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Self awareness was something Carla Connor prided herself of possessing in abundance. At nearly fifty years of age, she was confident in saying she knew herself pretty well by now. A lifetime of trials and tribulations had moulded her into the person she was today - one possessing a complicated mix of strength, vulnerability, wisdom and sophistication.
What she - nor anyone else - would be quick to describe herself as, however, was patient.
While she appreciated there were times in life when patience was required, her own particular well had always been running somewhere between shallow and near-empty.
In short, when Carla knew what she wanted, she wanted it then and there.
Veruca Salt had nothing on her. Indeed, she wasn’t above the occasional heel stamp and monumental strop when things did not go her way. And right now - things were decidedly not going her way.
It had been five weeks since her discharge from hospital.
During this time she had been, in her opinion anyway, an absolute model patient. Ok yes, there may have been some occasional grumbling and choice language when it came to physio appointments or Lisa enforcing doctors orders that Carla preferred to interpret more as suggestions, but overall she had been good as gold. Everything had healed well - her stitches were long gone and she could walk properly again without the stick most days, only taking it with her as precaution in case she got too tired on her slow rambles around the local park.
The bruising decorating her from nearly head to toe had faded from violent shades of purple into faint yellow ghosts along her ribs and collarbone. Even the headaches had mostly stopped ambushing her at random intervals. In short, she felt in tip-top shape for someone who had almost been beaten to death. Psychologically, she was in even better nick, all things considered - the unconditional love and support she had been receiving from the Swains had gone a long way towards undoing years of self-hatred and recrimination.
She had a safe home, a loving partner, a daughter-like figure, a big fat bank account and enough inner peace to power a Buddhist temple.
There was just one thing missing. And that one thing was fast becoming all Carla could think about.
_________________________
The whole ordeal might have been easier to tolerate if Lisa would stop inadvertently tormenting her every waking second. Every seemingly insignificant thing Lisa did was driving her absolutely feral.
Folding laundry? Hot as fuck.
Rolling up her sleeves while cooking? Tantamount to pornography.
Bending over to unload the dishwasher? Carla genuinely had to leave the room once.
The worst part was that the sexy blonde she-demon seemed genuinely oblivious to Carla’s ongoing distress.
Take for example; ‘The Running Incident’.
It happened one Sunday morning while Carla was sitting at the kitchen table scrolling through holiday cottages online and pretending not to sulk about being left behind while Lisa disappeared for an hour and a half.
Then the back door opened, and in walked Lisa Swain looking like she’d been handcrafted in some sort of lesbian laboratory specifically to ruin Carla’s life.
Her cheeks were pink from the cold and glowing under a light sheen of sweat, her hair damp and escaping from her ponytail. She was wearing a grey hoodie half-zipped over a tiny black running top. And then - because apparently God had abandoned Carla entirely - Lisa tugged the hoodie over her head, right there in the kitchen.
Carla had legitimately stopped breathing.
Meanwhile Lisa, completely oblivious, wandered to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water before tilting her head back to drink deeply. Carla watched the movement of her throat with the haunted expression of a Victorian maiden dying of consumption.
Then Lisa sighed heavily and wiped the back of her neck with the hem of her shirt, briefly exposing a strip of toned stomach.
Carla would later pinpoint this as the exact moment she ascended to heaven.
Then there was the ‘Furniture Incident’.
It started innocently enough - Lisa had decided Carla needed more storage space now that she’d effectively moved into her room permanently, so naturally she ordered a chest of drawers from IKEA.
Unfortunately for Carla, assembling said drawers apparently required Lisa to spend an entire Saturday afternoon in a scandalously short pair of running tights and grey tank top.
After making some completely insincere offers to help, Carla had been ordered firmly onto the bed to “supervise.” Which actually translated to: Sit there uselessly while staring at Lisa’s arms. For two bloody hours.
Occasionally Lisa would ask for help turning the instructions pages or finding various screws or wooden dowels.
