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A Massage and a Ride

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Even before coming into Jazmín’s home, Florencia knew Jazmín’s had had one of those days at the hotel. When she used her key -the key Jazmín had given her five weeks ago- to open the front door, the pungent smell of paint mixed with the sweetness of baked goods greeted her. One or the other meant Jazmín was in a good mood. Both meant she wasn’t feeling great.

Both and what Flor saw next meant she was at the end of her rope.

A complete and utter mess, that’s what she saw. Jazmín’s heavy boots right by the door; her flour-covered uniform shirt in a heap on the living room floor; the easel displaying a blank canvas; a half-finished painting resting on the couch; four thick blobs of blue, red, and white paint in front of the dining room table; three trays of cooling croissants resting on the coffee table; a thick novel resting upside down on the kitchen counter; her cellphone on top of her backpack by the stairs.

If Florencia hadn’t spent the better part of the day at a hospitality conference with Carla, she was sure Jazmín would have gone to her to relieve the tension she was feeling. She knew it without a doubt because that was what Jazmín had been doing ever since the bulk of the kitchen work in the hotel had fallen on her shoulders.

Ever since Javo had left the hotel, and had broken Vir’s heart like an asshole, Jazmín was the lone chef in the hotel. All the endless problems and decisions were her responsibility: planning the menu every day, which usually involved a minor argument with Carla; planning the catering for the many events Lucía brought to the hotel, which also involved a minor argument with Carla; doing most of the cooking every single day because Federico was near useless in the kitchen and Flor herself could only do so much; organizing breakfast, lunch, and dinner while Fede usually abandoned her to have an adventure with Miranda as if neither of them had any responsibilities to attend. Sometimes, she even took care of the bar, because Fede worked little to no overtime, not even after Florencia had slyly offered to pay him double just to lessen Jazmín’s burden. He had said he didn’t care about money before giving her that annoying shit-eating grin of his and Florencia had wanted to shove a silver spoon up his ass. But hadn’t.

It was absolutely ridiculous. It was unfair how Jazmín did so much for them, without asking anything in return and they took and took, forgetting Jazmín was human. Flesh and blood and sheer confidence, but just a woman nonetheless. A woman who despite how exhausted she was always had time for Flor, always had time for a cup of tea and a talk and a hug, even when the day lacked enough for her to work and had time for herself. A woman who worked day in and day out in the hotel which didn’t deserve her, for them, for Flor. She always did so much for Flor, always taking care of her, helping her, loving her. And she wanted nothing in return, not even a ‘thank you’.

“That’s fucking it,” Florencia said, leaving her overnight bag on the floor. First thing in the morning, she was going to gift Federico a new asshole and give Miranda a talking-to. They were taking advantage of Jazmín’s generosity, and as Jazmín’s—something—, Flor would not let them, or anyone else, get away with mistreating her. Not anymore. Not ever again.

Making a beeline for the upstairs bathroom, Florencia found Jaz soaking in the bathtub. What a sight she was: her hair in a tight bun, her eyes closed so tightly it seemed like she was trying to scold the stress away, the tub overflowing with bubbles, and one finger tapping the side of the tub as if she was tired of waiting. Only Jazmín could be annoyed at the relaxation that would not come. Sometimes, Florencia thought no one had taken the time to show her how to unburden herself of worries and stress with love and care. It was always a fury of activity with Jazmín: working out, painting, running, cooking. Always doing something, anything, to occupy her mind until her worries suffocated under the weight of her exhaustion. Knowing as little as she did about Jazmín’s emotionally detached father, who always made plans to meet her but never followed through, and her mother who had abandoned her when she was merely three years old, Flor knew that was exactly the problem. No one had loved Jazmín enough to pamper her and spoil her, to soothe away the stress with tenderness, to love her until the hard day became a distant memory. No one until Florencia. She loved Jaz more than enough. She loved Jaz enough to make up for all the times she had not been loved right.

She would always love Jazmín the right way.

“Hard day?” Florencia said as a greeting when she stepped in the bathroom.

“I’m going to kill Fede,” was all Jazmín said, eyes still closed. Her lips twisted into a deep frown. She might not have been joking.

