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Samira smirked as she looked across the table. “He is, isn’t he?” she said.
Jack had been encouraging her for weeks to try to branch out and make more friends so she wouldn’t be stuck at home when he was on shift. The problem with everyone she’d tried to spend time with, up until this point, was that they hadn’t been able to keep her attention. Samira was not ashamed to admit that, with the exception of Jack and her patients, she found medical journals far more interesting, and a better use of her time, than talking to people. She’d been intrigued by her dinner companion, though, which took her by surprise.
It had all started when she’d heard Emma complaining to Joy as they debrided an unconscious patient’s wound. She’d stepped in to watch for a minute, as Joy was under her supervision that shift.
“I’m serious, she’s driving me crazy, even from hundreds of miles away,” Emma said, sounding almost whiny.
“Who?” Samira asked, watching Emma and Joy flinch in surprise. “Sorry, I thought you heard me walk up.”
“Dr. Mohan, sorry! Are we doing OK?” Emma asked, handing another piece of gauze to Joy. Samira glanced at the wound.
“Looking good. Who’s bothering you?” Samira asked again, a friendly smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, just my mom,” Emma answered, shaking her head as a blush creeped across her cheeks. “She’s really overbearing sometimes.”
“It’ll get better as she gets used to you being a functioning adult,” Joy offered.
“Maybe not,” Samira countered, letting a resentful chuckle fall from her lips. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a pessimist. My mom is just difficult, too.”
“She’s on me because I haven’t started hanging out with people outside of work yet. Like, I just moved here!” Emma grumbled.
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Samira told her, then as she turned to leave, added, “Keep up the good work, guys.”
Later that night, as night shift handoff began, she caught Jack’s eye. “What’s a non-creepy way to ask someone to get a drink some time?” she asked. She watched as utter amusement took over Jack’s expression.
“Looking to replace me?” he asked, his lip twitching upwards.
“You’re the one who wants me to make friends,” she reminded him.
“Mohan, you’re brilliant. I think you know how to ask ‘do you want to go get a drink with me?’” Samira rolled her eyes, loving but also finding it ridiculous that Jack still refused to call her anything besides Mohan or Dr. Mohan when they were at work. Basically everyone knew they were dating, so he did it out of respect, not secrecy.
Jack was about to gather the night shift for their usual beginning-of-shift chant, so she made her way to the break room for another cup of coffee. She still had quite a bit of charting to finish before she could leave and needed something to prevent her from falling asleep on the keyboard. Emma was crouched on the floor of the break room, digging through the fridge, when Samira entered.
“Hey,” Samira said, hoping not to surprise her again.
“Oh, hey! Just trying to get my lunchbag so I can go home. Someone shoved it way in the back,” Emma explained.
“The fridge is pretty much a warzone. Make sure you label your stuff even if it’s in your lunchbag,” Samira suggested.
“Oh jeez, I thought I was past that when I moved out of the dorms,” Emma joked. She finally freed her bag from the fridge and stood.
“Is that My Melody?” Samira asked, squinting at the fabric.
“Yeah! I think she’s so cute. You like Sanrio?” Emma asked, her face lighting up.
“I’ve got a Chococat t-shirt at home somewhere, but that’s pretty much the extent of it,” she replied. “I was part of an AAPI group in undergrad, though, and a lot of my friends were into Sanrio.”
“That’s so nice!” Emma told her. “It’s hard once you leave college and there’s not really many clubs to join.”
“Yeah, I was meaning to tell you, we should go out for drinks. We can swap overbearing mom stories,” Samira said casually. She did not feel casual, though. The fear of rejection and the adrenaline rush of putting herself out there were both making her start to sweat, and she focused on pouring her coffee so her hands wouldn’t clench into fists.
“Really?” Emma asked, her smile growing even wider. “I would love that!”
They swapped numbers and made plans to meet at the bar down the street from Samira’s (and Jack’s) apartment later that week.
“How are you liking Pittsburgh so far?” Samira asked, watching as Emma sipped on the mango margarita she’d recommended.
“Mm, it’s nice! Very different, but it feels like it’s my place, not my parents’, you know?” Emma answered. Her cheeks were already a bit flushed, and Samira wondered if she was feeling the alcohol already or if she was just a bit nervous.
“I do know. What about PTMC?” Samira followed up.
“I like it a lot, thank god. Obviously it’s different than clinicals, but I really like having more responsibility,” Emma explained. “Plus, everyone is super nice.”
“Well, that probably has more to do with your personality than anything, because there are plenty of not-so-nice people in the Pitt,” Samira joked. The waiter brought over their second round and they continued talking, each sharing what their hometowns were like compared to Pittsburgh, their favorite music, the most interesting cases they’d seen at work so far.
“So, who’s your favorite doctor? Besides me, of course,” Samira asked, half-joking and half-curious.
