Love Isn't as Easy as the Books

Part 7

 "Mind if I go to the bathroom?" Becky asked. "I kinda want to take off this makeup and club crap."

"Go ahead," Freen pointed. Becky slipped off her shoes and moved into the bathroom.

While Becky was removing the thick layer of foundation and eyeliner and everything that she seemed to have to wear for the job, Freen was slipping out of her red dress, neatly hanging it up and laying in the middle of the bed in nothing but her matching black silk bra and thong.

Her long, pale legs were in stark contrast to the dark bedspread. She ran her fingers through her hair to get it to sit just right over her left shoulder, and then she waited.

When Becky came out of the bathroom, Freen was stunned. Her complexion seemed darker out of makeup and the poor lighting of the club, her entire look seemed a little rougher and suited her better. Her look brown hair looked wieldy and reveling in the freedom from the tight ponytail she'd had it in earlier. Becky's ample chest was just barely contained by what Freen was no realizing was only the vest part of a white three piece suit which showed up her rippling biceps. And her surely muscular legs were slightly contained in the tight black skinny jeans.

Becky meanwhile was standing, staring at Freen like a slack jawed yokel. She was absolutely stunning (as evident by Becky being stunned silent). For a brief second she was disappointed that she wasn't the one to pull that luxurious red dress off of her, but it was quickly squashed by awe at her beauty and pure sexual excitement.

After overcoming her shock, Becky gave a wide grin and ran towards the bed. Becky leapt onto the bed and landed next to Freen, who panicked for a second a jumped to the side. But Becky just landed next to her with her head resting on her hand and said, "Hey there. I couldn't help myself."

Once again she reduced Freen to a fit of laughter. "You are such a dork. A charming, incredibly hot, dork."

Becky just beamed as Freen wrapped her arms around those sculpted shoulders and kissed her. "Well I'm glad someone likes it."

"I do, I do," Freen muttered into Becky's mouth. "Now, I do believe that it is massively unfair that you have on more clothes than me."

Becky barely registered the comment, she was trying to focus on everything else: the taste and feel of Freen's lips (reminiscent of vodka and strawberries); the feel of Freen's skin as her hands trailed her naked legs (smooth and warm and what heaven must feel like); Freen's had brushing the hair out of her face; the other hand starting to attack the buttons on Becky's vest; how she smelled (like citrus); and all the while trying to commit every possible second to memory while some distant thought echoed through her occupied mind. How soon is too soon to fall for someone?

Freen couldn't believe her luck. Becky was easily one of the prettiest people she'd ever met, somehow more perfect without her club makeup on. She was fit, she was eager. Becky smelled faintly of sweat and liquor with the barest hint of vanilla. Jesus Christ she was an excellent kisser. Her tongue was something special, and Freen couldn't wait.

For the first time in memory, Freen was struck with performance anxiety. She wanted this to go better than great. She couldn't be bothered to think of why, but it made her hands shake slightly as she tried to undo the buttons on Becky's vest. It might not have helped that she kept getting distracted with Becky's kisses.

Eventually, it could have been seconds, minutes, or lifetimes, Becky shifted everything so Freen was now lying beneath her.

From her position straddling Freen, Becky's hair covered them both. Eventually she sat back and pushed her hair back as Freen finally opened Becky's vest.

"I really need a haircut," Becky muttered.

"I think it looks fucking hot."

Becky just grinned and pulled off her vest, revealing an expensive and well worn push-up bra, also a set of near perfect abs.

She reached behind her and unhooked the bra as Freen looked on in awe, hands absently tracing the lines of Becky's muscles.

"Freedom," Becky whispered as she flung the article of clothing from her body.

"It is rather unfair how attractive you are."

"Back at ya," Becky countered. "You know you can touch as well as look."

"I know," Freen breathed as she took another second to admire the view. The next second, Freen took control. She moved her hands across Becky's dark, chiseled skin up to her perfect, perky tits that fit so nicely in her hands. Freen leaned up and kissed her once more, before pushing her back onto the bed and putting herself on top.

Their lips were practically glued together as Freen gleefully caressed Becky's breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers.

"You have such wonderful hands," Becky moaned as they broke their kiss in a desperate need for air.

Freen didn't respond, she just kissed along the underside of Becky's jaw towards her ear. She playfully bit the earlobe in front of her and whispered, "My safe word is kumquat."

Becky snorted. "Who says kumquat, like ever?"

The pale woman on top said nothing. She just moved quickly. She kissed her way down Becky' neck to her nipples as her hands went to the belt on the only remaining pair of pants.

Freen's playful biting sent shivers all up and down Becky's spine.

"Goodbye pants," Freen said as she finally got a look at those muscular legs she couldn't wait to have wrapped around her head. "Ooh, someone was prepared."

Becky blushed as she was only left in a dark purple thong. Freen grinned from her position near Becky's belly button. Their skin was in stark contrast where it touched, and Freen's green eyes were burning with desire.

With one last nip at Becky's abs, Freen slid down. She teased Becky with a lick through the cloth of the thong that absolutely drove Becky wild, so did the little nibble on Becky's inner thigh.

"You're so mean to me," Becky whimpered.

Freen flipped her hair so she could look into Becky's eyes. "Am I? What would you have me do to not be so mean?" she asked with wide eyes and a bad attempt at sounding innocent. As she was doing so, her hand was tracing small, lazy circles around Becky's slowly dampening panties.

"Oh fuck me," Becky moaned. "Fuck me six different ways. Use your hands, use your mouth, use something, just please Freen, fuck me."

It was hands down the most beautiful sentence Freen had ever heard. Really the only thing she was going to remember about it, was how Becky looked at her, blue eyes full of desire and awe and lust, looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and how her name sounded rolling off Becky's lips like there was no other name she'd ever need to say again.

Freen gave her a salute, "Yes ma'am!"