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“You look ridiculous,” Manon groans, as soon as she sees it. “Why did you get this one?”
“Well, I was going to buy one of the flesh colored ones,” Megan replies dryly, already applying lube with confident hands. “But they were sold out and I didn’t want to come back empty handed. Plus, this seems much more fun.”
“For who?” Manon plants her hands on her hips, managing to draw Megan’s gaze down there too and destroy her already spotty concentration. “You know this is supposed to be sexy right? A bright pink unicorn strap is the least sexy thing you could come back with.” She starts to get off the bed, and Megan comes to her senses in time to grab Manon’s ankle, thankfully not with her lubricated hand, as she tries to flee.
“Whoa there. This isn’t sexy to you?” She makes a show of wiggling her hips, laughing at the way Manon visibly cringes. “You’re not even going to see it really, just… close your eyes or something. Concentrate on the feeling.”
Manon grumbles something under her breath, going limp as Megan drags her back by the foot and straddles her thighs. She looks very deliberately in the other direction, not wanting to acknowledge the eye sore appendage currently pointing in a comically lewd fashion towards her face. “This would be something you pick.”
Megan laughs. “I asked you to come with me. And don’t forget that this was originally your idea.”
“I didn’t know you’d come back with this,” Manon protests. “The one I picked out was a nice, masculine blue.”
“Yeah, and it was like twice the size of your head. It would’ve torn you apart. And I didn’t realize you were looking for something masculine, babe.” Megan says, giving Manon a playful slap on her left hip. “Something you wanna tell me?”
“That you’re painfully unserious, and I hate you sometimes.”
Megan mock-gasps. “Wow, rude.”
“But kinda true.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t have to put up with this. Maybe I should just take this off and put it away.” Megan pretends to move off the bed, but Manon seizes her arm before she can do so. “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.”
If possible, the constant blush Manon’s been sporting ever since Megan donned the ‘Cloud Rider Unicorn’ grows even deeper, making Megan wonder how she has any blood left anywhere else in her body. “This is so embarrassing.”
Megan shrugs. “Not to me. This is actually, like, top five experiences of my life.”
Manon huffs. “Well, I’m glad this is entertaining for you, at least.”
Well that gets Megan’s attention, and for the first time all night she starts to wonder if Manon really isn’t just putting an act on. “I can take it off if you’re really not into it,” Megan says, feeling suddenly guilty. “I want you to enjoy yourself, if it makes you uncomfortable we can just do something else.”
“Something else?”
“Anything else. And I don’t just mean sex stuff, I mean we can get dressed, watch a movie, cuddle, whatever.” Megan sits back on her heels, half wishing she hadn’t decided to put on the strap-on already as it makes this conversation kind of awkward. Still, taking it off seems counter-intuitive.
Suddenly, Manon lets out a giggle.
“What?” Megan’s lips twitch too, an automatic reaction to Manon’s laugh.
“I just can’t take you seriously with a unicorn horn strapped to your hips.”
“Oh, fuck you!” Megan lightly slaps her arm through her own laugh. As the sound of their laughter fades, Manon smiles up at her in such a shy yet tender way that Megan feels the affection bubble in her chest. “What?”
“I just love you, how caring you are.” But then she has to ruin the moment by rolling her eyes sarcastically. “Like, only a little bit though. Don’t get excited.”
“Damn, that’s a shame. ‘Cause I happen to love you quite a lot.”
“Yikes.” Manon says dramatically. “Embarassing for you.”
“Very. Do you think I can convince you otherwise?” Megan leans in closer, one hand on either side of Manon’s head.
“That depends. How are you going to do that?”
“Hmm…” Megan pretends to think about it, sliding herself forward so she’s kneeling in between Manon’s legs, which part easily for her. “I think that the best way to start would probably be with a kiss.”
“A kiss?” Manon echoes, already looking down at Megan’s mouth.
“Of course. The thing you should know about me by now is that I am an excellent kisser. Dare I say the best there ever was.”
“Really.” Manon just looks amused now, and okay, the bedroom eyes she’s throwing at her is going a long way to recreating the mood, for Megan at least. “Do tell.”
