, gave it to a passing waitress, and took her hand again. Yuri then took Tiffany’s other hand and moved in front of her, hands behind her, clearing a path to the dance floor. Her hips swayed as Tiffany tried not to focus on it. Tiffany then rights herself, hands on Yuri’s shoulders, but flailed about it in her mind, trying to understand what was it about the Yuri that was throwing her off balance.

Yuri began to move with one hand snaking around Tiffany’s waist, inviting her to join. Tiffany’s hips slid into the beat without thought as Yuri pulled her closer, sealing the gap between them. Together, they curled into the music, a sultry rumble of bass and throaty vocals.

As one, hips started grinding, rippling.

Yuri twisted in her arms and now she is facing away. Her neck arches, pressing into Tiffany’s, intentionally erotic. Tiny bursts of heat exploded within Tiffany, taking her breath away. Her face was almost buried in Yuri’s hair. She wanted to touch it and feel it’s heaviness in her hands. She raised a hand but then forced it back down.

Too much temptation there.

Her eyes casted about for a distraction, a way to disconnect from the moment, but all she saw was the same pattern playing out with other couples, other bodies.

Why do we do this? Why do we play coy and then reveal, without words, our deepest desires?

She inhaled, starved for air, only to catch the scent of Yuri, a commingling of earthiness and musky perfume. It’s so personal, or rather, an unsophisticated seduction.

Tiffany was powerless against this kind of offense.

Yuri leaned her head back against Tiffany’s chest as Tiffany’s nipples pebbled at the gentle friction. She wasn’t wearing a bra and Yuri felt it, her shoulder blades deliberately grazing the hardened peaks.

Tiffany groaned, low in her chest, barely audible. The arch of Yuri’s neck was beneath her lips. With the flow of the music, Yuri’s head inclined to one side as her hair swept across her back, exposing the elegant curves of her collarbone and shoulder, both begging to be tasted. Tiffany wished she could be freed from temptation as she would lose herself any moment from now. And so Tiffany did, allowing the whim that had brought her this far to carry her further, lips brushing Yuri’s skin, feather light.

Yuri stiffened and then melted against Tiffany with a sigh.

She’s so warm, Yuri thought.

Tiffany’s hands fluttered, seeking escape, only to come to rest on Yuri’s bare waist. Moved by the rushing of her blood, they skimmed forward, tingling, trailing the planes of Yuri's abdomen until her palms are pressed flat against the girl's stomach, possessively.

Testing, her hands moved, gliding over Yuri’s gyrating ribcage as fingers splayed. She stopped as her fingers encountered rounded softness. They lingered there until Yuri moved, bending and twisting against her, her breasts surging into Tiffany’s hands.

The throbbing between her legs was not just due to the beat of the bass. It ached. Tiffany could imagine taking Yuri right there, on the dance floor, and she nearly laughed out loud. She remembered feeling this once upon a time, too. Yuri moaned, eyes closed as Tiffany caressed the softness beneath her hands; her palms abraded painfully hard nipples.

Tiffany found it mesmerizing that a stranger would literally bare her throat and make herself vulnerable in front of hundreds of other people. But as she realized this, she also knew that in giving, Yuri was gaining some power for herself.

All sex is power.

Yuri turned again, back into Tiffany’s arms, her own snaking around Tiffany’s neck.

“You’re so hot,” she cooed in Tiffany’s ear. Her lips were tender, smiling but pouty. Her eyes were wide and subtly pleading.

Tiffany squirmed away, eyes casted to the floor. She can’t see their feet moving. The floor was a puddle of darkness. Tiffany wanted that, all black. No talking. She glanced up, fleeting, flickering, and taking in the confused crease in Yuri’s forehead.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered, knowing that Yuri would not be able to hear.

The girl loomed closer, trying to catch Tiffany’s words.

“Do you want to go somewhere? To talk?” she shouted against the loud music.

Tiffany felt something dark within her expand, an awful yearning that bordered on hatred.

To want again…

She shook her head just as an explosion of aggressive house techno thrashed the air. The bodies surrounding them quickly morph from the fluidity of the slower, sensual music, hardening now into the erratic and percussive thrusts of hip, shoulder and elbow. The change was palpable. Yuri and Tiffany stood immobile, eyes locked, in the midst of this frenzy. Dizzy again, Tiffany’s vision doubled, her thoughts careening through her head.