‘Can you pass me the allen key?’ She’d piped up at one point, hand outstretched.
Carla handed it over silently.
Lisa crouched down beside the half-built drawers, muscles in her forearms flexing as she tightened something aggressively while Carla stared openly.
At one point Lisa muttered: ‘Why is this bit not fitting?’ before bracing part of the unit between her thighs and forcing the panels together with a sharp shove.
Carla made a noise so distressed Lisa immediately looked up in alarm.
‘What happened?!’ She asked worriedly.
‘You can’t look like that,’ Carla pointed weakly at her, ‘while doing that.’ She gestured to the half built drawer still braced between Lisa’s legs.
‘What are you talking about?’ Lisa sounded so genuinely baffled that Carla had to seriously question how someone so intelligent could also be this oblivious.
‘I swear to God Lisa.’ She huffed, then rolled carefully off the bed and stropped her way down to the kitchen to put some distance between them.
______________________________
Carla might have let all this sexy behaviour on Lisa’s part slide if it wasn’t for the fact that it was Lisa who was pulling the brakes anytime things got even remotely hot and heavy between them.
‘The consultant said no rigorous activity for four to six weeks,’ She reminded her for about the nine-thousandth time one Thursday evening.
Carla looked deeply unimpressed. ‘And it’s been five weeks. You’re acting like I proposed we try reverse cowgirl on the kitchen table.’ She huffed.
Lisa made a strangled noise so high-pitched Carla actually started laughing.
‘CARLA!’ She choked.
‘What?? Look, all I’m saying is some gentle fingering isn’t going to land me back in the ICU.’ She shrugged innocently.
Lisa’s face turned even redder, if that were possible. She exhaled slowly and looked down briefly at her hands.
‘The doctor said four to six weeks,’ she repeated quietly. ‘Not five.’
Carla opened her mouth to argue again but Lisa cut her off gently.
‘I know it’s only seven days.’ Her voice softened further. ‘But after everything that happened, I am not risking hurting you for the sake of one week. Not a chance.’
Well shit, Carla thought, that was significantly harder to argue with.
Her expression melted almost instantly. ‘Lisa…’
‘No please listen,’ Lisa begged. ‘Every time things start getting… heated…’ She grimaced, still faintly embarrassed. ‘All I can think about is seeing you in that hospital bed looking so small and bruised and exhausted.’
Carla felt every ounce of the frustration inside her soften at once. Holding her hand out silently Lisa crossed the room, immediately letting Carla pull her gently into a tight hug.
‘Hey.’ Carla brushed her fingers softly along Lisa’s jaw. ‘You know you’re the safest I’ve ever felt with anyone, right?’
Lisa shrugged and dipped her head shyly.
‘You are,’ Carla repeated. ‘I love you and I trust you and if you really want to wait six weeks then that's what we’ll do.’ She brushed a piece of golden hair back from Lisa’s face and leaned in to kiss her sweetly.
‘Thank you.’ Lisa murmured after pulling back.
______________________________
Underneath all the relentless thirsting, Carla found herself turning the whole being with a woman thing over quietly in her mind during the weeks Lisa insisted they wait. In truth, this whole thing didn’t feel like some dramatic revelation about her sexuality.
It just all came back to Lisa.
Lisa laughing so hard she snorted when tired or rubbing circles into Carla’s back during nightmares without even properly waking up herself. Lisa humming softly while she cooked dinner or shouting answers to TV quiz shows before the host had even finished reading the question.
Lisa sitting beside a hospital bed for weeks looking half dead from exhaustion because the idea of leaving Carla alone had apparently never once crossed her mind.
That was the thing Carla had fallen for - the rest of it had simply followed naturally afterwards.
Though admittedly the “rest of it” had followed with enough force to nearly finish her off when Lisa bent over unexpectedly in those bloody running shorts.
