Femmeslash Summer of Smut

Aug 29, 2003 16:13

My answer to my own challenge just went up over on founding_flaws, and here's the answer to the Femmeslash Summer of Smut challenge. *grin*

Rating: NC-17
Summary: Summer's a wonderful thing.
Pairing: Hannah/Susan
Disclaimer: Seriously, they're not mind and I don't make any money off them.


Pink Lemonade

Hannah drinks pink lemonade. It's really sort of strange, because I've known her for six years and I never knew that. I learned a lot of things I never knew about my best friend this summer.

***

Hands carefully undoing the long plait down her back. They slide through her long hair, teasing the knots lose and letting it fall free down around her. Soft fingers slip up to rub at her scalp, massaging lightly all the way down to the nape of her neck. They hesitate at the hairline behind her ears, teasing at the sensitive skin there.

***

She first ran into it when she was visiting her Muggle cousin in the States with her parents the summer after our second year. This same cousin is the one who sends her the mix now so she can have it back here in Britain. She told me once that it originally comes from mixing strawberries with the lemonade, but that this instant mix bears only a passing resemblance to strawberry lemonade, having neither real strawberries nor real lemons in its makeup.

She likes it anyway.

***

The hands lift the hair away from her neck, letting it fall over her shoulder while the hands continue their massage down her back. Warm breath drifts across her neck as the nimble fingers trace along the edges of her bra. Hard pressure pushes the tension out of her spine and from under her shoulder blades, and then the pressure is gone as a quick tickling motion leaves her shaking with suppressed giggles.

***

I thought the drink is really pretty awful. It's entirely unnatural, as opposed to good fresh squeezed pumpkin juice, and the sour edge to it always makes my nose wrinkle and sends shivers down my spine.

That's what Hannah says she likes about it.

***

The fingers find the edge of her shirt around the time a mouth carefully descends on the juncture between neck and shoulder. A gasp escapes her as gentle kisses and sharp, knowing bites are applied all along her neck. And the fingers just slide above the soft skin that has been revealed to them, occasionally pausing to run a careful nail along a rib or to elicit a shiver by dipping into the hollow of her belly button.

***

We set up this thing Hannah called a sprinkler on her lawn. Hannah pretended we were doing it for her little brothers, but she and I had just as much fun leaping through the spray of water as they did.

None of us had bothered to change into swim wear first, so our clothes ended up soaked and clinging to us, and the water was so deliciously cold on our skin.

***

An adventurous hand moves steadily upward, pausing briefly at the edge of her bra before continuing up. One finger moves oh so slowly along the soft satin, sliding over the top from one strap to the other before dropping lower to tease lightly at a nipple while the lips travel up to brush against her jaw.

Her head falls back, against the shoulder behind her as she breathes in, arching slightly up into those wonderful fingers.

***

That was the night was the first time she kissed me.

We were out on the lawn watching the stars, and then she was looming above me, staring down at me as though I was the most beautiful star she'd ever seen.

She said she needed to do it at least once, and if I didn't like it she'd never do it again, promised to never even mention it again.

Her lips were so soft, so gentle.

She stopped, and asked if I was ok. And I told her.

"If you never do that again I think I'll die."

***

The mouth is pressing kisses along her jaw, teasingly close to the edge of her mouth, so she turns slightly to meet the mouth in a passionate kiss.

Her reward - the hand slides up and slips over the edge of the bra before the fingers slide under the fabric, soft skin meeting soft skin. A hiss escapes her as the pad of a finger is run over her nipple while the other hand slides behind her, between their bodies and makes quick work of the clasp of the bra.

***

Her parents took us all to the seaside. Running along through the sand, diving into the ocean and letting the waves carry us back. It was amazing.

We found a bunch of local kids having a bonfire down the way and they invited us to join them. One of the boys convinced me to go for a walk with him and Hannah came after us, claiming she hadn't seen me leave and had gotten worried. After the boy had left I told her I knew perfectly well that she had seen me leave and that was why she'd gotten worried.

And then I kissed her.

***

Both hands are now roaming over her breasts, caressing them almost worshipfully as the mouth whispers sweet nothings into her ear. Something is suggested, and she moans in response, sounding almost as though she is begging for something.

The mouth widens into a smile as one of the hands leaves her breast and slides slowly down.

***

All summer, every time I've kissed her, Hannah's tasted like pink lemonade. Sweet and tangy and with just this hint of bitterness that sends shivers down my spine.

I don't like pink lemonade, except when I taste it on her lips and in her mouth. And then it tastes like summer and all things wonderful and I know why she likes it. Then I love it.

***

The hand makes quick work of the buttons holding her shorts together. And while one hand continues it's relentless assault on her breasts the second moves carefully down into her pants, nails scrapping lightly along the skin at the edge of the patch of tight blonde curls.

She turns her head for another kiss as the hand slides lower, fingers teasing at her folds.

***

The first time we made love we were in her bed. We'd fallen asleep curled up around each other every night that week, arms holding each other tight despite the heat.

She'd kissed me until I was nearly senseless with just the feel of her when I heard a muffled whisper. I don't think she'd meant to say it out loud, or at least not for me to hear, but I did.

"God Susan, I want you so badly."

"So take me."

The longest pause of my life. I thought she hadn't heard, or hadn't understood, or hadn't meant what she'd said. And then she was pressed up against me, kissing me as though her life depended on it, her hands everywhere, a knee pressed up between my legs.

"God," she'd gasped as I rocked against her, whimpering, and "Merlin," as she moved her kisses down along my stomach. "Beautiful," as she bit lightly into my thigh, and simply "Susan" before she kissed my pussy.

Anything she said after that was drowned out by my own cries.

***

As her legs open even farther a finger moves between the lips, rubbing against her clitoris and causing her to gasp into the mouth. The finger transcribes a small circle, and she writhes and moans, trying to goad the finger into faster, rougher motion. But the finger keeps up its gentle torment as the mouth smiles to itself.

The second hand joins the first, wrists pressed together in the tight confines of her shorts, but neither girls seem to care as the first slides deeper to make room, pressing into the wet tunnel as she cries out.

"Please!"

Her hair has slid so it falls over one arm of the dark haired girl, and she revels in its softness even as she revels in her lover's moans.

***

The summer will end soon. The days have been growing shorter and the nights cooler. We cling closer together, partly against the chill and partly against the knowledge of what Eloise or the others will think of us sharing a bed.

Maybe they won't care, but we won't know until we are there and we tell them, until it is too late for us to hide it.

I could never hide this.

***

As fingers press swiftly into her, driving her further towards completion, she lifts her hands above her head and reaches back, holding the body behind her close.

She is so close.

The fingers drive into her, wrist shifting against the fabric constraining them to get a better angle while a thumb strokes against her clitoris. And she cries out once more, shaking in the arms that encircle her, her muscles contracting around those wonderful fingers.

"Hannah!"

***

Soon the summer will be over, but I will never forget the taste of pink lemonade on her tongue, the salt sweat that gathers between her breasts, and the sharp tang of her cum.

I will never forget and I will never give this up.

Pink lemonade will always remind me of summer and her, and I will never be able to get enough of either now.
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