And a water scene to come...God, I better have an extra pack stashed away for that one.
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Love will find a way.
by jessan15 » Thu Mar 14, 2002 8:39 pm
And a water scene to come...God, I better have an extra pack stashed away for that one.
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Love will find a way.
by Pixie » Thu Mar 14, 2002 9:31 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Owl:
Tommo, and other fabulously naughty kitties:It has occured to me, in reading this fic, and all of the responses that my love life has been, in the past, shockingly uncreative, and unresourceful. gonna have to change that... just as soon as i get me a girl... hm. hum de dum.
Ah. Rosenberg household? Footsteps on the stairs? Bad, Bad memories. The kind that are so bad, so very bad, that they're just funny now. It's a scary idea, but if anyone can make it work.... it would have to be Ruth, the queen of smut.
Landscape... yes, i'm still stuck on the jam tarts...
Speaking of jam tarts, I didn't say this before because I didn't want to bring up "Touchstone" too much (landscape and all) but, Ruth, can you incorporate food into some of these parts? You know, 'cause the jam tart worked SO well before.
Hey Owl, "just as soon as I get me a girl"? You don't have one? Woo hoo! I'm getting on a plane! *Pixie feverishly logs on to travelocity to check airfares and schedules*
quote:by tommo » Thu Mar 14, 2002 9:32 pm
------------------
You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
by Rally » Fri Mar 15, 2002 3:02 am
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No, please. I mean, tell me if I said something wrong otherwise I know I'll say it again. Probably often and in public.
by Charlie » Fri Mar 15, 2002 4:16 am
quote:
Originally posted by wolflord:
I had to have a cigarette after reading part 2....and I dont even smoke.
Heh. Does that mean I can blame my complete and utter failure to give up on Ruth?
------------------
“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen
by Owl » Fri Mar 15, 2002 7:56 am
quote:
Originally posted by Pixie:
Hey Owl, "just as soon as I get me a girl"? You don't have one? Woo hoo! I'm getting on a plane! *Pixie feverishly logs on to travelocity to check airfares and schedules*
Well.... That problem is solved, then... I'm sure you'll enjoy the midwest, (the part of which i live in (ohio), incidentally, being actually the mideast, as anything east of Illinois really should be, in my humble opinion. This whole thing with having two midwests is really just absurd, and liable to start a war between corn farmers and potato farmers.)
Let's see... now what do we do until the next update from Tommo, then?
by tommo » Fri Mar 15, 2002 10:49 am
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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
by Thanatopsis » Fri Mar 15, 2002 10:56 am
quote:
Originally posted by Owl:
Well.... That problem is solved, then... I'm sure you'll enjoy the midwest, (the part of which i live in (ohio), incidentally, being actually the mideast, as anything east of Illinois really should be, in my humble opinion. This whole thing with having two midwests is really just absurd, and liable to start a war between corn farmers and potato farmers.)
Let's see... now what do we do until the next update from Tommo, then?
Ah, the eternal debate. Where does the midwest really end? Its like which came first, the chicken or the egg. Okay, not really, but it is one of those things talked over when drunk, like the odd weather and such. I would love to what a war between the corn farmers and the potato farmers would entail. What about all the dairy farmers? They have more artillery than either. Cow tossing is much more deadly than corn or potato tossing.
As for what we can do, until the great one graces us with more smut, hmmmm. Maybe read the main board. I go there this morning and see such threads as W/T naked sex, Screaming Orgasm Friday, wild place W/T could have sex, Rebecca Romijn-stamos experimenting with Lesbianism. Its a small fun filled romp. Apparently we're already suffering from no new episode syndrome.
------------------
Riley: We like the ceiling fan.
Willow: Yes! It's very...you know, kind of old south.
Buffy: But without the unpleasant slavery associations.
-The Replacement
[This message has been edited by Thanatopsis (edited March 15, 2002).]
quote:by The Sci-Fi Bard » Fri Mar 15, 2002 11:33 am
*pouts for England*
tommo!!!!!!! What did you have'ta go and write such a goddamned sexcellent fic for!!!!!!!???????
I couldn't stop reading the damn thing last night!!!!!!!! It's just totally fluffy brilliant!!!!!!!
*deep sigh*
And now I'm gonna have to give up writing W/T fics!!!!! Cause there is NOOOOOO way that I can get anywhere near YOUR tippety-top standard!!!!!!!
*grumbles about your immense talent (and no-doubt, beauty also)*
*affects Bill & Ted accent*
DUDE! You're like, TOTALLY the Missy Good of W/T fanfic!!!!!! WOAH!
THANK THE GODS you don't write poetry as well!!!!!
AT LEAST I'll have ONE trade left to fall back on now!!!!!!!
you.....er.....DON'T write poetry...DO YA? *whimpers*
multus amor
TSFB
'sassy Bard'
"God bless those Pagans!" - Homer Simpson
[This message has been edited by The Sci-Fi Bard (edited March 15, 2002).]
by Ressick » Fri Mar 15, 2002 1:49 pm
Errrr... tho, if Missy Good ever wrote plot-filled smut-fic like tommo, I'd keel over... between tommo and missy, I'd died of over-smut-plot-love-ness...
But yeah... SFB, don't give it up... if we all tried to measure up to tommo's sexcellent fics, she'd be the only one writing at all!!
Res, in deep awe of tommo...
by jessan15 » Fri Mar 15, 2002 3:35 pm
No...if we are going to pose a little Xena comparison...Three Words
AMAZON
ICE
COMPANY
tommo would be a charter member.
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Love will find a way.
by tommo » Fri Mar 15, 2002 3:47 pm
quote:
Originally posted by The Sci-Fi Bard:
*grumbles about your immense talent (and no-doubt, beauty also)*
Ah...the only things immense about me love, are my astounding tits. Sorry. No beauty.
quote:
you.....er.....DON'T write poetry...DO YA? *whimpers*
Actually I do, yeah. I just don't post any of it. Most of it I tend to force upon a rather unwilling Deb, who makes nice faces and tells me it's "lovely". Heh. You won't be seeing any poetry from me, not to worry. Your genre of choice is safe.
Um...who's Missy Good? Am I missing something important? Or do I just not have enough lesbo street cred?
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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
by Bobo's Mom » Fri Mar 15, 2002 3:55 pm
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
Um...who's Missy Good? Am I missing something important? Or do I just not have enough lesbo street cred?
Missy Good is a Xena fan fic writer. One of the best out there. Worth looking into if you're into X/G at all.
BM
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TARA: Willow and I always know how to find each other!
ANYA: With yoga?
****************
BUFFYBOT: That'll put marzipan in your pie plate, bingo!
by The Sci-Fi Bard » Fri Mar 15, 2002 3:56 pm
you CAN'T NOT KNOW who Missy Good is!!!!!!
YOU JUST CAN'T!!!!!!!! You just.....just......just!!!!!
Well, I'll tell you this much sweety.....
you're in SERIOUS danger of losing your membership card ANNNND your toaster oven!!!!
*weg*
TSFB
The only problem with the gene pool, is there's NO lifeguard!
"Life sucks and love is for fools!" - TSFB
"life is pain
death is release
and tears make both easier to bare." TSFB
by Kalita » Fri Mar 15, 2002 4:10 pm
Missy: Riveting plotlines and dramatic intrigue
Ruth: Riveting sex scenes and dramatic smut
But, both are very good. In their own way.
by tommo » Fri Mar 15, 2002 4:31 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Kalita:
No, I would not compare Ruth to Missy. Simply by their priorities:Missy: Riveting plotlines and dramatic intrigue
Ruth: Riveting sex scenes and dramatic smut
But, both are very good. In their own way.
