Queer Smut

Claire and Venus

Their lips crash. Venus tastes like cigarettes and sweet beverages. Claire drowns in it, her knee moving up between Venus' legs. Venus opens her mouth in a gasp, Claire adding tongue to the hot kiss.

Venus is pressed up against the wall of the hotel, letting the other girl do whatever she wants to her. And oh, how Claire uses that privilege.

She uses it when she takes her hands off the wall and traces them down Venus' waist, down to her infuriatingly short mini skirt. She uses it when she pushes the black skirt up, getting her fingers stuck in the net. She uses it when she starts kissing Venus' jaw, her neck, biting her collarbone.

She trusts the skirt to rest on Venus' hips, and moves her hands to the tight black crop top, with the thin laces holding it up. She drags the shirt and her own t-shirt off, before connecting their lips again.

"Ugh, fuck," Venus groans when Claire bites her lower lip and places her hand firmly between her legs, moving her fingers and smirking as Venus writhes.

Suddenly they're moving towards the bed, Claire pushing Venus until they both fall onto the sheets. Claire looks at Venus for a minute, taking in her black bra that barely covers her breasts, the tiny black skirt that still hugs her waist and the black panties hiding the place Claire is so desperate to touch. Takes in Venus's dark brown hair spread over the white covers, her brown skin shining from sweat in the moonlight. Her lipstick is smudged and the look she's giving Claire is desperate; wanting.

Claire climbs up so that her head is level with Venus', her legs straddling her hips.

"Can I fuck you?" she asks quietly, sweetly. Venus lets out a moan.

"Mm, fuck, yes. Please," she grabs the back of Claire's head and brings it down to meet her half way, kissing her again. Hard, thirsting.

Claire pulls away, sitting up again and placing her hands on each of Venus' tits, squeezing them before urging Venus up so she can take off the bra.

Once the piece of clothing is off, Claire is down, nibbling and sucking at Venus' nipples. Her hand is down her panties, delicately caressing the clitoris and enjoying the sounds leaving Venus' throat.

Venus' hands are on the clips of Claire's bra, fumbling to get it off. Claire smirks, not intending to help when she bites down on Venus' nipple, causing a yelp–or perhaps a moan– to leave the girl's throat.

Once the bra is off, Claire sits up yet again, even though her body is aching for activity. She lets Venus run her eyes over her bare torso.

Claire knows she's hot. She has nipple piercings and a bellybutton piercing. Her waist is tight, and her tits sit quite perfectly on her chest, something she knows many girls envy. She knows she can get those seductive glares just right, and she knows her blonde hair only helps the process. She knows Venus's state fixates on the flower tattoo on her side, her eyes going up to meet Claire's, almost comically curious, considering the position they're currently in.

"My mom," Claire explained, leaning back down again to meet Venus' face, "Her name's Dahlia."

They kiss again, Venus humming into her mouth. Somewhere in the process, both of their bottoms are removed and thrown somewhere in the room. Claire doesn't hesitate to position herself between Venus' legs so that their vaginas are rubbing against one another. They're both moaning and to stifle them, Claire leans forward to connect their lips in an openmouthed, heated kiss.

One of her hands is on Venus' leg, holding it back for access, and the other is on her breast. Both of Venus' hands are massaging Claire's boobs, their hips dancing against each other to a silent rhythm that they both feel.

The moment is hot and sweaty and sexy and Claire is almost sure it's the best she's felt in years. She never wants this moment to end.

Though she changes her mind when Venus starts moaning louder, her hips moving faster, her hands groping harder than before. And then the twitching starts. Claire can safely say she was a bit scared Venus was having a stroke – not that it crosses her mind, mind you, not when she feels the same way Venus does.

Somehow, they both come at the same time, liquid exploding onto the bed, their bodies. Venus and Claire both moaning and gasping and shaking.

"Shit," Claire gasps once she gets her words back, slumping against Venus' body, her head resting on her chest.

"Fuck, Claire," Venus responds, her hand going to Claire's hair.

Claire is about to fall asleep. Venus is like that. Soft.

Her body is soft, everywhere. She has no sharp edges, like Claire does, and you can't quite point out her bones such as you can Claire's.

Years ago, when Claire was still in highschool, she would have called Venus chubby. Or fat. But not now, now she knows better, and she's a better person.

Venus is nothing but beautiful. And soft. So so soft.

Such are the thoughts running through Claire's head as she falls asleep to Venus' scent, the beat of her heart.