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Mel wakes up in Trinity's bed.
Trinity. Trin. That's what she’d told Mel to call her, after You Oughta Know, when Mel had said, “That was fun. Thank you, Dr. Santos,” and Trinity had looked at her the way Mel is so used to being looked at — like she's so weird — and then her eyes had softened and she’d said, “It's Trinity. Trin, if you want. That's what Huckleberry calls me.”
She's still asleep, curled up on her side, facing towards Mel who's lying on her back. Mel turns her head on the pillow to look at her. She looks strangely young when she's sleeping, the set of her mouth soft and unguarded. Her hands are curled loosely in front of her face, the fingers of her right hand almost touching the end of Mel's braid where it's hanging off the pillow.
It's Trinity who'd redone her braid. Mel had kept her hair loose in the bar and during the drive to Trinity's place, but she cannot possibly sleep with her hair undone. It makes her antsy, how it tickles against her neck and shoulders, its relentless rustling against the pillow. And then there's the sharp pain of brushing out the tangles the next morning. It's just — no.
So after she'd used Trinity's shower, Mel had asked Trinity if she had a spare hair tie — the one Trinity had taken out of her braid had gotten irretrievably lost behind the karaoke stage — and Trinity had sat her down on the edge of her bed and rebraided her hair, her fingers gentle and efficient.
They'd kissed some more, after. They'd been kissing since the last hour at the bar. Trinity had looked so pretty, with her hair undone and her shoulder bare and her cheeks flushed from the scream-singing and the alcohol, and Mel had been unable to stop staring at her.
Trinity had noticed, of course. She'd given Mel a defensive look.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Because you're very pretty,” Mel had answered.
She's never known how to flirt, but she has learned that people's perception of her makes it easy for them to react to her sincerity as if it is a joke, if they want to. It doesn't make rejection any less disappointing, but it does make it less awkward.
Trinity hadn't reacted as if it was a joke.
“Yeah?” she'd asked, her chin jutting out in challenge, her eyes full of some other emotion Mel couldn't identify.
“Yes,” Mel had answered, simply.
“You want to do something about it?” Trinity had asked, and Mel had nodded and leaned in to kiss her.
She hadn't kissed anyone since college, so she's sure it hadn't been very good, at first — stiff and too dry, and Trinity had probably been able to taste the overthinking on her. But she'd kissed Mel back anyway, one hand on her jaw, almost guiding her, and then it'd gotten wonderful, easy and tingly and lush.
So they'd kept kissing in the bar, and then Trinity had been drunk enough that Mel didn't feel okay letting her go home alone so she'd driven her back. They hadn't kissed anymore in the car, obviously, because Mel had been driving. Mel hadn't known what to do when they'd gotten to Trinity's place, after that break, but Trinity had told her to sleep over because it was already so late and then she'd redone Mel's braid and had kissed her again, so.
They hadn't done anything more than kissing — they'd both been too exhausted, and Trinity frankly too drunk, so they'd fallen asleep on each other while making out in Trinity's bed.
And now Mel is awake. And she has no idea what to expect once Trinity wakes up too.
She knows what she'd like. She wants to have sex with Trinity. Not just rationally, not just an awareness that it would be nice, but physically as well, warmth already curling in the pit of her stomach as she considers the possibility. She's always found Trinity pretty in the abstract, but she's usually too prickly to Mel, too hostile, almost, for Mel to be capable of experiencing any real attraction to her.
But last night, somewhere between the point where Trinity had told her to bring Becca to the bar and the point where she'd asked her if she liked Alanis Morissette, Mel had come to a realisation she probably should have reached months ago already. It's a defense mechanism, for Trinity. Not one Mel really understands, but she does understand being really bad at connecting with people in a way that makes sense to them.
With that realisation, Trinity's attempts at connection had started to make sense to Mel. And Mel’s abstract attraction to her had turned very real, very quickly.
