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A Philosophical Anthology of Fucking

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Katya’s house is nestled on a hill, back garage dug inside and front door found up a plethora of steps. She bought it fresh from landing her current job, six books published and dreams of settling down awkwardly coming to the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t thought about a steady relationship at any length until she had her own house to fill, a big house with dark, wood-paneled walls and low ceilings, filled with nice furniture she could suddenly afford.

And now Trixie is going to be in it, sitting on her couch and looking out the windows in her living room, naked in her bed and drinking coffee at the kitchen table in the morning. Katya thinks it’ll be a nice change from the lonely nights she’s been used to.

Katya doesn’t know if she should decorate for Christmas, if Trixie would rather her house be warm and inviting for the holidays or if she would be okay with Katya skipping it like she usually does. She’s visiting family anyways, on Christmas day, and it would be easier if she didn’t have to decorate. She hardly sees the point in it, but she texts Trixie anyways, as she’s opening the creaky door to the spare bedroom to dig out the boxes of decorations.

She sits staring at them, on the couch, as they rest, covered in dust, on the carpet. She’s going to waste her Saturday hours putting up garlands and strategically placing candles, shuffling books back to bookshelves and dusting the entire place. She opens the box and immediately sneezes at the dust, but she can’t help herself from smiling a little at the ornaments that are wrapped in tissue and the melted candles that she lights every few years above the fireplace.

If you don’t buy me a tree what’s the point in me coming !

Katya snorts at the text, rolls her eyes as she carefully unwraps the items and places them on the coffee table. Trixie has become high-maintenance faster than Katya had ever expected her to, but her heart threatens to burst at Trixie’s familiar jargon, how she can hear her laugh through the typed letters.

She’s getting a tree, a decent-sized one, a real one, just for Trixie to gawk at. She doesn’t see why not. She likes the idea of Trixie’s naked skin in the light of it, snow falling gently out the big windows, the inevitability that her neighbors would see them. God, she’s hopeless. She can hear Ginger laughing at her across town.

Sure thing. I’m making the house pretty for you.

- - -

Katya drives to the airport in her Cadillac, Ginger’s husband’s old car that she hardly understands how they could justify giving away and upgrading. It runs perfectly, and if Katya took the time to learn about cars she’s sure she would find it pristine on the inside and out. She doesn’t do much with it, doesn’t drive much of anywhere outside of Boston.

It’s snowing lightly as she pulls up to the designated pickup spot Katya had relayed to Trixie over the phone multiple times. Sure enough, Trixie is waiting patiently under the awning with the snow blowing around her, hair ten times bigger than any flight calls for and earmuffs bright pink, matching with her puffy, hot pink coat.

Katya can’t contain her excitement as Trixie practically skips up to the car, rolling her suitcase behind her in the snow. Katya pops the trunk so she can stuff it inside, and then she’s climbing into the car in her ankle-high tan Sorrells, pulling Katya’s jaw in with a freezing, red hand and kissing her. Her bright pink lipstick comes off on Katya’s lips, and she takes the time to pinch Trixie’s cheek in retaliation.

“Hey,” Trixie says, as she pulls back and buckles up, seatbelt scraping against her jacket and settling between her breasts. Katya wants to unzip her, she’s almost certain that she’s wearing a pink sweater underneath. All of the matching clothing is making her insane, her eyes boggle at Trixie’s thighs in those same bell bottoms she had worn the first night, on Katya’s own passenger seat. The bells of them are stuffed into the boots so they wrinkle, and Katya wants to pull them out and push the jeans up, kiss Trixie’s pale knees.

“Hi, honey.” Trixie giggles at the pet name and kisses Katya’s cheek as she turns around, begins driving back the way she came, all the way to her home, where she carries Trixie’s suitcase into the front room.

Trixie makes herself comfortable immediately, shuffling around to fold her clothes up and leave them in a drawer in Katya’s bedroom, puts her lotion and makeup on the bathroom counter. Katya makes coffee, warms some bakery items and sets them out at the long table in her dining room, setting Trixie’s spot to be at the head and Katya beside her. When Trixie is all settled, she joins Katya at the table to eat.

She yanks a croissant apart with her soft fingers, chews as Katya tells her he schedule for the next few days.

