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"Driver," Grace said, gaze unmoving from the other woman's face, "Look at me."
Driver continued to glare holes into the baseboard of Ryland's apartment. Her hands flex into fists, then back out, leather gloves creaking in the suffocating silence of the living room. She wouldn't, couldn't look up. She knew exactly what she would find in Grace's eyes. Driver knew she wouldn't be able to handle the rejection. She really should just turn around and leave, run back to her apartment with her tail between her legs, patch herself up, and sit curled in a corner until the pain of losing the sunlight in her life dulled enough, until the hurt scarred pink along with her knuckles. But. Ryland had closed the door. Ryland lead her to her couch, Ryland wet a rag and placed a delicate hand on her shoulder. Her fingers clenched around bloodstained leather once again. Her hands were dirty, impure. They were rough and harsh compared to Grace's, Driver didn't even deserve to feel her touch, to dirty Ryland's palm with her filth.
"Casey…" Ryland pleaded, hovering her hand above Driver's neck, and God, who was she to say no to that?
Slowly, she tilted her head up, meeting her sunlight's eyes. Grace's eyes shone in the warm light of her lamps, painfully earnest and blue as the high tide waves, crashing against the rocky coast of Driver's defenses. Her chest ached. Ryland was so beautiful, and so, so, undeniably good. Everything Driver wasn't. She didn't deserve to even be around someone as pure as Ryland Grace, to track her muck into her life.
Casey hauled her filth around with her, dragging it through her life like a dead body tied to her ankles, blood spilling over her boots. Her hands would never be clean. She let her gaze drop again.
There was a finger placed under her chin, lifting her face back up. Grace sighed, cataloguing her movements as she pressed the wet rag to Driver's face, wiping the splatter from her cheeks. The action jerked tears to her waterline. It was too gentle for a violent mutt like her. Something in her chest twinged, caught between leaning into the damp caress and running as far and as fast as her body allowed.
"I'm not upset with you, Casey," Ryland said after what felt like hours, "I just want… clarification." Driver said nothing. Her hands squeezed her knees over her jeans. After a moment, Grace sighed. "Have you been following me?"
Driver flinched, she should have expected the question. Grace was smart, and the evidence was piling up against her. There were very few explanations as to how she got there so fast, how Driver had the mugger on the ground beneath her fists before he could lay a hand on Ryland. Driver dropped her eyes, gaze settling on Ryland's form under her camisole and jeans, sight catching on how the white lace sat over her chest- immediately she wrenched her gaze away, back to the stained baseboards. She really was disgusting, wasn't she? Grace was extending her endless kindness to someone as undeserving as Driver, and what did she do with it? Disgusting.
"Answer me." The authority in Grace's voice sent an involuntary shudder through Driver, her leather gloves screaming where her fingertips dragged against her jeans. Finally, Casey nodded, jaw clenched around nothing. (She desperately wished for a toothpick to roll between her lips…) Grace's fingers stiffened against the younger woman's face.
"How long."
Driver tried not to flinch at the hardness in Ryland's voice. She deserved this. She deserved whatever Grace wanted to do to her, and more. "Few months." Driver's voice rasped against her throat, struggling to escape her mouth.
Ryland sucked in a deep breath, and released it slow. Driver hunched in on herself.
"Why."
A simple question turned into a harsh demand. It sent cold spikes through Driver's chest. She swallowed, the taste of iron and bile lingering on her tongue. Her voice came out even softer than usual "Wanted to keep you safe." she said, then, quieter, "To take care of you."
Grace stilled for a moment, before sighing once again. "..Okay."
Ryland sat next to her after that and, inexplicably, began removing Casey's gloves. She did it carefully, tugging on the end of each finger in turn, loosening them slowly until she could pull the whole thing off easily. One hand, then the next. Then the efforts of the damp rag were turned against her broken knuckles, rubbing alcohol soon following suit. Driver stared at Ryland, incredulous.