“Can you kill him after I get a kiss?” Florencia said, sitting on the edge of the tub.

Jazmín let out a chuckle, her shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit. “Of course.”

Florencia met her halfway, letting Jazmín join their lips in a firm kiss. Her usually soft and pliable mouth was tense. Too tense. She could fix that, one kiss at a time.

As soon as Jazmín broke the kiss, Florencia chased her mouth and kissed her firmly before tenderly rubbing their lips together, their breath mingling as Flor’s tongue traced her bottom lip. Tonight, she was going to kiss her right, just how Jazmín needed to be kissed: gently, slowly, and thoroughly. She kissed her over and over again, releasing Jazmín’s lips for just one moment, long enough to feel the heat between growing as her mouth drank her in, her lips stealing all the stress and tension. One of her hands sneaked over to the back of Jaz’s head to hold her in place as her fingers played with the few stray strands of hair, while the other moved up and down Jazmín’s back: from the base of her neck to the spot between her shoulders, nearly dipping her fingers into the water. The tight muscles relaxed with every caress, with every kiss, until Jazmín’s head lolled back and forth, following the rhythm of Florencia’s fingers on her scalp. She deposited short, sweet kisses on Jazmín’s lips, and when she felt her let out a long sigh, Florencia’s tongue teased her mouth open. She kissed her deeply and sweetly; she kissed her until Jaz’s mouth was open with desire and need, and then kept kissing her. She kissed until they were the only two people on earth until there was no hotel demanding Flor’s attention, no kitchen sucking every bit of Jaz’s energy, no demanding guests or sisters, no selfish family, no broken relationships. Only Florencia and Jazmín as it was meant to be from the moment they met in the lobby.

Breaking the kiss, Florencia breathed in the perfume of jasmine and vanilla. Sweet, soft, and dizzying, just like Jazmín herself. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jaz still had her own closed, her pink lips still slightly puckered, her neck stretched out, a single strand of hair grazing her bubbly water. If only she could capture this moment in a bottle and keep it by her bed forever, instead, her heart would do.

“What did he do?”

“Piss me off,” was all Jazmín said before kissing her again. Her mouth wasn’t tense anymore. It wasn’t soft either. It was hot, open, and demanding.

“Do you want me to fire him?” Florencia asked, breaking the kiss. “Because I swear I will do it.” She undid Jazmín’s bun as she spoke.

“I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Jazmín said, nearly pouting when she could not quite reach Florencia to kiss her again.

“Don’t worry. So should I fire him or not?” Florencia twisted Jaz’s hair into a loose bun. That should be much better.

“Oh, that’s better.” Opening her eyes, Jazmín gave Flor a grateful smile, her lips painted with Florencia’s lipstick, her eyes painted with her love. Those were the most beautiful eyes Florencia had ever seen, always so full of gentleness and humor. The green of eyes was the only home Florencia had ever known. In those eyes, Florencia had lost herself many times, and found herself many more.

“Much better?”

“Much, much better. Gimme a kiss,” Jazmín said, grabbing Florencia by the shoulders and nearly dragging her into the bathtub.

“Jazmín!” Florencia laughed and squealed as she barely held onto the rim of the tub.

“Florencia!” Jazmín laughed and answered back with the worst accent Flor had ever heard. Her laughter was the sweetest music after such a long day: loud, uninhibited, contagious, and so melodious Florencia heartbeat sometimes seemed to stop so it was the only sound she could hear. “Come here before I prune.”

Before Florencia could answer back in her own terrible accent, Jazmín’s cell phone rang loudly from the other side of the house.

Jazmín let out an annoyed whine. All the tension Florencia had gotten rid of visibly came back with a vengeance: shoulders tense, jaw clenching, a deep crease forming between her eyebrows. “That’d better not be Federico because I swear to God,” Jazmín grumbled, starting to stand up.

-Self-involved dick! - No, no, stay there. - Shitty barman! - I’ll handle it.” Oh, she would handle it.

“Flor--”

“Seriously, Jaz, I got it. You relax.”

“I can--”

“I’ll be back in two minutes,” she said, quickly kissing Jazmín into silence.

