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It was freezing in the Alps, and Brian had gotten two one-room cabins for the girls to stay in, each had two twin beds. Joan and Paul had argued earlier, leading to the younger girl packing a small bag and wrapping herself in her snow gear. “Paulie, you’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m done talking to you right now,” she huffed out, pulling a hat down over her head, the curls of her bob smushed against it. Joan stood in the center of the cabin, having watched Pauline rush around, picking up items and shoving them in her bag.
“Paul,”
“Shut the fuck up, Joan.”
“You forgot a pair of socks for tomorrow,” she remarked, a smirk appearing on her lips.
Paul looked at her pointedly, her lips pursed, before marching to the drawer and shoving a pair of socks into her bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she huffed, swinging the door open. A cold rush of air swept the room, making Joan shiver. Paul stomped into the deep snow, leaving dark prints as she walked to the neighboring cabin.
Paul walked as quickly as she could to George and Ringo’s cabin, knocking quickly when she reached the door. After a moment, Ringo opened the door and looked at Paul’s shivering body and pink face, “What’s wrong?” she asked, letting Paul into the cabin.
Paul sniffles, “Joan, just being a bitch.” There was a collective sigh.
Forty-five minutes later, there’s a fast knocking on what was Joan and Paul’s cabin. Joan answers it and lets the freezing, grumpy George inside. “The council’s decided, then?”
George rolls her eyes, kicking her boots off and setting her bag in the corner, “Stop pissing her off when it’s cold outside.” She inelegantly yanks her scarf and coat off, her gloves coming off when she pulls her hands through the sleeves. She pulled off her hat and looked in a mirror to fix her hair, “I said Ringo should’ve come over here instead of me, I can’t keep meself warm,”
Joan chuckles, goes to the small rolling bar, and pours them both a drink, “Here, this should raise your temperature,” she says, handing George the drink once she’s just down to her sweater and pajama pants.
A few hours into the night, George and Joan were both thoroughly wasted, giggling loudly. Joan sat on the head of Paul’s bed while George sat on the foot of it, playing cards.
“Geo,” Joan hummed, her head swimming.
“Yah, Joanie?”
“This is the longest I’ve gone without sex,”
George hesitates as she lays her card down, thinking to herself, “Me too… I think,” she says, looking up at her.
Joan nods, “Can’t go out while filmin’ here, and my husband’s at home. And Paulie’s, just… being Paulie,” she says.
George nods and scoots closer to her, “Yeah, I haven’t seen that Pattie bird in a minute, either.”
Joan threw a knowing glance at George, her returning it with a small smile. Joan sat her cards on the comforter, forgotten as she leaned in and kissed George, her fingers carding through the younger woman’s short hair. They’ve done this before, on tours and a few times before Hamburg. It was mostly Joan and Paul, but the other girls joined in at times, and Joan enjoyed when she could get alone time with one of the other girls, it had been a while for all of them.
George kissed back, pulling away with a smile. She looked down at the mess of cards on the duvet, “Look what you did,” she scolded lightly, going to pick the cards up.
Joan grabs her wrists before they can pick up the cards scattered on the bed, pulling her in to kiss her again. She sits up on her knees, crawling into George’s space, cards bending under the weight of her shuffling on top of them. Joan hums softly against her lips, deepening the kiss.
George gripped Joan’s waist with one hand, the other behind her on the bed to stabilize herself. George looked up at Joan when she pulled away, “Lay down.”
“Pick up the cards first,” George countered, staring up at her with a smug look on her face.
Joan scoffed and pressed her tongue to the top of her mouth before shuffling away from her to clean the cards up, deciding not to be too difficult. She still had a chance to get her way. She turned to the bedside table and tapped the sides of the deck against the hard surface, straightening them. She sat them down and looked back to George, “Now?” she asked, holding back the desperation in her tone.
George bit her lip and looked around the room for anything else to nitpick, almost laying down before she saw that Joan had left the cap off the bottle. She sat up more, her hand carding through Joan’s wavy auburn hair, making the older girl’s eyes fall shut briefly. George leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to her neck, making her way up to her jaw, nibbling at it slightly. The little pants from the girl in front of George almost made her forget about the ways she wanted to tease her tonight.
George pulled away and gazed up at Joan, smiling softly when Joan met her gaze, “Why’d you stop?”
“On the bar,” George whispers lowly beside Joan’s ear, “There’s a cap missing from the bottle of Brandy, and you were the last one over there.”
Joan huffs in annoyance, “Georgie –”
“The bottle,” George interrupts, smiling as she watches Joan shift off the bed and screw the bottle cap on tightly. She turned and lunged towards George, tackling her to her back. They roughhouse for a while, partially pulling off each other's clothes as they push each other back and forth.
George eventually overpowers Joan, which Joan wants to believe she let her do. The girl on top is left in her pants and sports bra, her shirt torn off in the tussle. Joan is also similarly undressed in her bra and underwear; she knew her shorts were too loose. George leans over Joan, her arms braced by either side of her head. She was still panting from the fighting, but Joan got a view of her full tits held up by her bra and it sent a vulnerable shiver through her.