Carla had briefly wondered if there was actually a word for what she was.
Lesbian didn’t fit. Neither did straight anymore she supposed. On the other hand, bisexual seemed too vague - she felt like she needed something more specific.
She’d made a vague mental note to Google it but then Lisa had appeared carrying a step-ladder to fix a knackered kitchen spotlight and Carla’s train of thought had immediately derailed again because apparently even basic household maintenance was sexy now.
The point was, when Carla really examined it honestly, she realised she wasn’t actually worried about eventually sleeping with Lisa.
Nervous, yes. But that was to be expected - the first time with anyone new always came with nerves, didn’t it? Little anxieties about awkwardness and vulnerability and whether your body would cooperate at the right moments.
Especially when said body had recently survived being beaten, surgery and several weeks functioning mainly on painkillers and spite.
Underneath the nerves there was something far steadier - complete and absolute trust. Nobody had ever taken care of Carla the way Lisa did.
Lisa simply loved her with this quiet unwavering steadiness that made Carla feel safe in ways she genuinely hadn’t known were possible before.
The sex part, Carla eventually decided, was actually the least frightening thing about all of this. Because if there was one thing she knew with absolute certainty by now, it was this: Lisa Swain would never let her fall.
__________________________
If Carla had said she wasn’t counting the days to the end of week six down to the minute she would be lying spectacularly.
Unfortunately, she had put so much impatient energy into surviving her out of control hormones that she hadn’t actually put any thought into the whole seduction side of things. The day had finally arrived and, instead of excitement, she was in a full blown panic. She wanted everything to be perfect but for some reason was pulling a complete mental blank on how to get there.
Lisa was in meetings all afternoon and Betsy was on day two of a three day trip to London with friends from uni meaning Carla had the house entirely to herself. Pulling her phone out, she scrolled through her contacts and hit ‘call’.
‘Hiya love, you alright?’ Her friend’s cheerful voice answered after only a few rings.
‘No Michelle, I’m not.’ Carla tried to keep an edge of hysteria from creeping into her voice.
‘Why do you sound stressed?’ Michelle immediately sounded worried.
Carla hesitated just a fraction too long, enough time for the penny to drop.
‘OH MY GOD.’ Michelle gasped dramatically. ‘It’s Sex Day, isn’t it?!.’ She cackled.
‘Would you calm down?’ Carla huffed, blushing despite herself.
‘Right,’ Michelle said eventually, still wheezing slightly. ‘Tell me exactly what the problem is.’
‘I want tonight to be special.’ Carla sighed dramatically.
‘Okay?’
‘But what if she’s expecting something dead romantic and I completely mess it up?’
‘Carla...’ Michelle admonished gently.
‘What?’
‘Lisa spent six weeks timing your pain medication and helping you shower. I promise you she’s not secretly expecting a string quartet and rose petals.’
Carla paused. That was actually a fair point.
Michelle softened slightly. ‘She loves you, you numpty. She’s not waiting for some perfect movie moment. She just wants you happy.’
Something in Carla’s chest loosened a little at that.
‘Yeah,’ she admitted quietly. ‘I know.’
‘Good.’ Michelle paused. ‘Also, and I say this with love, whatever romantic meal you’re currently considering cooking? Don’t.’
By the time the call started winding down, she felt significantly calmer.
Michelle was right - Lisa didn’t need or expect perfection, she just needed honesty and warmth and maybe some decent takeaway.
Still though - no harm in making a bit of an effort. Glancing at the clock she picked up her phone again, the beginnings of a plan forming.
____________________________
An hour later Carla was standing in the kitchen when the front doorbell rang. She shuffled quickly toward the hallway, relief flooding through her as she opened the door.
‘Roy, you’re an absolute lifesaver.’ She ushered him in.
In one hand he held a large insulated shopping bag. In the other, a bottle of champagne poked out from beneath approximately twelve packets of tea lights. Three separate bouquets were tucked awkwardly beneath his arm like he’d recently mugged a florist.