No… I can’t be here…

It’s just one night…

And then what?

“I can’t do this.” She staggered.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” Tiffany swiped at her hair which had spilled onto her sweaty brow, and approximated nonchalance for Yuri’s benefit.

“No, I mean, yes, I’m fine. Excuse me.”

She turned to escape, panic whizzing through her now, eyes still turned away, but Yuri bended low, sweeping into her range of vision, snaring her with a solicitous look. Tiffany expelled a frustrated sigh as her body hive of conflicting needs.

“Do you need some air? We could go outside?”

The smell of sweat, thousands of pores oozing alcohol and nicotine, assaulted her nostrils as Tiffany choked, her throat closing up.

“Uh, no. No. I’m just going to the… the restroom… I’ll be right back.”

Spinning away, she plowed ungracefully through the dance floor, leaving Yuri to stare after her.

In the perpetual twilight of the bathroom’s fluorescents,Tiffany waited for the crowd of women preening before the streaked mirrors to clear out before she splashed her hot cheeks with cold water. Finally she was alone. She leaned her elbows on the chipped porcelain and then buried her face in her hands. Her breathing was the shallow, gossamer whisper of grief held at bay by a thin thread of control.

“I… I thought I should check on you… You looked so pale.”

In the unforgiving light, Yuri’s beauty blazed forth with a clarity impossible to imagine on a darkened dance floor. She looked even younger, so very trusting even. Her cheeks were ruddy, impossibly tight and smooth. Tiffany traced them hungrily with her eyes.

Tiffany’s hands were still raised, hovering in front of her face. Her mouth hung opened. She can’t think of a single response.

Yuri’s lips, pink and ripe, exerted the irresistible pull of gravity well. Tiffany could not tear her eyes from them. She took a tentative step forward and Yuri moved to meet her. Her lips were dry as they hesitantly brushed Yuri’s lower lip.

Whatever worries were banished as Yuri began to return her kiss. She stumbled backward until the cold concrete wall was at her back and the warm length of Yuri’s body was pressed against her.

The kiss was like a dream; easy, sweet, promising. Tiffany was careful not to devour or to show the ugly yearning that threatened to swallow Yuri whole. Lips wet, slid against each other, learning the choreography of a kiss with slow, deliberate steps. Yuri gasped, a tiny breathless confession as her arms reached around, drawing Tiffany closer.

Yuri’s sweetness soon ignites and became more elemental. No longer timid, her tongue darts boldly, teasing, coaxing. She laughed huskily against Tiffany’s lips. Her eyes… they were so fierce and confident they took Tiffany’s breath away.

“Come here.” Yuri took her hand, tilting her head towards the stalls. Her eyes are heavy-lidded and full of promise. Yet, not trusting enough for Tiffany to tell her name. After all, they were just strangers.

Yuri did not wait until the door clanged shut before her mouth found Tiffany’s, sucking her lower lip.

“God,” she breathed, frenzied hands pulling down Tiffany’s jeans and nudging aside soaked cotton underwear. Tiffany bit the inside of her cheek but Yuri shook her head.

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear you,” Yuri whispered against her neck. Her tongue danced across Tiffany’s collarbone as her finger dipped into the quivering heat.

“uhhhhhh….”

“Yes,” Yuri hissed, “I want to hear you.”

One finger became two as Yuri plunged deeper, the rhythm more insistent, brushing Tiffany’s clit with every thrust. Tiffany emitted a strangled whimper as the light all around her diminished. Yuri’s tongue found the curve of Tiffany’s jaw, her earlobe and the sensitive place behind as her fingers encompassed a breast, cupping it and then tugging gently at the nipple. A deep, primal moan erupted out of Tiffany’s mouth. Her hands desperately seek purchase on the slick metal walls as her body started to hum and shudder.

“So tell me…what’s your name?” Yuri murmured.

Reality hits Tiffany as that question was being brought up- Her, in the restroom hooking up with a stranger. She had yet to come and she needed that orgasm now but having sex with a stranger after a bad break up was bad enough and the last thing she ever want to do was to have it in a filthy restroom of a pub.

“Are…Are you ok? I’m sorry if I had asked the wrong question…I just…”

Tiffany, sensing it was the expected appropriate thing to do, leaned down and stopped the girl’s unravelling skein of words with a delicate, questioning kiss.

