“Hey everyone! BooBuster is telling me dinner’s waiting on me so I’m gonna stop the stream here! Thanks so much for hanging out with me today! We’ll do another one again soon!”
The chat flared to life, they wanted BooBuster on cam, they wanted her to wave, they wanted to know what was for dinner. Hazel—TwitchWitch to her fans—laughed, waved and shut down the streaming program.
“I didn’t even choose that name!” Lena said, drily, from the doorway to the little room they’d set aside for video editing and Hazel’s recent streaming kick.
“You love it,” Hazel brushed past Lena on her way to their modest dining room, going up on her tiptoes to kiss Lena’s lips at the same time.
“You love it,” she countered, but she was laughing softly now, “because it lets you say ‘boob’ on every video without getting demonetised.”
“Shush! What’d you make me?”
“Oh my GOD, babe! What’s in this?” Hazel scooped another forkful of risotto primavera into her mouth, making sounds of absolute joy.
Lena beamed. She adored Hazel’s praise, it gave her a little flutter in her belly every time; maybe a little more than a little flutter. “Same old recipe, Haze,” she replied, though she immediately knew that wasn’t quite true. “No, actually, I added a bit of that weird spice you left on the counter. It wasn’t labelled but I took a little taste and it’s pretty good. Maybe that’s it?”
Hazel looked simultaneously uncomfortable and confused. She was feeling good. Really good. Like, not-eating-dinner-with-your-girlfriend-on-Valentine’s-Day good, more like after-dinner-with-your-girlfriend-on-Valentine’s-Day good. She tried to tamp down those … feelings for the moment. “What’re you talking about? I didn’t buy any spice.”
Lena paused, her mouth full of the creamy pasta and perfectly steamed veggies. She thought, chewed more, then swallowed. “Yeah, y’did. At the farmers’ market last weekend.” The look on Hazel’s face was unreadable now, so she went on, getting herself another forkful of the risotto at the same time—to hell with being polite, this really was the best risotto she’d ever made, “In that weird, eggplant-shaped bottle? Or mushroom? Whatever it is, the weird one.”
Hazel’s eyes went wide. “Babe,” she said softly, then swallowed and broke into wild laughter.
“What?” Lena couldn’t decide if she was relieved or annoyed by Hazel’s reaction. But she also couldn’t understand why she was getting another forkful of risotto.
“That’s not spice! Oh shit! You put magical aphrodisiac in our food!” Hazel’s giggles left her nearly breathless.
Lena squirmed awkwardly in her seat, she caught herself stroking her crotch through her jeans and glared down at her risotto. “Haze, did you buy ground mealworm from a spinster because she told you it was magic?” She tried to sound like she was scolding Hazel, but the growing need between her legs was betraying her.
“Dunno,” Hazel replied as she stood up from the table. “But I’m hornier than I’ve ever been. You?” She giggled again, but this time it was something…more sultry.
“I’m always horny for you,” Lena murmured, feeling her face grow hot. She was already unbuttoning her jeans under the table.
Hazel made a ‘mmm’ sound in agreement as she walked around the table. She was taking her time, doing that sexy-walk that always made Lena want to grab her hips and squeeze. When she finally reached Lena’s side of the table Hazel ran two fingertips over Lena’s lips. “Mmm, look at you…” she purred, looking down at Lena’s thin silk blouse. Lena couldn’t take her eyes off Hazel, off Hazel’s hips, specifically. The blouse—Lena’s favourite because it was Hazel’s favourite on her—wasn’t tight exactly but it was tight enough that Lena’s nipples, stiff little peaks, were standing out proudly beneath it. Lena rarely wore a bra and just now she was very glad of it.
Hazel took Lena’s hands in hers, gave them a gentle squeeze then tugged her out of the chair. They crashed into each other, Lena’s lithe, runner’s body colliding wonderfully with Hazel’s soft, beautiful curves. Their lips parted before their mouths met, tongues thrusting deep, exploring with desperate hunger. When Hazel broke the kiss to gasp for air, Lena lightly bit her lip, then laughed at Hazel’s expression.
