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It’s packed as hell in the club. Bodies upon bodies, the scent of sweat and alcohol lingering in each inhale Eddie takes. She feels the heat on her skin, humid air making her clothes stick to her body, and tries not to feel bothered by the sensation. Eddie’s on a mission today — she wants to fuck. She wants to find soft, pliant flesh to kiss, to tear into with her teeth. She wants to look into someone’s eyes from above, hands carding through their hair. She wants a tongue in her mouth, running over her teeth, drinking in her saliva; she wants a tongue inside her, making her crazy with pleasure. Eddie wants her fingers pruned from wetness, fucking languidly into someone’s pussy; wants to feel the hair under her fingertips, the squeeze around her knuckles.
She wants, and wants, and wants, but nothing particular catches her eye. She looks around, nameless faces hazy in the frenzy of the dance, music pulsing loudly through her veins, matching her heartbeat, but no one does it for her. Not the pretty brunette who makes eyes at her, tall and thick, tits spilling out from the low cut of her dress; Eddie senses her stare on her, but she doesn’t even consider it — the hair is wrong. Eddie tries imagining running her hand through the dark waves and feels nothing. She bumps into someone on her way to the bar — another brunette with short hair, a muscled frame, and pierced lips — who smiles at her; Eddie decides the stranger doesn’t deserve what she has to offer. She apologizes and continues her trek.
Another face, another touch, another lingering squeeze on the arm — Eddie feels like she’s some newly discovered species, curious hands probing and gripping her, trying to discover what lies inside. She smiles at some of them, ignores the rest, and moves her feet faster; she can’t do this sober. Eddie needs something in her, anything, really — salt, tequila, lemon; Redbull and vodka, a fruity cocktail — something that could help her body relax. She leans against the bar counter, stretching her back, and looks at the menu above the bartender's head. It’s unreadable scribbles written in colorful chalk; she tries to decipher them, eyes squinting under the strobe light, but fails. Eddie feels frustration seep into her skin through the pores, trying to look up again, find the familiar curve of a letter, something resembling a word, at least, but fails short.
“Can’t read anything on that board, huh?” She hears someone say teasingly.
Eddie turns around to find the source of the voice. She doesn’t straighten her posture when moving her head, so her eyes don’t meet another's eyes; they meet a chest. A chest with the most beautiful pair of tits attached to it. Eddie gulps, trying to regain composure, because it’s rude to stare at someone’s breasts, at least without looking at their face first, but it’s really hard. It’s just– they’re perfect, and Eddie doesn’t throw that word around lightly. Full, heavy tits sitting prettily in a lacy cream bra that’s peeking cheekily out from her tight shirt. There are some bits of glitter between them, and Eddie salivates with the need to dive in there, pick every tiny speckle with her tongue. Her mind flashes with the images of ancient sculptures and medieval paintings, lush women laid out on narrow beds, a sliver of silky-looking cloth covering their legs tauntingly, leaving everything else breathtakingly nude.
Her gaze drips south, to a soft stomach with a curvy waist, thick, thick mile-long legs covered with fishnet stockings. Is it a size small, Eddie thinks, because the strings cut into the flesh at the top of her thighs, where it’s the fattest, tiny checkered chunks of skin, or are her thighs just huge?
The rundown leaves Eddie breathless, making her face heat up with embarrassment at not being able to control her reaction. Her mouth feels dry, as if she hadn’t had a drink in days, and she clears her throat, finally looking up, and– oh. Every noise around her perishes, every voice falls quiet, even the strobe lights stop flashing, because Eddie– she finally looks into the stranger’s eyes. Smiling, beautiful, big eyes adorned with the fluffiest lashes and the cutest birthmark Eddie has ever seen. And they’re blue, so blue, Eddie feels like she’s drowning in the ocean of them.
She takes in the rest of the woman’s face, and it is just as utterly devastating. Her strong nose, her full, round cheeks, bunching up from the force of her grin, her pink, pouting lips. Eddie wants to kiss the pout off of them, to bite them, so it’s deep red, spit shining on them, dripping from the corner of her mouth. Eddie wants to bury her hand in the woman’s honey curls, press her lips into the long line of her throat, bite teasingly. She wants to grab her thighs, wrap them around her head, and lose herself between her legs. Eddie wants to hear her moan, cry out her name, wet and pleading, begging for a release.
