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Ring My Bell

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Ava is bored. She lies on the floor with her feet up on the couch, taking selfies with Barry. Writing has been put on the back-burner since the special was released. Deborah’s focus now is on press. Ava’s been trying to dedicate more of her time to her own projects but it’s just less fun when Deborah’s not involved. She’s been so busy with interviews and appearances, she hasn’t let Ava fuck her in almost a week. 


She angles her chin up and shows off the skin on her neck. Cleavage might not be her strong suit but she knows how to work with what she’s got. 


The cadence of Deborah’s voice filters through from the other room. It’s light and rhythmic. A little softer than her usual voice. Ava can tell she’s doing an interview. She flicks through the selfies and deletes the ones she looks weird in. 


“What do you think, B-Man?” She turns her phone and the corgi laying next to her whines his approval.


She airdrops the remaining three to Deborah’s iPad. The first one is her smiling next to Barry, the second she’s kissing his cheek, and the third shows a sultry gaze at the camera, her tank top pulled down as far as it’ll go without flashing her tits. 


“And… Sorry, sorry. That’s… just my emailing going off. Where were we?” 


Listening to Deborah’s muffled recovery gives her an idea. She leaves Barry on the floor and wanders through the hall, following the sound of her voice. Deborah’s office door is ajar and she’s sat behind her desk. Her hair is natural and she’s wearing a high-neck baby blue sweater. The light from the window makes her look angelic as she talks into the phone. Ava smiles. 


It was a joke right up until it wasn’t, the first time Deborah let her fuck her. They were laughing and then they’d gone  quiet and Ava had slipped her hand up under Deborah’s dress while they sat side by side on the couch. They’d barely even kissed that time but the sense memory of Deborah’s cunt around her fingers followed Ava around like a lingering dream. 


Good jokes deserve to be repeated, punched up, called back, and restructured. It was framed as a kind of stress relief at first. Ava would get her off just to still some of the nerves. Just a friend lending a hand, so to speak, after a big show or before an important interview. Deborah would give her a look — a heavy and commanding one — and Ava would know what she needed. And it’s not like Deborah’s ever fucked her, so it never really felt like anything more than that. 


Until last night when she’d found herself in Deborah’s room, there simply to enquire about any potential needs she might’ve met, when Deborah had gotten into bed. She was bare-faced and wearing pajamas. Ava had made her laugh in the dim light from her nightstand. They’d gradually sank into the mattress until they were both asleep, despite the fact Ava hadn’t touched her. It felt strangely more intimate that way. 


Deborah hadn’t made a big deal out of it so neither did she. But that didn’t stop the swell of warmth in her chest when she’d woken up wrapped in Deborah’s arms and rolled over to see her tousled hair. 


Her eyes light up when Ava slips into her office. They’ve started doing that recently, creasing at the corners and softening slightly. 


“Okay, great. Yes. Lovely to speak with you too.” She makes a tired face at niceties and Ava smiles. There’s barely a second between her hanging up and her phone ringing again. “Christ,” she mutters, “…Jimmy, hi. Yeah. Well, let's get Marcus in on the call. Yep.”


Ava runs her index finger along the side of her walnut desk, skimming it along the polish, and perches herself on the corner. When Deborah moves her phone to her other ear, she leans forward and kisses her jaw. 


“No, the… She’s filling in for my appearances until June, it’s…” 


She smells like La Mer and perfume and she tilts her head to the side encouragingly. It’s always electrifying when she catches Deb in a reciprocating mood. Their libidos aren’t necessarily compatible; Ava would fuck her all the time if she’d let her. It might be an age thing. Maybe it’s just that Ava can’t seem to get enough of her. 


She wheels Deb’s chair a little closer, her hands at either side of her head. Deborah’s eyes shut and she leans her head back as Ava lets her tongue run along the shell of her ear. 


Deborah is remarkably good at keeping her voice steady. It brings out Ava’s competitive streak. She pulls down the neck of her sweater and kisses her throat. Deborah sighs. 


“No, I’m not annoyed, Marcus. I just don’t think it makes sense to… Yes. Exactly.” 


