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Nothing about this trip is going right for Deborah. It was supposed to be a chance for her to get in with all the shareholders, but they’ve already picked someone else. It had been such a long shot, but God, she wanted it. It doesn’t help that Ava had been distracting her by shamelessly flirting with some other woman right in front of her. She hates it. Absolutely hates everything about it. Ava’s here to spend time with her and to help her get the late night job. Not to find someone else to be with. God, she isn’t sure when she became this possessive over someone who isn’t even hers to possess. It was bad enough when she had that actress girlfriend back in LA. Deborah should feel bad for the role she played in ending that relationship, but she can’t.
Deborah’s a jealous person by nature. It’s just how she operates. If someone has something, she needs it too, but it’s bigger. She might be flirting with Bob, but that doesn’t mean Ava gets to so shamelessly flirt with some woman with giant tits. It’s not like she can’t tell how much Bob bothers Ava, just like Marty bothers her. They’re in this weird limbo right now. When they’re together, neither one of them tolerate someone else taking up any of the other’s time. Not someone who can be perceived as a threat.
“Can’t you focus?” Deborah snaps at her. Her sour mood infected their whole day. “Honestly, it’s almost pathetic.”
“Oh, and what are you doing with Bob is any better?” Ava snipes back. “Acting like you don’t know how to golf. You’re going to go crawling back to Marty next.”
Ava looks over at her briefly while driving the golf cart, “we’re not doing this anymore.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Deborah asks.
“I’m really sorry you didn’t get the job. It’s bullshit and sexist and ageist, but I don’t like it when you take it on me,” Ava’s different now. More assertive. She’s grown a lot while they were apart. “If something’s bothering you, just tell me.”
Deborah turns away, almost petulant, “Nothing’s bothering me.”
Ava takes one hand off the steering wheel, nudging Deborah’s thigh with her knuckles in an attempt to annoy her into turning her head. “You know I’ve heard repressed rage causes wrinkles.”
“Is that right? Is that what caused yours?” Deborah fires right back at her.
“I’m just saying. Might want to stop drinking out of a straw like a weirdo and focus on not repressing everything you feel. Look, I can tell something’s bothering you. All I’m saying is I’m here if you want someone to talk to,” Ava’s hand still lingers pressed up against her thing. She can tell that there’s so much more she wants to do, but she won’t.
Not until Deborah asks for it, and she’s not going to. Not now when they’re on a golf course surrounded by so many people.
“You might want to move your hand. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” Deborah’s closing herself off again.
Ava’s overly open. She has been since the moment they met. Deborah needs to be coaxed. Alternating between hot and cold. When she wants to be open and vulnerable and when she doesn’t. Right now, she’s firmly in the I’d rather die than be open about my feelings side of things.
Everything’s been wrong since Ava’s been back. They can’t even go on a walk together without it going wrong. There’d been a moment when she thought they would be trapped in the woods together when she almost told her. Recognizing how hypocritical it was to give that whole speech about not waiting for things to happen or for the right time for things to happen and just go for it. Her mind has already been conspiring on how she can keep Ava with her or at least in her orbit. This year apart just proved how much she wanted her or needed her really.
She turned Ava down for dinner tonight because she couldn’t stand the look of pity on Ava’s face. Deborah can tell how hard Ava is trying to hold back from her when all she wants is to provide the comfort she will not let herself have. Deborah won’t ask for it, and Ava won’t risk giving it in case she gets pushed away again, so they’re left in limbo.
Deborah goes to look for her, regretting her choice. She doesn’t want to be alone right now, after all. Wandering into the restaurant area just in time, she sees Ava running after that same blonde woman from the golf course. Her back towards Deborah, but she doesn’t seem to notice she’s there. A liquid dinner it is.
She won’t let herself be sad or wallow. Instead, she goes to the driving rage to take out her aggression on the golf balls. Different images flash in her mind. Ava somewhere with that woman. Bob Lipka and Jack Danby having that meeting taking away the thing she’s wanted most. Alternating between swings of her golf club and swigs of wine. Ignoring every twinge in her ankle and every pang in her heart. She should have known better than to allow herself to get herself wrapped up in this stupid, unhealthy, codependent (or at least that’s how DJ described them, parroting some lingo from her therapist). DJ was wrong. Maybe laughter or attention is her addiction, but Ava’s becoming one too.
Deborah’s drawn out of her stupor by a voice. “Hey.”
