Fic: Sofa Aftermath
Title: Sofa AftermathChallenge: Written for insanityonline1 in the bo_lauren Winter Fanworkstravaganza; Prompt: "1x06. Bo turned Lauren on during their lesson? What's Lauren going to do now?"
Fandom: Lost Girl, Bo/Lauren
Word Count: 1,465
Sofa Aftermath
They part ways almost immediately after their near kiss. Lauren too frustrated to prolong their night together. Bo too tempted by the blinding energy coming off the blonde to even attempt to return the chaste kiss to the cheek the other woman gives her when they awkwardly say their goodbyes.
Lauren rolls her eyes at herself when she finally exits the Dal and hits the street. She takes a second to pull herself together. It is not easy. She is throbbing with the aftermath of unanswered arousal. That moment with Bo on the sofa was sweet, painful torture.
It amazes Lauren that all the succubus did was touch one of her hands. The memory makes that hand tingle. She rubs it slowly against her thigh and feels a deep shudder shake her body. It is a dangerous, powerful memory. She cannot imagine how it would have felt if the other woman had actually touched something more… intimate.
She smiles as she looks up into the night sky. Talk about libido and energy flow. She could probably light up a small town right about now.
Or electrocute yourself, Lauren.
God. What is that thing that Bo does when she touches her? She wants more of that.
The subway trip back home is agonizing. She can feel her own wetness between her thighs. Her blood is rushing through her pelvis, causing a pulse to beat persistently where her too tight jeans press uncomfortably against her center. Whatever it is that Bo did to her, it is clearly not going away easily. And her unruly thoughts are not helping either.
When she sits down, she crosses her legs to try and ease some of the pain. But she ends up pressing her thighs together, and almost involuntarily, rocking her hips. It only makes things worse as the seam of the jeans rides up into her need. Her stomach clenches at the feeling, sending a bolt of fire along her spine. She gasps out loud, drawing curious looks from fellow travelers. For a moment, she is afraid she may come right there, on the subway, surrounded by strangers. She flushes bright red, but she manages to hold onto it. She waits for a moment before uncrossing her legs and lifting her ass slightly, discreetly pulling the jeans away from her body, trying to create some space between them and her painfully aroused flesh.
Clearly, the tight jeans were a poor choice of outfit.
But it is not the jeans. She knows. It is her skin that is on too tight right now.
She feels downright perverted when an attractive thirty something brunette sits almost on top of her, sharing the tiny subway plastic bench. She smells wonderfully. Lauren spends most of the trip trying to avoid looking down the other woman’s shirt, and failing miserably. Then, when the brunette winks at her as she exits the train, Lauren spends the last part of the trip feeling like the worst kind of idiot.
She blows a loose tendril of hair that has fallen across her face as she smiles sardonically at herself. She should have the patent on defective gaydars. Seriously.
When she finally gets to her apartment she is too keyed up for sleep. The trip back has not really helped to take the edge off, and she cannot stop thinking about Bo. The desire for the succubus is still humming along her nerve endings, and she fears she may not be able to sleep if she goes to bed.
Not without getting some relief first.
It would not take much, Lauren knows, not considering how hard and hot she is. A few well-placed strokes and a little pressure and she would lose it.
She tries to give herself a lecture. She has to work with the succubus, she will not have jerk off fantasies about her. She peels off her too tight clothing as she moves towards the bathroom. A shower is what she needs.
A cold one.
She gets into the shower and pours a liberal amount of shampoo into her hands. She washes her hair quickly, almost brusquely at first. Her movements are jerky. She is mildly angry at how things have unfolded. She is upset with Bo, for not trusting her. For stopping. But mostly, she is upset with herself, for wanting Bo this much.
It just has been too long for Lauren. She can hardly remember the last time she had any.
She is ripe for it.
So. So. Ready.
She rinses the shampoo off her blonde hair and applies some conditioner. Normally, she likes her hair but she wishes it had a bit more natural volume. That makes her think about Bo again. The succubus has lovely, thick black hair. Lauren would love to run her fingers through it. It looks soft and inviting.
She turns around in the shower, facing the spray. The water hits her face, her stomach, her breasts, her thighs. It makes her nipples stiffen and ache to be touched. She puts some body soap into a soft yellow duck-shaped sponge. It is a silly sponge but it always makes her smile. She begins to relax almost as soon as she starts washing her arms and upper body.
When she gets to her breasts, she whimpers at the feel of her own hand touching the sensitive skin. Her eyelids flutter closed at the touch. But closing her eyes is a bad decision. Images of herself and Bo nearly kissing at the Dal dance behind her closed lids. Memories of Bo hitting her with that energy pulse-thing she does fly to the forefront of her mind. She imagines Bo’s firm body pressed along the length of her own, naked, her hands on her breasts, one leg between both of hers as the succubus slowly rocks against her, putting pressure where she needs it most.
Before she knows what she is doing she has dropped the sponge and she is caressing her breasts more intently. Cupping herself. She catches her nipples between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, squeezing lightly.
It feels good.
She can feel her control slipping as she starts to squeeze both of her nipples rhythmically, pulling at them slightly. She is aching. She knows she is open and ready. She never lost the hard, heavy fullness that started at the Dal, when Bo’s energy had flown through her whole body and landed on her center, making her clit expand and demand contact.
She knows that if she touches herself, she will not be able to stop. But she is too far gone now. She imagines Bo’s fingers where her own are as she moves one of her hands lower, touching her stomach, and then, even lower, reaching to brush through the soft hair at the base of her belly, rivulets of warm water caressing her inner thighs and stomach.
She needs to ease the pressure, she cannot think of anything else. So she reaches down, spreading her labia, teasing the delicate moist lips surrounding her distended clit. She slides one finger between her lips very slightly, just brushing the tip of her clitoris. The brief contact makes her gasp. Her hips jerk. She does it again, just teasing herself. Like she imagines the succubus may do. Any other day, she would torture herself, teasing lightly until she cannot take anymore. But not today. She is too impatient. So she slips two fingers purposefully inside her folds, placing one finger on either side of her clitoris and tugging.
‘Oh-, god.’ She moans quietly, opening her legs wider, until her feet touch the sides of the bathtub. She can feel herself pulsing against her fingers. Her thighs start to shake. She braces herself against the shower glass door to stay upright.
Her mind empties of everything except the sensation of her fingertips rubbing over her engorged flesh. Her muscles quiver as a pounding pressure builds between her legs. Neck arched, she thrusts her hips back and forth as her hand moves faster, fire spreading through her limbs. It takes no time. As she starts to come, she slides her fingers inside, impaling herself, and starts thrusting quickly and deeply, the heel of her hand pressing into her clitoris, milking each pulsation, prolonging the contractions. Faintly, she hears herself whimper with each thrust.
Afterwards, she leans forward into the spray, palms against the white tiles of the wall, feeling weak as a kitten, as the tail end of her orgasm triggers some final contractions. She throws her head back to feel the water against her face, cascading down her body, soothing her.
In her mind, she can see Bo smiling at her. Giving her that Cheshire cat grin of hers.
She has to smile, too.
FIN.