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Oh, my God, this is so unbearable
Make it stop, this is more than medical
All I want is to feel beautiful inside and out
You're the one that can save me from myself
Destruction, 999, I need your help
All I want is to feel beautiful
~
Everything about Mira is sharp. Her jaw. The slant of her eyes. The angle of her nose. Her eyebrows, shaped to death by her stylist. Her shoulders and knees and elbows. The hollow of her collar bones.
Her attitude. Her personality. Her words.
Sharp enough to slice, to wound, to maim. Too sharp to hold.
She tilts her head and eyes her reflection. She runs one sharp nail down the line of her jaw, hard enough to leave a faint red line behind. She sneers at herself and then has to look away, unable to bear even seeing her own expressions.
She's not stupid. She's not blind (okay she's a little blind, but not that much). She knows objectively that she's beautiful, god knows every tabloid and magazine certainly says as much. But it's manufactured. She’s just as real a woman as a zirconia is masquerading as a diamond. She doesn't have the youthful roundness and bubbly personality of Zoey. She lacks the effortless elegance and natural girl-next-door beauty that Rumi exudes.
Mira was made in a machine. The result of pruning shears and armature wire, like a bonsai. Plucked and picked and twisted and held into the perfect shape. The product of surgery and money and drugs. An artifice.
A fake.
And the truly sick part is that no one made her do it. Everything was entirely of her own volition. Bobby and Celine would die before they even hint that she needs to diet or get work done. She knows that there are other Idols in the industry that aren't half as lucky as she is, and here she is, unhappy with the results of her own choices.
Hell, there are women in the world that would kill for Mira’s money and access and support system that got her exactly what she wanted and with relative ease. She should cry more about how hard her life is.
Mira scoffs at herself and turns her back to the mirror.
She whips her shirt and sports bra off in one smooth motion, throwing them both in the general direction of the laundry basket. She tries to force herself not to look down, but her brain is rebelling, trying to hurt her own feelings extra hard today.
Her breasts are small and swoop upward naturally. Her doctor had offered to make them bigger, fuller, more perfectly round. Fake. She had declined. She didn't want to look unbalanced and she's always been slender. A "ppyeodagwi" according to her father in his more affectionate moments, before she became someone he couldn't command, and therefore, couldn't love.
Zoey calls her a “beanpole” in English. She's not really sure what that's supposed to mean, but she knows Zoey says it in a playful way.
Mira runs her fingers over her ribs. It tickles. She digs her nails in until it hurts.
Ugly, skinny thing. Bag of bones indeed.
Her nails leave red indents behind.
Mira strips out of her leggings and underwear in one fell swoop as well. This part isn’t actually that bad. She tosses her clothes in the hamper and reaches behind herself to pull at the tape holding her in place. She unwraps herself quickly and everything shifts back into place easily.¹
She throws the tape in the trashcan. She very pointedly looks directly at the handle of the medicine cabinet and pulls it open. She doesn’t look at the mirrors on the inside of the cabinet either, just looks directly at her skin care products and takes what she needs: makeup remover, cotton pads, skin cleanser, moisturizer, all arranged by the sink. She closes the mirror door and immediately makes eye contact with herself again.
She wishes fleetingly, but also for the thousandth time, that she looked like her mother. The woman was a horrid bitch, but she was a beautiful horrid bitch. But no, Mira looks like her fucking father. Everything thin, pointed, narrow, long. Built like a child’s stick figure drawing.
She blinks and for a startling second the face that looks back at her is not her own. Mira’s instinctive response to fear has always been to stand her ground and fight so she’s not at all surprised that her gok-do is in her hand without consciously calling for it, but when she looks back at the mirror…everything is normal. She’s standing there, naked and wide-eyed with fear, but it’s her.
She exhales in a gust and releases her weapon back into the Honmoon. It dissipates with a twinkle. The draining of the adrenaline in her system brings back that sick disgust that lingers around her heart and belly and it almost makes her feel physically nauseated.