Florencia rushed downstairs, rolling her shoulders as she thought of all the ways in which she could fucking kill Fede. When she answered the phone, it was Miranda greeting her with, “Bunny Buns, I need a huge favor!”

-Rude whore- . It’s Flor, Miru.”

“Ah, we are spending the night in the little love nest with Buns, I see,” Miranda said, her tone teasing. Clearly, she had not picked up Flor’s own less-than-amused tone.

“Right. So what’s up?”

“I ran into some of my old classmates and they told me there’s going to be this amazing party tonight. You know, in that old warehouse by--”

“You’re on front desk duty all night.”

“Leo already said he would take care of that. Leito is an angel like that. He’s not nearly as stressed after he and Trini got together.”

-Two-timing Hobbit- .” Florencia walked from the fridge to the stairs, avoiding any cracks on the tiles.

“But anyway, Fede--”

“Has to work tonight and tomorrow.”

“Right! So I was wondering if Buns--”

“Absolutely not.” Florencia hit her chest three times, demanding the guilt she felt at denying Miru anything to back down.

“Okay. Okay, right. So I hadn’t really said--”

“You want Jazmín to cover -dicks for brains- Fede tomorrow. Tomorrow is her day off.”

“I know that--”

“Well, the answer is no.” Her right shoulder rotated backwards twice.

If Miranda thought she could convince Florencia, she was sadly mistaken. Florencia was a changed woman.

No matter the reason, no matter what her sisters wanted, Florencia always ended up giving in. She had an easy yes. Or she used to. It was the only way she had to apologize for all the horrible things that came out of her mouth. It was the only way she had to make sure she did not drive people away. Until Jazmín. Until she found the one person in the world she did not feel the need to please so they would stay.

Jazmín stayed because she wanted to, because she chose Florencia. Because she loved her.

“Can I talk to Jazmín, Florencia?” That tone was pure Lucía.

-Insisting whore- . No, you cannot.”

Up, down, up, down, backwards, forwards. The usual kink in her shoulder blade started to act up.

“Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? -Self-centered slut- . Are you -scrotum licker- serious?”

“Yeah, keep going with that. Come on, stir that shit,” Miranda said, sounding truly like the woman Florencia sometimes forgot she was: cold, aloof, and fragile.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, pressing Jazmín’s cell phone to her ear. As always, the tics got the better of her. “Sorry, sorry. I’m sorry, Miru.”

A long sigh. “I’m sorry, too. So what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay but Jaz is not. She’s been working so hard, Miru.”

“We’ve all been working hard since Javo left. Fede works the bar and the kitchen all day,” Miranda said, her tone gentle but skeptical. Florencia wondered if Miru forgot that Jazmín wasn’t as strong and untouchable as she made herself appear.

Twirling in place, Florencia said, “She’s doing all on her own. I swear she’s about to collapse.”

“She was fine this afternoon when— Oh.”

“‘Oh’ what?”

“She might have been a little alone in the kitchen today because I sorta might have dragged Fede to a bar to listen to a band for like ten minutes--”

“Miranda!”

“Maybe fifty minutes,” Miranda clarified, making things worse. “Two hours tops.”

What next came out of Florencia’s mouth was half involuntary and half very much not so.

“Okay, okay, okay! I got it,” Miranda said when she found a moment of silence among the flowing curses.

“I can’t fucking believe you left Jaz alone. Again!”

“She said she could handle it,” Miranda said, sounding much younger than her twenty-four years of age.

“Jaz always says she can handle it. Always. You know that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Florencia found herself unmoved. “How many times has Fede taken a few hours off this week?”

“Flor--”

“How many?”

A long moment of silence.

“That many, huh? -Pint-sized traitor! -” No wonder Jazmín wanted to kill him, and no wonder she hadn’t told Flor why. As always, Jazmín was taking care of Flor and of Flor’s relationship with her sisters. Always, even to the detriment of her own health and wellbeing. “No more. This is the last time.”

“I swear we weren’t doing it on purpose. Jazmín just kept… not yelling at us about it. I should have realized it was too much on her plate. Give her the phone, I want to apologize. Fede will also apologize,” she said, the regret palpable in her tone. This was the Miru Florencia had grown to adore.