Eddie wants, and wants, and wants, and instead she just says:
“Yeah. Been trying to order something for an hour.”
“I feel you,” the stranger replies. “The first time I tried ordering something here, I almost summoned a demon,” she chuckles. “Unreadable, I’m telling you.”
“Do you know how to decode that shit?”
“I do.”
“So?” Eddie asks, quirking an eyebrow.
“What’s in it for me?” The woman leans on her arm, tilting towards Eddie. The flash of lace taunts Eddie with its flowery pattern.
“Hm,” Eddie considers, “Whatever you can order for me, you can order for yourself, too. How’s that?”
“Gonna buy me a drink?” She smiles.
“Yes,” Eddie finds herself moving closer towards the woman, the Moon orbiting the Earth. “Only if you tell me your name first,” she whispers into her ear.
Eddie’s lips graze the curve of the shell, and she wants to whoop childishly at the reaction the caress elicits from the woman. She shivers, hundreds of goosebumps marching along her strong-looking arms.
“Buck.”
“Interesting name,” Eddie muses.
“It’s a nickname.”
“So what’s your real name?”
“Gotta buy me another drink for that secret.”
Eddie chuckles. Talking to her feels like breathing, eating, drinking water — easy and natural. “Your mommy didn’t teach you not to get drunk with a stranger?”
Buck’s hand, which was sprawled across the bar counter, moves; the index and middle fingers step-step-stepping forward until they stop near Eddie’s wrist. She brings her palm to Eddie’s arm, covering the tattoo on Eddie’s skin with it, thumbs circling the twirl of the letters.
“We don’t have to be,” she says coyishly, looking at Eddie from under her lashes, “Just tell me what to call you.”
Buck’s touch on Eddie’s arm feels like everything she’s ever dreamed of. Desire, heat, lust, love, and care wreak havoc inside her. Most of all, it feels like a permission. Eddie brings her hand down slowly and places it on Buck’s thigh. Her thumb slips under the hem of the skirt, gently massaging the square of plump skin. She snakes her fingers under the strings of her stockings, pressing into the muscle. God, her legs must be so strong.
“Yeah?” Eddie smirks. At Buck’s soft nod, she continues, “Eddie.”
Buck’s thigh presses into the hold of Eddie’s hand.
“Buy me a drink, Eddie.” Her middle finger travels on the expanse of skin on Eddie’s inner arm, down the vein, massaging the pulse point.
“It’s your choice, Buck.”
Buck grins and leans on the bar counter. Eddie leans back, allowing herself to admire the gentle slope of her back, eyes running down the arch of her waist to the shapely ass hidden under the skirt. She can’t wait to get under it.
“I know it’s kinda boring, but I hope you like it! It’s so good here!” Buck shouts excitedly over the loudness of the music.
Eddie looks at her in confusion.
“What did you order? I didn’t hear,” she replies.
Buck smiles again and tilts her head, hand landing on Eddie’s wrist under her skirt. Shit, it’s still there. Eddie decides it should stay there indefinitely.
“Something distracted you?” She asks cheekily.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, squeezing her thigh, “some pretty thing.”
Buck flushes so brightly, Eddie would've thought it was the strobe light shining down on her. When the color doesn’t change, pink hues adorning the high of her cheeks steadily, Eddie leans in and whispers, “Aren’t you?”
Buck blushes harder, rosy lips opening to say something, but the moment is interrupted by the bartender slamming down the cocktails in front of them. It’s yellow and red, with little umbrellas stuck into a piece of orange, and Eddie thinks it might be–
“Tequila Sunrise,” the bartender says.
“Put it on her tab,” Buck jabs a thumb in Eddie’s direction. The bartender shrugs and leaves. She grabs her cocktail, lips wrapping around the straw, and fuck does Eddie wish for it to be her fingers instead. She glances at Buck’s mouth one last time and takes her drink, sipping on it.
“It’s good, right?” Buck asks, impatient and eager, and Eddie shivers.
“Yeah, it’s good. You chose well, Buck.”
Buck blushes again — did she even stop? — and smiles, lifting the glass.
“To not being strangers?”
“To not being strangers.”
Buck’s really touchy when she’s drunk, Eddie realizes. A hand on a bicep when she’s laughing, a squeeze around the wrist when she’s talking excitedly about something, a shuffle forward, a kiss on the cheek when the alcohol makes her feel soft and fluffy inside, a cute giggle caught on her lips. Eddie’s not that drunk, just a little tipsy, that pleasant hum in your body that makes you feel relaxed and kind of floaty, so she just relishes Buck’s attention.
