violentine lemons. 🍋

Please

Like every night, Violet ends her evenings with a call to her girlfriend. She and Clementine have been together for almost two years now, but right now, they live in different cities. They're college sweethearts, and Clementine is spending her last semester at a fashion internship in New York while Violet stays at school in Boston to finish up her studies in French Literature. They're nearly four hours apart, and they both keep busy schedules. While seeing each other can be difficult, calling each other before bed is easy, like clockwork. Violet couldn't imagine going to bed without it.

Violet settles in bed and calls Clementine. She picks up on the first ring.

"Hi babe," Clementine answers brightly.

"Hey," Violet opens. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," Clementine starts, "work was a lot though. I didn't even get home until after 6. This stupid client had me running all over Midtown matching fabric samples. I was ready to lose it."

"You sound like you need to relax a little," Violet offers with a chuckle.

"I am relaxed," Clementine asserts. "I had some wine earlier. I feel...good." Violet smirks, deciding to test Clementine and see how far she can go.

"How good?" Violet asks. She hears Clementine inhale sharply.

"Like...good enough that if you were here, I'd probably be in your lap making out with you." That's what I was getting at, Violet thinks to herself, eager to know that she and Clementine are on the same page.

"Tell me what you're wearing," Violet commands.

Clementine giggles. "That's something a creepy old man would ask. You sound like a sugar daddy right now. Or a State Farm commercial."

Violet laughs. "Please, I'm serious. Tell me." I want to picture you, she doesn't say, but she's thinking it. She wants to build a mental picture.

"A big black t-shirt and no pants. And... pink underwear, if that interests you."

"It does," Violet says immediately. She's picturing her precious Clementine, drinking wine in bed in her pretty little pink thong underwear, her legs crossed and outstretched in front of her. The image in her head is so sweet and so tempting.

"Actually..." Clementine starts. She pauses for a second, and Violet can hear rustling sounds on the other end of the line. "Make that just a t-shirt."

Violet licks her lips, adjusting the mental picture she's creating of Clementine. "Hmm, someone's in a good mood. Did I tell you that you could take those panties off?"

"No," Clementine shoots back, "but I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Clem, you know how this goes. You play by my rules. Even if I'm not there to keep you in line."

Clementine pauses. "I'll be good. I promise."

"Good," Violet affirms. "I want you to tell me what you're craving the most right now. Tell me exactly what you need."

Violet can hear Clementine exhale hard as she starts. "I just need to cum. Hard. I need to be full. I need something... deeper. Like, I need the biggest toy I have, and then some. I need you to take care of me."

Hearing Clementine say these words makes Violet drip. She's never met a girl like Clementine, and she knows she never will again. The word insatiable was created to describe Clementine Mattel. She's sexy, bratty, and absolutely beautiful. Her sex drive is high and all she wants is to be dominated. She's the starving bottom of Violet's fantasies, only real.

"Think about last month when you came to visit me. And we used that purple strap-on. Remember?"

"Yes," Clementine groans softly. It was a particularly good night for both of them – Violet had a new toy for them, one bigger than they had tried before. Violet was almost nervous for Clementine, but she took the toy like a champ, begging for more. The sex was unreasonably hot, and the night ended with Clementine on her hands and knees, banging every part of her body into the headboard, hair firmly gripped in Violet's closed fist, crying out as Violet fucked her too many times to count. Even for a lesbian, there's an animalistic itch that's scratched by pounding into your lover like that. And by being pounded.