It finally seemed as if the weather was realizing summertime was near. The sun was out, shining down on the park area of the Overwatch University grounds, a place which had been secluded for most of the cooler winter months. In the newfound heat, it had let life back into the students who would, just a week earlier, barely have bothered giving the park a glance as they rushed between classes. Now scores of students milled out onto the grass with their textbooks out, ready to study in the sunlight.
A ball of paper hit Angela on the side of the head.
“You’re daydreaming again.” The tosser was a youth a few years her junior. He was fit but wide, with dark, shaggy hair and amber-colored eyes framed by black glasses.
“Can you blame me? I have to sit here waiting for you to finish up. It gets boring.” Angela picked up the paper and tossed it back at Winston. It bounced off his bicep.
“Ouch!” Winston grinned. “Guessing you don’t need my help with that Bioengineering paper then. Finished with it already?”
She made a face at him. “You know I’m not. I just have a lot of stuff on my mind.”
“Private and disturbing stuff,” she bit him off, but she smiled when she said it. “It’s nothing serious. Just end of semester jitters, I suppose.”
Winston closed his laptop and leaned in over the table. “You know, it would do you some good to relax for once.”
Angela immediately frowned in suspicion. “You have your salesman voice on and I don’t like it.”
“I’ve heard rumors about a party down at a local bar. Rein’s?”
Angela rolled her eyes and sighed tiredly. “I don’t do parties, Winston, you know that.”
“I know, but this is a crazy party, we have to go! Lúcio dos Santos is going to play his newest set.”
Lúcio was somewhat of a local legend at the university. He was a music major, but he spent little time in class and more time organising various parties around the city. You would have a hard time finding a club not playing at least some of his music.
“I didn’t know you listened to Lúcio’s music?” Angela mused. Winston’s cheeks turned pink.
“I love it. Listen to it all the time. I know all his stuff, like… Ribbity and… Sonic Amplifier . Wallrider .” Winston fidgeted through the very obvious lie.
“It’s cute to see you try. Come on, tell me. Why do you really want to go?”
Winston looked as if he was about to continue denying an ulterior motive, but then he sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. “Remember Athena? The girl from my Computer Science class? She really likes his music, and she mentioned earlier today she would be going. She even gave me the address, look.” He excitedly presented a piece of paper with a scribble that could maybe be interpreted as words.
“I’m not stopping you from going. I just don’t see myself as much of a party girl. I’ll just spend tonight at the library again.”
“That is the saddest thing I’ve heard this week,” Winston said with fake sincerity. “Come on, Z. Can’t we let loose and act like crazy kids for once? That’s what university is all about.”
Angela thought back to when she’d just started the university. Even then she had been hesitant about parties, and would properly never had gathered up the courage to actually go to one if Jack hadn’t been there to drag her along.
Thinking of him made her lower her gaze and bite her lip.
“You might be a crazy kid, but I’m not, Winston. Really, I’m fine where I am. I don’t want to hold you back.”
“You’re not holding me back. Your help has saved my ass on several tests.” It was a lie. Winston was a few years younger than her, but he was scarily clever and wisecracking to boot, two characteristics that didn't earn him many friends. During the first few weeks of the semester, she'd seen him study and eat alone for the most part, just as she had done when she'd begun her college career. It hadn’t taken long for them to bond over a shared interest in excessive note taking.
“Besides,” he said, “we’re a team. Ain’t gonna leave you hanging while I have fun.”
She smiled, but she was well aware it didn’t reach her eyes. “You are a huge dork.”
“Love you too.” He blew a theatrical kiss at her, as he stood. “I’m gonna go get something cold to drink, this heat is killing me. Want anything?”
“A water would be nice, thanks.”
With a nod, he pocketed his hands and began making his way towards the cantina. Taking advantage of the few minutes she had to herself, Angela resumed her people-watching. There were a few exchange students sitting on a bench a few yards over, chatting over something in a language Angela didn’t understand. Three guys had claimed a large patch of the grass to throw a frisbee to one another, hooting and laughing as one of them slipped when he dived for it.
It was during times like this when she could almost forget that she was an outsider. Though she was the same age as most of her fellow students, she always felt she was here under false pretences. The youths currently sprawling in the grass were one step into their education, ready to take on the world. Her on the other hand… She had finished her PHD when she was 19, almost four years ago.
She never told anyone, which only meant that people found out themselves, which was in some ways worse. The first few days in her bioengineering class had been blissful. People had treated her no different than if she was any other student, chatting and joking with her between lectures. Then, at some point, the truth had gotten out. When she entered a lecture hall now, people always stared at her. Some in fascination, some in awe, and others in angry jealousy. Since then she had kept her head down and avoided most people. Winston was the only one who treated her like a normal person. He, too, had gotten into university much earlier than his peers, and was on the final end of his first degree, having not even turned 19 yet.
