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TITLE: College Confidential
WRITER: Laragh
CHAPTER RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: Willow, Tara and any other characters from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer franchise belong to Joss Whedon, FOX, ME and a whole host of other entities, none of which are me.
SUMMARY: The first part of the prequel to
Hacker Confidential and
Family Confidential - the college years!
SPOILERS: Perhaps minor references to the show or stealage of dialogue, but nothing that would spoil the series.
FEEDBACK: Yes please
Chapter 100 
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Willow’s glassy eyes were fixed on a particular spot on the ceiling as she lay as sprawled as she could be on the small bed.
The blanket was strewn over her legs and chest, which was still heaving slightly from the moments-previous exertions of the coital kind.
Her vision was hazy, with just blasts of intermittent light between heavy blinks.
“I’m seeing stars.”
Tara, to allow for Willow’s sprawling, had made herself as small as possible on the edge of the bed. She moved her arm up and behind Willow's shoulders for a little extra wiggle room.
“You should get that checked out. It’s still day light.”
Willow giggled and strained her head back to decipher the colour of the sky through the window.
“Barely. What time is it even?”
“Evening,” Tara guessed with an unconcerned shrug, “Here, come closer, I’m falling out.”
Willow turned more on her side, half draped across Tara. Tara’s hands instantly migrated towards Willow’s ass and Willow knew she’d chosen the right option with her excessive lotioning earlier.
“How come you like my butt so much?” she asked, while her head was propped on one of Tara’s breasts and a hand fondled the other.
Tara looked down pointedly.
“How come you like my boobs?”
Willow’s hand paused mid-squeeze, then she left it to rest on top and nodded.
“So what Saturday night routine am I disturbing?”
Tara kissed the top of Willow’s head.
“You’re not disturbing anything.”
Willow turned more on her stomach to face Tara properly.
“Seriously, what do you like to do?”
Tara shrugged one shoulder.
“We’ll, I’m usually in this park doing art until afternoon, then come home, get a call in with you while I’m getting changed and we get some dinner and go to the club.”
“‘The Club’,” Willow replied with an unconvincing chuckle, “With the pretty girls…”
Tara reached up and brushed some hair gently from Willow’s face.
“I have an idea. What if we find you something of mine that fits and I’ll take you to the club. You’ll see exactly what it’s all about and why you have no reason to be worried.”
“I know I have no reason, because I trust you,” Willow replied immediately, though her curiosity was piqued, “But, I guess, maybe, for an hour or two…is it far?”
Tara shook her head.
“Not at all. You won’t see any main sights of the city, but at least you’ll see a little bit of my neighbourhood. And there’s a whole strip of restaurants we can grab a bite in.”
Willow considered it for a moment.
“Will your friend be coming?” she asked, disdain in her voice.
“No, I texted her and said I was busy so she’s probably gone off to do her own thing,” Tara answered but noticed the look didn’t change much on Willow’s face, “Hey, I didn’t like Becky much when we first met…remember when she got you drunk and left you to wander home alone?”
Willow rested her chin on Tara's shoulder sheepishly.
“You guys are bosom buddies now. Okay, I’ll stop being grumpy. What can I wear?”
Tara sat up and swung her legs off the closet side of the bed. She slid the door across and started looking through and tossing things onto the bed.
Willow looked through a few pieces, but didn’t recognise them. Everything was a lot plainer, sleeker and smarter than anything she’d seen Tara wear before.
“Are these new?”
Tara nodded, hanging the clothes back up she knew wouldn’t fit.
“My long skirts and mismatched shirts didn’t really cut the mustard in the fashion capital of the world.”
“Isn’t Paris crazy expensive?” Willow asked, having never seen Tara buy more than the odd shirt that wasn’t from a thrift shop.
“They’re not designer or anything,” Tara replied before adding on casually, “I’ve been selling my art.”
“You have?” Willow asked in surprise.
“Yeah, that’s why I go to that artist’s park at the weekends,” Tara explained with a soft, fond smile, “There’s a bunch of us and people come up for portraits and requests and stuff. A few euros here and there but sometimes you get the hipster interior designers looking around. I sold a drawing of an old train station for three hundred euros once. It’s framed in a restaurant.”
“That’s amazing!” Willow exclaimed, rubbing Tara’s arm with both hands, “I told you a year ago you should be doing that!”