Yeah, because you'll notice from my back catalogue of stories that I pay little or no attention to plotlines and intrigue whatsoever.
Thanks.
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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
by Sela » Fri Mar 15, 2002 5:12 pm
But really, you're a wonderful non-smutty writer. It's just that the world needs smut and you gladly provide it. And well,thanks!
--Sela
by MoMack » Fri Mar 15, 2002 5:23 pm
by WiccansIllusion » Fri Mar 15, 2002 5:31 pm
I think she's going to be at Bardcon in Chicago, maybe..
by Charlie » Fri Mar 15, 2002 6:09 pm
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
Yeah, because you'll notice from my back catalogue of stories that I pay little or no attention to plotlines and intrigue whatsoever.Thanks.
Ignore, hon. I don't just read for the smut anyway. Woman cannot live by smut alone and all that. You're a wonderful writer and I love your stuff... all of it.
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“You’re my wife now…” Papa Lazarou
-The League of Gentlemen
[This message has been edited by Charlie (edited March 15, 2002).]
quote:by LeatherQueen » Fri Mar 15, 2002 6:11 pm
quote:
Originally posted by Ressick:
Missy Good?! LOL Another pup here... Arrooooo!!
Wow! Pups all over this board.
So, if fans of Missy Good (Merwolf) are called Merpups, what would they call fans of Ruth?
I, for one, would call myself salivating.
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"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory
by tommo » Fri Mar 15, 2002 6:39 pm
quote:
Originally posted by LeatherQueen:
So, if fans of Missy Good (Merwolf) are called Merpups, what would they call fans of Ruth?
See xita's latest post. She's like, queen ho round these parts.
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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
by wolflord » Fri Mar 15, 2002 7:56 pm
by xita » Fri Mar 15, 2002 8:00 pm
And no one around here has a command of the English language like my Ruth does. I had the privilege of working with her and the speed and quality of her work is outstanding. It was a great push for me that and she managed to make my parts into something readable
And the smut, well that my friends.. pant...
[This message has been edited by xita (edited March 15, 2002).]
by Brynn » Fri Mar 15, 2002 8:03 pm
I am a smutten.
by LeatherQueen » Fri Mar 15, 2002 8:13 pm
You know,... that'd be a good name for a band.
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"Honey, I'm the original one-eyed chicklet in the kingdom of the blind." -Glory
by Kalita » Fri Mar 15, 2002 8:28 pm
quote:
Originally posted by tommo:
Yeah, because you'll notice from my back catalogue of stories that I pay little or no attention to plotlines and intrigue whatsoever.Thanks.
Was that sarcasm? (with Ruth, it's sometimes hard to tell...) If so, I didn't mean you have NO plot or intrigue, just that it's not the one and only focus of the story.
Just to clarify, if there were any doubts.
Must keep the writer happy... You still like me, right, Ruth?
quote:by rocketdyke » Fri Mar 15, 2002 9:29 pm
frankly i think ruth is totally a better writer than missy good. its like comparing rhubarb crumble to plain old apple pie.
michele
by Pixie » Fri Mar 15, 2002 10:49 pm
quote:
Originally posted by xita:
smuttensAnd no one around here has a command of the English language like my Ruth does.
Oh xita, lmao! Two months ago I never would have thought I would say this, but I am definitely a smutten! And to add my paltry 2 cents, Ruth uses language in such a vivid, lyrical fashion that I have found myself rereading parts (and no, not just the smutty parts) to savor her words. One of my favorite parts of fics (as I think I said somewhere on the "Touchstone" thread) is the development of characters and relationships. And Ruth has that hands down! Er, maybe, hands in lots of places!
by tommo » Fri Mar 15, 2002 10:50 pm
Enjoy.
Part 3 - The Locker Room
Running across the field outside the school, Cordelia had never felt so assured, so free, so powerful. Lifting her arms, she gave a kick into the air with her right leg, shaking her pom-poms at the same time. She cast a cursory glance to the cheerleaders around her, knowing with her usual spurt of confidence that they couldn’t hold a candle to her, Cordelia Chase, queen of the football field.
Lowering her leg to the ground, she yelled out the cheer that she and the squad had practiced for hours in the gym hall. Someone was off. Turning with a scowl she looked hard at Amber, who, in Cordelia’s eyes wasn’t the fluffiest pom-pom in the squad. The girl stumbled slightly, fumbling the turn and spin that ended the cheer and almost going over on her ankle.
With a toss of her hair, Cordelia marched over to where Amber half-knelt on the ground. Fixing her eyes on the auburn-haired cheerleader, Cordelia put her hands on her hips, which, given that she was grasping onto two pom-poms, was quite a feat in itself.
“You were late,” she said decisively. “You came in late, Amber.”
“I know, I – “ the girl winced as she pressed her fingers against the ankle, finding the weak spot that had let her down.
“Well if you know, then why didn’t you do something about it?” Cordelia sniffed. “You’re one step away from waving goodbye to cheerleading, Amber. Just remember,” she leaned in closer and her eyes turned cold, hardening to the shade of gunmetal, “I’m in charge now. You cross me, you cross everyone.”
Satisfied that her threat was sufficient enough to strike the fear of god into the girl, Cordelia spun round on her sneakered heel and marched off to rejoin the head of the line. Straightening up, she pushed back her shoulders and prepared to begin the cheer again, this time without any hold ups.
From their vantage point on the other side of the track, three girls watched the little scene play out with detached amusement. Buffy, Willow and Tara had been persuaded by Principal Snyder to encourage team spirit by trying out for the athletics teams this year. Well, Buffy folded her arms and looked at the coach, currently barking orders at a group of freshmen, perhaps encouraged wasn’t the right choice of words. Already in his bad books, he had bargained in his sinister manner to make it clear that trying out for the athletics team wasn’t so much a choice as her obligation. She hadn’t really had much of an option. And neither had Willow, Tara, Xander, or anyone else who knew her. Two hours of profuse apologies later, Buffy had been joined on the field by Willow and Tara, the two girls apparently joined at the hip these days.
I’m glad Will’s found a friend, Buffy thought, glancing to where the blonde stood uncomfortably dressed in shorts and a t-shirt emblazoned with the school name. Someone nice, someone normal. Someone who isn’t the Slayer. She had to admit, she was experiencing a touch of jealousy over the girl that Willow seemed to prefer spending time with. After two and half years, Buffy had come to depend on Willow, not only for friendship, but for support and love and all the things that best friends gave to one another unconditionally. She’d never been close to someone like that before, not even at her other school where she had been the queen of popularity. With Willow, Buffy always felt safe. She always felt like the redhead was in her corner. Even with the magic stuff.
Glancing at Willow, she noticed the girl engaged in a whispered conversation with Tara that was bringing a smile to the other girl’s mouth. Tara giggled, then pressed her lips together firmly as though ashamed of her own merriment. It failed to stop Willow though, who continued her monologue of mirth into Tara’s ear.
Yeah, Buffy shrugged, and couldn’t help smiling. It was good that Willow had someone normal to be friends with. The redhead had been dabbling into the black arts ever since the end of junior year, and was becoming quite proficient at spells, although her enthusiasm usually outweighed her success. But Willow had promised to work harder at learning, as was her way, and Buffy had been all the more grateful for it. Having a badass witch on her side was kind of impressive.