“I have one class in a couple hours, then I’m all yours this weekend. I’m taking you to campus, too,” Katya says. Trixie smirks, takes Katya’s hand in her own and kisses each of her five fingertips. Katya’s thighs turn to water, and Trixie turns her hand to kiss her inner wrist. “I’m so glad you came.”

“I am too. I’m glad you convinced me,” Trixie whispers. Katya sighs quickly out of her nose, cups Trixie’s chubby cheek with the hand unoccupied with Trixie’s mouth, kisses her on her elegant lips.

Trixie makes wonderful humming noises, half giggles that keep Katya’s stomach digging into the edge of the table painfully. Katya props her elbows and scoots them closer to Trixie, slides her arm up Trixie’s back and her hand over her shoulder. Trixie’s tongue tastes like butter, and Katya’s nose scrapes across her pink cheek as their lips disconnect and Katya brings her lips to Trixie’s ear.

“Do you want to go out for dinner?” Katya asks, whispers into Trixie’s ear. She punctuates it with a kiss to her earlobe, around the dainty gold hoop. Trixie shivers, laughs sweetly, and shakes her head.

“I want to stay here, with you,” she replies. Katya’s spine tingles sharply, and her hands pull Trixie closer of their own volition. Trixie hiccups in surprise, and Katya loses her nerve, stands and pulls Trixie up and shoves her hand down those tight blue jeans, grips the zipper and button, guides Trixie to her bed.

Trixie’s hair is falling all across her face by the time Katya sets her down on the unmade sheets- her cheeks are redder, her knees are turning in and her hands are spread out from her body.

“Kiss me, please Katya,” Katya snorts, pulls her black sweater from her body. She’s braless, and Trixie hiccups again, giggles at how Katya scratches her head before climbing onto the bed atop Trixie.

Katya kisses her, and Trixie’s lips are cold compared to the heat of her hip warming Katya’s inner thigh. Katya kisses her slowly, slow enough that Trixie’s hiccups go away, slow enough that Trixie falls back against the pillow gently, eyes closing completely, hands going to Katya’s hair to muss it, pulling her fingers through the greys at her temples.

“God, I’ve wanted you so bad,” Trixie says honestly, as she gently cups Katya’s breasts in her warm palms. Katya hisses as she squeezes, and releases. Katya kisses her three times on the cheek, takes Trixie’s hand to suck on her middle fingertip.

Sweat is beading across Trixie’s hairline, and the blush on her forehead is sparkling with it. Her peach eyeshadow is smearing sparkles down her tiny smile lines- lighting up her already glowing skin. Katya momentarily imagines her pregnant.

- - -

“You can certainly come with me if you want.” Trixie is sitting on the end of her bed, in her cream lace bra and thong, hair drying down her back. She smells like Katya’s soap, and the way it mixes with her natural scent, seeming like years and years of perfumes living in her skin, makes Katya dizzy. Her own masculine, drugstore soap all over Trixie’s soft body is making her hip swing towards her, but she stays in the doorway in her sweater and black jeans, grips the doorframe with a careless hand.

“I will,” Trixie smiles wide. Katya can’t help but smirk back, and Trixie stands to bounce to her suitcase, pick out a pair of bell bottoms and a pink button up, a pink fuzzy sweater pulled over it. Katya stays in the door to the bedroom, watches Trixie place a manicured hand on the wood-paneled wall as she pulls up the pants and tucks her shirt in, slides a belt through the belt loops.

It seems like Trixie’s accent is more pronounced in Boston, or maybe Katya’s accent is less noticeable in Boston. Either way, Trixie’s sweet southern drawl is more articulated, more achey in Katya’s bed and louder in public. Katya has a perverse thrill imagining her sitting in on one of her classes.

“I won’t do my hair, unless…” Trixie runs her fingers through her drying curls. She’s applying mascara with her other hand, switching to her pink lipstick once she’s finished, smearing a generous portion on each soft cheek for blush. “Unless you don’t think it’ll be distracting, or like you’ll have to introduce me.”

Katya finds herself smiling fondly and for long enough that her cheeks have begun to ache. Trixie is sliding on one ring, the thin silver band with the green butterfly on it. It looks like she bought it out of a machine. Katya bets that it’ll leave a green tinge on her pale skin when she takes it off, once they return home. Trixie picks up a sparkling white pencil and begins tracing her waterline.

“Only one big lecture today, you can slide right in unnoticed. Plus, gender theory students aren’t always exactly. Well, aren’t ever subtle themselves, I’ll say,” Katya says. Trixie nods, finishes covering a pimple right beneath her dimpled cheekbone and turns to grin at Katya.