“Let’s get out of here,” she challenged, mumbling against the ceaseless probe of tongue and convergence of lip.

Yuri nodded as she broke contact long enough to rasp, “Where? Your place?”

“No,” Tiffany uttered a little too vehemently. “Yours.”

Yuri nodded again, not really hearing as Tiffany straightened her t-shirt and zipped her jeans. The tanned girl then attempted to plant small kisses on Tiffany’s neck.

"We... we need to… to get outside," Tiffany said, breathing heavily as Yuri traced her fingers along her arms. "And we’re not going anywhere if you keep touching me like that."

"Mmmm… okay." Yuri sighed as she pulled her hands away.

Title: Tell me Part (2/2)

Pairing: Yuri & Tiffany (YulTi)

Rating: NC17/smut

With the light came another flood of information. Small apartment, sparsely furnished. A squat blue velour sofa occupied most of the tiny living room with a small table beside it. The kitchen was so compact it looked almost nonexistent. A small countertop bar divided the space.

“So,” Yuri said, arms opened wide. “This is me.” She blushed slightly, rushing to the counter, tidying the dishes, sweeping crumbs into the sink. “Sorry. I have a roommate… She’s kind of a slob. Oh and don't worry, she won't be home tonight.”

Framed in familiar surroundings, Yuri took on a complexity that is intriguing, though it's also overwhelming. Tiffany could picture her, quite clearly, lounging on the sofa on a Sunday morning, thumbing through magazines in her pajamas or maybe after work, work clothes rumpled, with feet propped up on the pillows, channel surfing. Here, she slept, sniffled through the flu, shuffled through her days while dreaming of the future. Tiffany was so caught up in the absolute reality of this vision she didn’t noticed Yuri sidling up to her.

“Do you want something to drink?” Her hands came to rest on Tiffany’s shoulders, fingers twining strands of Tiffany’s hair.

"I have beer, I think."

"Um sure. A beer would be great."

She offered a bottle to Tiffany who took it gratefully, happy to have something to occupy her hands.

"Do you want to sit?" Yuri indicated the couch, her smile encouraging and sweetly open.

Like a Cocker Spaniel puppy, Tiffany thought, but she shrugged again and trudged to the sofa, sinking down onto its lumpy cushions. Yuri plopped down beside her, taking a pull on her beer.

“You never did tell me your name, you know.” She propped a foot up on the sofa and twirls the beer bottle on her knee.

Tiffany shifted her sitting position a fraction, putting a tiny sliver of space between them.

“No, I didn’t, did I.”

Yuri processed it, frowning slightly and then hitched a grin on her face. “Not real talkative, are you?”

“Yeah.” Tiffany answered with a blank stare. It wasn’t intentional, but she did not know how to answer such an obvious question.

Does the girl really wants to know such things? What is she? WHO is she? Why does she look so trusting? I'd never felt like that when i was with Taeyeon.

This caressed her mind, lingering and comforting, as she leaned forward, taking the beer bottle gently from Yuri’s hand and placing it carefully on a small table. She watched Yuri all the while, telegraphing her intentions with silent authority.

"So why did you go to the club?" Yuri asked, in attempt to strike a conversation once again.

"I had a bad break up and I was just going there for a drink or two...that was before I met you, that is, and to be honest, I'm not even sure why I ended up here," Tiffany replied flatly,slightly shocked at her own honest reply.

No wonder her eyes looked so sorrowful when i first saw her.

"ohhh. I'm sorry to hear about that," Yuri said gently. She wanted to know this person in front of her, in a different way ever since she had caught sight of her in the club.

Is 'love at first sight' possible?

"Why don't we get to know more about each other tonight? Instead of you know...just sex..." she continued.

"Why were you in the club then?" Tiffany asked, ignoring Yuri's question. She, herself, wanted to find out more about the tanned beauty as well.

"I got dragged along by my friends. I don't frequent these places though," Yuri shrugged.

She sounds like a serious person.

Yuri spent an hour or so introducing herself, her interests while Tiffany responded. She didn't see a point in introducing herself as she still had reservation, fearing she'll feel anything more than lust for the beauty. However,Tiffany couldn't help but get more interested in Yuri, slightly hoping those feelings were mutual.

As their conversation slowly died down, the playful grin on Yuri's face melted, leaving her face bare of artifice. Tiffany turned and pushed the girl’s knee down, pulling it behind her so that Yuri is now open, legs apart, facing her. As she leaned forward, Yuri surrendered beneath Tiffany’s weight, reclining, welcoming.

