Emma Swan deep down knew she liked to fight with Regina Mills. Actually it wasn't so deep. There was something twisted and fun about the filthy expressions and derision she could pull out of the mayor. It was as if the brunette was deciding which specific piece of dirty laundry the sheriff reminded her of.
It was not that the blonde liked to be treated badly, it was just when Mayor Regina Mills did it, her insides clenched excitedly at the way the woman's eyes flashed and flicked to Emma's lips, her voice dropped to a sexy, low sneer and the blonde could well imagine being thrust against a wall for a good old-fashioned tongue lashing.
The thought of Regina's demanding hands, lips or tongue tortured her and many a night she had lain awake in her bed at Mary Margaret's place, fingering her clit, awash with arousal, and softly mouthing Regina's name. They were easily the most frustrating orgasms she had ever experienced. Wanting a thing so desperately that you'll even fight and bitch and chainsaw down trees just to get the attention of a woman who heaped shit on you - well Emma knew that was messed up. Nothing new there.
Last week Regina had actually likened her to a stagnant pond, festering with green mildew. That had been almost poetic. Emma had actually smiled at the thought of it, causing a wash of bafflement to transform the mayor's tight face. Just for a moment.
Yesterday she inferred Emma was a rancid piece of gum stuck to her heels, with gravel in it. The sheriff had merely glanced at those perfectly expensive, patented black shoes and snickered, "Your shoes should be so lucky."
Inside, her guts squeezed again, like a trap full of butterflies, while the mayor's eyebrow had shot up.
Emma very much enjoyed watching those shapely arches climbing towards the heavens, as they usually signified she had actually managed to surprise a woman who believed she was 10 steps ahead of everyone else. Especially 10 steps ahead of Emma Swan - the Boston blow-in she no doubt saw as just there to annoy the snot out of her. And/or steal Henry. In no particular order.
The sheriff loved the mayor's wardrobe most of all. The idea of sliding her hand under one of those uptight businesswoman outfits had occurred to her more than once. Grabbing a handful of that prim slate-grey dress that had greeted her the first time they met. The same dress Regina wore when she stomped over to see her under the apple tree, swinging her arms ferociously like an enraged orang-utan. Emma would enjoy wrenching it up and claiming the woman beneath it.
The sheriff licked her suddenly dry lips.
But it was the navy skirt suit that almost undid her one day when Emma discovered a slit up the back revealing a far greater expanse of smooth leg than usual. Her nipples had sprung to attention and it had taken all Emma's willpower not to reach up and soothe them back into submission. Worse had been when Regina had suddenly swung around to glance at her, and her eyes had slipped down to her chest and fixed for a second on the tight little knots straining against Emma's tight tanktop. A tiny smile had tugged at the edge of the mayor's lips before she turned again and strode off, clacking down the street on those high bitchy heels.
Emma had stood rooted to the spot and stared after her for a good five minutes, not entirely sure what she was meant to do with that response. Her brain had gotten tired weeks ago trying to process it.
The only thing Emma had not entirely decided upon was how the mayor viewed their little exchanges. She gave nothing away, beyond occasional derisive scowls or sneers. Emma would give anything to break through that smug expression and get a rise out of her - at least something beyond anger.
Emma looked at her watch. Oooh.
She supposed she should feel ashamed that she was going out of her way to pick fights with this woman. It had become the highlight of her day now. She spent a good measure of time just dreaming up reasons to visit Madame Mayor. Today's was a little less self-absorbed because even if it didn't result in a fight she'd win by getting in some Henry time. Emma grinned. She loved that kid.
She checked herself in the mirror at the office. It was a small grimy toilet mirror, above an old porcelain standalone basin, with rust stains under each of the taps. She could just make out the top of her white tank top, and there was no hope her jeans or boots would get a look-in in the tiny reflection. She checked her hair didn't look like a stray lyre bird had kicked the shit out of it to form a nest, and her expression was appropriately neutral.
She pushed her shoulders back. Showtime.
