Scissor Link by Georgette Kaplan (novels to improve english .txt) 📗

the left side of the coat and drew it open, then her right hand on the right side and pulled that away from her body as well. She stood there, displayed, as Janet had never seen her before.

She hadn’t put anything on. She’d taken it all off.

Janet’s eyes traileddown Wendy’s body like water running over her. She could barely even get to Wendy’s nudity, not when Wendy’s face was so…open, her eyes full of lust, her mouth set in a cocky smirk, knowing how good she looked, knowing Janet couldn’t resist, knowing as Janet didn’t just how good this would feel. Then the swan curve of her neck, the delicate set of her shoulders, belying the subtle, understated muscle in her arms, in her flat stomach, in her firm thighs. Her cleavage crested her torso in perfect teardrops, just enough for her long, lean frame, for the miles of midriff that led to neatly swelled hips, the peacefully eddying current that flowed from belly to pubis to thighs to groin. Then the long, slender legs, the graceful part of her thighs, even the cute little rustle of motion as she realized she still had her slippers on and kicked them off to stand in white socks on the floor.

She was magnificent. She was willing. She was naked.

“What if you’d fallen down the stairs and broken your neck?” Janet asked, aghast.

“Then I’d be more worried about my broken neckthan someone seeing my nips,” Wendy replied, crestfallen.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re—”

“I know.”

“You’re just so…”

Wendy grinned. “I know!”

Janet forced herself to calm down. She really wasn’t taking this nudity in as much stride as befitted someone with an internet connection. And she had to be in control, had to be the one with the power. For Wendy as well as for herself. It was what the girl wanted from her, after all.

“I want you to hold the coat open,” Janet stated, her words coming out of her like they were delivered by conveyer belt.

“I am.”

“No. Not like that.” Janet went to her. She took Wendy’s hands, moving them to the lapels of her coat, and had her hold it apart just so, the lines of it falling like a cape over the outer curves of her breasts. Her breasts full, but not oversized, overstated, just perfectly becoming to her body, to her sexuality, to her—get a grip, Lace.

“Like this,” Janet finished, squeezing her hands to tighten Wendy’s own grip on the lapels. “Don’t let go. And don’t move.”

Wendy helplessly cracked a grin before affecting a look of solemn submission. Her eyes couldn’t help but sparkle with excitement though. “Certainly, Ms. Lace.”

“I’m going to see how you like to be touched, Ms. Cedar. I’m very curious to find out. But I can only do that if you follow the rules.”

“Don’t let go. Don’t move.”

Wendy nodded, and Janet could see her having to stop herself from doing it more than once. “Got it.”

“One other thing.” Janet cupped Wendy’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. “You’re not allowed to be silent. Whatever you feel, you have to let out. In fact…” She insistently tugged downward, pulling Wendy’s mouth open. “You’re not allowed to close that pretty little mouth. Should be a familiar sensation for you.”

“Yes, Ms. Cedar,” Wendy said, sneaking another grin before parting her lips again.

God, Janet wanted to touch her breasts. They were right there, Wendy was literally offering them to her, and she knew they would be warm and smooth and soft in her hands, but she didn’t know just how warm, how smooth, how soft, and to find out…and Wendy wanted her to find out, too. Wendy had barely been able to wait for the door to be shut for Janet to find out.

But Janet wasn’t sure if that was what Wendy needed. Because Wendy wasn’t a sex toy, wasn’t a bitch in heat, wasn’t any of those things she might play at being. She was a young woman on her wedding night, even if that wasn’t the right word anymore, wasn’t even a thing anymore. She needed to know she was beautiful. No, she already knew. She needed to feel it.

Janet raised her hand and stroked Wendy’s face, feeling the sleek curve that led irresistibly from a high cheekbone and down the apple of her cheek, down to the strong curve of her jaw. There was warmth, a slight glimmer of sweat, a thrum of blood that she could just barely feel. It reminded Janet of a beach at night. Everything soft and smooth and secret.

“Oh,” Wendy said, looking chagrinned with herself for responding already, to something so innocuous, but Janet nodded. She cupped her face in her hands, and leaned in and was kissing Wendy before she even realized it. It was as easy as slipping into warm water.

She could’ve sworn she felt the flush in Wendy’s cheeks warming her palms, the blood of her throbbing hard enough to rattle down Janet’s arms, and Janet kissed her again, again, Wendy’s lips clinging to hers as if they didn’t want to let go, Wendy continuously returning to Janet’s lips almost before she could kiss her again, a soft panting behind every parted lip. The only thing that stopped Janet from devouring Wendy was a sweetly whispered word breaking against her lips.

“Janet.” Wendy was almost whimpering. “If you keep doing that I’ll let go of the coat.”

Janet stayed there, inches from her, frozen with her, and saw Wendy shake as her words drifted against wet lips. “You’re not allowed to let go of the coat.”

Wendy gulped. “Then don’t make me so horny I want to hump your goddamn leg…Ms. Lace.”

The last words were not an afterthought.

Janet smirked. “I think you’re going to want to hump my leg a lot, Ms. Cedar. It’d be best if you got used to it.”

Janet reached for the hollow of Wendy’s throat—it looked so vulnerable, so tender, and God how she wanted to feel it inside her hand—but stopped. Curled her thumb and her ring finger and her pinky.