Bob is probably here to work on his terrible swing, which he obviously doesn’t think is terrible. But then again, men aren’t very good at admitting when they’re not that talented at something. They hit a few balls each, not really talking to each other, but there’s a tension there. Like they’re both unsure of what to say to each other right now.
Deborah takes another swig of her wine and then holds the bottle to him, gesturing for him to take it.
“You know, no one’s probably told you this, but your swing is terrible,” Deborah says. He’s not giving her the job, so there’s no real reason for her to be nice to him anymore or to pretend like she still needs his help.
Next thing she knows, she’s helping him with his swing. It’s flirty, but honestly, she doesn’t know if she’s actually into him or if she feels the need to fuck someone because Ava is. Jealousy and hurt result in self-destructive behavior. She’s pulling a card directly from Ava’s playbook.
She grabs Bob’s hips and wonders how Ava’s being touched right now. Her mind conjures up images she doesn’t want to see, but she can’t stop imagining. And every flash makes her stomach churn with anger and jealousy.
Bob tries to kiss her, and Deborah moves her head away, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
She just can’t focus because she can’t stop thinking about Ava being with someone else. Her words from the woods echoed in her mind. She pushed away how she felt and said she just couldn’t do that anymore. Already dreading Ava leaving her to go back to LA. Why can’t one day be today?
What are they really accomplishing right now? Both of them are just fucking miserable. They’ve been miserable. Denying each other isn’t doing anything anymore. She spent hours of their trip in the woods wrapped in Ava’s arms, and it felt so good. Being in Bob’s just felt wrong. He was too tall; his hands didn’t feel right on her body after she’d gotten so used to having Ava’s on her. It just felt so empty she couldn’t go through with it.
Being shameless didn’t get her the late night job, but maybe it will get her something else. Ava’s never been subtle about her feelings for her. Deborah’s pretty sure that girl doesn’t have a subtle bone in her body. Over the two years they’ve known each other (even the time they were apart), she managed to chip away at the steel walls Deborah surrounded herself with. And now, she’s simply too tired to keep them up. She wants Ava, and she wants Ava to know how much she wants her. Because she can’t keep doing this. Can’t keep having Ava in her head constantly.
Ava, who’s still off with that woman, and then Deborah gets angry again.
Deborah stalks back to the bar. Fucking Ava in her head again. She can’t go to a fucking poop party without Ava in her mind. She can’t hook up with a guy who’s really into her anymore because she can’t stop picturing Ava with someone else.
The last person she expected to see sitting on a stool leaning on the bar was Ava, nursing a glass of white wine. She planned to get herself another bottle of wine so she could stew in her room, thinking about what she’d say to Ava when she saw her tomorrow.
Ava turns her head as Deborah gets closer. Like she’s got her own personal Deborah spidey senses that let her know when she’s getting close. Her face lights up, “D!”
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Deborah says, slamming the empty wine bottle onto the counter and motioning for another one.
Ava’s a little tipsy now, “I told you I was coming here.”
“Yeah, and then I saw you leave,” Deborah’s unable to keep the bitterness out of her tone. “Where’s your hot oil heiress?”
“She’s a Republican,” Ava says, still pissed off about that entire situation, “also, she was only interested in me when she thought I was a caddy.”
“Caddy’s really do it for her?” Deborah says, raising an eyebrow.
“Apparently, she had some fantasy about pissing on a caddy,” Ava says, staring at her wine glass.
Deborah laughs, “I’m sorry, what?” She leaves it to Ava to lead with the political affiliation she doesn’t agree with. You know, not the piss kink.
“Yep, she wanted to piss all over me,” Ava says with a nod of her head. It was not really what she was expecting when she thought she was going to be dominated by a hot older woman.
“Well, that might be worse than my night,” Deborah says, “I almost fucked Bob Lipka.”
She’s slightly exaggerating, but she wants to get a reaction out of Ava. She wants her to feel even an ounce of the jealousy she’d experienced.
“Get it, Deborah. Why didn’t you?” Ava says, but she has that little tone in her voice that she gets sometimes when she’s trying really hard to be happy about something, and she isn’t.
“He’s married. I don’t sleep with married men,” Deborah says. She doesn’t say that she couldn’t commit to anything with him because she could only think about Ava being with someone else. Someone else touching her and having her when Deborah doesn’t.
Ava hides a smile behind her wine, “I’m sorry, Deb.”
“No, you’re not.” Deborah can’t be mad, though. Not when she’s just as happy that Ava’s night was just as bad.