Disassociation. That hasn’t happened in a while. As much as she doesn’t want to, Mira looks back in the mirror. She’s still unhappy with what she sees, that ugly sneering expression, but it’s her.
She rests both hands on the counter top. She drums her fingers, enjoying the clack of her nails on the hard surface. Her hands and fingers are just as long and thin as the rest of her. Bony, gangly, tipped with nails that are far too gorgeous for someone like her. Fake and plastic on the outside and full of ugly thoughts on the inside.
"Mira?"
Mira looks over and sees Rumi standing in the open door. She's in one of Mira's sweaters that falls to her mid thighs, wearing it like a gown.² Her legs are bare and her recently cut hair is hanging loose down her back. She's gorgeous. Mira looks back down at her hands, clenches them into fists.
“I felt you summon your weapon. Is everything ok?” she continues when Mira doesn’t respond.
Damn the Honmoon. Mira swallows and leans away from the counter in a stretch. “Yeah, I just scared myself. Thought I saw- well it doesn’t matter.”
Rumi approaches almost silently, as is her custom, and then hops up on the counter beside Mira. The sweater rides up a little when she spreads her legs. She wraps one hand gently around Mira's wrist and tugs until Mira is between her legs. Mira doesn't resist but she doesn't immediately wrap herself in Rumi's embrace either.
"What's wrong, jagiya?" Rumi whispers. She touches Mira's bare shoulders briefly before running her hands down Mira's chest, over her small pointed breasts, her flat stomach, and resting on her narrow hips, pulling her closer until Mira's hip is touching Rumi's inner thigh. Her skin is warm and Mira shivers just a little.
Mira shakes her head. "Nothing that can be fixed." She looks away from Rumi's concerned expression.
“Tell me anyway?”
Mira breathes through her instinct to snap, to say something mean that will drive Rumi away. Maybe something that will start a fight to distract from the way she’s feeling. If she can be angry about something else for a while she’ll feel more like herself. She could lie. Rumi would call her on it. Then she could say that Rumi would know all about lying. That’s part of her problem right? That she acts too rashly? That she’s too sharp. A knife without a guard. She doesn’t want to be that person. She doesn’t want to be that kind of partner. Hurting Rumi won’t make her feel better. It might, for a moment, but afterward she would feel like shit. She would just hate herself more.
But if she tells the truth, if she lets Rumi see, if she acknowledges the pain, then she’ll actually have to wrestle with it. She’ll have to do that anyway, she reasons. Her instinct is to do it alone, but she doesn’t have to do that anymore.
“Your faults and fears must never be seen” was the old way. They are supposed to be doing it differently now. Sharing their pain, helping each other, growing together to be stronger.
It’s a lot harder to change than Mira thought it would be.
“Do I look normal?” she asks finally. “Do I look like me?”
Rumi takes her question seriously. She looks Mira over with a careful eye, lifts her hands from Mira’s waist to cup her jaw, caress her high cheekbones, and look deeply in her eyes. Mira sees a flash of gold when Rumi tilts her head just right. “Yes, you look like Mira.”
“I don’t feel like myself.” Mira clenches her teeth so hard she can hear them creak in her head.
There's a pluck at the weave of the Honmoon just then. Not the kind when a demon breaks through, but one of the gentle tugs that they've all learned to do now to reach out to each other. Mira feels it warble away from them. She grimaces. Rumi's calling Zoey.
Zoey appears like a hurricane within a minute and nearly smacks into the wall in her haste . "What? What is it? What's going on?"
Mira does have to huff out a laugh at that. Trust Zoey to light up the room. Rumi giggles against the side of Mira's head and it vibrates through her skull.
Zoey approaches with bouncy steps, her expression showing care but not overt concern. She inserts herself into Rumi and Mira's bubble without trouble, her hand curling over Rumi's on Mira's far hip.
"I don't feel well," Mira manages after a moment.
Zoey nods and squeezes her closer, pressing a kiss to Mira's closest shoulder. "Body or mind?"
