Read Starting From Scratch Online
Authors: Georgia Beers
Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Romance, #Erotica
her shorts, let me push them down her legs. She stepped
out of them and paused, letting me set the pace. I took a
step back from her.
“I just…just let me look at you.”
Breathtaking didn’t begin to describe her, and I hoped
I wasn’t drooling all over myself as I took her in.
Surprisingly, the simple white bra and pink and white
striped panties only added to her casual sexiness, and even
in the dim light, I was awed by her. I roamed her body
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with my eyes, wondering if she could feel it, feel how much
I wanted her. I took in every inch of her, from her
bashfully smiling face down the long column of her neck
to her freckled shoulders, lingering on her modest breasts
and anticipating what they’d taste like, the color of her
nipples and their hardness against my tongue. I knew I’d
be dipping into that belly button as I held onto the slight
roundness of her hips and I had every intention of going
lower, wanting to feel those long, sexy legs draped along
my back as I buried my head between her thighs.
It was hard to tell in the faint light, but I thought a
tremble rippled through her.
“Avery.” Her voice caught, not much more than a
murmur. e sound of my name was like a caress, and I
swallowed hard. Stepping closer, I used one finger and
placed it against her lips. She kissed it sweetly and her eyes
never left mine as I dragged it over her chin, down her
throat, between her breasts, along her tummy, and over the
front of her panties. Her gasp was very slight, but sexy as
hell, and I could tell she was trying hard to keep control of
herself. I retraced my path back up.
“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” I
said quietly, and I’d never meant anything more in my life.
I couldn’t keep my mouth to myself any longer. I
pulled her head down to mine and I kissed her then. Hard.
With purpose and intention, conveying with my lips and
tongue and teeth exactly what I wanted to do with her.
What I wanted to do
to
her. For hours.
Two steps backwards, her legs hit my mattress and she
was down, on her back with me crawling up her body, my
destination being that sweet, hot, wet mouth of hers.
Despite my intention of slowing things down, they seemed
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to speed up instead. I barely remember scrambling out of
my own clothes, though the excited gasp that escaped me
as I removed Elena’s bra is burned into my memory. e
warmth, the smoothness, the taste of her skin is
magnificently clear to me. She dug her fingers into my hair
as I moved along her body, sampling every inch of her with
my mouth, dipping my tongue into her navel and moving
slowly lower. She was tall, but rather slight in build, and
my smaller hands fit to her like a sculptor to clay, as if I
wasn’t only touching her, but molding her, pressing and
sliding my fingers and palms along her bronzed skin,
stroking her as I would a piece of art, gently, reverently, and
with immense awe.
e first touch of my tongue to her center sent her
hips up off the bed, a quiet, strangled cry emanating from
her throat. It was nearly the end for me as I felt her heel
press into the small of my back and the fingers of one hand
fist in my hair to direct me, to pull me in more snugly. She
was sweet and tangy and salty and I seemed to know just
what to do, how much or how little pressure to give her,
when to slow down or to speed up. It was as though I’d
been making love to her for years and I was stunned by our
compatibility. I shifted slightly so I could reach up and cup
her breast without taking my mouth from her. I rolled her
hardened nipple between my fingers and she stifled a
groan, whispered my name, pushed herself harder against
my tongue. And then she tipped over the edge.
She made very little sound as she came, but every
muscle in her body spasmed and I half-expected to be
missing a chunk of hair when she finished, though I didn’t
mind; the pressure was delicious. Tightly grasping her
hips, I stayed with her, stayed pressed to her hot, wet flesh,
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until her climax subsided and she gently tugged my head
back from her.
Ragged breathing was the only sound for several
minutes and it filled the room. I lay with my head on
Elena’s stomach, her fingers twisting my hair softly as we
recovered. Heat radiated from both our bodies and the
musky scent of sex permeated the air.
“Wow,” she finally said.
I grinned against her skin. “I’ll say.”
“at was absolutely amazing, Avery. Good God.”
I turned my head so I could look at her face. “You
have the quietest orgasm I’ve ever heard,” I said with a
chuckle.
She laughed. “I have a child. at’s a sound he doesn’t
need to be woken up by. Ever. Believe me, I know.” e
grimace that followed told me she’d heard more than
necessary when it came to the sex life of her parents and I
laughed with her.
I propped myself on an elbow and gazed at her skin as
my fingers played across it. I traced the fine, barely visible
scar that cut across her abdomen and through her pubic
hair. “Max was a C-section?”
“Poor little guy was all wrapped up in his umbilical
cord. He almost strangled himself.”
“Were you scared?”
“Terrified. Here I’d done everything necessary to
prepare. I’d gone to Lamaze classes, read every book I
could get my hands on, I was all ready to take on natural
childbirth. I was in the hospital all of an hour when my ob/
gyn realized she had to go in and get him. I knew nothing
about C-sections. Not a thing.”
“Yikes.”
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“It was a pretty stressful ordeal.” She stroked my hair
back off my forehead. “Luckily, everything came out fine.”
I nodded, still enamored with the lightly pinkened
flesh, still running my fingertip over it and absently
wondering if the doctor had even a moment of regret
before taking a scalpel to such perfect skin.
“Hey, come here.” She tugged gently at my hair. When
I was face to face with her, she whispered, “Enough talk.
We’re not finished. Kiss me.”
