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Erica Irene Cartman was the kind of girl who dotted her i’s with little hearts, sprayed perfume on her inner thigh, and showed up drunk to cheerleading practice. Every. Single. Time.
Kylie Broflovski was not. Head down and clothes wrinkle-free, Kylie was not the kind of girl who snuck out of her hotel room the night of her basketball game. She was good. Until Erica got involved. Once Erica was involved, everything that Kylie was supposed to do went out the window. Story of her fucking life.
And so, there she was, standing outside a shitty gas station bathroom to “keep watch” while Cartman stopped to piss for the third time tonight. At this rate, her plan to sneak into a club downtown wouldn’t come to fruition solely because they would never make it to the damn building. But Kylie digressed. This was all fucking stupid anyways.
Sneaking out was stupid. Her game was going to be early tomorrow. So disrupting her sleep? Extra stupid. The tight pleather skirt and baby tee that Cartman insisted she wear? Slutty and stupid. Her face felt heavy under the make up the other girl had applied. She felt like a clown, no matter how much Cartman argued that she looked “good for once in her life”. No matter how many pictures they snapped on Erica’s cheap digital camera that would look “so cunt” on her highly curated early 2000s themed neocity. She groaned, turning to the bathroom door and knocking. “Cartman? You finished yet?”
“Don’t rush me, Jew!” She called through the door, her voice pitched and nasal. “It’s fucking gross in here. I had to layer like fifty sheets on the toilet lid before I could even hover.” Kylie grimaced at the mental image and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wall near the door.
“Fine. But it’s almost midnight, asshole. We’re not gonna-“ The door slammed open and Cartman eyed her, standing under the yellow light with her fists balled on her wide hips. A cheetah print mini dress and red pumps to match the cherry red lipstick she wore. Kylie stared back. “Did you wash your hands? I didn’t hear the sink-“
Cartman stuck her bottom lip out into a dramatic pout. “Ew! Of course I did.” She huffed and Kylie narrowed her eyes.
“I didn’t hear it. Do it again.” She insisted and Erica threw her head back with a groan.
“Jesus! You’re such a fucking mom-“ But she turned on her heel and stepped back into the bathroom, flicking the sink on to wash her hands. Once she finished, she lifted her hands in front, flipping them back and forth to show off the front and back. “See? Sparkling.” Kylie gave a short nod.
“Whatever. Are you ready now?” She asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“I,” Erica whistled. “Was born ready.”
The nightclub was stupid too.
Kylie thought there was no way that Erica’s convoluted lies would get them through the door. Turns out that men are fucking perverts and all Erica needed to do was bat her lashes and push her tits up at the doorman. No more questions asked.
Kylie hated it here. She especially hated that Cartman seemed to thrive in the environment, pushed into the throng of sweaty dancers, spinning around and moving her hips like she owned the place. How often did she do this?
A flash of concern at the idea that maybe her offers at the door weren’t always talk. If Kylie wasn’t there with her, nor Stephanie or Ken, then…
She pursed her lips. Not her problem, really, if Cartman wanted to put herself in a dangerous situation. She leaned against the club wall, scratching a bit at the scab under her elbow. She’d earned that one earlier this week when the same girl convinced her to help her save a stray cat.
Her prize? Cartman laughing when she cried about being scratched. And a rabies shot. Ugh.
“Hey, palm tree.” Cartman prodded her side and Kylie jolted, nearly spilling the drink Cartman grabbed her. Some fruity thing that Erica said she’d love. She hadn’t tasted it, mostly out of spite.
“What?” She blinked. Erica tilted her head to one side, soft brown curls spilling over her shoulder. Nothing like Kylie’s, which were tight and springy, and far too difficult to manage. Erica was lucky and undeserving, hers a pretty delicate sort of curl that never seemed to tangle or look unkempt even when she was hopping fences or passed out in drainpipes. Her eyes were huge, almost too big for her face. For anyone else, it would look endearing but Kylie knew Cartman, so the doe-eyed look had no effect on her. Except in convincing her to sneak out tonight. ONE time. Sue her.
