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Love is…
Love feels like this.
It’s a familiarity. A deep sort of understanding. It’s just so implicitly understood that Kelly can’t really find a description of it.
Kelly always thought of herself as complex, as a deeply misunderstood person. A language that could not be easily deciphered, something too complex, too unique. But Alex reads her like she’s got the Rosetta stone beside her, she decodes the complex, pulls apart the threads of the unique until her bare meaning is in front of her.
Alex pulls her apart piece by piece, word by word. Until she is just pure sound and emotion, poured out onto white sheets.
It’s easy, really. To define sex as an act done to another person, rather than with another person. But Alex touches her, and Alex is present in a way none of those few hookups that Kelly has had ever were.
Alex is beneath her now, her head thrown back and her eyes blown even darker than their natural earthen brown. She stares up at her with a flush upon her cheeks, her hips arching up into every forward surge of her hips.
The strap between them comes back slick each time, with the sound to match as such, and Alex curves her spine till her chest meets Kelly’s, her arms loop around her back.
Alex doesn’t let her do this often, not out of any sort of discomfort but because Alex’s desires to touch, to feel, to worship - often overwhelm her desire to be touched. To be felt. To be worshipped .
And that’s what Kelly does now, but really, Kelly would be forgiven for thinking that Alex is the one doing the worshipping anyways. Her lips brush against any skin that they can reach, open wide in a perpetual state of gasping and exhaling. Her fingers run across Kelly’s skin, across her arms, across her sides, they drag against her back, press heavy into her shoulderblades.
Kelly gets her onto her front. It’s not without pressure of her own, but then Alex is face down in the mattress with her hips tilted upwards and gasping, pleading, her sounds becoming needy little cries as Kelly thrusts into her. The pressure against Kelly gives her satisfaction but she could probably get off on the sound alone, on the feeling of the strap reluctant to leave Alex’s clenching muscles.
“Harder,” Alex gasps between moans, and Kelly acquiesces, but with a slower pace.
It becomes something akin to the push and pull of the waves then. Kelly pushes, and hits that place deep within her. Alex surges forwards, her back muscles ripple and she buries her face deeper into the pillows with a groan. Kelly pulls back, and Alex follows, caught in the riptide of her.
It’s hypnotic, it’s rhythmic, something innate to them both. Alex knows how to dance this dance, as does Kelly. All too soon, it draws closer and closer to the natural conclusion.
“Let go for me,” Kelly breathes, bending over to whisper hotly into her ear- “I want to feel you. I want to feel what you feel when you fuck me like this,”
Alex keens at the thought, a high pitched sound as Kelly’s hips pick up the pace, and the slapping sound of Kelly’s hips meeting Alex’s flesh fill the room, along with Alex’s desperate gasps. Pleasure shoots like sparks from flint striking metal, as the bands of the strap brush against Kelly’s clit with every thrust, in and out.
It’s only natural that it happens after that. Kelly pushes Alex down, her presence not domineering, but more… comforting. To let Alex know that she has. her now, has all of her. That it’s okay to let go, to give into the overwhelming need for release.
Kelly holds her, and Alex fractures, shudders apart underneath her. Her hips stutter, and she cries out into the pillow, a muffled sound of rapture that becomes a series of gasps as Kelly doesn’t let up, as she works her through it.
Kelly holds her through the whole thing. Holds her down, and then bends over to shower her with kisses, with affection. Alex’s eyes are forced closed and her neck strained in a silent cry which passes with a choked gasp instead, and her back arches into Kelly’s body as the shudders wrack every inch of her.
Kelly understands why it’s often called a ‘little death’, especially when she follows suit.
It becomes something of a reckoning, when they’re both lying there, gathering their breath. It is a moment that feels like it goes for an eternity, but also only a few seconds. Kelly pulls out, wriggles the strap till it’s halfway down her thighs then kicks it off the rest of the way. Alex pulls her into her arms, and the kisses they share are inaccurate, they miss the mark, they’re just the hot press of lips against chin and nose and lip and anything that they can reach, the warm rush of breath against skin as their hearts slow down, and things gather back to a normal momentum.
The comedown is perhaps as momentous as the rise. Alex’s hips twitch with aftershocks, Kelly can feel as much as Alex rises on top of her, and kisses her messily and her hips move back and forth.
There are things said, that become lost in the post-orgasm haze.
“I love you,” says Alex, and Kelly murmurs her understanding as Alex breathes again- “so fucking much.”
“I know,” Kelly says, “forever.” she says, and it’s true but it’s also something that should never be said, it is something that should be implied but she places it into words because the hormones rushing through her want it to be said, they want this forever.
Alex gets herself between Kelly’s legs, but between that and her tongue on her sex Kelly ends up on top. Her thighs bracket Alex’s face, and her hands and torso rest against the bedframe and the wall.
The plasterboard is cool, but the heat of Alex’s face is so much against the most sensitive, moist parts of herself. She’s dripping after seeing Alex bent and fracturing below her, and that much is evident as Alex explores her with a seeking tongue.
She moans her pleasure, and Kelly gasps out her own into the open air. It’s so much for her to feel, to experience. The pleasure seems unending, Alex’s tongue finds the point of her clit which feels like an extension of her brain itself, and plays it back and forth to get her to shudder, to fracture above her. Alex knows how to toy with her opening too, to send her tongue delving inside to get her accustomed to the stretch, to let the pleasure strike up her spine before searching fingers widen her further and seek out the points to bring her the most pleasure.
She plays her like an instrument, strumming the points that cause the loudest sounds out of her with expert precision. She plays her to a breaking point, and holds her there, a crescendo which hangs in open air, her body taught like a bowstring until Kelly’s hands wrap in Alex’s hair and pull to the point of pain, her own form of begging.
Release isn’t a wave. It’s a thunderclap across her body, it’s resonance ringing out across her body, down to the very tips of her extremities.
Alex’s hands move to steady her as she comes, and she laps her up with broad strokes, changing her pace now to drag her through those aftershocks like it’s her god-given duty. Kelly laughs, and it barely registers as a sound from her own voice with how her head seems to ring with it all.
They end up flipped on the bed, their heads where their feet usually lie. The covers are strewn around them and the hour is late enough for the room to be cast in full darkness, and not a single sound disturbs them.
It’s late, and Alex kisses her chest as her heartbeat settles. They stare at each other in the dark. In the dark, Alex notices that Kelly is kissed by the moonlight, and her eyes sparkle like the depths of a river. Unfathomable, unknowable, eternal. Her hair is strewn about her face, against sweat-slicked skin and Alex brushes it aside to kiss her again, and again, and again.
This is worship, of a deeper kind.