Criminal Minds: Her Boyfriend Emil
Aug. 29th, 2012 03:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonflyTitle: Her Boyfriend Emil also known as, goddamn I hate titles
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Characters: Emily Prentiss/Jordan Toddd
Prompt:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo: crossdressing
Summary: There's a man on Jordan's couch.
Author's Notes: Thanks toariestess for the beta!
On AO3
Jordan does not mind the regular workdays, now that she’s back at Homeland Security. She gets home by 7 PM every day, sometimes even earlier. It’s especially welcome now that there’s someone to share that home with.
The apartment, though, is quiet as she locks the door behind her. “Emily?” she calls. “Are you home?”
No answer, which is strange. True, Emily is often not home when Jordan arrives, but she’s generally gotten a phone call or a text to alert her to the case—and she just got back from a case yesterday, so there shouldn’t be another one so soon. Jordan walks into the living room, puzzled.
There’s a man on the couch.
Okay, so actually Emily Prentiss doesn’t make that great a man. Jordan can’t help smiling as she walks around to face her girlfriend. Emily is wearing a man’s suit, nicely tailored to her slim body but still looking a bit out of place. She’s bound her breasts, but there’s still a telltale bulge, because no man has that much difference between his chest and waist—or his hips and waist, for that matter. The lack of makeup does nothing to disguise Emily’s delicate lips or wide eyes, and all she’s done with her hair is pulled it back into a low ponytail, which might be a masculine style, but not on a woman.
Still, there is no denying that Emily looks incredibly good like this.
“Emily,” Jordan says, grinning, “What’s going on?”
“Emily? Who’s Emily?” she says in a low, scratchy voice. “It’s me, Emil, your boyfriend.”
Jordan can’t help it. She starts laughing so hard she has to sit down in the chair to get her breath back.
“I thought you’d like it,” said Emily in her normal voice.
Jordan isn’t sure whether she’s annoyed or not until she opens her eyes and Emily is smiling. She does look different without the long eyelashes. “I do,” Jordan says. “I really do. Just lose the voice. It doesn’t work.”
“Okay,” says Emily, grinning now. “But will you call me Emil?”
Jordan laughs again, helplessly, even though her abs are getting kind of sore now. “Sure. Whatever you want, boyfriend.”
“Great.” Emily jumps to her feet and grabs for Jordan’s hand. “Now come on, I’m a good boyfriend. I made dinner.”
“Ooh, sounds great.” Jordan lets Emily pull her to her feet and into an embrace. They kiss, and Jordan enjoys the way Emily feels different against her body—with Emily out of her customary heels, she’s only an inch taller than Jordan, and there’s no squish of breasts when they hug, and there’s… something… hard against her crotch.
“Emily,” Jordan says, pulling her head back to look her lover in the eye, “are you packing?”
“Emil,” she corrects with a mischievous grin, and pulls away, leading Jordan by the hand to their kitchen nook.
Dinner is spaghetti, which is Emily’s usual specialty, so Jordan is relieved that she’s not trying to make herself into someone completely different for the evening. After a few bites and a few sips of delicious wine, during which Emily doesn’t let go of the mischievous grin, Jordan speaks. “So, boyfriend—” she’s having a hard time wrapping her brain around ‘Emil’— “what brings you home so early tonight that you had time to make dinner and wait up for me?”
“Oh, you know.” Emily waves her fork in the air. “We’re all strained from the case we came back from yesterday. Hotch insisted nobody stay past five, except himself, of course.”
“Of course,” says Jordan dryly, and takes another sip of her wine. She knows Hotch, too. “I just hope he’s getting some time to spend with Jack.”
“Me, too.” Emily nods and goes back to her food. They chat about work, as usual, Jordan wondering the whole time how long Emily has been planning this. It can’t have been a spur of the moment thing, because that suit would never have fit her without some major alterations, and Jordan can’t think of anything they have in the apartment that could have bound Emily’s impressive breasts on short notice.