A unique pair they were… Unhappy geniuses. Prodigies with potential that felt as heavy as a truck.
“Excuse me?” A voice interrupted Angela’s daydreaming, and she turned.
A woman was standing next to her and Winston’s table. She was tall with light brown skin and perfect black hair that fell to just past her shoulders. She wore a tight fitting leather outfit, similar to those worn by motorcyclists. She was wearing a pair of sunglasses that hid most of her eyes, but Angela was still able to see the black lines of a tattoo, half-way hidden behind dark-tinted glass.
It took Angela a moment to realise she was staring, and another to notice how her mouth had fallen open. She closed it, her teeth clacking together loudly.
“Sorry, I- Sorry.” She sounded as if the she had been caught stealing apples from a neighbour’s backyard.
“Is this a bad time, or..?” Her voice was deep, confident. It bore the faintest hint of an accent.
“Not at all, I’m just a bit distracted.” She hoped it sounded relaxed, but based on the woman’s smirk she doubted it.
“Alright… I was just wondering if you could help me. I am looking for someone. Lúcio dos Santos? He said to met him here, but either he’s a no show, or my detective skills are just not up to par.”
Angela laughed nervously. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. Haven’t seen him near here.”
“Yeah, he is usually not very hard to spot.” She turned, looking out over the park area. When she turned again, she’d taken off the sunglasses, revealing the elegant Eye of Horus tattoo which had been previously obscured.
“What, uhh… What do you need him for?” Angela tried to ignore that she was suddenly sweating, and it wasn’t just because of the sun.
“He’s having a party tonight. I’m supposed to give him a lift and help him set up before the masses arrive.” She gave Angela a look, smiling crookedly. “Why are you asking?”
“I’m just a little curious, is all.”
“Really?” The look trailed away from her face for a moment, and Angela felt her breathing quicken slightly. “I am as well, just as it happens. Can I ask your name?”
“Angela…I like it.” She said the name as if she was tasting it. Angela felt a weird shiver run down her spine. The woman reached out her hand. “You can call me Pharah.”
Angela shook it, ignoring how clammy her hands felt. “Pharah? That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s a nickname. The name given to me at birth is weirder, trust me.” Her smile was genuine and intoxicating. “Anyway, Angela , I don’t know how much Lúcio has been advertising the party tonight, but it’s open for all OU students. Interested?”
“I have to study.” She gestured at one of the many books lying open on the table.
“Shame. I was looking forward to having someone to talk to who wasn’t a complete jock. I like Lúcio, but he attracts the worst crowds.”
Pharah shrugged. “Kinda have to. For moral support, mostly. I’m not much for parties that are so loud you can barely hear yourself think.”
“I see…” Angela cleared her throat again. “Maybe I will go. It’s been a while since I’ve been to a party. Who knows, it might do me good.”
“Glad to hear it. I’ll look for you there.” Pharah raised a hand in a casual wave, as she turned and walked away from the table. She was only a few yards away before she passed Winston, who didn’t even try to hide his look of confusion as he approached the table, holding two bottles of water.
“Who was that?” he asked as he sat down. He frowned when he saw Angela’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You’re weirdly red in the face.”
“Do you have to comment on everything?” Angela snarled and snatched up one of the bottles. The cold water might help slow down her heart rate.
Winston looked confused for a moment, then he raised his eyebrows in comedic expression of surprise. He looked quickly from Angela to Pharah, who had stopped to talk to a couple on a bench. He was grinning like the evil mastermind he was. “Oh, I see how it is.”
“You don’t see jack shit.”
Winston grinned stupidly. “Of course not, of course. I won’t comment. Not on a thing. Not even on the feeling of… What is it… eyefucking, that is hanging in the air.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No, no, of course you don’t. And, as I said, I will not comment on it any further. Especially not on the googly eyes you were just shooting at the biker chick over there.”
Angela nearly choked on her water. “Stop doing that!”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m just relaying information as it was presented to me.”
“You are being an asshole.”
“An observant asshole. Some would say that makes me worse.”
“I would very much agree. Now please, shut up about it.”
“I will.” Winston’s smile turned wolfish. “If you come to the party with me tonight.”
She made a face at him. “Blackmail? Wow, new low.”
“Come on, Z. I don't want to go alone. I've been here for over a semester and do you know how many parties I've been to?” He joined his thumb and forefinger together to signify zero. “Biker chick might be there.”
“Her name is Pharah.” Angela winced as she knew she had shared too much.
“Alright,” Winston grinned. “ Pharah might be there. And who knows, maybe you will actually have a fun Friday night for once.”
Angela stopped herself from beginning a rant of how a night spent reading about the different living conditions of bacterial microorganisms could also be considered fun. She glanced over at Pharah who was still talking to the seated couple. One of them was pointing in the direction of the main hall, and Pharah nodded a thanks and walked away. But not before casting a single look back at Angela’s table.