“Hmm. Mel’s really nice to me, so probably her. Maybe Dr. Abbot, but he almost never works days,” Emma said. That got Samira’s attention.
“Oh yeah? Abbot’s pretty good,” she responded, trying to gauge whether Emma was aware of their relationship.
“Yeah,” Emma agreed, then leaned in closer to whisper, “Plus he’s super hot.” Well, Samira thought, that answers that. Suddenly, her night with Emma had become much more interesting than a medical journal.
Samira smirked as she looked across the table. “He is, isn’t he?” she said.
Emma happily agreed when Samira invited her to come back to her apartment. As they approached her door, Samira said, “By the way, my boyfriend is probably home. I can make him go to the bedroom, though, if it makes you feel weird.”
“Oh, no, it’s OK. It’s his place, too, right?” Emma told her, her smile unwavering. Or at least it was, until she seemingly recognized the voice calling out, “Hey, babe!” from the kitchen.
“Here, get comfy,” Samira said, gesturing to the couch. Emma sat, keeping her eyes pointed down at her feet as Jack entered the room.
Jack entered and sat in the arm chair. “Emma, hey!” he said in the always-friendly tone he used with the nurses. “I didn’t realize you were coming, I could have gone out.” He looked up at Samira, shooting her a questioning look. Samira couldn’t blame him, as all of this was very out of character for her, but she didn’t want to explain. She didn’t really want to talk much at all.
“Emma doesn’t mind,” Samira said softly, sitting down on Jack’s lap and draping an arm around his shoulders. “You’re one of her favorite doctors, anyway.” She looked back across the room at Emma, curious to see how she would react.
Emma made eye contact with her and didn’t break it. She was clearly a bit embarrassed, but she wasn’t backing down, just as Samira had guessed.
Jack, still not picking up on anything out of the ordinary, looked from Samira to Emma. “Oh yeah? That’s nice of you,” he said, flashing her a polite smile.
“What else do you think about Dr. Abbot, Em?” Samira asked, keeping her voice soft so Emma hopefully wouldn’t think Samira was trying to be mean. “You can tell him.” Samira kept her eyes locked on Emma’s but she felt Jack’s squinting eyes on her. She’d grown used to the furrowed brows and tight lips he displayed when he was really trying to figure her out. He’d told her before that she caught on to things 10x faster than he did.
“Um,” Emma started, her voice barely a squeak. Her eyes quickly flashed to Jack, then back to Samira. “I just think that you’re very attractive, that’s all.”
Samira found it odd that Emma chose to look at her, not Jack, while she made her confession. “Me, or him?” she asked, placing a hand on Jack’s chest.
“Well, both, I guess,” Emma said, averting her eyes and focusing on the ceiling fan.
“Mira,” Jack whispered. “What are you doing?”
Samira ignored him completely. “Emma, have you ever slept with a woman?” she asked.
Emma whipped her head back to look at Samira. “No!” she exclaimed.
“Have you ever kissed one?” Samira continued.
“No,” Emma answered once again, but with a calmer tone. Her face was significantly more flushed than it had been at the bar, and this time Samira wondered if it was from embarrassment or desire.
“Do you want to?” she asked.
“Samira, stop,” Jack insisted. “You’re making her uncomfortable.”
“Are you uncomfortable, Emma?” Samira asked. Emma shook her head immediately. “Good. What do you want, Em?”
“What do you mean?” she asked quietly.
“Do you want to touch me? Do you want me to touch you? Do you want to touch Jack?” Samira listed options to take some pressure off of Emma.
“Babe, what the hell-” Jack began.
“Maybe,” Emma interrupted. “Maybe, I could just watch. At first, anyway?”
Samira nodded, then placed a hand on Jack’s cheek to turn him back towards her. He’d been staring at Emma, completely stunned by her response. She pressed her lips to his, keeping her eyes open so she could stay aware of Emma’s reactions. She ran her hands over his arms, squeezing his bicep, mostly for Emma’s benefit, so she could watch the muscles flex.
Jack became a willing participant practically immediately, groping Samira as if there was no-one else in the room. He pressed wet kisses on her jawline before moving down to suck on her neck. Samira gasped and threw her head back for only a second, but when she opened her eyes again, the energy of the room had changed. Emma was sitting fully upright, no longer trying to sink into the cushions, and was staring with her mouth slightly agape.
Samira removed herself from Jack’s grip, then walked to the couch, still keeping some distance between herself and Emma. She pulled her shirt and sports bra off at the same time, letting both Emma and Jack stare at her breasts.
“Your turn,” Samira said softly, giving Emma a nod of encouragement. Emma slowly unbuttoned her sweater, revealing a sheer lacy white bra. Samira glanced at Jack, whose eyes were still locked on her. “Look at her, Jack. It’s OK,” she told him.