Emily coughs suggestively, and Jordan realizes she’s staring at her girlfriend’s chest. “Don’t you like my dinner?” Emily says. “Or are you just looking forward to dessert?”
Jordan looks up to meet Emily’s eyes and smiles. “Just wondering what exactly is for dessert.”
Once they’ve cleared their plates, Emily gets up and takes the dishes to the sink. Jordan sits back in her chair, expecting to be given further instructions or tugged around some more. She wouldn’t complain. But there’s a bit of banging and rattling, the freezer door opens and closes, and Emily returns with two dishes of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate sauce.
Jordan laughs. “Emily—Emil—I wasn’t expecting an actual dessert!”
Emily bends over her shoulder and waves one of the dishes under her nose. “Are you complaining?”
“Oh, no, give me that.” She snatches the ice cream and sticks a spoonful of ice cream with chocolate sauce—it’s hot fudge, actually, the perfect complement in both flavor and temperature—into her mouth before it can be taken away from her. Emily laughs, too, and sits down with her own ice cream.
It’s delicious, of course, but before Jordan’s done savoring the chocolate Emily is up out of her seat and grabbing for Jordan’s hand again. Jordan laughs and gives it, then allows herself to be guided toward the bedroom, her smile growing all the while and a definite wetness beginning in her panties. Amazing as Emily looks in that tailored suit, she can’t wait to get her out of it.
They pause in the doorway of their bedroom to kiss, and a shiver goes through Jordan as she feels the pressure of the strap-on again. Emily laughs and tangles her hands in Jordan’s hair. “You can feel how much I want you, don’t you?” she murmurs against Jordan’s lips, and Jordan can’t make any response but a gasp.
Emily moves them inside and kicks the door shut, then her hands find the buttons of Jordan’s blouse. They pull each other out of their clothes—Jordan losing her blouse, Emily her tailored jacket—but when Jordan reaches for the buttons of Emily’s shirt, Emily lightly slaps her hand away. Jordan is disappointed, but realizes that the illusion Emily is trying to go for will be broken if she can actually see the binding. Also, she probably wouldn’t be able to resist freeing Emily’s breasts. So she lets it alone.
Soon Emily has Jordan stripped down to nothing but panties and bra. Jordan wishes she’d had a chance to change into a fancier set—Emily dressed up for her, after all—but Emily, staring down at her breasts, doesn’t seem to mind. “I love that color on you,” she says, then dips her head down to lick underneath the lace overlay at the top of the bra. Jordan gasps and clutches at her girlfriend’s waist, then thinks better of it and moves her hands to the button at the waist of the pants.
“Impatient, are you?” Emily squeezes Jordan’s ass, first over her panties, then sliding her hand underneath and stroking the skin. She slides the panties down as Jordan opens her fly and releases the strap-on. She almost laughs at the sight of it, but manages to turn her reaction into an appreciative gasp. She takes the dildo and slides her hand along it. Emily moans and presses against her hand, for all the world like a man who’s having his cock stroked. Lord knows they’ve both seen enough of that. Enough, in fact, that Jordan is surprised at how much the sight turns her on. She’s been so happy having a girlfriend that she hasn’t realized she’s missed penises.
She grabs Emily’s hip and pulls her toward the bed, stepping out of her panties. Emily grins, then kisses her deeply until they hit the end of the bed and both fall onto it, laughing. The laughter only lasts a moment, though, before Emily takes charge again, rolling Jordan onto her back and kneeling between her legs.
Jordan lets her eyes roam over her lover’s body as Emily reaches around for the clasp of her bra. Except for the face, and the long hair hanging over her shoulders, she almost can believe that this is a boyfriend, Emil. The harness of the strap-on is mostly hidden under Emily’s pants, and it’s a realistic skin color, though somewhat darker than Emily’s own.
She is quickly distracted from the analysis when Emily’s hands wrap around her breasts and squeeze.
