Chapter Text
“It didn't feel like friends on the kitchen floor “
Melissa has taken to having the Abbott gang over twice a month for a “proper Italian dinner” aka, when she has too many leftovers to eat from Sundays with the family and needs help getting rid of all of them.
Which means you have taken to finding yourself spread eagle on Melissa's kitchen floor twice a month having your soul eaten from the inside out.
This particular evening, you'd been taken on the counter, the table and found yourself back on the floor for orgasm number three.
“Oh fuck -Melissa-”
You can feel the redhead smirk into your pussy as she starts to suck your clit in the way she knows makes you crazy.
“Mel- please”
“I'm gonna-”
“Cum for me angel. Let me hear all those pretty moans you make just for me” Melissa groans out, not wanting to stop her steady rhythm on your center.
Before long you’re arching and moaning her name as your body lights on fire for the older woman.
She crawls back up to your face and kisses you deeply. You love tasting yourself combined with the Italians hot mouth. You return the embrace eagerly, hungry as your tongue swirls with hers.
“Not get enough there, doll?” She smirks at you pulling away. “Good thing because I'm not nearly finished. Maybe I'll even let you stay over tonight” she says with a wink, helping you off the floor and leading you to her bedroom. You know she won’t, but the sentiment is nice.
Your sessions rarely make it to the bedroom, but Melissa was feeling particularly pent up, and counting on you as her stress relief.
The redhead guides you to the bed, kisses you roughly and disappears for a minute.
When she emerges, she’s naked except for the black silicone strap-on protruding from her center.
“Turn over.” She barks. It isn't a suggestion and you know better than to disobey, quickly flipping over to stick your ass up in the air for her.
Melissa wastes no time in coming up behind you and swiftly pushing the dildo inside you with a satisfied groan. “You like that princess? Don't answer, I know you do. Or you wouldn't keep pretending to stay late to help with the dishes, would you?” She tsks at you as she continues to pound into you. “No, you wouldn't. You do it because you want me to take you like the little whore you are”.
“Fuck, I love it” you manage to groan out in between breaths as you take everything Melissa has to give you.
When you cum, she helps you ride it out as she whispers the filthiest things you’ve ever heard into your ear in a low husk. Melissa pulls herself off of you, discards the strap and wordlessly hands you the vibrator from her nightstand.
You don’t need any direction, now that you’ve done this a few times. You hold the vibrator to her clit, playing with the speeds until she looks down at you with a look that sends a shiver up your spine and you focus your attention on giving her her release.
God, she's glorious like this. Melissa shakes as she groans out her orgasm, her chest heaving in post coital bliss. After a few minutes, she gets up again and heads to the bathroom. You know your place.
You pull on your clothes and are ready to leave before she even returns. Melissa doesn’t do personal. And she certainly doesn’t do sleepovers with coworkers who she may or may not be fucking.
Nonetheless, she still walks you to the front door, gives you a container with the remaining leftovers and smacks your ass playfully before saying,
“You know I think next time I might need you to come over early to help set up” with a confident smirk.
You confirm that you’re available, and you don’t stop smiling the whole drive back to your apartment.