Tara shrugged one shoulder.
“I never thought about it as much more than a hobby before coming here.”
Willow smiled softly, utterly delighted that Tara was appreciating her own talents the way she always had. Tara’s words about not accepting the love she deserved suddenly hit home and swallowed a deep lump.
She squeezed Tara’s arm and leaned over to kiss her cheek.
“Well I think that’s awesome.”
Tara returned a cheek kiss, then suddenly turned back to the closet.
“Wait, I know!” she said, looking through a few bundles of clothes again before finally taking out a black blouse with shirt sleeves and collar, “This is one of the first things I bought but I forgot the sizing is different over here so it’s too small.”
Willow held it up in front of her and nodded.
“Nice. Smart.”
“You should be able to wear a skirt and belt too,” Tara continued, handing her a black knee-length pencil skirt and a skinny black belt, “Less baggy than pants. I think you can get away with your own bra.”
“I’ll have to, no way I’ll fit in yours!” Willow replied.
She pulled on the skirt whilst lying down and tied the button. It wasn’t as form-fitting as it would be on Tara, but it fit and she was able to tailor it a bit better with the belt.
Willow struggled to dress properly on the bed, while Tara stood in the floor space to change, used to the cramped conditions. She had on a sleeveless blue blouse with a very deep V extending almost to her bellybutton, so she had a black tank top on underneath to prevent overexposure. Her skirt was the same as Willow’s, as she’d bought a couple of the same style when she found them comfortable and fashionable enough to wear out. Her nails were already French-tipped and she picked a silver and blue elastic belt to finish the piece.
Willow was busy struggling to pull up a pair of Tara’s panties under her skirt to notice Tara’s complete ensemble for a moment or two, but her eyes bugged out of her head as soon as she did.
“Holy shit.”
Tara was mussing up her hair in the mirror and turned to check out how her skirt was fitting.
“You can’t see my bra straps can you?”
When she got no answer, she turned to face Willow.
“Willow?”
“Huh?” Willow asked, barely snapping to attention.
“Can you see my bra straps?” Tara repeated.
“Um, no,” Willow replied, swallowing to regain some moisture.
Tara was already applying some make-up in the small desk mirror and accidentally stabbed herself in the eye with her eyeliner.
“Shit. Could you grab me a tissue?”
“Sure!” Willow replied eagerly, jumping up and running to the bathroom.
Tara started to call back that there was a box on the bookshelf but Willow was gone. Tara did her other eye while she waited and fixed the other when Willow returned with a wad of toilet roll as big as the lampshade.
Willow watched, fascinated, as Tara changed her look so drastically to how she presented herself at home. Her eyes were heavy with the liner and smoky for an overall sultry and dramatic look and her lips were a pale pink, subtly complimenting the eyes.
Tara was quite modest with make-up normally and the striking look drew the eye in and kept it captivated.
Humble Tara or Hot Tara, Willow didn’t care, but it was exciting to witness the transformation, and she knew it would be just as exciting to be part of the de-transformation later on.
“I’m, um, guessing I can’t wear my sneakers,” she said, glancing over to her well-worn shoes.
“Good call. We wear the same size,” Tara replied, showing Willow where her shoes were lined up, “Flats or heels?”
“Flats,” Willow answered definitively, then looked at Tara quizzically, “You wear heels now?”
“Apparently,” Tara replied with a soft smile, just as she was slipping on a pair of silver stilettos.
Willow picked out a pair of white flats that she figured were a safe bet, even though a pair of rainbow ones were screaming out at her. She put them on and stood up to fit them properly to her feet, but was taken aback by Tara towering over her with the heels on.
“Whoa.”
“Want me to do your make-up?” Tara asked, wiping a make-up brush against the back of her hand.
“Sure,” Willow agreed, sitting down in the desk chair when offered, “You’ve really changed your look.”
“When in Rome…” Tara replied absently as she lightly applied some blush, “Or Paris, as the case may be.”
She was lighter on the liner than her own eyes, but still fairly heavy-handed with it and the mascara. She added some light plum-coloured eyeshadow, then made Willow pout her lips and applied some cherry-red lipstick.
She dabbed lightly at Willow’s mouth and smiled.
“There you go.”