She reaches for her lover, but Emily starts to palm her nipples, rolling them under and around her hands, and Jordan moans and lets her hands fall back to the mattress. She can’t be expected to control her muscles now, except to push her chest up, push her breasts more fully into Emily’s hands. She isn’t disappointed, either. Emily sucks her nipples, then moves her head to kiss Jordan’s neck, still caressing her breasts. The combination of sensations makes Jordan lightheaded, even lying down as she is. She moans and lifts her hips, seeking friction.
Emily makes a soft noise and nips Jordan’s neck, then continues around, making a necklace of tiny bites. Jordan gasps and now her hands come up of their own accord, wrapping around Emily’s shoulders. The cotton shirt is soft. Jordan longs to pull it off, but resists once again.
Her hips are rocking back and forth now. It’s like no part of her body is under her control.
Emily lets go of her breasts, and Jordan almost cries out at the loss, but then Emily reaches down and caresses her clit, and now Jordan really does cry out at the sensation. “Ah,” says Emily, with satisfaction, then spreads Jordan’s labia and presses the dildo against her opening.
Jordan yelps and clutches at Emily, because the plastic is cold, but it’s still sending warmth up her body and she wants more—”More,” she says, and Emily grins and kisses her and thrusts all the way in.
It’s still cold at first, but the sensation is different and interesting, and between the heat of their bodies the plastic quickly warms up. It’s hitting all the right spots, sending waves of tingling and heat rushing through Jordan, and all she can do is gasp and moan and clutch onto Emily. From the noises Emily’s making, she’s enjoying herself, too. And the pressure builds and builds until suddenly it crashes like the ocean over Jordan, and she’s screaming out Emily’s name, and all her muscles are locking up as she comes.
She whimpers, a little, as Emily pulls out, but then there’s a little ache left behind and she’s glad it didn’t last longer. They both lay back on the bed, panting. After a few moments Jordan turns her head to smile at Emily. “You do make a pretty hot guy.”
Emily grins back. “Thank you. I thought you might like it.”
“How long have you been planning that?”
“Oh, you know.” Emily waves her hand vaguely. “A while. I’ve been assembling the pieces bit by bit. The hardest part was getting the strap-on and the binder delivered without letting either you or Morgan know what I was getting.”
They both laugh, then Jordan says, “Sorry I forgot to call you Emil,” which makes them laugh again. Then Emily sits up and starts wriggling off her clothes. “Oh, let me help you with that,” Jordan says. She’s got her breath back and sits up on her knees to tug the trousers off Emily’s legs. Then she slides up to the strap-on and spends a couple of minutes figuring out how to undo the harness.
“Did you like that?” Emily asks.
“A lot more than I would have expected,” says Jordan. “We may have to try that again.”
“You can wear it next time.”
Jordan smiles, imagining Emily spread out underneath her while she pounds into her with her very own penis. “That could be fun.”
“Oh,” groans Emily, an unhappy sound, which makes Jordan look down at her again. She’s undoing the fastenings of the binder—it’s like a flesh-colored, flat corset—and grimacing.
Instantly Jordan comes back up her side and takes over the fastenings. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… compression. Makes me sore. Oh god,” Emily gasps once they’ve gotten it off and Jordan tosses it onto the bedside table. “Wow, I didn’t think taking it off would hurt that much.”
“Let me help with that.” Jordan brings her hands up under Emily’s breasts and squeezes lightly. Her small hands are far from equal to Emily’s bosom, but she can think of this as a massage. “There, does that help?”
“Mmm.” Emily’s eyes have drifted shut. “Don’t stop.”
Jordan grins and obeys, caressing Emily’s breasts in small circles. They feel cool at first, then warm under her hands. She presses around them in circles, bringing her hands further and further in until she’s just rubbing her palms over Emily’s broad nipples. Emily gasps, and her breathing has sped up. Jordan lowers her head, tickling Emily’s skin with her curly hair, but keeping her eyes lifted to watch Emily’s face. Her eyes are still closed, and her mouth is spread wide in a grimace, but Jordan is familiar with that expression and knows it doesn’t mean unhappiness at all.