"Mind."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Mira clenches her eyes closed and rests her forehead on Rumi's shoulder. She tries to come up with the words to explain but she just can't. "Stupid," she spits out eventually. Both Rumi and Zoey pull her in closer. Her right side is now fully leaning against Rumi, her arm around Mira's back and gently twirling a lock of her hair. Rumi doesn't say anything but she does growl quietly in disagreement.
Zoey fully wraps her arm around Mira's waist and presses the length of her body against Mira's left side. "No, if it upsets you, it's not stupid. And if you're calling yourself stupid, that's not true either."
Mira tilts her head and looks at Zoey. Her expression is so serious and concerned that Mira feels traitorous tears prick at her eyes.
Zoey caresses Mira's cheek when she sees her eyes are open and smiles gently at her. "Hey there, smoke show."
Mira has no control over the muscles in her face at the moment. She grimaces on instinct at the pet name. Mira hates being lied to.
Zoey doesn't remove her hand but she does click her tongue like she just solved a puzzle. "Can you do yes/no for me?" she asks.
Mira hesitates. Under her ear, Rumi starts to gently purr. She still hasn't said anything, letting Zoey take the lead. She puts a hand under Mira's chin and lifts her face up just enough to place a sweet rumbly kiss under Mira's eye. Some of the tension bleeds out of her shoulders. Mira bumps her forehead against Rumi's chin in return. She glances at Zoey and nods.
"You went out to run errands?"
Nod. She could have asked one of their assistants or even Bobby to do the tasks for her, but she's felt so pent up lately. She loves their extended break but they've barely left the tower. She just needed a change of scenery.
"Someone said something to you?"
Nod.
"Something mean?"
Mira doesn't know how to respond. That's complicated. Mira knows with confidence that the other woman had meant to compliment her. She had very clearly been flirting. She decides that shrugging is the best answer she can give.
Zoey hums in understanding. "On accident?"
Nod. "She was flirting," Mira says.
"How dare she," Zoey says dramatically. "Though I don't blame her."
Rumi hums in agreement. "She has good taste."
Zoey's hand moves down from Mira's cheek to cup the back of her neck instead. "Can you tell me what happened?"
~
Mira had stopped in to a coffee shop on her way back home. She'd been to this one many times but the barista at the counter was new to her. Her name tag said Ji-won and despite the bland grey of her uniform shirt and hat she was quite pretty. She made eye contact with Mira straight away and leaned forward on the counter eagerly.
"Hey, Ha-joon," Ji-won glanced behind her to the guy making coffee for another guest, "pass me an extra cup 'cause I just found me a tall drink of water."³
Mira saw Ha-joon roll his eyes and ignore her. Mira chuckled. "You're quite forward," she commented.
Ji-won winked. "You're quite gorgeous. I just can't help myself."
Mira rolled her eyes but she couldn't help smiling. She was no stranger to being hit on, but usually by men and it had never happened while she was in disguise. "Can I get a large matcha latte, please?"
Ji-won rang it up and continued chattering. "Have you ever considered modeling?"
Mira smirked. "Once or twice." She gave the girl a 200% tip and Ji-won just grinned wider and waggled her eyebrows.
"You'd make a killing with a jawline like that. Sharp enough to hurt my feelings."
"Sorry, I'm going to have to hurt your feelings in a different way. I’m unavailable." She didn't want to be too honest, just in case Ji-won figured out who she was later.
Ji-won clutched at her chest and groaned dramatically. “I’ll just have to take comfort in the fact that you’re out there somewhere.” Ji-won worked on Mira’s order right away and within a few moments she scooted it across the counter to her.
Mira took the cup and saw that Ji-won had scrawled her phone number on the side of the cup along with a note. ‘Just in case you change your mind.’ Mira gave her a flat look but she couldn’t help the little uptick at the corner of her mouth.
Ji-won waggled her fingers in a cheeky wave. “See you later, handsome.”