"Why are you doing this?" the question startled the both of them, Grace's eyes snapping up to Driver's. There was a pause, then:
"You're hurt." Ryland said, simply. She shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing. Driver felt stuck, frozen in the moment. It made no sense. Driver saw the fear in Grace's eyes when she ran into her one too many times in town, the terror in her posture when she had finally seen the disgusting amount of violence Driver was capable of in the back alley, trepidation weighing just as heavy as the iron tools in her hands. Casey didn't deserve this kindness. She didn't deserve any of this. "I'm not.. happy about any of this. But…"
Grace trailed off, and Driver tensed, the rejection zipping down her spine. "I'm sorry." she whispered, staring at her (bloody) shoes. Ryland sighed and released Driver's hand, bringing it up to pinch her brow. Driver couldn't handle it anymore, the extreme urge to prove herself, to smooth the lines from Ryland's face gripped her stronger than anything she had ever felt. She acted on instinct, dropping from the couch and onto her knees with a dull thud, twisting until she settled between Grace's spread legs.
Ryland gasped, the quick movement taking her by surprise. Driver gripped the back of her calf and pressed her temple against the older woman's knee. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "I can be good for you, Ryland, I promise. I can."
When Grace didn't immediately respond, momentarily shocked by the sudden energy shift, Driver panted, blinking wildly at the woman above her. Her hair was falling from the ponytail at the nape of her neck, cascading like spun gold over her shoulders. "I can prove it," she said, reaching the hand not already on Ryland up to grip her thigh, "Let me-"
"I-" Grace breathed, her hand twitching against the teal-striped couch cushion, "I can't ask you to do anything-"
"Let me prove it to you." Driver pleaded. She reached up, raising on her knees to be closer to Grace, closer to her angelic gaze, her bright eyes, her perfect mouth. "Please."
There's an agonizing beat of silence where Driver thinks that Grace may actually reject her, say no and send her home. The thought itself sends panic pooling in her gut, if Ryland refused her, Driver wasn't sure how she would survive. She could never hurt Ryland, never in a million years would she do a single thing to cause any amount of pain to the perfect woman before her. But the thought of losing this ray of sunshine in her miserable life was the worst thing that could befall Driver.
"Okay." Ryland's voice is so quiet, if Driver hadn't been right in front of her, she may not have heard it at all. "Prove it. Be good for me.". There's a glint in Grace's eyes that Driver had never seen before, a shine of something adjacent to hunger. It sent a terrific thrill through Driver.
Ryland lifted a hand, sliding it into the hair on the side of Driver's head. Driver lunged upwards, only just barely stopping herself from immediately crashing into Grace's mouth. She stopped. She was going to do this right. Slowly, she released her death grip from Grace's calf and lifted it to instead cup the side of her neck. Driver could feel the flutter of her pulse under her palm. Agonizingly slow, she drifted forwards, pressing their lips together with a softness that pulses beneath her skin. The feeling of Grace's breath puffing against her cheeks lights some sort of flame in Casey's soul, and she presses further in.
The feeling of finally having exactly what she's been needing beneath her hands, beneath her mouth, is almost too much for her to handle. Her hands tremble slightly where they sit on Grace's body, and Driver uses them to pet carefully over her thigh, her shoulder, soft as can be. Ryland gasps at the feeling, Driver takes the opportunity to suck her bottom lip into her mouth, dragging her teeth over it and licking into the older woman's mouth. It takes a humiliating amount of effort to not whine into Grace's mouth, the simple fact of her being allowed to do this, to press into this perfect woman like she is, is enough to make Casey throb against the seam of her jeans. Grace shudders, deliciously reactive, and uses the grip she has on Driver's hair to pull her back. Driver goes easily, stealing another soft kiss from her lips before moving sideways over her jaw. Ryland sighs, petting at Driver's hair while the younger woman lines her jaw with kisses. She leans, stretching her throat beautifully towards Driver, who has to pause to swallow a shuddering groan at the sight. Grace is so unbearably beautiful. How is she meant to do anything but follow her trail? How is she meant to spend any single moment of the day with this woman outside of her sightlines?
"Driver." the sound of Ryland's voice snaps her out of her reverie, "Focus."
Who is she to refuse such a command?
Driver returns to her task with a renewed vigor, egged on by the quiet sound that escapes Grace's mouth. She never wants to hear anything except the sounds of Ryland's pleasure, she wants to sit between her legs for all of eternity, milking every groan and whine and huff from her sunlight, drink it straight from the source.