“You’re supposed to dance.” Cartman hummed. “You look like you’re gonna shoot the place up if you just stand menacingly against the wall like that.” Kylie sputtered, her face flushing to match her hair, and she glared at the shorter girl.
“Fuck you! I don’t look menacing-“ She argued and Cartman rolled her eyes.
“You’re, like, staring me down! Nobody else even wants to dance with me anymore because they look up and all they see is a 6’1 lesbian looking with murderous intent.” She flicked Kylie in the nose and Kylie bit back the urge to literally shriek. Erica grinned at Kylie’s attempt to draw in a slow, stabilizing breath.
“I’m bisexual.” She said calmly, rather than address any other aspect of the accusation. Erica quirked a brow.
“Oh, right. Sure. You’re a bisexual.” Cartman snorted. “My bad. Murderous sapphic then.”
“Stop-“ She let out a frustrated huff. “Stop avoiding saying bisexual! I’ve dated boys!”
“I don't think dating my ex boyfriend in third grade actually counts, Kyls.” Erica smirked. “Anyone in the last decade?”
“Fuck off.” She crossed her arms tighter over her chest. Erica rolled her eyes.
“Sensitive. Whatever, not the point.” Cartman pushed one of her curls back from forehead, sweat slicked. “Come dance with me.”
Kylie snorted. “I am not doing that, Cartman.”
“Why not? It’s a club. It’s basically all you do in here. Dance, drink, blah blah blah. Don’t be such a lameass.” Erica fluttered her lashes at her and Kylie swallowed the urge to hit her in the face.
Kylie hadn’t indulged that particular instinct since sixth grade when Erica stole her first homecoming date from under her. She confronted her in the breezeway and the next thing they both knew, they were a bloody spiral, a mess of punches and kicks (and a well placed bite, courtesy of Cartman right on Kylie’s upper arm; still had the scar), a circle of preteens surrounding them screaming ‘bitch fight’.
In the end, Erica “got bored” of the boy anyway and ditched him the night of. Ken later told Kylie that it was actually on principle. He totally dumped my friend for another chick! Fucking loser. Nevermind that she had been the other chick.
“If I do one dance, can we leave?” Kylie asked. “It’s really late, and I have my game in the morning. We both have the game.” She muttered.
“I just wave some confetti balls around! Chill.” Cartman considered the offer. “Three dances! And then we can go.” Erica did not just ‘wave some confetti balls around’. She was an excellent dancer, and she was their best base. It was nothing to scoff at, throwing girls in the air and catching them like that. She was strong enough that they often had her alone with a single flier, usually something reserved for a male cheerleader. But Erica wasn’t like Kylie. She didn’t take her sport seriously and yet, she managed to be exceptional anyway. How is that fair?
Kylie groaned. “Fine. Three dances exactly.” Erica smirked, catching her wrist and dragging Kylie into the crowd of gyrating bodies.
Kylie never liked dancing all that much. She found it awkward and worried too much about how she looked while doing it. Occasionally, if she’d had enough to drink, she could loosen up enough to enjoy it, but right now she was painfully sober. Erica didn’t seem to notice nor mind, twisting around so her back was flush against her, pulling Kylie’s hands down to her hips.
Touchy, but that was typical. Cartman hung all over her friends their entire life, trying to make up for the lack of affection she received from her father, too busy ‘making a living’ to give her anything real. Just the best toys, and eventually the best make up, and a new shiny truck in her favorite color and- Kylie grunted, Cartman pressing back against her, swaying to the beat. She grinned back at her over her shoulder. “Relax, ginger.”
Kylie tried, leaning into Erica, following her lead as she twisted them to the music, her hands loose on her hips. Erica bent forward slightly, rolling her hips back, a little wiggle as she straightened and Kylie imagined throwing herself off a bridge so she wouldn’t have to ever interrogate the little pulse of heat that ran between her legs.
Kylie made a point of not interrogating anything when it came to Cartman too closely over the last year. Not the fact that she now spent far more time with her than Stephanie, nor the fact they had begun to have regular sleepovers to play video games and watch movies, nor the fact that she was, in fact, watching the random men crowded around her friend with murderous intent.