Mira felt her smile freeze on her face as the words lanced through her like one of Zoey’s shin-kals. She didn’t respond, just turned and left. Her mind was buzzing as if an actual hive of bees had taken over the inside of her skull. She made it a block holding her coffee before dumping it in the next available trash can.
~
Zoey manipulates her until she has her back fully to Rumi, bare butt to the cold quartz between Rumi's legs. Rumi leans forward to press fully against her back and Zoey takes her front. Zoey wraps both arms around her waist and leans against her, kissing her shoulder sweetly. "I'm sorry, baby."
Mira feels the hot wash of shame rise up in her chest and settle like a weight in her head. This is so stupid. Why is she letting what a stranger said affect her? The girl wasn't even being an asshole about it.
Rumi breaks her long silence. "What can we do for you?" She runs her soft hands down Mira's arms, causing her to shiver in their wake. Rumi's voice, smooth and warm, like tea with honey, drips down her spine to start flushing the shame away.
Mira feels stupid, childish even, for asking, but she knows they won't make fun of her. Not in the state she's in. She feels safe pinned between them. "Do you think I'm pretty?"
Their response is near simultaneous and almost aggressive.
"Yes!"
"Of course!"
Mira ducks her head against the top of Zoey's. She can feel tears forming already. They wouldn't lie to her, not again, not after everything they went through and the healing and the love they've shared these past weeks.
She brings up her hands between them. "My hands are so big, and my fingers are long and weird. It's like I have spider legs for fingers."
Zoey captures one of her hands immediately and brings it up to rest her cheek in Mira's palm. "Your hands are so soft." She kisses Mira's wrist.
Rumi takes the other one and brings it to her own thigh, encouraging Mira to grip her. "And so strong." Her breathing hitches in Mira's ear and she clenches Mira tighter between legs. "I love it when your nails dig in." Mira's fingers curl tighter into the meat of Rumi's thigh and she sighs in Mira's ear, "yes, just like that."
Zoey drags Mira's hand down her throat until she can feel the rabbit-like pace of Zoey's heart beat under the pads of her fingers. "Do you feel that?" Mira nods. "That's what you do to me, just with one touch."
Rumi slides her hand over the top of Miras and entwines their fingers, softly singing in her ear. "The spaces between your fingers are right where mine fit perfectly."
Zoey coos. "Awww, Rumi, that's so gay."
Mira's laugh is wet with tears but Rumi is unapologetic. She kisses Mira's shoulder with just a hint of teeth. "Well, Mira makes me feel very gay."
"Same." Zoey manipulates Mira's hand again until they're palm to palm. Zoey's palm is actually wider than Mira's, though her fingers are significantly shorter. Mira is looking at the way their hands are pressed together so Zoey has to duck her head a little to make eye contact. Zoey's pupils are significantly wider than usual. "And the way they feel inside of me?" She bites her lower lip. "I'm thinking about it right now. You hit me so deep."
Mira's breath shudders out of her. She swallows so hard that it actually hurts a little bit. "I'm too tall," she says finally, struggling for a moment to remember that she's upset.
Zoey, already nose to toes with her, shifts to lay her head against Mira's shoulder, face tucked into her neck. She wraps her arms around Mira's back and holds her tightly in one of her perfect hugs. "Just the right height for this."
Rumi runs both of her hands down Mira's thighs as far as she can reach, nails leaving tracks in their wake. "Most of it is these gorgeous legs. I want them wrapped around me." Mira's thighs shake in response and she has to lean more fully against Rumi.
"My- my-" she's distracted from talking by Rumi's mouth migrating to the opposite side of her neck from Zoey and letting her fangs scrape over the skin. She doesn't bite down, but the threat is there. "My breasts are-" Rumi does bite down then, just a little.
"Sexy?" Zoey guesses, pulling back just far enough to frame Mira's breasts between her hands.
