Work Text:
Before Michaela, Francesca didn’t mind stuffy social events. In fact, she grew up among London’s upper class, attending said events at least once a year. The difference between those engagements and the one she’s at now is Michaela. For Francesca, faking being interested in small talk was easy with her mother hovering.
It’s not so easy with her stunning, show-stopping girlfriend by her side.
Besides, parties at any scale had the habit of making Francesca irritable. The clashing of dinnerware and mouth noises from her fellow guests made Francesca uncomfortable in her own body. The random questions from strangers make her brain work harder than it needed to, affecting her ability to mask. She wanted to hide, but she couldn’t.
After all, this was her first time supporting Michaela at a work event. Not much was on the line but Francesca wanted to make a good impression. More importantly, she wanted to be good for Michaela. That task was growing harder as time progressed though.
Francesca is standing with her girlfriend as she talks with one of her superiors, trying her best to be present.
“Fran—.” She feels a soft hand wrap around the small of her back. “Francesca?” The voice belongs to Michaela.
Francesca’s attention automatically shifts to the woman beside her, her eyes moving from the floor to Michaela. To her voice, her slightly worried expression, and how low her hand is at the moment.
“Sorry, I zoned out for a bit. Did I miss something?” Francesca asks, putting on an artificially cheeky tone.
Michaela inspects her face and gives her a smile she can’t decipher. “Yes, hun. Mr. Anderson here brought up a client of his in Kent. I mentioned that your family resides there occasionally, and he wanted to know your family name.” She gestures to the man in front of her, who waits for her response patiently.
“Bridgerton, sir. My family name is Bridgerton,” Francesca answers.
The man doesn’t recognize the name, much to Francesca’s delight. He shifts the conversation back to Michaela like she was never there. Francesca remains attached to Michaela, the warmth of her girlfriend’s hand searing into her side. It’s the only thing keeping her grounded, and she wants more of her.
—
Francesca’s craving to be held and touched doesn’t go away when they sit down for dinner.
Michaela is next to her, her brown skin glowing from the candlelight on the table. She’s wearing a black dress, professional but form fitting enough for Francesca to visualize what’s underneath. Michaela smells of shea butter and jasmine; there’s nothing Francesca wants to do more than bask in her scent.
She tries to eat the meal in front of her, a steak dinner paid for by Michaela’s place of employment. It looks tasty, but Michaela’s scent lingers under her nose. Francesca finds herself hungry for the woman seated beside her instead of food. She shifts in her seat to relieve herself from the flutter in her stomach.
“Eat your food, hun,” Michaela says casually before turning her attention back to her coworker.
Francesca picks up her fork and takes a bite of mashed potatoes. They’re good, but she finds more pleasure in the feeling of something heavy in her mouth. She pulls the fork out slowly, already missing the contact.
When she looks up, Michaela is already looking at her, her chocolate eyes darkened.
“Is it good?” She asks with an air of faux nonchalance.
Francesca nods, her face heating up. Partially with embarrassment, partially because Michaela noticed her like she wanted. “Yes.”
Michaela’s gaze lingers, momentarily dropping to Francesca’s pink lips. “Good. You should keep eating then.”
Francesca obeys, picking her fork back up to feed herself while Michaela engages with a colleague.
A part of Francesca believes she’s the only one bothered, mentally and especially sexually. Her sexual frustration is her own fault anyways. No one told her to become aroused by a casual touch between lovers, especially one meant to bring her down to Earth. Michaela’s gesture, while kind, just gave her a taste of something she can’t have right now.
The more she eats, the more she wants to leave. To go home, to be wrapped up in Michaela. To be inside Michaela. Francesca suddenly feels like she’s going to wither without feeling Michaela’s skin.
She hooks her leg with Michaela’s to bring her closer. Michaela doesn’t show her any attention but Francesca knows that she’s aware, her grip on her fork tightening. Her chair makes a slight noise at being pulled but no one comments on it. Everyone at the table continues conversing among each other, distracted by the wine on the table.
Michaela doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, she moves the leg attached to Francesca’s. The movement could mean so many things, but Francesca is certain she knows what is coming next. In the meantime, she is comforted by the skin-on-skin contact.
Her girlfriend takes a sip of water, and Francesca notices that her wine is untouched. She unhooks her leg from Francesca and moves her plate forward, away from herself.
“If you all would excuse me, I’m going to take a trip to the restroom,” Michaela announces to her work friends. Only a few notice, and the ones who do just give her a polite smile of acknowledgement. The noise of her chair pushing back is grating.
When she stands up, she looks at Francesca for a split second. Long enough for Francesca to catch and not anyone else.