Jordan bends her head further and takes Emily’s left nipple in her mouth, sucking hard without giving Emily time to prepare. She’s rewarded with a high, sharp keen, and sucks harder. “Oh—Jordan,” Emily gasps. “Jordan, please.”
Jordan lifts her head and blows on the damp nipple. It seems to tighten even further. She switches her attention to the other nipple until Emily is writhing underneath her and begging in a litany. She reaches down to touch the tight curls of Emily’s mons and looks up at her lover’s face again. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut and her mouth is open, pink tongue contrasting against her teeth. Jordan takes advantage of that to give her a deep, hard kiss before sliding further down her body.
She nuzzles Emily’s thighs apart and plants big, wet kisses up and down the smooth skin of each inner thigh. Emily’s hips are twitching and her hands are fisted in the sheets. “Jordan, for the love of god, please,” she moans, and Jordan decides to take pity on her. She licks apart Emily’s labia and then presses her tongue to her clit. It only takes a few minutes of determined licking until Emily is shrieking and bucking her hips so hard Jordan couldn’t stay in place if she wanted to.
Jordan presses the heel of her hand to Emily’s clit, the way she likes it, until the spasms stop and there’s just their ragged breathing. Then she wriggles her way up her lover’s body and rests her head on her shoulder. Emily puts an arm around her and squeezes tight.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Emily says once she’s got her breath back.
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you lingering there,” Jordan says, unable to help a smile. “Not when you’ve got those incredible breasts I can’t keep my hands off.”
Emily laughs breathlessly, laying her head back against the pillow. “I do have pretty amazing breasts.”
Jordan nods, then pushes up the nearest one and kisses the top of it. Emily laughs again and swats her hand away. “Stop that, I’m too worn out.”
“Hey, it was your idea.”
Emily grumbles incoherently under her breath. “Tired. Sleep now.”
Jordan groans and lifts her hand to point toward the bathroom. “We should shower. We’re all sweaty.”
Emily grabs her arm and pulls it down, tight against her own body. “No. Sleep.”
Jordan is too tired to really argue. Besides, Emily smells so good this way. She snuggles down into her love’s embrace and drifts off to sleep.
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Characters: Emily Prentiss/Jordan Toddd
Prompt:
kink_bingo: crossdressingSummary: There's a man on Jordan's couch.
Author's Notes: Thanks to
ariestess for the beta!On AO3
Jordan does not mind the regular workdays, now that she’s back at Homeland Security. She gets home by 7 PM every day, sometimes even earlier. It’s especially welcome now that there’s someone to share that home with.
The apartment, though, is quiet as she locks the door behind her. “Emily?” she calls. “Are you home?”
No answer, which is strange. True, Emily is often not home when Jordan arrives, but she’s generally gotten a phone call or a text to alert her to the case—and she just got back from a case yesterday, so there shouldn’t be another one so soon. Jordan walks into the living room, puzzled.
There’s a man on the couch.
Okay, so actually Emily Prentiss doesn’t make that great a man. Jordan can’t help smiling as she walks around to face her girlfriend. Emily is wearing a man’s suit, nicely tailored to her slim body but still looking a bit out of place. She’s bound her breasts, but there’s still a telltale bulge, because no man has that much difference between his chest and waist—or his hips and waist, for that matter. The lack of makeup does nothing to disguise Emily’s delicate lips or wide eyes, and all she’s done with her hair is pulled it back into a low ponytail, which might be a masculine style, but not on a woman.
Still, there is no denying that Emily looks incredibly good like this.
“Emily,” Jordan says, grinning, “What’s going on?”
“Emily? Who’s Emily?” she says in a low, scratchy voice. “It’s me, Emil, your boyfriend.”
Jordan can’t help it. She starts laughing so hard she has to sit down in the chair to get her breath back.
“I thought you’d like it,” said Emily in her normal voice.
Jordan isn’t sure whether she’s annoyed or not until she opens her eyes and Emily is smiling. She does look different without the long eyelashes. “I do,” Jordan says. “I really do. Just lose the voice. It doesn’t work.”
“Okay,” says Emily, grinning now. “But will you call me Emil?”
