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"I have something to tell you guys, but you're gonna call me a slut."
In the Huntrix household, there is never a lack of colourful conversation over breakfast when Zoey is at the table. The recent weeks during their (actual, real) hiatus have been overflowing with Zoey's streams of consciousness, especially since the brief time she spent away from her girls to visit her childhood home in Burbank. Besides, Rumi and Mira had had enough of calm and quiet mornings after the first few days; Zoey's zany energy is more of a pick-me-up than the array of caffeinated beverages they share.
Rumi remarks as such from the head of the table. "That is a strong opener, Zo."
Ever fond of Zoey's enticing intros, Mira grins around the rim of her mug of black coffee. "Zoey, I call you a slut for slurping your ramyeon too loudly. I think doing something actually slutty would favour you, at this point."
The bright maknae seems emboldened by this claim, and she gulps her water to hydrate accordingly for what will clearly be her long-winded tale. "I didn't even tell my Cali friends this, and they were basically there when it happened. And, you know, I'm comfortable with you guys. Obviously."
Obviously. Huntrix is the home base for all three of the women, for varying reasons apart from their cosmic protection duties and booming musical career. Although Zoey took a much needed trip home to California to reconnect with the other half of her roots after the Saja Boys scandal, she was just as ecstatic to share her homecoming with her lovers through vivid stories and instant photos.
And so, although Mira is the last person to want to chat in the morning, she gives her sweetheart the floor. "Okay, slut. Proceed."
Proceed, Zoey does. "So, do you guys remember the cypher I told you about? I was in the audience, I was wearing the red bra - you know, the one that makes my boobs look big."
Rumi and Mira exchange a knowing glance. They know, because they helped her pack it, looking forward to the videos of Zoey hopping up and down. "We're familiar," Rumi offers.
"It's been so long since I've been able to be in a crowd like that. They had a dope DJ spinning in between battles, so I'm obviously shaking my ass."
It is an affront to their bond, Mira believes, that she couldn't be a fly on the wall, watching Zoey let loose on that dance floor. Choreography only allows for so much variation and self-expression, as does the career-preserving obligation to behave in public. There's a particular wildness in Zoey that she doesn't get to wear out often, a freak flag she doesn't always let fly. Mira can only picture, salivating, the freedom with which Zoey moves on her home turf, her small frame and fluid waist chasing the thumping bass, sweat flying off her bangs and dancing down her chest.
Feeling suddenly parched, Mira reminds herself to take a drink. And not to stare at Zoey so closely, unless she wants to get called out on her habit.
"I danced on and off with a couple of people, no big deal, but then... this girl."
Instantly, Mira returns her gaze to Zoey and her suddenly fond, dreamy expression. She watches Zoey chew on her bottom lip, tease the ends of her hair, grin until her eyes nearly disappear. The evergreen tells of a crush. So easy to spot over the years, so easy for Zoey to throw around; she's a big-hearted girl with wandering eyes.
Mira's heart, however? Not so big, and her eyes not so wandering beyond the women at her breakfast table. The growing suspicion is involuntary and gnawing.
"This girl - oh, my God, she smells like vanilla and sage and, like, oak? Anyway, she starts dancing behind me. Like, on me, like, 'her zipper is getting stuck on my back pockets' on me."
"Pictures! You know I need pictures." Rumi reaches across the table and flaps her hand in and out of a fist, like a baby reaching for a treat they can't have but desperately need. The speed at which Zoey produces the photo on her phone really proves that she'd been dying to share this story, and Rumi accepts the device with equal excitement. Mouth full of food, she lets out a loud moan. "Oh, yeah. I think I know where this story is going. Hot, right?"
Knowing that she won't get away with ignoring a phone in her face, Mira peers over her newspaper, the minimum amount possible to see the screen on Zoey's phone. Here she is, this apparently seductive stranger in a front-facing photo. She's an alternative type, pierced from the brows down to who knows where. Her skin is a deep shade of brown beneath patchwork tattoos and a black leather corset. Her black hair falls around her face in thick locs, like a fucking princess. Or a siren, with those bright piercing eyes.
Damn it. Mira purses her lips and guides her eyes back to next week's weather. "Yeah. Hot."
"We danced the whole set. She even kept her hands on my waist during the next round of the cypher. She had, like, twenty bracelets and a billion rings on. And she was so smooth, too - I told her I liked her nails, so she held my hands and said--" Zoey cocks her left eyebrow up and does a quick, cool tilt of her chin before continuing in a husky voice. " Take a closer look, babe.' Ho-o-o-ot. Hot!"
Mira chuckles behind closed lips and shakes her head. Basic, she thinks. Those were the moves Mira pulled on girls in high school, but it's an effective one nonetheless, especially on someone so affectionate as Zoey.
"So, anyway. I miss the last train home, and you guys know how much I've been spoiled by the cost of living here, so I'm feeling too cheap to get an Uber. This hottie from heaven reads my mind, and maybe she also knows I'm wet through my fucking jeans already, because she invites me home with her."
"Don't they teach you guys 'stranger danger' in America?" Mira's comment is not atypical of her usual sarcastic wheelhouse, but her delivery falls just short of deadpan, making it more of an interjection than anything.
Thankfully, Zoey is more than able to keep up with Mira's quips. "For children, yes. For me, Zoey, an adult bisexual who is evidently very vulnerable to hot people? I'm going places I wouldn't even go with Gwi-Ma on my side. Keep up!"
That's Mira's carefree girl. She can't help but break her purposeful frown to smirk at Zoey, who is happy to seamlessly continue her tale.
"She cracks open some soju, which makes me a little homesick, so we're drinking and talking about traveling and family, but I'm distracted because her hand is like--" Zoey stands from her seat and hikes up her massive sleep shirt, using one hand to hold it just under her tits and slapping the free one at the lower hem of her boyshort underwear. "-- here, the whole time. Rubbing me."