Tara often did Willow’s make-up for her, and Willow loved how pretty she made her look. As she picked up the small mirror to check herself out, she saw that Tara had used her newly-attained fashion knowledge to make her up in the same striking way she'd made herself up.
She did a double-take, not used to seeing herself so stunning.
“I’m hot!”
Tara leaned over Willow from behind and kissed her cheek.
“I know you are.”
“No, I mean…” Willow stumbled, trying to explain without sounding cocky, “Okay, yes to you, but in the traditional ‘hot girl’ sense, me, not so much. But… I’m hot! We’re hot!”
Tara leaned her head in against Willow’s.
“I think you look just as beautiful as every day at home.”
Willow smiled, feeling her heart melt. She knew Tara meant every word of that and she the same of Tara, even if the newness of their ‘hot’ look was making her a bit giddy in that moment.
Tara looked every bit as beautiful on a Sunday morning with no make-up and bed head than she did in the on-point look she’d adopted for the City of Lights, and Willow loved that she got to experience every variant Tara had to offer.
“And so do you.”
She stood up and found that she quite enjoyed having to look up to see Tara’s face and to step on her tiptoes to offer a kiss.
“You’re sending all kinds of crazy feelings between my heart and my belly and somewhere lower tonight.”
“I’m interested in this somewhere lower…” Tara replied with a sultry grin.
Willow traced the deep V of Tara’s blouse.
“It’s polite to take a lady out to dinner first…”
Tara offered her arm.
“Then please allow me the great honour, my lady.”
Willow linked her arm in Tara’s and felt quite suave as they stepped out together.
It was dark but the moon was full and the street lamps were illuminating the streets as they walked. Willow paid a little bit more attention to the architecture than she had on the way in, admiring the balconied buildings and small windows, as well as having fun working out what the street signs meant.
She was listening to Tara point out little side streets and establishments, but there was so much in the urban area that she was a little bit behind in keeping up. After a moment, she realised they’d stopped and that Tara was looking at her expectantly.
“Hmm?” she asked, looking from side to side.
“Are you okay with Lebanese?” Tara asked, indicating to the restaurant they were standing in front of.
Willow looked up and noticed they were outside a restaurant.
“Oh, sure,” she nodded, “Yeah, you said it was the best place around.”
She followed Tara inside, and though the décor was a bit tired and mismatched with older furniture and newer interiors, the smells were amazing and the place was obviously well-liked seeing as it was close to full. The space in the middle was set out with cushions as seats for people to eat on the floor, which was already full. Tables were set out in an L shape around the front window and far wall and were all new, coloured black with white table settings so they blended in without clashing.
A young, dark man came over and kissed both of Tara’s cheeks with a flourish, conversed with her for a few seconds, then gave Willow a friendly smile and brought them over to a small two-seater table right in front of the large window.
He went to pull out their chairs, but Tara got to Willow’s first and he politely stepped back and pulled Tara’s out for her. He then offered them menus, said something to Tara, who nodded, and left.
Willow watched him go, then looked to Tara.
“French kissing the waiters huh?”
“I think that’s slightly misleading,” Tara replied with a softly sloped grin.
Willow smiled sheepishly and picked up her menu. She realised pretty quick that it was all in French, but Tara stepped in before she even had to ask.
“Do you want to just get a mezze and try a few things to start? I highly recommend the tagine too.”
Willow put the menu down and nodded.
“I was going to ask you what to get anyway, so yeah, that sounds great. Anything is good.”
The waiter came back again with a round plate of flatbreads with a bowl of hummus in the middle and placed it between them. He and Tara conversed again, then Tara looked to Willow.
“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez boire?”
Willow blinked, then found herself blushing under both of their expectant gazes.
“Um, in American? I mean English?”
Tara laughed at herself and reached over to squeeze Willow’s arm apologetically.
“What would you like to drink?”
“Um, lemonade?” Willow asked, looking for confirmation that that was available.
“Un citron pressé, s'il vous plait,” Tara said to the waiter, then indicated for Willow to try the hummus.
The waiter returned with a glass of red wine, which he set in front of Tara, then placed an oblong plate with a carafe of water, small bowl of sugar and tall glass with ice and an inch of lemon juice in the bottom. There was a silver spoon lying across the plate for stirring.