“I’m kind of over talking. I’m more of a show, don’t tell, kinda girl.” With that, she leans down to press her lips against Manon’s in a soft kiss, mindful of the strap-on which she carefully guides out of the way with one hand.
No matter how many times they kiss, Megan never quite seems to get used to it. Maybe it’s the way Manon sinks so eagerly into every movement, in a way that’s completely unlike the usual image of herself she puts up to the world but so very like the one Megan has come to know in these past few years of being in a relationship with her.
When they break away a few minutes later. Manon’s cheeks are flushed again, but not from embarrassment this time. Megan smiles in a rather self-satisfied way as she stretches out alongside Manon, propping herself up on one elbow. She strokes a hand over Manon’s abs, over the jut of her ribcage, feeling her shudder and arch slightly up into the touch. And she can’t help but tell her, “You really are beautiful, you know that?”
Manon returns a smile. “Look who’s talking.”
Megan flips her hair back, fluttering her eyelashes. “Tell me more.”
Manon laughs, sliding her fingers into Megan’s hair. “And humble too,” she says voice noticeably lower. “Let’s just go back to kissing already.”
“So demanding…”
She hangs just out of reach for the fun of it, teasing her, making Manon huff with annoyance a few times as she tries to lean up and kiss Megan and misses. After the third time this happens though, Manon gets sick of it; as Megan dodges away she seizes her by the cheeks and pulls her down into an eager, hard kiss that easily betrays her nervous excitement– and okay, banter with Manon is great but they were definitely somewhere before all of this and it’d be really good to get back there, please and thank you.
She reaches down between them, past Manon’s slight hipbones and over her thighs, and then up, and..
Oh.
There’s a brief moment of pause, where Manon freezes slightly against her, and Megan can’t hold back a gasp.
“Manon..”
Guess we didn’t need that lube, Megan finds herself thinking, but has enough sense not ot say it out loud.
“Don’t start.” Mutters Manon.”
“You’re… soaked.” In fact, Manon might be wetter than Megan’s ever felt her be before. It’s instinct for Megan’s fingers to glide downwards, and inside–just for a moment, to feel her pulse around her digits, to see her bite down on her lip and her eyes close momentarily.
Megan turns Manon’s face towards hers, and captures her lips in a short but bruising kiss. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me, even with the unicorn horn,” she breathes against her lips. “I can always make you hot.”
“Yeah? Is that what happened?” Manon’s eyes are closed, but her hips are moving against Megan’s hand ever so slightly. In lieu of a verbal answer she presses harder and deeper until Manon lets out a strained squeak and digs her nails into Megan’s back.
“God, so fucking hot.” And she can’t stop herself from touching Manon then, from twisting her fingers and curling them inside her, her breath catching in a way that plays havoc with Megan’s mental functions. For a while she totally forgets what they actually set out to do, too wrapped up in the feel of Manon around her, wet and hot; she ends up with her lips on Manon’s thigh, wanting so badly to taste and to run her mouth over every jumping muscle. Megan bites at her skin, tongue tracing patterns through wetness and briefly, over Manon’s clit.
But Manon can only take a few more seconds of that before she’s squirming, pushing Megan’s head away. “Meg, stop teasing. Just hurry up and put it in me already, before I change my mind.”
“Okay, okay,” Megan says, already up on her knees and positioning herself. Her legs are shaking slightly beneath her, but she’s unsure how much of that is from excitement and how much from nerves. She covers it by confidently pulling Manon’s legs out from under her– getting a cute little squeal in response, and wrapping them tight around her waist. “So bossy. You know it doesn’t hurt to say please.”
“I wouldn’t even have to ask if you would just get on w—” Manon trails off abruptly as Megan guides the tip of the toy forwards a little, nudging between her legs.
She meant to cut off her speech a little more than that in some sort of dramatic gesture, but to be honest, handling the positioning of the strap-on is kind of weird. She’s never really had to guide anything bigger than her fingers into someone before, and it’s hard getting the balance between concentrating on what she’s doing and watching Manon’s face to make sure she’s not hurting her. And the way Manon herself is observing the whole process is a little nerve-wracking too, which surprises Megan. She has always carried a bit of performance anxiety around this, and it suddenly hits her that trying something new is only making it worse. She wants this to be incredible for Manon, mind-blowing even, and that pressure is starting to make her a little desperate.