Tara’s laughter drew Buffy’s attention once more, and she inched closer to the two girls. She didn’t know Tara very well; for some reason she and Willow lunched alone a lot these days, but from what she did know, Tara seemed great. She was friendly and easy going and she’d even endured one of their celebrated nights out at the Bronze without running screaming for her sanity.
“Hey, what’s so funny?” she asked, watching as Willow spun round with a look of surprise on her face. Almost embarrassed to be interrupting what appeared to be a private moment, Buffy offered up a grin that was answered in similar fashion by Tara’s full mouth.
“Oh! Uh…” Willow frowned, two tiny lines appearing between her eyes. Her eyes flickered between Tara and Buffy, widening slightly in confusion and panic. “We were just…uh…talking about things. You know, like girls do. Well of course you do, because you’re a girl, and you talk about things that girls talk about and that’s okay. We’re all girls. Yep, all girls here!” she finished triumphantly.
A warm feeling flooded Tara’s chest as she listened to the torrent of words pour from Willow’s lips. She loved it when the other girl babbled. In fact, she hugged her arms against her chest, she loved it when Willow did anything. A Willow who breathed oxygen was adorable in her book. And that was a book that was rapidly growing, page after page being written day by day.
“You know Will, sometimes I worry about you,” a fond smile widened Buffy’s lips and she shook her head.
“And isn’t that what best friends are for?” Willow grinned in response and shoved her arm through Buffy’s, squeezing it against her.
“I don’t know,” Buffy saw the coach beckoning her and a look of desperation colored her face. “I think best friends are for tackling the coach when other, blonder best friends can’t.”
“Oh no,” Willow slid her arm away from Buffy’s and stepped back. “You take on Coach Rogers. He already tore out a piece of me when we tried track,” she rolled her eyes as she recalled how frustrated the coach had been with her, Tara and Buffy only minutes before. That was one of the reasons why they had retreated to a safe distance in the first place.
“I’ll stay here and be supporto gal from the sidelines,” she punched her fist in the air as Buffy let out a whimper of dismay. Ignoring the fierce glance she received from the Slayer, Willow gave a bright grin and waved as Buffy made her way over to where the coach was brandishing a javelin.
Turning back to Tara, Willow was aware of the other girl watching her very carefully, something akin to jealousy flashing through the blue in her eyes. Her own face dropping in alarm, Willow put out her hand and rested it on Tara’s forearm, huddled up against her chest.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
Tara nodded tightly. “Sure,” she answered, although her tone belied her true feelings. Closing her eyes momentarily, she turned her head and looked back at the group of chanting cheerleaders on the other side of the field.
“Tara…have I done something wrong?” Willow pressed, a strange squeezing sensation edging over her heart. Her chest felt tight and there was a lump in her throat. Silently she berated herself for ever upsetting the blonde. Of course, she wasn’t totally sure that she had upset Tara, but she was willing to accept the blame if that would make Tara look at her properly again.
Looking back to where Buffy was balancing the javelin above her shoulder, Tara frowned and swallowed. She took in the fine lines of the girl, the way she was deceptively athletic underneath her girlish figure. Buffy was really pretty. And she was Willow’s best friend. And she was really pretty. A deep sense of discomfort rose in Tara’s stomach, working its way up to her heart, where it settled in nicely for the duration. Oh god, she thought sadly, please no. Not Willow. Don’t let Willow feel that way.
Drawing back her arm, Buffy tensed the muscles and threw the javelin. It soared up from her open hand and made a perfect arc in the air, whizzing over the other javelins that were stuck into the ground below it. As it over reached the edge of the throwing field, Buffy screwed up her face and hardly dared look. Beyond the throwing field, a group of cheerleaders were scrambling onto one another to make a perfect pyramid.
Seconds later, the pyramid was scattered amid screams of horror as several cheerleaders ran for their lives in the onslaught of a javelin whistling in between them. As Amber barraged into Cordelia, the dark-haired cheerleader turned to fix Buffy with one of her death stares.
“Sorry!” Buffy shouted, but to no avail. Cordelia was already on her way over, pom-poms brushing briskly by her sides.
“She’s…B-Buffy’s really strong,” Tara commented, finally turning her gaze back to the redhead at her side.
“Well sure,” Willow shrugged, “of course she’s strong. She’s the Sl – “ She cut herself short and bit at her bottom lip, torn between wanting to tell Tara the truth and wanting to keep her best friend’s secret.
“She’s what?” Tara frowned, trying to make sense of Willow’s words.
Dropping her gaze down to her sneakers, Willow rubbed her right toe against her left instep. “Nothing,” she said.
I knew it, Tara drooped her shoulders dejectedly. Someone like Willow would want to be with someone like Buffy. Someone pretty. Not a stupid idiot like me who can’t even get a sentence out properly. Nodding, she let her chin rest onto her chest and let out a sigh. This time it had only taken her a month to get her heart broken. Wow, she congratulated herself grimly, breaking your own records already. Last time it was at least two months before you even got the guts up to talk to the other one. And look at you now, hanging on her every word and feeling like crap every time she doesn’t look at you.
“Tara?” Willow peered down and tried to meet eyes with the other girl. Grudgingly, a pair of blue pools swimmingly met her own and blinked under the green gaze directed her way. Willow’s face crinkled into a worried expression that Tara found truly adorable, although the emotion trickled through the cracks in her heart that were rapidly increasing every time she thought about Willow and Buffy.
“Tara, please…have I done something?” Willow asked forlornly. “Have I upset you?” She shifted her feet on the grass and swallowed down the tears that were pushing in the base of her throat. Panic was rising in her stomach, making it all acidy. She hated that. In fact, she hated the way she tended to destroy everything good in her life. And Tara, she had decided, was the best thing in her life right now.
“Um…” Tara squeezed her arms around her and shook her head. “I sh-sh-should um…” she looked over to where the coach was gesticulating wildly in between an irate Cordelia and a thoroughly sorry Buffy. “I should go and uh, you know, do some um…” she blinked rapidly and pressed her lips together for a second, “sports. Um, sports, yeah.” With a curt nod she dashed off across the field towards the coach, almost tripping twice, her legs flipping out at odd angles as she gave her best impression of running.
Willow Rosenberg, the redhead heard her mother’s best “lecture” voice in her head, how on earth you plan on having productive relationships with people when you can’t help tearing down those walls of trust everywhere you go… Willow gazed after the bumbling figure of Tara with teary eyes. I messed up, she thought, her brain doing enough flip flops to match the nausea rising in her stomach. I messed up and now she’s running away from me and I’m so stupid and I don’t even know what she thinks anymore! She let out a whimper of frustration and hopped from one foot to the other agitatedly.
Maybe if I go and explain. In front of everyone. She sighed deeply and shook her head. As much as she didn’t want Tara mad at her anymore, she still wasn’t sure if she wanted everyone to know about the two of them. I should explain. Unconsciously twisting her hands against one another, she frowned. Explain what? I don’t even know what I did wrong. Even if I did anything wrong. Oh god, she’s mad at me and I don’t even know if it’s my fault. And if it is my fault, then I don’t even know why!
The panic increased.
“Hey, what’s going on?” a familiar voice jerked her out of her guilt-ridden thoughts and she turned to see a rather sweaty Xander standing behind her. He nodded his head towards the melee around the coach, into which an unwitting Tara had now been pulled.
