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my love is unusual

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Jane shakes whenever Joanie takes off her clothes.

At the beginning Joanie had wondered if she had doubts, or if there was something wrong with her, but then she had understood that it didn’t have anything to do with her or with doubts. Apparently it’s something that Jane won’t ever talk about (the first time Joanie tried… well, it ended with Jane stomping out of the room to search for a drink, and Joanie caught the message), and something that doesn’t sit too well with Jane herself as well since she doesn’t seem to notice that it happens, and when she does notice she looks as if she’s angry with herself.

Joanie has learned not to take it personally – if it can’t be helped, then it can’t.

That doesn’t mean that Joanie can’t take care of it. She doesn’t exactly feel nostalgic towards the life she used to lead until a few months ago, and she certainly isn’t planning on going back to it anytime soon, but it doesn’t mean that she regrets it, or that she feels ashamed, or that she’ll forget everything that she learned just for the sake of it.

If Jane can’t help it, that’s not an issue. She can make her forget about it, and if it means putting old knowledge to practice, Joanie isn't adverse to it at all.

She just pretends to ignore it whenever Jane takes off her shirt and her shoulders start to tremble the same way they did when they kissed for the first time, and she leans down and runs her tongue over Jane’s pulse point instead. It didn’t take much to learn the places that make Jane moan, and usually that’s all that it takes to make her stop shaking – her finger pressing at the back of Jane’s neck, her mouth behind Jane’s ear, her nails lightly scraping at the side of Jane’s left breast or her tongue running along Jane’s wrist.

If it doesn’t, it still doesn’t matter because by then Jane’s mouth is on hers, and she isn’t thinking about anything other than what they’re doing. Joanie tries never to push, but Jane arches up against her whenever Joanie’s fingers touch her breasts before trailing down to her groin, her thumb just prodding at her entrance for a while before Joanie slips a finger inside. She never does it in a hurry, and when Jane clenches around her fingers, wet and hot and cursing in Joanie’s ear, she’s trembling for entirely different reasons.

And damn, Joanie hadn’t known that hearing Jane curse more than most men she knows would make her shiver as well, but the more Jane talks the more Joanie feels turned on – and that’s when she leans down, her finger slipping away and her mouth replacing them. Jane screams whenever Joanie’s tongue runs over her clit and Joanie can’t help touching herself at that point; it’s not something that has ever happened to her with men, or at least it has never turned her on like this. Mostly it’s because Jane can scream whatever she wants, but it’s never directed at Joanie, not really; the more she screams fuck as Joanie’s tongue brings her over the edge, the more Joanie feels wet around her own fingers. It’ll be a while before Jane does this to her, she knows, but Joanie is perfectly content with what they have now, with Jane’s fingers pushing her head down as she comes; she clenches harder as soon as Jane lets out a final moan and when she drags herself back up on the bed, her sticky fingers running over Jane’s thigh and Jane’s stomach she feels sated in a way she has never felt when fucking anyone else. Jane comes along when Joanie kisses by that point, and her fingers always tremble just slightly when she grabs a handful of Joanie’s hair.

Joanie doesn’t mind that at all. She could kiss Jane for hours – her lips aren’t as rough as they look after a while, and Jane’s only skill with her tongue isn’t cursing. And if while they do she isn’t above bringing her fingers over Jane’s clit again, just brushing, enough to make Jane arch against her and mutter another string of courses whenever their lips aren’t meeting, well, Joanie isn’t above putting her own skills to good use.