My GF; Fucking & How We Met Ch. 09

Author's Notes: Sex scenes are bookended with "~~~" for those uninterested in plot. For those interested in plot, I don't recommend this continuation chapter as a standalone piece. There's a geek check hidden in the text for my geekier friends to find if they want. And, as a redheaded little gay girl, I did irrationally hate Fred Wright.

Special thanks to CS for both continued encouragement and the correction of my rather horrid Filipino.

Please enjoy!

*

My sweet girlfriend and I laid in my warm bed and watched two episodes of "Doctor Who" before I hit my max on foolish British SciFi. Making it that long probably wouldn't be possible if I didn't have her provocative body to play with under the covers.

"We should probably get a shower in." I nuzzled the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her pretty blonde hair. "Go ahead. I'll catch up."

~~~I watched her smackable ass bounce toward the bathroom before I stood, stretched, and grabbed a waterproof pair of finger vibes attached to a wristband battery from my toybox.

She had already sudsed up by the time I got into my big walk-in shower with her. I in no way let that fact deter me. Instead, I kicked on the vibration and stepped behind her slippery wet body.

Nothing about my movements as I hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her tight to me suggested a particular interest in either of us getting cleaner. She wiggled back into me nonetheless. I kissed her neck through the spray and the rivulets running over her.

"Baby, I was just washing off."

"Later." I kept kissing her neck and ran my vibrating fingertips over her lower abdomen. I loved the way her breath hitched.

"But-"

"No." I pressed her to the wall, remaining tight behind her and spacing my feet well outside hers. She could get cleaned up to go downstairs later. I wanted her first. "Only very rarely will we leave a shower together without me cumming first. For you, it'll be closer to never. Do you understand?"

She nodded submissively. I held her hard to the slick tiled wall. My vibration hand slipped between us without stopping the contact of her sweet ass against my thighs. Between having been playing with her during the dumb show and the dominance of the position I had behind her, I'd already gotten my engine running.

The smooth skin of her back and shoulders was even softer under the hot water. She still smelled like her, but the scent of her green apple bodywash hung in the air as well.

My neck bowed and my cheek rested on her wet shoulder. My vibrating fingers found their way into my own snatch. Straight to my g-spot, no teasing and no waiting.

Despite how quickly I was bringing myself off, her breathing was heavier than mine and her body temperature higher. Both of us rather enjoy her being pinned and naked.

The back of my wrist pressed into her lower back as I set about making myself crazy with the vibrating tips of two fingers. With the hand not tight to her backside and in me, I braced myself against the tiled wall. Between that and the safety-first shower flooring (the whole sex-in-the-shower concept may have been novel for her, but I was not new to it by any definition), every part of my position over her was working for me.

I kissed and bit her shoulder, pushing her even more firmly into the wall and rocking her body so her cute nips would rub against the tile.

My own breasts pressed into her back. Her smooth, warm, wet, soft back. I put another hickey on her shoulder. She moaned amorously. I pushed her harder into the slick shower wall.

The stream from the hot shower reached its peak and sweat ran down my back.

My fingers were far from idle and I know exactly where to push my own buttons. Within minutes of having her at my mercy that way, I was getting myself off on her.

I growled and squirted, wondering for a moment at the difference in texture between my liquids, my sweat, and the flow from the shower. I sighed her name in my exhaled breath and simply held her in place. Tenderly, I kissed and nuzzled the skin I'd previously bit.

Then it was her turn. "Mine," I asserted, loudly enough to be heard over the spray.

I turned her to me. Hands on her naked shoulders, I pushed her vulnerable back no less firmly into the wall than her front had just been pushed. I kissed her mouth, hard. She opened to me reflexively and my tongue shot in, pressing hers to the floor of her mouth.

I kept her like that, making out under the hot spray, unable to talk or react much beyond accepting the fervor of my kiss. She gasped as I finally released her mouth to whisper in her ear.

"I want to play with you now. Are you going to take it like a good girl for me?"

She nodded.

"Say it."

"I will."

My hands lowered and my first fingers and thumbs took hold of her hardened nipples and twisted.

"Aah," she called out, feeling both the grasp of my fingers on her right nipple and the combination of that same grasp and the vibration on her left.

"Say it all," I demanded over the sound of the hot water hitting both our bodies.

"I'll take it like a good girl for you, Baby."

I more gently kissed her and caressed her nipples with the balls of my thumbs, rewarding and conditioning her verbal acquiescence to my will.

(Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't want a brainless automaton for a girlfriend. Nor would I want her to not be comfortable in speaking up; to feel like she couldn't express her creative impulses or her honest fears within our sex life. Still. C'mon. Tell me you'd be different with such a darlingly submissive girl?)

"That's my sweet princess." My hands slid back down between us. My vibrating fingertips grazed over her mound but left again quickly.

With her hands on my shoulders for stability and my left hand on her hip for - mostly - the same reason, I assailed her perky breasts.