“It’s a sort of a DIY lemonade,” Tara explained when she saw the confused look on Willow’s face, “I thought you might enjoy it.”
Willow’s eyes lit up as she understood, eyeing the different elements.
“Cool!” she said, picking up the spoon with a smile, “I tried making lemonade when I was a kid but I just got in trouble.”
She tried to get some sugar in the glass but just ended up spilling it everywhere, very reminiscent of her very first attempts at beverage making. She blushed as she wiped it up with her napkin.
“I’m sorry, I should be acting cooler.”
“You should be acting like yourself, just as you are,” Tara replied lovingly, then reached for Willow’s hand across the table, “Did I make you feel like you’re not good enough with the get-up and everything? It’s just how things are here.”
Willow squeezed Tara’s hand and shook her head.
“No, you made me feel the opposite of that.”
“Good,” Tara replied with a tender smile, then turned her attention to the window and back to Willow, “I just realised we should swap seats.”
“Oh,” Willow replied, confused but going along with it as Tara stood and came over.
She took Tara’s seat and resettled her napkin without much inkling as to why the swap had occurred, until she glanced out the window.
“Oh, hey! Cool!”
From the cross section of the side-streets she was looking down outside the window, the top three quarters of the Eiffel Tower was visible in the distance, lit up in the night sky.
“It’s pretty, huh?” Tara commented, watching Willow watch the site.
“Yeah, it is,” Willow agreed, then gazed for another moment before looking back at Tara, “You’ve visited already, haven’t you?”
Tara nodded.
“I’ve gone up a few times.”
“What’s it like?” Willow asked, hoping Tara didn’t have the same disappointment she’d felt when she’d climbed The Empire State Building when she was 17 and found it less than awe-inspiring.
Tara was quiet for a moment, then smiled.
“Nice place to think.”
Willow was happy to hear that and took another admiring look out the window. She figured it was the nicest location in the whole restaurant, even with the apparent popularity of the floor seating. They were tucked away, weren’t sharing leg or arm space with anyone but each other, and they had a lovely view.
She turned to Tara with a grin.
“How long have you been flirting with the waiter to get us this table with no reservation?”
Tara held up one hand.
“I never flirted.”
“You don’t need to looking like that,” Willow said back, smirking over her hands which her chin was resting on.
Tara smiled, her own special mixture of bashful and sensual.
“It’s a shame all the floor space was taken up.”
Willow looked over to the people sitting on the ground, with little envy.
“I don’t think these skirts were made for crossed-legged sitting.”
Tara shrugged one shoulder.
“It rides up a bit, but it’s not uncomfortable.”
“Ah, so you show off a lot of thigh in this place,” Willow replied with a twinkle in her eye, “Everything is starting to make sense.”
Tara just smiled that same smile again, which Willow found much too alluring to simply sit still on the spot, so she busied herself with making up her lemonade. It was a lot different to the lemonade she was used to, but she kind of enjoyed the sourness and how it felt on her tongue.
A huge mezze plate arrived with all kinds of salads; dips; stuffed grape leaves for dipping; even more flatbread; meats; cheeses and savoury pastries. Tara named everything for Willow and suggested what to dip where, then started to do it for her; reaching across to offer it on her fingers.
Willow returned the gesture and noticed Tara was completely unselfconscious feeding and being fed. She was even making a point to lick Willow’s fingers while biting down as if they were the only two there and not in a packed restaurant.
She was happy to see that being in Paris had brought her girlfriend out in herself and given her the opportunity to make friends outside of their coupledom. She hated every second they were apart, but could see it had meant a lot for Tara’s personal growth and confidence and that eased the heartache a bit, or at least would when she had to leave again. There could be no heartbreak when Tara was licking her fingers the way she was.
She was pretty full by the time they polished off the mezze, but her hunger reignited when a tagine pot was brought and the coned lid was lifted, sending sweet steam up her nose.
“Is this rice?” she asked, pointing to the soft mix on top of the meats and vegetables.
“Couscous,” Tara replied, slipping her fork under some and offering it to Willow.
Willow tried it and didn’t hate it; the consistency was different, but it had absorbed the other flavours well and was nice in the mouth when mixed with a piece of lamb and one of the toasted almonds.
She enjoyed continuing the communal theme of their meal, sharing the pot and each other’s forks every so often.