Francesca doesn’t watch her leave. She remains at the table for a few seconds, steadying her breathing, before following closely behind her girlfriend. They’re probably obvious but Francesca can’t bring herself to care. She doesn’t work here, she’ll live.
Francesca enters the restroom and finds Michaela standing by the sink, hips slightly cocked. Her eyes are still dark despite the fluorescent lighting.
“Lock the door,” she orders. Francesca does what she is told.
Once the door is locked, Michaela walks toward Francesca, somewhat boxing her into a corner. Francesca swallows, making tiny steps backward. Michaela is noticeably shorter but here, her presence towers over Francesca.
“What do you need from me?” Michaela asks. Her voice is soft despite her body language.
Francesca inhales before attempting to answer. There’s so many sensations her brain is processing and she feels like crying. “I….”
Michaela steps a bit closer, their faces almost touching. “Yes?”
Francesca collapses into the smaller woman, unable to keep the distance anymore. She wraps her arms and finds Michaela’s curvy frame, pressing eager kisses to Michaela’s neck and collarbone. “I need to go home. I need you.”
She hears Michaela huff underneath her before pulling away. Michaela pulls Francesca’s face down, her hand under her chin.
“You have an interesting way of showing it,” she teases.
“Michaela, please.”
“I mean it, Francesca. Pulling my chair is a first for you.” She has an attractive smirk on her face. She releases her grip from Francesca’s own face. Her eyes are still taking Francesca apart, but some of the darkness is replaced by concern. “Give me twenty minutes but we’re going to my place.”
Francesca fixes her posture. “Hm?”
Michaela’s smirk turns into a full smile. “We can leave in twenty minutes. I don’t want to keep you here longer than is necessary, but I believe you could use a lesson in patience.”
Francesca is unsure of what to say, still feeling so many things in her head. Her first question is ‘why Michaela’s place and not mine?’
Michaela grabs her left hand, bringing it to her lips for a kiss, and then pulling Francesca’s whole body towards her for a hug. The pressure relieves some of the overstimulation, allowing Francesca to relax in Michaela’s arms.
“I got you, love.”
—
They walk back to the dinner table, hand in hand. Even when seated, Michaela doesn’t let go.
Twenty minutes go by achingly slow, but Michaela keeps her word.
In the car, the overstimulation slowly dissolves, leaving her hunger to be touched. Francesca fidgets and squirms in her seat. There’s nothing she wants more than to be held down, but she has to be patient.
Michaela glances at her when they reach the occasional red light, but she doesn’t speak. Truthfully, there’s no need to.
At this moment, she’s a lioness playing with her prey before she eats.
—
Stepping into Michaela’s house feels awkward. Not because she’s unfamiliar with the place, but she’s unsure of what to do next. She sits on Michaela’s couch, waiting for guidance.
Michaela’s looking at her with thirsty eyes but she’s not moving from the front door. Instead, she smiles while kicking off her shoes.
“A part of me wants to make you wait longer,” Michaela says, breaking the silence. “I keep thinking about you sucking that fork in front of me and the chair….” She pauses. “I feel like twenty minutes and a drive home wasn’t long enough.”
Francesca whines as Michaela walks towards her, eventually standing over her. One hand cups Francesca’s face. “Being overstimulated is one thing, Fran. Getting me aroused in front of my colleagues is another.”
With her free hand, she uses her thumb to brush against Francesca’s lips. The tip of her thumb barely enters her mouth, but it’s enough to make her mouth water for more. Michaela removes her thumb and replaces it with her own lips.
The kiss isn’t rough but there’s so much intention behind it. As the kiss progresses, Michaela begins to unbutton Francesca’s blouse, her fingers taking their time. She moves one of her hands over Francesca’s breasts, which makes her jerk.
“I have something I think you’ll like,” Michaela whispers into her ear, breaking away from the kiss. “Do you want it here or on the bed?”
Francesca looks wrecked and her shirt isn’t even all the way off. Her blush has spread across her entire face, the blue of her irises partially hidden by her dilated pupils. “What is it?”
Michaela continues to whisper, a smile laced in her delivery now, “It’s a surprise. Choose your poison.”
Francesca considers seriously weighing her options until she decides the safest choice. “The bed is good.”
“Perfect. Come.” Michaela straightens her back and reaches for Francesca’s hand, hoping to lead her. Of course, Francesca obliges, heat growing between her legs in anticipation.
They walk from the living room, into the hallway, and into Michaela’s master bedroom. Michaela sits Fran on the bed against her headboard, and kisses her feather light before stepping back.
Michaela decides to make her watch her getting undressed. She starts by removing her jewelry, first her bangles, then her gold necklace and earrings. Then she removes her dress, stockings, and underwear, casual as if she’s preparing for a shower. Francesca lays back, her eyes scanning Michaela’s gorgeous body. Her favorite feature right now are her stretch marks, creeping up her hips and across her thighs so beautifully.