Jordan laughs again, helplessly, even though her abs are getting kind of sore now. “Sure. Whatever you want, boyfriend.”
“Great.” Emily jumps to her feet and grabs for Jordan’s hand. “Now come on, I’m a good boyfriend. I made dinner.”
“Ooh, sounds great.” Jordan lets Emily pull her to her feet and into an embrace. They kiss, and Jordan enjoys the way Emily feels different against her body—with Emily out of her customary heels, she’s only an inch taller than Jordan, and there’s no squish of breasts when they hug, and there’s… something… hard against her crotch.
“Emily,” Jordan says, pulling her head back to look her lover in the eye, “are you packing?”
“Emil,” she corrects with a mischievous grin, and pulls away, leading Jordan by the hand to their kitchen nook.
Dinner is spaghetti, which is Emily’s usual specialty, so Jordan is relieved that she’s not trying to make herself into someone completely different for the evening. After a few bites and a few sips of delicious wine, during which Emily doesn’t let go of the mischievous grin, Jordan speaks. “So, boyfriend—” she’s having a hard time wrapping her brain around ‘Emil’— “what brings you home so early tonight that you had time to make dinner and wait up for me?”
“Oh, you know.” Emily waves her fork in the air. “We’re all strained from the case we came back from yesterday. Hotch insisted nobody stay past five, except himself, of course.”
“Of course,” says Jordan dryly, and takes another sip of her wine. She knows Hotch, too. “I just hope he’s getting some time to spend with Jack.”
“Me, too.” Emily nods and goes back to her food. They chat about work, as usual, Jordan wondering the whole time how long Emily has been planning this. It can’t have been a spur of the moment thing, because that suit would never have fit her without some major alterations, and Jordan can’t think of anything they have in the apartment that could have bound Emily’s impressive breasts on short notice.
Emily coughs suggestively, and Jordan realizes she’s staring at her girlfriend’s chest. “Don’t you like my dinner?” Emily says. “Or are you just looking forward to dessert?”
Jordan looks up to meet Emily’s eyes and smiles. “Just wondering what exactly is for dessert.”
Once they’ve cleared their plates, Emily gets up and takes the dishes to the sink. Jordan sits back in her chair, expecting to be given further instructions or tugged around some more. She wouldn’t complain. But there’s a bit of banging and rattling, the freezer door opens and closes, and Emily returns with two dishes of vanilla ice cream topped with chocolate sauce.
Jordan laughs. “Emily—Emil—I wasn’t expecting an actual dessert!”
Emily bends over her shoulder and waves one of the dishes under her nose. “Are you complaining?”
“Oh, no, give me that.” She snatches the ice cream and sticks a spoonful of ice cream with chocolate sauce—it’s hot fudge, actually, the perfect complement in both flavor and temperature—into her mouth before it can be taken away from her. Emily laughs, too, and sits down with her own ice cream.
It’s delicious, of course, but before Jordan’s done savoring the chocolate Emily is up out of her seat and grabbing for Jordan’s hand again. Jordan laughs and gives it, then allows herself to be guided toward the bedroom, her smile growing all the while and a definite wetness beginning in her panties. Amazing as Emily looks in that tailored suit, she can’t wait to get her out of it.
They pause in the doorway of their bedroom to kiss, and a shiver goes through Jordan as she feels the pressure of the strap-on again. Emily laughs and tangles her hands in Jordan’s hair. “You can feel how much I want you, don’t you?” she murmurs against Jordan’s lips, and Jordan can’t make any response but a gasp.
Emily moves them inside and kicks the door shut, then her hands find the buttons of Jordan’s blouse. They pull each other out of their clothes—Jordan losing her blouse, Emily her tailored jacket—but when Jordan reaches for the buttons of Emily’s shirt, Emily lightly slaps her hand away. Jordan is disappointed, but realizes that the illusion Emily is trying to go for will be broken if she can actually see the binding. Also, she probably wouldn’t be able to resist freeing Emily’s breasts. So she lets it alone.