Just as they were finishing up, the music seemed to get a little louder, and three belly dancers in full dress appeared at the other end of the restaurant. There were some cheers, then the ladies began their dance around the room.
It was all very civilised from what Willow could see; no one was trying to touch or grab the dancers and there was an appreciation the customer’s eyes that was hung up on more than their bodies.
She saw the same look in Tara’s eyes, artist’s eyes, and realised that Tara saw the world in the same way she saw Tara; beauty in every way it moved.
She smiled and fell a little bit more in love with her girlfriend. She found herself swaying slightly on the spot to the beat and one of the dancers was attracted over to them. Willow giggled as some fabric brushed past her face and blushed when two heaving breasts were shaken in her face.
She saw Tara grinning which just made her redder and the dancer moved on to the next table. Willow smiled at her own silly reaction and reached across the table to take Tara’s hands.
“So this is what your world is like,” she said, turning Tara’s palms over and drawing circles, “I only knew our world.”
Tara played with Willow’s fingers.
“Our world is my favourite place there is.”
Willow just smiled.
“Show me more of yours.”
Tara returned the smile and looked over to the waiter to indicate for the check. She reached for her purse and put her hand over Willow’s.
“I got it.”
Tara paid with cash and Willow didn’t object; mostly because she’d brought nothing but her own person with her. She was a little bit embarrassed, as the principal treater in the relationship, but reminded herself she was in Tara’s world for the night and would do as Tara said.
“Thanks, baby. It was really delicious. We should try Lebanese more at home.”
“Yeah, you’ve suggested it once or twice, but we’ve always gone with something else,” Tara replied, unwrapping a mint that came back with her change, “Ready to go?”
Willow nodded and stood up, grabbing the other mint and following Tara, who kissed their waiter on both cheeks on the way out.
“Au revoir, merci!”
Willow made a motion as if to say ‘same’, then stepped outside with Tara.
“Jeez, it’s cold. Is this club far?”
“No, two blocks and around the corner,” Tara replied, taking Willow’s hand and rubbing it between hers to warm her, “You’ll hear the music in another couple of feet.”
Sure enough, after a few steps, loud music started to fill the streets and neon lights flashed once they turned that corner. There was a twenty-person line waiting outside the door, but Tara walked them right in with a smile from the bouncer as he stepped aside.
Willow felt extraordinarily cool as they brushed past the people waiting in the cold, through a tight hallway and coat check into the main bar area. The place was filled with trendy youths sipping on cocktails on white leather couches with all kinds of LED low lighting on the walls. House music was playing and making the walls hum.
Willow found the attack on the senses dizzying, but in a way she found quite intoxicating. Tara pointed her to an empty two-person L shaped couch in the corner and sauntered off to the bar. Willow went and sat down, for the first time ever feeling unselfconscious and like she fit in in a place like that.
She noticed Tara coming back from the bar with two cocktail glasses with a red liquid inside. She also noticed she wasn’t the only one looking.
Tara came and sat down, handing off one of the glasses.
“Oh, I’m still not drinking,” Willow said, taking it all the same.
“I know, it’s virgin,” Tara replied sweetly, over the music, with one hand on Willow’s thigh, “It’s a berry cooler, they’re really popular.”
Willow smiled and took a sip.
“Oh, thanks.”
Tara sat back into the sofa with one arm draped across the top and her legs crossed invitingly at the knee.
Willow spent a while watching her; the gentle flicks of her hair, the long, slow sips of her drink, the way she bared her throat as she swallowed. It was evocative and Willow didn’t think it was unintentional.
“You like it.”
“What?” Tara asked, smiling at Willow in that special way that really was just for her.
Willow was momentarily distracted by it, but stayed on point and shuffled closer.
“The attention.”
Tara shifted on the spot and took another long sip.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Willow surprised herself by not being in the least bit jealous. Tara was with her and only had eyes for her, even if she enjoyed bringing others eyes onto to herself. People could look all they wanted, but she was Tara’s and Tara was hers. That was the most evocative experience of the entire evening and Willow had no problem showing it off.
“It’s okay. It’s nice to be noticed,” she said, putting a hand on Tara’s thigh and rubbing it up and down, “That girl over there can’t keep her eyes off you.”