“I’ll fix it up, then.” And Katya sits on the bed and watches as she recklessly teases the underside of her hair, so that it grows and grows with her natural curls, and she ties a pink ribbon around half of it, into a bow at the back of her head. She stands to face Katya, holds out her hands. Her breasts jiggle in her soft sweater.

“Pretty?” She asks breathlessly. Katya bites her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning any wider. It doesn’t do much, and she feels her cheeks heat. Trixie turns in a slow circle, pops her hip when her back is to Katya.

“Come here,” Katya says. Trixie turns back around and eagerly steps forward so that she’s between Katya’s wide-spread legs, and Katya slips her arms around her waist and tugs her forward so that her knees give out, so that she falls a little on Katya’s chest, her big breasts cushioning both of them. “Yeah. Beautiful.”

Katya sticks her face into the curls at her temple, breathes deeply to inhale as much of her as she possibly can, brings her hands down to Trixie’s massive ass and digs her fingers in so that Trixie squeals against her cheek.

“You are going to ruin my hair!” She laughs, and Katya releases her regretfully, kissing her on the cheek.

“I won’t. Let’s head out,” Katya leads the way to the front door, where Trixie slips on some less-utilitarian pink Uggs, the kind that are bent over to show the fur, just peeking beneath her wide flares. They hop into the car, and Trixie fiddles in her pink purse the whole way there, pulling out a pair of soft brown leather gloves that look very expensive. Katya wonders when she got them, or from whom. They seem old, possibly vintage. Trixie’s sense of fashion is almost laughable compared to Katya’s singular statement red coat. It sends a thrill through her chest.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m hoping to let us all out a half hour early if we can get through this lecture- Let’s start break a little early, yeah?” Katya winks up to Trixie in the far back row as she sets her laptop up to begin the powerpoint, and finds herself looking to her throughout. She fidgets in her seat, and Katya likes to watch her as her brow furrows, and when she rolls her eyes as Katya makes a stupid joke.

She hangs back as Katya’s students wish her a happy winter break, and comes up to the podium once Katya has finished saying goodbye to the entire hundred of them, answering whatever questions about the final they have left. She’s surprised to find that some of her students have left little gifts on her desk, along with the two finals that have been turned into her early. Some cookies, a few cards. Trixie leans over the table with a shy smile.

“You’re a hot mama. The professor of my dreams,” she giggles. Katya rolls her eyes, crosses around the edge to meet Trixie’s body, takes her purse, and holds her hand on their walk out of the now near-empty building, all the way out to the car.

- - -

“Katya?” Trixie’s arm is outstretched, and Katya takes her cool hand, yanks her forward so that she falls onto Katya on the couch. She looks beautiful in the rainbow light of the tree, her skin moving with it like a body of water. Her pink nightgown is see-through, and Katya places her face right between her breasts, takes a deep breath and kisses her chest before moving her lips along to suck on a warm, brown nipple through the thin silk.

“Oh,” Trixie sighs. Katya takes her hips in hand and settles her more on her lap, and Trixie grabs hold of the wrists of Katya’s gray longsleeve Hanes tee, sticks her toes under Katya’s knees in her flannel pajama pants. Katya bites down, twists Trixie’s nipple the tiniest bit, so that she gasps again, releases Katya’s shirt and grips her hair instead, twisting her fingers through the thick gray-blonde strands.

She scratches the back of Katya’s head where her hair is buzzed shorter, yanks at the top of her head at her part so Katya opens her mouth wide and digs her teeth into the soft skin of Trixie’s breast.

Katya moves a hand from her hip and squeezes as much of her other breast as she can hold between her fingers. She can smell Trixie, how wet she is between them, grinding down on Katya’s thigh in her pajamas. Katya’s eyes are wide open, watching the curve of Trixie’s breasts and the delicious difference in color between the flimsy silk nightgown and the skin of her chest. She watches her breath rise and fall, and her vision is stained pink from the light of the tree and the colors of Trixie’s body.

Katya doesn’t know, in this moment, why she doesn’t buy a tree every single year. It smells wonderful, almost overwhelming her when she enters the room, and the color of the lights are irresistibly beautiful.