Which doesn't mean Trinity wants to have sex with her, of course. It would probably be a disappointment to her, anyway. Mel knows Trinity has been sleeping with García, who seems suave and experienced and capable in a way Mel doesn't think she'd be able to achieve even if she had sex every day for thirty years. And she emphatically hasn't been doing that. Her window of sexual experience had been very, very short — it had started when she was twenty, in her junior year of college, and ended the year after, when her mom had gotten sick and there had simply been no time or energy left for anything else than college and caretaking. So she has only ever been with one person, a tentative girlfriend who'd asked Mel out in her cellular development class, and it's been over six years. She clearly doesn't have much to offer.
That doesn't mean she doesn't want to, though. If Becca is having sex despite everything, then why is Mel depriving herself? Especially when Trinity is laying next to her after they spent most of last night making out.
“What are you thinking so hard about?” Trinity's sleep-rough voice interrupts her thought spiral.
She's looking at Mel through her eyelashes, her eyelids barely parted. No wonder Mel didn't realise she'd woken up.
“Uh — you,” Mel answers.
“Yeah?” Trinity asks. She looks strangely tense. “Having regrets?”
Well. Mel really misunderstood Trin's whole deal.
“No,” she says. And then she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second, gathering her courage. She hums on the exhale and adds, “The opposite, actually.”
Trinity's eyes fly open, and she props herself up on one elbow, staring intently at Mel.
“Yeah? You liked it?”
Mel nods.
“You wanna do it again?” Trinity asks.
Mel nods again, and breathes in again — classy, bougie, ratchet — before saying, “I want to do more, maybe. If you'd like to.”
A smile tugs at the corners of Trinity's lips. “You asking me to fuck, Mellifluous?”
Is she making fun of Mel's singing at karaoke?
Probably not the point.
“I — yes?” Mel replies. She turns on her side, looking Trinity in the eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. “Only if you're into that, of course!”
Trinity chuckles. “I am into that, Mel. Why else would I have spent all of last night making out with you.”
“Well, maybe you were only interested in kissing — ” Mel starts, and Trinity puts a hand on Mel's arm.
“Rhetorical question,” she says, not unkindly. “My point is, yes, I wanna fuck.”
Mel nods. Okay. Good to know.
There's one more thing that's bothering her, though.
“And — what about Dr. García?” she asks, looking away from Trinity again. “I mean, I know things like that can be casual, or open, or — I just don't want to cause trouble.”
“Yolanda can go fuck herself,” Trinity spits. There's familiar venom in her voice. Mel wonders how she never realised it comes out when Trinity feels wounded or scared.
“She's always made it very clear we were only ever friends with benefits,” Trinity continues. “And after yesterday, seems like even the ‘friends’ part is optional, so.”
“I'm sorry,” Mel says.
Trinity's mouth twists. “Doesn't matter. Anyway. Less whining, more fucking, don't you think?”
“Okay,” Mel says. Trinity would probably benefit from talking to someone about all her feelings, but it's already a miracle she's let Mel in as far as she has, so.
“How do you want to do this?” she asks Trinity. She makes as if to push her glasses up higher onto her nose, and then realises she's not wearing them. “What do you like?”
Trinity looks amused. “Why don't we pick things up where we left off last night, and then we can see where it goes, hm?”
Well. Mel is really not very good at playing this kind of thing by ear, but. She can come up with a plan and see if Trinity is into it when she puts it into practice.
“Okay.” She nods. “That sounds good.”
She really wants to go down on Trinity. She's been thinking about it since last night, when Trinity looked at her while they were singing that lyric and the image of it jolted through Mel's brain like an electric shock.
She'll see if Trinity is amenable.
Trinity pulls her in by the shoulder and Mel shifts closer, placing one hand on Trinity's jaw and pressing their lips together. She's always been a quick learner and it comes back easily, the knowledge of how Trinity likes to be kissed. She's a biter, nipping at Mel's lower lip from the get-go, sending sparks shooting down behind Mel's sternum. Mel licks into Trinity's mouth, just a flick of the tip of her tongue, and Trinity parts her lips easily to let Mel in, her exhale already sounding like a moan. Mel pushes her tongue deeper into Trinity's mouth and Trinity pulls her closer, her arm wrapping tight around Mel's shoulder. Mel sucks Trinity's lower lip between her own and Trinity does moan at that, quiet but unmistakable.