Samira’s eyes returned to Emma’s face to observe how she would respond to Jack’s heated gaze. Emma looked down at her bra, then back to Samira, but never met Jack’s eye.
“I’m going to help you now, alright?” Samira explained. “Take your bra off and then mirror me. Can you do that?”
Emma nodded fervently, unclasping her bra and looking back at Samira’s breasts. Samira slowly raised a hand to cup her breast, watching as Emma mirrored the action on her own body. They both lightly massaged their breasts, before Samira used her thumb to flick her hardened nipple. Emma repeated the action a moment later, letting out the sweetest sigh Samira had ever heard. They each replicated the actions on the other breast before Samira raised a hand again, this time to her mouth. She put her lips around two fingers, demonstrating how to get them completely covered in spit, and waited for Emma to do the same. Samira quickly peeked at Jack, who was palming himself through his pants as he looked back and forth between the two women on his couch.
Samira released her fingers with a pop and brought them back to one of her nipples, pinching it harder than they had been previously. Emma whined as she tried to keep up, but it was clear she was either more sensitive or somehow even more turned on than Samira was.
“OK, Em. Your pants now,” Samira whispered. Emma’s eyes flew back open in surprise.
“Are you sure?” she asked, just as quiet as Samira.
“Mhmm, you’re doing so good. Isn’t she, Jack?” Samira replied, keeping her eyes on Emma, not wanting to miss a single expression on her face.
“So good,” Jack repeated, his voice gruff. Emma squirmed at the sound of Jack’s voice. Interesting.
The room was completely silent as Emma slid her jeans down her legs. Besides the scrunchies in her braids, the only thing Emma was still wearing was a pair of pink cotton underwear with a little bow on the front. Samira took her leggings off next, then began to instruct Emma again.
They both traced their fingers along the edge of their panties, starting near their hips and carefully moving towards their centers. Samira trailed her middle finger down towards her pussy, slowly opening her legs further. She waited for Emma to mimic her, then began to rub slow circles through the fabric, just above her clit.
Emma’s breathing quickened as she touched herself through the panties. Samira wondered if they were damp yet.
“Does that feel good?” Samira asked.
“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, letting out a shaky breath.
“What do you think, Jack?” Samira continued. “Do you want to take off Emma’s panties?”
Samira heard Jack mutter, “fuck,” as Emma finally made eye contact with him. Samira almost laughed as she watched Emma’s hand move faster once she looked at him.
“Is that OK with you, Emma?” Jack asked. Emma nodded, but that wasn’t enough for Jack, Samira knew. “Use your words,” he scolded.
Emma’s cheeks flamed as she whispered, “It’s OK with me.” Her breath hitched as Jack hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled it down. He moved to Samira and pulled her panties down as well, placing kisses down her legs.
“OK, Em, do you want Jack’s hands or Jack’s mouth?” Samira asked, her own voice starting to shake from her arousal.
“His… mouth. If it’s OK,” Emma said, looking to Jack before making eye contact with Samira again.
“Lay back,” Samira instructed, placing a pillow behind Emma’s head so she was partially propped up as Samira climbed on top of her.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” Emma started to pant.
“You still OK?” Samira asked, her body stilling completely.
“Yes, I just. I feel so close already,” Emma said, her brows knit together.
“That’s OK, baby,” Samira soothed. “You can come more than once, you know.”
Samira began to move again, using one hand to massage Emma’s breast before she pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. She pulled back slightly, waiting for a response, and Emma pulled her back down for a hungry kiss. Samira moaned into Emma’s mouth as Jack slid two fingers inside of her. Samira propped herself on her knees with her ass in the air, still kissing Emma, but giving Jack better access to Emma’s pussy.
Jack was still curling his fingers inside of Samira when he gave his first tentative lick to Emma’s folds. Emma bit Samira’s bottom lip, which resulted in both of them crying out.
“You’re fucking dripping, baby,” Jack groaned. Once again, the sound of his voice sent ripples through Emma’s body, arching her back off the couch.
“Try to stay still,” Samira murmured, moving her hand from Emma’s breast to her hip, applying light but firm pressure to keep her in place. Samira wondered if Jack would even have to touch Emma’s clit for her to come; she seemed like she was on the edge already. Samira wasn’t far off either, Jack’s thumb rubbing her own clit, his fingers thrusting in and out of her, Emma’s quivering body beneath hers.
Samira’s brows furrowed in confusion when Emma let out an actual scream. “What happened?” Samira asked, almost completely out of breath.
“His tongue,” Emma gasped. “Nobody’s put their tongue inside me before.”
Her admission drew a low groan from Jack, and Samira knew from experience that Emma’s entire core was vibrating as a result.