“Not right now, but thank you.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Just no more last-minute plans that leave Jaz all alone, okay? And no more making her work on her day off,” she finished with a warning. She had to make sure Miranda knew where the line was.

“Pinky swear!”

Florencia laughed. “Through the phone? I can’t see you.”

“Wait,” Miranda said, and then the phone call changed to a video call. “Pinky swear,” she said, holding her pinky in front of the phone, a huge silly grin on her face. She truly looked like the best part of their dad.

“Pinky swear,” Florencia agreed, doing the same. And with that, they said their goodnights. She had done it. She had won.

She had won for Jazmín. Oh, how good it felt.

It always felt good to win, to show the world she was capable. It felt even better to do it for Jazmín, to defend her, to protect her, as her girlfriend should.

My girlfriend. My Jazmín.

Love and adrenaline rushed through Florencia’s, her mind full of images of how she would keep loving Jazmín right: with her mouth, her fingers, her whole body.  Her fingertips were nearly tingling with the memory of Jaz’s body tightening around them when she arrived back to the bathroom. The dark, empty bathroom.

The disappointment she felt when she found Jazmín in the bedroom, fully clothed, was pathetic.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?” Florencia asked, trying so hard to contain the pout threatening to come out.

“I told you I was pruning. I nearly became del Río soup,” Jazmín said, laughing as she flopped on the bed. “See?” She raised her foot in the air, clearly expecting Florencia to check the skin of her toes but all Flor could see was the long stretch of skin, the smoothness of her calves, and the pajama shorts that did so little to cover her thighs.

“You’re exaggerating.” Nonetheless, she walked to the edge of the bed and grabbed Jazmín’s foot, making a show of checking the skin over. Or maybe she wasn’t exaggerating at all, the skin of her heel was a nice preview of what it would look like when Jazmín was ninety. “How long were you soaking?”

“Since the world has been turning,” Jazmín said, twisting her foot free of Florencia’s grip. “What did Miru want?”

“How did you know it was her?”

“It was either her or Fede,” Jazmín said, stretching her arms wide and making a face at the loud pop. “So what did she want?”

“Nothing -fucking liar- .”

Jazmín said nothing, didn’t call out the obvious lie. She simply let out a low hum as she hooked her foot around Florencia’s waist, pulling her forward with one smooth motion. “I’m not mad at Miru,” she said, reaching forward with her hands and Florencia immediately intertwined their fingers.

“You should be. I am.”

“Flor,” Jazmín started with a sigh. The words didn’t need to come out of her mouth, Florencia already knew she would try to reassure her, take some blame, anything so Flor wouldn’t fight with Miranda. “It’s not a big deal. I shouldn’t have let them get away with so much. I thought I could handle it on my own. You don’t need to be mad at Miru.”

“I’m going to be mad anyone who mistreats you,” Florencia answered back. “You’re mine, remember?”

Jazmín’s smile was the sun, the stars, it was the lazy morning kisses they shared every morning, and the words of love they whispered to each other every night. “I remember.”

“And I like taking care of what’s mine.” Florencia brought their hands to her lips and kissed each knuckle three times.

“I love when you take care of me,” Jazmín said. Her voice was soft and gentle, as if she was sharing a secret.

“I want to take care of you now. You didn’t let me in the bathroom,” she finished with a pout.

“I didn’t let you?”

“You left!”

“I had been in the tub for like a year when you got home!” Jazmín said, throwing her head back and laughing, then wincing and jerking her shoulder upwards.

“See? Your back is all tight and sore,” Florencia said. “Let me take care of that. I want to give you a massage.”

“With lotions and oils?” Jazmín asked, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Next time,” Florencia promised, making a mental note to go to the store tomorrow and buy the most expensive products she could find. Jazmín deserved the best.

“I won’t forget,” Jazmín said, quickly giving her a kiss before moving to lay on her stomach.

The first time Florencia had given Jazmín a massage it had been an excuse to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin, to explore her body in a way she couldn’t have done so as a friend and in a way she wasn’t ready for as a woman. Not then. Now, there wasn’t a single part of Jazmín’s body she didn’t know. Every dip, every mole and freckle, every curve was burned into her fingertips and her heart.