Mira stares at Zoey's exposed body. She can feel the sensation of Zoey's ultra smooth skin in her palms from across the table and can map out all of her freckles and beauty marks, even the ones that she can't see from her current angle. Zoey is so willy-nilly about nudity, especially in pursuit of a well-told story, that it makes Mira wonder if Zoey understands how beautiful she actually is, if she knows how much Mira reveres her.
"Naturally, I have to call her out on that. And the way she was staring at my lips while I talked about being lactose intolerant when there's cheese in half the street food here."
"You have to stop sharing that with people you think are hot." Rumi frowns. "So gross."
"But it worked, Rumi, because I got fucked! Fucked!" Zoey drops her shirt in exhilaration and claps her hands, having reached the thesis of her tale. "She was a total top. She didn't even take my clothes off the first time around. Just... pulled my shirt up and put her hand down my pants. Ahh, I felt so dirty!"
Zoey covers her face and screams, which provides excellent cover for Mira to roll her eyes. Fucking clothed is half of what her and Zoey do, minutes before heading onto stage, and Mira happily clips Zoey's stockings back onto her garters afterwards. Seals it with a kiss, every time. This thing Zoey's describing, getting fingered in a dingy apartment, it's whatever. It's grating to hear Zoey talk about this with such excitement when her and Mira have gotten into far more exciting situations in the past week since Zoey's been home.
"If I thought I couldn't feel my legs after that, the second time around-- huh! I had a big storm coming. A couple more shots and she puts me on my back, like, I'm talking, legs in the air and--"
Grotesque as ever, Zoey fans her hands out beside her face and wildly wags her tongue left to right, making gurgling sounds from the back of her throat. While Rumi does a spit take with her green tea, Mira turns her head away so sharply that a shooting pain radiates up the side of her neck. Her resulting "Ugh!" is a reaction to the self-inflicted wound, and the immature visual Zoey shares.
Unfazed by the range of reactions, Zoey sits back down in her chair and bangs her fist on the table to emphasize, "For an hour. I swear. I was still so sensitive from the first time, so I was probably way too loud for that time of night..."
Now, all Mira hears is static. The tension in her neck radiates up her forehead and scalp, and her teeth grind together inside her mouth. Selfishly, Mira's reaction would have been milder if Zoey had a lame hookup with this person she would never see again, but the encounter was clearly unforgettable. Zoey speaks about this with the same candor as the nights they've shared running on post-show adrenaline and celebratory champagne. Zoey talks, Mira feels, as if she's never been touched right before. It's a slight, in her mind.
Once the static fades out and Mira tunes back in, it becomes ultra evident that her fiery train of thought is showing on her face. Zoey's excitement has quickly faded into neutrality and Rumi's paused the spit take cleanup to study whatever must be happening in Mira's expression.
A cool shrug concludes Zoey's sordid tale. "Anyways... I was back in bed before my dad was even up for work the next morning. Told the friends I came with that I just went home early. So, uh, yeah. Fun night."
As usual, Rumi is quick to dissolve the tension that comes off Mira in waves and that Zoey is rapidly absorbing. "Well, I, for one, think you deserved the warm welcome home. You've more than earned a little hookup after what we've been through."
Rumi winks at Zoey and collects the empty plate in front of her, stacking it on top of her own. Zoey blows Rumi a kiss, cutely with her fingertips, on her way to join her elder in cleaning the breakfast table. The leftover sweetness dissolves from Rumi's face when she points at Mira's mostly full dish and, with all the gentleness of a waitress working a midnight shift, asks Mira, "You done?"
Mira casts a side eye at Rumi, as the double meaning is not lost on her. She throws the newspaper aside and lets Rumi take the plate. "Fucked up my neck."
"Being negative will do that to you," Rumi says quietly with a cautionary sideways glance at Zoey, who is distracted from dish duty by her phone. Rumi leans into Mira as she rubs her neck. "What is your problem right now?"
Pointedly avoiding eye contact, Mira gestures sharply to the newspaper with her opposite hand. "My problem is that it's going to feel like forty-three degrees next Saturday. I'm on too many medications to withstand this heat."
"Mira, I need more medication to withstand you."
Rumi jests, but she sets her stack of dishes on the dining table to take over Mira's neck massage. Mira lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding and clutches Rumi's forearm, admiring her now-familiar marks. Rumi smells like jasmine and lavender, leftover scents from her bath; the combination is therapeutic to Mira's muddled mind. She stands there, rubbing Mira's neck, until Zoey's footsteps pitter patter out of the room and down the hallway.
"Okay, Mira." Rumi sighs and pulls up a chair next to her bandmate. She sets her elbows firmly on the table and puts her chin in her hands. "Talk."
Rumi's magical fingers have taken away Mira's excuse to do something with her own hands. Instead, Mira folds her arms across her ribs and sinks into her seat, bounces her leg under the table. She sneers, "I'm not a prude, you know."
"I know, which is why I don't understand why you weren't asking Zoey for video evidence. I missed her, too, but this is new, even for you."
"I just..." Mira is quick to start her answer, but is meditative about her next words. The truth would be too easy to roll off the tongue, too embarrassing to say out loud just yet to either of her girls. So, she elects for the obvious. "I get protective over Zoey. She's too... friendly. She's lucky she doesn't run into more trouble."
"Mm. Counterpoint: she can also defend herself." Rumi taps a fingernail against Mira's folded arm. "We fight demons together, you know."
"People are a different kind of demon, Rumi. They get possessive, and jealous, and--" Mira, in a moment of introspection, ends her sentence before she gives Rumi further bait for questioning. "I'm not saying she's not independent, or needs me to protect her. I just... get freaked out by the whole 'going home with strangers' thing."
Rumi scoffs. "Mira, come on. Aren't you the 'wild child'? You've done crazier things than have sex with someone who you danced with a couple of times."
Mira knows she's a hypocrite. Zoey, at least, made it to the end of the party without passing out or taking too much of something, and she clearly remembers the face of who she had sex with. Most of Mira's successes have been on the last of these three fronts, in the last few years, almost exclusively with Zoey and Rumi.