Tiffany felt much more comfortable with Yuri now.

Yuri reached for her, smiling, hand cupping the back of her neck, pulling her down. She could feel the heat on her belly as Yuri arched up to meet her. She melted into Yuri’s softness once again, giving in to it.

The girl’s legs reflexively tightened around her as their lips touched. Yuri whimpered softly, her hips rising and falling, beseeching.Tiffany’s tongue invaded as her body pinioned the wildness threatening to engulf them both, held in check by a tiny kernel of calm, like the icy blue at the center of a hot flame.

Slowly, Tiffany’s hands cascaded from Yuri’s face to shoulders and then breasts, gliding over them with the feather-light touch of thistledown alighting on a blade of grass. Swollen nipples strained against the thin material of the girl’s t-shirt, but Tiffany deliberately ignored that, ignoring how hot, swollen and wet she herself had become. She slid her almost clinically noncommittal fingers underneath the white cotton, skimming smooth muscles that convulsed and contract as she touched.

Yuri moaned against Tiffany’s lips, her torso arched, demanding attention. Her tongue danced in and out, tracing Tiffany’s lips, a wordless plea that Tiffany appeased by slipping the tight elastic of her bra aside and cupping generous flesh. Nipples pebbled, grazing the palm of her hand and Tiffany’s breath goes ragged. So smooth. So soft and it had been so long.

Yuri began frantic movements, removing her clothes and Tiffany’s. Yuri let out a flush as her fingers missed a button only to have her eyes found Tiffany’s.

Who are you? Tiffany wondered.

As soon as the question was understood, it gained momentum, ringing out with painful clarity.

I really want to know.

“You have the most beautiful eyes,” Yuri whispered, hands leaving the buttons to caress Tiffany’s cheek. Tiffany swallowed hard.

“It was the first thing I noticed about you, in the bar, those eyes.” The full, round flesh under her hands tightened and swells, teasing Tiffany’s willpower. Tiffany’s breath grew slippery, pouring down her throat until she choked, sputtering, heart racing. She leaned forward, fumbling for the threads of control, capturing Yuri’s full lips again.

“Mmmmmmmmmm” Yuri hummed, head pulling back with a heavy-lidded gaze.

“Tiffany...that's my name,” Tiffany said between kisses as she slipped out of her clothes and undergarments.

She had lost herself to this woman.

“Tiffany…What a beautiful name,” Yuri smiled against her lips.

Every moment, Tiffany knew wasn’t right but she doesn’t care. Her body belonged to someone else now. Thoughts were not needed. There’s something about Yuri that she trusted.

“Hang on. Let me.” Hands free, she started helping Yuri unclasped the buttons. Yuri wiggled, moving until her pants are at her and then kicked them off as they landed on the carpet with a soft thunk.

Yuri’s fingers then proceeded to touch the bare heat. Tiffany sucked in a quick breath, hips lifting, tightening around Yuri’s hand, urging her to explore but Yuri pulled her hand away reluctantly, fingers glistening. Fashioned by purpose, Yuri's will hardened and she ignored Tiffany's pointed sigh, drawing away enough to look down, allowing her eyes to cover territory already conquered by her mouth and hands.

Flawless.

It was not a word that Yuri used lightly, nor does she often thought about. But no other word applied. Yuri had never seen breasts so perfect, skin so incomparably smooth. Shaking it off, she blinked and focused on the girl. Tiffany gestured feebly with her hand, her lips parting.

"Don't stop."

Yuri's lips curled into an unconscious smile. There, on the girl's face, sweetness, vulnerability and a subtle ferocity that controlled even as she begged for more. Yuri’s fingers stroked the silky hair that sprawled on the sofa, tracing the outlines of Tiffany’s chin and cheeks.

"Don't worry. I'm just getting started."

At the base of Tiffany's neck, Yuri's fingers stopped only to find the throb of the girl's pulse beating madly. The rhythm of her breathing increased twofold and Yuri's own shallow gasps fell into sync as the girl turned her head, taking Yuri's fingers into her mouth.

That was when the burn truly began as both of them welcomed the subtle key that unlocked their self control. As Tiffany suckled her fingers, Yuri felt the sensation slowly scorching her spine, branching out and smouldering between her legs.