Their eyes locked. Pharah’s smile was amused and she raised her hand in an acknowledging gesture. Angela’s felt her face turn red again.
Winston paused. “Fine what?”
“Fine, I’ll come to the party. But if I’m not having fun I’ll leave. Go back to my books.”
His face was cracked in a big grin. “You’ll really go?”
“Yes, I’ll go.” She glanced over at where Pharah had been a moment before.
Who knows? Maybe she’d even have fun.
She was not having fun.
The bar was cramped, loud, and much too hot for Angela's liking. She'd barely taken a step inside before she began feeling crushed by the dancing and jumping bodies moving to the beat of the music. She'd found Winston quickly, standing at the back of the room, holding a drink which she was able to confirm was nonalcoholic. He'd been talking to a pretty girl with brown bangs and glasses. Athena, she'd learned later.
She couldn't recall it ever taking that little time becoming the third wheel as it did with Winston and Athena. She'd barely introduced herself before the pair had turned from her and resumed a rather in depth discussion about the potential value found in open market APIs. Angela had walked off soon after that.
However, she didn’t want to leave. It felt weird to show up, only to leave less than half an hour later. That’s what she told herself, anyway, because it definitely wasn’t because she was scanning the crowd, trying to glimpse the black haired girl she'd met earlier that day.
When the music became too deafening, Angela went to the back of the bar, placed far enough away to dull the thumping in her head. She was able to claim a small piece of the counter for herself. Ordering a vodka and coke, she sat in silence while watching the other college students around her go insane over the music. Looking at them, it quickly became very obvious that she was overdressed. She had considered wearing a simple t-shirt and sneakers, but it had been so long since she'd been to a party and she felt like dressing up. She wore a tight, short dress and black pumps, both relics of when she had first started dating Jack, and both very expensive. She also knew that she looked good in the outfit, the black fabric contrasting her light skin and blonde hair.
Might as well look good when you went out , she thought, ignoring the Pharah-sonar pinging away in her head.
Angela was halfway through her second drink when a figure moved up next to her. In the dark it was hard to make out the details of their face, but Angela recognized Pharah in an instant. That teasing grin was hard to forget.
“Hi there!” Pharah had to speak loudly to overpower the music. “I’m glad you could make it. Was worried I’d lost you to a pile of homework.”
“Winston convinced me to come,” Angela said. It wasn’t a complete lie.
“I will have to thank him when I meet him. He’s helped make the view here a lot better.” Pharah traced a long look over Angela’s body. “You are looking way too good for this place.”
“I don’t go out a lot.” It didn’t really explain anything, but Angela had a hard time coming up with clever lines when Pharah was looking at her like that. Lowered lids and half-open mouth.
“A shame. A dress like that should be shown off, if you ask me.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Pharah’s response was a loaded smile and a dark look. Angela’s throat suddenly felt very dry, and she quickly emptied her drink. The sudden rush of alcohol made her feel woozy.
“So how long have you known Lúcio? He seems like an interesting friend.”
“That he is, yes. We’re going on about… two years I think? I’ve known him since he started uni here.”
“What about you? Do you study there too?”
Pharah shook her head. “School and I never got along. It’s odd jobs for me, mostly. I help out here, with the bar, when I can, and I have steady work with a local mechanic. It can be tough, but it pays the bills. What about you?”
Angela looked into her empty glass. She always dreaded these sorts of questions. “Bioengineering. Graduate.”
Pharah raised her brows in surprise. She took a swig from a beer bottle that had mysteriously appeared in her hand. “Wouldn’t have been my first guess. You seem more med school to me. You have a guardian angel vibe going for you.”
Angela laughed at that. Pharah frowned.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No, it’s not that. You’re just not the first to say it, is all. Maybe in an alternate reality it would be true.”
Pharah nodded. Her dark brown eyes were studying Angela’s face with a strange intensity. “So you met Winston in school? How long has that been going on?”
Angela was confused over the question for a moment, before she understood what Pharah was asking. “Oh. No, we’re not... with each other, not like that. We’re friends and we study together, that’s all. He actually only came tonight because he is crushing on a girl and heard she would be here.”
Angela purposefully ignored the irony in what she’d just said.
“I can understand that.” Pharah voice sounded strange suddenly. “Makes more sense that he would leave you here alone then, looking like that.”
“You said it looked good.”
“It does. Very good, in fact. If you hadn't noticed, at least half a dozen guys have stopped to stare at you just while I've been standing here.” Pharah looked at Angela, the teasing smirk returning to her face. “Some girls too.”
Angela's face immediately turned red and she thanked whatever God had designed club parties to be dimly lit. She had never been in a serious relationship with anyone other than Jack, and they had been friends for years before anything happened. Before him there had been the occasional kiss at a party somewhere, but it had never been anything serious. She knew she found women attractive, but she had never acted on any attraction she might have felt, beyond maybe a kiss after one too many drinks.