Never one to disobey a direct order from a beautiful
woman, I did as I was told. In a matter of a few mere
seconds, I was on my back, Elena was stretched out above
me, and her fingers were everywhere. It was a blur of
sensual pleasure, nothing solid, just waves of pure bliss as
she ignited my skin with her mouth and her tongue and
her hands. When her fingers pushed into me, hard and
knowing, I had no reservations about noise and I cried out
her name, grasping blindly for my headboard, needing
something concrete to hold onto, to ground me. She pulled
out slowly, thrust back in with determination, and I heard a
rumble in the distance, followed by colors behind my
closed eyelids. I lifted my head and realized with disbelief
that the local Independence Day fireworks display had
begun, viewable out my bedroom window over the trees, as
they are every year.
Elena glanced over her shoulder as the next burst hit,
filling the room with green light. I could see a wickedly
amused smile spread across her face as she turned back to
me.
“Well, isn’t that apropos,” she stated, then refocused
her attention on my body. My head slammed back onto my
pillow as her hand resumed its movements and her mouth
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fastened onto my breast, the hot, wet suction sending me
into oblivion in a few short, heavenly moments.
ere were actual honest-to-God fireworks as I came.
We lay in the aftermath of our lovemaking, in the
aftermath of the fireworks, in the aftermath of the feelings
racing through my bloodstream. Catching our breath, we
were quiet and not uncomfortable. My head rested in the
crook of Elena’s neck, the sound of her heartbeat a muffled
thump-thump beneath my ear. She drew lazy circles with
her fingertips on my shoulder and I did the same thing on
her belly. We weren’t done. We were far from done. I could
feel it. My body still thrummed with the excitement of
being so close to her skin and I could almost hear her
soaking up the energy for another go around.
I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted somebody
so badly. Or so constantly.
“Why are you single?” she asked suddenly, softly.
“I’m sorry?” Her question took me by surprise.
“I’m just wondering why a successful, intelligent, sexy
woman like you hasn’t been snapped up. I mean, look at
you. What the hell is wrong with the last person you were
with? Is she blind? An idiot?”
“I could ask the same questions about you,” I pointed
out, flattered beyond belief.
I felt Elena give a little shake of her head. “No. You
already know my story. My ex
is
an idiot. Tell me about
yours.”
“Lauren.”
“Lauren.” Elena seemed to try the name on for size.
“What’s wrong with her?”
For some reason, I thought about the idea of karma
and decided I should be nice. After all, our problems
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weren’t all Lauren’s; I was equally, if not more so, to blame.
“I wasn’t in love with her.”
It was a simple statement, not a lie. It was almost all of
the truth.
“Ah.”
“I thought I was at first. And when I realized I wasn’t,
I tried hard to be. She’s a sweet girl. She’s really very nice.”
“So you broke her heart.” She didn’t accuse, just stated
a fact.
I sighed. “Yes, I did. It was pretty awful for a while, but
she deserved better.”
“Has she found it?”
“Not yet. I don’t think. We still talk on occasion. She
calls once in a while to say hi. She’s really—”
“Very nice,” Elena finished for me, a grin in her voice.
“She is,” I replied, feeling just a touch defensive, but
playfully so. I lifted my head and looked into her eyes. It
was dark and late and I couldn’t see much detail, but I held
her gaze for a long moment and she didn’t look away.
“I don’t do this kind of thing with just anybody,
Avery,” Elena whispered, the sound sending a pleasant
shiver tingling across my skin.
“Do what kind of thing?” I propped my head on my
hand, my elbow next to her ear, and studied her face in the
dark, ran my fingers lightly across her throat.
“Fall into bed after two dates. Have an inability to
carry on a conversation without thinking about…” She
trailed off.
“Sex?” I finished for her teasingly.
“Yes. Sex.” She looked away then, fiddled with the
edge of the sheet, and her voice became even softer. “I don’t
have casual sex, Avery. at’s what I’m trying to tell you.”
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She swallowed audibly and turned back to meet my eyes.
“It means something to me.”
e warmth that spread through me then was like a
pleasant version of a hot flash. My blood warmed, my skin
flushed, and I felt almost high with giddiness. I wanted to
jump up and do a little Snoopy dance around my bedroom,
but I somehow managed to leash my inner geek and stay
calm. Instead, I smiled down at her, let my fingers play over
her lips, so soft to the touch.
“It means something to me, too.”
And this time when I kissed her, when she kissed me,
it was different. It was deeper, both physically and
emotionally. We took our time, explored and looked into
one another’s eyes. I wanted to touch every single part of
her body. I wanted her to feel me everywhere. We melded
and sweat and pushed and stroked and groaned and filled
each other. And hovering in the room with us, hanging in
the air like a mist, was the unmistakable promise of a
possible future. is time when I pushed Elena to her limit
and then nudged her off the precipice, when she said my
name on a guttural moan, I closed my eyes in bliss and felt
tears stinging behind my eyelids. Her ragged voice, her
hands in my hair, her body arching into mine, it filled me
up, made me feel whole, made me feel invincible.
Hours later, we rested, drifting in and out of sleep as
dawn broke over the horizon out my window. I lay in bed
on my side, Elena’s warm body curled behind and around
me, spooning me so perfectly it was almost surreal. Her leg
was tucked snugly between my thighs, pressed up into my
own wet heat that I now worried might be never-ending.
Her arm wrapped around me, under my own arm and
against my chest where I clasped it with my hand, brought
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it to my lips and kissed the knuckles softly. I could hear
and feel her gentle, even breathing near my ear, and smell
the scent of arousal and foreplay and raw, primal sex that
hung suspended in the air, wafting like remnants of a
dream. I breathed it, took it into my lungs, into my body,