Her hips jerked a bit in rhythm to my manipulation of her breasts as I first tightened one nipple and then the other with my vibrating fingers. Meanwhile, my lips travelled from her ears to her shoulders and back. My feet spread her legs so her feet were planted outside mine.

I still waited a little longer though, until her hip popping was regular and only checked by my firm hold on her. And maybe feeling her delightful little twitches as I engaged in vibrating breastplay kept me agreeably distracted. For a while.

"Baby, please?" she urged me on toward the main event.

"Okay, Precious girl," I acquiesced readily, "I'll bring you off."

"Thank you," she panted.

I growled and gave her one last tweak to make her squeal. "Happy to do it, Cutie."

Carefully, I pressed her dear head to my chest and then wrapped an arm below her armpits with my fingers splayed over her ribcage. I suspected that her knees would give out at some point and I didn't want her to fall and be hurt, of course. I also didn't want to be thwarted in my ravishing of her sweet body.

My vibrating fingertips drummed on her bare mound as she shook in raw anticipation. Certain that my hold around her midsection would work, my eager digits pressed into her wet and ready snatch. My experienced thumb worked her hot little clit while my fingers plunged into her unabated.

Her breath came in gasps and her slippery body rubbed against me. Her taut thighs squeezed my busy hand, not so much so that I was impeded in my effort. Still, tightly.

Drawing out the buildup was not my goal, not in such a difficult position and with her so very revved up. In fact, my vibration wielding hand moved so fast between her tightened thighs that I could imagine a literal fire was only being kept at bay by my hardworking showerheads spraying down her heated flesh.

Her body stiffened as I held her upright. Her own legs were no longer dependable weight bearing supports for her. She mewled beseechingly, even as I obliged her vocalized but unspoken demand.

Her moaning changed in pitch and her stiffened body seized as my pretty girl came. I liberated her clit and switched off the vibrations, only continuing to finger her briefly until her high moans became quiet whimpers. ~~~

I faced her away from me and carefully lowered us to the flat floor of my large shower, her spread legs between my spread legs. She leaned back comfortably against me, resting up as the water kept hitting us both.

At first, I idly caressed and murmured to her. After I realized how contented she was in being with me bodily in that place, I smiled fondly, grabbed a loofah, and washed every part of her I could reach without disturbing our genial embrace. So, basically sponging off her front and sides from her thighs up. That washed up most of her, really, and I made up for what I couldn't reach by washing what I could twice.

"I love you, Baby," she whispered back to my murmurings, her first words in minutes.

"I love you too, Jenny," I reciprocated easily, "How are you feeling?"

"Float-y."

"Good float-y?"

"Very good float-y."

"Fabulous."

"Baby?"

"Yes?"

"Can I still wash my hair?"

"Yes," I laughed, "but how 'bout I take care of that?"

I massaged her shampoo into her scalp and through her healthy blonde hair, pulled down a shower wand and rinsed it out, then repeated the process with conditioner and another round of shampoo. My actions weren't necessarily sexual in the strictest of senses, but her increase in breathing rate, body heat, and vocalizations of pleasure were and they affected me greatly.

"Gorgeous, I want you again," I expressed my rekindled desire, but wasn't sure she'd be ready to go again. "You wanna take on the Flurry?"

"I'm yours," she sighed happily.

"I know, but do you want to get fucked again so soon?" I stroked her arms and stomach, her body still weak from orgasm.

"Always? I like being yours."

"My sweet girl," I kissed her wet shoulder, which still tasted ever so slightly of her green apple shampoo, "you're mine whether I'm actively fucking you or not," another kiss to her shoulder, "the question on the table is whether you'd like to be fucked again now? Or chill for a bit first or have sex another time altogether? We're moving in together today. We can be together physically as often and as intimately as you want from now on."

"Now, please?"

I grinned, "Yes, dear." I took her hand, stood us up, and reached for the taps.

"Wait, Baby?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Your hair's not washed."

"I'll risk it being greasy for a day." It was one thing - a good thing and a requisite thing - to hold off on having sex with my girlfriend when I wasn't sure she was up for it, but there were very few other acceptable justifications for delay.

"Can I wash it?"

Such as when my cherished girlfriend wants something..."Yes, you can wash my hair."

It became quickly apparent that our height difference made her sudsing up my hair a little trickier than it needed to be, so I knelt before her. And I mostly behaved myself, giving in only at first to the urge to grab her hips, lean in, and tongue out her innie belly button.

Once I released her, she crossed the shower to get my lavender shampoo and my lavender conditioner. A generous dollop of shampoo in her palm was rubbed by nimble fingers into my thoroughly wetted hair. She washed, rinsed, conditioned, and rinsed my long hair again so lovingly, like she treasured my red mane. It was an odd, unconscious, and extremely effective foreplay.

The final rinse took quite a long time, but I patiently waited on my knees as she completed her sensual cleansing. "Are you done, Sweetness?"

"Yes," she conceded with a touch of regret in her soft voice.

"Good. Thank you. You're getting fucked now."

She giggled.

I was going to fuck her right off, I swear I was. But she shivered after I turned off the hot water, so I wrapped her in a terrycloth robe and blasted her with my Dyson. I dried my own hair to dampness too, before ushering her back to my bedroom.