The sound goes straight to Mel's clit. God, it's so satisfying to touch someone and get a reaction that tells Mel they like it. She hadn't realised quite how badly she'd missed it.
She rolls over on top of Trinity, still kissing her, deeper now, both of her hands in Trinity's hair. Trinity's thighs fall open, making room for Mel's hips between them. Her fingers are digging into Mel's shoulderblades, her tongue gliding over Mel's, and Mel hums contentedly at the feeling, low in her throat.
She kisses the corner of Trinity's mouth and then lower, along her jaw and down to her neck. Mel sucks on the spot where Trinity's jaw meets her neck and Trinity actually gasps at that, open-mouthed and uninhibited, her hips shifting up against Mel's lower stomach.
God. Trinity likes that. Mel feels it in the pit of her stomach, the gusset of her sensible cotton panties growing slick.
“Can I leave marks?” she asks Trinity, looking up at her, and Trinity's eyes widen with surprise and what Mel is pretty sure is arousal.
“Fuck, yeah,” she replies. “I know how to use concealer, go for it.”
She's gratifyingly breathless. Mel grins into the crook of her shoulder before planting her teeth in the side of her neck, right above Trinity's collarbone, exactly in the spot she hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from last night, framed perfectly by Trinity's bare-shouldered top.
Trinity's loud gasp turns into a moan when Mel adds suction to the mix. Mel can feel the vibration of it travel through Trinity's throat, under her lips. Her hips push down into the mattress, unconsciously, seeking relief for the pleasure Trinity's reactions send surging through her body.
“Damn, Mel,” Trinity pants above her. “You're more enterprising than I'd expected.”
‘Than she'd expected.’ Trinity has thought about this before. The realisation makes Mel feel all giddy.
She pulls her mouth away from Trinity's neck, half reluctantly. There's a stark livid mark on Trinity's neck. That's going to take days to fade. The thought sends heat sparking down Mel's spine.
“I wouldn't have become a doctor if I didn't know how to be enterprising,” she tells Trinity.
Trinity huffs out a laugh. “Trust me, I'm not complaining.”
Truth be told, Mel had expected Trinity to take the lead more than she's doing. Then again, Dr. García doesn't strike Mel as someone who'd let anyone have their way with her. Maybe Mel just had the wrong idea about Trinity. Again. And Mel is also emphatically not complaining at how much Trinity seems to be into Mel doing things to her.
Mel trails her fingers down Trinity's side, coming to a halt at the hem of her pajama t-shirt.
“Can I take this off?” she asks.
“Were you planning on fucking me with my clothes on?” Trinity starts, and then, before Mel can respond, “Wait, no, I know that's possible. You can take off anything you want as long as I get to see you naked too.”
Mel grins up at her. It's nice that Trinity is starting to take her way of communicating into account.
She pushes Trinity's t-shirt up and over her head. Trinity helps her along, arching her back and lifting her head until she's left bare-chested under Mel's gaze. She has gorgeous breasts, not large but heavy-looking. Mel cups one of them in her hand, running her thumb over Trinity's nipple, and Trinity's breath hitches as she presses herself into Mel's touch
“Unfair,” she complains. “We had a deal.”
She tugs at the front of Mel's t-shirt — or, well, of Trinity's own t-shirt, which she lent Mel because she obviously hadn't packed pajamas.
Mel takes her hand away from Trinity's breast and pulls the t-shirt over her head.
Trinity just looks at her for a moment. Mel squirms under her gaze. She has absolutely no clue whether she can be considered objectively attractive, or even whether she's simply Trinity's type.
But then Trinity reaches out, caressing along Mel's stomach, up to her breasts.
“Looking good, Mel-icious,” she says, palming both of Mel's breasts.
“As in, delicious?” Mel asks, a bit breathless with Trinity's touch.
Trinity smirks and nods. “Uh-uh.”
Mel feels all giddy again. She didn't know Trinity did nice nicknames, let alone flirty ones.