Sheriff Swan glared at the maddening woman opposite, throwing her hands up in the air. Her heart was racing. Regina's eyes were glittering and it was all Emma could do not to lean on the woman's desk for support.
"For god's sake Regina, it's only an hour. One hour."
"An hour Henry could be spending doing his homework, not ruining his appetite on ice cream and heaven's knows what else you would spoil him with. But you already knew I'd say no. So why are you really here Miss Swan?" the mayor asked with a suspicious glare, getting up from behind her wooden office desk, uncoiling herself like a snake about to strike.
Emma was more than a little peeved at the suspicion she was up to something. Probably because the damned woman had guessed correctly. Fortunately Regina didn't wait for a response.
"I am expecting a trade minister here any moment to discuss opening up some opportunities with Storybrooke's Chinese sister city."
"Storybrooke has a sister city? In CHINA?" Emma asked, a little derailed."
"Why of course. Do you think we exist in some kind of magical bubble?" Regina spat out.
"What on earth have WE got to trade?" Emma asked, truly baffled now. "Convent candles?"
Regina Mills narrowed her eyes and glared at her. "I should have guessed you of all people would devalue Storybrooke. I suppose you find it amusing to look down on us. Are you trying to get a rise out of me?" Regina leaned forward over her desk and glared at the sheriff, as if trying to divine whether her true motive was messing up some precious trade talks.
"Christ Regina, your paranoia is starting to gallop away with you. Maybe you should check the dose on your meds."
The mayor's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Childish insults now? Are you twelve? You will stop trying to rattle me - or whatever game it is you're up to - because I assure you, my dear, it won't work. Now - I have to prepare. Close the door on your way out. And remember, it's still 'no' to an ice cream with Henry."
Regina reached down to a document on her desk and made as if to prepare reading it. When there was no movement opposite her she glanced up.
Emma was staring with an intrigued look on her face.
"You thought I was trying to rattle you?" she asked failing to suppress her wonder. "Which means you believe I can?" She gave a pleased smirk and Regina sighed heavily, slapping the document back to her desk with an annoyed thud.
"REALLY, Miss Swan?" the mayor's eyes narrowed, as if suddenly understanding that challenging her blonde nemesis to anything was a bad idea.
"Sheriff Swan, I have asked you politely and now I will ask you bluntly - leave now."
Emma clicked her mind back, flicking past catalogued memories. She knew only twice she had ever seen the mayor rattled - the day she had arrived. And the day she had chainsawed her damned apple tree. Oh wait, and once more. She had been bending over to pick up something on the floor in the Sheriff's office and when she turned had seen the mayor transfixed at the door, just watching her ... ass. Then the brunette's mesmerized expression had disappeared abruptly and her mask slammed down.
The blonde smiled and Regina frowned suspiciously. "Sheriff..." she warned.
"I do believe you can be rattled, Regina," Emma leaned forward and whispered. The pulse at her neck was jumping. That elicited a further suspicious frown from the brunette.
Emma grinned broadly and deliberately held up her jangling car keys in front of the mayor and walked around until she was beside her chair, and dropped them to her feet. And then slowly, deliberately and sexily, bent over to find them, her ass wiggling directly beneath Regina's startled face.
She heard the mayor's bemused snort and then her own unpleasant grunt as she realized the keys had bounced under Regina's desk towards the wooden back. Well, so much for sexy.
Suddenly they could hear voices from the outer office. Regina's eyes went wide at the same time as Emma's. The sheriff quickly scurried forward on hands and knees and disappeared into the huge desk's cavity. Shit, it was dark. Where were they?
Regina began tapping her toe pointedly, "Come on," the brunette hissed in irritation, "I can't have you emerging from under my desk in front of the trade minister. It's completely unprofessional. Hurry up!"
But time had run out and, as Regina's secretary began to enter the room, Emma slid further back under the desk, hands frantically feeling about. Beneath the small crack of light along the floor between the rear panel of the desk which faced the door, Emma realized she could see two sets of women's shoes, one leaving, and the other pointing towards Regina. The trade delegate was female? Huh.