“Not at all,” Ava says, a satisfied little smile on her face. Her foot brushes up against Deborah’s ankle. Lightly, not exactly playing footsy, but it’s a connection. They’d been doing that more lately. Little subtle touches to the woods giving them even more of a sense of intimacy,
Deborah’s hands cover her face, “I was so mean to him, and he just wanted me more.”
She’s laying it on thick now. Pushing it a little more. She likes it when Ava gets like this. She is trying so hard to be supportive when she’s simmering just under the surface.
“Well, I get that,” it was supposed to be under her breath. Still, Deborah hears it because the two of them don’t really understand the concept of personal space anymore, or maybe because they never really got it in the first place.
The bottle and a half of wine is making her more open. They always flirt. Their banter, their picking at each other, is just an elaborate part of their foreplay. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re hot when you’re being mean,” it’s bold and direct. Something they usually aren’t with each other. So much of their relationship has been influenced by half-truths and things that have been left unsaid.
Deborah looks her up and down. She’d seen the way Ava acted when she was told to get on her knees, and that was in public. She can’t help but wonder if she’d be that receptive once Deborah gets her in her bed.
“That’s what does it for you?” She hopes to have her own data about what gets Ava going in the bedroom.
“Lots of things do it for me. Just not, you know, Republican pee,” Ava says, refilling her glass. Maybe more wine isn’t the best thing to do right now.
Deborah has to ask, “You draw the line at Republican pee? Does the political beliefs of the pee affect you?”
Ava laughs, and Deborah loves making her laugh. Getting an audience on her side is fun, and she loves it, but drawing a laugh out of Ava might just be her favorite thing. “I told her I would let a socialist pee on me before I left the room. If we see her on the course tomorrow, can you just hit me in the head with one of your clubs so I don’t have to see her?”
Ava pushes her stool back, standing up and downing the rest of her wine, “I think I’m going make use of that vibrator you told me to get.”
Deborah’s mind flashes to what Ava must look like when she’s fucking herself. Naked when her legs spread, wet and ready. She can feel herself get slick at just the thought of that.
“Wait,” Deborah says, “Can you come back to my room with me?”
“If you make me rerun those flashcards, then you owe me overtime,” it’s late. It’s almost midnight, and the night has been eventful.
Deborah stands, too, grabbing her half-drunk bottle of wine and standing very close to Ava. Cupping her jaw. She can see Ava swallow as she gazes up at her, “I don’t need you to work.”
Ava’s standing by the edge of the bed, looking up at Deborah with a mixture of arousal and bemusement. She’s not exactly sure what’s going on right now, but she’s down for whatever it is.
“Deborah, I don’t really know what’s going on right now,” Ava says. Deborah has her back to her, and she’s trying so hard to not get her hopes up too high. But she’s very much hoping at this point that Deborah’s brought her here so they can finally fuck.
Deborah moves over to her, dipping her head down. Their lips are so close but not touching yet. Ava’s so fucking desperate to be kissed. So ready to be touched. Deborah rubs their noses together and then pulls away. Ava groans. There’s seriously only so much sexual frustration she can take in one day. “I think you know.”
If she’s going to be a tease, then Ava can be teased right back. Her hands go to Deborah’s waist. She’s been desperate to get her hands on her ass for forever now. And then, finally, she’s being kissed. Pushed backward until the back of her knees hits the mattress, and she’s forced to sit down, pulling away from her.
“Trust me, I’m not complaining, but why now?” there are so many moments that have felt like they were almost going to cross that boundary, but they never did. Something always stopped them. Ava just doesn’t really understand why tonight is the night,
Deborah unzips her top showing off her fantastic tits, and Ava’s mouth goes dry. Pulling her hair to make Ava look at her, “You told me I should be shameless about what I want.”
“Holy shit,” Ava says, and then she’s being kissed, and Deborah is straddling her. Her hands are on Deborah’s ass, and it’s like a sensory overload in the best way. She’s being consumed by everything, Deborah.
Her hair is being tugged again, and her head is being forced back up. She moans; of course, Deborah would immediately find out that she likes her hair being pulled.
“You don’t want to piss on me, right?” Ava has to ask. She can only take one domineering blonde with a piss kink tonight.
“No,” Deborah’s hand goes to Ava’s throat. Holding, but not putting any real pressure on it. “You were a naughty girl today.”
This has to be a dream. Deborah’s featured in plenty of Ava’s sex dreams. This cannot really be happening to her right now.