It's annoying when Rumi sees her. "Sue me," is all Mira can offer.
"I also know..." Rumi slows her speech in a way that alerts Mira to the fact that Rumi is getting in her head about something or the other. She wets her lips and says, "I also know you and Zoey have had your... thing... for longer. So I know it's different for you two than it is, you know, with... others."
There it is, Mira thinks. That nagging inadequacy that only Rumi assigns to herself, the kind that refused to go away overnight, even with a sealed Honmoon. It holds onto Rumi in smaller ways these days - typically, heartbreakingly, when it comes to the gap between her and her girls because of her secrets. They try their best to patch this hole Rumi tends to fall in with dates that are intentionally attuned to her interests and needs, sweet words to remind her that she is their glue, deep admiration of her marks on intimate nights.
"Hey, Rumi." Mira takes Rumi's chin in her fingertips before she has the chance to refuse eye contact. Mira speaks firmly, clearly. "All we have wanted is for you to be a part of our thing. You are what makes our thing."
Smiling slyly, Rumi leans into Mira's palm. "There was a bit there where you could've fooled me."
Affronted, Mira prods, "How? When?"
"The first couple of times, you used to get mad when I would touch Zoey." Rumi snorts. "Not mad mad, you would just kind of frown for a second before you got over it. I don't think you even noticed."
Mira turns up her nose at the accusation that sounds a lot like something she might have done. "I don't recall."
"Which I think is your problem now. You're feeling threatened by someone who isn't part of our thing making Zo happy."
"You make me sound like a psychopath," Mira grumbles.
"You are, in a loving and endearing way." Mira tries to take her hand away from Rumi's face for agreeing with the self-deprecating remark, but Rumi's reflexes are faster than Mira's spite; she holds Mira's hand in both of hers, cradling Mira's fingers. "It just might do you some good to remind Zoey about the 'loving and endearing' part. Also, because she definitely wasn't done with that story and I want to hear the rest."
Mira, against her better judgement, throws her head and exclaims in disgust once again. "Ugh-- ow! Fuck!"
Rumi lets out an "ugh" of her own and stands. "Stay here, I'm getting the Tiger Balm."
Mira is dizzy. "I don't want Tiger Balm."
The objection is useless, as Mira only has the strength to argue under her breath. She's sick of Rumi trying to make her feel better with words and balm. She only wants to stew, cradle her neck and ruminate on why Zoey's story has her so upset.
It's easy to pick apart why Rumi might possibly, allegedly, think that Mira has her claws in Zoey; for a long time, it was Zoey and Mira together. Zoey and Mira, watching American cartoons together when they couldn't sleep, helping each other switch out their body jewelry, navigating Rumi's weirdness, before and after they understood what that "weirdness" meant.
Zoey and Mira, taking advantage of having a separate dressing room from their bandmate who was too preoccupied with her own troubles to worry about a scandalous relationship going on right under her nose.
Zoey, who pretended to be coy and shy, letting Mira read her naughty fantasy notebooks and trusting Mira to make them come true.
Mira, whose intimate desires have been shoveled into the depths of the things she keeps secret, are met with Zoey's sensual warmth and excitement, openness.
It's fucking special. Zoey's fucking special and should be fucked in a special way, unless it's a night where she wants to be made love to or to be a voyeur to Rumi and Mira. It isn't jealousy as much as... mistrust, really, that anyone could meet Zoey's needs without knowing her intimately and deeply. The way that Mira does.
Mira stews all throughout Rumi's application of the pungent balm on her strained muscle.
She wishes that the girl in the photo was uglier, or didn't have cool clothes that Mira wants for herself.
She wishes the stranger was bad at eating pussy, or was stingy with her alcohol.
She wishes she could stop trying to find holes in Zoey's good time, because she loves, genuinely loves, that Zoey had a good time in a place where she often feels displaced.
Mira wishes she was there, maybe?
Maybe that's why Mira invites Zoey to her room for quiet time that afternoon. To feel close to Zoey, to keep that piece of gold in her den like a dragon. Because Zoey has a heart of gold, she's happy to just share oxygen with her loved ones, even if it looks like Zoey reviewing more vacation photos while Mira is deeply embroiled in a novel.
Mira does have a novel open, but she is far from embroiled in it. She's barely simmered in it, just staring at an inconsequential sentence on the page. Because at the foot of Mira's bed, Zoey lays on her stomach, rear on display in those tight black panties, humming as she scrolls through the gallery on her phone. She's swapped her sleep shirt for a crop top, so Mira can spot new freckles on the smooth curve of Zoey's back.
Mira pictures Zoey tanning. Laid out flat on a towel on one of those pretty beaches from the postcards, eyes closed peacefully as she sunbathes. Maybe her hair is up in the awkward bun with the flyaways at the nape of her neck. Maybe she's topless, half of her bikini stuffed in her bag...
Zoey releases a honking laugh that cuts through Mira's fantasy like a hot knife through butter. "Dude, did I show you this picture of balls someone spray painted on my old high school? It's so detailed. Like, I think they had a model."
The balls are up and over Mira's book before she has the chance to verbally accept the offer. She knows they won't go away until she gives Zoey a response. She settles on commenting, "That model is more hairless than me right now."
"Right? Haha." Zoey takes her phone back and swipes two times. "This is me on my year's grad plaque. Look. I was so small!"
Mira doesn't need a photo to know Zoey was adorable in high school, a budding flower waiting to make her mark on more than just Burbank. Someone Mira would have beat the shit out of a whole classroom for. But, she looks anyway, and humors Zoey by blowing a few kisses to the picture.
"So weird being back home." Zoey's tone is contemplative as she peruses her captures from the month away. "Is it weird that I feel less out of place there now than I did before?"
Mira looks at Zoey's thoughtful expression over her book. "You're a big girl now, Zo. You've got your voice now; it goes everywhere with you."
The brightness in Zoey's gaze is exactly what Mira hopes for every time she musters up her nicest, most supportive words for her girls. And it's contagious, making Mira grin, too.