Emma debated her options and decided the keys could wait and began to back out when, to her astonishment, she felt her backside summarily shoved forward again by Regina's foot. She twisted to give an indignant protest when she saw the furious expression shot towards her from the corner of Regina's eye, quelling any protest and silently ordering her to be quiet.
Emma, now effectively balled up under the wooden desk heard muffled voices, one with a gentle Chinese accent, and Regina's low, sexy, firm tones. She winced as she felt something digging into her hip and realised she had just found her car keys. Great.
What the hell had she been thinking with that stunt? Regina had virtually rolled her eyes at her, and if the trade delegate hadn't had such lousy timing, the brunette probably would have laughed in her face. Clearly, Emma decided dismally, she had vastly over-estimated the appeal of her own rear.
Emma presumed she'd be under the desk until Regina immediately whisked the woman into her outer office or something, and tried to shift again to get comfortable for a short stay. But to her dismay Regina just sat down, as did the guest on the other side of the table.
If she twisted she could just make out black-soled small shoes with a very expensive tailored black pant hem on the trade delegate. She strained but could only just make out what they were saying. The other woman's name was Mulan something. Hey, Henry would love that. Another character for his book.
She shifted back, facing Regina's chair, which had moved forward giving her even less room than she had before. She realized she was now staring directly at Regina's thighs encased in her grey dress, shapely calves, and tight high-heeled shoes. Her feet were a little larger than she had realized and currently they were taking up more real estate than Emma found comfortable.
She wiggled and squirmed a few more times but kept bumping Regina's feet or muscled calves. At one point a clearly irritated Regina gave her a swift, albeit soft kick/nudge to stop her wriggling.
Easy for her. She wasn't trapped like a rat in a small cube of space.
Emma glanced around, bored as the droning continued above, wishing she could just move Regina's feet out of the way. As she stared at them she realized her shoes, black and fashionable heels, really were very tight, and a white line had formed where they pinched the skin. That had to hurt. Emma stared in sympathy.
She knew she could give a fairly decent foot rub, and the moment the thought entered her mind, the temptation began to call.
Dare she? And hell, hadn't the mayor virtually dared her to rattle her? Or not rattle her? Whatever.
Her finger crept closer, and she finally made contact, running a finger lightly all the way around the top of the shoe where flesh met leather. She heard a startled gasp from above which quickly turned into a cough. Emma smirked. Could not be rattled, hmm? She quickly divested the mayor of her left shoe, and slid it to one side.
Emma stared at the nyloned foot squirming in her hand. What had been intended for purely practical reasons, with a dose of strong sympathy for anyone who had to wear these unforgiving heels, suddenly seemed strangely intimate. She gave the foot a gentle rub and could see a slight redness on the side where the footwear had obviously been biting the hardworking mayor.
Well no harm in giving her a hand. Her past lovers had all commented on her gift for foot rubs. Gently and softly, she ran her thumb along the instep of the foot, pausing to give a deep rub and moving along. The foot stopped squirming instantly and seemed to almost melt into her hands. Ahh, so Regina really had been feeling those swanky shoes. Typical woman of today, Emma thought as she worked her magic over the foot, fashion over function.
Before long she had tenderly rubbed and caressed the foot, the sole and the arch, into a blissful state of submission, and its state of relaxation was a source of pride in the sheriff. She still had it.
She carefully placed the foot down as she wondered how long the meeting was going to go for. As she was thinking about it, a movement caught her eye and she realized the mayor was tapping quietly her other, still shoe-clad, foot.
Ah, a small plea from the mayor. Fair enough, the sheriff decided, and quickly slipped off the other shoe. The foot stopped wriggling immediately and yielded to her strong firm rubs. Little wonder the mayor had made the request, Emma thought. This foot was definitely sorer looking. With as much tenderness as she could manage given her confined space, she carefully returned blood flow to the damaged areas, until she could almost feel the wounded flesh sighing with relief. She smiled into the arch which was blissfully pink and perfect now, and without thinking, dropped a kiss on it.
She froze. Where had that come from? Fuck, had the mayor noticed? The conversation, muffled above, had droned on unabated. Maybe she hadn't?