George smirked as she watched pink flood from Joan’s face to her chest. She let her hand trace the contours of Joan’s body, admiring every part she could see. She massaged one of Joan’s small tits over the bra in the palm of her hand, going back in to kiss her neck. Joan moaned softly in appreciation, her back arching for more of the touch. George took the opportunity to slide her hands beneath her, unclasping the plain bra.
She pulled back as she dragged the bra off of Joan’s arms, loving the way Joan stared up at her with her pleading brown eyes. George knew that Joan would let her do whatever she wanted to her, even though she would never say it. The younger girl’s hand traced up the contours of her body again, this time paying more attention to her small chest.
Her fingers lingered over her perked nipples, teasing lightly until Joan had to beg her to get on with it. George hummed and moved to shove Joan’s underwear off, smiling as she lifted her hips instinctively. She slotted her thigh between Joan’s legs easily, the older girl grinding down on it.
Joan gazed up at George again, fully realizing how undressed she was compared to her. “Well, this is hardly fair, is it?” She ran a finger up under the strap of her bra, pulling it and letting it snap back against her skin.
George scoffed, sitting back to pull it off. Joan took a handful of her tits in her hands, squeezing greedily, a grin plastered on her face. George giggled, her drunken state making her not care about the groping. She pushed her knee up, watching Joan moan in surprise.
Joan wrapped an arm around George’s neck, grinding down harder on her knee, whimpering quietly. George ducked her head down, biting her neck softly.
“Ack!” George felt hands swatting at her head, and looked up, “Nowhere visible, you vampire,” Joan scolded, poking her cheek, pressing against her teeth.
George nodded lazily and kissed down her torso, leaving small love bites on her chest and stomach. She hoped they wouldn’t be put in anything too low-cut in the next few days. She slid off the bed to her knees, spreading Joan’s legs around her head.
Joan pushed herself up to her elbows, admiring George as she moved. She pushed a hand through her thick hair, moving it out of her face. George shot a small glance at her, kissing her thighs lightly. Joan bit her lip, “I’m horny enough, skip foreplay.”
George giggled softly before quickly kissing a quick trail up her thigh, stopping at her clit. She flattened her tongue at the bottom of her cunt, dragging it up slowly; the salty taste flooded her mouth, making her moan softly.
Joan whimpered softly, throwing her head back. Her whines became drawn out moans as George repeated the action, progressively using more pressure as she went along.
The grip on her hair tightened when George wrapped her lips around Joan’s clit, sucking on it lightly. The older girl arched her back, letting out a guttural moan. She quickly clamped a hand over her mouth, embarrassed at the sound George was able go pull from her.
George reached up and tugged on Joan’s arm, pulling her hand off of her mouth. George continued working between her legs, holding them open over her shoulders.
Joan’s legs tensed, her body beginning to shake, “Geo, Georgie—“
George held her down, licking her cunt broadly as she came on her tongue. Joan ground down onto her face, reeling from the after shocks.
George leaned back when Joan’s grip on her hair loosened. She panted softly, looking up at the sweaty girl lying in front of her.
She stood up, stretching her arms up in the air. Joan opened her eyes right as George brought her arms down, “Did I miss you stretching? And you had your tits out? Christ, I’m an idiot!” She scolded herself, balling her fists on her forehead dramatically.
George giggled, crawling up next to her on the bed. Joan looked up at her, wrapping her arms around her neck again and pulling her in for a kiss.
George hummed into her lips, moving to pull her pants down. She straddled one of Joan’s thighs as she kicked the tangled wet fabric off her legs. Joan let out a small yelp when George pushed her leg up over her shoulder, not knowing she was that flexible.
Joan gazed up at her, watching George’s focused face as she shifted her pussy against her thigh, turning her head to kiss Joan’s ankle. She moved forward gradually, pressing her cunt against Joan’s.
Joan gasped softly at the feeling, the pressure and the radiating heat flowing through her. George is in a much similar semi-surprised state, face pressed against Joan’s calf as her hips stuttered against Joan’s.
“Can I— can I move?” George asked, her voice hoarse, trying not to focus on the friction she so desperately needed. She didn’t need to wait long, because Joan frantically nodded underneath her, rambling about how hot she was.
George thrusts her hips experimentally, letting out a moan as their clits rubbed lightly together. The wetness between them made their movements easy and fluid.
George sped her hips up, holding onto Joan’s leg tightly for stability. “Fuck, Haz— fuck, fuck!” Joan moaned, her back arching into George’s thrusts.
George planted her free hand on the mattress, pushing their slick skin together faster. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and wet skin-on-skin. Joan’s hands wrap on George’s waist, meeting her thrusts. With the way Joan was moaning underneath her and the feeling of their cunts pressed together, it was becoming too much for George. She seized as she squirted over Joan’s torso, her mouth hanging open as she let out a low moan.
Joan fought to keep her eyes open as she watched George come undone on top of her. She pushed herself up from where she’d been lying to kiss George softly. George sighed contentedly into the kiss and planted herself on Joan’s thigh. She snuck her hand between Joan’s thighs to finish her off again.