Tara cast a cursory glance to the corner where a tall, leggy brunette tipped her drink in their direction. Tara barely noticed her for a second, however, as she felt Willow’s lips press into her neck.
“What are you doing?”
Willow felt on top of the world to be Tara’s main focus and was totally turned on.
“Like you said, we all have our moments. I’m having a confident one.”
Tara didn’t give a damn who or what else was in the room. It
was nice to be noticed, and she had been taught a lesson or two in the art of alluring in her time in Paris, but it had been nothing but games until Willow arrived and suddenly the erotic feelings on her end were very real.
She didn’t protest for a second when Willow kissed her, with tongue, despite it being the most graphic PDA they’d ever engaged in. They made out in the corner, forgetting about everyone but each other until they were getting too hot and bothered, even in the showing off kind of mood they were in.
Willow necked her drink, so Tara followed suit and was then pulled up and across the bar and back out to the hallway. Willow ducked behind Tara, who had no idea what was going on, but was caught up in the heat of it all.
“Distract her,” Willow whispered, referring to the coat check woman.
“What?” Tara murmured, while smiling politely at the woman.
“Tell her there’s a bunch of coats dumped outside the door,” Willow whispered back.
Tara communicated the message as smoothly as possible to the woman, who looked at them strangely, then went outside the door to check. Willow grabbed her moment and tugged Tara first behind the desk, then around the curtain to the backroom, where there were rails of jackets and various boxes against the back wall.
Willow brought Tara behind all the rails and pushed her up against some of the boxes. Tara’s heart was racing; she wouldn’t trade a second of Willow’s gaze on hers for hours of a million others.
Willow scraped her teeth against Tara’s neck and gnawed gently on her tender skin for a moment. She ran a hand down Tara’s chest and stomach, then slid under her skirt. When Tara didn’t stop her, Willow dropped to her knees and yanked her girlfriend’s panties down, then twirled them on her finger.
“I see Paris, I see France, I see Tara’s underpants…”
She grabbed the other side and sling-shot them across the room.
Tara’s eyes followed their flight in shock, then snapped back to Willow, who had taken Tara’s foot on her shoulder and was kissing along the edges of skin peeking out from the stiletto.
Willow continued kissing right up to Tara’s knee, where she released Tara’s leg, stood back up and encouraged Tara’s hips up onto the nearest box.
Tara didn’t fight it.
“What are you doing?” she asked, heart pounding in her throat.
“What you want me to do,” Willow replied, eyes both daring and asking for permission.
Tara wasn’t thinking cohesively at all, but she did know she didn’t want to stop. She leaned back, hiked up her skirt and held Willow’s head in place as it bobbed between her legs moments later.
She tried to keep as still as possible, unsure what was in the boxes holding her weight, but arousal was spinning fast around her and her hips were responding to Willow’s mouth of their own accord.
The rush of excitement was dizzying and she could feel the knot already tightening in her stomach. She could hear her blood pumping and heart hammering but couldn’t hear her own moans as they got louder when she started to orgasm.
It came hard and fast, slamming into her like a sucker punch of pleasure to her belly.
Willow was close to coming herself, her body humming with Tara’s taste on her lips. She was about to launch a second round of tongue when she heard the rustling of the curtain.
“Bonjour?”
She stilled and glanced up to see Tara frozen in terror too. There was some movement of the rails behind them, then silence and tugging of the curtain again.
With adrenaline roaring through her veins, Willow spotted the fire door, grabbed Tara’s hand and ran them out and around the nearest corner. They stopped to catch their breath three blocks away, where Willow slumped into Tara with laughter, pushing her up against the wall.
The laughter was infectious and Tara too was giggling as she tugged on her skirt, then suddenly realised there was nothing on underneath.
“My panties!”
Willow lifted her head with her flushed cheeks.
“Did they have your name on them?”
Tara smiled again and shook her head.
“Not since I was ten.”
“I had them ‘til I was 19,” Willow admitted with a further blush.
“Did you still have them when we met?” Tara asked, lifting an eyebrow playfully.
“Not once I started letting you see me in them, that’s for sure,” Willow replied with an adorable smile that made Tara melt.
Willow met Tara’s eyes as her chin was lifted with one finger and their lips met softly. Kissing under the streetlight in Paris was one of the most romantic things she’d ever experienced, so much so she even felt her foot pop up behind her.
