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“Well, that’s it. This is the last pair of pants with a button that I can squeeze into for work.” Stevie glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, examining every possible angle and finding none of them acceptable. “Gonna be nothing but hikes and veggies, grilled chicken, and water until I can remedy this situation.” She unbuttoned the slacks, replaced them on the hanger, and returned to the mirror.
Rolls on her hips, pooch in her tummy, and a huge ass. All of those early hikes and Cabaret performances now lost to burgers on the road and established relationship feasts. She chewed on her thumbnail, spotting more imperfections, until she grunted in defeat and collapsed on the bed.
“Babe? Were you talking to me?” Bobbie wandered into their room, shrugging off the top of her flight suit and peeling out of the bottoms.
A pile of plaid and dark hair responded morosely, “Mmmph. Welcome home. Hiding behind my lumps of fat over here.”
Bobbie continued tossing clothes in the laundry basket, shaking her head and snickering as she made her way to the shower. “I’m going to wash off my post-work stink and I want you to stay right there. I’m coming back to get to the bottom of this in fifteen minutes, missy. Got it?”
“Fine.” Stevie buried herself further under the covers, cuddled in the softness of flannel, blanket, and sheets. She drifted in and out of consciousness, relaxing in the dark with the steady beat of the shower and Bobbie’s familiar singing.
A flash of light and a rush of air assaulted her senses, leaving Stevie sputtering and grasping for the covers. “Hey! I was following directions. No need for cruelty.” She stuck out her bottom lip and tried for those puppy-dog eyes that always seemed to work for Patrick.
“Scoot over, Stevie. I was feeling sympathetic earlier but you’re pushing it.” Bobbie crawled onto her side of the bed and opened her arms wide. “C’mere, baby. I wanna know what’s got you so out of sorts that you’re wallowing.”
Stevie tucked herself into Bobbie’s side, sliding her arms and legs around her. She gave a contented sigh and squeezed Bobbie’s ribs.
Bobbie grunted at the pinch. “Okay, love. You’re settled. Now, out with it.”
Stevie squirmed and tucked her nose further into Bobbie’s neck. “So, I know when we met I appeared, um, prone to seeking out physical improvement.”
“Stevie, I am well aware that exercise is new to your adult life. And now that I’m working at the hangar, I basically get paid to stay active. So if we don’t hike together that’s completely fine.”
“Yeah, that’s adorable but not where I was going with this. I — I can’t fit into my pants. Well, I can fit into my pajamas and sweats but not the ones I need for this fancy job I thought I should now spend all of my time and energy pursuing.” She pushed out her thoughts in a rush, embarrassed at how ridiculous and pathetic it all sounded.
Bobbie rolled her neck from side to side and sighed. She wiggled out of Stevie’s octopus grip, propped herself up on her elbow and stroked Stevie’s cheek, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry you are feeling unhappy with the shape of your body and that your clothes don’t fit. I’m into these curves you’ve been rockin’ as of late. Very sexy. I would also be happy to take your measurements so you can use that online alteration service David was talking about last week, what’s it called, Stitch Fix? I want you to feel comfortable while you’re sizing up and buying out motels across Canada.” Stealing a patented Alexis mood booster, she booped Stevie’s nose and pulled her in for a tight hug.
“Mmmmph mmmph mmph.” Stevie pushed back slightly and wriggled up the bed so her face mirrored Bobbie’s. “Much as I hate to admit it, I like the clothes idea. And I never had an issue with looking curvier before, but the Cabaret dancing and then hiking with you pushed my body in ways I never had before. And I hate to admit it but I kinda liked looking more, I don’t know, cute-girl sized.” She chewed her lip and looked down at the pillow. “Do you really like me looking like this more than when we were hiking all the time?”
“Stevie, I like all of it. I loved hiking with you and would be more than happy to re-arrange my schedule so we can do that when you’re in town. I love slapping your ass and watching it jiggle when we’re fucking, feeling your soft curves push up behind me when you crawl into bed, seeing you fill out that negligee I got you for your birthday.” She leaned forward, hesitated before her lips brushed Stevie’s, and whispered, “Wear your body like you want to Stevie.”
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Bobbie popped in her earbuds and picked the Elmdale college station on the radio app. She hummed along to “Sing to Me” by Cumulus , grateful the latest crop of students had decent taste. The hangar would meet safety standards but was hardly her finest cleaning job. Her mind kept drifting to Stevie, sizing herself up in the mirror. Jesus, the arch of her ass in the dress she wore to dinner last week . Bobbie had to watch herself rounding corners with the dust mop and shook her head to knock out the rest of her checklist.