She’s ranting about spiders, their variations and lethality, when she suddenly exclaims, interrupting herself:
“Wolf spiders, Eddie! Let’s dance!”
Buck grabs her by the arm and leads her to the dancefloor. It’s too hot for Eddie’s liking, but Buck grinding against her makes her feel better about it. The music is not something Eddie’s ever heard, but it’s nice, heavy bass and drums reverberating around the club, thumping through their bodies. Their movements are synchronized — Eddie hugs her from behind and puts her hands on Buck’s hips, squeezing them in rhythm with the song; Buck’s curls are all up in Eddie’s face, the smell of clean sweat and jasmine shampoo burying itself in her nose.
Buck’s hands fly around aimlessly for some time, jumping with the music until Eddie feels the heavy land of them on her own. She intertwines their fingers on her hips, squeezing them tightly; Eddie fights back a moan and kisses her neck, right under the hairline, one, two, three times, until she hears Buck let out a soft whimper. Her hands leave the haven of Buck’s hips, moving to her waist, caressing it with her thumbs; Buck’s hands are still enveloped around Eddie’s. She presses into Buck, solid and relentless, and when Buck arches her back, Eddie’s hands fly up, cupping her tits. Her nipples are so hard, Eddie can feel the shape of them through her flimsy bra.
“Eddie,” Buck mewls.
Eddie feels like she’s in a flow state, focus pinpointed, attuned to Buck — every breath, every sound, every movement is dissected under Eddie’s hands, waiting for the next one. Her palms circle Buck’s wrists and turn her around. She’s flushed, face sweaty with exertion, and her curls are plastered to her forehead. Her lips are deep pink, the same shade as her birthmark, and her eyes, fuck her eyes — brighter than before, dazed, a silvery sheen veiling them, as if she’s in a trance, and Eddie can’t look away. She grabs her face, squishing her cheeks, and connects their lips.
Buck moans into the kiss, hands flying to Eddie’s ass, bringing them closer. She slides them up Eddie’s back, to her shoulder blades, to her neck; down her arms to the palms on her own face. She squeezes them faintly and pulls back. She opens her mouth to moan, to say something, to plead, but Eddie doesn’t care; she yanks Buck towards herself, connects their lips again, tongue sliding gently into the warm mouth, caressing Buck’s own, and her spine melts when she hears Buck whimper again.
They don’t even dance anymore, just swaying in rhythm with the music, and Eddie can’t help but want more. She moves them, lips still locked in on each other, blind, into some dark, half-secluded corner, and presses Buck into the wall. Her hand slides down Buck’s face to her throat, not choking, just squeezing gently, if only for a second, and to her waist. She grabs it tightly and pulls away.
“Why did you stop?” Buck whines. Her hands fly to Eddie’s shoulders, grasping them firmly, and she buries them in Eddie’s hair. She tugs on it, thick biceps enveloping Eddie’s face completely, and kisses her again.
Eddie feels like she’s in heaven; the heavy weight of Buck’s arms around her shoulders, her strong thigh wrapped around Eddie’s, grinding steadily, moaning quietly each time Eddie squeezes a muscle just right. She’s thirsty with her movements, and Eddie’s leg is– fuck, it’s wet, the sturdy cloth of her pants soaked through, and it’s so obscene Eddie moans loudly. She grabs Buck’s thigh, wrapped around her own, and snakes her way under her skirt, grabbing her ass.
“Wanna rip this shit off of you,” she groans into Buck’s mouth, tugging at the fishnets. She grabs Buck’s arm around her neck and pulls it down, making her hand press into the wet patch on her pants. “You feel that?”
“Yes, yes, Eddie,” she sobs, squeezing the thigh.
“What is it, baby, huh? Tell me.”
“It’s– it’s me.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Eddie says, licking kisses into her neck. “Such an eager pussy, yeah?”
“Yeah, fuck, Eddie, please–” Buck pleads, wetness gathering around the corners of her eyes.
“Let’s slow down, hm? Don’t want you to end this too soon,” Eddie’s hands are under Buck’s skirt again, thumbs gently massaging the swell of her ass; when the rest of her fingers nestle themselves under her cheeks, she feels wetness dripping down Buck’s legs, dampening the fishnets. She has no panties on, God. Eddie plays with her slick, massaging it into Buck’s flesh, nails scraping the skin.