“Okay?” she asks. Manon doesn’t respond immediately, but her hands grip the back of Megan’s neck, cupping it; she takes in a sharp breath through her nose as Megan slides further in. “Manon?”
“It’s–” Manon hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. Then, she half shrugs, half smiles. “Go a little harder?”
Okay. Okay, she can do that. She can do this. Or at least, she thinks she can, until Manon leans up to kiss her again– it just throws off her control of the angle even more, and she’s distracted to boot. Because of this, Megan miscalculates her next movement and accidentally throws herself off balance. She nearly falls right on top of Manon but manages to catch herself at the last moment, but the sudden jerk causes Manon to hiss in pain.
“Sorry, sorry,” Megan says, hurriedly pulling herself upright. “Oh no, did I hurt you?”
Manon’s wincing. “A little—but it’s okay; I’m fine, I’m fine. You can keep going. Really,” she adds, because Megan’s expression obviously looks worried.
So she does keep going. But it’s still— not right, somehow, because Megan just can’t quite get into a good position that doesn't completely murder her legs but is also pleasurable for Manon. She keeps wriggling around, making it hard for Manon to keep track of what spots she should avoid, and which ones are slightly better. Unfortunately the one angle that does seem to draw more than a few deep breaths from Manon is way too low for Megan to sustain without really jarring her hips. She’s flexible, but evidently not that flexible.
Despite her labored attempts to keep it together, Megan finds her eyes pricking with tears of frustration. This isn’t going at all like she originally envisioned. The doubt in her mind causes her to think that maybe they should stop.
Except no, Megan can do this, she’s going to get this right; she’s going to make Manon feel amazing and give her the best fucking orgasm she’s ever had. Manon just makes all of this look so easy.
She just needs to keep trying.
And maybe start going to yoga with Sophia and Lara again.
This goes on for about five minutes, with both of them still struggling to find a good place before Manon suddenly puts a hand on her bicep and squeezes. Megan stops immediately.
“Are you okay?” She frowns down at her, trying to tell from her expression what Manon’s feeling. Maybe it was a squeeze of pleasure, but somehow she’s doubtful. “Is it hurting?”
“I’m alright. It’s just…” Manon bites her lip. “I’m not sure this is working.”
Oh.
“Okay,” says Megan, blinking fast, and sitting up again. “Nevermind, we tried; just give me a second to take it off–”
“No.” Manon almost shouts the word, shocking Megan. “Wait, I still want to keep going.”
“Huh?”
“I want to keep going,” Manon repeats, “but—not like this.”
Megan tries to understand, she does, but her brain isn’t quite working right now. “I don’t get it.”
Are Manon’s ears going red? “Nevermind.”
“No, please,” Megan all but begs, grabbing her hand. “If there’s something I can do to make this better, tell me.”
Manon’s staring at her, her expression unreadable. “Megan,” she says. “You’re doing the thing again.”
“Doing what thing?”
“Getting into your head. Putting a load of pressure on yourself. It’s just sex, doesn’t have to be complicated.”
Megan bites her lip, averting her eyes. She whispers “I just want to make you feel good, that’s all.”
Manon groans and rubs her temples in frustration. “You do, all the time. Here, just let me…” Manon trails off, but she’s getting up.
Megan watches her do this, confused; but then, to her surprise, Manon turns clumsily and positions herself on hands and knees, facing away from Megan.
Her jaw drops. For several seconds, she is entirely speechless as all the moisture in her mouth kind of relocates elsewhere.
“Are you sure?”
Manon nods jerkily.
But it’s not enough for Megan. She needs to hear it. Out loud.
“Please, I wanna hear you baby,” Megan breathes, crawling up behind Manon. She puts her hands on Manon’s hips, pulls her back, one hand skimming over the inside of her thigh.
Manon lets out a breath and then bows her head. “I’m very sure. Come on, just make me feel good.”
