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“Sweetheart! You joined us!”
Your lips turn upwards into an easy smile directed at your father as you step carefully over the marbled floor, heels clicking with every step. You’ve practiced for this moment for a week, and you’ll be damned if you left three inch heels trip you up.
Parties aren’t your thing; no matter what people seemed to think of you and your friends when you were out at the weekends. They painted a portrait of a young twenty-one year old girl who couldn’t handle her alcohol and relied on daddy’s money to get by - in reality, you had barely been tipsy, let alone black out drunk, and you never really needed money for much. Although the animal shelter you’d funded had been with your dad’s money, it gave you enough to pay him back slowly and get by, and left a little aside for your own personal life.
Tonight was all about your dad, anyway; Getting this promotion had been the best thing to happen since his wife died. He needed this.
“Hi, dad.” You murmur, letting him kiss you on the temple. You smile gently at the group of people around him, introducing yourself while they shake your hand. You hope that it isn’t as clammy as you think it is.
You look at your dad and smile; he’s dressed in that one tuxedo that he keeps for only special occasions, and he’s drinking whiskey with a shaking hand. Whiskey won’t get him drunk, and you release a relieved sigh under your breath. He needs to stay sober. You need to make him stay sober.
He goes back to talking with them quickly, and you excuse yourself to the bar outside, keeping an eye trained on the group you’d left talking about the stock market or something. With such a big house, you’d managed to wring your dad out of a permanent bar stationed in the garden, a beautifully sleek and modern little corner, tucked away on the opposite side of the pool. You had a bartender on hire, and you recognise him as someone you’ve seen often before.
“Jesse!” You squeal, tapping your fingers down on the bar. Your hips shake side to side as you bend over it slightly, grinning at him.
“Fashionably late to the party. As always.” He winks at you and starts to pour a gin and lemonade, garnished with a wedge of lemon and served in a frosted balloon glass. You smile quietly at him and sip from the small black straw deposited into it, making small talk with him until he’s called to the other side of the bar.
You’re surveying the garden area, noticing that your dad is still inside talking to a different group of people. You watch them milling around for a while, still sipping from your drink until it’s finished, and then turn around to a completely new one, perfectly made even though you hadn’t asked for one. You smirk at Jesse and watch him work, crafting special cocktails now that the night is getting a little bit livelier.
“You should try the sex on the beach. ‘S good.”
You jump at the voice and turn, your vision dragging slightly. The drinks were doubles, and you can start to feel the slight buzz in your blood.
Standing in front of you is possibly the hottest woman you’ve ever seen; her hair is in a bun with a few wispy bits dangling around her face, and her right hand is in her suit pocket. You take note of the belt wrapped around her waist and the way her white shirt tucks into it, the top two buttons open, showing off the gold chain she’s wearing around her neck.
Fuck.
“He’s the best.” You manage to say, quickly averting your eyes. The woman takes a seat next to you and you’re suddenly aware of how short your little sundress is, and just how tall those damn heels are. “Makes a good gin & lemon.”
The woman laughs and sips her whiskey, her eyes unabashedly travelling down your torso to your thighs. “It’s a spirit and a mixer. Can’t be that hard.”
You look at her with raised eyebrows. “It’s very difficult to make a strong drink while masking the bitter taste of gin and he does it. You can get drunk on three of these.” You take a sip. “And besides, you’re drinking straight alcohol. How’d you know what a sex on the beach tastes like?”
“How many have you had?” She raises an eyebrow, ignoring the rest of your sentences, bringing her glass to her lips.
“Two.”
She smiles and downs what’s rest of the liquid. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Good.”
You don’t even know what to do, so you just avert your eyes back to the drink and take another sip.
“What’s a kid like you doing at a party, then?”
“I’m twenty-one.” You say, crossing your legs. You can feel your skirt ride up the outside of your thigh, and you smile inwardly when you feel her eyes burning on the newly exposed skin. “My dad just got a promotion with you guys.”
The woman hums. “We’re lucky to have him.”
You nod; you can definitely agree with her there.
“You’re not out with your friends? It’s a Saturday night.” She says, but it doesn’t sound mean.
“I don’t really… do that.” You say, and then realise how stupid you sound. “I just prefer to stay in and watch ‘Glee’.”
“That show’s stupid.” She scoffs.
“I agree.” You nod along. “But Santana is really fucking hot.”
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact that you know she’s been looking at you, but you feel comfortable to tell her that you find women attractive. You say it so normally, not even thinking for a moment that she won’t be okay with it.
And you were right; as soon as you mention it, her whole demeanour changes. She cocks an eyebrow and leans down closer to you and she’s started to look at you more like you’re a prey and she’s a predator.
“She your type, honey?”
You just shrug, lips wet while staring at her nose. She’s so attractive and all of a sudden your thighs feel too warm and the gin glass feels too cold and you need her lips on yours right now.
“Yeah,” you just breathe out. “I guess.”
The woman hums and looks you up and down again, before turning to see where your dad is. He’s busy on the other side of the garden, talking to a group of older men. He looks at ease, and you smile to yourself in the back of your mind, grateful to see him so in his element.
When you turn your attention back to the woman, you notice how much closer she is to you. Her knee is slotted between your legs, gently brushing against the insides of your knee. Her fingers are gently playing with yours on the bar, and her eyes are narrowed lazily on your lips; you’d never seen such a lustful expression on anyone.
