For Better Or Worse by Payne, Jodi (read my book txt) 📕

the water got cold. I pulled Julie from the bath and wrapped us each in a soft towel while I drained the tub.

Julie reached into her toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and pulled out a toy with a coy smile.

“I thought you said you couldn’t ‘do it’ in your parents’ house!” I teased, relieving her of the towel and tugging her into the bedroom.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold out all week,” she laughed.

I backed her up to the bed and she pulled herself up onto it. I crawled after her, my eyes on hers until she brandished her vibrator between our noses. I grinned and took it, turning it on. There’s another old joke about lesbians being able to come at the mere sound of a vibrator, and sometimes I wonder if it’s not true. There is something hot, though whether it’s a conditioned response or a natural one I don’t know, about the growl and hum of a favorite vibe that can make one wet of its own accord.

I held the instrument between my palms for a bit to warm it and favored Julie with a smile. Then I slipped the humming handful of silicone between us and gently pressed it flat against her clit.

Gently at first, and then slowly adding pressure. She gasped and shivered, like she always does at the first touch of a vibe.

I left it there and pressed my hips to hers, pinning the narrow, flexible toy between our bodies.

An experimental downward thrust of my hips caused the vibe to press firmly to my clit as well, making me gasp and moan. After a moment I tried an upward thrust and rubbed the now-slick vibe against Julie’s clit. She sighed softly and started moving her hips in a circular motion, lifting them slightly from the bed. Any need for thrusting on my part was forgotten as the vibe rolled effectively between us with little effort on my part at all.

My eyes were on Julie’s grimace, her brow was furrowed and her eyes closed tightly. Her wet lips formed varying shapes of nearly silent O’s through which the barest hint of breath escaped as she worked the vibe with her hips and dug her fingers into my ass. I arched my shoulders upward, pressing my body more firmly against Julie’s and groaned as the vibe was pinned in just the right spot.

Julie was panting under me and I lowered my shoulders again and kissed her, claiming her mouth with a decisive thrust of my tongue. She tasted like merlot and smelled like soap and her own dizzying musk and I rocked my clit against the vibe, my hips now moving in opposition to hers.

She tore her mouth from mine and cupped one of my breasts in both her hands, bathing my stiff nipple with her tongue. It set off lightening strikes deep inside my body and I clenched practiced muscles around nothing but it still made me shiver. Julie opened her legs wider and wrapped them around my thighs with a straining groan and I knew she was close. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my own climax, which I knew was right there for me, if I could reach far enough. Then Julie shuddered and bucked, her gasps more like screams. I opened my eyes and watched as her pale skin blushed pink. She continued to move even after she’d had her fill locking those stubborn, Irish, hazel eyes on me. She arched her hips and I gasped.

“Gail, so fucking hot, take what you want, baby, come for me.”

I could have died right then, on the verge of orgasm with Julie, beautiful, sweet, soft Julie, talking dirty in my ear. What took me then didn’t feel like death at all but just the opposite as every muscle in my body tensed, and every nerve was set on fire in radiant waves. I shouted something, probably her name, and I gasped and ground my hips into the vibe and otherwise made a spectacle of myself. When my ears stopped ringing and my body relaxed, Julie started to laugh triumphantly.

I joined her.

5

Christmas Day wasn’t a complete disaster, but it wasn’t what I would call “Merry” either.

Julie’s brothers arrived early in the morning. Peter was first, and I was surprised by him. He was taller than I’d expected and very handsome, too; he didn’t fit my image of a brain surgeon at all.

Peter introduced me to Ellen, his wife, and to their kids; eleven-year old Andrew, who was cute as could be, and four-year old Allison who walked right passed me and into Kathleen’s arms.

Ellen was attractive, but just as vapid as Julie had led me to believe.

Robert barreled in next, wearing nothing more than knee-length gym shorts and a ratty-looking t-shirt despite the cold, and carrying three duffel bags and a lap top computer bag as well. Eileen, the maid, whisked two of the three duffels away instantly as they were apparently laundry, and Robert dumped the third at the foot of the stairs. After a brief hello to everyone, he announced that he had to check his email and disappeared into his father’s study with his laptop.

Breakfast was chaotic, and Julie’s family stepped all over each other in the kitchen. The kids took their food and disappeared to watch TV, so just the adults were left behind to make small talk, drink coffee and choke down eggs. Peter and I had a halting conversation about the weather and about their flight out from the East Coast. He didn’t seem uncomfortable around me as much as just generally uncomfortable around so many people at once. In my eyes, he solidly maintained his geek status while gaining a few points for trying to be friendly.

Robert joined us after a half an hour or so. He came into the kitchen and went straight for the refrigerator. “There are eggs on the counter and some of that multigrain bread that you like by the