Jennie
I squint against the shaft of light. It flickers off my eyelashes, peeking through the rust-coloured maple trees outside. I groan and roll over, away from the light. My brain has been thickly marinating in alcohol all night, and I need a couple more seconds to sleep it off.
I roll onto Lisa's strong, sturdy chest. She's still asleep, her breaths rising and falling deeply. She's warm too, body heat radiating like a furnace, and I snuggle tightly against it.
At some point last night, she managed to get me back into my clothes and carried me back into the house, into her room. We're still on top of the covers, both fully clothed. Well. Mostly. I managed to kick off one sock in the middle of the night, and the sleeve of my shirt is twisted around my arm.
Apparently, I was fighting beasts in my sleep. Lisa, on the other hand, sleeps like a corpse. I don't think she's moved once all night, her legs still straight out in front of her, one arm around me, the other on her stomach.
I feel like poking the statue. I slip my hand up her shirt and trace my fingertips over the muscles carved into her stomach. Still nothing. I press a kiss to her neck, underneath her jaw. "Lisa..." I murmur softly.
Again, nothing. I nibble her ear and tug her earlobe between my teeth. "Lis......" I coo.
She doesn't move, doesn't even open her eyes, but this time, I get an audible response. "What?"
Grumpy. Did I think she would be any other kind of morning person? I stroke my hand over her chest. "Guess what day it is?"
"Friday."
"Accurate. But not what I'm going for." I rest my cheek against her chest. "It's the day of the rehearsal brunch. Which means I have exactly twenty-four hours to pull off a full-fledged wedding. You know. No big deal."
Lisa shifts her arm around me so she can look at her Rolex. "Twenty-five hours."
"Oh, goodie." I tickle my fingers over her chest. "What should we do with the extra hour?"
I feel her abdomen clench just slightly at my touch. "Stop." she says.
"What?" I ask, feigning innocence as I bat my eyes up at her.
She growls and rolls over on top of me, her fingers locking my offending hand above my head. As she does, I feel her stiffness strain through her pants and press against my leg.
"Oh." I flicker my eyes down and then back to her face. "That."
"Shouldn't you be hungover?"
"You're right." I slip my free hand through her thick curls and tug her hair. "I could use a little perk me up..."
"You're not cute."
"I'm very cute. And you like it."
"I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?"
I shake my head. "No."
Lisa tilts down and draws a trail of warm, morning kisses down the side of my face. I gasp. Her hand snakes up my shirt and cups one of my breasts. She rubs my nipple, hard and sensitive, underneath her thumb and I moan, a spike of pleasure bursting between my legs and forcing me to clench my thighs. Lisa shifts forward so her knee is snug tight between my legs, smashing my aching sex. I gasp and writhe against her thigh as she kisses, sucks, and fondles me, expertly controlling the heat of my desire as it ebbs and flows over me in waves. My body arches, speckled with morning sun, my clothes twisted half-on, half-off.
"Lisa..." I whimper breathlessly.
"Quiet." she whispers in my ear. "These walls are thin."
Unfairly, just as she tells me to be quiet, she pushes her hand up my skirt, pulls my panties to the side, and dives a finger deep inside of me.
I gasp, loudly, and I fist her hair.
"It's not... that... it's just..." My words are jumbled around my brain, and it takes me a second to collect them all. "Do you think having the wedding around the train tracks is a good idea?"
"What?"
"I mean, at first I thought it was cute, but now I'm worried that it'll be too much."
Her eyes darken. "Are you really thinking about the wedding right now?"
"I'm not... not thinking about it..."
"Stop thinking."
"I can't just... oh."