They could have been kissing for minutes or hours, Willow didn’t know, but she savoured every second of it until Tara broke the kiss to grab her hand. They ran home and Willow felt almost high, lost in a blur of Tara.
Before she knew it, she was on the bed and Tara’s skin was gliding against hers.
When did we take our clothes off?She felt drunk with desire and Tara apparently noticed, because she stopped what she was doing and touched Willow’s cheek.
“Are you okay?”
The lack of Tara’s touch sobered Willow up immediately. She rested her hands on the back of Tara’s neck and pulled her close.
“Please don’t stop.”
Tara moved her forehead onto Willow’s and sensuously slid her hands down her girlfriend’s sides. She curved her hands over Willow’s hips, then hiked Willow’s knees over her waist and leaned her lower body in at an angle so their lips slid together.
Willow thrust herself up to meet Tara and slid her hands into her girlfriend’s hair, clinging to her with palpable need.
Tara dropped her head to Willow’s chest, kissing her breasts and tonguing her nipples into stiff peaks. Willow moaned uncontrollably; sounds rising from the back of her throat as deep pleasure sprung around her body.
Tara’s mouth was hot and wet on her chest and imitating the lower caress, driving Willow wild. The way Tara’s body moved with hers was so spine-tingling erotic that she barely felt in control of herself.
Willow’s body was a soft, safe haven for Tara, where she just wanted to sink into and stay forever. She dragged her lips up to the tender skin of Willow’s neck and felt the beat of her pulse. She wanted, needed, to feel it deeper, so her hand slid down Willow’s body as if it was silk and entered her, slickly and fully.
Willow’s neck arched back against the pillow and she grabbed Tara’s cheeks to kiss. Her wrist slid past Tara’s and her fingers dipped into her girlfriend’s wetness, warming them with her arousal. She found Tara’s clit and began to rub her fingers over it, soft but fast and matching the rhythm inside her.
“Willow…” Tara groaned into Willow’s kiss, their lips humming together with a harmonised moan.
Their bodies bumped and grinded together, creating a thick, sticky air above and around them. Willow loved it, and the feeling of Tara’s weight on her; being pressed into the bed and thrust into so deeply. Tara was everywhere all at once and she couldn’t get enough.
Tara was feeling much the same way, lost in everything Willow and all of its sweetness. Her lips were back in Willow’s neck and she could taste her saltiness from the sweat they were producing and sliding against each other.
She nipped at the sensitive spot of skin where Willow’s neck met her shoulder and immediately felt a clench around her fingers. She brought a palm to Willow’s breast and fondled there at the same time. Willow was coming undone in seconds and turning her head to scream into the pillow.
Tara was right on the edge as well and it only took her seconds more to follow, using Willow’s neck as her muffler.
They laid in that position, with Tara strewn on top of Willow, catching their breath together. Both were quietly enjoying the slowing of their heartbeats and each other’s embrace until Tara’s lips pressed against the hollow of Willow’s throat.
“I had the best night.”
“Since you got here?” Willow asked, delighted considering all of the tales Tara had told her.
Tara moved her cheek against Willow’s shoulder and curled the ends of her girlfriend’s hair around her fingers.
“Since ever.”
Willow smiled softly at Tara, though inside was jumping for joy. The quiet moment was too special to be broken so she just continued to gaze lovingly into Tara’s eyes. They shared some kisses and squeezes but Willow was caught up in the look in Tara’s eyes and how wonderful it made her feel without even knowing why.
“What are you thinking?”
Tara was contemplative for a few moments, then spent a moment drawing the features of Willow’s face with her finger.
“Claude Monet was pretty much the founder of French impressionism. His muse was his mistress Camille. He made dozens of paintings of her, right up until her death and even beyond in different forms. Her beauty to him inspired an entire movement that changed the entire way people think about art, even still today,” she spoke, soft and reverent, “You’re that for me. You give my life meaning. You give my life colour. I can see the beauty of the world because you allow me to experience the beauty of your love. It makes me feel like I could change the world.”
Willow opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again, thinking she didn’t have the words. After a moment though, she realise she only needed three.
“I love you.”