Her friend. Cartman laughed and the sound bubbled over Kylie’s brain like novocaine, making her dumb enough to mimic every rhythmic movement she goaded her into. One dance. Then two.
By the third, Kylie thought she might actually mourn the loss of her body heat, despite how badly she was sweating under the heavy club lights. She imagined the cold breeze outside would feel fantastic but nothing could feel as fantastic as Erica’s soft, squishy curves pressing up against her did.
Again: the bridge was a great idea. When Kylie drowned in the lake at the bottom, she’d probably open her eyes in some version of Cartman’s afterschool special heaven where there was room for not only Kylie, very Jewish, but also Stephanie, who denounced Christ, and Ken, who never believed to begin with.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip when Cartman twisted in her arms to face her, her brows knit slightly together, soft face flush with exertion. Three. “…that’s your last dance.” Kylie released her hips, stepping back and Erica blinked at her, rolling her eyes.
“Seriously!? You’re such a fucking spoil sport. I thought you’d get into it enough that we could stay a little longer!” She complained, bottom lip poking out again. Kylie shook her head.
“We need to get back to the hotel.” Cartman groaned.
Kylie watched as Cartman threw her shoes over the fence first, gearing herself up to climb over. “Are you sure you don’t need a boost?”
“I’ve got it, Jew.” Cartman huffed, pulling herself up and over the fence, Kylie following close behind. Kylie dropped to the floor with a soft thump, shaking her body out. Tennyshoes were the better move. Cartman bent down to pick up her pumps and Kylie looked away quickly, clearing her throat.
“Alright, well. Goodnight.” Kylie said.
Cartman whipped around. “What the fuck? You’re not gonna walk me back to my room?” She eyed Kylie, her nose wrinkling in disdain. Kylie blinked.
“Think you’ll get lost, fatass?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Erica rolled her eyes.
“You’re literally the worst girlfriend ever.” Cartman clicked her tongue and Kylie froze, a wash of cold panic flooding over her.
“Huh?” She blinked.
“You heard me.” Cartman waved a hand in her direction. “Like the worst I’ve ever had.” Kylie blanched.
“Since when am I your girlfriend?!” She squeaked, her arms dropping to her sides, her hands balling into fists.
Cartman blinked. “Are you joking?” Her face immediately contorted in rage. “You’re joking, right?!” Kylie stared back at her, opening and closing her mouth in shock.
“I’m not your girlfriend!” Kylie laughed in disbelief. Cartman sputtered.
“The hell you’re not! What do you think we’ve been doing for the last year?!” She jiggled, flouncing herself forward, her fists balled at her sides as well.
Kylie frowned. “I- hanging out?! I don’t know! But you can’t just decide someone is your girlfriend, fatass! You have to ask! We haven’t even kissed!” At least, not reallly.
“I just thought we were going slow cause you’re a weird prude, Khalie! You run off everyone else! I go to all your games!” She snipped.
“YOU’RE A CHEERLEADER! You have to be there!” Kylie shouted and then clamped her mouth shut. A long pause. “I can’t fucking believe this right now. What do you mean you thought we were together?!”
“I didn’t think shit! We are, and you’re just a major commitmentphobe!” Cartman argued.
“You’re so fucking-“ Kylie threw her hands up. “I am not commitmentphobic! You just didn’t tell me anything!”
“You are so!” She pressed her lips together. “Your parents aren’t even divorced, what’s your excuse?!”
“I’m not making excuses! Keep your voice down, we’re going to get caught-“ She flustered, fighting the urge to stomp her feet.
“I don’t care if we get caught!” Cartman glared. “I hope we do, actually, you bastard! How can you say we’re not together?! You’re so mean!” She shouted.
“I’m mean?! You’re a menace! You stole from a homeless guy on the way to the club!” Kylie shrieked.
“I stole my twenty back because he catcalled me when I walked away! That’s what that asshole gets!” Cartman took a step forward. “I should have kicked him in the teeth, too!”
