Title: Better in the Best Ways
Author: Michelle K. (CageyGrl@yahoo.com)
Spoilers: "The Portland Trip"
Summary: This is not a 'Twilight Zone' episode.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.
Notes: So, I've been fooling around with an A/D series and, somehow, this PWP resulted during all the plot planning. And, look, Julian! No one's thinking 'bout somebody else.
Better in the Best Ways by Michelle K.
Ainsley, Donna decides, looks nothing like her. If she did, then Donna would feel weirder about kissing her -- like she were stuck in a 'Twilight Zone' episode involving sex-crazed doppelgangers. But this does *not* feel strange. It didn't feel strange when Ainsley first kissed her, when they undressed each other, when they fell back onto the bed.
It felt normal and *good* -- the kind of good that makes a sentence into one word, like ohmyGodthatfeelssoincredible.
"Ainsley," Donna groans as she feels Ainsley's thumb run over her nipple. She studies the body of the woman hovering over her, checks off the things that are different, from the softness of her features to the fullness of her breasts. Donna's certain she's *never* looked as good as Ainsley but, then again, when has anyone judged their body fairly?
Still, she knows she doesn't look like Ainsley. Todd's an idiot, a blind idiot, and she most certainly does not need to meet any more eligible men. Ainsley's a much better dinner date than the majority of the men she's been out with; so far, that seems to extend to post-dinner activities as well.
Donna pulls Ainsley in for a kiss, making their teeth clank together unceremoniously. She sucks on Ainsley's bottom lip as she feels a hand slide down her stomach. Her body tenses and relaxes in a matter of seconds, then arches as fingers brush against her curls.
Ainsley pulls away, body still hovering. Donna grabs onto Ainsley's back as she pushes herself toward her lazy fingers. She's seconds away from begging to be touched when Ainsley plunges three fingers inside her.
She moans loudly at the intrusion. She's surprised at the ease of the motion, but not at the buzz it sends through her body. The buzz continues as Ainsley keeps moving her fingers in and out of Donna's opening. Donna grabs on tighter; she's sure she's going to leave marks on Ainsley's skin, but neither of them seems to care now.
Ainsley's fingers stop moving and curl inside Donna. Her muscles begin to tighten, drawing the digits in as deep as they can get. Donna can barely breathe as it is, but then Ainsley has to press her thumb against the tiny bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex, and Donna can't breathe *or* think.
Thing is, though, it doesn't seem that troubling at the moment.
Her fingers start moving again, curving in *just* the right way, as her thumb moves in tight circles. Donna feels her body begin to tremble as her cries grow louder. It's like torture, exquisite torture, and Donna now really knows why an orgasm is sometimes referred to as a little death.
"Ainsley," Donna groans, arching, gripping, flailing against the other woman's hand.
Ainsley's thumb brushes against her clit one last time, and Donna's pretty sure she could *never* make someone come like this.
Donna pulls Ainsley to her, kisses her neck. She licks a bit of skin, tasting fresh sweat mixed with the dried perspiration of earlier in the evening. She lets a hand slide down to one of Ainsley's breasts, cupping it while she rubs the nipple with her palm.
Ainsley groans. Donna's silently content.
When she rolls Ainsley over and straddles her, she's not nervous. Sex with a woman is nothing new; before Larry and his med. school, she spent her share of time feeling long fingers slip through her hair. It had never been a big deal; everyone in college tries those types of things just to try them. Now, she's thinking that women never should've been an experiment. Not just because she hasn't felt this good about trailing her lips down someone's skin in *ages,* but because Ainsley makes her feel so *warm.*
She made her feel hot just by complimenting her dress, caused a blush that embarrassed her; Josh couldn't achieve that feat.
Now, Donna's convinced that Ainsley's skin should be burnt by her touch.
A moan escapes Donna's lips as she places a kiss on a patch of skin right above Ainsley's sex. This is *definitely* heat. Settling between Ainsley's legs, Donna looks up at her and smiles. Ainsley smiles back, a look of relaxation on her face that hadn't been there earlier in the evening, when Donna had bugged her while she was working. That look hadn't even fully been there at dinner, also known as the date-that-wasn't-a-date-until-they-started-kissing. But now, Ainsley looks serene and *amazing,* and Donna's got a hunch she could never glow like that.
She quickly swipes her tongue over Ainsley's sex before pushing inside. Fingers slide through her hair, guiding her to the tiny bundle of nerves hidden inside Ainsley. Her first instinct's to resist, to linger, to taste her fully before letting her come. But this whole night has been a build-up, and Ainsley deserves the release she received. They can tease each other later.
Donna brushes her tongue against Ainsley's clit before drawing it into her mouth. She hums around the nub as she slips two fingers inside her. Increasing her pressure on Ainsley's clit, she pushes her digits deeper.
Ainsley purrs in a way Donna's never heard before, low and beautiful. Her hands grip tighter onto Donna's hair as she pushes her hips upward. Donna sucks harder on her clit as she curls her fingers, searching for the right place.
"Donna," in an excited gasp.
There it is. Donna smiles, holding the pressure constant until Ainsley's body shudders against her. Ainsley pulls her into a kiss after the orgasm subsides.
"That was amazing," Ainsley whispers.
"I can do better."
Ainsley raises an eyebrow. "You could always show me."
Donna smiles. "I intend to."
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