She turned her head away and groaned. Women can be such a tease some times, she thought as she captured Tiffany's lips once again. But that wasn't enough.

Lower.

The scene fractured into poetry, bursts of sensation that melted away only to reform, solidifying with every touch.

Skin met lips and tongue.

Teeth closed over nipple.

Ribcage.

Belly.

Abdomen.

Dark, velvety hollow of the inner thigh.

Arms and legs twined and then opened like rose petals. The susurrus slide of torso skimmed over abdomen. Nipple touched wetness as shoulders fit between thighs.

Scent. Sweat and perfume and humid, musky desire.

Jolting breath in tatters.

First taste, honey sweet, tentative.

Spasm. Ready for me.

Hips were arching.

Ruby red, glistened, swollened; welcomed and beckoned. Charting, testing.

Reactions register and are elicited again.

Tongue flickered and then plunged and teased, like a dance.

Deep and hidden recessed, exposed.

Her eyes were closed.

Fingers joined tongue and lips, seeking, delving, the rhythm unmistakable now.

Musical cries, muffled, grow louder, plaintive, accented by little sighs, tiny yelps.

Breath penned in, held like a corralled beast straining at the gate.

“No. Not yet.” Yuri smirked, then smiling. “Not until I let you. Not until I say.”

Yuri leaned back, separating herself from the trembling and lush, warm flesh that cried out for her touch. A frustrated moan ripples through Tiffany, and Yuri felt it reverberating in her own chest, in her whole body. Her fingers were tingling as she flexed them experimentally, realising too late as Tiffany released. Atrophied emotions, had flooded her system, a surfeit of pleasure that left her dazed and greedy for a fresh infusion.

“Well, well. I knew you were dangerous,” Tiffany said, puffing at hair that had fallen into her eyes. “You’re trying to kill me by stopping halfway, weren’t you?” she asked playfully.

"But you came hard,"Yuri laughed.

"Roll over," Tiffany said, voice tight and husky, "onto your stomach."

Yuri's breath hitched audibly and her eyebrows shot up.

"What?"

Yuri stared for a moment and then the glimmer of a smile danced across her lips.

"Okay,” she whispered.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulder like a dark velvety shawl, contrasting richly with the sculptural curves of her shoulder blade and hip. Tiffany placed a possessive hand on Yuri's hip, enjoying the way it fitted neatly into the bend between thumb and forefinger. Drawing their gazes even, her eyes reassured and Yuri drew in a deep breath, lashed darkening her cheeks, submitting. Tiffany slowly guided her onto her stomach, both hands fanning out now, caressing the finely delineated muscles of her back, the irresistible dip where round curves and tailbone met.

She tasted the tang of sweat as she kneeled beside her, tongue meticulously duplicating the twining loops and graceful arches.

Yuri's hands clenched at her sides. Enthralled by her small tapering waist, the slope of hip and butt, the silky texture of her skin, Tiffany's hands cannot stop their ceaseless wanderings and nor still her chaotic thoughts.

So smooth...

Another moan. Another abbreviated breath.

She feels so good.

Body curling over and around Yuri’s, her right arm moved down the woman's body and then slipped underneath to cup Yuri's breast in her hand. Her own desire mounted and yet her patience held merciless reigned over her actions. Slowly, she pressed her own aroused tips into the girl's back and then stroked the girl's nipple with her thumb, circling it until it peaked. An incendiary breath fanned the back of Yuri's neck, the tender depression hidden behind her earlobe, and she whimpered.

"I...I can't... I need..."

Tiffany knew it was time to deliver on her implicit promise of release. Her own body felt relentlessly alive with an animalistic serenity, a ceaseless yearning. Tearing herself away from the girl's warmth, she straightened and then slipping her arm to the girl's waist, simultaneously lifting her and restraining her movements.

"I know what you need," she whispered.

Pulling her close, she tucked her elbow around Yuri's waist, her hand snaked across her belly, fingers seeking and finding her clit.

"Lean forward."

Yuri obeyed instantly and, without prelude, Tiffany went on to place her leg between Yuri's, pressing her thigh against the girl's hot center, spreading her legs wider.

Yuri started to rock against her while Tiffany matched the slow grind of Yuri's hips with her thigh. Stroking and circling, she applied intense pressure to the sensitive node of flesh beneath her fingertips. Yuri threw her head back as it lapsed onto Tiffany's shoulder. Sighs chased the moments, blurring them together, as if they were both in a speeding car, looking out the window, watching the scenery melt into a seamless haze.