Eddie doesn’t care about the people around them; she can’t think about anything but Buck’s soft, plush body against hers, the citrusy taste of her spit, the velvety touch of her tongue. She’s lost in Buck, completely and forever — she doesn’t have it in her to fight the black hole of her pull.
Her thigh between Buck’s legs presses her into the wall, pinning Buck in place. She stops kissing her and pecks her on the cheeks.
“Do you want me to show you how I like to be kissed?” Eddie asks, nosing down the column of her throat. She circles her hands to the front of Buck’s thighs, squeezing tightly at her hips. Eddie can feel the softness of Buck’s tummy pushing against the L of her palms.
“I do, please, Eddie, I do,” she nods fervently, trying to grind down again. She can’t — Eddie’s hold is too strong. Buck places her hands on Eddie’s biceps, sliding them up and burying her fingers under the hem of Eddie’s shirtsleeves.
“Then learn, baby,” Eddie says, before diving in.
She kisses Buck, mouths sliding against each other, slow and lazy. It’s easy, with the way spit covers their lips, making the glide feel heavenly wet. Eddie squeezes her hands again, tugging on the fishnets under Buck’s skirt, and feels a string of it snap, freeing her thumb. Buck whimpers, lips opening, and Eddie uses the opportunity to suck on the tip of her tongue lightly before slipping it into her welcoming mouth. The softness of Buck’s tongue is enticing, addicting, and Eddie could spend hours, no, days just feeling it against her own; their faces are close, too close, and Eddie can taste the tears on Buck’s face mixing with the sweat on Eddie’s.
Buck tries to grind down again, eager, impatient, and it makes Eddie smile against her lips. She palms her ass, fingertips dipping between them, grazing her hole, gathering the slick and pushing it in, ever so faintly.
The grip on Eddie’s biceps goes vice-tight at the feel of Eddie’s fingers against Buck’s hole, nails driving into the skin sharply, and she pulls away. Buck chases her mouth, eyes still closed, and Eddie can hear a whine form in the downward tilt of her lips.
Eddie lifts one hand from under Buck’s skirt and brings it to her face. Her fingertips are shiny from the wetness, red-orange-green under the strobe light, and Eddie wants to put them in her mouth, just to see how Buck tastes; she does just that, circling her lips around her knuckles. When Buck opens her eyes and sees Eddie, her knees buckle; Eddie’s thigh is the only thing holding her upright.
“Mmm,” Eddie hums, pulling the fingers out with a wet pop. “Pretty face, sweet pussy — what am I gonna do with you?”
Buck’s face flushes deeper under Eddie’s praise; her lips part with a shaky exhale.
“Whatever you want, Eddie,” Buck pleads. She takes Eddie’s hand and puts it on her face, nuzzling into the palm. “You can fuck me, eat me, use me, fuck my face, anything, please.”
She looks like sin reincarnated; gluttony in the sneaky, fast grinds against Eddie’s thigh, lust in the obscene look in her eyes — heavy, scandalous, pupils dilated so much Eddie can barely see the blue of them; greed in the way she tucks her face into Eddie’s hand, tongue sliding out to lick it, lips closing around the thumb and sucking it keenly.
“So much to choose from,” Eddie says, pressing down on Buck’s tongue, sliding it back and forth. The hand under the skirt moves to the front, thumb gently teasing the clit hidden under the stockings, barely touching it. “I want to fuck you,” she says, pressing in harder, “but I want to eat you, too,” she moves her hand again, palm cupping her wet cunt entirely; she presses the heel of it into Buck’s clit. “What should I do?”
Buck doesn’t answer — just grinds mindlessly into Eddie’s hand, squeezing Eddie’s shoulders; her head is thrown back, bumping steadily against the wall behind her. Eddie pulls the thumb out of her mouth and spreads the spit across her bottom lip, tugging it down; she rubs it against her teeth, her gums, then hooks it into the corner of her mouth, stretching it wide.
“I asked you a question, baby.”
Buck moans loudly, too loud even for the cacophony of voices and music surrounding them, and moves her head to the side to suck the thumb in again. She frees Eddie’s shoulders and brings both of her hands to Eddie’s wrist, pulling it away. Buck moves the hand under her skirt and places it on her ass, squeezing the flesh.