Speaking of…
The feeling of lace scraping across Driver's thumb is just enough to bring her back to the present as she slides her fingers beneath Ryland's camisole, meeting the deliciously warm skin of her stomach. Grace twitches beneath her, and Driver responds by scraping her teeth across the soft skin beneath her ear. She's rewarded with a quiet, high-pitched groan and a twitch of Grace's hands. Driver can't help but smile as she licks an apology over the bite, continuing her ministrations of Ryland's neck. Carefully, Driver rubs her hands upwards over Ryland's ribs, counting them in her mind. Driver wants to map out every single bone, muscle, and crevice of this perfect woman's body, to have intimate knowledge of each and every blemish and scar that litters Grace's skin. Finally, she makes contact with the soft fabric of her bra, and she can't help but shake with anticipation. Grace pulls Driver off of her neck by the hair at the crown of her head, dragging her over to her lips instead, Driver obeys this command, meeting her mouth eagerly, she allows herself to ravage and be ravaged by Grace's perfect mouth. She gets lost in the slick movements of their jaws, only ripped back to reality by a hand on her wrist. Grace is taking her hand and placing it over the swell of her breast.
Casey could cry from the feeling.
She pulled slightly back from the woman in front of her, petting the hair at the base of her skull and studying her face as she palmed Grace's chest. Ryland arched slightly into the feeling, the hand she had on Driver's wrist sliding up to her shoulder, grasping at the thick muscle. It was obscene to look at, the way Driver's hand bulged beneath the thin fabric of Ryland's shirt as she squeezed the soft tissue under her hand. She met Ryland's eyes again, heavy lidded in the warm light of the apartment, her glasses were just barely hanging onto the end of her nose, so Driver removed a hand from her hair and gently pushed them up the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger. Grace's gaze turned soft at the action, her hand dragging own to the side of Driver's face. Driver couldn't fight the urge to lean into the warmth of her hand, nuzzling into Grace's palm like a dog. She peered up through her lashes at the older woman and Grace cooed at her, thumbing at her cheekbone "Look at you…" she murmured through kissed-pink lips "So pretty…"
Driver shuddered, pushing harder into Grace's hand, shaking pathetically at the praise. When she opened her eyes again, Grace was smiling smugly, an edge in her eyes making Driver's stiff clit throb pitifully against the hard seam of her jeans.
Both of Driver's hands met the lace trim at the bottom of Ryland's shirt, she tugged at it questioningly, eyes never leaving Grace's face. Grace didn't nod, didn't give permission, instead she grabbed the camisole herself, tugging it over her own head and tossing it somewhere in the room. The moment the fabric cleared her shoulders, Driver was on her, pressing her tongue to the hollow of her throat. Grace gasped at the feeling, gripping the younger woman's shoulders. So, on Driver went, attacking Ryland's collarbones with attention, all while dragging her hands up Grace's slim stomach. She reveled in the twitching of Grace's muscles beneath her hands. Finally, her hands landed back over Ryland's bra, thumbs finding the stiff peaks of her nipples through the soft fabric. She rubbed gentle circles against them for a moment, enjoying the heaving of Grace's chest beneath her tongue. Desperately, Driver wanted something different under her tongue, but she shoved away the burning desire.
She needed to do this right. She needed to be good for Ryland.
Once again, Driver removed a hand from Grace's tit and caressed down her stomach instead, her fingertips finding the soft hair on her lower stomach. She squeezed Grace's chest at the same time, and Ryland honest-to-God shivered beneath her hands.
"Oh, gosh, Casey…" she shuddered, and Driver's hips thrusted forward, grinding painfully against nothing. She seriously thought about shifting over and settling over one of Grace's beat-up white converse, grinding herself to completion over her foot like the mutt she was.. But, no.
This wasn't about Driver's pleasure. No matter how hot and wet she throbbed in her too-tight jeans, Ryland came first. Even if it meant Driver never found climax ever again in her life.
Driver hooked Grace's bra strap over her middle finger, shifting it off her shoulder and down her arm, making it easier to fold the fabric of the cup over, exposing the perfect, pert nipple beneath. She stopped for a moment, watching the way her exposed breast shifted with each heavy breath Grace took, she paid no mind to how her other hand played absentmindedly beneath the edge of Ryland's jeans. Grace looked perfect like this, flushed down to her chest with her hands twitching against Driver's shoulders. Driver never wanted to see anything else ever again. Her attention shifted back to the stiff nipple above her thumb, a beautiful pink nub standing out against Ryland's pale chest. Carefully, she leaned in, licking a stripe over her breast, only pulling back to blow warm air over the cooling spit. Grace's hips twitched up against Driver's wandering hand, so Driver pulled her fingers out of the hem, pressing them over the button instead. She sucked the nipple into her mouth, gently scraping her teeth against the stiff flesh, reveling in how Grace arched into her.