Even white teeth gnawed at Yuri's lower lip.

"uhhhhhhhhhhh," Yuri moaned over and over, as Tiffany’s fingers quickened. The girl began to shudder and Tiffany tightened her hold, arm taunted across Yuri's abdomen.

"You want this?"

"Yes," Yuri hissed, head lolling back and forth on Tiffany's shoulder now.

"Or do you want more?"

"hhnngg, yes......"

"Then say it." Tiffany whispered, free hand roving over Yuri's breast, fingers alternately pinching and massaging.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Yuri strained against her, body demanding what her mouth cannot. And the words, when they finally broke from her lips, are charged and hoarse with want.

“Do it.”

Her head dropped forward and the words were muffled but clear enough for Tiffany.

“Fuck me. Please.”

Tiffany’s chest and throat tightened even as she sucked in a shaky breath. They bowed forward, pliant, as one, Tiffany’s breath intermittent and hot on Yuri’s neck. Yuri’s hands fell to the sofa, palms flat against the soft blue fabric, elbows locked, bearing her weight. She rocked against the hand that smoothed over her lower body, tensing as it ventured between.

Tenderly, Tiffany both rose and sank into her. Silky warmth surrounded her fingers, gripping them with urgency more eloquent than the girl's softly muttered exclamations. Her hips undulated and her head followed, hair swishing back and forth, fanning the sofa cushions one moment and flipping back to blanket the curve of her back the next.

And as she moves, the light around Yuri's prone body crystallized, shimmering with the perfect clarity of delirium. Tiffany inhaled the sharp scent of Yuri's arousal and physically felt the harmonics of her soft cries resonated through her own bloodstream. The blood roared in her ears but her mind was as transparent as glass, clean and direct. She knew just how to thrust, when to slow down, when to change rhythm. Her fingers were drenched with sweetness, like honey, clamped tight with every thrust. She knew she was panting a little too hard, leaning into the motion, cheek lying against Yuri's back, but her head felt like a balloon attached at her neck.

"ahhhhh...uhhhhh.....hngggggg...."

Even as Tiffany savoured them, it wasn't enough. Her mind fogged,tingled, reaching out with illusory arms.

know me...love me...need me...take me with you...

The tingling sensation reached out, licking her spine.

One hand slid off from Yuri's smooth skin to her own, descending with hypnotic purpose. When contact was made with the swollen aching flesh, the sensation burst behind her closed lids, sucking oxygen within.

After that, the rhythm was easy, taken up with effortless intensity as Yuri's cries collided with her own.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Tiffany felt the muscles inside her trembled around her fingers,clutched, then relax over and over. And then almost in concert, Tiffany found her own release, sudden and shattering. She then exhaled, a shallow echo in her throat.She made a tiny satisfied noise.

The sanctuary of sleep beckoned but Yuri resisted, savouring what she knew. A legion of minutes, fluid, perfect, was quantified only by the matched rising and falling of their breath... seamless.

Tiffany felt Yuri's face pressed on her back and smiled.

A true smile, winged, careless and euphoric.

When she closed her eyes, her facial muscles stretched even wider. A fragile tranquillity lapped at her nerve endings.

"You know...i told myself that i would never ever hook up with a stranger but when i saw you back there, I'd knew I'll break my rules."

"Well, I'd told myself that hooking up after a break up would only make me seem miserable," Tiffany murmured, trying to gain back her momentum from the orgasm.

"Say it. Tell me you want me here,"Tiffany continued.

Who says you can't have love coming after lust? I'm not sure if that's love but I do want her to stay. I want to know everything and anything about her...

"I want you here, Tiffany. I do," Yuri grinned as they laid,spooning.

"So... tell me more about yourself. Maybe you can start by telling me your favorite foreplaying food? We could use it for round 2,"Yuri joked.

"Whipped cream," Tiffany chuckled.

"How about honey too?" Yuri asked.

"Why not add cucumbers....." Tiffany laughed as she snuggled closer to the tanned beauty.

"Cucumbers?!"

"What's wrong with cucumbers?"

"It's kinky. But i guess we can always try out some new stuff,"Yuri smirked as she planted trails of kisses on the Tiffany's neck.

Sometimes, love strikes in the oddest manner.

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