It was just a slip - all her other foot rub-ees had been lovers so she hadn't thought for a moment...
The mayor shifted position slightly in her chair.
Emma glanced up and realized what lay before her. With one leg spread after the massage, and another in her hands, she was looking straight up the mayor's skirt. And it was a sight that made her swallow reflexively. She could not tear her eyes away. Had the mayor shifted to show her this view? Or didn't she realise? Emma stared.
The nylons Emma had assumed the mayor was wearing were actually garters and pantyhose. Who the hell wears garters in this day and age Emma wondered, only for a split second. Then the mayor shifted a little again and her legs were even slightly further apart. Could that really be an accident? Emma's stomach fluttered at the thought of an invitation as she was now at eyeball level with the mayor's crotch.
Black lace panties, cut high, very high, greeted her.
Emma's nostril's twitched. Whoa... She leaned slightly forward and realised she could smell arousal. Emma had had her fair share of women lovers over the years and the intoxicating scent was one of the things she loved most about those experiences. A woman so ready and just waiting to be taken, there was no other exotic perfume like it. She squinted and realized Regina's panties were darkest in the middle ... from moisture.
Emma swallowed hard. She had had many lovers tell her that her foot massages were better than foreplay. And here was Regina, Regina for god's sake, creaming her panties over Emma's probing thumbs and fingers.
Did Regina want her? The way Emma desired her?
Time to find out. She leaned forward and moved her head between the mayor's thighs and gently blew on her core.
The thighs slammed shut over her ears as a startled gasp above her could be heard. The clang of a glass hitting the table covered the sound of Emma's own startled grunt. Fuck. Ouch. Oh hell. Shame colored her cheeks red and if she hadn't been nose to lingerie-covered clit in the mayor's secret business and with no hope of escape she would probably have fled the room.
Mercifully the thighs slowly reopened to allow Emma to breathe and a hand shot down, gently pushing her face from between Regina's smooth upper thighs.
Emma eyed the intrusive hand and wondered at it when it did not immediately depart from Emma's face. In fact it ... lingered. Sliding slowly down her cheek, near her mouth.
Emma gently captured the fingers in her lips, sucking them in. The hand quickly retracted above the table.
Now the sheriff was officially getting mixed signals. She needed a verdict. She pushed apart Regina's knees, waiting for the next defense mechanism to kick in. When nothing happened, she slid her hands slowly along firm thighs, rubbing and massaging, in much the same way she had with Regina's feet. If the mayor was opposed, she would certainly let her know any moment.
Instead she saw the soft thighs start to quiver. The dark spot in her panties had grown larger. Holy hell. She was really arousing the mayor. She, Emma Swan, was making Regina Mills wet. Correction - wetter.
Emma leant forward again, blowing once more to confirm her presence. This time when the hand sneaked down, it tangled in her hair roughly, as if undecided whether to pull or caress, and ended up doing a bit of both.
The blonde tentatively reached out to the panties, and ran her thumb down the middle, feeling the soft warm flesh pulsating just under the thin fabric. The material, shockingly, was completely soaked, and Emma began to rub in earnest, delighting at the occasional smothered hip buck. She was making a nice indent in the sopping fabric and her own breathing was starting to sound heavy to her ears, even though she knew the sound wouldn't have been able to penetrate the heavy wood above her.
The firm hand in her hair now seemed to be pushing her forward, and Emma slid her fingers in and under the sides of elastic and trembled at the slippery, soft flesh she found.
Another gasp above, merged into a cough. Poor Minister Mulan must think Regina was suffering very poor health indeed, Emma smirked.
Maneuvering was difficult, so finally she lifted her hands to Regina's hips and attempted to pull the brief underwear down.
Regina resisted at first, and suddenly acquiesced leaning forward and up, under the guise of passing paperwork over to the other woman. Smooth.
Freed, the blonde pulled the panties all the way down to Regina's ankles and then off. She lifted them to her nose and inhaled deeply. They smelt just like the mayor but more so, evocative, erotic, dark, dirty, naughty. Emma pocketed them. She'd keep those ... for later. Her own wetness increased at the very idea of getting off on the mayor's panties.