She walks to Francesca and straddles her, her bare thighs locking in Francesca’s clothed legs. Francesca falls back slightly as Michaela locks her lips in a kiss. This kiss is more passionate for the first. It’s sloppy, uncoordinated, and wet. At last, Michaela finally displays the hunger Francesca’s been fighting all night.
She pulls away to finish undressing Francesca, starting with her half-buttoned blouse and her bra underneath. Francesca can’t help but to moan at Michaela’s hand over her breasts, teasing her nipples.
“Michaela, please.”
“Wait,” the other woman replies, kissing her way down Francesca’s torso, sliding her body back to regain access to the floor. Once she’s standing, she pulls off Francesca’s mini skirt, disregarding her button and zipper. Her panties are the last item of clothing to go.
Michaela reaches over into her bedside drawer, grabbing something Francesca can’t see before climbing back onto the bed. She leans down and gives Francesca a kiss to the chest before revealing her surprise.
“Sit up, hun. I have a surprise for you.”
Francesca sits up like instructed, only to be met by a duel-ended dildo of some sort. One end is a bit shorter than the other but it doesn’t take long for Francesca to figure how it’s supposed to be used. She looks back up at her girlfriend, who’s waiting for a verbal response.
“Is this okay?”
Francesca nods firmly between her gulps. “Yes.”
The truth is that Francesca is more than okay. The idea of being inside Michaela while experiencing her own stimulation drives her crazy.
Michaela moves closer for another kiss. “Such a good girl for me.” She brings her hand to Francesca’s lips again, only to slip her index and pointer fingers inside. Francesca loves this part, the feeling of Michaela in her mouth. Sucking her fingers, getting them wet with her tongue, has become her second nature.
Michaela withdraws her fingers from Francesca’s pretty lips, a thin line of spit being the only connection to the two. “Lie back down”, she demands. Once Francesca returns to her former position, Michaela has another order. “Open,” she says, referring to Francesca’s legs, one hand already on Francesca’s thigh. Francesca does what she’s told, spreading her legs apart, knees to the ceiling.
“Fuck,” Francesca moans. Michaela’s fingers are on her vulva, moving between her lips. She’s already so audibly wet and she’s barely been touched.
Michaela looks down at the mess she’s making, a goddess admiring her own creation. She slips a finger in, slowly moving in and out.
Francesca wriggles around like she did at Michaela’s work dinner and in the car. She needs more than what Michaela’s giving her. “More,” she whimpers, “please.”
Her girlfriend laughs at her, her finger still going to work. “I just started, love.” Despite her jests, Michaela gives in, adding the second finger to the mix. “How’s that?”
Francesca’s brain doesn’t cooperate with her. Words are hard but making noises comes easy to her. She gives Michaela another moan.
Michaela curls her fingers in Francesca, moving deeper and at a faster pace. “I need words.”
The girl underneath her curses under her breath. “Fuck, Michaela, it feels so good.” She’s rewarded with a kiss from above before Michaela pulls her fingers out and returns them to her mouth.
Francesca feels like a rabid animal when she tastes herself in her mouth. Michaela’s looking at her so proud as she moves her fingers in and out from between Francesca’s lips. Eventually, she does pull out again, turning to grab the strapless strap-on. Francesca feels herself getting embarrassingly wet at the sight.
Michaela hovers over Francesca once more, the taller woman’s legs still open and receiving. She teases Francesca, rubbing the shorter end of the dildo around her clit. Francesca’s hips twitch in response.
“Michaela….” Francesca slurs.
“Say please.”
Francesca begs like she’ll die without the stimulation. “Please, Michaela, fuck. I need you.”
Michaela still has a devilish smile plastered on her face. She gets so much pleasure from playing with Francesca after her bratty moods. Francesca fears and craves what Michaela says next, the unpredictability exciting her.
Michaela pushes in with ease, looking down as the dildo disappears in Francesca. “Look at you, I didn’t even need lube. So wet and eager for me.”
Francesca throws one of her arms over her face to hide her reaction from Michaela. She feels like a bomb ready to explode.
She eventually removes her arm when she feels the weight in the bed shift. Michaela’s still hovering over her but now she’s back to straddling. She sinks down on the other end of the strap on, peering into Francesca’s soul the entire time. When she’s finally seated, her thighs against Francesca’s, she lets out a moan of her own.
Francesca so badly wants to move but she knows better. She waits for Michaela to make the first move.