The heat in the bar suddenly felt heavy.
“Really? I… I hadn't noticed.”
Pharah emptied her beer. She looked back at Angela, her eyes narrowed as she studied her features in the dark. “You are a hard read, Angela. I don’t know what to make of you.”
“Maybe you could ask me, and I could just tell you.” Her voice sounded small, but it seemed Pharah heard her anyway.
“Alright. I’ll ask then.” She straightened, standing slightly taller than Angela, even when she cocked her head inquisitively. “Do you find me attractive?”
Now her face was definitely red. Her grip around the near-empty glass tightened, and she looked away. “That’s a very direct question.”
“I ask because I want to know if the feeling is mutual.” They were very close to one another now. They weren't touching, but Angela could feel the heat coming off her body, and she felt tempted to lean in and touch the bare skin on her arms. Pharah was wearing a simple black tank top. A leather jacket was tied around her waist.
Pharah leaned in even closer, her mouth next to Angela’s ear. “I am asking because I feel like leaving this party, with you, right now.”
Angela’s breathing was heavy. “Where would we go?”
“My place. It’s close by, the ride over will be short. We’d be alone. Just the two of us.”
Angela wasn't sure how to describe the feeling rushing through her. Shock, definitely. Fear was also prominent. She felt like slamming her glass down on the counter, and then run until she'd gotten back home, could crawl under her covers and never go to another party like this again.
She slowly raised her glass, regretting that she’d already emptied it. A few drops remained and she drank them, the vodka a warm rush through her body. It seemed to kick her flight response back for a moment.
“What would we do when we got to your place?” Angela couldn't look at Pharah. She could barely comprehend that she was even speaking this way. This candidly.
“First thing, I'd get you out of that dress. The shoes too, you kick them off as I guide you through the apartment to my bed.” Pharah leaned in at this moment, putting her hands on Angela's waist. “I would push you down on it, lay on top of you. And I'd kiss you here” Pharah’s fingers hovered over Angela's lips “here,” her neck, “and here,” her breasts. “Then I'd fuck you. I'd crawl between your legs and enjoy the taste of your come. I'd fuck you until I'd make you forget how to speak any other sound than my name.” Her body was firm against Angela’s, her grip tight with desire. “That's what I'd do. So I ask you again; do you find me as attractive, as I do you?”
Angela blinked once. Twice. Letting a long moment pass between them in silence. The loudness of the music had faded, as Angela was completely engrossed by Pharah’s smoldering eyes.
“Can we leave now, or should we wait a while?”
The cab ride to Pharah’s apartment was short, but tense. Angela had seated herself a fair distance away on the backseat to avoid any more of Pharah’s intimate touching. She didn't feel like giving some random cab driver a show. Still, she was hyper conscious of Pharah’s long looks and the dark promise they held.
When they finally arrived, they were standing by a small building that looked like it had once been an auto shop, but the exterior was clean and newly painted. Pharah unlocked the door, inviting Angela into what looked to be a workshop and garage that had been reworked into a studio. The walls were solid concrete, lending a rough and industrial feel to the place. There was sparse color, the only thing really standing out was a beautiful blue motorcycle parked inside the garage part of the apartment.
“Nice place. How long have you-” She was interrupted by lips clashing into hers and strong arms pushing her against the wall next to the door. Angela couldn't help herself. She moaned into the kiss as Pharah’s teeth stung against her lips, and her hands began exploring Angela's body with a fervent energy she hadn't felt since… ever.
Desperately, she pulled at Pharah’s jacket until it fell in a heap on the floor. Just as fast, Pharah’s hands found the zipper to the dress and with a single movement the black fabric was bundled around Angela's feet. Pharah paused, and for a moment the panic rose back into Angela's chest as Pharah’s gaze wandered over her skin and underwear. There wasn't time for it to set in before Pharah was on her again, body pressed against Angela and her mouth hungrily finding her neck.
“Fuck, Angela.” Hearing her name spoken with such desire made a small whine escape Angela's mouth. “That dress doesn't do you justice. Fuck me, just look at you.”
Angela grabbed Pharah’s shoulders and guided her back to her lips. She couldn't get enough. The taste of burning liquor still on her tongue was turning her knees into jelly. Or maybe it was Pharah’s exploring hands that did that, as she slid one down to cup at her right breast. She squeezed and Angela moaned into Pharah’s mouth. It had been months since anyone other than herself had touched her like that.
They clumsily made their way through the studio, both kicking off their shoes as they went. Pharah’s top and jeans went too, falling as they both knocked into walls and furniture before falling onto Pharah’s bed. Angela was sprawled beneath her, their bodies pressed tightly together. Just as she'd said.
