CHIM - One Hundred Dozen (Lesbian Story) (Cheryl, Kimberley, Girls Aloud)

- Nineteen -

A/N: Just a reminder that this story is intended for mature audiences only! The humour and drama elements are still very present, of course, but the intimacy is definitely picking up. If you've found the sex scenes offensive at all, DO NOT continue reading. Feel free to voice your opinions on this matter! I'd love to hear from you. Enjoy. 

- Nineteen -

The sun has barely risen when Cheryl's eyes flicker open and her gaze focuses on the impossibly beautiful woman asleep beside her.  The slight amber glow floats through the window, kissing Kimberley's face.  Cheryl smiles, admiring her perfect skin and the way her lips are pouted even as she sleeps.  She reaches a hand out and gently caresses her cheek. 

She can't even remember when they fell asleep.  All she can remember is the way Kimberley looked at her, the way she touched her, the way she possessed her. The way they possessed each other, really.   

She gently places her lips on Kimberley's, letting them linger for a moment, causing her to stir.  

"Cheryl-"  Kimberley mumbles, smiling and still asleep.  Her sleepy voice flutters Cheryl's heart.  

A wave of sadness crashes into the emotional Geordie.  It occurs to her that soon, she'll be kissing Kimberley goodbye.  She frowns to herself.  Gently, she leans into Kimberley again, placing a feather-light kiss on her forehead, before slowly shuffling out of bed.   

Ah. She bites her lip as she stands up. Her legs are beyond sore and they ache trying to support her slight weight.  It takes everything in her to keep quiet, not wanting to wake her girlfriend. She gingerly walks over to Kimberley's closet and finds a baggy T-shirt to slip on, inhaling her girlfriend's unmistakable scent and finding comfort.  

She carefully descends the stairs, her thighs screaming out with each step, her abdomen straining with each breath.  It's a gripping soreness but it feels so good, prompting moments from last night to pass through her mind like a flashing slideshow.   

It isn't until Cheryl flicks on the kettle, waiting for the water to boil, that she realizes just how much is actually on her mind. Thoughts fly in and out of her head, fighting for her attention, but the aching in her body is constantly sending her mind astray. She attempts to mull over the fast approaching girls' night that she knows is bound to bring along endless awkward moments. But she can't focus when, in her mind, she's straddling Kimberley's face.  She ponders plane tickets and hotel arrangements for New York City but she can't be bothered when Kimberley is writhing beneath her, gasping her name. It's all consuming. And as she stares at the steam floating in front of her face, the whistling kettle coming back to clarity in her line of vision, she swears she can still feel Kimberley's hands on her. It isn't until she hears her voice that she realizes Kimberley is actually pressed up behind her with her arms snaked around her waist. 

"Good morning, beautiful," she says, huskily.   

Cheryl smiles lazily and turns around in her arms.  "Good morning, gorgeous," she says, taking in the goddess.   

Her eyes absorb the sight of Kimberley's sex hair, silk robe, and reddened bottom lip that she hadn't noticed earlier in the light of the bedroom.  She reaches a hand up to her face, cupping her cheek and running her thumb along the angry red mark.  And she can tell it's slightly painful by the awareness in Kimberley's eyes once her thumb makes contact. However twisted, somewhere in the back of her mind, Cheryl admires her handiwork.   

"Does it hurt?"  Cheryl whispers, a hint of concern in her voice as her eyes never leave Kimberley's mouth.   

Kimberley watches her intently, and after a moment, nods a fraction.  Cheryl furrows her brow in guilt.