“I want you to eat me out till I come all over your face,” she whispers in Eddie’s ear. “Then I want you to fuck me till I come again,” she says, kissing Eddie’s cheek. “Then I want you to take me home, so I can take care of you,” she murmurs against Eddie’s lips. “Will you let me?”
Eddie nods frenzily before she can even utter a single yes.
“Fuck, fuck, yeah, baby, whatever you want, anything,” she says, kissing Buck on the lips. “Probably not here, though,” she chuckles.
“Yeah,” Buck giggles into Eddie’s mouth, “bathroom.”
Eddie giggles too, dragging her leg away from between Buck’s thighs and standing straight. She grabs Buck’s wrist and pulls her towards the bathroom; Eddie doesn’t exactly run, but she’s too damn close to it — Buck is irresistible like that.
They finally reach it after a long minute of bumping into drunk, swaying bodies and muttering sorrys left and right; not that they care. When they close the door behind them, a peaceful quietness surrounds them, covering them like a blanket. They can hear the heavy thump of the bass jumping around the walls, and the noise is calming to their overwhelmed senses.
There are no people inside, despite how packed the club is — people are busy drinking and kissing the night away. Lucky, Eddie thinks, as she pulls Buck towards the farthest stall, shoving them in, and locks the door behind them.
She presses Buck against the door and kisses her feverishly, tongues meeting each other sloppily; Eddie can see droplets of spit staining Buck’s flimsy shirt. She moans at the sight and leans away reluctantly, searching Buck’s gaze. Eddie’s hands under her skirt squeeze firmly, and she asks:
“What was it? Eat you out till you come all over my face?”
Buck bites back a moan, teeth worrying her bottom lip, and nods.
“Yes, please, Eddie,” she mewls.
Eddie feels something swell in her chest. She leans down and kisses the soft slope of Buck’s breasts.
“So polite for me, baby, good girl,” she says, smirking when Buck shivers at the words. “Can I play with your tits first?”
Buck can’t fight the moan that slips out of her mouth this time; she buries her hands in Eddie’s hair, pushing her face between the lacy strips of her bra. Eddie groans loudly, mouth opening at the speed of light, and sucks. She bites the skin between her breasts, worrying it between her teeth, then licks the mark apologetically when Buck whines at the sensation. Under the bathroom light, she can see how gorgeous Buck’s chest is — fair skin, unmarred, if not for Eddie’s bitemark, soft, almost invisible peach fuzz adorning it; there are a myriad of freckles peppered lightly under her collarbones, like constellations, like caramel kisses, and Eddie wants to cry with how beautiful Buck is.
She leans down again, kissing impatiently, lips closing around a freckle, and moves her hand under Buck’s shirt to tug at her lacy bra. It’s a slow revelation — down, down, down, until the pink areolas wink at her, taunting with their rosiness; down, down, down, until the soft fabric teases the sensitive nipples; they jump slightly when Eddie finally frees them from the confines of Buck’s bra.
Eddie feels ravenousness cry out inside her; it gnaws at her ribs like never before; it’s not a want, to get her mouth on Buck’s tits, to lick and suck on her nipples, it’s a need — devastating, crushing, squeezing her insides. She exhales shakily and rubs the nub with her thumb. Her hand squeezes the breast gently, and her mouth moves on autopilot; she can’t control it. Eddie circles her mouth around the other nipple, sucking it firmly; her tongue lavishes the nub, playing with it teasingly, and she pulls away with a wet, sucking sound. Buck arches her back, pushing her tits into Eddie’s face again, and Eddie feels her knees weaken; she could spend her entire life between them, tongue curled up around her nipples, kitten licks on her skin.
She pulls away again, fighting against Buck’s hold in her hair, and moves her mouth to the other tit. She pauses, mouth halfway to the nipple, because Buck tilting her chest up made the light over their heads fall just right for Eddie to see– to see the thin, white lines running down from her chest to the slope of her breast. Almost invisible, the stretchmarks spread prettily like rivers all over the skin, the testament of Buck’s age, her fullness, the heaviness of her tits. Eddie feels a shiver run down her spine, and instead of a nipple, her tongue licks the stretchmarks, the tip diving into the shallow dip of them. She licks, and kisses, and bites, and it’s probably not the kind of stimulation Buck would want, but Eddie can’t help herself — she wants to feel every part of her under her mouth.
