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Never Stop

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This, Waverly thinks, is what it must be like to swim in the endless ocean. To float, carried on currents effortless and without measure, to be swept up, until there is nothing but to sigh and surrender to the emotions that flood around her, through her, in her. This is what she does to me, she thinks. Nicole. Always, always Nicole.

They are lying on the bed, naked limbs entwined, lazy and happy with afterglow. Waverly leans back, reveling in the feel of the officer’s long body lying behind, spooning her. Nicole shifts the leg that had been draped over Waverly’s, and the susurrus of sheets and the sweet warmth of her body’s caress cause Waverly to twitch, and wiggle her ass tantalizingly back into Nicole’s hips, before she settles again.

Then Waverly gasps as she feels a warm hand trail up her thigh and across the point of her hip. It’s not the feel of those fingertips tracing over her skin that startles her, it’s the depth and immediacy of her response, lighted up and quietly humming, right here, right now. She has never in her life felt anything like Nicole’s touch – the deliberateness of it, slow and full of delicious calm fire. Sometimes it is practically unbearable. She arches and gives a small moan as fingers travel lightly up her ribcage and over the downy hairs of her forearm before dipping up, palm gently cupping the underside of her breast, thumb brushing across the peak of her nipple.

The slow sweet touches continue; Nicole is in no hurry. Waverly can feel the officer’s breath on the back of her neck, just below the hairline, the tongue starting a delicate exploration across the skin there. Nicole leans up a little as she tastes her lover, and Waverly tries to hold herself motionless against the sweep of that mouth.

Nicole is moving her hand again. Now fingertips trace over the planes of her belly, muscles jumping underneath them in response, before trailing back over the swell of Waverly’s hip. A small pause, then the hand continues on its pleasurable circuit, slow and impossibly gentle as fingers trace every curve and dip of skin. Waverly thinks, hazily, that she shouldn’t be surprised – Nicole can set her ablaze like this, with nothing but the smallest of touches.

“Jesus, Nicole.” Words fall breathlessly out of Waverly’s mouth. “What? How do you …“

Her voice trails away. She can feel Nicole’s hair drape delicately across her shoulder, and lips descend against the tender skin under her jawline. Waverly feels the smile barely pressing into her neck; feels the murmured words as much as she hears them.

“How do I … hmm?” the officer exhales. Waverly can hear humor in the voice, mixing in with the undiluted desire. Husky and honeyed and roughened by the day’s shouts and sighs, Nicole’s voice flows over her. It sparks a response deep in her tingling skin and trembling muscles. It dizzies her. Heat strikes low in her belly, coiling hard and fierce before rippling out through her body, like electricity shivering in her limbs. Is she coming? Maybe. God, she can’t even tell any more, she’s so undone.

Nicole chuckles low, and Waverly thinks that this woman knows exactly what she is doing to her. And that she will never stop. And that Waverly never, ever wants her to. It has been hours since they began, the languid afternoon has passed into evening, and still they want nothing more than to pull each other close, feeling lips and skin and clever fingers, the thudding pulse and the mingled breath, to be entirely wrapped up in each other.


It hadn’t always been this way, not in the beginning.

Waverly hadn’t known what it was at first, but felt the pull of Nicole’s brilliant smile and kind eyes anyway, the attraction as natural as breathing. Nicole, for her part, never hid her feelings for Waverly, but was patient, endlessly patient, as was her nature. It soon became plain where the two of them were heading.

When they had first come to each other, it had been sweet and tender, which had not surprised Waverly at all. Nicole had been gentle, courteous, smoothing over Waverly’s uncertainties, kind and generous as the two women began to learn each other. “Is this OK?” she had asked, again and again. “Tell me if this is alright with you,” she had prompted. Waverly had quickly grown in confidence, and the heat between them spiraled with the obvious care they gave to each other.

There had been possessions, and demons, and family troubles, but they had knit a strong bond through it all, and later Waverly began to uncover a delightfully exploratory side to herself that Nicole was happy to accommodate. That was when the relationship had taken a fiery turn; safewords and discussions of consent led to many happy trips through Waverly’s active (and fairly kinky) imagination. Oh, the blissful trouble they could get into.

And then, sometimes it was like today.

As much as Nicole sometimes liked to play rough, sometimes she wanted the fire to burn low and slow and to last forever, making love for hours and hours on end. Waverly had teased her about it early on in the relationship, asking if she had a thing for tantric sex. “No, baby,” she’d said, looking a little surprised. “That’s just how lesbians do it. Three hours is a quickie … we’re just getting started.” Waverly had laughed, not believing. Her previous experience had only been with men, after all, and no one could ever accuse Champ of being a considerate lover, nor of having excess stamina between the sheets.

She hadn’t been laughing the next day. Instead, she had blushed with the memory of how Nicole had brought her up and held her there, body wracked with pleasure, arched and swaying with the orgasms passing through her. They had not been thunderous; rather, they had been like waves lapping a beach, expanding her, in an endless tug of fulfillment and release. She hadn’t known sex could be like that. She hadn’t known her body could DO that.

It was all part of the magic Nicole wound around her like a blanket, and part of why Waverly loved her with such fierce tenderness. They could be anything they needed for each other, fitting easily together until they could barely imagine how it was before. Waverly would not have traded it for the world.


Now, Waverly turns in Nicole’s arms, and raises herself up a little bit to press kisses into that beautiful face hovering over hers. “Ohh,” she sighs. “Baby, you make me feel so good.”

Nicole grins a slow grin, and returns the kiss with ardor. “Yeah,” she husks. “You feel real good right here.”