“Uh, Buffy tried to spear the cheerleaders,” Willow explained dolefully.
Xander adopted his trademark grin, not without some lecherous glee at the sight of several well-toned cheerleaders now jogging slowly over to where Cordelia stood shouting at Buffy.
“And we’re not jumping up and down because…?” he peered down at Willow. “Wow, look at Cordelia.” He sighed deeply. “She’s so sexy when she’s angry.”
Shooting Xander a look of sheer disgust, Willow shook her head and gave up on any kind of conversation with the boy when there were scantily clad cheerleaders around. Her eyes rested on Tara, to whom Buffy was clinging as though for dear life. The blonde had the expression of a deer caught in the headlights as Cordelia moved into rant mode, her clear voice rising and carrying over the sports field.
The coach held up his hands as though in submission and barked out a couple of sentences. Around him, the various students wanting to try out for athletics paused, then began to gather up the equipment that was strewn on the grass. Cordelia followed the coach for a couple of steps as he walked away from her, before he spun around and shouted something at her. She visibly recoiled, then assumed her haughtiest stance and turned to her cheerleaders, gathering them round her like a pack of well-trained performing poodles.
As the pack moved away down the field, Buffy and Tara walked back over to where Willow and Xander stood. As the blondes approached, Willow looked hopefully at Tara, her heart increasing in pace. But the shy girl avoided her gaze and instead looked down at the ground.
“Buffy, have you been trying to kill the cheerleaders again?” Xander asked mockingly as the Slayer pulled a face at him in reply.
“I threw the javelin. The javelin went wrong.”
“That’s right, blame your tools, I know I always do,” Xander slipped his arm around Buffy’s shoulders and hugged her.
“No Xander, you always blame Cordelia,” Buffy rolled her eyes, wriggling out of his sweaty grasp. “Ew, Xander, you might wanna shower before trying that on your cheerleading girlfriend,” she added, prodding his chest gingerly with a finger.
“And on that note,” Xander looked round all three girls, “who’s for hittin’ the shower with the Xan Man?” His grin widened as three pairs of eyes met his with a stony glare. “Ooookay then,” he shrugged, taking a step back. “I’ll just be showering with the guys.” He turned on his heel, then quickly looked back at them, holding up his finger, “I don’t mean actually with the guys.” He let out a cough and shook his head. “Not with the guys, uh, with the guys, if you get my meaning. Just with the…ah…” He clamped his lips tight shut and nodded curtly. “And I’ll just be going now.”
As they watched him scurry away towards the locker rooms, Buffy turned an amused look on Willow and Tara. “And once again, I manage to turn a simple school event into a whole heap of Buffy trouble,” she sighed. “You think Snyder would know better by now.”
“Buffy, it wasn’t your fault,” Willow reached out and squeezed the Slayer’s arm, hardly noticing Tara wince as she did so.
“No you know what Will? It really really was,” Buffy gave a sad grin. “But thanks for the whole supporto gal thing. You really got that workin’ for ya.”
“So I guess tryouts are over then,” Willow looked across the field to where the coach was stomping around his equipment trolley, flinging posts into it and looking as though the heavens had fallen on his beautiful day. Small groups of students filed past the three girls, heading for the lockers, some sniggering as they passed the Slayer.
“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy agreed. Looking down at her wrist, she sucked in a short breath of air and hissed it out again. “Darn, I gotta run. Mom’s expecting me home earlyish before I have to patr – “ she stopped abruptly, her eyes shifting over to Tara. “Petroleum,” she finished lamely, watching confusion flicker into Tara’s eyes. “Mom and I are uh…” she looked to Willow for inspiration, but received only a worried look from the redhead. “We, uh, we’re watching a program on petroleum. Yeah, that’s it.” A small silence fell among the three girls as Willow bit on her lower lip and looked down at the ground shamefully.
“Anyway,” Buffy interrupted the bemused thoughts of the blonde opposite her, “I really have to go. See you tomorrow?” She waved at the two girls before hurrying away across the sports field, wondering if she would ever be able to come up with an excuse for her Slaying that didn’t make her sound insane.
Willow and Tara were alone, almost all of the other students having reached the lockers and disappeared inside. The shouts of the cheerleaders filled the silence between them as Tara sighed and looked down at her feet.
“Are you going to…uh…” Willow gestured to the locker room.
“Yeah,” Tara turned her back on the redhead and trudged slowly towards the building beyond, hardly able to bear the look of abject worry that had crossed the redhead’s face. She was too good for me anyway, she told herself. Buffy’s much more her style. And I guess I always knew that, even from the first time we saw each other. And so another one bites the dust. Nice work, Tara.
***
The locker rooms were rapidly emptying by the time Willow and Tara reached them. Most students didn’t like to linger around school once lessons were over, especially as the nights were beginning to lengthen as the year moved on towards winter. Steam from the showers hung in the air as Tara wrenched open the locker with her clothes inside it. Gathering up her shampoo, soap and towel, she dumped them onto the bench running down the center of the alley in between the lockers, sitting down heavily. Pulling at her sneakers, she tried not to lift her gaze from her feet. Gym had always been her most hated subject at school. She was so embarrassed at the thought of baring her body after sports that avoiding a crowded shower had become an art form for her. Week after week, she had tried not to look at the enviable figures of the other girls in her class, wishing that she looked like they did. Instead, she managed always to find herself huddling under an oversized towel, shielding the dreadful image of herself from scornful eyes. She knew she wasn’t attractive; her brother and father had made sure of that bit of information. In fact, she sighed, pulling at her socks and dropping them on top of her sneakers, the only time she’d felt truly attractive was with Willow. The redhead had made Tara feel beautiful, inside and out.
And for what? Tara grimaced, standing up and pulling her shorts down her legs. So I could see her with Buffy and realize that I was a distraction or something? Shaking her head, she kicked the shorts to one side, hooking her fingers inside the waistband of her panties, then shucking them off. I can’t bear being rejected again, she sighed, feeling the loneliness seep into her chest, chilling her. I’ve never gotten so far before, never wanted someone so much and then had to give it up. Pulling her t-shirt over her head, she dropped it onto the bench beside her and unclasped her bra, dropping that down too. Grabbing the towel, she wrapped it around her and shuffled towards the showers, her shampoo and soap grasped in one hand, the other clamping the towel together at her breasts.
There were two other girls in the open shower, chatting and laughing. Their voices echoed off the tiles as Tara passed them by, looking for a more private place in which to bare her body. Two stalls down from them, the slight figure of a familiar redhead was soaping her hair, eyes closed and face upturned to the stream of water that was bouncing off her face. She rubbed fiercely at her eyes, the trickles of water down her cheeks looking horribly like tears to the blonde. She’d seen Willow naked before, sure she had. But seeing her like this, with water cascading off her shoulders and winding threads of moisture into the nooks and crannies of her flesh, it only increased Tara’s hurt tenfold. All she wanted to do was to take Willow into her arms and hold that body against her own. The tendrils of steam wandering around the redhead’s body made a mockery of Tara’s desire to hold Willow. They caressed the freckled skin in a way that still sat memorized in Tara’s mind, images of the sensation of skin on skin sensuously fresh.
“Hey Tara,” one of the girls said, making the blonde turn and give a shy smile, clutching at her towel with renewed vigor.
“Oh…hi,” Tara smiled.