Soon Emily has Jordan stripped down to nothing but panties and bra. Jordan wishes she’d had a chance to change into a fancier set—Emily dressed up for her, after all—but Emily, staring down at her breasts, doesn’t seem to mind. “I love that color on you,” she says, then dips her head down to lick underneath the lace overlay at the top of the bra. Jordan gasps and clutches at her girlfriend’s waist, then thinks better of it and moves her hands to the button at the waist of the pants.
“Impatient, are you?” Emily squeezes Jordan’s ass, first over her panties, then sliding her hand underneath and stroking the skin. She slides the panties down as Jordan opens her fly and releases the strap-on. She almost laughs at the sight of it, but manages to turn her reaction into an appreciative gasp. She takes the dildo and slides her hand along it. Emily moans and presses against her hand, for all the world like a man who’s having his cock stroked. Lord knows they’ve both seen enough of that. Enough, in fact, that Jordan is surprised at how much the sight turns her on. She’s been so happy having a girlfriend that she hasn’t realized she’s missed penises.
She grabs Emily’s hip and pulls her toward the bed, stepping out of her panties. Emily grins, then kisses her deeply until they hit the end of the bed and both fall onto it, laughing. The laughter only lasts a moment, though, before Emily takes charge again, rolling Jordan onto her back and kneeling between her legs.
Jordan lets her eyes roam over her lover’s body as Emily reaches around for the clasp of her bra. Except for the face, and the long hair hanging over her shoulders, she almost can believe that this is a boyfriend, Emil. The harness of the strap-on is mostly hidden under Emily’s pants, and it’s a realistic skin color, though somewhat darker than Emily’s own.
She is quickly distracted from the analysis when Emily’s hands wrap around her breasts and squeeze.
She reaches for her lover, but Emily starts to palm her nipples, rolling them under and around her hands, and Jordan moans and lets her hands fall back to the mattress. She can’t be expected to control her muscles now, except to push her chest up, push her breasts more fully into Emily’s hands. She isn’t disappointed, either. Emily sucks her nipples, then moves her head to kiss Jordan’s neck, still caressing her breasts. The combination of sensations makes Jordan lightheaded, even lying down as she is. She moans and lifts her hips, seeking friction.
Emily makes a soft noise and nips Jordan’s neck, then continues around, making a necklace of tiny bites. Jordan gasps and now her hands come up of their own accord, wrapping around Emily’s shoulders. The cotton shirt is soft. Jordan longs to pull it off, but resists once again.
Her hips are rocking back and forth now. It’s like no part of her body is under her control.
Emily lets go of her breasts, and Jordan almost cries out at the loss, but then Emily reaches down and caresses her clit, and now Jordan really does cry out at the sensation. “Ah,” says Emily, with satisfaction, then spreads Jordan’s labia and presses the dildo against her opening.
Jordan yelps and clutches at Emily, because the plastic is cold, but it’s still sending warmth up her body and she wants more—”More,” she says, and Emily grins and kisses her and thrusts all the way in.
It’s still cold at first, but the sensation is different and interesting, and between the heat of their bodies the plastic quickly warms up. It’s hitting all the right spots, sending waves of tingling and heat rushing through Jordan, and all she can do is gasp and moan and clutch onto Emily. From the noises Emily’s making, she’s enjoying herself, too. And the pressure builds and builds until suddenly it crashes like the ocean over Jordan, and she’s screaming out Emily’s name, and all her muscles are locking up as she comes.
She whimpers, a little, as Emily pulls out, but then there’s a little ache left behind and she’s glad it didn’t last longer. They both lay back on the bed, panting. After a few moments Jordan turns her head to smile at Emily. “You do make a pretty hot guy.”
Emily grins back. “Thank you. I thought you might like it.”
“How long have you been planning that?”
“Oh, you know.” Emily waves her hand vaguely. “A while. I’ve been assembling the pieces bit by bit. The hardest part was getting the strap-on and the binder delivered without letting either you or Morgan know what I was getting.”