~~~With ease, I laid her - still robed - on her back on my bed, "Stay put, Playmate," I bade her and she nodded a satisfying concurrence. Her lazily eyeing me also pleased me immensely as I strapped on the Flurry and crawled across the bed to her.

The fact that she'd bothered to cinch her robe was adorable, but I soon fixed it, baring her torso and upper legs to view and touch.

Concerned at the difficulty of obtaining tactile certainty that she was wet-wet versus shower-wet, I spread her legs and kissed her inner thighs until I reached the glorious place where her legs met and determined that she was indeed wet-wet. Whatever my reasoning, seeking such knowledge from sapidity was far from a hardship and I lingered there to both develop and devour the yummy honey I found.

My tongue slipped happily into her tasty cunny, nose brushing her clit. I'd have stayed down there to bring her off orally - at least once - if I hadn't already promised the both of us that a good rogering was in the immediate offing.

Instead, I trailed kisses and licks over her feminine mound, her flat tummy, her delectable breasts, slender shoulders, narrow neck, and pointed chin, before honing in her supple lips. My tender caresses followed faithfully behind my oral ministrations, stopping to play sweetly with her pretty breasts.

We kissed as I fondled her, making out with no great rush or concern. My legs tangled with hers. Her hands played with my hair, making me glad that I'd taken the time both to let her wash it and to dry it myself enough that her fingers could tangle in my mop with relative ease and comfort.

"I'm going-" I started, but had difficulty finishing the sentence betwixt and between kissing her, "to *kiss* fuck you *kiss* now?" I finished my question. And it was a question. We could have made out a while longer or not passed first base if she wanted. Or, second base, really. I was definitely still manipulating her cute tits.

Have you ever been kissing a person who tries to nod urgently while your tongue is in their mouth? It's awkward and I got bit a little.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed.

"I don't care, Nibbles." I switched positions to more easily mount her, laying across her body, forearms hooked in beneath her armpits and hands against her upper back. "But don't stop kissing me until you have to in order to keep breathing."

Her smiling with my tongue in her mouth is much better.

I freed a hand for a moment to line up the strapon and used my body weight to slowly push into her until feeling her skin on mine, then pulled back for a long, smooth, gentle stroke. I maintained that stroke to our mutual relish.

She obediently and delightfully kept kissing me. Her mouth still tasted like the minty toothpaste she'd used before I stepped in on her in the bathroom. She smelled cleanly of fresh green apple. She sounded like a woman enjoying me fucking her.