“Are you wet for me?” Pharah’s fingers slipped into the inside of Angela's underwear. She smiled wolfishly, and Angela was suddenly extremely conscious of how soaked she actually was. She stiffened, as Pharah’s finger slowly moved down her length. When Angela continued to be stiff to her touch, Pharah frowned, pausing. The teasing look in her eyes was gone.
“What is it? What's wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.. I just… I haven't ever…” Angela felt herself blush again and this time there was no dim club light to hide it. “I've never actually been with a woman before.”
Pharah’s look of stunned surprise would have been amusing in any other situation. She was frozen on top of Angela, her features stiffened in an awkward position.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, I don't. Really, I just...” Embarrassed, like a scolded child, she covered her face with her hands. “I'm sorry, I'm just not used to it feeling like this.”
Pharah didn't say anything for a long moment. She was still on top of Angela, naked except for set of black underwear. Angela felt a tuck at her hands, as Pharah pulled them away from her face.
“I'll go slow, okay? If you don't like it, tell me and I'll stop.”
Angela looked up at Pharah. Her dark eyes were serious, but there was a desire there that had not gone away since they first started talking at the bar. Angela realised she was holding her breath.
“Okay,” she nodded, her voice barely a squeak.
Pharah bent down and kissed her then, deep and long. Their tongues intertwining, Pharah’s hands exploring Angela's body tentatively. After a minute of this, her hands went behind Angela's back, undoing her bra with an flick of her fingers. When she removed it she stared. Angela knew that her breasts sometimes had an… effect on people, and seeing that Pharah wasn't immune to this caused a stir in her thighs.
“Fucking god.” Pharah seemed to say this to herself. She bowed her head, peppering kisses along Angela's jawline, down her neck and collarbone, before coming to her chest. Her warm mouth found a nipple and her teeth bit softly into the sensitive skin around it. Angela had never experienced it like this, soft and sharp at the same time. She let out a series of sharp gasps.
“Oh, yes! Don’t stop.”
She didn't know what she needed, exactly. Normally, she could describe where she wanted her partner to go next, but she felt strangely disconnected from herself. She just knew that her body was crying out for something Pharah’s deft tongue was building to as it swirled around the sensitive areas on her breasts. Angela let one hand curl into Pharah’s black hair, the other went to her own mouth. She had never been very vocal during sex, but Pharah’s expert exploration of her body combined with her lack of sexual activity for the past year meant her moans were loud and frequent. Biting down on a knuckle, she tried to stay quiet as Pharah began moving further down her body. The set of lacy underwear Angela had worn was removed and tossed on the floor, as Pharah repeated the motions she had just introduced Angela to. Soft kisses, trailing skin from her knee up the thigh, hovering around her clit before moving away again. She kept doing this until Angela's legs were shivering whenever Pharah’s mouth got too close to her center.
“Shall I continue?” Her eyes were watching like a tiger’s.
“Yes!” Angela's outburst was out of her control. Her hand fell away from her face to instead clutch at the bedsheets. “Yes, God. Yes…”
The last yes fell into a low whimper, as Pharah chose that moment to run her tongue up Angela's folds, ending with a slight, rotating pressure on her clit. The touch was so light, Angela couldn't stand it, and she thrusted her hips forward, pressing herself against Pharah’s teasing tongue. As Angela's movements began to find a rhythm, as did Pharah’s, matching each of her thrusts by sucking gently on her clit. It was a building mountain of pleasure Angela wasn't ready for. Her moans became whines as she tried to keep them quiet out of habit. Whenever she pushed herself against Pharah, whose tongue was flicking and pressing around her clit, taking the pressure on and off, the sounds became harder to control.
She couldn't speak. She didn't want to speak. She wanted release from this building ecstasy.
Angela was moving faster now, and Pharah had to grab hold of her hips to help control the movement. She looked up at Angela, eyes hungry and attentive, before letting her front teeth nip into the skin around her center.
Angela's felt the moan rise from all the way down in her abdomen, escaping her mouth in a shudder that trembled through her entire body. Pharah’s name was in there, but it was impossible to make it out as anything else than an outburst of release. Her back arched against the mattress, her skin shivered, as Pharah gently guided her through the orgasm.
It felt like hours passed before Angela collapsed back down in the sheets, sweating and panting as if she'd just run a marathon. Her eyes were closed, so she felt rather than saw Pharah climb up next to her.
“You okay? It wasn't too much?”
Angela opened her eyes. Pharah was lying on her stomach next to her. She had dried her face of Angela's come, but the scent of it was still present in the air.
Without thinking, Angela grabbed her and pulled Pharah into a kiss. It was short, as Angela was still out of breath, but it seemed to have an effect. Her heavy breathing was matched by Pharah’s own.
“I can go clean up,” Pharah managed to utter between kisses. If she was trying to hide the desire in her voice, she did a bad job at it.
Angela rolled over on top of her, a reversal of their positions before. She kissed Pharah’s mouth, her jaw, sucked on her lips. She tasted herself on the woman's skin and she felt a pulsating feeling between her legs. She liked this.