The exchange has eased some of the tension that hangs in Mira's mind. For a moment, things are calm, normal for Mira until Zoey shuts off her phone screen and lies fully prone, her head on her arms. Her big, brown, overbearing eyes are laser focused on Mira, who is laser focused on ignoring the suggestive stare and grin.
Fuck. Mira really does hate it when Zoey does this. It's scarier than when she's in the throes of a rap verse, or a horde of demons. The change is so subtle, but the outcome is so noticeable. That shift from tooth-rottingly sweet to smotheringly sexy. Dropping her eyelids, batting her lashes, lips pouted just so.
Mira hates it because this feeling, these butterflies and sense of unpredictability that erupt in her from just a glance, makes her nervous. Nervous in the way Mira almost exclusively makes others, so nervous that she almost feels empathy for the people she intimidates.
Zoey has the gall to let her hair down from her go-to buns, letting it brush just past her shoulders. She runs her hands through her dark tresses; Mira wants to reach out and pet her. "Mira, you didn't let me finish my story earlier."
"What, the one about the balls?" Mira redirects her attention to her novel and even turns a page for flair. "You changed the subject to show me a picture of you as an awkward kid. I didn't realize I should've brought up the balls again."
"You know that's not what I mean." Zoey's chuckle is tinted with a sultry tone that makes Mira peer over the gold frame of her glasses. This was a mistake; the eye contact makes Zoey bite her lip. Activated. "I meant about the girl I fucked."
Something about Zoey's crass speech triggers Mira's hypocrisy. The perceptive young woman knows very well that Mira would encourage her secret pottymouth streak more, were it not for Rumi's leading hand and knowledge of Zoey's lack of filter. Zoey's slick tongue turns Mira on more often than not, so she knows that Zoey is trying to get a rise out of her.
However, Mira isn't in the mood to give her the satisfaction. She retorts, "The girl you fucked? From the sound of it, she fucked you. Besides, like you said, you got home, told your friends you went to bed, whatever. End of story has been received."
"That's the end of the story, but I'm not done the story." Zoey scrunches her nose at Mira as she grins, freckles dancing across her smug expression. "You know, you can really play dumb sometimes."
The sneaky little dig makes Mira fold her book closed, bookmark be damned. Eyes narrow, Mira watches the smile grow on Zoey's face and she gains a quick understanding of how Zoey plans to get under her skin today. Zoey's craving more of the vigor Mira showed earlier that day when she revealed an unfortunate crack in her façade, because Zoey doesn't care about Mira's penchant for nonchalance.
Even so, pretending she cares less about things, if not at all, has been the name of Mira's game for most of her life. And Zoey has given her a pass to be a bit of a bitch with the "playing dumb" comment, so she folds her hands neatly over the hardcover book in her lap and smiles tightly at Zoey.
"You know what? You're right. Remind me to be more inquisitive about getting a hand down your pants next time."
"Don't pretend you don't like it when I tell you about Rumi touching me."
Because it's Rumi, Mira would like to point out, but that would derail the conversation and show her hand too quickly. She's tight-lipped and wordless, especially once Zoey gets on her hands and knees before her. Zoey carelessly tosses Mira's book off her lap, which she knows Mira would normally bicker with her about, but the situation at hand has Mira focused on other things, such as Zoey closing the distance between them with a jaguar-like crawl.
"Besides... I have a secret for just us. Don't you want to hear it?"
Zoey's warm breath rolls across Mira's steadily heating cheeks as she offers the bait. Secrets have been a touchy concept due to recent events, and few do exist between the trio anymore. By even saying the word, Zoey alludes to something more nostalgic and loaded.
In the interest of this, Mira folds her arms across her chest and tilts her chin at Zoey. "I'll humor you."
"Do you remember when we got that new toy a few months ago?"
Not a beat skipped, and Mira's suspicions are confirmed. Her mind races the fastest it has all day. Although her eyes are trained on Zoey, Mira is far from focused on the goings-on, the memories outpacing her ability to respond.
"The one we thought might be too big for me." Zoey's fingertips graze Mira's inner thigh, where her shorts end, and the contact feels like a series of lightning bolts against Mira's skin. Her smile is soft and fond, sweeter than the topic warrants. "Remember, Mira?"
Mira is insulted by the notion that she could have forgotten. Although the dildo was a perfect fit for Mira's harness, it was certainly more sizable than their usual. She remembers how thoroughly she warmed Zoey up to take her and how eager Zoey was to get acquainted with Mira's new equipment, opposite the wiser judgement of the wearer.
All of the tastes flood onto Mira's tongue again. She wets her lips and shrugs, staring at Zoey's hand as it moves. "I remember."
"Well, the one she was wearing wasn't nearly the same size. But, maybe that's why I was so willing to take it, you know?"
Mira remains flustered, but another emotion bursts inside of her at Zoey's words. Now that Zoey's woken up the sultry memory on which Mira is still stuck, something about Zoey being even half as eager to be filled by someone else is hard for Mira to wrap her brain around. The thought of Zoey explaining things about her body that Mira already knows intuitively borders on upsetting.
"I needed it so badly, too, after she went down on me so long."
Mira thinks back to Zoey's incessant begging that night as Mira worked on her, getting her wet and loose with any method that came to mind before entering her. The distant sound of Zoey's breathless whining of her lover's name echoes through Mira's skull.
It's then, as Mira remains stunned into silence, that Zoey changes positions again. Going for the jugular, Zoey straddles the width of Mira's crossed legs, pressing her thighs into the spread lap below her. She moves slowly as a favor to Mira, who is frozen in place with her arms still folded in defense despite the very open woman in her lap. Regardless, Zoey's hands default to their spot on Mira's chest, with her fingertips resting on Mira's exposed collarbone on top of her t-shirt.
"And if you would just listen to me, you'd know that I fucked her because I rode her the way I rode you that day. Something like this, right?"