Tara turned her nose into Willow’s neck and inhaled softly for a moment, then lifted the sheet up over their heads so they were cocooned in blankets. She rested her forehead on Willow’s and kissed her softly.
“And I love you.”
She twined both sets of fingers and lifted Willow’s arms either side of her head, elbows bent. Then, circling each palm with three fingers, she kissed from wrist to wrist, bridging across Willow’s throat.
She made a return journey and stopped off to leave a tender love bite on Willow’s neck. When the mark was coming up nicely, she tongued the spot gently and up to Willow’s ear.
“Will you do me a favour?” she whispered, kissing Willow’s lobe.
“You know there’s nothing I won’t say yes to when you’re naked on top of me,” Willow replied, arms still strewn above her head as she abandoned herself to Tara’s touch.
Tara smiled against Willow’s skin.
“I just want you to mail my internship application for the state agency when you get home. It’ll be cheaper and less chance of it getting lost. I have to have it in by next week.”
“Oh yeah, sure. No problem,” Willow said with a small bat of her hand, “I thought you were going to ask me something kinky.”
Tara smirked.
“Well who knows what I might ask later…”
Willow grinned, then chuckled and finally stretched out with a satisfied sigh.
“Hey, I have something for you.”
She ducked under the sheet and moved around so her head was at the end and she could pull her bag across the floor to root through. Only a moment passed before Tara was joining her in her upside down adventures.
“I would have only been gone five seconds,” Willow said with a soft smile.
“Too long,” Tara replied, kissing Willow’s shoulder, “Missed you.”
Willow unzipped the front pouch and began looking among her few packed items.
“I liked sleeping upside down when I was a kid, in my rare bouts of rebellion.”
Tara’s lips pressed into Willow’s neck again, drawn to her like a magnet.
“I love a bad girl.”
Willow blushed and smiled, then produced a flat, gold rectangle box with a white bow on top that had gotten slightly squished. Willow tried to liven it up a bit, then handed it over sheepishly.
“Happy anniversary.”
Tara took it and held it in her hands while pressing repeated kisses against Willow’s cheek.
“You are as sweet as sweet can be. As if you coming all this way and the flowers weren't enough.”
She lifted the lid and sitting inside on some white foam, was a gold heart shaped locket on a gold chain. She turned it in her hand and saw ‘Love, W’ on the back, making her smile. She then popped it open and noticed there was a picture either side.
Her eye was drawn to the one on the left first, which was the face of her mother in one of the few photos she had of her.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Willow said when she saw her staring, “I made sure the original got back to its safe space.”
Tara was too choked up to speak, so just shook her head. She blinked away a tear so Willow wouldn’t get the wrong idea, then glanced at the other side and laughed at the photo while tracing the outline.
Willow smiled nervously at the picture of herself.
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous, but…”
“You can absolutely be presumptuous,” Tara replied, putting her arm around Willow’s shoulders and leaning in to kiss her, “
You are my heart.”
She let the kiss linger, then smiled back at the photo.
“I love this picture of you.”
Willow’s nose scrunched.
“Yeah, I know…but I don’t know why. I think I look goofy.”
Tara continued to gaze at it affectionately.
“You just laughed at one of my bad jokes and had this adorable little smile…” she said as she leaned her head in onto Willow’s shoulder, “Like I said, there’s something tiny waiting for you at home…I’ll bring you a proper present when I’m coming back.”
“You treated me to dinner,” Willow replied, then had her fingers dance along Tara’s spine, “And dessert…”
Tara giggled and Willow smiled at the joyful sound, while continuing to rub Tara’s back.
“I’m serious though, don’t get me anything. You finally have some money to spoil yourself with and I want you to enjoy every penny. I’ll be mad if you get me something.”
“Okay, okay, I don’t want to argue,” Tara replied and held up the necklace to her neck, “Put it on me?”
Willow took the chain and hooked it around her neck. She encouraged Tara onto her back and watched the locket fall above her breasts.
Tara’s breath quickened as Willow’s mouth followed the frame of the chain from under-ear to under-ear. She lifted Willow’s chin to kiss her, then rolled on top with her hands on Willow’s breasts.
“How about some seconds of that dessert?”
Willow’s head tilted back over the end of the bed and eyes fluttered closed as her skin became familiar with Tara’s lips again.
“Yes…ma’am…”
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