She bends her head again, closing her lips around one of Trinity's nipples, and Trinity arches into her mouth, her hands trapped between their torsos, a loud gasp escaping from her mouth. Mel sucks, her fingers playing with Trinity's other nipple, until Trinity is honest-to-god squirming beneath her. Trinity frees her hands and grabs at the back of Mel's head, pulling her face into her breast, and Mel can barely breathe but she doesn't mind, she's very good at ignoring her bodily needs when she's chasing a goal.
She hooks her fingers into the waistband of Trinity's high-waisted pajama shorts and pulls them down. Her own hips between Trinity's thighs are stopping her from pulling them all the way off, so she kneels up to give herself more room, and Trinity takes advantage by tugging Mel's panties down. Some moderately dignified wiggling later, they're both completely naked, and Mel's mouth goes dry at the sight of Trinity underneath her.
She has a happy trail. Mel swallows heavily, unable to tear her eyes away from it. She's always found those so sexy on a woman, and deeply regrets that she herself is too blonde for hers to really show.
Trinity gets an almost concerned look in her eyes and her hands drift in front of her own body, as if she's about to cover herself.
Damn. That was not Mel's purpose.
“No, wait,” she says, and then she simply throws herself down between Trinity's thighs and presses her mouth against Trinity's happy trail.
“Jesus fuck, Mel,” Trinity swears, her hips rolling against Mel's upper chest.
“Is this okay?” Mel asks in half a mumble against Trinity's skin.
“Yeah, fuck, if you stop touching me I'm gonna kick you,” Trinity says.
“I'm not planning on stopping,” Mel answers, and she kisses down along Trinity's happy trail, to right above her pubic bone, and then along the crease of her hip, towards her left thigh.
There, Mel takes a beat, her lips still pressed against Trinity's skin. From this close, she sees something she'd missed before, without her glasses. There's a row of parallel horizontal scars on Trinity's upper thigh, unmistakable.
Mel really, really doesn't want to ruin the mood or upset Trinity. And Trinity is already tensing beneath her touch — she must have noticed Mel's pause.
Mel hums to herself, high in her throat, and then decides that best practices are best practices for a reason, and probably apply in bed as much as they do in a hospital room.
“Do you prefer I touch these or not?” she asks, trailing her fingers just above the row of scars.
Trinity looks down at her, frowning slightly. Did Mel upset her anyway?
But Trinity doesn't sound mad when she answers, Mel thinks. Just a bit guarded.
“Just — be normal about them,” she says. “No special attention, that's cringe, but you also don't need to avoid them.”
“Okay,” Mel says with a nod, and she puts her mouth back on Trinity's hipbone, right above the bush of her pubic hair. Her fingers fan out over Trinity's thighs, pushing them wider apart. She feels Trinity's raised scars under her right palm and just keeps it there, following Trinity's instructions. She kisses down into Trinity's pubic hair. It tickles her nose, her lips, but Mel doesn't mind. She's always dealt better with sensory input during sex, she remembers now, because her arousal distracts her. It's easier when she's doing things to her partner, too, because she can decide exactly which sensations she can handle.
She can smell Trinity, heady and musky and slightly metallic. She smells delicious, and Mel can feel herself getting wetter in response to it.
“Goddamn,” Trinity says above her, her voice slightly raspy. “Dr. King eats pussy.” She sounds almost awed.
Mel laughs into Trinity's crotch. “I mean, yeah? It's been a long time, so feel free to tell me if something isn't working, but I always really liked it.”
“Lucky girl, whoever that was. Or girls,” Trinity says, and then, “Lucky fucking me.”
Trinity's sarcastic tone is indistinguishable from her sincere tone, to Mel, but she doesn't think that was sarcasm. So she trails her mouth lower still and presses her lips right above Trinity's clit.
“Oh, fuck,” Trinity gasps, and that's incredibly encouraging, so Mel licks across Trinity's entrance, tasting her, tangy and sharp. She does it again, more insistently this time, and Trinity reacts beautifully to that, her hips surging against Mel's face, a harsh moan spilling from her lips, so Mel licks her again, and again, and Trinity keeps moaning like that, and Mel is tingling all over with it, with Trinity's taste in her mouth and the feel of her skin and the sounds she's making.