“Jenny,” the girl confirmed her name and the blonde nodded, remembering. She’d been so caught up in the whole Willow-ness of starting her new school that she’d barely remembered the names of the other girls in her classes.
“And I’m Jill,” the other girl grinned, wiping at her bare shoulder with a sponge. “Jen and I are in your History class.”
“Oh…right,” Tara did vaguely remember them. They sat at the back writing notes to one another most of the time. She’d thought the notes had been about her for some reason, and so had avoided them whenever possible. Paranoid much? she thought to herself.
Two stalls away, a certain redhead felt her skin prickle at the mention of Tara’s name. Hardly able to help herself, she found that she was staring at the curve of Tara’s shoulders, finding them suddenly the most interesting things in the world. How well she remembered the smoothness of those shoulders underneath her lips and her fingers, the way that she had stroked her hand across the back of her neck and… Dear god, I’m getting horny just thinking about her, and school showers really aren’t made for that kind of thing.
“So how are you enjoying Sunnyhell High?” Jenny tittered, eliciting a similar giggle from Jill. She pushed her hands back, her wet hair slapping onto her skin.
“It’s uh…it’s okay so far, you know,” Tara said, her eyelids covering up her shyness somewhat.
“Where did you go to school before?” Jill asked, reaching forward and twisting the knob on the shower, turning the water off.
“Um, Modesto,” Tara answered. “B-b-but I like it here.” Raising her eyes heavenward, she congratulated herself on her eloquence. No wonder you never had any friends at your last school.
She never told me she went to school in Modesto, Willow thought, somewhat irked. Of course, the fact that she had never asked Tara about her previous schooling never occurred to her. All she knew was that two girls were talking to her Tara and it was making her more than a little jealous. Slowly, she turned around in the shower, the water bouncing off her back. Hurt put two little lines above her eyes.
Jenny similarly turned off the flow of water and reached for her towel, wrapping it around her shapely body. She offered a smile to Tara that was genuine and reached for her shampoo, gathering it up. “Well anytime you want to go out or something, Jill and I know a few places to hang out.” She shrugged as the other girl leaned in, smiling at Tara and nodding.
“Thanks,” Tara breathed. Real life girls. Who want to hang out with me. Weird. That’s never happened before. Well, not before Willow, anyway.
“Sure thing, see you around Tara,” Jill grinned, exiting the shower with Jenny following close behind.
Reaching up behind her head, Tara pulled at the band holding her hair in a ponytail. “Bye!” she called to the retreating figures. Half shrugging to herself, she shook out her hair, running her fingers down the blonde locks and placing her shampoo onto the small shelf at the back of the stall. There were shower cubicles in a row of three opposite the open stalls, but seeing as it was just her and Willow, she decided not to use them. She was aware of the spattering sound of water two stalls away and tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the fact that a naked, soapy and very hot Willow was standing right near her.
Turning the knob on the shower, Tara welcomed the spray of hot water that fell down on her head. She stood underneath it and let it fall down her hair, making the blonde tresses heavy on her shoulders. Willow. It always came back to Willow. There were two girls who wanted to be her friends, and still the only person she felt like being around was Willow. Even if Willow wanted to be around Buffy. A sigh pulled out of her lungs as she reached for her soap, wetting the cake underneath the water and rubbing it up over her shoulder, then back down again in slow strokes.
“Tara?”
She turned, her arms awkwardly shielding her breasts, though why she couldn’t imagine. It wasn’t as though Willow hadn’t seen her naked before. But the rift between them seemed to increase her shyness, and now all she wanted to do was hide away from the redhead.
Willow’s hair was wet, slicked back from her face. Water clung in droplets against her skin and ran rivulets of moisture down the planes of her face, falling onto her breasts and outlining the rosy pink nipples that Tara sensed by memory more than by sight. Moving out of the spray of water, Willow took a tentative step towards the edge of her stall and paused for a minute, her mouth working around words she felt she had no right to express.
“Willow…” Tara shook her head, feeling the stray strands of hair whip wetly at her shoulders.
“No,” the redhead took another step closer, crossing the boundary of her own stall and into the one next to Tara’s. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to read the expression on the blonde’s face, but failed to do so. Does she even like me anymore? Does she want me?
“Look,” she continued, raising her hand and resting it against the tiled wall near to her that separated one stall from another. “I’ve upset you, and I don’t know why, but I have. And if I’m wrong then I’m sorry, okay? And if I’m not wrong, and I haven’t upset you, and you’re not mad at me, then I’m still sorry. Okay? I’m really sorry you stopped talking to me and then I didn’t talk to you and now we’re here and it’s all just…it’s just…”
“Willow,” Tara couldn’t help smiling at the abject despair painted across the redhead’s face. Despite her own insecurities, the blonde adored every single one of Willow’s, no matter how unreasonable they were. She loved the way that Willow was able to feel things so deeply; the way that she took on other people’s pain as her own. Her empathy was something Tara had sensed from the very first moment they had locked eyes. And she had never felt it more keenly than right now this very minute.
“Yes?” Willow said breathlessly, her fingers slipping over the wet tile.
“It’s not you…it really isn’t,” Tara began, before biting at her lower lip and placing the soap onto the little shelf near the shower knob. Running the suds off her hands under the water, she stepped out of the shower spray and moved closer to the redhead. “Well,” she tilted her head onto one side, her hair sliding over her right shoulder, “it’s a little bit of you and a little bit of me. I mean…” Stopping, she swallowed hard and prepared herself for the worst declaration of all. The thing she’d been trying to avoid for the last hour.
“You mean…?”
“Buffy.” Tara’s mouth drew itself into a hard line.
Receiving the word, Willow’s mind processed it slowly, confusion replacing the misery on her face. Frowning, she jutted out her chin towards Tara, blinking the bemusement into her eyes, their hue darkening to a misted green.
“Buffy?” she repeated slowly, drawing out the syllables. “What about her?”
“She’s really pretty,” Tara sighed wistfully, the comparisons between herself and Willow’s best friend pushing her self-perception far short of anything the redhead might want, or need, or desire. “A-a-and she’s um…she’s your best friend…and the t-t-two of you are close, so, you know, it’s easy with her to um…” she dropped her chin onto her chest and mumbled the rest of the sentence inaudibly into her wet skin.
“She is my best friend,” Willow nodded, still not quite understanding. Watching the blonde she recognized the flush building on the other girl’s cheeks. She’d seen this before, when Tara wanted to avoid saying something outright. The words jumbled round in her head for a couple of seconds before any kind of light began to dawn on her. A chill scattered from her brain down to her spine, sprinkling understanding onto her body like the drops of water that were rolling down her skin.
“Wait,” she started abruptly, “is this like, something really complicated that I’m just not getting?” Please let her still like me, please let her still like me, her inner voice recited like a mantra.
Casting her wide blue eyes up to meet Willow’s gaze, Tara half shrugged. “I guess it’s complicated...I don’t know.” Sighing, she took a short breath before continuing. “It’s complicated because of Buffy.” There. It was all out in the open now. Bar the shouting, crying and inevitable breaking of hearts.
That was it. That was what Willow had assumed. She might have known that Buffy’s allure as the Slayer wouldn’t elude someone as clued in as Tara. The blonde had said before that Buffy was cute. She’d also said she was cool. In Tara speak, that was pretty much a declaration of undying love.