“I love you,” Megan whispers. She hears it echoed back at her, but it’s cut off halfway through with a sharp gasp when Megan’s fingers slide over Manon, finding her entrance and then slipping the toy into her. That was what Megan meant to do earlier. She loves doing that.
“How’s the angle now?” She can’t help but ask.
“Yep,” Manon gasps back, which isn’t really an answer but Megan’ll take it.
It’s different from this way. Really different. She can’t see Manon’s face which she finds a little worrying, just in case she ends up doing it wrong. In another way, though, it’s more intense—there’s not quite the same strain in her core from keeping herself elevated, but it’s harsher on the backs of her thighs. And the rhythm seems easier to fall into as well, using Manon’s hips as leverage to pull her back as a counterpoint to every thrust.
(The only issue is the bed springs, which are making an ungodly racket right now. Megan sincerely hopes that Yoonchae and Lara aren’t in their hotel room, because there’s no way she’s stopping this or anybody.)
She’s mumbling something under her breath, but too quietly for her to hear; Megan pauses momentarily to listen, which makes Manon let out another pained moan.
“What is it?” Megan asks fearfully.
“Stop fucking stopping,” Manon growls and Megan snaps into action to start up again. “And—and…” She nearly stops again, but then, “Harder.”
Experimentally, Megan draws her hips all the way back and slams back in with a quick movement. The reaction she gets is a soft, deep noise she’s never heard from Manon before, and a long shiver running all the way up her spine.
“Yeah,” Megan can’t help herself saying, feeling pleased with herself, but then realises it seems a little silly. Hoping Manon didn’t notice, instead concentrates on her rhythm and making each of her strokes even and strong.
Then, she suddenly hits a spot that makes Manon properly moan, much louder than before– and she sounds vaguely surprised as she does so, like she wasn’t expecting it to feel that good. Megan has to physically bite down on her lip to stop herself from returning it .
“God, you sound good,” Megan whispers. “I..” She hesitates, not sure whether Manon would respond favorably. Normally, it’s Manon uttering filthy things to her while Megan writhes in pleasure but sue her, she’s feeling adventurous. “I love it when you moan for me..”
She doesn’t respond with words. Megan has a hand on her back, so she feels it tense a little under her fingers, along with the curve that deepens when Manon tilts her lower body and rests her forehead on the bed covers.
She takes another chance. “I really do,” Megan murmurs, picking up the pace. “And to be honest, Manon, I think you’re secretly loving this too. I think you like me fucking you hard, like this, on your hands and knees for me.” She laughs breathlessly when Manon lets out a weak noise and spreads her legs a little, rocking back into her. Wow. “That’s what I thought. I guess you like my choice after all.”
“Y-yeah,” Manon pants back to her. Megan’s not entirely sure Manon knows what she’s agreeing to, but it doesn’t matter because Megan’s picked up her pace now and reduced Manon’s vocabulary to incoherent noises.
“You look so good like this, on your knees for me.” Her voice is reverent. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Somehow Manon picks that moment to regain some of her brain power. She looks back over her shoulder; her hair plastered to her sweaty shoulder and her cheeks are glowing red. “Baby’s getting confident.” Manon says. However, the sarcastic comment loses some impact when her eyes are rolling back in her head.
“Got jokes, huh?” Megan readjusts her grip, angles a little more left and produces another deep groan. “I think you’re enjoying my confidence though.”
It’s about here that Megan widens her stance somewhat, and reaches around to search out Manon’s clit. She finds it swollen and begging for her touch the way Manon wouldn’t do out loud. That said, the strangled noise Manon lets out is just as good, as though she’s not quite sure how to process what’s happening to her.
Megan loves that—the fact that it’s her making her moan and writhe like a mad woman, and that she's the only one who gets to see her this way. She loves that this was Manon’s idea, and she internally kicks herself for not coming up with this before her.
Fuck, this is awesome. She fights the urge to do something unexpectedly weird as a result of her excitement, like screaming or referencing a meme, or spanking her, since she imagines that probably wouldn’t go down too well. Instead, for now she stays slow, but hard and steady, building a rhythm that finally works for them. Megan would do this all day if she could.