"Soft?" Rumi growls when she releases Mira's neck. She drags her nails back up Mira's legs. When she reaches where Zoey's hands are occupied her pressure decreases to a gentle caress over the soft swell of Mira's chest. One of her nails tickles right over Mira's left nipple, drawing an involuntary gasping cry out of her throat.
"Sensitive," Zoey teases, circling the opposite nipple.
Mira's hands shoot to Zoey's hips to pull her closer as she chokes out, "small!"
With her back to Rumi, Mira can't see it, but she can feel it when the Autism takes over Rumi's brain and she blurts out. "So are Zoey's," with a tone so matter of fact that it actually puts them all on pause.
"Okay," Zoey snarks, giving Rumi an unimpressed look over Mira's shoulder.
Rumi continues teasing at Mira's nipple with her nails. "I'm just saying, if your breasts being small is bad, does that make Zoey's bad too?"
"No," Mira concedes immediately. Her voice is high and needy, and every time Rumi completes a circle of her fingers she twitches with a jolt of pleasure.
Zoey smirks. "Damn right." She leans back just enough to wrestle out of her oversized t-shirt and throw it behind her, revealing her bare chest. Her light brown nipples are already in tight points from arousal, just from touching Mira. She also reveals that, like Rumi, she isn't wearing any pants, just a pair of light pink boxer briefs with camels on them.⁴ "Plus," Zoey's smirk turns mischievous, "yours are the perfect size to do this." With no further warning she leans down and takes almost the entirety of Mira's breast into her mouth with a delighted hum.
A bolt of pleasure zips down her spine as she arches into Zoey's touch with a choked whine. It settles warmly in her belly and then spreads out from there to catch in her chest and tingle along her limbs. She clutches Zoey's head to her chest as her girlfriend applies torturous suction along with the dexterous movement of her tongue. Rumi continues to pluck and tease at her other nipple at the same time and returns her mouth to Mira's neck.
Zoey pulls back with a wet pop, dragging her teeth over Mira’s hard nipple as she does. “Trade me, Rumi,” she orders, pushing Rumi’s hand away with her nose and taking Mira’s other breast into her mouth in the same way. Rumi rumbles out a low growl at being moved but switches without further complaint, tugging at Mira’s spit slick skin.
Mira can do little more than whine and hold on. She’s caught tightly between them but when she instinctively rocks her hips, there’s nothing there for her to grind against. Zoey is just out of reach. She leans her head back on Rumi’s shoulder to give her more access to her neck.
Rumi bites down harder this time and sucks. Mira bruises like a peach and she can already feel the blood pooling under Rumi’s teeth. Rumi releases her neck with a wet click of spit. “What else?” she husks into Mira’s ear before nipping at the lobe and sucking it into her mouth.
Mira can’t form words and so makes a confused noise. She’s far too distracted to be expected to think solid thoughts in this moment and has no idea what Rumi is asking for.
“What else do you need, jagiya?” She runs her nose along Mira’s jaw and leaves a gentle bite at the hinge.
Mira turns her head. “Kiss me?”
Rumi might be bitey everywhere else, but when she kisses it's the most gentle and loving thing in the world. Her lips are soft and pillowy, her movements delicate. She lets Mira dictate the pace and direction. She’s no longer tentative like she was when they first got together, but there’s an edge of innocence to the tilt of her mouth and the soft exploration of her tongue. Kissing Rumi is like sinking into a warm bath after a long day. Her hands abandon Mira’s chest and move to cradle her face as if she were made of glass. Not the jagged, broken pieces, but something whole and beautiful. As if she wasn’t afraid to get cut.
Mira’s chin is taken forcefully between two fingers and she’s pulled away from Rumi’s mouth insistently. She opens her eyes to see Zoey's pouting expression. “Do you have any for me, pretty girl?”
Rumi growls at Zoey’s interruption and tries to pull Mira closer. “My turn,” she rumbles at Zoey.
Zoey gives Rumi an unimpressed look. “Behave, Rumi.”
Rumi rumbles again but ducks her mouth down to Mira’s shoulder and starts to kiss and suck there instead.