They both laugh, then Jordan says, “Sorry I forgot to call you Emil,” which makes them laugh again. Then Emily sits up and starts wriggling off her clothes. “Oh, let me help you with that,” Jordan says. She’s got her breath back and sits up on her knees to tug the trousers off Emily’s legs. Then she slides up to the strap-on and spends a couple of minutes figuring out how to undo the harness.
“Did you like that?” Emily asks.
“A lot more than I would have expected,” says Jordan. “We may have to try that again.”
“You can wear it next time.”
Jordan smiles, imagining Emily spread out underneath her while she pounds into her with her very own penis. “That could be fun.”
“Oh,” groans Emily, an unhappy sound, which makes Jordan look down at her again. She’s undoing the fastenings of the binder—it’s like a flesh-colored, flat corset—and grimacing.
Instantly Jordan comes back up her side and takes over the fastenings. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… compression. Makes me sore. Oh god,” Emily gasps once they’ve gotten it off and Jordan tosses it onto the bedside table. “Wow, I didn’t think taking it off would hurt that much.”
“Let me help with that.” Jordan brings her hands up under Emily’s breasts and squeezes lightly. Her small hands are far from equal to Emily’s bosom, but she can think of this as a massage. “There, does that help?”
“Mmm.” Emily’s eyes have drifted shut. “Don’t stop.”
Jordan grins and obeys, caressing Emily’s breasts in small circles. They feel cool at first, then warm under her hands. She presses around them in circles, bringing her hands further and further in until she’s just rubbing her palms over Emily’s broad nipples. Emily gasps, and her breathing has sped up. Jordan lowers her head, tickling Emily’s skin with her curly hair, but keeping her eyes lifted to watch Emily’s face. Her eyes are still closed, and her mouth is spread wide in a grimace, but Jordan is familiar with that expression and knows it doesn’t mean unhappiness at all.
Jordan bends her head further and takes Emily’s left nipple in her mouth, sucking hard without giving Emily time to prepare. She’s rewarded with a high, sharp keen, and sucks harder. “Oh—Jordan,” Emily gasps. “Jordan, please.”
Jordan lifts her head and blows on the damp nipple. It seems to tighten even further. She switches her attention to the other nipple until Emily is writhing underneath her and begging in a litany. She reaches down to touch the tight curls of Emily’s mons and looks up at her lover’s face again. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut and her mouth is open, pink tongue contrasting against her teeth. Jordan takes advantage of that to give her a deep, hard kiss before sliding further down her body.
She nuzzles Emily’s thighs apart and plants big, wet kisses up and down the smooth skin of each inner thigh. Emily’s hips are twitching and her hands are fisted in the sheets. “Jordan, for the love of god, please,” she moans, and Jordan decides to take pity on her. She licks apart Emily’s labia and then presses her tongue to her clit. It only takes a few minutes of determined licking until Emily is shrieking and bucking her hips so hard Jordan couldn’t stay in place if she wanted to.
Jordan presses the heel of her hand to Emily’s clit, the way she likes it, until the spasms stop and there’s just their ragged breathing. Then she wriggles her way up her lover’s body and rests her head on her shoulder. Emily puts an arm around her and squeezes tight.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Emily says once she’s got her breath back.
“Well, I couldn’t just leave you lingering there,” Jordan says, unable to help a smile. “Not when you’ve got those incredible breasts I can’t keep my hands off.”
Emily laughs breathlessly, laying her head back against the pillow. “I do have pretty amazing breasts.”
Jordan nods, then pushes up the nearest one and kisses the top of it. Emily laughs again and swats her hand away. “Stop that, I’m too worn out.”
“Hey, it was your idea.”
Emily grumbles incoherently under her breath. “Tired. Sleep now.”
Jordan groans and lifts her hand to point toward the bathroom. “We should shower. We’re all sweaty.”
Emily grabs her arm and pulls it down, tight against her own body. “No. Sleep.”
Jordan is too tired to really argue. Besides, Emily smells so good this way. She snuggles down into her love’s embrace and drifts off to sleep.