Touch me, touch me
I want to feel your body
Your heart beat next to mine
Touch me, touch me now
~’Touch Me (I Want Your Body)’ By: Samantha Fox
x-x-x-
Fingers ghost down Kouya’s neck, lips following soon after as they followed the finger’s path. Gasping Kouya tries to keep from crying out, from making a scene as she sits on the bus. But she knows that there are cracks in her will-power, cracks that widen as she feels teeth skim over her flesh, nipping lightly occasionally.
“Y-Yamato.” she whispers while bringing a hand up to the top of her head to check that her ears were still in place. “We’re on the bus. People are watching.” She wants her friend, her partner in so many ways, to stop but at the same time she arches into the touches, wanting more.
Blue eyes scan the bus slowly as Yamato nips at Kouya’s exposed collarbone. It was late at night- the buses on their last run before stopping for the night. Most of the seats are empty, the sleepy passengers scattered throughout the entire vehicle.
“Does it matter,” she whispers while carding fingers through Kouya’s dark hair. Her fingers trace along a black cat ear, as she snickers against her girlfriend’s neck. “Besides I’m sure a couple would love to watch us.” Eyes flick to the seats before her, eyes searing holes into the back of the head of the man before them.
Embarrassment floods Kouya, her cheeks flushing a bright red as she looks off to the side. Dark eyes stare outside the window as she watches the dark town flutter away as the speeding bus travels across the town. Her heart thumps wildly in her chest as she tries to remain calm- tries to not call attention to their small seat (and she thanks the gods above that they had grabbed a frontward facing seat, prying eyes have a harder time to watch).
A tongue flicks out, tracing a wet trail from Kouya’s collarbone up to behind her ear before placing a soft, butterfly light kiss. Lips ghost the shell of her hear before whispering heatedly. “Stay calm and no one will notice. I promise.”
An airy laugh fills the bus as Yamato buries her face into the other girl’s neck, resting her head on the bony shoulder. To the other passengers they looked like the normal best friends. Friends that could lie on each other without a second thought and Kouya tries to keep that thought in her mind as she stares looks around.
Nothing but friends having fun on the way to home.
But somehow she feels her will power crumble a little more (like a brick wall that shatters under a sledgehammer) as she feels a hand brush her chest. Eyes flutter shut as black hair falls onto the low head rest, whimpering Kouya arches her back slightly. The movement is barely visible, but it is enough for the girl’s cheeks to flush violently.
Fingers slowly and teasingly move across Kouya’s chest, making sure to rub and scratch as they travel over a clothed breast. Yamato leans forward slightly to nip at the beautiful neck beside her; teeth dig into the flesh as she rolls her finger over an erect nipple.
“Ah,” Kouya squeaks as the sensation floods her. Cheeks turn a violent crimson red as she tries to keep her head down. She is terrified to look around, even afraid of looking in front of her, afraid that everyone all know what they are doing. And as much as the thought terrifies it, it also arouses her (makes her want more, while wanting to pull away and end the contact).
Legs spread on their own accord as Kouya feels questing fingers slide under her pale yellow sweater to play though the thin fabric of her uniform shirt. Gasping she reaches out, one hand gripping the cheap, plastic seat before her while her left hand slips over to Yamato’s bare leg. The grip tightens as she feels nails brush over her nipple, playfully first then harsher a second time.
Arching again Kouya tries to keep her voice down as she bites on her tongue. Her cheeks are already red, too red to be ignored as she hangs her head down, black hair fanning over her face in a desperate hope to hide from the others.
Fingers deftly work tight, white buttons through their holes (unbuttoning just enough for her to slip her fingers into) as lips drag along the exposed skin before her. Kisses and hot breath rains down on Kouya’s collarbone as she tightens her grip again, her body lurching forward slightly.
Cupping a breast Yamato kneads the mound, fingers sliding along the erect nipple though the cloth of Kouya’s bra as they teasingly tweak the bud. Smiling the blond buries her head into her friend’s sweater before breathing deeply.