That said, if she’s being perfectly honest (and just a little selfish), it’s the wrong angle to provide anything but the barest of relief to her— just this side of agonizing teasing. On the other hand, she’s worried she’ll lose the perfect sounds that Manon’s making if she tries to adjust anything right now. On the other hand, much as she’d like to keep this going forever, she thinks she might die if she doesn’t come soon. And alright, maybe that is extremely selfish, but insanity seems right around the corner if she keeps having to deal with the nice-but-not-enough pressure from the harness, and the sight of Manon finally losing herself in the sensations—hair swinging with every thrust and her head tipped back in pleasure.
Luckily, even from behind Megan can tell Manon’s getting close. Every muscle in her body is coiled up tight, curling her inwards like it’s readying itself for something massive. Her noises haven’t exactly decreased in volume but their coherency has completely disappeared, she’s not so much moaning or saying words now but just emitting random vowels and syllables, and the occasional hissing breath.
“Are you going to come for me?” Megan is feeling a little high on power now, slowing her hips down, loving the way Manon keens in protest.
“God, yes.” Manon says, voice choked and muffled by the bed sheet.
“Yes what?”
Manon’s fists clench in the sheets, stalling, unsure, but then Megan slows even more and she finally blurts out, “Yes–God, fuck, Megan, please let me come, I’m so fucking close!”
The words, the way Manon is begging her creates a shudder all the way up Megan’s back and down to her toes. For a moment her stomach lurches so much she almost thinks she’s come too. But she doesn’t, and the next moment she’s fucking Manon, fucking her with all she’s got, reeling in her shocked, sharp intake of breath and the way she falls deathly silent all of a sudden. And Megan can picture her face now, mouth open and her face screwed up tight, and…
Manon does come. Pretty damn hard as a matter of fact—with a short, high pitched groan, before the convulsions start. She tightens so much around the strap-on that it’s actually difficult to keep moving. Megan slows her thrusts and her fingers, gently bringing her down and biting her own lip to stop from moaning herself.
“Baby,” Manon’s half chanting under her breath, a weak sob in her words. “Shit, Megan.”
Gradually all their movement slows until they come to a complete stop. Megan cautiously pulls out, and Manon deflates onto the bed, curling up in a ball. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly and her hair is stuck to her forehead due to the sweat that’s accumulated at her hairline. Her face is flushed and there are several red angry marks along her hips where Megan’s nails dug into her skin. Megan thinks it’s the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.
“Wow,” murmurs Megan, awestruck, as she unbuckles the harness and tries to get out of it without taking her eyes off her girlfriend.
“Mm. Shhh,” Manon says, too tired to even tell her to shut up properly. Megan takes that as a sign of a job well done and snuggles up to Manon’s side, kicking the harness away. Manon buries her face in Megan’s neck, her breathing still choppy and hot on her skin. Megan wishes she could take a photograph of this exact moment so she could remember it forever. There’s a burning in the tops of her thighs that says she’s going to ache tomorrow, and her knees are sore from balancing her weight on them for so long.
But it was so totally worth it.
“I love you,” she says softly, holding Manon tight; her heart swelling with it.
“I love you too.”
She stays like that for a while, simply gazing at Manon’s face, from her slightly pointed features to her smudged make up, grinning to herself. When Manon had brought this idea up a few weeks ago she’d been nervous (but mostly excited), but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it. She’s already looking forward to the next time.
For now, though, she’s content just to stay like this.
…Or she would be, except for the fact that Megan’s still feeling pretty selfish, because she can’t really enjoy this moment with all of her attention. It’s not that she doesn’t absolutely love the afterglow and the cuddling, because she does—it’s just that, well, she’s only human and Megan really needs to come.
Pretty much now, in fact.
It’s only when she starts drifting one hand down her body covertly drifting one hand down her body without trying to alert Manon that she actually speaks, making Megan blush and freeze.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” says Manon, her eyes still shut. “After all that teasing and for actually fucking me with that ridiculous thing, I think it’s only fair that you have to wait a minute or two.” She cracks one eyelid open to look at Megan, whose mouth is open in disbelief. “You didn’t actually think I wouldn’t get you back, did you?”