Work finally complete, she grabbed her helmet, locked up, and hopped on her bike. She hit the kickstand with her heel and started the motorcycle , angling towards her favorite path to the house. They’d chosen the house for its distance from nosy neighbors (a headache that neither of them felt the need to tolerate any longer) and vicinity to the airstrip. Bobbie grinned into the wind and felt all of the day’s worries melt into the soft, peaty ground on either side of the wooded path.
She rounded a gentle turn and her mind drifted back to Stevie, spread out on their bed, writhing and moaning Bobbie’s name. She switched gears and floored it, thankful for the open stretch to let the engine show off—even if only to the wildlife.
She knew that Hank slipped his former sweetie at the DMV money every year to register the bike to a dummy name ‘living’ at one of his cabins. Hank never asked Stevie why they needed the registration off the record, just like she’d never pushed him as to why he needed Rosebudd Corp’s partial buy-out of the airfield. Bobbie was learning that Small Town Codes went as deep as Martian or military ones.
She parked in the back corner of the shed and hustled up the stairs to prep for date night, whistling mindlessly. Gods, she couldn’t wait to hear Stevie’s snappy little comeback to her change-up in plans. She glanced at the calendar by the kitchen door and grinned. Full moon indeed.
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Bobbie hauled wood to the pit and arranged it in a neat stack. “I think this will be a far better use of our time than another vid, er, movie night. Clearest night we’ve had for weeks and it’s finally late enough in the season that the bugs don’t eat me alive. Twenty-first century menace if you ask me.”
Stevie eyed the grill grate and wood warily. “Dinner cooked on the fire pit? Is that even safe?” She paused as her eyes continued to take in the surroundings. “Wait, I don’t care. Just don’t give me food poisoning or burn anything beyond recognition. You got this, babe.” Stevie planted a quick kiss to Bobbie’s head and headed back inside to change into date-night attire friendlier to low chairs and dust.
Several hours later, Stevie wiped grease and ketchup from her mouth with the back of her hand and took a long pull from her lager. “Oh babe, you were right. These burgers taste way better than Patrick’s. Something about that wood or the lack of fancy steel doodads.” She balanced the plate on the chair arm and eased back in the plastic seat. “Gotta admit though, the Brewer-Roses have us beat with seating. I think these chairs are going to be a tasteful present for Bree’s next… whatever she’s celebrating... and we’ll see what pops up on the Buy Nothing group or Marketplace.”
“Hmm, funny you should mention that.” Bobbie stacked the silverware on her plate and smiled mischievously. “Remember how I told you I was storing something for Hank? That was, um, a housewarming present from him and the guys at work. Be right back.”
Bobbie ducked into the shed and reappeared moments later, guiding a silver and paisley monstrosity on wheels—some kind of padded bench?—towards the fire pit. “The guys came across some well-maintained parts from a 1940’s bruiser of an airplane, including this bench. They buffed it up, covered it in weatherproof fabric, and surprised me about a week ago. Help clear a space and get it close to the pit?”
Once Stevie recovered her senses, she scurried to pull the cheap chairs out of the way and maneuver the bench with Bobbie to a safe but comfortable distance from the flames. “So a ‘1940’s bruiser.’ Care to elaborate?”
Bobbie steered and blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Hank’s roommate spotted a random CraigsList ad for parts from a 377 Stratocruiser, one of the biggest commercial airplanes ever made, and started joking about Hank being old enough to fly in World War II. Hank hated struggling to get in and out of our lawn chairs and fixed up the bench mainly to have a comfy seat at our next barbeque, selfish old geezer. Okay, how about we park it here?”
Stevie huffed an approval and Bobbie locked the wheels on all sides, jostling the top and sides to check for slippage. Once satisfied it was secure, she nodded to Stevie and they grinned, simultaneously bending deeply and jumping onto it with glee.
They landed with a thud and toppled into one another, giggling.. “Well, Bobbie, I can say that you have once again pulled off something I didn’t think was possible in my life—a positive surprise.” Stevie snuggled into Bobbie’s shoulder as she extended her arm behind Stevie’s back. Bobbie squeezed her shoulder as Stevie murmured, “Thanks, baby. This is perfect.”
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Several bottles of beer later, their stories flowed like water. Stevie’s tale of a mystery lodger at the Come On Inn who hung slips and stockings over all the windows reminded Bobbie of a crewman who never explained why he wouldn’t wash his socks. Bobbie shivered and grimaced at the memory. “Gods, it was gross. Never knew who told him that his sweetheart from back home got assigned to the next station over, but damn if we didn’t talk him up to the captain to get him moved there.”
They laughed and cuddled closer, cautious to respect the beings’ rules not to disclose secrets of the future but comfortable in their knowledge of each other’s personal worlds.
