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N is for Naked

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She’s ticklish. And that’s something Ellen can appreciate because as far as weakness go, Patty doesn’t have many. But this one, Ellen likes. She relishes in hearing that muffled, tired chuckle as they lie side by side in Patty’s bed about an hour after having just used each other in the best way possible.

Ellen props her head on her elbow as she allows her free hand to drift along the expanse of the blonde’s freckled bare back. She’s riveted by this. The adorable little traits no one gets to see. Ellen finds it fascinating. It somehow softens the woman’s image. Freckles! Patty Hewes has them. Everywhere. They adorn the fair skin beautifully and Ellen is always transfixed by them. She plays a mental connect the dot game, tracing sporadic trails all over. Not that she hadn’t seen them before, of course she does have eyes, but seeing them up close is another thing entirely.

Patty watches her in silence, her breath now even and relaxed as Ellen continues her quiet appreciation. She’s smiling and Patty doesn’t understand this fixation, but she’ll allow it--if only because the way the younger woman rakes her finger nails every once in a while along her spine makes her feel almost comfortably sedated and compliant.

Ellen bites her lip and gently skims a shoulder blade with her index finger. Patty shifts and scolds her to stop tickling her. Ellen laughs and says, “Turn over.”

Patty groans her annoyance but complies nonetheless, obediently doing as she’s told and throwing one arm carelessly over her head as Ellen pulls the sheet way down to the blonde’s mid waist and then resumes her exploration of freckled skin.

Breathing in deeply and slowly, Patty finds it funny that it’s taken her all this time to be this comfortable and open about her body with another individual. The level of trust and intimacy this requires--this slow, pointless memorization of her birthmarks and reaction to different ways of touching--has never been something Patty gives freely. The seventies don’t count. She has her share of stories she hopes Ellen will never ask about but that was different. That was her finding herself and this something different altogether. This is someone else finding her, discovering her flaws and imperfections--and loving every single one of them.

It’s strange and oddly exhilarating. And Ellen is so--interested. Even know, Patty sees the young woman lost in thought as she traces paths across Patty’s skin, which she’s covered so many times before, with her hands and her mouth, and it’s amazing that she always finds something new to kiss, to touch.

Ellen’s knuckles dance low on Patty’s abdomen, where the blonde’s hip bones do a gentle lift and Patty gasps, both in arousal and surprise because she was most definitely not expecting that. Ellen’s mouth turns up at one side in a wicked little smirk before she shifts a little in bed and then lowers her head to place a feather light kiss on that same spot she’d just been touching.

Patty’s eyes flutter shut and the hand that’s been resting above her head suddenly finds the headboard as Ellen darts out her tongue and tastes that little erogenous zone neither knew existed until today.

How had she missed this before? Ellen wonders as she further shifts her body and openly rakes her teeth against Patty’s skin and then settles herself between the blonde’s legs.

Patty isn’t sure yet how they do this, go from zero to sixty the way they do, but she takes it because she isn’t sure how long it will be until they hate each other again. She moans a small, choked sound and her neck arches with the first swipe of Ellen’s tongue against her cunt. Now how did that happen? How did she go from counting freckles to eating her out again within minutes? It doesn’t matter much anyway because Ellen’s tongue is inside her now, firm and wet and Patty’s head shoots up with a loud enough gasp. Ellen’s dark hair is fanned out across Patty’s stomach and all she can do is feel. And as Ellen slowly drags her tongue anywhere and everywhere, Patty drops her head back against the pillow and feel she does.

The sheets are in the way and Ellen pushes then back behind her until they fall with a muted sound on the floor as Patty begins to make those hushed little noises that are something between a moan and a whimper and Ellen wants to see what she’s doing. Scooting back on her knees a little she brings her mouth up to one milky thigh and gently urges both legs further apart with a silent request. Patty obliges. That’s all it takes, a gentle touch on one thigh and a hearty lick of the opposite one and she falls open before Ellen. She takes in her fill and it doesn’t disappoint.