She licks back up to Trinity's clit, rubbing her tongue up and down over it, at first, then drawing tight circles around it, then flicking the tip of her tongue over it. Trinity reacts best to the circular motions, her moans deeper, more guttural, her thighs tensing under Mel's hands, so Mel goes back to that one and keeps at it, steady and insistent.
Trinity is so wet against her chin, and Mel wants to know how she feels inside, wants her slick around her fingers, so she pulls her mouth away from Trinity's clit to ask, “Do you like penetration?”
“Fuck, what are you doing, don't stop,” Trinity protests, her hands scrabbling over the back of Mel's head. “I do, I like it, now put your mouth back on me — ”
Mel obeys, going back to drawing circles around Trinity's clit with her tongue, and Trinity's protestations get cut off, resolving into a gasping moan. Mel takes her right hand off Trinity's thigh and traces her middle finger over her entrance, slick and easy. She pushes in, gentle and steady. Trinity is so warm around her, so wet and plush and soft. Mel feels like she's burning up with it, heat smouldering in the pit of her stomach, tingling down her thighs.
“More,” Trinity demands, pushing her hips up into Mel's face, “give me more, come on, I'm not delicate.”
Mel adds her ring finger, the slide of it smooth, barely any resistance. God, Trinity is so wet. It's absurdly arousing. Trinity groans low in her throat as both of Mel's fingers push into her, and Mel moves them back and forth a few times before muscle memory kicks in and she curls them, a bit searchingly, trying out different spots inside Trinity.
She's in a bit past her second knuckles when Trinity lets out a sound that Mel can only describe as a whine — which, wow — and Mel knows she's found the right spot. She keeps at it, dragging the pads of her fingers right there inside Trinity, her tongue still circling Trinity's clit. This is what she loves about — well — about fucking someone. It's all about figuring out what works in that moment and then applying it, sticking with it, focused and meticulous, and letting yourself enjoy it.
Trinity's moans are growing louder, her thigh tensing under Mel's hand. She's clenching regularly around Mel's fingers, and Mel's head goes kind of buzzy with it, with the realisation that she's going to make Trinity come.
“Come here,” Trinity gasps, grabbing at Mel's hand on her thigh, “give me your hand,” and Mel puts her hand in Trinity's. Trinity places it flat on her own stomach, right above her pubic bone, pushing down on Mel's fingers with her own. Mel gets the message, pressing down against Trinity's lower stomach, curling her fingers inside her slightly harder, and Trinity makes a noise Mel hasn't heard yet, a broken half-moan half-gasp that sends a lightning-bolt of pleasure shooting down to Mel's clit. God, that's a neat trick. Mel carefully files it away inside her brain.
Trinity clenches harder around Mel's fingers, her thighs squeezing tight around Mel's head, the rocking of her hips smearing wetness across Mel's face, and then Trinity's back arches off the bed and she moans repeatedly, long and drawn-out in the back of her throat. Mel's blood is rushing in her ears with the intensity of it, of watching and hearing and feeling and making Trinity come.
When Trinity's body relaxes, Mel takes her mouth off her clit and smiles up at her.
“Can you usually orgasm more than once in quick succession?” she asks Trinity.
“I — what? Why?” Trinity stutters, looking a little bewildered as she stares down at Mel.
“Because I enjoyed that a lot,” Mel clarifies, “and I'd really like to do it again.”
“Fucking hell,” Trinity groans, letting her head fall back onto her pillow. “You don't do things by halves, do you?”
Mel shakes her head. “Why would I?”
Trinity snorts. “Fair.”
And then she rolls her hips down onto Mel's fingers, still inside her, and adds, “Yeah, sure, go ahead. There's no way I'm saying no to a second orgasm.”