"God," Ryland moaned, gripping Driver's shoulders, hard. (Driver silently hoped they would bruise.)
Driver dropped her mouth from Grace's chest, and tried not to stare at the line of saliva that connected them. "Tell me," Driver swallowed, "Tell me what you want."
Grace stared unabashedly, pretty pink lips dropped open around nothing. "Touch me."
Driver let go of the fabric of her bra, watching somewhat sadly as the cup covered the exposed breast once again. She shifted the hand on the button of Ryland's jeans down between her legs, feeling the heat radiating from her. "Here?" she asked
"Yes-" Ryland groaned, dropping her own hands to her waistband. She arched upwards, struggling with her fly, before Driver placed her hand over Grace's, meeting her heavy stare.
"I got it." Driver said, and there was a moment where she thought Grace was going to argue, insist on doing it herself, but she didn't. Slowly, she nodded, putting her hands back on Driver, letting her take care of any unnecessary fabric. Driver could feel herself drooling as she unlaced Ryland's shoes, pulling them carefully off before she could undo her partner's jeans. Finally she got a look at Ryland's plain grey panties on, rather than in her laundry hamper. She leaned up kissing at the skin under the band of Grace's bra, Grace canted her hips up, allowing Driver to pull her jeans down her thighs. Driver pulled away to stare at the milky expanse of her thighs before her, eyes roving over every various bruise and scar-
"Less looking, more doing." Ryland grumbled, pulling one of Driver's hands back onto her waist.
"You're beautiful." Driver said, rubbing a hand up and down one of Grace's thighs reverently.
Grace stiffened, and Driver's gaze shot to her face, certain she had done something wrong, but Grace was looking at her with barely restrained lust. "You can't just. Say that." she said, hands squeezing rhythmically over her shoulders. Driver ignored her words. Grace was the most beautiful thing to ever grace this planet. Driver would make sure she knew it. She lowered her mouth back to Grace's stomach, sliding the hand on her thigh up to cup the warmth between her legs, and Driver wished she could bottle the feeling of Grace spreading her thighs for her, hips lift from her couch to grind onto the heel of Drivers hand. She could feel the slick through the fabric, and it made her mouth water, she laved over Graces abdomen, following the line of where the fat on her stomach met the slimness of her hips. Grace's hips kicked up over her palm again, and Driver shifted. She settled fully on her knees, eye-level with Grace's belly button, and removed her hand from Grace's crotch, dragging a whine from the teacher's lips. Driver pushed her thumb over the seam of Ryland's thigh and hip, searching for the sensitive spot that-
Ryland twitched into her hand when Driver found the pressure point. She couldn't keep the smile off her face, she finally, finally, had this gorgeous woman pliant beneath her hands. Grace's thighs were soft beneath her mouth, strong from years of biking through the hills of San Francisco, and the hair was fine and light. She couldn't hold back from digging her teeth in, feeling the muscles flex into her mouth. "Mm- C'mon," Grace muttered, one hand traveling from the couch to Driver's hair. Driver finally relented, releasing her thigh from her bite and nudging her nose upwards instead. She pressed a kiss to the warm heat, able to smell her through the fabric of her underwear, the scent sending a shock of desire down her spine.
A slight tug on Driver's hair egged her on, and she licked the wet spot on her underwear, dragging her tongue up and trying desperately to parse the taste of Grace from the cotton on her taste buds. "Take these off." Grace panted, tugging at her own waistband. Driver obeyed, shifting far enough away that she could pull Ryland's panties off, discarding them somewhere hopefully near her jeans.