She likes Patty this way, vulnerable and obedient, waiting, just waiting for Ellen to say when and how. Ellen smiles down at what she can see a lot better now with the early morning light sneaking in through the curtains. Patty’s wet and swollen and her hips are not very discreetly writhing against the mattress and she’s panting. Their eyes meet and Ellen sees that pleading, desperate look in the older woman’s eyes. She could make her beg for it, make her tell her just how badly she wants it, but there’s time for that later.

There’s something smoldering to the way Ellen’s eyes darken so quickly and Patty lets out a groaning ’fuck’ at the sight of it right as Ellen’s head disappears back between her legs and she waits, just a second, just one long hot breath that Patty feels all the way inside her as if the woman’s breath alone could do it and she squirms, only to catch her breath when Ellen’s lips wrap around her clit and three merciless fingers fuck her breathless. Ellen fills her, drives Patty’s body in a way she isn’t sure any past lover has ever been able to do and it’s all a little frightening.

Not much scares Patty, but she knows death scares her. Death and this. She isn’t sure she’s ever been this--naked before, with all her barriers gone and just raw skin and bone. Vulnerable. Ellen cold hurt her, Patty knows. They can hurt each other, and have. Probably will again in the future. But she’s also never felt more human. She’s never been more aware of the blood pumping through her veins.

Suddenly, Patty’s desperate to make sure Ellen is right there with her, vulnerable and skin and bones. She wants to know Ellen understands. That they’ll destroy each other if they have. Panting her request she beckons Ellen to her and when their lips meet, it’s this needy colliding thing that seems to say everything about the way they work.

Moaning loudly against Patty’s lips, Ellen straddles the woman’s thigh and their mouths open wider. Ellen pushes her harder into the mattress, drowning in the way her body both succumbs to and fights back, her hips driving forward while Patty pulls her closer still, angling her own hips against Ellen’s firm thigh.

Ellen can feel her body begin to almost vibrate with her approaching orgasm and she’s almost angry that it’s coming so quickly, but her lungs are aching for air and she tears her lips from Patty’s, planting both hands on either side of the blonde’s head, her fingers fisting into the pillows as Patty steals the lead again. Because Ellen may be on top now, but it’s Patty controlling her, always it seems, and Ellen can’t help but fall into it. It feels too good not too. And then it happens, lights explode behind her eyes and she’s panting, moaning against Patty’s shoulder, her body stilling and then letting go as her orgasm hits her sharply and almost painfully. She feels it everywhere. She doesn’t know how long it’s been when it’s over but she knows Patty is still waiting for her own release underneath other.

Slowly and recovering enough to move, Ellen turns her mouth against Patty’s shoulder and bites down hard until she hears the blonde cry out in pleasurable pain and then Ellen’s lips are wrapped around Patty’s nipple and she’s back between her legs, anchoring her weight on one elbow as she drives three fingers inside her, hard and unrelenting and then Patty’s falling. She comes with a series of quiet groans and Ellen sees that familiar flush all along the older woman’s body that comes with her orgasm .

When Ellen flops down beside Patty, equally breathless and tired, Patty catches sight of the clock on the bedside table. It’s seven in the morning and they haven’t slept a wink. She groans and then turns back onto her side of the bed, brushing her own hair out of her face, her eyes up at the ceiling as she catches her breath. It’s just like them, she thinks. Just like them to turn something easy and almost normal into something brutal and so--them. She smiles to herself because it doesn’t bother her in the least and she doubts it bothers Ellen.

“Oh, shit--” Ellen says, sounding less like the enamored girl from earlier and more like the foul mouthed back talking brat Patty can’t seem to stay away from, “We didn’t sleep.”

“No,” Patty sighs. “We didn’t.”

There is a long, heavy silence between them. They don’t look at each other, they don’t touch. Until Ellen speaks.

“You’re beautiful, Patty.”

She doesn’t know where it comes from. Patty never sees these things coming, actually, these things that Ellen tells her. They seem so out of character and so out place sometimes that it’s as if they bolt right out of her mouth without much control. As if she’s holding on to them so tightly that they just boil up and spill out of her chest and that, Patty thinks, is just as good because it means they really are just plain skin and bone when it comes down to it. And they’re no less susceptible to matters of attraction, physical or otherwise, than anybody else. Perhaps it scares them both shitless, but at least they’ve got each other through the debris they leave behind.