Apparently, Buck’s had enough, because she pulls Eddie by the hair and kisses her, almost violently, before whispering:
“I want your tongue in me, now, please, Eddie.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” Eddie nods into the kiss, and gets on her knees slowly. She looks up at Buck, leaning her head on Buck’s thigh. “You’re so pretty, Buck,” she sighs. “Bet your pussy’s even prettier. Bet it’s so fucking pink and plump, just like your tits, baby. Never seen a rack like yours, so beautiful, so gorgeous,” Eddie says, kissing Buck’s thighs. “You’re the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen.”
Eddie sees the blush on her cheeks deepen, run up to her ears, down to her neck and chest, and decides that she wants to make Buck feel like that forever. She smiles against her thigh, kissing it for the last time, and lifts it, placing it on her shoulder.
“Pull your skirt up, baby,” she urges.
Buck’s hand leaves Eddie’s hair to yank at her skirt, pressing the fabric on her stomach. Eddie nods approvingly. “Good job, babygirl.”
Buck’s hips jolt forward, trying to get to Eddie’s mouth, and she whines, embarrassed. “Get to it.”
Eddie laughs at that, nosing at the crotch of her stockings.
“Be careful with your words, sweetheart,” she says, before ripping the strings of the fishnets apart.
Eddie feels her mouth salivate at the sight before her — pink, plush cunt, slick all around it, dripping down her thighs, even dampening her asscheeks, before disappearing between them. Blonde pubic hair, soft and curly, sticky with wetness. She noses at it, drinking in the musky smell of Buck’s arousal, and her tongue darts out to lick across Buck’s pussy.
Buck moans loudly, yanking on Eddie’s hair, and arches into her mouth. Eddie licks again, drinking in Buck’s juices, clear and sweet, before she brings the hand circling the thigh on her shoulder towards Buck’s cunt. Her thumb grazes the hair gently, pushing it up, and she buries herself between Buck’s legs.
It’s a teasing game Eddie plays — instead of getting to it, like Buck has commanded, Eddie takes her time, pressing her whole face into her pussy, taking in her scent. She licks slowly, a wide stripe across it, before stopping at the clit, pressing into it. She sucks it into her mouth, teasing it with the tip of her tongue until she hears Buck whimper. Eddie unlatches from her clit and squeezes Buck’s pussy lips with her thumb and her index finger, dabbing her tongue repeatedly between the smushed flesh, sucking it into her mouth. Above her, Buck moans relentlessly, head thrown back and eyes closed tight in pleasure. Eddie hums against her cunt and licks into it again, thumbing her clit. It’s wet, so wet, so perfect, continuous gushes of slick drip-drip-dripping out of Buck, and no matter how much Eddie tries to drink it in, it just doesn’t stop, dampening her chin, dribbling from her mouth to the floor.
Eddie moves her head vigorously, up and down, left and right, pressing her face between Buck’s legs, her tongue drawing circles and figure-eights around Buck’s clit, and it’s heavenly, pure ecstasy diluted in the sweet juices of Buck. Eddie rips her stockings further, almost turning them into thigh highs, and digs her fingers into Buck’s ass, nudging her to grind more into Eddie’s face. Buck gets the hint, and her moans get louder as she rides Eddie’s tongue, spreading slick all over it; her cheeks bump against the stall door, getting louder with each thrust. Eddie’s thumb presses into her clit again, massaging it in circles, and she shoves her tongue inside Buck. It’s a quick fuck — in and out, in and out, licking against her walls several more times, until Buck cries, squeezing violently around Eddie, moaning weakly, and yanking on Eddie’s hair.
Eddie lets her ride it out, petting her thigh softly, humming quietly into her. The vibrations make Buck squeeze again, overstimulated, and Eddie hears a sob above her head. She looks up from where she’s still buried in Buck’s cunt, and watches Buck stare at her, eyes intense and wet with tears, unbelievably blue. Buck twitches against Eddie’s tongue again, just for a couple of seconds, before her shaky breathing and violent pulsating somewhat even out. Eddie hums into her again and kisses her pubic hair, nosing it, and puts her thigh down; pats it a couple of times. She stands up, hoping Buck can’t hear her knees creaking.
Buck’s chest heaves intensely, making her tits press into the edges of the lace on her bra. Eddie watches, transfixed, as it pulls on the skin, leaving thin, pink lines in its wake. She leans down again, kissing it softly, licking at her nipples, and Buck mewls, tugging Eddie away. Eddie looks at her curiously.