‘Well,’ he said mildly while stepping inside, ‘you sounded close to a nervous breakdown on the phone.’
‘You didn’t need to do all this.’ Carla immediately grabbed one of the flower bouquets from him. She had called him asking if there was any chance he had a spare lasagne knocking around that she could take off his hands, explaining she wanted to treat Lisa for a change.
The contents of the bags slowly emerged across the kitchen counters like Roy was some sort of magical fairy godmother: a tray of lasagne, some garlic bread, a bottle of champagne, enough candles to illuminate a cathedral.
Carla stared at the display in genuine awe. ‘Roy…you’ve gone above and beyond here.’
Roy shrugged uncomfortably, fiddling with the paper around one of the bouquets.
‘Seriously. Thank you.’ Carla smiled warmly at him.
‘So,’ he said casually after all the bags were unpacked, ‘what exactly is the big occasion?’
Carla immediately felt heat climb straight into her face.
‘Oh. Er...’ She suddenly became deeply invested in putting the wine in the fridge. ‘No occasion really. I just thought I’d do something nice for Lisa.’
‘Ah.’ There was another deeply loaded silence as Roy suddenly became intensely focused on removing the cardboard sleeve from the garlic bread.
Carla could practically see him deciding in real time not to ask further questions for the preservation of his own sanity.
‘Well,’ he said carefully, still not looking directly at her, ‘that seems… thoughtful.’
Carla coughed awkwardly. Neither of them acknowledged the horrifying undercurrent of the conversation.
‘Do you require any additional assistance?’ Roy moved swiftly on.
‘Actually yes.’ Carla pointed immediately at the oven. ‘Can you show me what settings I need for the lasagne?’
Roy blinked once.
‘It’s relatively straightforward.’
‘Not for me it isn’t.’
With a quiet sigh of resignation, Roy walked her through the settings with painstaking precision while Carla nodded along solemnly like she was receiving complex technical instructions.
‘One hundred and eighty degrees,’ he said firmly. ‘Not two hundred. You’ll dry the béchamel.’ He looked at her pointedly, checking she was paying attention. ‘Foil on for the first thirty minutes.’
‘Okay.’ Carla began wondering if she should write this all down.
‘The garlic bread goes in for the final ten.’ He finished.
Once satisfied she wouldn’t accidentally cremate dinner, Roy collected his coat.
‘Well.’ He cleared his throat awkwardly near the doorway. ‘I shall leave you to your evening.’
‘Thanks again, Roy.’ Carla smiled warmly.
He gave a small nod and slipped out the door. She waved from the front step until his Morris Minor disappeared around the corner.
____________________________
By the time Lisa arrived home, the house had been transformed.
The sitting room and kitchen were lit solely by warm lamps and flickering candles, giving off an inviting glow. Flowers decorated every surface and music played softly to create a calming atmosphere.
She followed the unmistakable smell of garlic and tomato and melted cheese, shrugging off her coat as she went.
There she found Carla, who was bent slightly at the waist peering intently through the oven door with her hands braced on her knees, clearly deeply absorbed by whatever was bubbling away inside. Lisa stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of her.
She was wearing the black dress.
The same one she’d worn to Betsy’s fashion show all those months ago. Soft dark fabric skimming over her figure, hugging her in ways Lisa suddenly found profoundly distracting. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders and the candlelight turned her skin warm gold.
For one completely shameless moment Lisa’s eyes dropped lower. That dress really did fantastic things for Carla’s arse.
‘Well,’ She said eventually, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. ‘This is a lovely surprise.’
Carla startled so violently she nearly headbutted the oven.
‘Jesus Christ!’ She spun around clutching her chest. ‘You need to wear a bell or summat.’
‘What’s all this?’ Lisa looked around the candlelit kitchen again.