Mira has never been struck by lightning, but she imagines that it's not unlike the way kissing Zoey feels. Where Rumi is soft and yielding, Zoey is far more active in running the show. She likes to suck on Mira’s bottom lip and tongue. She moans and whines and nips. She moves Mira’s head where she wants it and plunders her. Her hands sink into Mira’s hair and tug until Mira is whining back. Zoey slots her leg between Mira’s, careful not to pinch anything, and Mira grinds against her thigh. She knows she’s whimpering like the most pathetic creature in the world but she can’t stop herself either.
Zoey tugs Mira’s hips away from the counter and reaches around between Mira's legs to run the tip of one finger over her entrance. Mira shivers. Rumi’s hands have traveled to her hips, and it's a jumbled mess of limbs but she loves having both of their hands on her too much to be worried about logistics.
Zoey pulls back from her mouth, lips swollen and wet and smeared with Mira’s lipstick. "Will you let me fuck you, baby?"
"Mmhmm," Mira whines, all semblance of dignity gone.
Zoey pulls back, both hands back on Mira's hips just above Rumi’s. Mira grabs Zoey's forearms in a panic to keep her from going far. "Shhh, I'm not going anywhere." She kisses Mira's cheek and turns to Rumi. "Go get my gear, yeah?"
Rumi finishes bullying Mira’s neck and shoulder with one more nip before she wiggles out from behind Mira and hops down from the counter. She’s out the door in an eager flash.
Zoey continues to touch her while they wait for Rumi to return. Her hands migrate from Mira's hips to her ribs and then settle with her thumbs under the gentle curve of her breasts, still sensitive from their earlier treatment. Her grip is tight, grounding. Mira's skin erupts in goosebumps in the wake of her touch and she sways forward against Zoey's solid frame. Zoey mouths at the side of her neck that Rumi hadn’t mauled, adding her own marks and turning Mira into a quivering mess.
Rumi returns with a jumble of objects in her arms. She plops it all down on the counter and starts sorting through it with her usual efficiency. She brought Zoey's harness and a bottle of lube, of course, and then three different dildo options and two grinding bases⁵, as well as a nitrile glove which she keeps for herself with a questioning glance at Zoey.⁶ Zoey nods.
Rumi steps away and hops back on the counter, reinserting herself behind Mira. She has to pull the sleeve of her stolen sweater back in order to free her hand so she can put the glove on. She nuzzles Mira and murmurs in her ear, “Zoey’s gonna let me get you ready, ok jagiya?”
Mira nods frantically, leaning back into Rumi’s solid warmth. She hadn’t realized until Rumi had left how cold the bathroom was.
Zoey pulls her attention back. “Which one do you want, pretty girl?”
Mira barely has to look to the side before she sees her favorite. She reaches out and drags the bright orange monstrosity closer. It’s longer than some of the other options, but thinner, and not at all realistic. It also happens to be Zoey’s favorite to use on her.
Zoey passes the bottle of lube over to Rumi and then helps guide Mira to turn around so she's facing Rumi instead. She kisses Mira's shoulder. "I'm gonna get ready. Be good for Rumi."
Mira melts against Rumi's chest and Rumi wraps her calves around the back of Mira's thighs, keeping her close while she lubes up two of her gloved fingers. Mira pushes the hem of Rumi's sweater out of the way so that the full length of her is resting against Rumi's thigh.
Mira had been right, all those weeks ago, the skin on Rumi's inner thighs is as soft as silk.⁷ It feels like heaven as she jogs her hips in desperate need. Rumi stops her after only a few thrusts and Mira’s big enough to admit to begging. “No, no, please. I’ll be good.”
“Just a minute, jagi,” Rumi placates with a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I just need you to be still for a second.” And then Mira feels Rumi’s fingers pressing at her entrance. Her fingers are slippery with lube and she takes a moment just to circle her and spread the slick.