The tickle began behind Bobbie’s left ear and at the edge of the lobe, causing her to shiver and tip back first her hips, then her head. “ Stevie. ”
Stevie muffled her giggles in the expanse of Bobbie’s hair and nosed along her clavicle, her tongue darting out in tactical locations, not satisfied until she heard a persistent whine beneath her. She nipped Bobbie’s ear and whispered, “May I help you, Bobbie? Gonna use your words?”
Bobbie rolled her eyes and straightened her back. She threw her leg over Stevie’s lap and arched in one fluid movement, lowering herself at an infinitesimal rate.
Stevie squirmed beneath her, hitching her fingers behind Bobbie’s knees and pinching the tender skin.
Bobbie groaned and squeezed her thighs, grinding against Stevie and babbling into her ear, “Dirty little space mouse, nibbling and pinching me. Need to make you beg and scream as loud as you want to.”
“Oh yeah, where you gonna take me, baby? Take me to our room where can I yell for you while we fuck all the sheets off the bed? Or maybe,” Stevie slid her fingers under the hem of Bobbie’s shirt and along the waist of her joggers, skimming her belly and hips. “Maybe we should test out the durability of this all-weather material.”
Bobbie growled and pawed at Stevie’s shirt, unsuccessfully attempting to rid Stevie of her pesky clothes. “Yes, outside, wanna see you in the moonlight.”
Stevie covered Bobbie’s hands, stilled their fevered tugging, and lifted them to her temples. She flattened Bobbie’s hands and pulled her fingers along the roots. “I want you to work your fingers through my hair, Bobbie, and get a good firm grip. Go on, Marine, get to it.” Stevie’s fingers skipped along Bobbie’s shoulders, her ribcage, the swell of her hips and curve of her ass, gripping the crease where ass meets thigh and hauling her close.
Bobbie gripped Stevie’s hair, a slight twist of the wrist, before moving to smooth the hair at her crown.
Stevie bucked her hips, whining at the loss of intensity and yanked Bobbie forward, pulling their lips together.
Bobbie smiled into Stevie’s mouth, licking, nibbling, and sucking on her lips, fingers winding through her hair.
Stevie speared her tongue into Bobbie’s mouth, her focus intense and singular. “Too many clothes—must—off.”
Bobbie threw her head back and laughed till she snorted, constantly awestruck at Stevie’s blatant lust and ability to lose herself in the moment. She eased herself off the couch and pulled Stevie up after her, raising an eyebrow and stepping back.
Stevie gave a Cheshire Cat grin and popped the button on her jeans.
Bobbie chuckled, curious what brought about tonight’s urgency.
Stevie danced in a wobbly circle, kicking off her jeans and unbuttoning her shirt simultaneously, accomplishing little except dizziness. “Fuck, I used to be better at this.”
Bobbie popped up the seat of the couch, pulled out a camping blanket , and tossed it on the seat. She turned, closed the space between them, hooked her arms behind Stevie’s knees, and tossed her on the couch.
Stevie landed with a grunt but grinned in anticipation.
Bobbie’s eyebrows knit together and she pursed her lips, biting the corner. She tugged Stevie’s underwear off and made quick work of the shirt and bra as well. She shucked her own clothes and tossed them all on one of the neglected chairs, then stood at the end of the couch, hands on her hips and eyes steely. “Alright then, Stevie. The ‘too many’ clothes are off. What’s next on tonight’s agenda? This where we test the limits of our country living? Gonna howl at the moon?”
“How about a little contest? See who dares to get the loudest?” Stevie’s eyes flashed and she reached for Bobbie’s sturdy thighs, watching her mouth slacken as she guided her forward and blew a cool breath from hip to hip.
“Mmm and how do we judge this contest? I see no impartial judges and I’m not polling whatever wildlife enjoys this show. Jesus, that mouth, Stevie.”
Stevie alternated soft breaths, sloppy kisses, and bites to Bobbie’s thighs, inside and out, up and down, in no discernible pattern.
“Ohh, yes, Stevie, gods, yes. More—please, give me more. ”
Stevie tapped Bobbie’s thigh and Bobbie slid her legs further apart, leaning forward while she gripped Stevie’s shoulders. Stevie hummed and plunged forward, her tongue curving, curling, twisting up and down Bobbie’s pussy, over her clit, into her folds, pushing in and out, again and again. She gripped Bobbie’s ass, kneading and pinching, drawing her closer.
“Inside me, dammit, Stevie, need you inside me. Come on, you fucking tease. Give it!” Bobbie’s begging was louder than usual but Stevie was sure she could pull out more than that.
“Oh, thirsty,” Stevie tsked, reaching down for the newest bottle of Lick It Like You Like It . “Sure you want more? Really sure?” She coated her fingers and circled her index finger around Bobbie’s entrance, traced the edges of her labia, and tapped her clit.