Mel grins and puts her mouth back on Trinity's clit, licking at it more softly, almost languidly. Trinity's hands are in Mel's hair, and then there's a gentle tug at the end of her braid and Trinity's fingers are carding through her hair as it comes loose, falling all around Mel's face, onto Trinity's thighs.
“Do you like my hair?” Mel asks, pulling away just enough to speak. A pretty clear pattern has been emerging since last night.
Trinity hums affirmatively. “It's very pretty,” she says, playing with a strand of it. “And mostly I like that you never take it down at work but you let me see you like this.”
There's something there, something related to the insights Mel has been having since last night, about Trinity and vulnerability and reciprocity, but Mel is frankly way too turned on to dwell on it any further at the moment.
She applies herself to licking Trinity's clit instead. Unfortunately, her own hair quickly gets into her mouth, strands of it sticking to her sticky cheeks. It's distracting, and not in a good way.
She pulls back again and looks up at Trinity, who looks back at her questioningly.
“I'm eating my own hair,” Mel tells her. “Could you hold it out of the way for me?”
“Whoops, sorry, should have thought of that,” Trinity answers.
She gathers Mel's hair with both hands and holds it in one loose fist, away from Mel's face.
“Better?” she asks.
“Much, thank you,” Mel answers. “Just — be careful not to pull it?”
“Pain not your thing, huh?” Trinity laughs. “‘Course, I won't.”
Mel bends her head again — it really is much better like this — and goes back to circling her tongue around Trinity's clit. She curls her fingers inside Trinity, revelling in the feeling of how much wetter she is now that she's come already, gorgeously slick against Mel's skin. Mel starts out gentle, trying to build Trinity's pleasure back up steadily, but Trinity must be more sensitive than she'd expected because she rocks her hips faster than the rhythm of Mel's fingers, encouraging her to quicken her pace. So Mel does, and Trinity grunts above her, heady and satisfied. Mel also speeds up the circling of her tongue a little, trying to match the rhythm Trinity seems to want, and Trinity twitches under her tongue. The feeling of it makes Mel clench hard around nothing, wetness dripping down into her own pubic hair.
“Can you — oh, fuck — can you suck my clit a little?” Trinity asks breathlessly.
Mel hums affirmatively, sealing her lips around Trinity's clit, and Trinity's fingers spasm in Mel's hair, not enough to pull but enough to let Mel know that her control is slipping a little, that she's probably close again.
Mel sucks at Trinity's clit insistently, the rhythm of it almost pulsing, her fingers still curling hard inside Trinity. Trinity clenches tightly around her, deep, harsh moans spilling from her lips, and then she shouts as her entire body goes taut, her hips pressed so close to Mel's face that Mel is momentarily, gorgeously smothered in her. She comes hard and long and loud, and Mel's blood is fizzing in her veins with it, her own inner thighs slick with how turned on she is.
“Fu-uck,” Trinity sighs blissfully when she comes down. “Oh my God.”
Mel feels very self-satisfied that she's reduced Trinity Santos to relative speechlessness.
Trinity releases her hold on Mel's hair, and it tumbles back down onto her shoulders, half across her face.
“Okay,” Trinity says, shaking her head as if she's trying to get her bearings. “Your turn. What do you like? Want me to return the favor?”
Mel feels heat rise in her cheeks as she slips her fingers out of Trinity. She's very grateful her hair is hiding part of her face.
“I — um,” she says. She's not sure whether she wants to admit this to Trinity, worried she'll find Mel even weirder than she already does. But Trinity has just let her in more than Mel ever thought she would, so she should probably honor that.
“I don't reach orgasm very easily, honestly,” she says, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the inside of her palm, one after the other. “The most reliable way is if I — um — if I hump something.”
Her cheeks are burning. She must be beet red.
But Trinity seems utterly unfazed.
“That can be arranged,” she says, and she flips over onto her stomach, somehow not kicking Mel in the face as she does. She has an amount of control over her body that Mel can only dream of.
Trinity looks back at Mel over her own shoulder. Her hair has fallen fetchingly to the side, uncovering the side of her neck. Mel's eyes follow the line of it down to her strong shoulders, to the sinuous line of her spine, to the mouthwatering twin dimples on each side of it, right above the swell of her ass.