“He chased us for two blocks! You’re insane, and reckless, and we shouldn’t even be out right now because again I have a game in the morning that you might not care about, but I do!” Kylie gritted her teeth.
“If you hate me, then just say so!” She shoved hard at Kylie’s shoulders.
“I always say it!” Kylie hissed, stumbling a bit, and then jolted forward, shoving the shorter girl back. “And I would rather die than be your girlfriend!”
Cartman froze, for a beat. “Then die!” She hiccuped, turning on her heel, storming down the long hall toward the hotel rooms.
Kylie stared in shock. “Hey! Don’t walk away from me!” She hurried after her, catching her elbow. Cartman whipped around, sneering.
“Didn’t you hear me?! Die! Go jump in the pool! I hope you drown.” She yanked her elbow hard.
“I- you can’t just drop shit like that on me and then expect me to-“ Kylie stammered.
“Fuck off!” Cartman kept walking, and Kylie scrambled after her.
“Okay, wait- that was too much. I’m sorry, okay?! I can tell you’re upset, so just let me try again-“ Cartman shoved her nose into the air, pointedly looking away. Kylie groaned. “You can hear me! Don’t ignore me. I didn’t mean to make you cry-“
“I’m not crying.” She turned onto the next hall, pulling her room key from between her breasts. She scanned the card against the door, popping it open and stepping inside. She tried to pull it shut, and Kylie slammed her foot between the door and the doorframe, yelping. “Move.”
“Cartman, don’t be like that!” Kylie shoved her shoulder into the door frame and Cartman opened it slightly, trying to slam it closed on her again. Kylie grabbed the door, forcing it back open, stumbling forward into the room.
“Wow. Great. So you’re in, happy?” Erica turned from Kylie, walking towards her bed, pulling a hooped earring from her ear, dropping it onto the floor.
Kylie shut the door quietly behind her. “Not particularly, no, but that came out harsher than I meant, okay? I’m not trying to hurt your feelings- stop getting undressed, I’m talking to you!” Erica ignored her, tugging her dress up over her head, throwing it to the side.
Erica turned to face her, a ratty white bra with a little hole near the armpit. She slipped her thumbs under the waist band of her underwear. “I have shit to do tomorrow as you’ve dramatically reminded me like every 10 minutes for the past three hours, and you’re not my girlfriend, so if you could go, that’d be great!” She yanked them down and Kylie immediately slammed her hands over her eyes, face burning bright red.
“Jesus, Cartman!” Kylie shook her head hard, keeping her hands tight over her face. Stretchy fabric hit her chest with a soft thwack, and Kylie nearly passed out at the realization it probably meant that she was fully naked now. “Erica!” She heard drawers open and close and then the squeak of the cheap hotel bed springs as Cartman climbed in.
“Stop covering your eyes, you big baby.” Cartman rolled onto her side and Kylie peeked through two fingers. Once assured that Erica was in her nightgown, she lowered her hands entirely.
“I’m sorry.” Kylie repeated. “I didn’t mean to freak out. I was just caught off guard-“
“No take backs now.” Erica stared, tugging her blanket over herself.
Kylie sighed heavily. “I’m not trying to take it back!”
She shifted in her bed. “Right. Leave.” She tugged her blanket over her head. Kylie frowned.
“Well, I can’t leave because you’re crying.” Kylie pointed out. “What kind of friend would I be if I did-“ Cartman reached a single hand out from under the blanket and threw the Bible on the end table directly at her. It was a shockingly accurate throw considering she couldn’t see, and the Bible thumped Kylie right in the chest. “Ow!”
“You’re the one who made me cry, so you can’t fix it, Broflovski! That’s not how it works.” The blanket lump scolded. “Seriously. Walk into traffic. Go swallow all your diabetes medicine or whatever. Just leave me alone.”
Silence fell over the room, save for the few sniffles.
Kylie stared at the Bible at her feet. Objectively, Erica should have more hang ups about this whole thing than she should. More theological basis- more risk at home too. Larry wasn’t the worst father there ever was, but he did have a weird emotional incest thing going on with Cartman, and probably would take the gay thing personally.