“Come on his tongue, Emma,” Samira instructed. The cries Emma let out as she orgasmed were obscenely hot, Samira decided, but also unbelievably loud for such a soft spoken woman. Samira made the executive decision to muffle the noise by bringing her breast to Emma’s mouth, and to Samira’s surprise, Emma began to suck with no hesitation, even flicking her tongue over the nipple. Emma brought her hand up to pinch the other one, and before Samira could fully recognize what was happening, she was crying out Emma’s name while she came on Jack’s fingers.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Jack grunted, finally removing his mouth from Emma to lick Samira’s release off of his fingers.
“What about you?” Emma asked meekly.
“What about me?” he questioned.
“Don’t you want to come?” she clarified.
Jack’s eyes found Samira, clearly waiting for some indication on what the boundaries were regarding his own pleasure.
“Sorry, Em, but he can’t fuck you,” Samira answered.
“But, couldn’t I touch you while you guys…” Emma trailed off, seeming embarrassed by her own suggestion.
Samira said nothing, she simply began to pull Jack’s pants down. She caught the look of surprise in Emma’s eye, and, feeling defensive on his behalf, said, “It’s just a prosthetic. Not a big deal.”
Emma shook her head so quickly her braids started to swing. “No, it’s not that. It’s…” Her eyes trailed to the bulge in Jack’s underwear. “That.”
Samira smirked, rewarding Emma by guiding her hand to Jack’s boxers. She wasn’t about to let him fuck someone else, but the look on Emma’s face as she touched him would be priceless. Jack’s jaw clenched as Emma’s small palm rested on the fabric above his dick, moving ever so lightly.
“You can kiss him, Emma,” Samira said, her voice low.
“I’d rather kiss you, I think,” Emma whispered. She gasped as Jack’s dick twitched against her hand.
“I’d rather she kiss you, too, for what it’s worth,” Jack said, touching a hand to Samira’s cheek.
“OK,” Samira agreed. She stood and pulled Emma from the couch, guiding her to the bedroom. Samira laid back on the bed, letting Emma climb on top of her this time, and stared up at her. Emma’s curls were falling out of her braids, hanging messily around her face, and the sweat on her chest made her look as if she was glistening in the lamplight. Emma lowered herself onto Samira, but didn’t kiss her mouth. She kissed down her jaw, then went straight to the place Jack had sucked earlier, and added her own hickey on top.
Samira let out a breathy moan, grabbing Emma by the back of the head and pulling her back in roughly for another kiss. She slid her tongue into Emma’s mouth and felt a shock go through her body as Emma moved her hand to Samira’s clit. Emma rubbed quick circles with gentle pressure until Samira’s hips started to buck and Samira grabbed her wrist.
“Move up here,” she told her, and Emma hesitantly complied. She was sitting on Samira’s face, facing Samira’s pussy, and for a second, Samira considered telling her they were going to 69. But by this point, she desperately wanted to be fucked, and Jack was ready and willing to make it happen.
“Watch Jack, OK?” Samira told Emma, then pulled her hips down so she could begin licking Emma’s still dripping, and now swollen, pussy. Jack lifted Samira’s legs and lined himself up with her entrance. He made eye contact with Emma as he slid into Samira’s pussy, then immediately threw his head back. He continued to thrust into her roughly, not bothering to start slow.
Samira felt Emma’s clit throbbing as she ground down on her face and felt herself getting close already. She didn’t know what it was about watching someone else get off from the sight of her boyfriend, but it was possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced.
“Oh my fucking god, I can’t look at you guys if you want me to last,” Jack said, taking breaks between words to moan. He made breathy, whiny sounds, almost whimpers, whenever he was close to coming, which drove Samira, and apparently Emma, crazy.
“Please, please, please,” Emma cried out. Samira didn’t even know what she was begging for. She was too wrapped up in her own pleasure. She felt herself tipping over the edge, and sucked hard on Emma’s clit as her pussy clenched around Jack. Emma let out another scream as her legs shook around Samira’s head, and Jack grabbed onto Samira’s hand before he buried himself deep inside her and let go.
Emma was the first to move, limply sliding off Samira to give her more room to breathe. Jack pulled out of Samira once his breathing had settled, then used one finger to swipe up her folds.
“Open,” he commanded, then placed his finger in Emma’s mouth so she could taste the mix of Samira’s release with his own. Emma looked down at Samira as she sucked, who was staring back with a tired smile.
When Jack walked to the bathroom, Emma snuggled closer to Samira, whispering, “I’m going to go now.”
“No way,” Samira replied. “Stay.”
Samira woke in a pool of sweat the next morning. Emma and Jack were on either side of her, with both of their arms draped across her. She knew she couldn’t stay like that much longer or she’d overheat, but before she tried to move them, she laid back and closed her eyes again. Maybe just a minute longer.