“You have a crush on Buffy?” Willow’s voice croaked out and her fingers clung onto the tile wall as though for dear life. Shaking her head, the water on her body seemed to chill to ice, freezing and numbing her every reaction. How could she have been so stupid as to think that Tara wouldn’t have a crush on Buffy. Everyone Willow had ever loved had done. It stood to reason that Tara would fall that way too.
“What?” Tara’s voice jerked Willow’s vision back into focus, the face of the blonde screwed up in anxiety and misunderstanding. “No!” she asserted firmly, her voice bouncing off the tile and back into Willow’s ears. “I don’t have a crush on Buffy, silly,” she glared at Willow as though the redhead was the stupidest person on earth. Which, to all intents and purposes, was just how Willow felt right now.
“Okay,” Willow tried to ignore the squelching of her heart as it deflated inside her chest, and held up her other hand, starting again. “Things are complicated because of Buffy. Why?”
“Because of your feelings for her,” Tara said, her bottom jaw jutting out defiantly. Her eyes turned to cold blue that shivered a spike into Willow’s heart. “Because of the way you are with her.”
“She’s my best friend!” the redhead pleaded, as though that would help.
Quite frankly, it didn’t.
“Right,” Tara nodded assertively, her stutter momentarily forgotten in the hotness swirling around her head. The hiss of the shower behind her accentuated the echo of her voice in the room. “And maybe being with me isn’t what you really want, Willow. Maybe you’d rather be with…” her voice cracked as she stumbled over the emotion filling her throat, “…someone else.”
She doesn’t like Buffy. She doesn’t have a crush on Buffy. Relief flooded the redhead’s nerves only to be followed quickly by another wave of anguish. So why does she think that…?
She blinked. Twice.
“Oh no, Tara,” her voice sounded as though she was talking in slow motion or something. “No no no no,” she added, just for effect. “You think I have…?” she could hardly bear to finish the question, it was so distasteful to her own ears. Quite involuntarily, she shuddered at the mere suggestion.
“Well don’t you?” Tara looked at her accusingly, her eyes misted by the tears that were currently lodged in her throat.
“Oh god no,” Willow said breathlessly, shaking her head violently from side to side. “How could you even think that? How could you?” Pulling a face, she eyed the surprised expression on the blonde’s face and shuddered again. “Buffy is…” she felt her mouth take a downward turn, “…well she’s not that, whichever way you look at it. Ugh. Nasty.”
“But you and she are so close,” Tara said, taking another step closer to Willow, who was by now rather unnerved by the whole idea of her and Buffy being together in that way. Unnerved and, she realized, sickened.
“Not that close!” Willow almost shouted. “Honestly Tara, how could you even think that Buffy and I…” pressing her lips together she shook her head again wonderingly. “Buffy and me? Bleh,” she stuck her tongue out and made gagging noises. “She’s a girl and I’m not interested in um…”
“Girls?” Tara raised her eyebrows, somewhat amused by Willow’s outburst. “Oh really?” She cast a somewhat cursory glance down at her naked body and then met Willow’s eyes once more. “Thanks, uh, I think.”
Clamping her hand over her mouth, Willow closed her eyes, a shameful flush racing across her cheeks. The sound of the water tapping against the tile from their showers was the only sound for a long minute that stretched out endlessly across the gap separating them. The corner of Tara’s mouth twitched with an amused appreciation. The vehemence of the redhead had gone some way to assuaging the fears of the blonde, although she still clung to her suspicions with the strength of a thousand broken hearts.
“I’m sorry,” Willow mumbled from behind her hand. “That came out wrong.”
“You think?” Tara half-smiled. The shaky grin she received from the redhead managed to push some tendrils of warmth into her heart.
“I never, you know, before you,” Willow moved closer to the blonde, her voice dropping intimately. “Never. Not with anyone.” She pulled in a short breath and crinkled up her face in disgust once more, “And especially not with Buffy. I mean, ew.”
“Okay, okay,” Tara held up her hand in submission, “I get the picture.” A pretty hazy picture though, her mind grumbled at her. “It’s just that you and she seem to have all these secrets together, things that you obviously don’t wanna tell me, and I get kinda…” she shrugged, “I just get kinda uh, jealous.” Her voice quietened to a whisper, as though she were ashamed of the emotion.
“Jealous? Over me?” Willow’s delighted tone failed to impress the blonde, who frowned and looked away. Oh I’m all with the woo-hoo over here, Willow thought, elated. Reaching out, she grasped hold of Tara’s hand, and pulled it towards her. Grudgingly but not without some pleasure, Tara moved in even closer to Willow so that the two girls were almost touching. Catching a scent of Willow’s shampoo, Tara closed her eyes, breathing in something that smelled like strawberries. It was intoxicating.
“You don’t have to be jealous of anyone,” Willow said softly, running her thumb over the back of Tara’s hand, rubbing against the wet skin that still held a trace of soap. “Especially not Buffy. There’s only one woman I’m interested in; ever have been interested in and probably ever will be interested in.” She peered into Tara’s blue eyes and momentarily lost herself in the soulful expression of the other girl. A distant sadness there touched her suddenly, making her want to make all the hurt Tara had ever experienced go away and stay away. Squeezing Tara’s hand, she leant in again. “That’s you, by the way. You know that, right?”
The blonde let out a short laugh and smiled at the redhead. “Yes Willow, I know.”
“And about the Buffy thing? I mean, apart from the gigantic “ew” I’d like to fit in first,” Willow rushed out all at once, “I think there’s a few things I should probably tell you.”
“Like what?” Tara frowned.
As Willow opened her mouth, the clatter of the exterior door startled them both, whipping their heads round to where the archway led through to the locker room. The sound of female voices raised in discussion trickled through to the two naked girls.
“Oh darn,” Willow hissed from between gritted teeth, “cheerleading practice is over.” Looking back at her own shower stall she reached back and grabbed her towel and soap, indicating silently to Tara that she do the same.
“Willow, what’s – “ Tara began to ask, before the redhead ‘ssshed’ her loudly and pulled her into one of the shower cubicles opposite the stalls. Once inside, Willow quietly closed the door with a click and breathed a sigh of relief.
The shower cubicle was small, even by teenage girl standards. Hanging their towels onto the hook behind the door, Willow stepped back and bumped up against the fleshy breasts of the other girl. Almost stumbling, she put out her hands behind her, only to find her fingers sinking into flesh of a most delicious kind. Tara’s thighs pressed up against Willow’s ass as the redhead found her hands meeting firm, warm, wet skin. She swallowed. Now was not the time.
A mouth against her ear breathed warm air onto her wet hair. Willow shivered, despite the tepid temperature of the cubicle, still retaining some steam that had drifted in from the shower room. A pair of hands slipped around her waist, settling snugly over her belly, pulling her back against the slippery wetness of the blonde.
“So tell me then,” Tara whispered into Willow’s ear. “Tell me about Buffy.”
“Now?” Willow frowned, her body tensing against the blonde.
“Yeah,” Tara rested her chin onto Willow’s shoulder, her speech bobbing her head up and down on the bone.
“Okay,” Willow sighed, knowing that she and Tara would be here for the duration. Perhaps her elusive avoidance of Cordelia and her cronies hadn’t exactly been the wisest of maneuvers. Given the choice between having to spend at least half an hour in a cramped space with naked Tara or suffer the slings and arrows of Cordelia’s outrageous mocking, Willow was erring on the latter side. She just wasn’t sure how long she could go without guiding her fingers into more intimate places, exploring the parts of the blonde that were, even now, pushing and tickling against her ass.