Ava chuckles as she wheels Deborah’s chair out and swivels it 90 degrees. Deborah’s lips turn into a sly pout, her tongue pushing up into her top lip, as she watches Ava sink to her knees. 


The second time she'd fucked her, Deborah had just come back from an event. It was late and she’d found Ava scrolling on her phone in bed. She’d yanked back the covers, somewhat aggressively, and kissed her before Ava could show any sign of annoyance. Then she’d guided her hand down towards her cunt, her fingers wrapped tightly around Ava’s wrist. Ava still remembers the look on her face when she came; the way she’d zipped her satin pants back up before she left. Ava had fucked herself for an hour after that, her tongue running along the metallic bite mark Deborah had left on her bottom lip. 


The fabric of her sweater is fluffy on Ava’s cheek as she nuzzles her way down. 


“Well, what are they offering?”


Deb smiles and puts her spare hand on Ava’s head. She’s gotten softer around the edges recently. She used to be all nails and teeth. Ava knew exactly what to do and for how long, Deborah made sure of that. But she’s started to relax some now she’s assured of Ava's competency, her boundaries strictly defined. 


There’s room now for a gentle caress of Ava’s hair. Sometimes she’ll stroke her thumb over Ava’s cheek before she kisses her. The last time they did this, she even stuck around to watch Ava get herself off. She’d looked a little dumbstruck by it, her eyes flicking between her flushed cheeks and the rapid movement of her hand, perhaps not realising until then just how affected Ava is by her.


She lifts the bottom of Deborah’s sweater and fiddles with the clasp on her pants. The zipper slides down and sends a zing of vibrations up Ava’s fingers. 


“And how does that compare to the offer HBO made?” 


There isn’t a hint of anything in her voice — she almost sounds bored. Ava pulls back from kissing her stomach and gestures for her to lift her hips. 


Deborah acts like this is a huge inconvenience, rolling her eyes and holding the phone between her head and shoulder, but lifts up regardless. Ava tugs her underwear down with her pants. 


“I don’t want to get into protracted negotiations but… Well, if you think you can get them there…”


Ava’s getting better at learning from her mistakes so she neatly folds Deborah’s pants with a campy extravagance, flicking them straight like a bullfighter. Deborah smiles but Ava can see the hunger there now. Her eyes look stormy and there’s a bit more colour in her cheeks.


She kisses up her thighs, watching Deborah watch her. Them not being able to talk seems to magnify the intimacy of it; they observe each other more intently, communicating through glances and expressions and gestures. She pulls her hips to the front of the chair and lifts one leg until it’s slung over her shoulder. Deborah bites her lip in anticipation. 


Everything smells like sex and expensive chair leather. She takes it slow at first, not wanting to entirely disrupt her call, and licks a line up the side of her labia. Dipping down to where her heat pools feels like sinking into a hot bath. The taste of her fills up her senses, salty and sapid. It makes her mouth water. She runs the flat of her tongue over her and Deborah finally starts to sound affected. 


“Say that… Um, say that again, Jimmy?” 


Ava smiles as her tongue circles her clit. It’s nice to hear Deborah sound unbalanced for once. Her eyes flick up as she closes her lips around her and starts to suck. 


“…Fuck,” she mutters and moves the microphone away from her mouth for a second while she refocuses her breathing. “I’m fine. No, it’s… I’m due back on the QVC schedule then and so… Oh… 2024? Okay…” 


The strain in her voice gives Ava the same sense of pride she gets whenever she makes Deborah laugh. It spurs her on and she gives it her all then. She pulls her hips closer and pushes her tongue inside her until Deborah lets out a muted whine. She swiftly covers it with a cough. 


“That’s really a question for Damien, I’m not sure… Get him on now? No, I…” 


Deb's thigh up against her cheek feels clammy and her face is sticky with Deborah’s moisture. Ava fucking loves it here. She’s never been this hungry for anyone before. The times she isn’t fucking Deborah, she’s thinking about fucking her. Either remembering how she did or planning how she will. She could speculate about Deborah’s sexuality — whether or not she’s simply using Ava — but she honestly doesn’t care either way. She’s just delighted she gets to drown in her like this. 


Deborah moans when she slips a finger inside her. It’s a frail noise. Her fingers tremble against Ava’s scalp as she strokes her hair encouragingly. 


