Sex scenes are bookended with "~~~" for those uninterested in plot. For those interested in plot, I don't recommend this continuation chapter as a standalone piece.
It's been a while - my fault and I am sorry - since the last My GF chapter. As a brief reminder, the story is told in binal narration by a couple, alternating in timeline between their present relationship and their initial falling in love five months earlier. We lead off where we left off, with Kay's present. Her past will follow the first "^^^" break, then Jenny's present.
Please enjoy!
*
"Since Nic already has you all hot and bothered, let's see if we can slip these right inside you?" I ask, eager to play with my new toys. Mistake.
Kneeling in front of my girlfriend in a secluded bedroom at Dr. Hartford's house, her jeans partially pulled down, I watch her face fall because I mentioned her having the hots for Nic again. My heart falls with her as I realize what a clanger I dropped. Her hurting kills the mood for me, so I stop until we can get back on the same page.
I'm honestly not offended that she's attracted to Nic. You'd have to be numb from the waist down and brain dead to not have the hots for Nic, especially when she wants to be wanted.
Although her attraction to, flirting with, or even being physical with another woman isn't a major concern for me, clearly it bothers her. She's an extremely loyal and considerate individual and any perceived failure in devotion could throw her into a guilt cycle.
My girlfriend isn't a casual fling to me, not a woman whose worries simply need to be quelled before I can get her clothes off for more fun. I've been with Jenny for five months now. I plan to be with her for the next fifty years.
Her
feelings matter.
"Pretty girl, I told you, I'm fine with you being turned on by Nic, especially when you just watched her go down on Dr. Hartford. There's nothing wrong with it."
"It doesn't make me a," she continues in a whisper, "...slut?"
"No." I answer "no" reflexively anytime she puts herself down, but the idea that my inculpable girl could be considered a slut is laughable, especially given my own track record as a contrast. ("Slut" doesn't adequately cover me apparently, as one night my friends unanimously agreed that "Lesbian Manwhore Equivalent" best described my habits.) But now was not a moment for laughter, not with how seriously she doubts herself. "You are not a slut."
"Why not?"
Again I answer impulsively, "Nic, beyond being objectively attractive, is sweet, protective, and tender with you. Those are qualities that attract you to me, too, right? It's understandable."
"But, I also find other women hot? Strangers, even."
I sigh, realizing that I've painted myself into a corner. At some point, some fuckwit in her formative years - well-meaning or no - convinced her that any lust she feels for any person - male, female, or committed partner - is intrinsically wrong. Our friends, her shrink, and I especially have all consistently asserted against that deeply ingrained belief, but it's slow going.
"That's perfectly natural, too. You're a healthy young woman with an active sex drive. It'd be much odder if you weren't turned on by other women. And it's not like it's a new phenomenon." I rest my chin on her knee and look up at her blushing face. "Have we ever gotten through a single episode of
Valkyrie Drive
without me having to pause the show so I could 'turn you into a sword?'"
She shakes her head and smiles at the memories of us stopping the anime series repeatedly for our own sexual intermissions.
I don't understand the
yuri
appeal myself, but it's cute on her and I cheerfully exploit it. So
yuri
-themed manga and anime are regularly added to the media in her geek cave and I have a better working knowledge of that girl-girl genre than I should.
"It's the same concept with real women, Kitten. Aspects of a particular woman or the details around her will cause a physical reaction or mental fantasies. It's okay. It doesn't mean that you love me any less or that you've done or felt anything wrong."
She nods, maybe not fully convinced herself, but at least secure in the knowledge that I don't think she's in the wrong. I decide to quit while I'm as close to ahead as I'm likely to get. I'll consult the girls later for what I should have said.
"Now, do you wanna see if I can make you go Extar?"
"Here?" She glances around the empty bedroom. I lay my head on the inside of her jean-clad thigh and smile up at her. She glances back down at me, dubious. "But everyone's downstairs. They could hear us?"
She means they could hear her. I'm pretty shameless and she knows it.
"Suit yourself, little Miss Tokonome." I wink at her from between her legs and pat the remote for the vibrators that's stashed in one of the inside pockets of my leather jacket. "But this will be your only chance before these vibrators are inside you - for hours - making you crazy in public."
Watching her decide how she'll be mildly abashed tickles me. There's no way we'll be heard downstairs, but I can only rarely resist teasing her.
"Could you turn on some music? Or maybe gag me?"
"You know I won't gag you, Sweetness." I walk over to the nightstand and plug my phone into the speakers sitting there. "And don't you think if I turn on music loud enough to drown out the noise I'm about to make you make, they might guess that I'm up here making you scream?"
"Oh." She frowns a bit at that, but she's already laying back on the bed waiting for me to finish undressing her. Turning down the sex outright doesn't seem to cross her mind as a viable option. "Could, um, maybe..."
I turn on Joss Stone singing "Put Your Hands on Me" on my iPhone and find a tube of LELO personal moisturizer in the nightstand drawer. Dr. Hartford is an extremely considerate hostess.
The lube and the new attached vibrating toys I lay strategically near the foot of the bed, far enough to the side that they won't get knocked off in the excitement, but close enough to the center to be readily at hand when I want them again for her.
Smoothly, I cross back over to the bed and cover her with my body. She noses up into my hair as it falls down on her and I whisper reassuringly to my darling.
"They won't be able to hear us downstairs, my little worrywart." I'm done idly teasing her to make her squirm. Nothing I'll be doing over the next few minutes should be teasing or idle. "Now, this next part will be more fun with your clothes off."