So what the fuck was Kylie’s problem, really?
Had she and Cartman been dating and she was just commitment adverse and terrible? She thought back over the last year and, for once, did not immediately halt any wrong think the moment it entered her brain.
She guessed they were spending a lot of time together. The sleepovers might have been a little charged sometimes. Kylie did watch Erica sleep sometimes, but didn’t everyone watch their friends sleep? It’s not like she was the only one. Girls are pretty, in general. They’re easy to stare at. And sure, sometimes she stared at her while she was awake too, but that was because Erica was an attention whore who got off on making Kylie look.
They hadn’t even kissed which was a point for Kylie’s defense. The amount of time they spent “sharing lipstick” or shotgunning might be a point for Cartman though.
Girlfriends go on dates! She’d never taken Cartman on a date. They only went on one-on-one friend hangs! To the movies, to the unaccredited zoo just outside South Park, and to Casa Bonita for Erica’s birthday that year.
Kylie stared at the blanket lump a little harder, the realization slowly settling over her. Oh no. Oh no.
“Oh fuck.” Kylie groaned. “Shit, Erica, I’m sorry.” She stepped close to the bed. “I’m an asshole.”
“And a sneaky Jew too.” Erica hiccuped, tugging the blankets tighter around herself.
Kylie let the antisemitism go, a clear regression to old tactics. Try to hurt her back, hurt her worse. Something that Erica had mostly grown out of, but NPD was a beast, and she wasn’t perfect. “I really didn't realize.”
“You’re the worst person actually. Not just girlfriend. The worst person ever.” Erica murmured, miserable.
“…” Kylie tried tugging the blanket down, and Cartman put up a weak fight, knuckles white with her grip. “Let go.” She said. “I don’t want to argue with the blanket.”
“Eat shit.” Cartman’s grip loosened enough that Kylie could drag the blanket down from her face. She was splotchy and puffy, her big stupid eyes rimmed red and full of tears. She’d always been a snotty crier, and Kylie couldn’t help but think about that time she’d punched her saving Isa and she cried for an hour. A high pitch wailing. At least she wasn’t squealing right now. Kylie’s heart clenched, and she suddenly felt embarrassed at how easily she ignored it all this time.
“I am your girlfriend.” Kylie admitted. “I’m sorry I said I wasn’t, I’m…”
“A dumbass.” Erica supplied.
Kylie blanched. “Whatever. Yeah. A dumbass. So stop crying. It’s annoying.” Cartman sniffled and looked to the side.
“You’re annoying. And I hope you lose tomorrow.” Cartman pouted. Kylie deserved that. She wouldn’t lose though: she was actually really good. Even on limited sleep.
“…scoot over.” Kylie forced herself onto the bed next to Erica, jolting her to the side, Cartman scooting until they were both tucked under the blanket.
“Thought you were worried about getting in trouble.” Erica glared.
“Getting caught in your classmate’s room is very different from getting caught at a club downtown.” Kylie pointed out, eyeing the shorter girl. “Do you seriously want me to leave still?”
Erica pursed her lips and flopped so that her back was facing Kylie. A no. Kylie shifted so she was flush against her back, as she’d been many nights before, burrowing her face into her soft curls.
Erica huffed, wiggling herself back against her, pushing her bottom up against her hips. “I’m still pissed.” She said.
“Okay.” Kylie hummed, pushing her face closer, tucking her nose against Cartman’s neck. “So, if we’re girlfriends…” Kylie tucked her fingers up under the edge of her nightgown, tapping against her thigh.
“Stop saying if, you bastard!” She elbowed her hard and Kylie gasped, writhing a bit at the pain. “God.”
Kylie dropped her head back onto Cartman’s shoulder, swallowing the pain, and let her hand drift upward. “I’m flirting you dick-“
“You’re bad at it. Apparently, like you’re bad at everything else.” She huffed, letting out a soft noise when Kylie slid her other hand under her side, pulling her back so she was lifted slightly onto her, rolling her so she’d face her. Cartman’s legs dropped over either side of Kylie’s hips and she wrinkled her nose. “You could warn me!”