This time Jazmín didn’t have to ask if she should take off her shirt, she simply did it and threw it to the side. This time Florencia wasn’t nervous when she settled on her knees next to Jaz and touched her bare skin.

First gentle and slow, she caressed the back she knew so well, the back she so often grabbed with desperation as Jazmín drove her crazy with her fingers or tongue. Her nails leaving red marks as she pleaded and begged for more. Now it was the time for tenderness, not for passion so she rubbed Jaz’s back, heating up the sore muscles to get them ready for a bit more force. Then, she carefully pushed her fingertips with more and more force, finding the stiff spots on the middle of her back and under her shoulder blades. There, where her waist and back met. Hard and tight, the knot had been there for at least a few days. She should have noticed it before. Jazmín had been having a harder time than she had realized. As an apology, she left one single kiss on Jazmín’s bare shoulder, and she was rewarded with a happy hum.

Up and down, from the base of Jazmín’s neck to her lower back. Side to side, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. Slow and steady. A thumb digging into the base of Jaz’s spine won her a low moan, a sound Florencia felt to her core. She did it again. Another moan. And again. And once more, until Jazmín raised her hips and arched her back.

“Is this okay?”

“Harder.” Jazmín let out a deep breath, and Florencia had to remind herself this wasn’t meant to lead to sex. Not this time.

More force, her fingers finding all the knots without mercy.

“Harder…”

It wasn’t about sex. It was about love.

“I can’t from this angle. Can I sit on your legs?”

“Please…”

Oh. Say it again.

Straddling the back of Jazmín’s thighs, Flor found an even better angle. Once again, she worked from the base of Jazmín’s spine to her neck, the force of her movements now shaking their bodies. Forwards and backwards. Up and down.

Say it again.

“There, Flor…” Jazmín’s voice was pure silk. Soft and hot. “Right there.”

Right there was where Florencia focused, digging her thumbs in the muscle, rolling her wrists and shoulders, and her hips to give Jazmín what she needed. Her body had moved up. She wasn’t resting on Jazmín’s legs anymore, she was right on her firm backside. From here, Florencia could easily see Jazmín’s profile, the way she bit her lower lip, her jaw moving side to side slowly as her upper teeth caressed the flesh with the same enthusiasm Florencia’s so often mouth did. Flor’s body moved up and down with Jaz’s every inhale and exhale, with the way her hips tilted up when Florencia touched her just so. Up and against Florencia. Against the legs that were keeping her in place. The muscle of her backside tightening and releasing, and Florencia couldn’t help but pushing again her, just once. Just twice. The curve of her backside fit so well against her, pressed against her so perfectly.

“Lower, please…”

Lower. Hips in place, Florencia moved her fingers lower, tracing every single freckle she found until she reached a spot that won her a hiss of pleasure.

“Harder, Flor…”

Harder. Shifting her hips again, Florencia pushed harder, every knot melting under her hands. The pressure between her legs growing and growing until it was sharp, and hot, and wet.

“There…” A moan more than a word. Mouth open, tongue licking her lips, Jazmín was the picture of relaxation. The picture of pleasure.

There was so much heat between them, between Florencia’s legs, right there where her body met Jazmín’s. Hips rolling forward, Florencia let out her own moan. Too much heat, not enough pressure.

“Again,” Jazmín demanded, one hand reaching back and grabbing Florencia’s backside. Pulling and pulling until Florencia’s hip rolled forward.

“Jaz…” A warning or a plea, Florencia didn’t know what she was saying.

Twisting her head just enough to look at her, green eyes nearly black, Jazmín said, “come on, let me feel you.”

It was something she had thought about so many times, on many nights while they cuddled and spoke in hushed tones as their bodies cooled down. Caressing Jazmín’s naked arms and back, her hands moving lower as she appreciated the firmness of the muscles. It made her wonder how hard those muscles would feel under her, against her when she was so wet.