They pause again, slightly, looking into each other’s faces, open and curious. Waverly brings her hand to Nicole’s cheek, caressing the skin there, as their lips brush together once more. Nicole traces her tongue along Waverly’s lower lip, giving just a hint of a smile, and Waverly responds with parted lips, an invitation. The silky slide of Nicole’s mouth, the exquisite feel of gentle exploration of tongue and lips, and Waverly’s breath has quickened once more. Wrapping her fingers into the strands of red hair, she beckons the officer to follow her down as she sinks back into the mussed sheets.

“Yeah?” Nicole whispers. “You still goin’, baby?”

Hell yes she’s still going. Nicole can drive her all night, just like this, and she would still want more. Waverly groans low, a wordless affirmative, followed by a small urgent nod. She sees desire flare in Nicole’s eyes as the redhead rises to cover her, kissing her long and deep, then straddles her, sitting back astride her hips. Waverly can feel the firm muscles of Nicole’s ass splay across the tops of her thighs, and wet heat pressing into her mound. She feels the flex of Nicole’s thigh muscles snugged up against her sides, rising and falling in subtle motion, and Nicole arches into it, throws her head back, starting a small ride. Waverly lets Nicole set the pace, and soon catches the rhythm and matches it, lifting her hips into that maddeningly slow grind. Her hands find their way to Nicole’s waist, then drop to pull at her hips, stroking against them, encouraging her to take her pleasure. Nicole presses forward a little; her head drops, she bites her lip. It’s beautiful, so fucking beautiful. Waverly thinks (for the millionth time, she supposes) that it is the most glorious sight she has ever seen, Nicole above her, hair falling around her face in waves of burnished copper, breasts swaying with the swing of her torso, body aglow. Waverly’s hands ache to touch her, touch her everywhere, give everything to this woman.

“God, Nicole.” Waverly’s voice comes out as almost a reverent growl. “Look at you.” Nicole’s eyes had been mostly closed, but now they drift open and meet Waverly’s, dark and heavy with lust.

“Tell me, babe. Tell me how you want it.” Nicole leans forward, bracing her hands on the bed next to Waverly’s shoulders, shifting her body as she does. She brings one long thigh between Waverly’s legs, pressing up, and Waverly groans at the delicious friction there. She can’t help but buck against it, unabashed at just how wet she is. Nicole eases down a bit further, dropping down to one elbow, and their torsos slide against each other. Heat builds. Waverly feels it in the pulse at her throat, heavy and quick, where Nicole leans in to kiss then trail lips down to her collarbone.

“I need … need to touch you. L-let me … uhhh …” Waverly trails off as she feels Nicole’s teeth drag gently up the side of her neck, but she is already reaching down between the redhead’s legs and just as Nicole’s mouth covers her own, she slips inside her.

The jolt and ripple seems to pass through both of them, but a couple moments go by before Nicole lifts her head, exhaling. “Yeah, Waves. So good. So good.” The slow pace begins again, and soon Nicole is humming her pleasure, adjusting their positions one more time, lifting up a bit again to allow Waverly the room she so desires, and now she is able to stroke deep and curl her fingers forward, the way that she knows will drive Nicole wild. With their legs still scissored together, Waverly continues to ride against the firm column of Nicole’s thigh, all heat and slickness, the steady thrust and grind igniting them both. She knows the syllables that begin to cascade from her girlfriend’s mouth, that sort of rising ‘ah, ah’ which means ‘yes, go faster’ and Waverly complies, knowing it could be quick from here. Nicole is panting heavily now, they both are, and Nicole has lifted her head, her neck a glorious arch, offering the underside of her jaw to Waverly, who can only stare awestruck by the beauty of it. When Nicole comes, it’s with Waverly’s name as a shout from her lips, her entire body flushing as though limned with heat, rigid with ecstasy. Waverly comes right along with her, her thighs clamping down on Nicole’s leg, shuddering as the waves pass through her, undone once more.

For long moments neither woman seems willing to move, clinging to each other as the trembling drifts away from their limbs. Nicole has gathered Waverly’s head into her chest, arms wrapped around her shoulders, while Waverly has stretched out her legs to full length again, one hand brushing hair away from Nicole’s face. They slowly relax into the embrace and Nicole’s weight settles onto Waverly’s body. Nicole picks up her head. “Too heavy?” she asks.

“God, no. Don’t move yet,” Waverly responds, and Nicole doesn’t, letting Waverly pet her until they are filled with quiet contentment. Eventually they both begin to stir a bit more, and Nicole eases off and rolls away with a sigh. “I gotta get up,” she says, sitting.

“Why?” asks Waverly, her hand drifting the length of Nicole’s spine.

“Bathroom,” replies Nicole, who seems to chuckle at the ordinariness of it. “Gotta pee. Be right back.” She stands with a languid stretch, and makes her way out of the bedroom. Waverly’s eyes trail after. She’s not sure if Nicole is putting that extra-sexy sway in her hips just because she can, but she’s a little bit surprised at how much interest that sway awakens, even after all the hours of today.

When Nicole reappears, she’s washed her hands and face, brushed her hair, and appears a bit less rumpled. She is still naked but is holding a PSD sweatshirt that had been discarded hours earlier. She asks, “So? Do you want clothes, or pyjamas?”

“Nuh-uh,” growls Waverly, marveling at the huskiness of her own voice. “C’mere.” Nicole breaks into that brilliant smile of hers, dimple and all, and quite literally tosses the sweatshirt back over her shoulder as she moves to the bed. Leaning in, she pauses an inch from Waverly’s mouth, grinning and saying, “Okay,” and Waverly matches that wide infectious grin with one of her own before their mouths meet in a deep and satisfying kiss. Neither of them is anywhere close to sleep, and the day is not over.