It seems to all click in Mira's one-track, sex-addled brain now. She finds herself wishing Zoey had just started the story off that way, and Mira would have been completely enthralled. Even so, not nearly as enthralled as she is by Zoey's legs shifting into a crouch, her feet planted on the mattress, trapping Mira between her thighs. Zoey's hands grasp Mira's knees behind her, like a kickstand.
Whatever imaginary thing Mira was trying to be mad at is instantly gone from her brain when Zoey starts to lazily drag her clothed crotch against Mira's lap. Mira holds herself tighter around her ribcage as Zoey mimics her method of riding Mira's cock, hovering gracefully and winding her hips in slow and purposeful patterns.
Zoey's eyes never leave Mira's, even if the latter's gaze is scattered across her moving body. Once Mira catches the glance, Zoey laughs - airy, teasingly. The sound is nearly identical to the elated giggle she let out when she was able to slip Mira's entire length inside of her that night. Zoey may be clothed now, but all Mira can see is her lover's nude form pinning her to the bed in low lighting, glued to hers by slick and sweat, each muscle beckoning towards Mira as she strains against the girth inside her.
Zoey's eyes are closed now, her head rolled back as she leans into Mira's knees. Then, a twitch of her brows. "Mm. Why do you smell like Tiger Balm?"
"Zoey." Mira breaks her defensive stance to hold onto Zoey's moving hips in an effort to also hold onto the younger woman's attention. Refusing to recreate the tinge of a begging tone that she just let slip, Mira stares at Zoey until her eyeballs burn, waiting for Zoey to stop being so blissed out and in the moment . How dare Zoey just go somewhere else in her mind with the flip of a switch after winding Mira up so much?
"I think it's because you clench your jaw so much. It's not good for your neck." Zoey's top rides up the longer she does, treating Mira to small flashes of her breasts. She smiles like she's satisfied with her observation, uncaring for the victim of her movement beneath her. "You're so tense about everything. I swear, you're worse than Rumi sometimes."
Mira exhales shakily. "Zoey."
Mira gets to catch the breath she was rapidly losing when Zoey stops moving altogether, but holds it altogether when Zoey mirrors her earlier posture by folding her arms. Although Mira gets the notion that she's done something wrong, she's unable to slow the sordid visions that race in her mind quickly enough to pivot before Zoey's demeanor shifts.
"Oh, now you're interested. I wouldn't have gotten that from the way you were ignoring me this morning."
Zoey's accusatory tone and suspicious expression send a real chill up Mira's spine. Not to mention, Zoey can be intimidating when she's on top, higher than Mira when the latter usually doesn't even have to bother straightening her posture to keep eye contact with others. Mira's not even sure if she's allowed to touch Zoey right now, so she freezes her hands in place.
"I was not ignoring you." Mira's defense is true; she was simply neck-deep in a stew of her own defensiveness against someone who, to their credit, showed Zoey a really good time.
"'Stranger danger,' Mira? Seriously?" Zoey's squat is more of a perch now as she enhances the phrase with air quotes. "You are the most jealous polyamorous person I've ever met, and I've dated almost half the poly girls in the Bay Area."
Ugh, jealous. Mira hates that word. If she must be insulted for having a big heart and protective tendencies, she would prefer the word "territorial," because why shouldn't she stay on top of what's hers, ensuring all is in order? Ensuring her lovers' pleasure?
Unfortunately, naturally, Mira is obligated to deflect as quickly as possible. "Don't be so modest. You've dated seventy-five percent of the poly girls in the Bay Area. You only missed out on the last quarter because you moved to Korea."
"Mira!"
"Sorry, sorry. Zoey, it's..." Mira's voice gets quieter as she tries to summon an explanation that's close enough to the truth as she will allow herself to get. In hopes to buy herself some more time and rid herself of some of her anxiety, Mira starts to rub circles into Zoey's hips with her thumbs. "Can you, like, blame me if I get a little wigged out when you talk about going home with people you just met? You know I get worried about you."
There is a hint of pity in Zoey's glance that makes Mira's brow twitch, but her overall gaze is so soft and loving that Mira can allow it for now. Still, Zoey takes the opportunity to jab. "Ooh, you worry about me? You wanna protect me? That's so Daddy of you."
Mira bites down on the inside of her lip. Zoey keeps telling her that vulnerability is sexy, which, to Mira, is total horseshit, but Zoey is intent on reinforcing this like a Pavlovian reward. It's also hard to be stubborn about it with Zoey still in her lap, smiling coyly.
"Don't patronize me." Mira's palms slide onto Zoey's rear, testing the waters.
"I'll stop when you do." Zoey puts her hands on Mira's shoulders and gives them a firm squeeze. "I can take care of myself. You know that, right?"
Mira rubs the small of Zoey's back, remembering the freckles there that she's memorized. "I know, I know. You're so tough, ZoZo. Unfuckwithable."
"Thank you. That's what I needed to hear."
Zoey's tone is satisfied and triumphant. Mira knows that Zoey is aware that she "lets" her win their petty arguments, because Mira's tongue cuts like steel. Perhaps Mira's refusal to use that sharpness on Zoey is the victory in and of itself.
The surrender also gives Mira time to give clearer attention to what Zoey spoke about and generously acted out moments ago. As Zoey twirls the strands of hair that frame Mira's face, her natural warmth radiating between the two of them, Mira feels much more inclined to curiosity in this intimate moment.
Voice low and husky, Mira asks, "Did you tell her how to take care of you?"
Zoey's victorious grin grows into an impish smile. She gazes at Mira through her pretty thick eyelashes. Her hands fall onto Mira's shoulders with flirtatious gentleness.
"Didn't have to. I just made her watch me."
Mira smiles widely and lets her hands glide back and forth along Zoey's ass. She knows her girl likes to be watched - she's a performer, after all, and it's one of the many ways she's able to take full command of a room and the people in it. From there, Zoey has a whole new method of being. It's an extraordinary sight, especially when you're underneath her.
Mira asks another prying question. "Did you say the wrong name?"
"W-Well. That's the thing." Zoey bites her bottom lip and shrugs. "I don't know her name."