Shuffling around in the cubicle, as awkward as it was, Willow moved so that she was facing Tara. Her anxiety increased as she realized that this wasn’t much better. As the blonde girl encircled Willow in her arms, the redhead’s nipples puckered and hardened against the fleshy mounds of the other girl. They shared a sly smile, and Tara reached up with one hand, pushing away a strand of wet hair that had somehow found its way onto Willow’s brow.
“Tara,” Willow whispered, placing her hands onto the other girl’s shoulders. “The thing about Buffy is…”
“Yes?” Tara murmured, leaning forward to lick at a droplet of water on the other girl’s shoulder.
Willow whimpered under her breath, squeezing her eyes tight shut. Amid her inner struggle not to return the caress, she heard the trilling voices of cheerleaders pour into the shower room, their high-pitched tones tensing her body against the other girl.
“That was so not great,” Cordelia Chase’s cut glass tones rose above the general chatter. “Oh please, what is it with these freshmen? They come in here and leave their stuff all over the place,” there was a short break in her narrative as she moved past the cubicle in the direction of the stall previously occupied by Willow. “Cheap shampoo.” She tutted loudly, “So small town. You know, if you’re going to be putting something on your hair, you might at least make an effort not to buy Came-Apart’s finest.”
A gaggle of giggles met her scornful appraisal of Willow’s shampoo as the other cheerleaders wetly splashed their way across the stalls.
“And nobody had the decency to turn off the shower,” Cordelia let out a huge sigh that reached chillingly into the cubicle. “Seriously, this place is full of losers. Neanderthal losers. I’m amazed half of them know what a shower’s for.” The squeaking that followed accompanied a spurt of water as the head cheerleader twisted the knob in front of her.
“Hey Cordy,” a voice came from the far left of Willow and Tara’s hearing, “what about that Buffy girl? Where does she get off, ruining practice like that?”
“Please,” Cordelia’s answer came, “it takes more than some LA freak dropout to ruin my cheers.”
A tangible frown crossed Willow’s face and she shook her head. Looking up at Tara, she rolled her eyes. The blonde couldn’t help grinning in reply at her indignation.
“Not a big Buffy fan then,” she whispered.
“Cordelia’s not a big anyone fan,” Willow breathed, “unless it’s herself of course. She’s a huge fan of Cordelia. The biggest.”
Tara tightened her grip on the other girl and pulled her close, feeling the hard nubs of Willow’s nipples deliciously pressing against her own body. “So…” she probed, raising her eyebrows.
“Okay, okay,” Willow nodded, trying to ignore the increase in her heart rate. “See, Buffy’s not like other girls, Tara,” she began, her voice barely audible over the chatter and showers of the cheerleaders outside. “When she first arrived in Sunnydale, we found out something that you have to keep a secret. I mean, it’s a big thing.”
“Alright,” Tara’s brow crinkled slightly, but she trusted Willow enough to know that what she was hearing now was the truth.
“Sunnydale’s not like other places,” Willow whispered, shifting her position slightly and wishing that she hadn’t, the friction against the blonde causing all sorts of distracting notions to rush through her head. “It’s uh…” she gulped, trying to ignore the pulsing in her brain, “it’s um…on a…on a…”
“Hellmouth?” Tara suggested helpfully.
The startled look from the redhead numbed both girls into momentary silence. The confusion that sped through Willow’s gaze was nothing compared to the happiness that colored Tara’s blue eyes. She knows about the Hellmouth? No, wait, she knows about the Hellmouth! Tara hugged the redhead gratefully, relief whooshing from her mouth in a huge sigh.
“Are you still dating that loser, Cordelia?” a mocking voice filtered through the cubicle door from the far right of the shower room.
“He might be a loser but at least I have a boyfriend Harmony.” Cordelia’s tone beat the other girl down before the argument had a chance to get started.
“You have to admit Cordy, he’s a geek,” another voice criticized. “I mean, look who he hangs out with. The dork squad.” Peals of laughter accompanied this latest insult.
“You know what a Hellmouth is?” Willow shook her head against the obvious indictment of herself and her fellow Scoobies.
“Sure,” Tara nodded. “My mom told me all about this place where the barriers between our world and other worlds converge. Like a mystical portal or something.”
“Huh?” The redhead was clearly mystified, and not a little scared.
“Willow,” Tara bent her head and sucked at the other girl’s shoulder, kissing it gently before raising her eyes to meet the pools of green gazing intently at her. “Not everyone is as stupid as they are,” she jerked her gaze towards the shower room, eliciting a tiny smile from the redhead.
Willow shrugged, “It’s not the kind of thing you generally make conversation about you know. Hi, I’m Willow and I live on a Hellmouth. Let’s go out for coffee, food, kisses and gay love.” She let out a sigh and pressed her lips together. “Buffy’s a Slayer, Tara. She’s a vampire slayer.”
“Huh,” Tara took in the information and let it permeate into her head. “Right. Yeah, that makes sense.”
“You,” Willow dropped a trail of kisses onto the blonde’s collarbone and trickled her fingers down over Tara’s ass, feeling the other girl respond by pushing her hips gently forward, “are amazing.”
“Besides, there are other advantages to going out with Xander that I wouldn’t expect you dweebs to understand,” Cordelia’s voice ripped over the sound of the showers.
A plastic bottle clattered to the ground and slid across the tile, wet footsteps rapidly slapping after it. “Which are?” a cynical tone enquired.
“Well there was this one time,” Cordelia began, clearly enjoying the prospect of touting her escapades to her followers, “when Xander and I were parked up at Prospect Point. And it was like, just us.” Several of the showers stopped running, giving the head cheerleader more opportunity to make herself heard.
“We’ve all been parking, Cordelia.”
“No, but this was different.” Cordelia’s voice swung close to the cubicle door then moved away again. “I mean, he’s a really great kisser. Really great.”
Tara pressed her lips down onto Willow’s, feeling the redhead’s mouth open in response. As their tongues touched, a tiny grunt escaped from the blonde’s throat, and she pushed in deeper, running the tip of her tongue over Willow’s gums, then flicking it back to slide along the length of the redhead’s lips. Hands moved in tandem, slipping over soaped hips to grab and pull each girl closer to the other.
Tara’s fingers, puckered and wet from the shower, rubbed in a line up past Willow’s waist to where her breasts jutted out. Pinching her forefinger and thumb together, Tara captured one of Willow’s nipples between them, applying just enough pressure to make the redhead whimper in a glorious mixture of pleasure and pain. A slow, seductive smile caressed Tara’s lips as she bent her head to Willow’s neck, sucking and nipping on the pulse point throbbing madly beneath her mouth.
“You know, sometimes, he’ll kiss me just there, and the way he uses his tongue is just amazing,” Cordelia’s voice brought forth much admiration from her cronies as she continued the exploits that had a whole group of girls hanging on her every word. “I know he wants to go further, but we’re not ready for that yet,” she added seriously. “I mean, sex, that’s just, like, not part of the picture.” A snapping noise cracked the humid air in the shower room as she shook out her towel. “Not yet, anyway,” she laughed lightly.
“You’d have sex with him?” a voice echoed at her. “Oh god, you know, it’s not like I haven’t had frat boys wanting it, but I’m not sure I’d actually do anything about it.”
“Ooooh, frat boys,” another voice filled with admiration, “they’re just so dreamy. Did you see Todd in his new car the other day? He is just so fine.”