“Sens’tive,” she mumbles tiredly.
Eddie smiles and pulls the bra up, covering her breasts.
“Sensitive?” she asks, kissing her neck. She hears a quiet hum in reply. “What if I put some fingers in you? Are you sensitive too for that, too, baby?”
She hears Buck’s breath hitch. “No,” she replies, shaking her head, “just– just give me a minute.”
Eddie presses Buck into the stall door, getting a thigh between her legs again, and places her hands on Buck’s waist. She begins to think the space between Buck’s thighs might become her favorite place in the world. “No?” she coos, mimicking Buck’s shake with a condescending pout. “What should I do while we wait?”
Buck brings her arms around Eddie’s shoulders, circling her neck. “Kiss me?”
Eddie hums, leaning into the arm around her, kissing her bicep, biting into it. Her eyes never leave Buck’s. “Here?” She asks, kissing it again.
Buck shakes her head no.
“Here?” Eddie asks, kissing the opposite arm, licking off the sweat.
Buck pouts again.
Eddie leans down to kiss between her tits sweetly, sucking in the skin.
“Here, baby?”
“Eddie,” Buck whines, tugging on Eddie’s hair.
Eddie smiles softly and acquiesces. She kisses her way up, from the sternum to the collarbones, licking her neck, biting into it tenderly. She feels Buck’s pulse hammering between her teeth, and it reminds her of a rabbit, fidgeting scarily, twitching its neck between sharp teeth; the image is heavenly, exhilarating, and Eddie moans, biting the skin even harder. When Buck cries out a whimper, she pulls away, licking at the skin; she tongues the indentation of her teeth, sucking the mark lightly.
Eddie finally faces Buck, and they are so close she can smell the alcohol on her lips, citrusy and tangy. She licks into her mouth and noses her cheek.
“Hi,” she says dopily.
“Hi,” Buck giggles. “Your face is all wet.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“Mine,” Buck sighs, drunk and gentle, “you make me wet.”
Eddie feels her chest constrict, a spikey fist around her heart; her body thrums with the need to do something, the violent hunger she can’t name clawing into her guts. She clenches her palm around Buck’s hips.
“Yeah?” she says, pecking her lips. “You make me wet, too, baby. I feel insane,” a kiss on the cheek. “You’re so cute, so pretty, I want to eat you, Buck. Want to live between your thighs. Want to bite you, lick you, make you cum, every day for the rest of my life,” Eddie says, using the hold on Buck’s waist to grind her down on her thigh. “Wanna hear your pretty moans, wanna make you cry, want to make you beg for it. You’re driving me crazy, baby.”
Buck brings her hand down to circle it around Eddie’s wrist; she pushes it south, pressing it against the wetness under her skirt.
“Please, Eddie,” she coos, blinking rapidly.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah, good girl, baby,” Eddie says, her palm cupping Buck’s dripping cunt. She digs the heel of it into Buck’s clit, middle finger teasing her hole. “You want it, huh? Fluttering your eyelashes at me, whimpering for me, should’ve known you’re gonna be a slut for it since I first got under your skirt,” she murmurs against Buck’s lips. Eddie puts her finger in, just the tip, pushing it in and out tauntingly. Buck moans loudly, grinding down, her muscles squeezing around it, trying to suck the finger in; the staccato of her mewls dances around the bathroom. ”So wet, so ready, don’t even have your panties on. Sweet little pussy, and all mine,” Eddie bites her bottom lip, tugging it down, “Isn’t it, sweetheart?”
Buck’s hold on Eddie’s wrist, Eddie’s shoulder, tightens in a vice-strong grip.
“Yes, yes, Eddie, it’s yours, your pussy, fuck, pleasepleaseplease–” she begs, jumping up and down fervently, riding Eddie’s finger like her life depends on it. She sobs, spasming around Eddie’s knuckles.
“Needy thing, baby, one finger ain’t enough for you, hm? You want more?”
“Yes, please, please, Eddie, more–”
Eddie doesn’t let her finish, shoving the ring finger in mercilessly, and fastens her pace; the heel of her palm is a firm press against Buck’s clit. Buck cries out, long and high-pitched, moaning steadily with each thrust of Eddie's fingers inside her. Eddie licks a wide stripe against her cheek, licking off her tears.
“Be quiet, baby, or I’ll stuff your face, too,” she says, voice low with warning.