Emma stared up between the mayor's now bared lower body. Regina's pussy was swollen, deep red, and releasing copious quantities of moisture from a dark matted swatch of black hair. It was the most erotic sight the sheriff had ever seen in her life.
She could not wait to taste her.
Pushing herself forward, she swiped her tongue along the mayor's entire secret length, and then began to feast. She carefully sucked only, knowing anything else could be too noisy. She wrapped her tongue around her peeking clit, and sucked it with her pulsating lips, swiping it with her tongue occasionally.
The mayor was emitting strange noises. Ending sentences with odd, abrupt, up inflections. And shifting in her chair as though it were piping hot. She thought she could hear the Chinese woman ask if the mayor was feeling unwell.
Emma laughed silently into Regina's dark center and prodded her entrance with her tongue to give her something to think about as she answered.
Regina Mills groaned. And then Emma caught the words throbbing migraine and something about needing a break. Emma kissed her clit for such cleverness - the woman was a talented liar. Worth knowing.
The hand in her hair was pulsating along with her licks until finally it stopped and grabbed a firm fist of blonde hair and began to quake.
She could hear a scrape as the trade minister's chair slid back. Ordinarily this would be when it would be polite for the host to stand herself but, Emma noted in amusement, Regina was in no condition to do any such thing. She could hear her talking faster and faster, as if that would fill the void of the etiquette snub. At this point she would be qualified to call a Grand National horse race.
Her torso was wiggling and sliding and Emma lifted one arm to clamp her thighs in place, careful to make sure it was not above desk level.
Now Emma quickly slid a finger up under her own chin, found Regina's entrance and ringed it gently, quietly, then she slipped a finger in and twisted in the tight clenching space, swiping her clit once more with her tongue in a firm, practiced maneuver that never failed. Sure enough...
Regina shook. Emma could barely hear her with thighs taut, again covering her ears, but she was sure the strain in Regina's squeaking voice she heard was all too real.
The quaking stopped and Regina shot to her feet, pushing Emma back in a seamless motion. Ah, etiquette satisfied just in time, Emma grinned, wiping Regina's essence off her mouth, savouring the unique flavor.
She could hear Regina apologizing for not being well and stating they would finish off talks tomorrow. The mayor abruptly sat down. Her assistant appeared at her call and Emma heard her show the Chinese woman out.
She could make out Regina telling the PA to lock the door as she left and not disturb her for the rest of the day.
And then silence.
Emma suddenly felt nervous. She hadn't meant it to go this far. But she had just thoroughly fucked the mayor under her desk during a business meeting.
Regina pushed her chair back and stared down, eyes blazing, as she looked at Emma fully for the first time in 20 minutes. The blonde locked her blues eyes with burning dark ones and braced herself for whatever was coming next.
Regina's cheeks were red, her shoulders heaving and she looked feverish and thoroughly ravished. Emma couldn't begin to think what the trade delegate had made of her as she hastened out of the room.
"Well ... I suppose you're pretty proud of yourself," Regina growled, tossing Emma an infuriated glare. "Did you have to win your juvenile challenge during an international trade meeting?" She pinned Emma with a ferocious look. "Really?"
Emma swallowed and then attempted an adorable grin. "When would you have preferred?"
Regina stared at her for a moment then rose to her feet, towering over her and giving her a stony-faced look.
"Stand up, dear, there's something I want to show you."
Emma cautiously got to her feet, testing out all her protesting muscles and kinks. "Ow," she muttered when her tortured elbow complained. "What is it?"
Quick as a flash, Regina spun the sheriff around and slammed Emma against her desk and bent her over, face forward, a hand firmly at the back of her neck. Emma's nose was crushed into the paperwork and she had barely registered her surprise when she felt Regina's warm weight pressing on top of her.
The mayor molded herself over Emma's back and hissed right into her ear: "Did you really think, my dear, I would just let you do that to me without any repercussions?" The mayor's voice was threatening but the breathiness gave her arousal away.