The gasp that Mira lets out is scandalized and involuntary. She covers her mouth with her fingertips while Zoey bats at her shoulders and squeals. "Slut," Mira declares.
Zoey gives Mira's shoulders an enthusiastic double tap with her palms. "That's what I was trying to say earlier, dummy! And! I also smoked all her weed."
Mira holds Zoey's chin between her thumb and forefinger and gives the maknae's face a little wag. "Oh, that's my good girl."
Zoey erupts into a fit of elated giggles that makes her eyes and cheeks scrunch up. She folds over and buries her face in the side of Mira's neck as she giggles, pressing her nose into the Tiger Balm that she noted earlier. The touch doesn't make Mira sore because the sensation of melting into Zoey - her sweet, slutty, silly Zoey - is enough to heal almost anything.
It's also enough to boot out the last of that negative energy Mira had been carrying around all day to make room for how turned on she is by the story. All of it: Zoey's seductive dance, her big brown eyes rolling back in her head, her body writhing on a messy bed as she comes...
"So." Mira keeps one hand on Zoey’s ass and moves the other to glide her palm along Zoey’s exposed belly. She has to bite back a chuckle when feels the younger girl’s muscles twitch in surprise and then quickly relax. "Did you come?"
Zoey inhales deeply through parted lips and exhales, "When I thought of you."
Now, Mira is emboldened. She gets a feeling that Zoey's shifting gears from the getting to the thesis of her long-winded story to making sure Mira knows why she saved this part of it just for her. Zoey has given Mira room to take the answers to the questions she knows are burning inside her.
Mira is quick to do so. Now, both of her hands run across Zoey's torso, winding along her sides and stomach but stopping just under her breasts. She commands, "Tell me what you thought about."
"When we-- mm-- when we finally got it in?" Zoey swallows hard and her dewy gaze shifts around the room before meekly meeting Mira's eyes. "The way you... you pounded me."
That's when the evening turned into one of their more intense sessions. Zoey had been riding confidently for some time before she started to beg for Mira to fuck her back, flush-faced and bottom lip shining with drool. Mira supposed that her upward motions from below hit a different set of nerves because the first few thrusts sent Zoey wailing, but the begging only intensified. So followed Mira's movements, and Zoey's cries.
The memory seems to be tugging at Zoey's threads, because there is nothing teasing about the way she starts to move her hips again. This time, it's intentional. Chasing. Her first real moan, full and breathy, falls from her lips and goes straight to Mira's core. Like a jolt of electricity has just burst through her nervous system, Mira rushes to latch onto Zoey further. Her hands guide Zoey's hips to grind down further, encouraging Zoey to properly claim the seat below her.
"You wish it was me inside you that night." The cocky assessment from Mira makes Zoey moan again. Zoey's mistake; that sound only serves to feed Mira's ego. She pries, "Didn't you, Zoey?"
Zoey squeezes her eyes closed and presses her eyebrows together, confessing, "You fucked me so good, Mira. I came so hard. Both times.”
Mira assumes the second time had to have been with Zoey's mystery hookup, because she could only stomach one orgasm that size once Mira was done with her. Slept like a bear in winter afterwards, to boot. Nothing feels quite as good to Mira as giving her lovers a good night’s rest by putting them through the mattress first. The way Zoey moves in her lap now is surely something to savour similarly.
“Who made you come harder?”
Mira remembers the way Zoey thrashed on top of her, body twitching and hips jerking as Mira held her down. She remembers wanting Zoey to feel every ridge of her cock as she clenched around it. Those big brown eyes rolling back, pretty lips parted, freckled cheeks shining with sweat…
Now, Zoey looks down at Mira with a massive smile. “That's a stupid question.”
Always one to finish what she starts, Zoey grasps both sides of Mira's head and draws her lover in for a messy kiss. Mira wasn't done teasing yet - she wanted to ask Zoey if she still screamed, just to complete the filthy picture in her head. And yet, she finds it hard to complain with Zoey's tongue in her mouth. Zoey chases Mira's lips as if Mira had any hesitations, hungry and gasping for air as quickly as possible to keep devouring her lover. She whines happily when Mira grabs her ass to keep herself from getting knocked over by the force of the kiss.
Zoey pulls back to bite down hard on Mira's bottom lip and press her forehead to Mira's, gasping for air. Mira, noticing Zoey's particular sensitivity, takes advantage of the airspace to deliver a command.
“Take your top off.”
Zoey obeys without a moment's hesitation and pulls the crop top over her head. She rushes to grasp her own tits before Mira can, palms pressing into her pierced nipples as she squeezes herself. Needy. She bites her lip and tells Mira, “It's so hot when you tell me what to do.”
“Then let me touch you.”
Mira gruffly responds and takes Zoey's wrists to move the younger woman's hands away, quickly replacing them with her own. Zoey's tits are a perfect handful, soft and ultra sensitive. The sounds that spill out of Zoey carry into surprise when Mira sinks her teeth into her neck and collarbones with all the confidence of someone with the cosmetic arsenal to cover the darkest of hickies. Once she's satisfied with the bright, shiny marks she's left there, Mira raises her chin to lick the shell of Zoey's left ear, along the metal of her piercings. She's excited by the twitch in Zoey's spine and bites down on her earlobe to see what else that triggers.
“Oh, my God,” Zoey gasps. “I'm so horny, Mira.”
It's unlike Mira to rush through her teasing, but Zoey's low, desperate tone breaks her resolve. She slides one of her hands down Zoey's abdomen and uses her thumb to press into Zoey's panties. Damp, slick, hot - what Mira suspected she'd find. One of Mira's favourite things about fucking Zoey is the fact that she gets so wet and so impatient, so easily. It's how she's ended up on her knees in front of Zoey in so many bathrooms and saunas and alleyways, or with Zoey's wandering hands on her thighs during movie nights.
How Zoey ended up fucking a stranger, but climaxing when she thought about her lover back home.
Mira has to admit, it is pretty hot.