“What do you want me to do?” Angela looked down at Pharah. She was still wearing her underwear, and Angela suddenly had to fight an overwhelming urge to rip them off.
“You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”
She surged downward, bringing Pharah into a long, hot kiss. Now Pharah was the one moaning, and Angela felt how Pharah parted her legs slightly in response to the kiss.
“I want to. Please, I really, really want to.”
Pharah smiled at her, showing teeth in a teasing grin.
“You're tenacious, has anyone ever told you that? Have you ever done anything like this before?”
Angela flushed. “No. I mean… Just with guys.” Guy , she thought.
“It’s a bit different than that.” Pharah pushed a loose strand of Angela's hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to reciprocate. Some girls realize that’s not what they want.”
“Well, I'm not some girl.” Angela hoisted herself up, so she was raised on all fours over Pharah’s body. She presented a cocked smile, very aware that Pharah was openly staring at her naked body.
“I'll go slow too,” she teased. She let her hands slip down from Pharah’s shoulders, down over her chest and breasts, all the way to the lining of her underwear. It was a way for her to touch and feel the woman beneath her, and was as much for her own benefit as it was for Pharah’s. The warmth of her skin, the scent of her and the quiet gasp as Angela's gentle fingers touched a sensitive area on her hip bone.
Remembering what Pharah had done, Angela bent down and kissed her deeply. Pharah raised her arms to embrace her and pull them closer together, but Angela stopped her, pushing her arms back down on the bed, effectively pinning her down.
“Oh, it's like that, is it?” Pharah’s voice was strangely hoarse. Angela looked at her, worried she might have upset her, but Pharah’s eyes were lit with want and desire.
“Is it alright?” Angela asked.
Pharah didn't answer, she just nodded. Angela moved her mouth further down her torso, being conscious of the response her kisses had whenever she placed a new one. As she began to approach the area between her breasts, slipping down to her navel and stomach, Pharah’s breathing was ragged.
“You're killing me here, Angela.”
“Should I stop?”
Pharah laughed. A short huff of a chuckle that sent strange vibrations through Angela's body. “Keep going. Just keep going like that.”
Comfortable with knowing she was on the right track, Angela crawled off Pharah until she was in the same position Pharah had been in before. Hesitantly, she pulled Pharah’s underwear off, revealing glistening wetness between Pharah’s legs.
Seeing Pharah’s folds wet from desire and hearing her heavy breathing was enough to make Angela lose focus for a moment. She had never done anything like this before and had no idea how to proceed, really. But she was surprised. She had expected to feel some trepidation or nervousness in this moment. After all, she had never actually been on this particular side of the arrangement, so she'd expected it. Instead, she just felt excitement.
Slowly, like Pharah had done before, Angela began placing kisses along the top of Pharah’s mound, softly going all the way down the length of her, never placing pressure. When she reached the end, she opened her mouth and got the first tangy taste of Pharah’s juices and she ran her tongue up the inside of her, all the way to the little bead at the top.
As she did, Pharah let out a cry of pleasure, her hands seeking down her body towards Angela. Without thinking, Angela reached up and grabbed them, using them to steady both herself and Pharah as she began circling the small bead that seemed to give such a vocal reaction. Her tongue was clumsy, but responsive, following Pharah as she cried out instructions of “ slower ,” “ harder ,” and the surprisingly frequent “ yes, just like that .”
It only took a few minutes before Pharah’s cries took on a more rhythmic tone. She grasped hard at her hands, as the muscles in her thighs began to tense up.
“Don't stop! Oh, God, yes Angela! Oh! Oh God!” Rapid exclamations of pleasure as Pharah’s back began arching against the sheets. Angela obeyed the command, sucking and pressing her tongue against Pharah’s clit, matching the quickening rhythm of her moans.
“Yes! Oh! God! I'm… coming. I'm coming!”
The release hit them both like a wave, Pharah’s come hitting Angela's tongue as she eased the pressure off Pharah’s clit. The woman breathed heavily as her legs shivered in response to the fading orgasm, and Angela's felt an intense wetness between her own legs.
“Holy shit…” Pharah moaned out the words, following them with a short, out of breath chuckle. “Fuck, Angela.”
“That wasn't too much?” she teased with a grin. Pharah was on her in an instant, pulling her into the bed and kissing her. Her mouth were still wet from Pharah’s juices, but Pharah didn't care at all.
“Oh, I'll show you too much,” she growled as she rolled over on top of Angela again. “I'm far from done with you.”
Angela wasn’t sure how long they kept going. It could have been days for all she knew, or cared. Time didn’t exist in Pharah’s bed. There was only the two of them and the touches they shared.
In the end, Angela had to put a stop to it. After Pharah’s insatiable appetite had gotten Angela through her sixth orgasm, she felt as if she was going to pass out if they continued much longer. Her body was sore and spent, and she couldn’t help but be impressed at Pharah’s stamina. It was like she was trained for this.
She wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point she fell asleep. When she woke up, she was curled up into a ball, like she usually slept. The only difference was that she had one arm casually slung over Pharah, the other pressed against the woman’s side. Pharah was asleep on her stomach, face turned towards Angela. She looked so calm that Angela felt tempted to close her eyes and let sleep take her again. She never wanted to leave this room, even if the smell of sex still hung heavy in the air. What time was it?
It was then there was a familiar buzz. The sound of a vibrating cell phone hidden beneath layers of clothing. Groggily, Angela began to sit up to locate the sound, when Pharah groaned in displeasure as she moved away.
“Stay in bed.” Her pull on Angela’s arm wasn’t strong at all, but it was enough to make Angela slump down onto the mattress again. Pharah nuzzled into her, curling herself around Angela’s naked body in a relaxed embrace. Her eyes were still closed and her breathing carried the calm, deep rhythm of sleep.
Angela didn’t share in this calmness. Since they had met at the bar, she had been driven by forces she couldn’t control. First alcohol, then desire, then exhaustion, and it wasn’t until now when she wasn’t under the influence of any of those things that she had taken a moment to pause and think.
She had sex with someone she barely knew. A woman she barely knew. She had never had a one night stand, or any kind of stand really, if you didn’t count her relationship with Jack. And they had known each other for years before they started dating, and even then it had taken weeks before they first had sex. This woman… she didn’t know a thing about her. Until yesterday, she had known she found women attractive, but she had never acted on it. She hadn’t felt the need to, be they female or not. Her studies and school had come first, and it didn’t help that whenever she considered dating again it felt like an icepick had been driven into her chest. It hadn’t felt that way with Pharah.
The phone buzzed again, and this time she managed to untangle herself from a disgruntled Pharah. She realized she was still naked and instinctively covered her chest with the bedsheet as she looked around the room for her purse.
When she did find it, tucked in her purse beneath a pile of their discarded clothing, she found eight texts from Winston asking where the hell she was.
“Oh shit…” She’d totally ditched him at the party. Hopefully he wasn’t mad.
She wrote a quick text, saying she was fine. She just had a bit too much and had crashed at a friend’s house. Which technically wasn’t a lie, but she did get a bit of a bitter taste in her mouth when she sent it.
“What’s gotten you making that face?”
Behind her, Pharah was stretching on the bed. She was still naked and only half-covered by the bedsheet. Angela suspected the movement wasn’t meant to be sexual, but the redness quickly flushing into her face told her that Angela’s body might disagree. She turned away, as Pharah reached over and grabbed some clothing from a nearby chair.
“Just some texts. Worried friends and such. I didn’t tell them where I went last night.”
Pharah chuckled. “I see. That face tells me you’d want to keep it a secret then.”
Angela frowned. “What do you mean?”
Pharah had pulled on her clothes, though her droopy eyes and messy bed hair still made her look half-asleep. She yawned, as if to confirm the thought. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. It’s not the first time I’ve woken up next to someone who suddenly remembers they don’t really like girls. College and experimentation, and all that.”
Angela stared at her, completely stunned. She legitimately couldn’t tell if Pharah was messing with her or not. The nonchalant way she’d said it made it seem like this happened so often it was becoming a regular nuisance.
Angela stood, clumsy with sheet still around her. She scanned the room for her clothes. Where the hell was her dress?
“Here. You can wear this.” Pharah tossed her a flannel and a pair of faded jeans, and a nasty little voice in Angela’s mind wondered if this was Pharah’s or something left behind by one of those experimenting girls she’d brought home.
“No problem. Coffee?” Pharah had strolled out of the bedroom section of the studio, moving into a small kitchen. She was still acting eerily cool about the whole thing and, quite frankly, it was beginning to annoy Angela.
“Did I do something wrong?” Angela asked as she followed Pharah into the kitchen after she put on the clothes. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Acting like what?”
“Weird. And a little rude. You’re acting as if last night was just another party. As if we didn’t-” Angela stopped and blushed.
Pharah grinned, pouring water for coffee. “That’s why. That right there. It’s happened a few times too many for me. People wake up after a night of dancing and drunk from cheap beer, and suddenly realise that they need to hurry on home to their boyfriend.” She handed a cup to Angela. Her face displayed confidence, but Angela thought she saw cracks in it as Pharah turned away.
“I don’t think that’s fair,” she said, placing the coffee down on the counter.
Pharah shrugged. “You can’t force someone to be something they don’t want to be.”
“That’s not what I mean. I don’t think it’s fair for you to just assume you know how I feel about all this.”
The clinking of the stirring spoon in Pharah’s cup ceased as she looked up at Angela. Now she was the one frowning. Angela fidgeted awkwardly under her gaze.