“Please…” Now Florencia was the one begging as her hips rolled forward. Firm and hard, and perfect against her, that’s how Jazmin felt. Her hips rolling backwards, enticing Florencia to keep going. The pressure was good but she needed more. Mouth open and hungry, Florencia kissed Jazmín’s upper back and the back of her neck, her teeth digging just the sightless bit on her shoulder when Jaz moved against her in just the right way. Her skin tasted so good, it was so hot she could barely breathe. It was fire, burning up, setting them both aflame.

Her clothes were too heavy, too hot. Florencia couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, she needed Jazmín’s skin against her.

Jazmín twisted her upper body around and grabbed the back of Florencia’s head to crash their lips together. Jazmín kissed her with her mouth open, licking at her lips, biting them, sucking them, trying to devour her. More than a kiss, it was a demand. “Take your clothes off,” Jazmín said, releasing Flor’s lips for a moment before giving her a kiss that let Florencia know it wasn’t a request, that Jazmín wasn’t asking or even begging.

Florencia quickly rolled off Jazmín and onto her back to take off everything: shoes dropping on the floor, shirt and pants flying across the room, underwear and bra following them quickly. When she got on her knees ready to help Jazmín, her heart jumped to her throat. Jazmín had taken off her sleeping shorts and underwear and had rolled over onto her stomach again. Florencia had been expecting to sink her tongue on Jazmín’s sex, to lick and suck until she made her come.

Jazmín had other plans.

Looking over her shoulder, Jaz gave her a smile, a knowing look passing through the fire of her eyes. “What are you waiting for?”

How did Jazmín know?

This time, when Florencia straddled Jazmín’s body, she immediately settled onto her backside, hissing at the pressure against her bare sex. Jazmín’s skin was fire, it was hot steel against her sensitive clit, and Florencia had to roll her hips forward. She had to feel her, to ride her.

Everything was focused on that point of contact. She could hardly hear her own beating heart, could hardly notice the moans escaping her throat. Everything was focused on Jazmín, on the strength of her body, of the softness of her skin, of the melody of her sighs and low moans.

Jazmín.

Florencia rested her hands on Jazmín’s back and dragged her folds against her, nearly sobbing at how good it felt. It was too much, and her body demanded more.

Jazmín. Please. “Please, Jaz.”

“That’s it, Flor. That’s it.”

Moaning, panting Florencia rocked her hips, building the pressure, leaving wetness in her wake with every pass of her body. She settled her hands at either side of Jazmín’s shoulder and gave her all she had, thrusting into her, and Jazmín answered back with her own movements, pushing back again and again, her hips rolling and dancing under her. But Florencia needed more. She leaned down and kissed and licked Jazmín’s shoulders. Those shoulders that were so defined and so strong. So many times she held onto them as shattered under Jazmín or sought her strength and comfort. They were her anchor when she was drowning in pleasure and in love.

“I’m close,” Florencia said into Jazmín’s ear before biting it, pulling at her earlobe and making her moan. So close it hurt.

“Me too,” Jazmín answered back in a low moan. She twisted her neck and Florencia gave her the kiss she had asked without words. Jazmín grabbed the back of Flor’s neck and kept their mouths together. Teeth biting and pulling, tongues caressing: a kiss of pure hunger.

Pulling back, Jazmín looked at her, their eyes meeting. There were so many things Flor wanted to tell her, to share with her, but all she could do was to get lost in her eyes, in the sea of green and gold and hazel. The depths of her pupils were endless and Florencia fell into her, in the love she saw there, without fear or regret.

Jazmín traced Flor’s parted lips with two fingers before slipping into her mouth. Florencia sucked and licked them, nipping at her fingertips while she kept rolling her hips harder and faster lost in the green of Jazmín’s eyes, in the golden freckles of love, and the brown spots of warmth.

Releasing Jazmín’s fingers, Florencia gasped out a weak, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Jazmín said, falling back onto the bed. Her wet fingers sneaking under her body to where Florencia couldn’t see them. “I love this,” she said, moaning and Florencia knew she was touching herself, knew she was soaking and dripping. Just like she was.