Michaela’s first move is to wrap Francesca in her arms, their chests and lips touching. The only thing Francesca’s senses are aware of is Michaela, which was all she wanted earlier. The weight of Michaela on top of her grounds her, preventing her from feeling foreign in her own body.
“Are you going to fuck me, Fran?” Michaela asks in a low voice, her mouth still on Francesca’s. When Francesca moans in response, Michaela feels the vibrations on her lips.
Francesca doesn’t respond verbally, instead she fucks the strap into Michaela. She starts off slow, wanting to warm Michaela up while preserving her own stamina.
That only lasted so long though. Michaela’s getting wetter by the second and Francesca doesn’t want to let her down. Michaela keeps her arms by Francesca’s side as Francesca fucks into her.
Francesca can feel the mess Michaela’s making on her thighs. When she looks up, Michaela’s eyes are shut tight, her lips parted as she breathes with an open mouth.
“Fuck,” she mutters in between thrusts. Francesca moves her neck up to trap Michaela’s mouth in a kiss and Michaela meets her.
She moves back, placing her hands on Francesca’s chest, then grinding down on the strap. She rides Francesca as Francesca fucks her, creating the most obscene noises. Francesca is suddenly grateful that her girlfriend lives in a standalone house instead of an apartment.
“I think you can do a little bit more after that stunt you pulled today. What do you think?” Michaela challenges. She keeps her hands on Francesca’s breasts, toying with her nipples. Her face is flushed with a deep red undertone and she keeps closing her eyes. She’s close to her orgasm and wants Francesca to finish her off, but has a bossy way of showing it—Francesca wouldn’t have it any other way.
She’s so close to finishing herself but she does her best to hold it, waiting for Michaela’s instructions. “Fuck, I think I can do more. I can do more,” Francesca babbles. Her arms are wrapped around Michaela’s backside for more support as she thrusts up harder. The harder she goes into Michaela, the more she feels in herself.
It’s getting harder to stay upright and Michaela forfeits, dropping back down on top of her girlfriend, their breasts together once more. She plants kisses on the side of Francesca’s face as she does the dirty work. “My favorite girl, you’re doing so good, fuck.”
Francesca is below her, melting into every kiss, every praise. Her facial redness has spread down her neck, creeping down her chest. Her breathing at this point is reminiscent of a puppy panting.
Michaela continues to sprinkle small kisses across her face, her lips dragging across. “Are you going to make me come?”
“Fuck, yes, I’ll do anything,” Francesca whines. She gives Michaela her all, using all of her energy, to make her girlfriend come on top of her. Her thrusts are less coordinated than before but Michaela meets her halfway.
“Francesca, I’m gonna come,” Michaela warns. Her own voice is a whine as she orgasms, lips pressed against Francesca’s neck.
Francesca isn’t far behind her with her orgasm, letting herself come once she’s certain Michaela is already there. The sensation feels like lightning across her body, and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her head.
When Michaela comes down, she starts laughing, still fighting for air. She prepares to get up but Francesca pulls her back down, still craving the pressure from Michaela’s body.
“Can we stay like this for a while?” Francesca asks. She looks so high, wearing a smile of her own. The strapless strapon is still in them both but Francesca can’t find a reason to care. It’s a level of intimacy they haven’t achieved yet, and she craves it badly.
Michaela plants a little kiss on the top of Francesca’s forehead. “Of course, love. Anything for you.”
Francesca feels like she could die right now and everything will be okay.
—
Michaela doesn’t let Francesca do much after they’re done in bed. In the shower, she does most of the work, scrubbing Francesca’s back and washing her hair. She even massages lotion carefully into her back and her legs. Michaela dresses the other woman in her pajamas that she keeps over for visits, and makes sure that she’s properly hydrated and fed.
Most importantly, Michaela spearheads their post-coital debrief. Going to bed with a clear head is essential, especially for Francesca after a day so chaotic.
“How are you doing, hun?” Michaela asks, her voice soft and gentle. “I know today was a lot.”
Francesca is lying on her lap as Michaela sits against her headboard. An old British drama plays on her TV in the distance. “I feel good. Better than earlier. Being outside was just hard today.” She turns her head up to look at her girlfriend. “Thank you, Michaela. I love you and I’m sorry.”
Michaela moves a strand of Francesca’s brown hair out of her face, looking down at her like she held the secret to eternal life.
“I love you so much. You don’t need to apologize, just…”, she hesitates. “Just try to talk to me as soon as you feel uncomfortable. Okay? I don’t care about leaving early if it means you’re content.”
Francesca nods and responds, “Yes. I’ll try.” She turns her head back towards the TV, letting her fingers trace circles in Michaela’s skin.
The truth is that Francesca will try.
However, if misbehaving allows her to get her world rocked like she did tonight, well, she’d have to weigh her options.