Rumi is always so gentle with her. She presses in with just one finger first and it's hardly a stretch. She thrusts it a few times and then checks in. Mira nods frantically, and then Rumi's second finger is fit in beside the first. Again, a few simple thrusts at first, stretching Mira comfortably.
“Can I touch you?” Rumi asks, reaching to take Mira in hand, but waiting for permission.
“Yes, yes, please!”
Rumi had lubed up her ungloved hand too. She makes a loose circle around Mira for her to thrust against. “Take what you need, baby.”
Mira jerks into motion immediately, and Rumi follows her, timing her thrusts with Mira’s so that she is overtaken with sensation on both sides, and then Rumi curls her fingers just right. The tips of her fingers press forward at the perfect angle to hit that special spot inside her and after only a few more thrusts Mira is cumming, her entire body spasming in ecstasy. She’s breathing hard, like she just finished a hunt, and she slumps bonelessly against Rumi who strokes her a few more times on both sides before she stills and lets Mira rest against her.
Mira isn’t sure how her feet are still under her, but most of her weight is leaning against Rumi anyway, who is pressing sweet kisses to her sweaty brow and nuzzling the side of her face that she can reach. She leaves her fingers inside Mira, but she fumbles with the other one for a hand towel so she can wipe off the excess lube. Once her hand is clean she’s able to push Mira’s hair out of her face and tilt her chin to kiss her properly.
“Did Rumi get you nice and ready for me?” Zoey asks, suddenly pressing fully against her back. She can feel the cool length of silicone along her thigh and she shivers in anticipation
“Mmhmm.”
“Were you a good girl for her?”
“Yes.”
“She was very good,” Rumi agrees. She slips her fingers out of Mira and they’re immediately replaced with Zoey’s pressing against her, rubbing extra lube around her entrance but not pushing inside.
“Well then, I think good girls should get a reward.” She pulls away for just for a second and then her fingers are replaced with the head of her cock, and she hears the sound of Zoey’s slick hand spreading more lube over the length.
One of Zoey's hands is at the base of her spine, petting her gently while she uses the other to guide her cock into Mira from behind. Mira clenches at the stretch and gasps. Zoey stills, leaning forward to kiss Mira's shoulder.
"Relax, relax, relax. I've got you, baby."
Mira breathes out and relaxes; she feels Zoey slip in a little further. She cries out when her knees buckle a bit and she has to brace herself on the counter between Rumi’s legs.
Rumi is watching, still and silent, waiting for direction. She’s shucked her glove and is leaning forward with interest. She licks her lips and meets Mira's eyes.
"Rumi, go down on her while I do this," Zoey orders.
The words are barely out of her mouth before Rumi is on her knees between Mira's legs. She takes Mira all the way to the hilt with one move. The heat and tightness of her throat has Mira quaking. Rumi has not only proven to be very talented with her mouth but also eager to please. Mira and Zoey had definitely teased her about her oral fixation, but Mira was far from complaining. Rumi swallows around her and looks up through her lashes.
“Rumi, you’re doing such a good job. Good girl. Isn’t she, Mira?” Zoey says even as she pushes further into Mira.
“Yes!” Mira cries. “You’re so good, Rumi.”
Rumi moans around her and grips tighter at the back of Mira’s thighs.
With a few more careful thrusts the fronts of Zoey's thighs meet the back of Mira's. She holds still for a moment, running her hands over Mira's ass and lower back. "You feel so good, baby. So tight around me."
Mira reaches back and sinks her nails into the meat of Zoey’s thigh. “God, Zoey, please.”
“What do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you,” Zoey promises so sweetly, gripping Mira’s hips and forcing her to stay still.
“Please just fuck me,” she cries, “please.” Actual fresh tears are running down her cheeks. She needs it so bad.
Zoey isn’t in the mood to tease and Mira is thankful. She sets a brutal pace right away. She pulls out to the tip and with every thrust in their skin slaps. The force leaves a tingling sting in its wake and Mira just knows her ass and the back of her thighs are bright red. Zoey has surgical precision with a strap and she has Mira crying out and hitting notes she would never dream of normally. Mira has to brace herself on the counter with her forearms. Every inch of her is trembling.