“Last night was not nothing. I don’t know what it was exactly, but it wasn’t nothing. And I don’t like it getting treated like it was.”
Slowly, Pharah placed her cup down on a nearby counter. Her eyes were thoughtful as she looked Angela over. “You said it was your first time.”
Angela hugged herself and looked down. “It was. With a woman, I mean. I’m not a nun.”
Pharah chuckled, and the sound brought back memory of hoarse laughter and moans. Angela bit her lip.
“Right… No, you mentioned,” Pharah said.
Silence stretched between the two of them. Pharah was the first to break it. “I’m sorry, Angela, I thought... I just thought it was a one night thing.”
If it was a question, Angela didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t want to confirm that it had just been a one night thing, but she didn’t want to deny it either. It was a strange line she was toing, because on one hand she wanted to walk out of the studio and never come back. On the other, she felt like closing the gap between the two of them and kiss Pharah deeply enough that she could suppress the strange feelings of hurt flowing through her brain. Pharah looked at her, frowning.
“Do you not want it to be?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. Besides, you already seem pretty adamant about what this was to you.” Her voice was sharp, and she knew it. She didn’t care.
Pharah bit her lip. “I just assumed when you looked so weird before that it was because you were regretting what happened last night.”
“I don’t regret it.” Angela was a little surprised at how much she meant it.
“I see.” Pharah nodded. Her demeanor had stiffened away from the relaxed confidence she’d displayed moments ago. “For the record, I’m really sorry if what I said hurt you. That was unfair of me. It’s just, when enough girls wake up feeling like they made a mistake, like I was a mistake… It’s easier to ready yourself for the blow, I guess. It’s easier to just shut off from the beginning.”
Angela’s look of empathy was sincere. “I can’t imagine how that would feel. Must be awful.”
Pharah grimaced. It took a while before she said anything else. “Look, I’ll be honest, I suck at this stuff. I don’t do the whole sharing thing very well. Last night was… great. Really great. You were eerily good, considering it was your first time.” Angela blushed again, as Pharah continued undeterred. “Don’t take my stupidity as a wish to keep what happened last night in the past. I can’t remember the last time anyone made me feel like you did. How did you just know what to do like that?”
Angela’s face was full on crimson now. “I just… listened. And felt for it. Your pulse and breathing told me when I was on the right track.”
Pharah’s eyes studied her. “You are a mystery to me, Angela, I hope you realize this.”
“I’m beginning to understand that, yes.”
“But, anyway, if you’re interested, maybe we could exchange numbers? Repeat the success of yesterday some other time.”
“Repeat?” Angela squeaked. “As in… yes, I… That would be…” She stumbled through the words as if she was still drunk. She wasn’t ready to date, she had known this when Pharah’s embrace had become a little too familiar back in the bed. She had been brought back to a time she tried her best to keep at a distance, and she wasn’t ready to revitalize it just yet. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
“Then we are of same mind,” Pharah said. “I was thinking more of a… ‘friends with benefits’ sort of arrangement.”
“Friends with… Yes, that… That could work.” Flashes of fingers caressing her skin and a sharp taste of Pharah’s desire made a shiver creep over Angela’s body. “Do you have any other friends like me?”
“No.” Pharah’s voice was serious. Angela swallowed.
“I see. An interesting proposition then. I feel like it would be rude of me to say no to a new friend.”
Pharah smiled and sauntered closer to Angela. There were only a few inches between them now. “Is that a yes, then?”
Angela felt woozy looking up at Pharah’s hungry eyes, and for a moment she wondered if the alcohol was still present in her system. She nodded. “Yes.”
The kiss was slow and deliberate, pulling Angela into a meeting of lips and tongues. Once again, Angela was surprised at how she wasn’t taken aback by this at all. The only emotion that shined through was the overwhelming sense of want that suddenly flourished in her stomach, and she knew that if she didn’t break the kiss, they would end up right back in Pharah’s bed and they most likely wouldn’t leave it for the remainder of the day.
Hesitantly, she broke the kiss, her face flushed. “I have to go. I have studying to do, and I’m afraid that if we get started again, we won’t stop anytime soon.”
“It’s like you can read my mind.” Pharah’s voice was the embodiment of tease. Angela’s knees felt weak.
“I’m gonna go.” Angela backed away from the woman and went to pick up her remaining, scattered possessions. It took her a surprisingly long time to find her discarded bra half hidden beneath the bed, and when she came back, Pharah was standing by the front door.
“Text me when you are done with your studying,” she said, putting her number into Angela’s phone.
“I’ll try.” Her voice was quivering ridiculously. She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you, then.”
Pharah grinned again and gave her one last kiss before opening the door and Angela could breathe cool air. She walked for at least five minutes down the street before she had gathered herself enough to call a cab. Her breathing was still uneven and she had to fight to not turn to look back at the blank entrance to Pharah’s studio.
What had she gotten herself into?