“I’m through with my frat boy phase,” Cordelia said bluntly. “I kind of think Xander has more to offer in the uh…wanting to please kind of area.” Raucous laughter filled the shower room, led by Cordelia’s own lilting glee.
As Tara bent her head to Willow’s other nipple, the redhead slipped her own hand down and grasped the blonde’s breast, squeezing it firmly, rubbing her thumb over the hard nub. Tara let out a sigh of pleasure and thrust her hips forward, feeling her damp curls brush against Willow’s red pussy intoxicatingly.
Parting her legs, Willow allowed the other girl to push her thigh up into the wetness that was thankful for the firm pressure of flesh. Biting at her lip to still her aching tongue, the redhead pushed down on the leg in between her own. With her free hand, she pushed a finger down to part the lips of the other girl and find the searing hotness of her clitoris. Tara’s teeth tightened around her nipple imperceptibly and she moved her hand down onto Willow’s hip, pushing the girl more firmly onto her leg.
Thrusting with her thigh, Tara felt Willow sink down, her pussy parting to allow a trickle of wetness to run down the blonde’s leg. Feeling Willow’s finger begin to wind circles around her clitoris, Tara dug her own digits into the redhead’s ass, grinding her down onto the hardness, trembling up into the girl’s pussy. Starting to move her hips in rhythm, Tara felt Willow’s grasp on her clitoris increase, a thumb joining the forefinger to pinch and massage a series of delectable sensations up and down the blonde’s body.
“You seriously did it on the back seat?” Cordelia’s voice was incredulous.
“All. Night,” the answer came just before a series of shrieks and laughter filled the shower room.
Taking the opportunity this presented, a low moan trailed from Willow’s throat as she thrust her hips forward, pressing down hard onto Tara’s thigh. The blonde’s mouth settled on her shoulder as she did so, Tara’s teeth biting into the soft flesh just above her collarbone. Sliding up and down on her own sticky wetness, Willow sensed the musky scent rising from her and Tara’s union, the aroma curling into her head and pulling at her nerves. Murmuring under her breath, Willow let her head fall back on her neck and slid two more fingers between the puffy lips that so willingly received them. Tara was wet, her desire soaking Willow’s fingers in a hotness that allowed the girl easy entrance to the channel of lust that enticed her in. Pushing in further, Tara gasped at the intrusion, rocking her pelvis back and forth on Willow’s fingers, her own hand splayed out on the redhead’s waist, forcing her down onto the slippery wet skin of her thigh.
“I just couldn’t have sex all the time like that,” one of the cheerleaders announced, to the mocking laughter of her fellow counterparts. “No seriously, I couldn’t!” she exclaimed over the giggles that echoed up to the roof of the shower room. “I mean, all that hot sweaty pushing and shoving, ugh. I hear it plays havoc with a decent hairstyle.”
“Like you’d know,” Cordelia interjected sarcastically. “When was the last time you visited a decent stylist?”
Moving faster now, Willow felt a trembling in her knees that threatened to throw her off balance. A thin trail of perspiration trickled through her hair, mussed up against her scalp. Hooking her free arm around Tara’s shoulders, she hung on the other girl and pressed her legs together, increasing the throbbing pressure in her pussy. Racing like wildfire up her body, the thrilling sensation mingled with the musky scent of her sex, dripping onto Tara’s thigh as it was. Pulling her fingers out of Tara almost to the tip, she felt the other girl whimper against her shoulder.
Her mouth open, Willow’s tongue peeked past her teeth just once before she thrust three fingers back inside Tara’s pussy, her thumb pressing firmly against the hard clitoris that throbbed insanely against her skin. Hot breath trailed over her skin as Tara let out a gasp of pure delicious pleasure, her fingers pinching Willow’s nipple hard, sending pain rocketing down the redhead’s body. Hardly able to contain herself, Willow let out a groan that came from the very depths, it seemed, of her soul.
“Did you hear something?” A tremulous voice almost halted the two girls in the cubicle, sending a nauseous chill into the shaking hot pillars of their conjoined bodies.
“Yeah,” Cordelia answered quickly. “The cold numbing fear of your slutty reputation being leaked to the whole school.”
Through the cries and shouts of laughter that followed, Willow and Tara sucked in huge lungfuls of air against one another, resuming their lovemaking, unable to stop even if the Hellmouth had opened up and threatened to swallow them both. Nothing seemed to matter now, only the destination, only the goal they both wanted to reach. Reaching up with her free hand, Tara placed her palm over Willow’s mouth, silencing any more untoward expressions of desire. Her fingers pressed against the redhead’s cheek as her thumb curled down underneath the chin that was pushing against it. A trickle of sweat danced teasingly down over Tara’s belly, pressed up against Willow’s hot damp skin, moving ever downward to her pussy, where the redhead’s fingers pumped in and out relentlessly.
“Oh god,” Cordelia’s voice called the cheerleaders to attention, “look at the time. I have homework.”
“And Xander time, no doubt,” a voice trailed after her as the group of cheerleaders moved as one out of the shower room.
As the last girl left the row of stalls and their chatter became muted by the tall rows of lockers in the adjacent room, Willow’s breathing became audible. Panting against Tara, her chest heaved as she felt the inevitable buzzing in her thighs. Curling the tips of her fingers round inside Tara, she pushed against the fleshy pad her digits found, hearing the ragged sighs of abandon tear from the lungs of the blonde. Grasping her closer, Willow rubbed herself onto Tara’s leg with a ferocity hitherto unknown to her. She needed this. She wanted this. She had to have it, had to feel the joy surging through her veins that only Tara could provide.
“Oh god Willow,” Tara grunted, the pressure on her clitoris almost more than she could bear. The hot throbbing nub that was the pinnacle of her passion danced under the redhead’s thumb, seeking fulfillment in the explosion of lights that were even now blinking on and off in the back of her head. “Willow,” she muttered again, grasping wildly at the other girl. “I’m going to…oh Willow, I’m going to…”
As she teetered on the brink of her orgasm, Willow opened her eyes and met Tara’s dead on, the deep blue instilling a satiated sense of calm inside her. Blinking once, she took in Tara’s open mouth and reddened lips, the heavy breaths that were raising her breasts up and down, brushing maddeningly against her own. Taking all of this in and more, much more, Willow reached out and bit down on one of Tara’s fingers, pressing the flesh between her teeth.
Letting out a cry that was a heady mixture of pain and excitement, Tara threw her hips forward and let the throbbing work its way through her veins, shaking a gratification into her entire system, communicating the same, it seemed, into Willow’s own form, falling against her in ecstasy. For a moment, nothing existed but the pleasure, the delirium. Taking both girls in and swirling them round in a sensual exploration of one another, the emotion subsided slowly, dragging the tingling down through their loins, down their legs, down their arms, until all that was left was a lazy memory buzzing gently around their heads.
Sighing, Tara lifted her head from Willow’s shoulder, looking with some chagrin at the teeth marks she had left there. Meeting the redhead’s gaze, glancing over her with adoration painting deep and lasting colors into the green, the blonde frowned slightly at the smirk widening Willow’s mouth.
“What?” she asked gently, spreading her fingers over the small of the other girl’s back.
“I was just thinking,” Willow held back a giggle, “that we probably need a shower.”
***
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You know I've been through hell...Joss can't you see, there'll be nothing left of me. You made me believe...
[This message has been edited by tommo (edited March 16, 2002).]
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