"I want to show you that while you may be able to give an exceptional foot massage, I have my own talents. I can make a woman scream just by doing this," she said. She jerked her hips hard against Emma's and the blonde gasped. She repeated the action, driving the blonde even more forcefully into the desk.
Emma shuddered, the feeling of being completely covered by the mayor flooding her core with wetness. Her panties were soaked.
Regina shifted off her and Emma almost sobbed at the loss. The mayor swiftly yanked down Emma's jeans and underwear in one sudden aggressive motion until they gathered at her knees. She yanked off her boots and dragged the jeans and panties the rest of the way off. She lowered herself to her knees and inspected the sheriff from behind, her ass and pussy, bare and vulnerable, exposed to dark brown eyes.
"Well, well," Regina observed dryly, eyes raking across her, hands running up firm naked thighs. "A true blonde. How delightful."
Emma groaned as she felt the mayor's finger slide once up and down her throbbing slit before she withdrew her finger and held it to the light, inspecting the copious amount of juice she had collected. "A very aroused true blonde at that." Regina shoved two fingers suddenly inside Emma, corkscrewed them, and then withdrew them just as swiftly. Emma gasped in shock and twisted to gape at the brunette.
"Wha...?" she blurted incredulously, but the sight of Regina placing her dripping fingers into her mouth, slowly licking them clean as though tasting a fine wine completely erased any brain function. The mayor's mouth twitched in approval and her eyes glinted as they met wide blue ones.
"You have just distracted me from my mission. Again," Regina drawled.
She rose gracefully to her feet, lifted her dress above her hips and pushed her bare pussy against Emma's naked ass and now very wet center and began to grind. She pushed Emma's front back onto the desk as she crushed herself over her once more. Skin on skin, wetness on wetness. Holy fuck, was about all the blonde could conjure up in her head.
The sensation and friction were profoundly erotic. Her clit was rubbing on the desk edge and Mayor Mills was humping her like a woman possessed. "Oh god," Emma whimpered.
"Oh yes, my dear," Regina moaned in her ear, teasing, and slamming into her still. "You like that, my wet little hussy, don't you?"
Emma hated it when lovers talked dirty to her. And she would have clocked any man had they ever called her a name like that - but the liquid, seductive way Regina did it, maddeningly just increased her arousal. She could hear the wet noises as their bodies ground out a rhythm.
The mayor lifted off her for a moment and reached around, rubbing Emma's clit hard, her finger clawing back moisture over it.
Emma uttered a deep, loud moan.
"Oh no you don't, my dear," Regina sneered, eyes flashing darkly as she clapped a hand around the blonde's mouth. "You do NOT get to make a sound. You may come for me, all over me, dear, the same way you made me undo myself in front of the trade minister. But you must not even whisper, even as you're dying to scream. The same way I wanted to when you ran your tongue along my cunt, and thrust your fingers inside me.
"Nod if you understand." Her voice was low, dirty, challenging. Part of Emma wanted to know what defying the mayor in this state would be like. But she doubted she could handle it if the brunette arbitrarily denied her a glorious end to this sublime torture just to punish her.
Emma nodded vigorously and Regina's hand fell back to her hips only to suddenly flip her over and push her lips on hers in a forceful kiss. Her lips feasted hungrily on Emma's mouth, thrusting her tongue inside her and duelling for dominance with the blonde. After a moment Regina pulled back only long enough to wrench off Emma's tanktop and bra, then she lowered her obscenely red lips to her nipples.
"Oh," the brunette groaned as she nibbled, teased and bit the sensitive peaks. "I've wanted to do this for weeks. Ever since..." Regina faded out, unwilling to admit...
Emma smirked knowingly, finally having her answer. "Oh, yes. Ever since."
Regina's cheeks glowed even as she glared.
Then Regina's lips were sliding down her nude form and between Emma's legs, finding her sweet spot, parting swollen lips and lapping at her, urging the trembles out of her until finally Emma spasmed, clenched hands grabbing the edge of the table and silently screaming.