There was a pause, then. Both women panting, Driver frozen in the shock of finally getting what she's been wanting for months. Grace was so unbelievably gorgeous, especially here. Her pussy was swollen with need, and Driver was absolutely enraptured. Carefully, she placed her hands on the insides of Grace's knees, spreading her thighs wider and shifting fully between them. Driver stared at the beauty between Ryland's legs, she didn't get to do this often, but she knew how to make it good. Improving the angle, she lifted one of Graces thighs, hooking her knee over her shoulder, studying how it made the flesh twist before her. She blew cold air against her swollen clit, just to watch it twitch, to feel Grace's thighs spasm against her.
Driver grabbed one of Ryland's dropped hands, placing it in her hair, "You can pull." she said, before finally diving in.
The sound Grace made when Driver licked a flat stripe up her vulva could only be described as heavenly, and the way she tasted ripped a moan from Driver's throat, she could feel it vibrate through Grace's pelvis. Ryland gasped, hips twitching into Driver's mouth, but Driver pushed her hips down, keeping them in place. She was going to map out every nerve and crevasse Ryland had, she was going to find the exact right inputs to make Grace feel good. She was going to make Ryland feel better than she ever had before. She was going to make Grace unsatisfied with everyone else, be so useful, so good that Grace simply had to stay.
Resolute in her process, Driver spread Grace open with her thumbs, and began to map her out. She catalogued every sound, every twitch, every roll of Grace's hips, finding the exact right way to roll her tongue, the angle to thrust her tongue into her, the right amount of pressure to place against her sensitive clit. Driver began to slip into the haze, letting every sensation and sound roll over her. All that mattered was the taste in her mouth, the feel of Grace's thighs beneath her hands.
"Please, Casey-" Grace whined, snapping Driver back to the present. Driver looked up at her through her eyelashes and, fuck. Grace was gorgeous like this, jaw dropped open, eyes half-lidded, lips and skin flushed in the most beautiful shades of pink. Driver moaned at the sight, and Grace shook like she was dying, "More, g-give me more baby." Ryland grunted, "You're s-so good for me, give me more."
Driver thought she might die if she didn't give Grace absolutely everything she needed right then. She whined pathetically at the praise, bringing a hand beneath her chin. Her finger slipped in with zero resistance, Grace was so unbelievably wet, the noises made by simply thrusting a single finger in and out were obscene. The slight burn from Grace's fluids against her scraped knuckles only served to egg Driver on. Ryland whined at the intrusion, and thrust her hips down. Driver let her. "Mm- so good honey," she moaned, "More."
Her ring finger joined her middle one inside Ryland, and she curved them, finding the slightly rougher texture inside of her, and Grace spasmed, whining long and loud. Driver moaned in turn, unable to help the shock of arousal at finding the correct formula. SHe tried to repress the way she shook at the praise flowing freely from Grace's mouth, but both of Grace's hands were digging into Driver's hair then, holding her flush against her pussy as she rode her tongue, closer to the edge every moment that passed. "F-fuck," Ryland gasped, and Driver's hips stuttered against nothing, absolutely delighted to have broken through Grace's self-censorship, "Just- just like that, baby. Ah- shit-"
Driver obeyed, reveling in how Grace's clit twitched beneath her tongue, Ryland letting off a stream of babbling as she approached the edge, her grip on Casey tightening as she grew increasingly incoherent. Nothing felt better than when the talking petered into a loud, high-pitched whine as she came. Nothing. Driver worked her through her orgasm, not letting up as she felt the gush of Ryland's spend over her fingers, the rapid twitching of her overworked clit. Driver didn't relent until Grace was pulling her away, muttering for her to stop.
She leaned back, removing her fingers from Ryland as gentle as she could, watching her hole clench around the newfound absence. Driver looked up, meeting Ryland's gaze. She had to stop and admire how gorgeous she was like this, limp, spent, and flushed above her, she lifted a hand to rub Grace's thigh through the aftershocks. Driver looked at her soaked fingers, bringing them to her lips, keeping eye contact with Grace through the whole action, watching her eyes rove over Driver.
An embarrassing groan left Driver's lips when the taste of Ryland found her tongue, and Grace looked insane with lust. "Come here, Driver" she said roughly, "Let me-"
Driver was there before she could finish her thought, hands on her thighs and lips only inches away. Grace grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in, kissing her sloppily and moaning at her own taste. The kiss didn't last long, Grace's hands began to wander, tugging at Driver's jacket and collar. Grace broke away, gaze roving over Driver's face. Her thumb came up, wiping the slick from Driver's chin and bringing it to her own mouth. It was the hottest thing Driver had ever seen.