“Hey Kouya,” she whispers cheerfully- and Kouya wants to smack her for sounding so happy and light when she is currently trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure. “How much longer do you think? Hmm? Do you think it’ll take us an hour?”
Kouya can hear the hidden message behind that cheery comment as her cheeks blush. As nails scratch against her nipple Kouya lurches forward, knuckles turning white as she tightens her grasp.
How much longer can you go on? How long can you last? An hour?
“No,” Kouya whispers back as her legs spread wider. “I can’t wait.” Embarrassment floods her veins as she feels Yamato switch to her other breast, her hand slipping further into her shirt.
Lights flicker overhead as the bus hits another bump, lurching all of the passengers to the side. Yamato squeezes harshly watching as Kouya arches, a broken moan escaping her mouth.
Black hair trembles as Kouya tries to ignore just how wonderful the working fingers felt. Just how perfect it felt to have Yamato’s fingers tweaking and scratching at her nipple, at how wonderful it was for her partner to knead her breast. At how it feels for the fabric to slide across her aroused body, sending jolts of pleasure across her entire body.
“Oh god.” She whispers. Her mouth falls open as she gasps for much needed air.
Pulling her hand out, Yamato lets it slowly glide down the girl’s body, making sure that the tips of her fingers ghost along the girl’s body, watching as she shudders in delight.
Reaching the hem of her shirt, Yamato slides her hand underneath the white shirt as she lets her hand glide across the soft stomach. A smile flitters across her face as she feels it quiver under her touch. Again she buries her face into that beautiful neck trying to fight the urge to mark it. Instead she kisses the skin softly. Darting out her tongue slides along the girl’s pulse point (which she can feel racing if she presses slightly) before nipping lightly again.
Kouya whimpers as she shifts in her seat, she cannot stand the teasing. Cannot wait for more. But she flushes violently at just thinking of asking…begging…for more.
“Tell me,” Yamato whispers into the other girl’s ear as her hand slowly travels down the navy blue skirt. Fingers slowly drag up the fabric, letting it slide effortlessly over the smooth leg. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
Teeth dig into Kouya’s lip as she squeezes her eyes shut. The skirt brushing against her skin is too much for her oversensitive body. Every small brush feels heavenly and leaves her wanting to arch and beg loudly for more. But in the back of her mind she remembers of the passengers.
Fingers press against her underwear, rubbing softly (teasingly again) as Yamato leans forward, leaving Kouya’s shoulder for the first time since starting, to press her lips against her partners. Kouya pants for air though the kiss, her breath falling into Yamato’s mouth. She wants to participate more into the kiss, to press her tongue into her girlfriend’s mouth, but she can barely think of anything else other then breathing.
Again the fingers slide teasingly across the white fabric. Smirking Yamato presses her fingers, letting Kouya whimper as she feels the pressure.
She cannot hold back anymore as she squeezes her eyes shut. “Yes, do that. Please!” Her voice is barely above a whisper, breathy and light. But Kouya swears she can hear it echo off the metal walls.
Warm air wafts over her neck as Yamato snickers lightly. “Of course,” she whispers.
Fingers slide around the white fabric as she pushes it to the side, her pinky making sure that it does not fall back. Gently she slides her fingers along Kouya’s folds as she teases the other girl, keeping her touches feather light.
Kouya whimpers as she tightens her grasp, her mouth falling open as she tries to breath. Cheeks flame in a renewed vigor. Hair fans over her face, blocking the view from most of the passengers, yet Yamato has a perfect, private viewing of her partner’s face. Drool slowly gathers at her lips as she gasps, focusing solely on her breathing.
One finger slowly, torturously slow, pushes into Kouya. The girl whines airily as her legs fall open, her hips slide along the seat as she tries to push the other girl further into her. But Yamato refuses to let it move any faster as she pulls the finger out, only to push it in just as slowly. Teasingly slowly. Never quickening her pace, despite how flustered her girlfriend looks.
Kouya tries to keep from crying out as she bends over, eyes remaining closed tightly. She refuses to cry out. She cannot, the embarrassment would kill her if she did. Instead she pants through a gaping mouth as she tries to continue focusing on breathing as the sensations fill her.