Regina slid fingers quickly inside her, easily, as if needing the liquid proof. "Very good, my dear. Not a sound."
Emma flopped flat on her back, gasping weakly, one leg dangling down off the desk, the other bent at the knee on top of it, and Regina suddenly lifted a leg onto the desk just past Emma's hip, squatting over her and crushing their wet pussies together in a surprisingly athletic and flexible pose.
"Tell me something, sheriff," the brunette drawled, staring into blue orbs as she rocked herself provocatively on her, "Do you think about me at night in bed, when you're touching yourself?"
"I-I…" Emma blushed and glared at the mayor.
"Admit it my dear – you have been wanting me to fuck you for months," she taunted. The sounds of wetness grew and Regina's back was arching, thrusting her chest out.
Emma stared at her. "Show me your breasts and I'll tell you," she said breathily. She had intended it to come out like a flirty demand. But the mayor was riding her pussy like a rodeo pro. Gasping was all she had left now.
The mayor smirked, lifted an eyebrow but slowly opened the dress and slid it down, all the while still rubbing into Emma, rocking seductively. The dress was now bunched in a ring at Regina's waist, and she reached behind herself to undo her black bra. She held it out, dangling, and dropped it provocatively to the floor.
Emma stared up at the astonishing woman rubbing into her, breasts bouncing, and deep red nipples jutting out and felt almost stupid with desire.
"Tell me," Regina urged, rocking their bodies together. "You come in your little bed at Mary Margaret's, fingers up your cunt, thinking of me. Don't you dear."
There was a silence, only the wetness filling the air. Finally the blonde woman glanced up and looked directly into the other woman's eyes.
"Every night." Emma whispered.
Regina's mask slipped for a moment at the honest admission and then a ghost of a smile flitted across her face, genuine this time. She arched one more time, thrusting wet heat into the blonde below her and cried out.
"I thought so," she then whispered, her eyes shut tight as the shudders rippled over her. "I thought so."
Emma watched her through half lidded eyes as the mayor finally slid off her. "You're magnificent when you come," she said appreciatively. "I could watch you throw back your head like that all day. I could feel your pussy sliding on mine forever."
"Then how would I ever get any work done?" Regina asked archly, faintly amused, pulling her dress back into place and looking around in confusion for her underwear.
"Didn't seem to be a problem not too long ago," Emma grinned. " 'Sides, women are great multi-taskers."
The mayor rolled her eyes. "I give up, where the hell did you stash my panties, Miss Swan?"
"Oh no you don't Regina, I'm keeping them," Emma grinned, rolling off the table to pull on her jeans and patted the bulge in her pocket.
"What? Why?" The mayor asked curiously.
"Do I really have to spell it out," asked Emma bluntly, blushing faintly.
Regina stared at her open mouthed, desire flooding her eyes. She appeared to force herself to blink away the image with some effort.
"All right, fine, Miss Swan, I get the picture. Since you apparently 'rattled' me today – you can keep your… trophy," she conceded with a tiny smirk and gave an imperious wave. "Although I think you might be far too busy to be enjoying them for the foreseeable future."
"I will?" Emma asked, confused.
"Well if you're not busy tonight, I was wondering if you'd like to come over and ... rattle me again?" Regina suggested, with a gleam in her eyes.
Chapter 3: Epilogue
Trade Minister Mulan Lin sat in her bedroom, glaring at the page for the report she should have submitted three hours ago. She pulled her robe closer around her bare shoulders and rumpled into a small fist the paper that represented her abortive third draft.
She picked up another page and sighed. The quaint bed and breakfast at Storybrooke did not have wi-fi or any other internet connection, so she was resorting to handwriting. She'd have to tap it all in and email it from her iPhone later when her service could get a signal.
Granny's B&B, like most things in this odd little town, seemed as if it had been trapped somewhere in the mid-'80s. Even the fashion, particularly the mayor's, seemed caught in an odd conservative power-dressing time warp. The strangest thing was, no one seemed to notice how far out of the information-superhighway loop they were - nor did they even care. She had only met one citizen who had seemed even remotely curious about the outside world and he would have cheerfully questioned her for hours had she not had her meeting to attend.