Ryland's breaths came heavily, bursting from her mouth, heaving from her chest, She relaxed against Driver, her head cushioned on Casey's shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around her. Casey held her, stroking her back through the comedown and trying to chase off the shame threatening the edges of her mind. Yes, she was filthy, but she was so incredibly lucky to be able to hold Ryland like this, luckier that Ryland didn't hate her for all that she had done. The clothes she stole from her, she time she broke into her apartment, the way she followed her…
This sort of luck never lasted for Driver. She needed to enjoy it while she had it.
While Driver was lost in her head, Ryland's breathing evened. Casey was soon distracted when Grace pulled her in again, stopping only centimeters from Driver's lips, Driver brought a hand up to rest it on Grace's collarbone. "You did so good for me, baby." Grace muttered, and Driver couldn't hold back the absolutely pathetic whimper that tore from her throat. She tried to look away, but Grace wouldn't let her, a curled finger beneath her chin keeping her right where Grace wanted her. Driver shifted on her knees, unable to ignore the throbbing wetness between her own legs now. Selfish.
"Oh, look at you…" Grace crooned, a patronizing tone Driver had never heard before accenting her voice. Driver let out a shaking breath, trying (and failing) to keep her hands from spasming where they laid on Grace's thighs. "Come here, baby, lay down."
Driver was helpless but to listen to her, a familiar fog creeping over her senses. She joined Ryland on the couch, shrugging off her jacket and leaning against the armrest. Warmth bloomed in her chest when she sow how much care Grace put into carefully laying the jacket on the table beside her gloves so it wouldn't get dirty on the floor. Grace untied her boots, letting them drop to the floor with two heavy thunks, then Grace dragged her palms from Driver's ankles, up her shins, knees, and thighs before finally shoving under her Henley, thumbs rubbing circles over her waistline. Driver breathed into Grace's mouth, hands twitching where they lay on the couch. She wasn't used to being in this position, she should shove Ryland away, put this energy towards cleaning her up, making her tea, not her own selfishness. But, when she looked down at Grace's naked thighs straddling her, she couldn't find it in her to say no. If this was what Grace wanted, who was she to refuse? She placed her hands over Ryland's waist, and leaned her head back, allowing Grace to kiss and suck on her neck.
She would let Grace do whatever she wanted to Driver, for however long she desired.
~-~-~
Driver felt as if she was dying. She was shaking, hands and thighs spasming. Grace had removed Driver's shitty old sports bra, and she was currently rubbing her tits over her half-unbuttoned henley. There were sure to be hundreds of bruises covering her neck. Ryland was unexpectedly ruthless, working over Driver's torso, finding every erogenous zone she hand, but never drifting below her belt, to where Casey needed her most. Driver ached with need, so much so that Ryland was drawing small noises from her with every touch. It was humiliating.
Her hips ground down on nothing, Ryland paused her ministrations, she lifted a hand to Driver's forehead and brushed a hair behind her ear. "Want something, honey?" Ryland asked, so very innocently.
Driver grit her teeth. "Please.." she ground out.
"Please, what?" she asked, a smug grin on her face as her hand drifted tantalizingly close to Driver's waistband, before switching directions to rub a soothing thumb over the scar on her stomach.
"Rylie…" Casey whined, her hands clenched into Grace's arms, making her hum thoughtfully.
Mercifully, Ryland shifted a thigh between Driver's pressing a knee up until she gasped, clenching down and grinding into it. Driver's face was surely already burning red, but she could feel it get hotter with humiliation. Grace wasn't supposed to see this part of Casey, the selfish, needy mutt she kept under wraps as best she could. "God, Casey, you're stunning…" Ryland murmured, moving down to nip at Driver's neck, pulling a desperate whimper from deep in Casey's chest. She couldn't handle it any longer, it was so good, but it wasn't enough.
"Please, Ryland…"
"I can't give you what you want if you don't tell me…" Driver pressed her cheek into the armrest by her head, clenching her jaw against a whine when Grace's fingertips brushed below her waistline. "You were so good for me before, Casey," Driver actually whined at that, "Be good again and tell me what you want."