Trinity reaches one hand behind her and pats her asscheek invitingly.
“I've got a hump you can hump,” she says, her voice teasing but somehow still sultry. “Tribbing with Trin.”
And Mel doesn't know that word, she'll have to look it up later, but she can't bring herself to care right now because she doesn't need it to understand exactly what Trinity is offering and —
“Oh, fuck,” she gasps, her voice strangled with arousal.
“Did you just swear?” Trinity exclaims, her eyes wide with delighted surprise. “Did I just turn you on so much you swore? I really hope you don't mind Huckleberry knowing we fucked because I'm gonna need to brag to him about making you swear.”
“I mean, sure, if he's not going to be weird about it,” Mel manages through the haze of arousal she's floating in. It's the second time in less than twenty-four hours that someone is surprised at her swearing. Mel has to admit she has a strong preference for the current scenario.
“Nah, he'd never, that boy is rolling with the LGBT,” Trinity assures her.
“I know that one!” Mel blurts out. “Cupcakke, right?”
“Right on,” Trinity laughs. “Anyway. I don't know what possessed me to bring up Huckleberry during sex,” she adds with a grimace. “Come here. I want to feel you getting yourself off on me.”
There is no way on earth Mel can resist that.
She lowers herself onto Trinity's prone body, aligning her hips with Trinity's toned, round ass. She braces herself on her elbows, her head hovering next to Trinity's, her mouth right next to Trinity's ear, her hair cascading down over the back of Trinity's neck and down onto the mattress, like a curtain that blocks the two of them out from the outside world.
“Come on, Mel, move,” Trinity tells her, and Mel does, shifting her hips and dragging her clit over the firm curve of Trinity's ass. It's electric, pleasure sparking up to Mel's sternum and all the way down her thighs. She moves again, and again, Trinity pressing her ass back against her, and each thrust spreads wetness over Trinity's skin, until the drag of Mel's clit against her is slick and frictionless.
“You're so wet,” Trinity says, her voice low and so deliciously dirty that Mel moans with it, strangled and high-pitched.
“I can feel you getting it all over me, fuck,” Trinity continues. “All that from eating my pussy?”
“It was — ah — it was really, really enjoyable,” Mel pants into Trinity's ear.
It's true. It turns out Mel gets closer to orgasm much faster than she's used to when she's just spent half an hour giving head. She can still taste Trinity on her lips, on her tongue, heady and delicious. Pleasure arcs down Mel's spine with each thrust of her hips against Trinity's ass, short, deep grunts spilling from her lips.
Trinity is making noise too, underneath Mel — open-mouthed, sighing moans, her breath hot across Mel's face, Mel's hair fluttering with it. She's still pressing her ass back into Mel's hips and — oh — she's not doing this just to help Mel come, she's enjoying it, she's aroused by it, even after having already had two orgasms.
Mel suddenly, desperately, wants to feel her come a third time.
She rearranges herself slightly across Trinity's back, putting more of her weight onto Trinity, no longer bracing herself on her elbows, instead pushing her right hand underneath Trinity's hips. She's thankful she has long fingers, because the pads of them just reach Trinity's clit. She presses them against her, artlessly, just giving Trinity something to rock into, and Trinity does, thrusting backwards against Mel's hips and then forward into her fingers. The slickness of her against Mel's fingertips only turns Mel on more, bright heat suffusing her entire body.
Mel rubs her fingers over Trinity's clit, a counterpoint to the rhythm of her hips against Trinity's ass, and Trinity gasps with it, gorgeous and breathless.
“Fuck, keep doing that,” she tells Mel, and Mel does, because what else would she want to do. She's so incredibly turned on, getting wetter with each of her thrusts against Trinity's ass. She's making noises that she's not entirely sure are attractive, breathless, gasping grunts, but she's frankly too aroused to care and Trinity very much doesn't seem to mind, if the increasingly jerky movements of her hips are anything to go by.