“You’re fine. I can lift you easily, fatass.” She bounced Cartman on her hips, once, twice. “See?” Erica dropped her hand onto Kylie’s stomach, trying not to fall off, glaring.
“Don’t do that.” Erica scolded. Kylie grabbed at her wrist, trying to drag her forward, and Cartman complied despite herself, her lips crashing into the other girls. Kylie parted them eagerly, letting her tongue trace the inside of her mouth. Erica jerked back, breathing heavily against her mouth. “What, need some lipstick?” Kylie tugged her forward again.
She ran her hands up Cartman’s back, her nails tracing lightly over her skin. Erica’s obsession with fake tan was new, but it had made it’s imprint on every white piece of clothing either girl owned: Cartman’s bra and Kylie’s baby tee were no exception. Erica’s hands ran up Kylie’s sides, tugging it up over her head.
Kylie nearly knocked her head into the bed frame, dropping back onto the pillow with a flop. Erica grinned down at her, eyes flicking to her chest. “Nice.” Kylie pursed her lips, eyes glancing to the side.
“Yeah?” She grunted. “Happy to hear it.” Erica’s grin only grew wider, her fingers running up her abdomen, splaying her hands out over her breasts, tweaking a nipple. Kylie hissed, pressing her teeth together. “Okay, that’s enough.”
Cartman pouted. “Awh, but they’re cute! Don’t be stingy.” Kylie flushed all the way up to her hairline, and tugged at the front of her nightgown.
“Take yours out.” She demanded and Cartman rolled her eyes, tugging her nightie over her head as well, tossing it onto the ground with the other discarded clothing. Her breasts jiggled as they fell from under the soft fabric, teardrop-shaped, and at least three times what Kylie had to offer. She wanted simultaneously to bite her and kiss her, and so she settled for tugging her forward and licking a wet stripe up between her breasts. She squealed in surprise, attempting to jerk back, but Kylie tightened her grip.
Cartman groaned, dropping a hand onto Kylie’s shoulder as she nipped up one side of her chest, her mouth closing around her nipple and sucking hard. She squirmed in her lap, gasping at the flick of her tongue, the free hand tangling into her curls and tugging. “Christ-“
Kylie moaned in response, little vibrations sending sparks of pleasure up her chest, and Cartman tightened her hands in her hair, grinding her hips eagerly against her pelvis. Kylie switched to the other, sucking and biting down softly on the pebbled nub. Erica panted, shifting her hips higher into Kylie’s lap, wiggling her center forward, searching for better friction.
Kylie pulled off her nipple with a wet pop, pushing Erica back so she landed flat on her back, adjusting so she was on her knees. She scooted back, clumsily pinching Erica’s thigh fat with her palm. “Ouch!”
“Shit, sorry.” She apologized, cupping the spot and giving soft rub before bouncing Cartman a little further down the bed. Cartman propped herself up onto her elbows, staring up at her, as she pushed Erica’s legs up.
“What’re you doing?” She asked, tilting her head to one side, Kylie pressing a kiss on her stomach, and then her hip.
“What does it look like?” She muttered against her skin, peppering another kiss on the mound just below her draping belly.
“Seriously?” Cartman blinked rapidly. “You wanna?” Another one of those huge grins.
“Dude, can you stop acting so shocked every time I do anything?” Kylie pushed her thighs apart roughly, fingers digging into her thighs. Erica shuddered, smile not faltering.
“Sorry- I just kind of thought we would just hold hands and kiss until you passed peacefully in your sleep, still a virgin.” She laughed. “Did you seriously just not get what was going on with us or-?” Kylie gave her thigh a light smack and Cartman yelped, laughing louder.
“Don’t be a bitch! I’m making up for it now! Now shut up so I can eat you out.” She huffed, and buried her face between the brunette’s thighs, opening her mouth against her. Cartman mewled, one heel kicking up onto Kylie’s back, grabbing her hair once again and pulling her closer.