“Me too. I love having you like this. I love feeling you like this. I’ve wanted this for so long,” Florencia said, the words spilling out as she dragged her clit against Jazmín’s body. Forward and backward. Slow, then fast, and back to slow, following the rhythm of Jazmín’s shoulder and arm,  as if Jaz’s fingers touching her instead, teasing her, circling her clit.

Jazmín laughed and rolled her hips with such force Florencia almost fell off. “I knew you would.”

The pressure built up faster and faster with every thrust of Florencia’s hips, with every moan coming from Jazmín. Faster and hotter, her wetness dripping down the curve of Jazmín’s hips, pure liquid fire branding them both. So hot Florencia’s skin was ablaze everywhere they touched. So hot she had to lean down and drink Jazmín’s skin, kiss her everywhere. Mark her with her teeth, just as Jazmín was marking her with her nails as they dug into her thigh.

So close, so close.

The flexing of Jazmín’s backside against her, the taste of salt on her tongue, the nails biting her skin, it was all too much. Her clit pulsed with every thrust, begging for clemency.

“Yes.” It was the last coherent sound Florencia made. Her back arched, her hips stilled as she pushed forward with everything she had, and then she fell apart as her climax slammed into her. Moans and groans spilling from her lips as fire engulfed her, as the heat spark from her clit to her limbs, her back, up her chest and out her throat. One final moan escaping from her lips before she collapsed on top of Jaz, sweaty and satisfied, and fulfilled.

It had been better than every fantasy she had.

Florencia rolled off Jazmín, giving herself a moment to catch her breath. Her body felt heavy and she could barely keep her eyes open. Then she heard her. Jazmín moaned, long and desperate, wordlessly calling for her, to help her, to make her come. Twisting on the bed, her free hand grasping the sheets with such a force they nearly came off the bed, Jazmín had never looked more beautiful.

Florencia wanted to devour her.

Still panting, she grabbed Jazmín’s hips to still them and dragged her tongue over Jaz’s backside, exactly where she had left a wet trace of her desire. Flor sank her teeth in the hard muscle, smiling at Jazmín’s heavy moan, and then used her hold to make her roll onto her back. Wasting only one second to give her a short kiss, to ask her to relax, to trust Flor would take care of her, Florencia moved between her legs. God, she wanted to taste her. Even her scent made her dizzy. Florencia took a deep breath, inhaling her. That smell was so uniquely her, so Jazmín in a way Florencia couldn’t explain, that it made her mouth water. As slowly as she dared, Florencia dragged her tongue over Jazmín’s folds, from her dripping center to her desperate clit. The low moan she got made her own sex pulse in sympathy and she used her hands to push Jazmín’s legs open, spread wide for her, open to be taken, to be loved, to be fucked.

A high pitched moan let her know Jazmín was nearly there. It wouldn’t be fair to make her wait anymore. Florencia took Jazmín’s clit between her lips and sucked, first carefully and gentle, then harder as Jaz’s buried her fingers in Florencia’s hair, pulling her even closer.

A melody of groans and moans bounced on the bedroom walls. Tilting her head up, Florencia looked over the length of Jazmín’s body and saw pure need. The fingers of one hand twisting and pulling her pink nipple, the harshness of her movements reddening it; her other hand pulled and twisted her hair, a wild splash of red against the pillows; her eyes opened for a moment and looked down her body, unsightly meeting Flor’s gaze and then throwing her head back, rolling her hips upwards.

Beautiful.

Nearly there. So close, Florencia could taste it, could taste her, dripping down her tongue and onto her cheeks and chin. Florencia used one hand to force Jazmín’s hips down onto the bed, and the other travel from her stomach to her chest. She raked her nails on Jaz’s abs feeling the skin jump under her fingers. She moved upwards, circling her belly button and then grabbing the steel stud on top of it before gently pulling, making Jaz hiss. Then she kept moving up, caressing her ribcage and the underside of her breasts, before palming one of them. She grabbed the hard nipple between her fingers and twisted and pulled, imitating what Jazmín was still doing to herself. Gently, she wanted to do it gently. And then a little harder, earning herself a hiss of pleasure.

“Flor!” The single word Jazmín could voice. “Flor… Flor! Flor.” Over and over again. Demanding, pleading, begging as the wetness under Florencia’s mouth grew hotter and hotter, an all-consuming fire Florencia had stoked with her mouth.