"God, look at you." Zoey pulls her head back by a handful of hair. Mira opens her eyes on instinct and sees herself in the mirror.
Her face is red, her mascara is running and her lipstick is smeared from their earlier aggressive kissing. She's breathing heavily through her mouth and her pupils are blown. She's a mess.
"You look so fucking good full of my cock."
Between her legs, Rumi moans and the vibration rocks through her. She reaches down blindly, not able to look away from her reflection with the tightness of Zoey's hold, and grabs at the back of Rumi's head, pulling her as close as she can. Rumi takes it with another moan and absolutely zero fight.
"You gonna cum like this, pretty girl?" Zoey demands, rutting into her aggressively. "Gonna cum in Rumi's mouth and around my cock?"
"Fuck." Mira moans, high and needy as she falls back into the rhythm of Zoey's thrusts pushing her further into Rumi. Every muscle in her legs feels like it's turning to water and her knees buckle. Rumi catches her easily. The subtle swell under patterned biceps and shoulders belays a hidden strength that dwarfs Mira and Zoey's. Rumi helps Mira hike one long leg over her shoulder and both of her arms wrap around Mira's upper thighs to keep her standing.
The change in angle only helps Zoey hit that perfect spot with every thrust. She fucks Mira relentlessly and every forward thrust pushes her deeper into Rumi’s throat which grips her with exquisite pressure. She’s being pieced apart.
Zoey keeps saying filthy things in her ear. “You like my big cock inside you? You like how good I stretch you? Yeah? Gonna let me cum inside you, baby? Can I fill you up?” At the top of every thrust she grinds herself against Mira’s ass.
A steady stream of “yes” is all Mira can say. She can feel her second orgasm building with every thrust, with every word, with every slow drag of Rumi’s mouth on her, with every swallow. And when it finally comes, with Zoey’s panting in her ear and Rumi’s moans between her legs, she feels almost like her soul is being yanked out of her body, wrung like a wet rag, and then stuffed back inside. Every muscle in her body is trembling and like a newborn foal her legs can no longer hold her up at all as she comes apart between her girlfriends. Rumi holds her up even while Zoey continues grinding against her until she too is crying out against the back of Mira’s neck.
The next several minutes are a blur. She distinctly remembers Zoey pulling out of her, so gentle and slow. Rumi is standing suddenly and kissing her face and neck while a warm wet cloth is cleaning her up. There’s a muffled thump as the weight of Zoey’s strap plops into the sink for them to deal with later. Then Rumi and Zoey bundle her out of the en-suite and back into her room.
Mira collapses backward on the bed and whines when Zoey and Rumi make her move further up so her legs aren’t hanging off the side. She feels like all of her muscles are made of water, but she still raises her arms for her girls to curl up against her. Zoey is grinning like a fool against her neck, one naked thigh thrown over Mira’s. Rumi is still dressed, but she curls up on Mira’s chest just the same.
“How do you feel?” Zoey asks, cheeky and proud.
Mira groans. “Tired.”
Zoey and Rumi both laugh. “Good,” Zoey presses a smacking kiss to her cheek. “I did my job right.”
Mira remembers suddenly, the fog of pleasure clearing just enough, and she swats lazily at Rumi’s thigh. “Rumi, you didn’t cum.”
“It's okay.”
“No,” Mira whines. “Come sit on my face.”
Rumi laughs again. “Baby, you’re so tired. I promise I’m fine. You can make it up to me later,” she offers.
“Yeah, nap first and then we’ll make Rumi cum so many times she begs us to stop,” Zoey promises.
“Hey now! Wait a minute!”
“As if you wouldn’t like it.”
“That’s not the point. You can’t just-”
“Oh, can’t I?”
Mira closes her eyes and lets their flirtatious bickering wash over her. Their voices turn into a white noise that has her drifting to sleep.