“Oh, God,” Trinity moans, “oh, fuck — ” and then her body goes rigid beneath Mel's and she gets wetter still against Mel's fingers as moans spill from her lips, so delightfully loud this close to Mel's ear. Mel's head spins with it, her entire body suffused with blinding heat, and as Trinity unspools around a deep, blissful sigh, Mel's pleasure peaks like a cresting wave and then breaks, hitting her all at once. She clenches hard and repeatedly, wetness spilling out of her and onto her thighs, onto Trinity's ass. Her hips are thrusting wildly against Trinity, a hoarse, drawn-out groan torn from her throat.
“Fuck, yeah, come for me,” Trinity pants, “that's so hot — ” and Mel gasps helplessly into her ear, her fingers twitching unintentionally right above Trinity's clit, her own clit still rubbing up against the soft, slick skin of Trinity's ass.
She comes down slowly, gradually, the rhythm of her hips slowing, her breath evening out. Her entire body feels boneless, thoroughly sated, loose warmth radiating into the very tips of her fingers and toes.
She rolls off Trinity — she's probably squishing her — but she stays very close, laying sprawled out on her back next to her, her cheek almost against Trinity's mouth, her hair fanned out over the mattress and half onto Trinity's face.
“You liked that a lot,” Trinity says into her ear, sounding deeply smug.
“Uh-uh.” Mel nods enthusiastically, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“So did I,” Trinity says, throwing an arm over Mel's waist. “You're a surprisingly good lay, Mel-” — she pauses — “ugh, my brain is still too offline to come up with a good pun.”
"'Surprisingly?'" Mel asks, turning her head to look at Trinity. “I don't know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”
“Oh, definitely a compliment,” Trinity tells her, her fingers tracing over Mel's ribs. “That was hot as fuck. Next time we're getting you a strap and you're fucking me with it in that exact position again. I've got one with a textured base, I'm sure that'll work for you.”
“That's — a dildo?” Mel asks.
Trinity chuckles. “Yes, Mel, a dildo.”
“I've never used one before,” Mel says, “but I do think I'd like it.”
The idea of it, of Trinity underneath her again, of Mel thrusting not just against her but into her, sends indolent heat curling down into the pit of Mel's stomach.
“First time for everything,” Trinity says, “and you're good at everything, so.”
Mel blushes. She doesn't understand how Trinity can say that after having heard her at karaoke last night, but she's not about to protest.
“You want there to be a next time?” she asks, just to be sure, because maybe Trinity's musings are more of a post-orgasm fantasy than a real offer.
“I mean, we had fun, didn't we?” Trinity says. Her voice sounds guarded again, Mel thinks. “But it's whatever, it's fine if you don't want to, obviously — ”
Mel lays her hand over Trinity's where it's resting against Mel's side and gives it a squeeze.
“I want to, Trin,” she says. “That was great, why would I not want to do it again?”
A barely suppressed smile plays around the corners of Trinity's mouth.
“That's right, I'm an excellent fuck.”
Mel nods. “You really are.”
Trinity rolls onto her back, her arms crossed behind her head.
“Do you need to get back to Becca?” she asks.
Mel shakes her head, her hair rustling against the bedsheets.
“No,” she says. “She's probably still with Adam, she can call me when she's done. She'll remember how to use a phone if she needs something from me.”
Trinity whistles between her teeth. “Damn, Becca catching strays.”
Mel sighs deeply, and Trinity pats her thigh consolingly.
“Wanna order breakfast?” Trinity asks, turning her head to look at Mel. “We can delay your walk of shame a bit.”
“It'd be a drive of shame, technically,” Mel points out. “But that term still doesn't fit, because I really don't see why I'd be ashamed of having had sex with you.”
Trinity snorts. “You're sweet, Mel-content.”
“I'm very content, actually,” Mel tells her.
Trinity rolls her eyes, but the set of her mouth seems almost fond. “Yes, that was the pun.”
“I see,” Mel says, grinning at Trinity. “Double meaning, very advanced.”
Trinity snorts, and Mel laughs with her, feeling languid and loose and blissfully, uncomplicatedly cheerful.