“Take these off,” Mira whispers, hooking her index finger around the crotch of Zoey's underwear. The slippery feeling on Mira's knuckle as it grazes Zoey's pussy makes her bite down hard on her bottom lip. “Now.”
Since Zoey is still crouching, it makes sense for her to stand over Mira to peel her boyshorts off. Looking up at Zoey like this, though, Mira feels like she's bossing a goddess around. Every curve, beauty mark and scar makes up the work of art that is Zoey, and Mira plans to worship her, especially once Zoey's underwear falls into her lap.
“You're staring,” observes Zoey from above, poking Mira's nose with her index finger. She cradles Mira's chin in her palm and says, “I like it when you stare.”
Mira carefully shifts onto her knees and wraps her arms around Zoey's hips. Zoey's flirty stance quickly disappears once she has to hold onto the wall behind the bed to keep steady, especially once Mira uses her knees to coax Zoey's calves further apart. Once Zoey regains her balance, Mira gazes up at her to make sure Zoey feels the appreciation in her stare before she lets Zoey feel it in her touch.
Mira dives forward with an open, eager mouth. Her lover's taste explodes on her tongue, sweet and salty and unmistakably Zoey. Her eyelids flutter closed and she groans at the overwhelm of decadence on her senses; Zoey's soft and tender skin under her coarse hair, the stiff clit immediately meeting Mira's tongue, the heady scent flooding her nose as she buries it into Zoey's mound.
Mira hugs Zoey's hips tightly to settle into her rhythm, sliding her tongue deep between Zoey's lips. She engages that extra bit of strength to keep Zoey in place despite her trembling legs. Easy to summon, with Zoey already so vocal above her.
“Mira, Mira, yes," Zoey praises in a so-sweet tone. Mira feels Zoey's fingers start to run through her hair, trying to get it away from Mira's face, to see her. “Please. Please."
Asking so nicely - that's my good girl, Mira wants to tell her. Instead, she shows Zoey her appreciation by closing her lips around Zoey's pussy, drawing the flesh into her mouth to treat it even more intimately with quick strokes of her tongue. Zoey shouts and writhes against the contact, but lets Mira hold her, lets Mira taste her.
The longer Mira serves her, the more Zoey's words devolve into gibberish, a slurry of moans and half-thoughts. From what Mira can understand, what she's doing feels so good, and Zoey needs more, Mira, more. Mira lets herself get messy, happily burying her face between Zoey's spread thighs and kissing Zoey's pussy with the same fervor that they used to kiss each other moments ago. Even now, Zoey's exhilarated laugh is contagious, making Mira smile from below.
By the time Mira has Zoey's juices running down her jaw and neck, Zoey's voice is a low and insistent growl as she rocks her hips against Mira's mouth. Despite, and because of Mira's best efforts, Zoey's knees are starting to buckle, more of her weight starting to rest on Mira's face by the second.
“I need you inside me.” Zoey twitches again, but rides it out, grinding down onto Mira's open mouth. “Fuck me. Mira, I need you to fuck me.”
Mira sucks hard for good measure before she pulls away to respond. “How do you want me?”
“I don't fucking care, just fuck me. Fill me.”
Ooh, Mira loves it when Zoey gets like this. Demanding and potty-mouthed and frustrated, losing herself to Mira and happy to take anything Mira is willing to give her. Zoey is happy to let Mira move her body around since she's already melting into the bed, so happy that she's moaning at absolutely nothing when Mira puts her on her back. So very happy that she rolls over onto her hands and knees to present herself to Mira on all fours, looking back expectantly with dewy eyes and a pussy that's twice as shiny.
Mira wolf-whistles and rubs her palms together. “Oh, Zoey. ”
Mira relaxes onto her haunches to keep eating Zoey out before the latter can say something so wildly sexy that would make Mira lose control. Zoey reaches behind herself to grab Mira's hair by the scalp and push her lover's face deeper. Now, Mira finds herself moaning just as much as Zoey as she presses her tongue into all these new angles. Her hands reach for Zoey's rear, her tits, her throat, anything she can reach to keep those happy sounds going.
“Fuck me, baby.” Zoey whines impatiently and buries her face in Mira's comforter. The muffled effect encourages her to moan louder. “Please, fuck me!”
This is all a part of fucking you, Mira thinks to herself as she savours the treat between Zoey's legs. Mira wants Zoey as wet as possible, as desperate to be taken as she knows Zoey can be. She wants Zoey to be as needy as the time they reminisced about, so much so that Mira can sink a fist into her with little resistance. But, the issue of Mira's own patience eroding remains and worsens as Zoey rocks back onto her mouth, as if the two of them could be any closer. Zoey fucking her back like this makes Mira's mind spin; Zoey's submissive, demanding nature perfectly complements Mira's style of lovemaking.
Zoey shivers with excitement when Mira spits onto her entrance, a sign of her wishes about to be fulfilled. She's so extra polite now, overloading Mira's ears with “please”s and pet names. This time, Mira has the air to tell Zoey how good of a girl she's being and let her know, “I'll take care of you, Zoey.”
Faced with Zoey's pussy and pretty little asshole in front of her, Mira has some big decisions to make. Whether to keep using her mouth on Zoey, teaching her maknae a bit of delayed gratification, or to plunge her fingers inside of the ooey-gooey goodness that still dances on her tongue. Because Mira is such a smart young woman, she chooses the best of both worlds and lays her tongue on Zoey's asshole while she plunges her middle and ring fingers into Zoey's waiting, wet cunt. She makes sure to move slowly, giving Zoey a bit of time to get used to the digits inside of her.
Thank God Zoey has her face in the sheets. Otherwise, Rumi might have suspected the three of them were in danger with the way Zoey screams. Zoey makes a fist with her right hand and pounds it into the duvet below her, even kicks her feet a little, which makes Mira chuckle as she works Zoey without easing her into it - after all, Zoey seems to be more than ready. By the sound of it, Mira's assessment is correct, evident not just by Zoey's moans, but the gushing that bursts from between her legs, around Mira's fingers.