A second finger is added just as teasingly slow. Yamato stares delighted at the reactions she is getting. Already Kouya looks heavenly (looks how she is when they lie in bed together) with her flushing cheeks and the trail of drool that slides down her chin.
Slowly she thrusts the fingers into Kouya, bending them slightly. Shifting slightly she spreads her legs, her red uniform moving and sliding along Kouya’s bare leg.
“Hey,” she whispers to the gasping girl, “not fair if I’m the only one giving pleasure.” She slows her fingers as her other hand grips the hand that has been griping her leg in a vice-like grip.
Kouya breaks from the pleasure induced trace long enough to glance over, knowing what Yamato wants. Silently she slides her hand along the other girl’s inner thigh as she slowly slides closer. Fingers move the cloth barrier away (she cannot even find the patience to play around) as she pushes two fingers into her girlfriend.
Yamato gasps as she bites her lip, eyes fluttering shut as a sly smile crosses her face. For a second her fingers falter, stilling inside the other girl before she quickens the pace. Quickly a third finger is added as she keeps a quick pace, smirking as she feels Kouya follow suit.
Kouya can barely keep still as she lurches forward again, her free hand scrambling for purchase on the plastic seat before her. Her feet press firmly into the black floor as her hips slide forward, trying desperately to feel more. She keeps her fingers thrusting into Yamato, feeling their movements glide easier. Carefully she adds a third finger.
Out of the corner of her eye Kouya can see how the other girl moans breathlessly. And it almost makes her come, to watch Yamato smiling slyly (an almost peaceful smile crossing her face) with her eyes shut. Her cheeks have the lightest pink tinge to them (as if they were spread with a light stroke from a painters brush) as she arches elegantly while leaning against her shoulder.
‘If only I could be that elegant,’ Kouya thinks before lurching forward again. She has always been sharp, jerky movements (like a marionette controlled by a child), never as beautiful as Yamato.
Her head leans against the seat before her as Kouya tries to catch her breath. She can feel the warmth that pools in her and she barely has time to dig her teeth into her lower lip before she reaches her end. With a whimpered moan she comes, her hips pressing forward (as she tries to push Yamato as far inside as she can).
Her fingers falter for a second before she feels another hand wrap around her wrist. Blinking she looks over, her head still pressed against the cool, plastic seat before her, as she watches her fingers slide in and out of Yamato (and the fingers on her wrist feel as if they can burn her at any second). Glancing further back, she watches through her hair as the blond gracefully leans back in her seat as she chews on the inside of her mouth.
Suddenly the fingers twitch against her thin wrist before pushing her fingers in completely. Her only warning is how Yamato arches off the seat slight, her lips parting just enough for a light gasp to fall from her cherry red lips.
Slowly she pulls her fingers out of her girlfriend (noticing for the first time that Yamato has yet to remove her fingers either). Gasping she tries to keep from crying out as her sensitized body shudders as fingers slowly slide out of her. Yamato calmly raises her head, straightening out her skirt before smiling brightly at her friend beside her.
Kouya feels ravished as she quickly straightens her skirt and rebuttons her shirt. Quietly she wipes her fingers off on the inside of her skirt, as she tries to remind herself to wash it before wearing it again, before discreetly combing her fingers though her hair.
Smirking Yamato glances ahead, through the bus’s front window. “Ahh look!” she cries out again, that same cheery voice echoing on the bus. “It’s our stop next.” Looking over she winks at Kouya as she slips her fingers into her mouth, tongue licking and wrapping around the digits.
Kouya feels herself blushing as she watches Yamato clean her fingers.
“Anyways let’s go,” she continues as if nothing happened as the bus slows to a stop. Smiling she slowly heads for the stairs.
Kouya on the other hand cannot move fast enough as she almost runs off of the bus, while keeping her flushed face pointed towards the floor.
As she steps off the bus, a surge of braveness floods her as Kouya slowly turns around to watch the nearly empty bus pull away. Arms wrap around her and before she can blink Kouya finds herself pressed against Yamato in a passionate kiss. Her mind and body still reeling over what they just did.
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