Florencia loved having her like this. Loved her like this. Wild, uninhibited, out of control.

“Please!”

And most of all, she loved hearing Jazmín beg. This was for Jazmín, and for Florencia. For both of them. This shared pleasure Florencia had craved from the very first time she had buried her tongue inside Jazmín and had seen her fall apart.

She wanted to make Jazmín come.

Fingers twisting Jazmín’s nipple, Florencia licked and sucked her clit, following the furious rhythm of her hips. Harder, faster, and faster, and faster. She twisted her tongue around her clit once, twice, and then sucked it into her mouth.

“Flor, yes!” Jazmín moaned, twisted her hips up, and froze in place. Her whole body trembled as choked sound escaped from her throat. Her back arched until she was nearly off the bed. Jazmín fell apart under Flor’s lips and tongue, her whole world shattering in pleasure, and Florencia guided her the whole way. Her mouth worked gently, passing her tongue from Jaz’s sensitive clit to her entrance, tasting her, taking pleasure with her mouth. Until Jamín’s hips fell on the bed, exhausted and sated.

Florencia kissed her way up Jazmín’s body, nuzzling her stomach, enjoying the way it rose up and down with her every labored breath. Settling in between Jaz’s still spread legs, Florencia lay her hands on Jazmín’s chest and rested her chin on them, gazing at her. A deep sense of pride bloomed in her chest as she felt Jaz’s heartbeat slowing down under her palms. There was no trace of stress in her relaxed brow or in the lazy smile playing on her lips.

They both let out a deep sigh at the same time, making them laugh. Eyes still closed, Jazmín dragged her foot over Florencia’s calf, a lethargic caress of gratitude. Her fingers danced up and down Florencia’s back to her forearms, her nails leaving goosebumps on their wake as their skin cooled down. When one of those hands grazed Flor’s wrist, she had to grab it and bring it to her lips. The scent of Jazmín’s desire still lingering there so she closed her eyes and breathed it in deeply. Flor had to kiss those fingers, had to lick them clean.

“I can’t wait until next time,” Jazmín said. And Florencia had to laugh and nod her head in agreement. It didn’t matter if she meant the massage or making Flor’s fantasy a reality, they would do it again. And it would be perfect.

Feeling observed, Flor opened her eyes and their eyes met. Her heart danced in her chest at all she saw there. No one had ever looked at her like Jazmín. No one had ever seen her, the person not even Florencia thought she could be. But Jazmín saw her, knew her in a way Florencia could barely understand. When she looked into Jazmín’s eyes, the honesty and love shining through left her breathless. Even after all these months, she couldn’t get enough of those eyes, of her. This woman who had opened up her home, her life, her heart for her, and had never asked a single thing in return. This woman who loved her right, even when Florencia didn’t believe she deserved it.

For the first time in her life, Florencia felt worthy of being loved. Felt her own love was worthy of Jazmín. And she would love her right too. Forever.

“Thank you,” Jazmín said in a hushed tone, one single finger tracing Florencia’s messy bangs. Her eyelashes fluttered slowly, heavy with sleep.

Florencia couldn’t voice anything but, “I love you,” before kissing Jazmín with all the love in her soul. Every kiss was the first kiss, every kiss were the first words of love. When they parted, Florencia rolled to her side and helped Jazmín under the sheets and cover.

“Do you want your shirt?” Florencia asked, already looking for it. Jazmín didn’t like sleeping in the nude, even if Florencia herself preferred it.

“I want you to stay here,” Jazmím mumbled, beckoning Florencia back into her arms. As if Florencia could deny her anything.

Their skin slid smoothly against each other as they settled in for the night. Arms and legs intertwined together, Florencia face tucked in under Jazmín’s chin. During the night, Jazmín would roll over to her side, and Florencia would kick the covers off but for now, this was perfect.

Florencia fell asleep to Jazmín’s beating heart, vowing to always love her like this, the sudden image of Jazmín wearing a white wedding dress for her passing through her mind.

It was an unbreakable vow.

 

END.