Mere moments pass before Zoey is muttering again. In this position, Zoey can try to reach behind her and play with herself, but Mira is quick to swat Zoey's hand away to rub her lover's clit with her thumb. Instead, Zoey bunches the duvet into her arms and hugs it tight while Mira plays with her.
“Fu-u-u-uck,” Zoey raises her head to drone. Mira can tell her eyelids are fluttering and her jaw is hanging open. She wonders if Zoey is drooling, too, especially when she grunts, “So good.”
As she pumps her fingers and flicks her tongue faster, Mira wonders how long Zoey will last. Clearly, she's very turned on, and only a couple of minutes of teasing turns her into goo. She wonders if Zoey would be patient enough to wait for Mira to get strapped up and try a different position than cowgirl, or if Zoey would have the strength to keep a vibrator against herself so Mira can stuff as much of her hand inside Zoey as possible.
“Oh, holy shit, I'm gonna come.”
Mira can't help but screw up her eyebrows and talk with her mouth full. “Already?”
“Uh-huh! Oh, Mira!”
That's what alerts Mira to Zoey's hands massaging her tits again, fingers pinching and twisting her nipples without regard to her piercings. Yeah, Zoey told Mira she was horny, but even for her, this is kind of surprising. The desperation looks so good on Zoey, though, and Mira's missed her way too much to put her own sadist impulses ahead of Zoey's needs.
So, she shifts gears and grins between Zoey's cheeks, telling her, “Come for me, Zoey.”
And Zoey is such a good girl that she tends to wait for permission from Mira before giving herself permission to let go. Mira treats her well for this, doubling up on whatever she's doing that Zoey likes. In this case, that's all of it - drilling her fingers into Zoey's pussy, dragging her tongue along her cute little butt, pressing onto her clit in purposeful strokes.
Funny enough, it's when Zoey stops shaking and her sounds culminate into silence that lets Mira know that her lover is about to break. That usually also means that Zoey is about to come like a freight train, hard and loud and fast, so Mira braces herself for a conclusion that is bound to make both of them sore tomorrow.
Zoey doesn't seem to remember that Mira's neck is already sore, because when she orgasms, she grips Mira by the hair again and summons all the strength of the demon hunter she is to bury Mira’s face as far into her as it will go. Mira steels her wrist against the force of Zoey throwing her hips backwards onto Mira's hand. All of the aches and pains can be completely forgiven purely because of the way Zoey screams Mira's name as the culmination of her arousal soaks her lover and the bed below them. Mira chases the high with Zoey and follows Zoey's melting form, eager to be with her as she rides out her orgasm.
Once Zoey is sated, she completely hits the deck, laying flat on her belly to recuperate from Mira's treatment. Mira rests her tense, pulsing muscles beside Zoey and stares up at the ceiling as she catches her breath. She can hear Zoey let out weak, little moans beside her, still reeling from her big finish.
Mira uses the tiny bit of oxygen that she's gained to ask, “Damn, Zoey. How pent up are you?”
Zoey turns her head to scoff, “I could ask you the same thing! I thought ass-eating was reserved for my birthday.”
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Mira realizes that she is in a stalemate. She shrugs. “I felt the need to pull out a couple of stops.”
“Mm… I forgot how spoiled I am with you two.” Zoey crawls onto Mira and presses their bare torsos together, sighing happily when she places her head on Mira's chest. “Plus, since Rumi wasn't being a sourpuss, she got it over with when she picked me up from the airport and fucked me in the car.”
“In my car, thank you.” Mira corrects Zoey sharply, but rubs her lover's back to soothe the teeny bit of venom in her words. “You know I'm not like this all the time, right? Jealous, I mean.”
Zoey runs her thumb along Mira's chin, presumably wiping her clean. “I know, I know. Probably because we live together. And, honestly, you're kind of clingy.”
“Yeah? Get out of my room, then.”
“No-o-o-o!”
Zoey burrows her face into Mira's shoulder as she protests, and Mira holds Zoey close to affirm that she really doesn't want the younger woman to go. Plants a few kisses on Zoey's scalp, to boot. Now that they're here, in comfortable silence besides the thundering of their heartbeats, Mira can immerse herself in the afterglow of making love to Zoey the way only she can. Mira watches Zoey doze off on her chest while insisting that she can go another round.
Not a bad idea, Mira thinks. Nothing wrong with a little early shuteye. They've both earned it, after all.
Mira and Zoey are attached at the hip when they emerge from the former's bedroom after their nap. They find Rumi sitting cross-legged on the living room rug, poised with her acoustic guitar and surrounded by loose sheets of paper. She has headphones on, which makes Zoey's cheeks bloom bright red in embarrassment.
Mira smoothly breaks the ice for all three of them by peeling Rumi's headphones away from her ears and hopping over the top of the couch, laying in repose behind her. “Feeling inspired, Rumi?”
Rumi's face quickly brightens as she looks back at her lovers. “Well, I have you guys to thank.”
“For what?” Zoey sits next to Rumi on the ground and idly plucks some of the guitar strings.
“Well.” Rumi pats Zoey's knee and looks over her shoulder at Mira's affectionate gaze as she vividly responds. “The sound of you guys talking persuaded me to give myself the orgasm I did not know I needed. After that, it was basically white noise. I took the best nap I have in weeks and woke up ready to write.”
Mira growls loudly in complaint, stressing to Rumi, “How many times do I have to tell you, Rumi? If you're horny, you break my door down.”
“Meh, I thought you two needed a little room to figure it out on your own.” Rumi shrugs with a sly smile. “Or, should I say, some time for Mira to get over herself.”
Zoey giggles and leans into Rumi's shoulder. “Trust me. She got over herself really quickly.”
Maybe it's because she's fucked it out of her system, but Mira is enthused by Rumi and Zoey poking fun at her hot-headed, horny tendencies. It makes her feel seen, the way she knows that Zoey sees through Mira's stiff and bitter act to easily get through to her. No one else can do it quite like Zoey, even when they're continents away.