Her need to be good overrode her embarrassment, and with the same effort of pulling a stuck pipe, Driver finally wrenched out "Touch me, Ryland, please."
With a satisfied hum, Grace finally unbuckled her belt. Driver could've cried at the relief of the fly of her jeans finally coming undone. Mercifully, Grace pulled her pants and boxers down in one go, exposing her pussy to the air. "I'll take my time with you later…" Ryland murmured, rubbing the heel of her hand over Drivers mound, so,so close but not quite there. "You've been waiting so well, baby…". Driver was suddenly struck, Ryland said there would be a later.
Driver keened when Rylands fingers breached her folds, loud enough that she almost missed the quiet gasp Grace made.
"You're so wet…" she said, almost aweful, "So pretty like this… so pretty for me."
The possessive tone Ryland took on sent another wave of arousal through Driver, and she bucked into Grace's hand. Grace explored her with a light touch, light circling and brushes over every part of Casey. It only took a moment to find what she was looking for, and she bore down at a brutal pace. Driver was hurtling towards her orgasm at a surprising speed, already so close. "Close," she whispered, hands twitching and spasming where they laid on Grace, her hips moving unbidden. Grace was watching her with a gorgeous look in her eye, her fingers circling Driver's clit with the perfect amount of pressure. It was driving her insane. She needed something, anything else.
As if she read her mind, Grace reached up and grabbed the back of Drivers hair, hard. Her neck bent back, and Grace watched her face as she moaned, low and chesty. The sharp pain at the base of her skull was enough to throw Driver over the edge. She came hard, harder than she had in a long time, embarrassing noises ripping from her throat as Grace worked her through it. Ryland only slowed her ministrations when Driver quieted.
Casey felt like she was somewhere else, floating through fog rather than laying on Ryland's old, probably thrifted couch. Grace was hovering above her, making quiet shushing noises and wiping her face. It took Casey's brain a moment to catch up and realize why. Casey was crying. Because humiliation is clearly a sort of punishment for her nature.
"Hey," Ryland was still hovering above her, her anxiety evident in her face, "Are you okay? What- what happened?"
God, Ryland wouldn't look away, Casey felt exposed, her shame split open for Grace to see. "'M fine," she stated, lightly pushing Ryland away so she could sit up, "Sorry."
"No, no, it's okay-" Grace went willingly, her hands waving nervously around Casey's face. "I'm sorry."
Casey scrubbed at her eyes. "You didn't do anything. I'm being- stupid."
"I'm so sorry, was that not-" If Casey could stop fucking crying, she could fix the horrible, scared look on Ryland's face. But she just had to ruin everything.
"No, that was good," Casey replied, pinching her brow, "I just… do this sometimes."
"Oh." Ryland's voice was small, and she deflated, pushing her glasses up. The look on her face made Driver's chest clench. It was unbearable to see Ryland like this, so anxious and upset. Carefully, Casey removed Grace's glasses, and cleaned them on the hem of her shirt. Grace's eyes tracked her hands, flitting up to Driver's face when she hooked the glasses over her ears. Her gaze was soft, her voice was softer when she spoke, "But, you're okay?".
A (clean) hand came up to cup her cheek when she nodded. "Okay." Grace nodded, still moving to get off Casey's lap. Driver reached up to pull her back, but Ryland evaded her. "Hold on," she said.
Casey watched as Ryland snagged her fox cardigan off and wrapped herself in it, the hem just covering her ass as she walked into the kitchen and started the tap. Absentmindedly, Casey watched Grace move through the kitchen, washing her hands and wetting a hand towel in the warm water. Driver realized, belatedly, that she hadn't moved from where Ryland left her, her legs still splayed as far as they could with her jeans pushed down to her mid-thighs. She awkwardly closed her legs. Ryland smiled at her, and Casey tried to keep her eyes from creeping down her partially-zipped cardigan- filth.
"Here," Grace said, wiping finger-swipes of spend from the front of Casey's hips, "Take those off, we're about the same size," she gestured to Driver's pants, "I'll loan you a pair of sweatpants and wash your jeans."
"I'll wash them." Casey said, wiggling out of her bottoms. "There's a specific way to do it." she mumbled, ashamed of the way Grace hesitated. But Ryland simply smiled, and took the laundry over her arm.
"C'mon." she said, reaching for Driver, "Let's go lay down."