Fucking on a Sunday is no time to think of exes (F/F. Trans, Oral.)

The clean white light came through the sheer curtain, almost liquid. It was 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Catherine rolled over in the queen-size bed that was both bigger and more comfortable than her own. The sheets matched the comforter which matched the pillow cases. She was alone. She stretched her arms tentatively and kicked her foot out, testing her body. It was always confusing to her to wake up in strange places. No cat pawing at the ends of her dark sleep-tousled hair, no alarm and needing to pee but not wanting to venture out into the strange day quite yet.

A clink of a pan came singing down the hall, a sudden barking cough, a cabinet creak. The sounds of a Sunday morning in a home shared with a lover. Catherine held her breath and shoved her face into the pillow that smelled faintly like a perfume she herself would never buy.

In a swift motion Catherine rolled out of the bed onto the floor, limbs rotating. She stood up, spine uncurling in the twist.

She walked to the bathroom attached to the bedroom without letting her heels touch the ground in an attempt to keep quiet, a habit leftover from those married days when she would hide in the bedroom for hours pretending she was still asleep as her wife went on about her morning, without her.

Now wasn't the time to think about ex-spouses.

She looked in the tall victorian style mirror and looked herself in the eyes. Her face was wrinkled and flush with sleep. She raised an eyebrow and splashed cold water from the faucet onto her face to wash it away.

She peed. Sat for a moment before going back into the bedroom, where the woman from last night had taken back up residence. Her body was curled underneath the cover, only the top of her blonde head showing.

"Hey, you're back," Catherine said as she climbed back in, fitting her body up underneath the stranger's muscular arm, pressing her ass against the woman's soft stomach. She wrapped her ankle around the woman's calf.

The woman — April — kissed her shoulder lightly, squeezed a hand on Catherine's thigh.

They lay in the quiet clean light for a moment, neither breathing. The air felt heavy, like you could sink underneath it.

April gently scratched a long fingernail down Catherine's ribcage and scraped her mouth against the side of her neck so delicately it made her want to sob.

And the air wasn't heavy anymore, when they began touching, hands slowly wandering closer up the inner thighs and around the tops of panties.

A lash of the nails down the thigh, rough enough to leave a mark. April's lips on her neck then her chest. A gentle bite on Catherine's nipple accompanied by a soft moan and just a few moments of sucking.

It was so tender Catherine wanted to scream, to attack the woman — pin her down and ride her hips, thrusting her body down on April's aroused cock.

Instead she squirmed and scratched her nails down April's long back, drawing marks. Her heart fluttered maddeningly in her chest and her clit throbbed as Aprll slowly, slowly dragged her teeth down Catherine's belly towards the tops of her thighs.

Lips curled against lips. A flick of the tongue and three fingers massaging the walls of Catherine's body. Eyes closed and fingers gripping the soft sheets, the lover's arm — nails pressed to flesh.

Catherine yanked April's head closer, firmly, taking her by the hair. She was too aroused to ask for pleasure nicely, and instead demanded it. She thrust her clit and vulva hard against April's open mouth, and wide-spread palm. She engulfed the woman's fingers and face with her body, desperate to come.

April pulled away, a fucking tease. The woman stretched her arms out overhead as she removed her dress, exposing her own arousal. She knelt down on the bed where Catherine lay. They both throbbed and ached for release. Catherine pulled the woman down on top of her and nearly came on the spot as April's body filled her own.

Catherine reached down and massaged her clitoris roughly as April thrusted herself in and around. Her walls tightened around April's body as she finally came in shaking starts. A waterfall of pleasure, pushed over the edge. She was lost in her own world of physical fireworks. It could have been five or ten or sixty minutes later the two finally pulled apart sweaty and indelicate.

Catherine rolled on top of April and collapsed against the woman's broad chest. She nudged her face into the woman's neck and licked her earlobe. She felt less like an animal and more like a kitten, now. She wanted to disappear inside the moment, finally emptied of feelings and cravings.

Oh please, who reads passed the climax? After all that, they had a cigarette, some coffee and brunch. Like proper lesbians do.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/386hjc/fucking_on_a_sunday_is_no_time_to_think_of_exes