Ava moans, and then she buries her face into Deborah’s tits, licking the crease between them. She almost doesn’t want to take off her bra because they look so hot, but her desire to get her mouth on them wins out the war in her mind. They slide Deborah’s shirt all the way off.
“Can I take this off?” Ava’s hands are on the clasp of Deborah’s bra.
“I don’t know if you deserve that yet,” she says. She likes this little game they’re playing. It’s fun having someone who’s so receptive to her and what she’s being told to do.
“Please, Deb. Please,” Deborah’s barely touched her, and this feels like the most erotic thing that’s ever happened to her. They don’t even have to fuck, and this would be enough to fuel all of her fantasies for the rest of her life.
Deborah tugs at her hair again. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
Ava nods her head, so fucking eager. God, she’s wanted this for her so long. “I’ll be so fucking good. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
Standing up from the bed, “I know you’ve thought about this. Thought about exactly what you’d do to me if I ever let you in my bed. What did you think about?”
“I thought about you all the time,” when Ava says all the time, she means all the fucking time. “I’ve fucked myself with my vibrator dreaming about getting my mouth on your tits.”
Deborah’s stroking through her hair again. “What else would you use that mouth for?”
“I want to bury my head in your cunt and fuck you with my tongue until you come all over my face,” Ava says immediately. Her mouth waters just at the thought.
Deborah steps back. “You like getting on your knees, don’t you?”
Ava gets on her knees so fast that Deborah’s afraid she might have broken something. She’s never done this before. She had been more than content to let the men she’d slept with take the reigns, but now she could understand the appeal. There’s something very appealing about going after exactly what she wants. Ava was kneeling, gazing up at her, waiting to be told what to do next. Her pupils are so dark, and her face and neck are flushed. It turns Deborah on to know Ava is getting just as much out of this as she is.
Ava nuzzles her face into the crease of her hip. She can almost feel her on her cunt through the layers.
“Deborah?” Ava asks, “Can I please fuck you with my tongue?”
Things move rather quickly after that. They work together to strip Deborah of the rest of her clothes, and then Ava’s mouth is on her. Running her tongue through her folds. Making circles with her tongue. The entire time she’s got her eyes up, eye contact makes it so hotter. Deborah tugged on her hair again, and Ava moaned.
Ava’s hands are on Deborah’s ass, keeping her close as she enters her with her tongue, feeling as Deborah contracts around her.
A sharp tug to her hair and Ava’s head is pulled back with a whine. Her nose, lips, and chin are shiny. “Why don’t you show me what those fingers of yours can do?”
Ava’s ready to dive right back in, but her hair is tugged again. “Deborah.”
“On the bed,” Deborah says. While the visual itself was very hot, her ankle couldn’t take anymore at the moment.
Ava ends up with her mouth back on her cunt, now stripped down to her underwear. Her mouth sealed over Deborah’s cunt, fucking her with two fingers.
“You’re so good, baby. So fucking good,” Deborah says right before she cums; her orgasm is not subtle or quiet. Her things contract around Ava’s head.
Ava fucks her through it. Deborah comes hard, and when she’s finally done, Ava’s on her instantly.
Kissing her, letting her taste herself in Ava’s mouth. She can feel how wet she is through her underwear. Her hips moved, trying to find something to find something to grind down onto.
“D, I know you’re doing this whole super hot top thing at the moment, but I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me soon,” her hips never stop moving as she talks.
She touches Ava through her panties, “You need to cum?”
Ava nods her head, bucking her hips into Deborah’s hand, “So fucking bad, D.”
Deborah takes her hand away, “I don’t think you really want it.”
She can’t help but get one last tease in. Liking the wild look in Ava’s eyes and how she moans like she is not getting the stimulation she needs is almost painful for her.
What comes out of Ava’s mouth is barely legible as she begs, “Deborah, please. I need you to fuck me. Please fuck me.”
Deborah touches the waistband of Ava’s underwear, lightly snapping the band, “Take these off.”
She’d been slightly worried about how she would react once she actually got a look at Ava’s pussy. Ava’s so wet, she’s practically dripping. Swollen and red, desperately wanting to be touched. It’s beautiful. Everything about Ava is gorgeous at this moment. Her legs spread over her, supporting herself on her knees. Nipples so fucking hard, she looks fucking wrecked. Though Deborah is sure, she probably doesn’t look much better at the moment.
