Oh, yeah.” Christie slid her knuckles along Becky’s flat stomach, under the waistband of her shorts, and rubbed gently before working the first button. “Do you wear panties?”
“Uh huh.” Becky undid the next one. “You?”
“No.” The gentle, sliding touch over her belly, down into the open fly of her shorts was making Becky crazy. That Christie didn’t wear anything under her jeans was both unsurprising, for some reason, and terribly exciting Christie moved the zipper of the shorts down, just a little. “I don’t want to rush anything.”
Becky had gone back, momentarily, to the full breast, bending to love them with her mouth. “Mmm.” Christie sighed, “I really love that too.”
Becky was barely listening. She couldn’t get over how the satiny skin seemed to be stretched to bursting under her hands and mouth and yet it gave so easily. She rubbed her face over Christie’s breasts like a cat, marking her territory and learning the taste, scent and feel of her lover at the same time.
She could make love to Christie and then never see her again and her memory would always keep those sensations fresh. She hoped, in one small rational part of her brain, that making love with Christie would be a continuing pleasure, but she wasn’t going to worry about it. “Beck, come up here, I want to kiss you again.”