Buck moans louder. Eddie chuckles dangerously, her hand leaving Buck’s waist, and jams her fingers down Buck’s throat; her moans are muffled, now, a constant stream of begging quietened under Eddie’s hold. She moves her hands rhythmically, fast and relentless, trying to get Buck to the peak.
“Greedy whore,” Eddie spits out, biting her cheek, “you just don’t want to listen, yeah? Want everybody around here to hear how desperate you are for me? Want them to hear how good I make you feel?” she says, curving her fingers towards herself, rubbing her spongy walls. The angle makes her wrist hurt, but she can’t even register it right now — her whole brain screams BuckBuckBuck on repeat.
Buck nods and tries to get the words out, but they can’t escape past Eddie’s fingers; she cries out again in frustration.
“I know, I know, baby, it’s okay,” she coos. Buck’s birthmark is blinding red, and she can’t help but lean down to kiss it. “Do you want to come, baby? Do you want to be a good girl for me and make a mess on my fingers?”
“Yes, I w-wa–” she tries to gargle out, spit dripping down her chin. Eddie gets the message anyway.
“Then come, Buck, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she urges, accentuating each word with her thrusts; she’s on edge — the noises Buck lets out, the squeeze of her around Eddie’s fingers are driving her crazy, and Eddie feels like she’s a second away from coming herself. “Like that, baby, ride it, that’s it, my good girl–”
Buck moans around Eddie’s fingers, so loud that Eddie’s ears are ringing with it; she squirts on Eddie’s hand, strong gushes of slick covering her fingers, the front of her pants, the floor under their legs. Eddie curves her fingers again, rubbing her clit with her palm, and Buck twitches violently, crying out from overstimulation. Eddie pulls her hand out of Buck’s mouth, grabbing her cheeks instead; she leans in and kisses her firmly, muffling her moans and drinking in her spit. Eddie slows the hand between Buck’s legs down, just until Buck stops squirming, and pulls her fingers out, palming Buck’s cunt; it twitches meekly against it.
When Buck’s breathing calms down, she lifts her hand towards Buck’s mouth; Buck opens it obediently and sucks the fingers in, making Eddie preen with pride.
“Aren’t you a sweet girl?” She asks, cooing softly.
Buck nods tiredly, and when the remnants of her slick are sucked off of Eddie’s fingers, she pulls them out of her mouth to say, “I am.”
“Yes, you are,” Eddie smiles, nosing her sweaty cheek. She kisses her, slow and steady, enveloping Buck’s body with her arms. “You did so good, baby, I am so proud of you,” she says, pecking her lips.
“Thank you, Eddie,” Buck replies. She sighs against her mouth. “I’m proud of you, too. You made me feel so good.”
“I’m glad,” Eddie replies.
They stay embraced like that for several minutes, swaying gently, until Buck unhooks her thigh from Eddie’s and puts it on the floor. She lifts her arms, stretching out, and lands them down on Eddie’s shoulders.
“You ripped my fishnets,” she pouts petulantly.
“And you squirted all over my pants. I bought them for you, anyway, baby. I can do whatever I want with them,” Eddie replies. “I’ll buy you new ones,” she adds a second later.
“You better,” Buck sighs. “Do you think anybody heard us?”
“You mean heard you,” Eddie teases. “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention to that. Was kind of distracted.”
“And what distracted you? Some pretty thing?” Buck grins.
“The prettiest,” Eddie replies, kissing her on the cheek. She musters all the energy she can to pull away and says, “C’mon, let's clean you up. Somebody promised to take care of me.”
“Oh, I will, baby. Gonna make you scream for me,” Buck whispers in her ear. “Maybe after we shower? I feel so gross.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
Later, when they’re in the Uber on their way back home, with Buck’s head nestled under Eddie’s chin, she says:
“Hey, Buck.”
“Hm?” she replies drowsily.
“What do wolf spiders have to do with dancing?”
“Oh!” Buck jumps up, the sleep gone from her voice in an instant. “Wolf spider, or Lycosa tarantula, is named after a region in Italy, and its bite was believed to be so venomous that it led to a hysterical condition called tarantism. It made people jump violently, and that’s where the tarantella dance originates from. Eddie, did you know, did you know, the Neapolitan tarantella is actually a courtship dance, and it uses a faster rhythm and a more cheerful melody…”
Eddie smiles, squeezing her hand around Buck’s thigh, and lets her voice lull her to sleep.