Deborah touches her again. Being careful with her nails. She doesn’t want to hurt her new favorite part of Ava. A finger practically slips inside of her; she’s so slick.
“Do you think you can cum just by fucking yourself on my fingers?” Deborah asks, fucking her so achingly slow.
Words aren’t coming easy to Ava at the moment, “I think I could cum just by you breathing on me.”
“Go ahead, show me,” Deborah says. “Show me what a good girl you are.”
Ava really doesn’t need much in the way of encouragment. Grinding her hips down. Rubbing her clit against Deborah’s palm. Chasing an orgasm that she knows isn’t very far away, “Can you talk to me?”
“You’re so fucking pretty like this. Being such a good girl for me. Do my fingers feel good inside of you?” Deborah asks. She’s not totally sure where all of this is coming from, but it seems to be working.
Watching Ava orgasm is an almost religious experience. She shakes, and she shudders. Contracting on Deborah’s fingers as she screams so loud, everyone on the floor of the hotel is going to know that she’s getting fucked.
They spend the rest of the night fucking in different positions, in different places. Ava is allowed up for air long enough to grab the previously mentioned vibrator so she can show Deborah exactly how she fucks herself when she thinks about her.
An attempt at a shower turns into Ava getting on her knees on the shower floor so she can taste her again because she just can’t seem to get enough of her. It’s like they’re attempting to get out two years of sexual frustration in a night.
Deborah wakes up the following day sore in places she didn’t even know she could be sore in. They’ve already missed their tee time. But at this point, who really gives a fuck? Finding out Ava’s feelings towards morning sex seems like a much better idea.
Ava’s asleep next to her on her stomach, blanket low on her hips, exposing her bare back to Deborah.
“Ava, honey,” Deborah says, a far cry from how she usually wakes her up. Fingers trail up and down Ava’s spine.
“Hey,” Ava says, turning her head, “Oh shit, are we late?”
“I don’t give a fuck about golf right now,” Deborah’s basically forgotten about the tournament. She no longer cares.
“You don’t?” her voice is still thick with sleep.
Deborah’s thumb and forefinger tweak Ava’s nipples, “No, there’s something I’d rather do.”
“Again? You’re insatiable, or maybe I’m just that good,” for once, Ava’s earned her cockiness.
“Your gargantuan hands are good for one thing,” she says. She’s definitely realized a new appreciation for Ava’s hands.
Ava’s eyes close again. She really is a sight right now. Her pale skin is covered in hickeys, “I’m going to let you have that one because I’m too fucked out to argue.”
Ava starts to laugh out of nowhere.
“What’s so funny?” Deborah asks, removing her hand from Ava’s breast.
“When DJ told me she was pregnant, I told her I was excited to be an uncle. Now, I’m going to be a grandpa,” she’s so delighted by this. Maybe all the orgasms have made her delirious.
“You’re already claiming the other grandparent spot?” poor kid is never going to have a normal family.
Ava props herself up with one arm. “You’re not getting rid of me again,”
“You will not quit your job for me,” that’s a complete non-negotiable. Her career is a sinking ship. She will not be taking Ava down with her.
“No, I won’t, but there are weekends, and you do have a very nice house in LA that’s empty most of the time. We’ll make it work. I’ll need to be an active presence in my grandchild’s life,” she’s obviously put a lot of thought into this. Has been thinking about it.
“27 years old and already a grandparent,” Deborah says, mirroring Ava’s position in the bed. Her arm goes around her waist.
Ava will be anything she needs to be if it means she gets to be with Deborah. “Well, you know everyone used to tell me I was such an old soul,”
“I always thought that was a nice way of saying your kids weird,” or at least that’s how she always used it.
“Yeah, well, I’ll take it both ways.” It was one of the more positive descriptions she was given as a kid, so she took it.
“Honey?” Deborah asks, pushing Ava’s hair behind her ear so she can see more of her beautiful face.
Ava lights up at the pet name, “Yes, Derba?”
“Absolutely not. I give you D. That’s far enough,” Deborah’s face instantly scrunched at the nickname.
Ava pouts at her, “Go back to being nice to me.”
“We will make it work. Why don’t you have Ruby send your stuff to my LA mansion?” it’s just a tiny bit evil.
Ava can manage the reaction. She still feels slightly guilty about the way things went with Ruby: “She’ll hate that.”
Deborah smiles that evil little smile she gets, “I know.”
Ava kisses her. Rolling on top of Deborah, gearing up for another round.
They’ll figure it out because they have to.