But he was only 10.
The delegate suppressed a quiet yawn and tried to focus. She was not entirely sure how to phrase exactly what had happened in that meeting with the formidable Mayor Mills. Well, she was formidable by reputation. However the Chinese woman had seen nothing to link the woman she had met with that rep. She was charismatic and striking, it was true. But as for the rest... Mulan frowned.
The first stage of negotiations towards securing the mineral and extraction rights to Storybrooke's mountains were supposed to have been wrapped up by now. They should have already been moving on to stage 2, the contentious issue - re-opening an old abandoned silver mine that the mayor was clinging preciously to. But they hadn't even gotten close to that apparently tetchy topic.
Mulan sighed again. Instead she was stuck having to do a report explaining why the meeting was not concluded satisfactorily and that more time would be necessary.
Her superiors would not be pleased.
The raven-haired woman tapped a pen against her jaw. How could she say, politely and diplomatically and without bringing an abrupt halt to proceedings, that the woman had behaved oddly and it had absolutely nothing to do with negotiations.
Come to think of it, Mayor Mills had seemed unusually anxious even before they had sat down. And a little angry.
She had greeted Mulan with a small smile and dropped to her chair abruptly. Then, moments later, she began to wriggle about incessantly. About five minutes after that she suddenly slammed her glass of what Mulan presumed to be some form of liquid apple concoction to the desk, slopping it all over her hand.
The delegate noted she had not been offered a refreshment at all.
The Storybrooke mayor had then commenced to shuffle her papers about, first to the left and then the right. Her hands began trembling. She started to speak extremely fast - far faster than Mulan's ordinarily impeccable grasp of English allowed her to follow. She understood about one word in five - some of it was muttered, and most of those words seemed to be about a sheriff who would shortly die. She wondered if the unfortunate individual had been sick for long.
Perhaps the prefecture should send a fruit basket as a gesture of goodwill? Mulan frowned. Cultural niceties could be a minefield at times.
Mid-sentence, the mayor had suddenly bolted upright from her chair, leaned over and pushed a sheaf of papers over to her - none of which had anything to do with the mining rights proposal.
Mulan had stared at these pages in confusion, and flicked her eyes back to the brunette who appeared at once both wild-eyed and faintly apologetic, as if fully aware her behaviour was erratic but unable to stop it. So the delegate had simply pushed them back across to the mayor, assuming an error of some sort had taken place.
The brunette had then leaned heavily on them and begun perspiring, her eyes clenching shut at intervals. She would randomly moan and cough.
She resumed speaking so fast that at this point Mulan felt she had the very same migraine the mayor professed she had. It was with enormous relief Mulan had an excuse to rise swiftly to end the meeting. But the other woman had simply sat there gulping the air awkwardly.
By the time the strange mayor had at last leapt to her feet to shake her hand firmly goodbye, the Chinese delegate had developed her own theory as to what ailment might be troubling the leader of Storybrooke, Maine.
Mulan put her report down and glanced over to the leggy, milky-white woman sprawled in her bed behind her. Her eyes warmed as she took in the local beauty she had met in the quaint food establishment downstairs earlier that evening, who had offered to show her all the "delights" Storybrooke had to offer.
The actual town's tour had been obscenely swift; the more up-close exploration of its highlights had been slow and sensual and had taken three delicious hours. A satisfied smile spread across the delegate's shapely lips.
Ruby rolled over in her sleep, exposing a pale breast and a plump rosy nipple to the admiring Chinese woman, who felt a thrill skittering down her spine.
Oh yes, Trade Minister Mulan Lin most definitely had a theory about Mayor Mills. She knew exactly what a woman coming hard looks like. And, thanks to a gift of truly excellent hearing, she also identified very well the tell-tale breathless sounds of another woman providing oral caresses.
Mulan rose and slithered her robe to the floor, padding naked back to bed. Storybrooke was certainly a town with many hidden secrets that she would have to examine further - in great and thorough detail.
She'd put that in her report.