“Abby.” She says, still staring at your lips.
You hum in confusion, before it clicks two seconds later that she’s introducing herself.
“You wanna get out of here?”
“I can’t go anywhere.” You say, although everything in you is burning to let her take you to the ends of the earth.
“You gotta relax those reins sometime, sweetheart.” She murmurs, pushing her knee further between your legs. “Why don’t you show me your pretty little room?”
You nod wordlessly and hop off the bar stool, leading her back towards the house. Your dad and his drinking is in the back of your mind, and all you’re focussed on now is her eyes on the back of your thighs, feel her body close to yours. She’s a few inches taller than you and you can feel her larger strides catching up with you until she’s almost enveloping your body with hers.
The stairs are long and high but eventually you reach your room, at the end of the hall, and you smile gently at the sight of your plushies mounting the soft white and pink duvet. Your heels dig into the soft fluffy carpet and you smell at the vanilla scented candle you’d recently burned.
Abby audibly groans behind you, mumbling about how of course you have fucking plushies. You’ve barely let her inside the room before she’s crowding you into the door, lips on yours.
“Been wanting to touch you all fucking night.” She grunts, and she sounds deeper now, her body hot and heavy against yours. She presses you into the door and you gasp, the air leaving your lungs so quickly that it winds you.
She keeps kissing you, messy and wet, and her hands are trailing all over you and grabbing at your clothes like she can’t stop herself. You keen when her warm hand brushes your hip bone and she pulls back, breathless.
“This okay?” She says, but her eyes are entirely trained on your lips and she’s started to walk you backwards towards the bed.
You nod and make a sound of agreement, and that seems to be all she needs; her body pushes yours down onto the bed and her lips are on your neck, sucking on the sweet spot underneath your ear until you’re moaning underneath her.
She shushes you with a giggle and your heart swoons. God fucking damn it.
“You been with a woman before?” She asks, and any other time you might’ve cringed at the question, but her lips are travelling down your stomach and your panties are soaking wet and the room is warm and you just need her so bad, you need her to touch you and you need to feel her inside you.
“No.” You say, breathless. “Not with anyone.”
She stops at that, her eyes locking with yours, and you suddenly get a pit of dread in your stomach. You worry for a moment that she’s going to be turned off, that she’s going to stop touching you, that she’s going to go down and tell your father that the job is off and he’s fired and you’re a-
“Fuck.” She breathes out and inches her face until it’s level with your panty-clothed cunt. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”
The last part of her sentence is muffled slightly, because she’s diving straight into your panties and licking at you through the fabric, her tongue flat against you and dipping into you through the panties. A broken moan escapes your throat, sounding choked and needy, and you clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle it.
“Don’t do that.” She murmurs, pulling your panties to the side, licking at you like she’s starved. “I wanna hear you.”
Your eyes roll back in your head when she touches you properly, one finger teasing at your hole while her tongue circles your clit. She’s humming against you like she’s got all the time in the world, and the vibrations are sending shockwaves through your spine.
“Abby.” You gasp, back arching off the bed.
She’s skilled with her mouth, eating you out like she’s eating the messiest fruit in the world. Her spit, or your wetness, is dripping down her chin, soaking the bed underneath you both. Her hands are gripping your thighs around her head so tightly that you can’t move, and you writhe around underneath her pathetically, toes curling. She’s so strong, so hot, so much older than you…
You cum in her mouth without even thinking to tell her, moaning and writhing and shaking while she hums and laughs and works you through it. She doesn’t stop until you start whining and pushing at her head, and even then it takes a few moments before she eventually gives up.
When she pulls back, her face is a mess, her chin, lips, and nose soaking wet. She’s grinning, even though her hair is pulled and ruffled up, and her chest is rising and falling rapidly.
“Virgins.” She mumbles to herself with a little laugh and you feel a wave of shame overtake your body. It’s short lived and quickly forgotten, though, because she starts to crawl up to you and you take her lips with yours, kissing her deeply, tasting yourself on her tongue. Her knee finds its place between your legs and you whimper, stomach turning at the groan that elicits in her.
“A-Abby.” You gasp, rolling your hips into her knee.
“That’s it, baby.” She murmurs, kissing down your jaw to your neck. “Say my name.”
Eyes rolling back in your head, you pull on her hair lightly to tug her away from your skin. You look at her in the dim light of your bedroom, searching her wild but mature eyes, and you wonder absentmindedly how much older she is than you, how much more mature she is than you. She has a job with your father, for Christ’s sake.
“How old are you?” You breathe out, not even thinking about it.
She looks up in surprise, cocking her head with a slight smirk. “Why, sweetheart? It gets you off quicker?”
You shake your head and throw it back with a sigh as she removes her mouth from your neck, rolling off you with a grunt. Looking over at her, she looks a mess, hair messy, chin wet, chest rising and falling rapidly. She looks incredibly beautiful and breathtakingly sexy all at once.
She turns over to look at you, propping her head up with her fist.
“You look ruined.”
You give her a sleepy smile, too tired for anything else.
“I’m not ruined yet. Still got a long way to go.”
Abby hums and reaches out to stroke your cheek with her thumb.
“Oh trust me.” She says with a smile that reaches her eyes and lights up her whole face. She’s beautiful. “You will be soon.”