“Sorry. No that was… Barry. …A sponsorship with who? I don’t think that—”


Ava adds another digit; curls her fingers forwards; sucks and laves. It makes Deborah clench around her. 


“—Oh, fuck, Ava,” she groans wholeheartedly and Ava looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, a small line between her eyebrows. Her phone hangs loosely in her hand, the home screen lit up. 


“You didn’t even say bye,” Ava says with a wet smile. 


“Don’t stop,” she snaps impatiently and curls her leg around Ava’s shoulder to pull her back down. 


Ava doesn’t argue. She picks up the pace with her fingers and her tongue follows suit. She watches Deborah from under her eyebrows and thrills at the way her face breaks open with pleasure. 


The muscles in her belly start to tense; her cunt gets tighter around Ava’s fingers; her breaths become quicker, more urgent; her moans get higher in pitch, the desperation seeping out of them. 


Her legs shake when she comes, trembling as the orgasm swirls through her. Ava fucks her through it and doesn’t pull out until she’s stopped twitching around her fingers.


The moment after she’s made Deborah come is always one of her favourites. She likes how messy she looks, in these brief moments, her knees spread and her cheeks flushed. It’s unladylike and Ava gets a kick out of the debauchery. She kisses the neat strip of hair over her mound, trailing them across her pubic bone, over her hip, and her thigh. 


“Well,” she says, “that’s one way of getting me off the phone.” 


Ava smiles and plants a parting kiss above her clit before sitting back on her ankles. “What else am I supposed to do when you’re so busy all the time?” 


There’s a softness in her eyes as she looks down at Ava resting her chin on her knee. “Let’s reserve that for the less important calls, shall we?” 


“You wanna go upstairs?” 


“Yes,” she says decisively as she pets Ava’s head, “but I can’t. I have another interview at two.” 


Ava grumbles and buries her face into the top of her thigh. “You’re killing me here, lady.” 


“What about me? At least you can go and get yourself off. I’m stuck in this room all day.” The words echo around them and Ava blushes at the idea. “Is that what you’re going to do? Go upstairs and touch yourself?” 


Ava feels her cheeks get hot and her limbs feel heavy. “Probably,” she says, wrapping her arms around Deborah’s waist. “Unless you wanna watch?” 


Something like a smile flickers around Deborah's mouth. “Maybe tonight?” She offers. 


“I can’t promise I can wait that long but hey, thank God for multiple orgasms.” 


“I liked the picture,” she says, holding Ava’s face with a palm on her cheek, “but maybe don’t include Barry if you send me any more. I don’t want him getting any ideas. Oh and find a bed, next time? My silk rug is still the floor, honey.” 


Ava has to smile at the convoluted and vaguely patronising request for nudes. “Noted.”


They look at each other for a moment. Ava is happy, she realises. It feels like something she should vocalise but that’s not really their thing so plants a quick, salty kiss on her lips instead. 


“Okay,” Deborah pats her cheek, “you gotta go. I need to get dressed. I don’t think this is what Vanity Fair meant when they requested an intimate and insightful interview.” 


“Now that would be an exposé.” 


Ava holds her underwear out for her and Deborah rolls her eyes but still slips her foot through the hole. 


“I think I can dress myself, thank you. I’m not that old.”


“I know,” Ava smiles and kisses her hip as she pulls her underwear up, “I like helping you.” 


It’s the truth, she realises. She’d never consider herself a stone but she’s yet to find herself craving Deborah’s touch in the same way she craves her body. She just wants to feel her — all the fucking time. It’s her approval she seeks the most; a hand on her cheek; the sounds of pleasure she gets to draw from her; a tender smile; a laugh. 


Deborah fastens her pants and sits back down in her chair, pulling herself closer to her desk. Ava ignores the way the ache in her knees mimics the ache in her cunt as she walks away. 


“I’ll see ya later,” she says from the door, swinging on the frame like she can’t quite pull herself away. Deb’s already slipped her glasses back on and is looking at her laptop screen. It lights her up with a cool hue and Ava wants to rush back over and kiss her face. 


“See you later, sweetie,” she says absentmindedly and Ava thinks she might just burst with adoration.