"Mmm," my girlfriend tried to speak, "*kiss* faster? *kiss* please?"

I smiled into her lips and upped my pace and power, quickly moving from slow and gentle to swift and vigorous. The kisses broke off as I fucked her cheek-to-cheek, her desperate mewling and heavy breathing in my ear and my grunts and dirty talk in hers.

"That's it, Sexy. Fuck yeah. Good, good girl," Not strikingly original, but clear and encouraging.

"With, yeah, good, uh, yes!" Weirdly, her answers were no less clear or encouraging.

The slamming together of our sweating bodies continued until long after she stopped making intelligible words. Her moaning remained equally effective on me and my passion overflowed first, but hers was only a half a dozen strokes behind me.

She screamed aloud and then strangled off the sound with a conscious effort.~~~

"They," I panted, "Can't. Hear you. Kitten." I referred to my friends and houseguests, assuming that she worried that they might have heard her final and obstreperous scream.

I ceased my rutting and removed the toy from her depth while she laid blissed out on her back. The strapon and harness were quickly tossed to the floor and I used the baby wipes by the foot of the bed to clean us both up again. Honestly, at least half our showers are probably largely a waste of time in the purest hygienic sense.

I jumped back in my big warm bed with my still pretty damp girl and got all snuggly. She'd had time to think though.

"Baby," she started in, "do your friends know?"

"'The way to San Jose?'" I joked, staving off the serious conversation I saw cresting the horizon. "Doubtful, but they can use GPS."

She made the same polite, but slightly irritated, grunting noise that she makes every time I try to be funny, but succeed only in being obtuse.

"No, what do your friends know about me?" she asked earnestly. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them that I love you, that you're shy, and that you're a giant nerd." I squeezed her shoulders as I teased my dear little giant nerd.

"But, you didn't tell them about like when I was younger or the psychiatrist stuff?"

"No, Angel," I reassured her. "They don't need to know anything you don't want them to know. You can tell them anything you want, but only when and if you're ready. And anything you want them to know, but don't want to tell them, I can tell them for you. Okay?"

"Okay," she answered immediately, but then took a few seconds to parse the permutations of her options. "That works." Then she was quiet.

"Another episode of 'Doctor Who' then?" I'd like to say that I've developed a better strategy since then for when she looks to be getting down in the doldrums than distracting her with a geek-verse option, but I really haven't.

It's not her foster care or group home experiences that get her down the most when she thinks about them, although her time there and with extended relatives wasn't good for a multitude of reasons. It's thinking of her late parents that's hardest on her.

We're both effectively orphans, even though I can't definitively prove it in my case. Her experience being orphaned was so much worse though.

I knew I had a hole in my life growing up where loving parents should have been. But that's all it was, a hazy and unformed mom/dad void that bothered me but not acutely. The lack of security in my life demanded by necessity the forefront of my concerns, taking constant precedence over the lack of parental love. Certainly I thought myself deprived in that respect, but the thought generally only danced at the edge of my consciousness.

Conversely, her parents were ripped from her when she was old enough to understand it and too young to face it. I think that losing parents early must be massively more painful and lasting than than the emptiness of not having parents.

I hugged her to me and nuzzled her, but didn't say anything. She hugged me back, not questioning the affection as her show distracted her. I caressed her hair and toyed casually with her firm breasts and firmer stomach.

My phone dinged. Jenny groaned.

"Melody made brunch. Think you two can get out of bed long enough to eat?" Teeg texted me with her usual lack of diplomacy.

"Be down in a few." I texted back, and then to my girl, "C'mon, time to get up and face Moving Day."

"Nrha, I..." Her phone lit up with a text and her face lit up with a smile. "Oooooh. Melody made waffles and bacon and she's firing up Denver omelets!" Her feet and knees bounced as she couldn't contain her sudden burst of glee.

"Yeah," I kissed her forehead, charmed by her honest exuberance. "You should've tried to move in with Melody. The food would be way better."

"I bet the sex wouldn't be though," she answered off the cuff. Then turned beet red.

I giggled like a schoolgirl at both her answer and her embarrassment. That gave her implicit permission to giggle too as I rolled her onto her back and snogged her.

My phone dinged again, this time from Nic, "srsly"

That time I groaned, "Let's go," I sat up and patted her thigh.