Carla shrugged, suddenly looking oddly bashful despite the fact she currently resembled every middle-aged lesbian fantasy rolled into one.
‘Nothing really. I just thought I’d treat you a bit.’ She shrugged easily.
Lisa looked around at the flowers and candles, the tablecloth and shiny place settings, and then back at Carla standing there in that bloody dress. Something warm and overwhelming cracked open inside her chest. Crossing the kitchen in three quick strides she kissed Carla hard enough that she made a surprised little noise against her mouth.
The kiss turned blistering almost immediately - six weeks of waiting and wanting and restraint simmering beneath the surface. Carla grabbed fistfuls of Lisa’s blouse instinctively, laughing breathlessly into the kiss as Lisa backed her gently against the counter. When they finally pulled apart, both slightly dazed, they stayed there for a moment with their foreheads resting together. Lisa’s hands settled at Carla’s waist carefully, thumbs brushing against the fabric of her dress.
‘I hadn’t forgotten what day it was, you know,’ she murmured softly. ‘You didn’t need to do all this.’
Carla’s expression gentled instantly. ‘Yeah, I did.’ She smiled shyly. ‘You’ve spent weeks looking after me.’ Her fingers traced lightly along Lisa’s collar. ‘I wanted to look after you for a change.’
Lisa genuinely thought her heart might burst. Before she could say anything embarrassingly emotional, Carla reached for a wine glass sitting ready on the counter and pressed it into her hand.
‘Go upstairs,’ she instructed firmly. ‘There’s a bath run for you.’
‘A bath?’ Lisa blinked.
‘Mhm. Dinner’ll be ready in about half an hour.’
Lisa went to obey, but not before sneaking a suspicious glance through the oven door.
‘Oi!’ Carla immediately smacked her lightly on the arm.
‘I’m just checking-’
‘Out,’ Carla ordered, pointing toward the hallway, nudging Lisa gently towards the door.
The blonde gave a mock salute and did as she was told, though not before stealing one last searing kiss.
_________________________
Dinner had turned out surprisingly well.
Well - technically Roy’s lasagne had turned out surprisingly well, but Carla was still taking partial credit given she had managed to reheat it without burning the house down.
Now the dishes sat abandoned in the kitchen because neither of them could quite be bothered moving from the sofa.
Soft music still played quietly in the background while candlelight flickered lazily around the living room. Lisa sat tucked into the corner of the couch with one arm wrapped securely around Carla’s shoulders, slowly finishing the last of her wine.
Meanwhile Carla was practically draped across her - one leg tangled with Lisa’s, head resting against her chest, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns across the soft fabric of Lisa’s t-shirt.
She could hear Lisa’s steady heartbeat beneath her ear and thought to herself that she could happily spend the rest of her life exactly like this.
Her fingertips drifted lazily over Lisa’s stomach again, causing Lisa to squirm slightly. A quiet laugh rumbled beneath Carla’s cheek. ‘Your seduction game is outrageously good, by the way.’
‘I’m not seducing you.’ Carla immediately felt herself blush.
‘Mmhmmm.’
‘I’m serious.’ Carla tilted her head back just enough to look up at her. ‘Honestly, if all we ever did was this, I’d still be the happiest woman in the world.’
Lisa’s entire expression softened and she looked dangerously close to falling in love all over again.
‘Having said that…’ Carla gave a saucy wink. ‘I would quite like to go to bed now. And not to sleep.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Lisa raised an eyebrow.
Carla’s blush deepened spectacularly but she held Lisa’s gaze anyway. Something warm flashed instantly in Lisa’s eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, she leaned forward and placed her wine glass onto the side table. Then she shifted, gently guiding Carla upright until they were sitting facing each other properly.
For a moment neither of them spoke as they just looked at each other.
Six weeks of waiting and wanting hanging quietly in the air between them.
Lisa stood first, then reached her hand out toward Carla, who took it immediately. She pulled her carefully to her feet, steadying her automatically when she stumbled slightly against her chest.
