On Top of the Covers
(with love, on your birthday)
To: TwiCharmed
From: YellowGlue
never in the sheets, she likes it on top of the covers...
-Girl Talk: Play Your Part
One year ago today, I was carrying her from the forest floor - passed out, freezing cold. Her red-from-the-wind cheeks had matched her red-from-crying eyes.
Not her birthday, but two days after it. That day we don’t talk about...
She spent her birthday this year in Florida with her mother, and two days later now, she was due at the airport any minute.
I shifted my weight from my left foot to my right where I stood next to Charlie, awaiting her arrival. We made eye contact in our peripherals, each of us semi-smiling.
Awkward. Standing next to him was beyond awkward.
Last year we were friends - or the closest thing Charlie had to friends for as much time as he liked to spend alone. He’d fallen all over himself thanking me for weeks for returning his daughter to him safe and sound.
The last few months had been a slightly different story though.
In truth and fairness, that was both our faults. While Charlie didn’t “know” anything for a fact, the way she looked at me was obvious to anyone who could see it, and I hadn’t kept her very honest when I was helping her sneak out her window every other night.
I couldn’t help it. She hadn’t given it up yet, but fuck if I didn’t want to spend every hour I could with my body up against hers.
Over our clothes usually. Mouths open, taking and giving kisses in turn. Hands coming to know the feel of one another's hardest and softest places. On top of the blankets in my bed, we’d turn and tangle for hours, until she was this blushing, begging little thing, whimpering and grinding and all Please, Sam... Please.
When I lit her up just right - teased her relentlessly and drew her pleasure out with soft touches, kissing and sucking and nipping with my teeth at the bottom of her tummy where she’d let me push her shirt up... When I held her release from her and made her me ask for it, she’d shake from her head to her curling little toes when she came, bucking her hips against my hand through her jeans. Then she’d erupt into this adorable fit of almost completely breathless giggles.
I loved that sound, loved seeing that smile on her face. All pleased and grateful, not a worry or care or pain in her whole world. I wanted to make her that happy all the time.
I licked my lips and dropped my eyes to my shoes, trying to hide the grin the following thought brought to my face.
I could just tie her to my bed and keep her there. Feed her by hand. Tease and worship her body with mine, constantly - the way it deserves to be. The way she deserves to be.
I dragged my hand down my face, pushing the thought from my mind. The last thing I needed while I was standing next to her Dad was a hard-on.
I scanned the crowds of people for her face, looking for her in an effort to clear my mind. It was really no use though. I hadn’t seen her in days, and every part of me was acutely and achingly aware of it: Her absence, my missing her. Her pending arrival, all the things I wanted to do to show her how much I’d missed her...
The night before she’d left, she’d surprised me in the best way.
The blankets on my bed were a mess from the hour or so we’d spent twisting and rocking against one another. I’d break from her lips to kiss her neck, the top of her chest, her stomach where she’d let me push her camisole up but not all the way off. But I couldn’t stay away for long, I’d return my lips to hers after just minutes. She had the sweetest mouth - all those soft sounds she made, the taste and feel of her tongue, the way her jaw would fall slack and her mouth would just hang open, gasping in shallow breaths right before she broke apart...
Her departure the next morning made me hungry for every kiss I could take before she left. And she was not without want of her own.
“Relax, baby,” I shushed her gently, my lips near her ear. She ground her hips against mine, desperate and frantic for friction, pressure, release. She was working too hard. She was going to lose it...
She groaned into the bend of my neck and I pressed my hand firmly between her legs, over her jeans.
“Bella, baby, relax. I’ve got you.”
I could feel her through the denim, feel how much she wanted me. I pressed harder against her, rubbing my fingers in a demanding pattern that exerted authority and made her coo as she gave in.
Without warning, she dragged her hand from where she was squeezing my shoulder down to her jeans. Her other arm tightened around my neck, holding tightly to me as she undid the copper button and fly, and reached to tug my hand inside.
“I need you, please, Sam. Touch - Ohhhhhh -”
Both of us lost our words as my hand slid against her. She arched her back and bent her knees, and spread her legs farther apart for me, searching for a better angle, for more contact.
I squeezed the back of her neck with my other hand, holding her in place and trying so hard to maintain control. She whimpered louder, writhing upward against my body and I held her tighter still, closing my eyes, feeling her all hot against my hand.
My fingers slid up and down, spreading her open with each pass - she was soft, all soft and smooth and bare and so wet. I held tight to her neck to keep from standing from the bed and turning on the light, tearing her jeans and panties from her because now that I’d felt her, I wanted so much to see her, naked and spread for me. I held tight to her to keep from dropping down between her legs, and taking into my mouth, onto my tongue all the sweetness I felt all over my fingers.
Again and again she came, shaking hard, tears of too-much, too-good welling up in her eyes. I was careful with her, staying mostly outside, rubbing tight little circles over and around her clit. She was beyond words, but I listened carefully to the pitch of her cries and gave to her everything she needed.
I dragged the last one out for so long she was almost completely incoherent, her head turned left into the pillows, her face twisted with need and pleading. For long, slow minutes, I swirled my fingers between her clit and her opening, dipping inside and drawing more of her wetness out, rubbing it gently into the little nub, making her arms and legs and stomach all quiver.
She was mumbling, begging these high-pitched, breathy sounds. I gave in slowly. Just the tip of my finger at first, then back out, then in again, a little deeper.
Then out again.
Then in again, a little deeper still.
She lifted her hips from the bed, arching her back higher, desperate. I pressed the heel of my hand against her, pushing her back down into my bed.
Her pleasure echoed in my ears and I slid my finger deeper, curling it gently inside her, coaxing her need out and making it mine.
She bloomed hotter against my hand, her whole body trembling as she crested. Her cries gave way to airy laughter almost right away, and her arms wrapped tight around my neck, clinging to me, thanking me with the softest, most innocent and most exhausted little kisses.
I rolled my eyes, willing my cock to stand down, turning my body momentarily to adjust it and keep it secret.
The time and effort I spent willing it down was all for nothing though. Bella arrived just minutes later, smiling bright.
Standing next to Charlie hadn’t been awkward at all; it was nothing compared to the ride back home.
The way she looked at me was obvious to everyone that could see it, and I was counting the hours until I could help her sneak out her window and get her on top of the covers, in my bed.
