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If you had told yourself that you would be in this position even a month ago, you wouldn’t have believed it. It was a pipe dream, something you had chalked up to wishful thinking at best.
It was never going to happen.
Yet, here you are. Fingertips pressing desperately into your shoulder, little crescents sure to appear through the layer of clothing nails still bit through. It was eerily quiet, save the maddening tap, tap, tap from a leaky sink. That, and the littlest whimpers that couldn’t help but escape from Rosé’s lips.
Where were you supposed to be right now? Probably in History class, but you there was no way you could know for sure, not when the only thing occupying your mind was Rosé. Choking on moans, trying to stay quiet. Even as she rolled her hips languidly against your thigh, your skirt hitched up around your waist.
Rosé was your best friend. And right now, your best friend needed to come on your thigh.
It was all still relatively new, something that had happened by accident one early morning. A brush of the hand, cuddling closer, and then your leg had slipped between her thighs and she was grinding down on you before she could help herself. There was a single pause the span of a heartbeat where you gazed at sheepish eyes and rosy blushed cheeks, and then you had kissed her.
So maybe she was more than your best friend. That hadn’t come up yet. It hadn’t come up because there hadn’t been a chance to. When the briefest of eye contact sent a shiver down your spine. When the two of you were close enough that you could begin to feel yourself ache. And then it was any opportunity you could take to hear her whine your name again.
“Good girl,” you murmured against her collarbone, having undone the top few buttons of her Oxford shirt. Just below your chin was the crest of one of her breasts, trimmed in black lace. But there wasn’t enough time for that. Too big risk of getting caught and it simply wouldn’t do to explain why you had another classmate topless on your lap in the girl’s rest room. It was already pushing it that you were skipping class, choosing to double your efforts of rocking the redhead harder against your flexed thigh instead of pushing her off and fixing her skirt.
The pet name wasn’t missed, Rosé jerking against your body with a gasp caught in her throat. She was getting close, you could tell. Had seen it plenty of times over the last few weeks. And knew exactly how to cater to her desires. Even if she wasn’t in her designated class either, she was the epitome of a good girl. A word of praise would take her a long way.
Plush lips tickled the shell of your ear as she rested heavier against you, pushing harder down on your leg. God, she was so wet, you could feel it through the layers. Yeah, that’s right. The encounter so sudden, so needy, that Rosé had only pushed you into a bathroom stall before she was sliding onto your lap. There was still her panties and both sets of nylons between you. And your thigh was damp.
You trailed a hand up her back, gripping the collar of her shirt as you kissed haughtily at that perfect spot under the corner of her jaw. Moans fell only so far, secretively pushed against your ear as Rosé grew hotter. When you bit her neck, she whimpered, a little too loud. You loved crossing the line like that, feeling her halt a moment, like she was trying to gain some composure. It never lasted, and it was such a joy to break her.
The hand on Rosé’s waist insisted she start grinding again. It started slow with long rolls of her hips, which at the end of each garnered another hot breath against your neck. “Faster,” you commanded lightly, and she obeyed. Fuck, the feeling of her centre riding your thigh was going to get you off without even so much a touch where you needed it most. It was all so taboo, and you fucking loved it.
She didn’t stop, fucking herself faster and faster, getting closer to the edge. Oh, you were definitely going to come — watching Rosé orgasm was an experience in and of itself. The way she threw herself into the bliss without abandon, so desperate she didn’t care anymore about remaining prim and proper and polite. The better the orgasm, the less she played to the rules. You couldn’t help yourself, and reached the hand on the collar of her shirt into her hair. Taking a fistful and tugging her head back.
A moan echoed lewdly in the restroom, and this time, Rosé didn’t stop. You were pushing her down harder on your thigh with the hand on her hip while you made sure that any noise that bubbled up her throat wouldn’t be choked back.
“You can do it, baby,” you cooed, like she needed your permission, licking up her neck and kissing her jaw. “You can come for me like the good girl you are.”
And she was. Rosé was coming at the same moment someone entered the restroom. You heard the door swinging open a second before Rosé’s legs started quivering on your lap, and your hand in her hair slipped around and over her mouth. The action was all she needed to know what was happening. You hugged against her chest where she was holding her breath, her poor body shaking in ecstasy.
Somehow, it was the fucking sexiest thing you could have ever imagined. It was enough that you felt yourself clenching your own legs together, a painful throbbing in your panties.
The oblivious girl stood at the sinks for a few second before you heard the faucet starting, and the girl washing her hands. Your breaths were measured through your nose, noiselessly kissing the sweaty skin at Rosé’s shoulder. It was then you noticed fingernails had been digging into your back while she came, and when she slowly snaked her arms around you, sinking onto your chest for support, you were smirking at was going to be the badges of your triumph embedded in your shoulder blades.
The girl finally exited the restroom, none the wiser. You smoothed down Rosé’s skirt so it wouldn’t look so much like she had just rode your leg until she fucking came, and slowly, Rosé sat up. A baited breath left as a reluctant moan while she stood, obviously sore in the best kind of way.
“That was close,” and Rosé’s voice was trembling, but she was smiling.
“That was hot,” you retorted, standing. Your skirt fluttered over your legs, and you were thankful to see that it was long enough to cover the damp portion of your nylons.
“Maybe next time I’ll wait until we go back to your house before I jump your bones like that,” Rosé whispered. You smirked as she glanced at your eyes, unsure of what she had said was fitting. A single step and you were wrapping her up in your arms, brushing a wayward fiery red lock back into place, framing her beautiful face. Anything else she had to say seemed like it was disappearing into the recesses of her mind, gazing at you for a few moments before leaning in to kiss you.
God, you could grow to fall in love with kissing her like this.