‘Still a bit wobbly there, Connor,’ Lisa murmured fondly.
‘Shut up.’ Lisa laughed softly and kissed her slowly.
For a while there was only warm mouths and wandering hands and the slow sway of their bodies together in the candlelit living room while music drifted quietly around them. Carla’s arms slid around Lisa’s neck instinctively as Lisa’s hands settled carefully at her waist.
They kissed for a long time. Eventually Lisa broke away just enough to rest her forehead lightly against Carla’s. Both of them were smiling now, slightly dazed and breathless. Lisa brushed her thumb softly across Carla’s cheek.
‘Come on then, Ms Connor.’ She murmured and Carla’s stomach flipped. ‘You’ve been patient long enough.’ Lisa grinned wickedly and began pulling her towards the stairs.
___________________________
Upstairs, warm lamp light glowed across freshly washed sheets. Carla stood beside the bed suddenly aware of everything all at once; her heartbeat, her breathing, the slight tremor in her fingers as Lisa stepped closer.
For weeks she had been impatient and frustrated. Half out of her mind wanting this woman. But now that it was finally happening, a different kind of nervousness crept in around the edges.
Lisa’s hands settled gently at her waist and squeezed lightly before reaching around Carla’s back and slowly unzipping her dress, kissing gently at her neck as she worked. Carla swallowed and moved her arms to hold the top of the dress from falling.
Her ribs had healed well according to the doctors, but the marks remained; pale lines and uneven skin mapping out the places her body had been cut open and stitched back together again. The scars criss crossed her abdomen like a roadmap on flesh - tracing out a lifetime of near death experiences. Her instinct was still to hide them.
Lisa seemed to sense the shift in her immediately.
Without a word, she gently took hold of Carla’s wrists and brought them to the side before carefully peeling down the material of her dress until it hung from her waist. She brushed her fingers lightly along one healed scar beneath Carla’s ribs, so gentle it almost hurt.
Then she looked up at her with such open tenderness Carla’s chest physically tightened.
‘Beautiful,’ Lisa murmured softly.
Carla choked out the faintest disbelieving laugh. ‘You’re biased.’
Lisa shook her head slowly. Her fingertips traced another scar with reverence, no sign of hesitation.
‘These tell the story of you surviving,’ she said quietly. ‘Of you fighting your way back time and again.’
Carla’s throat tightened unexpectedly as Lisa’s hands continued their gentle exploration.
‘There is not a single part of you I don’t love.’ She leaned in to whisper in Carla’s ear, before sucking the earlobe between her teeth and nipping.
Carla’s legs threatened to buckle, overwhelmed by love and lust and sensation. The kiss that followed felt different from all the others that came before, a slower, deeper and more deliberate discovery.
Lisa finished undressing her carefully, unhurriedly, as though she had all the time in the world. Every touch felt intentional, every kiss lingered. And when she finally guided her gently back onto the bed, Carla looked up at her with her pulse hammering wildly in her throat and thought, with absolute certainty: I have never trusted anyone this much in my life.
After that, everything blurred into sensation.
Lisa touched her like she was something to be cherished rather than simply desired and somehow that made everything infinitely more intense. Carla felt utterly adored. Worshipped, almost.
She had been with plenty of people before, but nobody had ever paid attention to her quite like this. Nobody had ever listened so carefully to every breath, every movement, every tiny involuntary sound she made.
Lisa’s hand made its way down Carla’s stomach, stopping just above the waistband of her underwear.
‘Are you sure?’ She looked up intently, searching for any hint of uncertainty. Carla didn’t answer. Sitting up she reached for them herself, pushing them down the tops of her thighs. Lisa helped them off the rest of the way and threw them blindly over her shoulder, causing Carla to giggle.