“You’re too beautiful,” Katya whispers as she pulls away. She’s left a dark spot of saliva around Trixie’s hard nipple in the silk, and she moves her face to the other breast and her fingers to the now-cold silk, pinching her nipple as she bites the other. Trixie sobs, pushes her chest up into Katya’s touch, and her hair falls out of the teased ponytail she’s had it in since she arrived, not an hour ago to Katya’s house.

Katya can’t see past the window, when she pulls back to squeeze both of Trixie’s breasts in her hands. Trixie moves to do the same, digs one hand past the tie of her pants and scrapes her nails against her stomach, making her skin blossom in goosebumps and her hips jerk upwards to meet her palm. It’s pitch black outside, but for the snow that she can see falling through the window in the reach of the light of the tree.

“I think you’re so hot. I would move to Boston for you. I’m smitten,” Trixie giggles. Katya grunts, grips Trixie’s ass in both hands, pulls her up so that their chests are squished together. “Let’s fuck.”

Katya laughs, kisses her as sloppily as she will allow, and rocks her from side-to-side.

She slips two fingers inside Trixie no problem at all- Trixie is soaking wet from what Katya imagines has been a long day. She’s been writhing in her seat as Katya showered and they ate dinner, pizza Katya ordered an hour ago. Katya relishes in how burning hot she is inside, how as Katya fingers her she is dripping onto Katya’s thigh.

“Katya, can I stay forever? You are so romantic,” Trixie’s laugh twinkles in Katya’s ears. She shuts her up by releasing her ass, bringing two fingers to her lips. Trixie takes them in without complaint, eyelids going heavy, eyelashes flashing. “Mmmm.”

Katya nods, gently glides across her clit with her thumb so that Trixie’s lowered eyes glisten with tears. She’s holding herself up desperately with both hands on Katya’s shoulders, her hips twitching back and forth, side to side, Katya fingers curling and uncurling, gently tapping her clit again.

Katya likes to fuck her unevenly, with little intervals of pleasure and some seconds of nothingness, just to get her whining and crying out for Katya to give her more, as much as she’s able to give. Katya likes to provide, but then take away, because she knows that it’s all the better for Trixie if she’s re-introduced to the feeling of Katya’s thumb on her clit after she’s been pining after it for a while.

“More,” Trixie says, almost on cue. Katya laughs, kisses her forehead where her curls are falling.

“Okay,” Katya responds after a minute of silence. Trixie huffs, allows Katya to lift her up and spread her body the length of the couch. She squishes up beside her, and makes out with her like a teenager, tongue lathing against Trixie’s teeth, kissing her chastely between long, sweeping, almost embarrassing French kisses. “Trixie.”

“Mhm. Katya,” Trixie mumbles back. Katya’s eyes roll back as Trixie’s soft fingers rub over her clit, through her pajama pants. “Yes.”

Katya closes her eyes but can’t keep them shut- Trixie’s smell, her heavy breathing beside her keeps her alert and buzzing from head to toe. She feels like she’s moving in a dream, hands covered in Trixie, Trixie’s fingers cold on her waistband. Katya is hot all over, cold where Trixie isn’t on top of her, squirming when Trixie slips freezing fingers between her soaking lips, slipping around over her clit.

“Can you. Katya, one more,” Trixie huffs. Katya feels less coordinated than she ever has before, while fucking, that is. She feels completely out of her element but also that she’s never chased after pleasure with someone with so little care for how she may have looked for them, or if she was fucking them how they wanted- Trixie is so open, so honest about how she wants Katya’s fingers to move. Katya adds another finger to Trixie’s wet opening.

Trixie cries as she pushes in, sobbing tiny hiccups. Katya kisses her through it, and Trixie kisses her back as she calls out through open lips. Trixie comes with Katya’s other hand on her cheek, kissing her jaw, and Katya pushes her down shamelessly, so that she puts her mouth between her legs.

“I dreamt about this,” Katya groans. Trixie is crying real tears now, and laughing into her, kissing her thighs as she keeps pulling back momentarily, to breathe. Her eyes are screwed shut. Her tongue works across Katya’s clit, and the pleasure is building up so heavy in Katya’s pelvis that she feels as if she’s about to explode, spontaneously combust. Trixie’s hair is frizzing to both sides, and Katya reaches down to smooth it gently, to cup her face beneath it. And Trixie twists her tongue and Katya comes down from the highest peak, to lie with her in the dark, with the wide window and glowing tree before them.