Kylie drooled against her, licking and sucking at her clit, hands finding her hips to grind her against her face. She tasted intensely of sweat and slick; it should have been off-putting. Kylie had always been such a prissy girl, needing to immediately shower after practices and games, hating dirt and muck and anything too messy. But god, she really really loved Cartman’s mess. She pressed herself closer, eager, desperate, mouth wet with her excitement. She hoped her nose might actually come in handy for once- too big for her face, making her woefully insecure. Much like everything did, if she were honest. She shook her head against her, moaning, fighting the urge to come up for air.
Cartman moaned in delight, playing with her curls, her head thrown back. Her mouth, pretty and pink with her lipstick half smeared off from their kissing, was gaping, spit-slicked. Kylie whined at the sight, closing her eyes tightly so she didn’t cream her pants like a fucking boy, and flicked her tongue against her clit. Again, again, again.
Thank you Kenny for years of pudding cup eating competitions during lunchtime.
Kylie decided she would buy that asshole anything he wanted when she felt Cartman’s thighs clamp down around her head, her body bucking spastically beneath her, a long, earthy moan punching out of her. She didn’t stop, continuing to lick and suck until Erica pushed her head away roughly, whining that it was too much. She popped herself up on her elbows, smiling at her, licking her cum from her lips.
“Good?” Kylie asked, dropping her hand onto Cartman’s thigh. She nodded, still panting, her breasts heaving. Kylie had read once that your lips were the same color as your nipples. It sounded like bullshit, but in Erica’s case, it was true, especially in their irritated, bitten state. Kylie’s insides pulsed. “Can I fuck you?”
“You’re not one of those people who always has a strap in your back pocket, are you?” Cartman murmured, teasing between soft huffs. “It’s pretty presumptuous, even for you.” Kylie wasn’t, but briefly, she really wished she was. The mental image of Cartman riding a strap-on made her moan out loud. Erica snorted and kicked her heel into her side. “Pervert.”
“I’ll just use my fingers.” She said, scooting up against her body, their chest pressing together. “Yeah?” She asked. Erica stared up at her, the downturns at the corners of her eyes making her look positively precious. Kylie is a gullible fool, and she was rapidly becoming okay with that. Cartman nodded slightly.
“Yeah. Do whatever you want.” Kylie whimpered and caught her lips again, kissing her deeply, her fingers petting at her thighs. Spread them apart again. She wiggled against her partner, her body warm and tingling, suddenly wishing she’d had the wherewithal to remove her skirt but far too invested in pushing her fingers inside Erica’s warmth to pause to do so now. Erica moaned into her mouth, bucking her hips up, opening easily around her. So wet. Stupid unbelievably wet.
Cartman actually wanted her.
Wonders never cease.
She pressed her fingers in and out of her, curling them to find the best spot inside, grinding up against her hip. Her skirt rode up on her hips, her clit rubbing hard against Cartman’s hip through her underwear, rocking her fingers deeper.
Erica broke the kiss, resting her face against Kylie’s, cheeks pressed together. “More.” The request spurred Kylie on, her hips moving quicker, pushing a third finger inside her girlfriend (her girlfriend! god, that makes so much more sense-) and relishing the soft fluttery feeling around them.
Kylie bit down on the inside of her cheek, the heat between her thighs building, her stomach clenching frantically, the rhythmic pulsing almost matching Cartman’s. If she was more delusional, she might think that made them soulmates. She panted into Cartman’s ear, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, just above it. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah- yeah, me too- faster.” She groaned, curling her hips up into the sensation. Kylie pressed them quicker at her demand, rubbing sweetly against that spot, watching her face twitch as she twisted and rocked into her. And then, she spasmed again, Erica letting out an almost-sob, her pussy clenching tightly around her fingers. Kylie was lost to it, her hips stuttering in their movements, a huge wave of pleasure rolling over her as she did, in fact, cream her pants.
They both sagged into each other, Kylie dragging her messy fingers against her thigh, shifting her palm up onto Cartman’s hip. “Wow.” A long pause. “So we could have been doing that all year?”
Erica slugged her arm. “Shut the fuck up.”