The giggle turned into a filthy, long drawn out moan as Lisa drew one finger slowly through Carla’s sodden folds. The blonde gasped too at the feeling of wet warmth. Adding a second finger, she circled tightly around the swollen bundle of nerves before thrusting them inside.
Carla’s eyes rolled back in her head as Lisa increased the speed of her thrusts, the heel of her hand pressing against her clit. Her hot mouth clamped itself around one of Carla’s straining nipples, unleashing an endless stream of babbling nonsense from the brunette.
Oh God…right there….don’t stop…fuck…please…yes….Lisa….I’m gonna…
Carla knew she was close, and when pleasure finally overtook her, it hit with a force that genuinely startled her.
It crashed and rolled through her completely, deep and overwhelming and impossible to contain; from the tips of her toes to the top of her head like wave after wave breaking open inside her body.
Afterwards she could do nothing except lie there blinking dazedly at the ceiling while her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Lisa laughed softly beside her, brushing damp curls back from Carla’s face and kissing her softly. It took nearly five full minutes before she could form anything resembling coherent thought again.
She rolled on her side and pinned Lisa with a smouldering look.
‘Well that was certainly worth the wait.’ She declared breathlessly. Lisa laughed and was about to say something about just rewards when she was pushed onto her back, Carla rolling atop her.
Lisa gasped at the feel of lips on her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point and again when a tentative hand cupped then squeezed her breast.
‘Love, you don’t have to…’ She started but was cut off by a filthy kiss.
Carla pushed herself upright on one elbow, still flushed and breathless and looking thoroughly wrecked. ‘Oh but darling,’ blunt nails scratched down Lisa’s torso. ‘I want to.’
Lisa squirmed and when Carla leaned down to kiss her again. The hand on her breast squeezed again as deft fingers pulled at her nipple.
A sound somewhere between a growl and a groan lodged in Lisa’s mouth as the fingers were replaced by Carla’s mouth. She buried her hands in brunette locks as Carla sucked and nipped and licked her way to Lisa’s other breast.
Any notions of performance anxiety Carla may have harboured flew out the window. Once she stopped overthinking and simply focused on Lisa - on the sounds she made, the way her body reacted, the way her fingers tightened helplessly in the sheets - everything else came surprisingly naturally.
She kissed her way down her girlfriend’s body, pulling down the pyjama shorts Lisa had thrown on after her bath and her underwear with them. Lisa’s legs dropped open reflexively and Carla nearly came again at the sight of her lying there beneath her, wet and wanton.
Settling between strong thighs, she hooked Lisa’s legs over her shoulders and slid her hands up to grip her gorgeous hips.
She looked up from beneath hooded eyes to find Lisa staring back at her, pupils blown, mouth slightly open as she lay panting above her. Holding eye contact, she licked a long slow path through Lisa’s silky folds.
The blonde’s eyes slammed shut and she let out the most sinful moan Carla had ever had the pleasure of hearing.
After that it was like instinct took over as she used her mouth and tongue to lick, suck and fuck Lisa into a writhing, shaking mess.
By the time Lisa finally came apart beneath her, she was breathing hard and laughing at the same time, visibly stunned by the whole experience.
When Carla eventually crawled back up the bed looking deeply smug with herself, Lisa stared at her incredulously.
‘You are seriously telling me that was your first time with a woman?’ She asked incredulously around big, gulping breaths.
Carla preened shamelessly under the praise. ‘What can I say?’ she murmured before kissing Lisa deeply, thoroughly, enough to pull another helpless sound from her throat. ‘Natural talent.’
Lisa reached up to cradle the back of her neck, still looking slightly dazed.
‘You are going to be so smug about this, aren’t you?’
Carla grinned lazily. ‘Already am.’
‘And now,’ she whispered against her mouth, eyes sparkling wickedly, ‘I’d quite like to crack on with my second time.’
Lisa’s laugh morphed into a sigh and her eyes slipped closed as Carla’s hand slid slowly down her body again.
After the long wait, she could very much get used to this.