“Fuck!” Bobbie yelled, jumping as the echo bounced off the trees. She slowed her breathing and curled, then relaxed, her toes. “Yes, Stevie, please, I want you inside me, now.” She sucked in a breath and moaned, pitching back and forth as Stevie thrust one and then two fingers in and out, varying rhythms and spreading her fingers to fill Bobbie’s quivering pussy. “Another, gods, another—gimme, your mouth—come on , Stevie.”
“I’ll put my mouth to work if you will. Want you to let anything in these woods know who you belong to.” Without waiting for an answer, Stevie speared a third finger and stroked Bobbie further along. She lapped at her sensitive nub, sucking, circling with the tip of her tongue, edging Bobbie onwards, joyful at her girlfriend’s panting, begging, and shouting.
Bobbie grabbed Stevie’s shoulders, calloused fingers clutching and releasing along her pressure points, pleasure scattering her senses and elevating her cries into the darkness. She skidded on the surge of pleasure, head dropped forward, back curved, and hands grabbing Stevie’s back and head.
Stevie nudged Bobbie back and slid to the side on the bench. Bobbie wobbled, eyes glassy and knees knocking, a wasted smile slapped on her face and hands patting Stevie’s head and shoulders. “It’s good, baby, it’s real good.”
Stevie smirked and guided Bobbie to sitting. “Oh yeah? Happy with my skills? That was quite a show you put on for our furry neighbors.” She reached for a water glass on the end table and handed it to her blissed-out girlfriend.
“Mmm,” Bobbie agreed, chugging the glass and handing it back. “Gonna need a minute and then we’ll see who takes the prize for outstanding vocal performance.”
“Ohhh, she has jokes. And how do you want me positioned for this performance, Ms. Draper?”
“First, I’ll ask you kindly to stand and help me up as well, Ms. Budd.”
Stevie stood and hoisted Bobbie up, shivering slightly in the evening air. “Something else I should know about this contraption?”
Bobbie squatted behind the couch, held the top of the backing, and popped releases at either end. She gently lowered the back to the ground, rearranged the blanket, and walked around to Stevie, grinning at her surprise. She rolled her hand and extended it to Stevie, bowing forward. “Darling, would you care to join me on our outdoor bed? Possibly to fuck my face?”
“I, uh, yeah, I’d love to do that.” Stevie followed Bobbie onto the bed, waiting for her to arrange herself and nod in Stevie’s direction before scooting to the top of the bed as well.
“Hop on, Stevie. Those owls want an encore.”
Stevie rolled her eyes and murmured, “For fuck’s sake,” throwing her leg over Bobbie’s shoulders and leaning forward, hands balancing in front of her. She stopped at Bobbie’s soft kiss to her thigh and hummed. Stevie walked her hands up and arched her back, fingers in her hair and head thrown back. “Please, Bobbie. God, I’ve wanted this all day.”
Bobbie nibbled at her thighs, fingers flexed and extended along Stevie’s hip bones, rubbing concentric patterns while her nails pressed into Stevie’s ass and dragged, leaving reddening lines from her lower back to the curve of her thigh. She spread Stevie open, smiling at the groan that followed from above, and circled her thumbs on Stevie’s soft, curly hair. Her tongue parted Stevie’s lips, darting up and down, swirling, pulling her further open.
“Oh, God—yes, Bobbie!” A small part of Stevie wondered if yelling into the darkness while naked was a bad idea but the rest of her brain, flooded with oxytocin, shoved these thoughts away. She rolled her hips, pulsing with need, shifting to steer Bobbie where she needed her to go and felt her pleasure build.
“That’s right, Stevie. Take what you need.” Bobbie’s tongue thrashed, diving between Stevie’s clit and her entrance, her fingers kneading her ass, pulling her close.
“There, God, right THERE!” Stevie shook, her release overtaking her, every nerve shocked with euphoria. She lowered her hands, preparing to slide down, when Bobbie’s tongue zipped across her clit again and she groaned, another rush cresting and crashing. “Bobbie, what the fuck?” She grabbed handfuls of Bobbie’s hair, tugging her to where she needed, grinding and moaning as she came again. She closed her eyes and released Bobbie’s hair, breathing deeply as the aftershocks rolled through.
“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” she muttered as she flopped to her side. “Ugh, I now miss those damn clothes. But you’ve fucked out all my energy and my voice.”
“Why are you whining at me? I’m clearly the winner here this evening, so you should be doing any fetching.”
Stevie slumped forward and landed on Bobbie’s chest, tickling her ribs and cuddling her close. “The odds of either of us conceding are so low they aren’t even worth calculating. I propose we count to five, push each other up, and get dressed. I’ll grab the food, you take care of the fire, and I’ll meet you in the shower. Deal?”
“Deal. Oh, and Stevie? Your ass looks fabulous in moonlight, just like it is.”