“Getting rid of these.” Hazel’s voice was thick with lust as she carefully removed Lena’s glasses and set them on the table. “I won’t need ’em where I’m going.” Lena struggled frantically to get her jeans off. Hazel came to her rescue, steadying her until they were cast off. A second later, her panties followed while Hazel unbuttoned Lena’s shirt. She threw it back over Lena’s shoulders then descended on Lena’s nipple, sucking the achingly erect tip deep into her mouth, petting it with her tongue.
“Fuuuuuck, Haze,” Lena groaned. Her hands had first moved to her crotch, desperate for release, but she quickly changed her mind and instead took the opportunity to yank Hazel’s yoga pants and cotton panties down, exposing her ass to the cool apartment air. Hazel moaned her approval as she continued suckling and grabbed both of Lena’s ass-cheeks with her hands. “Stop, stop-stop-stop!” she hissed suddenly and Hazel released Lena’s tit with an audible pop, a thin trail of drool connecting her lower lip to Lena’s bud.
“Here,” Lena followed up instantly, and gently pushed Hazel to the table. The table creaked beneath her weight as Lena half-guided, half-lifted her onto the surface. “There, perfect.” Lena knelt, opened Hazel’s legs wide, and buried her face in Hazel’s fat, glistening pussy. She lapped all around Hazel’s entrance, drinking down the creamy arousal and moaning far louder than she intended. Satisfied, she pushed her tongue deep inside, wiggling against Hazel’s walls as she sucked. Hazel began rocking her hips and Lena moaned again at the pure joy of having Hazel’s mons squishing against her nose.
For her part, Hazel tried to move the dishes, glasses, and cutlery aside, but when Lena started eating her out, she was lost. “Baaaaabe,” she called out, trying and failing to get a grip on Lena’s short hair. “God-FUCK, that feels good!” Hazel’s voice was high, trembly and loud. She wasn’t normally loud but her senses had been turned up to eleven. She tore off her sweatshirt and hurled it toward the bedroom, causing the table to shake and groan again. “Fuck, babe, fuck meeeee! I’m gonna–suck my clit! Please! Fucking, please!”
Lena was more than happy to oblige. She pulled back, trailing saliva and pussy-juice in long ropes from her chin. “I gotcha, Haze.” And then her mouth was on Hazel again. She wrapped her lips firmly around Hazel’s pearl, then gently pinched it with her teeth and flicked her tongue over the tip, drawing exactly the sort of whimpering sobbing shudder from her girlfriend she’d been expecting. Hazel wasn’t using words now, just cries and gasps and grunts as she barrelled toward her climax. Before she reached it, Lena slipped two fingers back into Hazel’s dripping hole and began pumping. She knew exactly where to find Hazel’s g-spot and she petted it relentlessly.
Hazel screamed and locked her ankles behind Lena’s back as she started cumming. Her head swam and she rocked ever harder against Lena’s fingers pounding into her while Lena’s tongue and teeth did their magic on her little pearl. She made a sound that was a thready ululation as she heard utensils clatter to the floor, then the bread basket. Lena finally offered some mercy, no longer thrusting, just staying there with her fingertip pressed against Hazel’s most sensitive spot. Her thighs twitched, her pussy throbbed around Lena’s fingers, and she sighed deeply.
Hazel’s vision blurred—and then the third finger entered her. Lena was picking up the pace again; growling, the sound vibrating through Hazel’s crotch in a way that she’d never felt before. “Oh, fuck, yeah, do it, just like that! Keep—”
She didn’t get to finish her thought, there was a voice in the hall, just outside their door. “Hey, keep it down in there!” Both women stopped for a beat, then Lena began thrusting even harder, faster, the wet sounds of their sex getting ever louder while the table wobbled. Something small and metallic bounced across the floor.
Lena finally released Hazel’s clit with a soft pffah and pulled all three fingers from Hazel’s slit. Hazel squirmed in protest, trying to wiggle across the table to chase Lena’s fingers—and then the table went. Food, glasses and plates crashed across the floor.
“Holy shit, Haze, are you okay?” Lena stood over her, her fingers, mouth, cheeks and chin covered in Hazel’s sex juices, her thighs glistening with her own slick, and she had such a look of concern on her face that Hazel burst out in a fit of giggles.
“Get down here and sit on my face!” she ordered, desperate to drink Lena’s nectar.
“I’m gonna call the Super!” another voice shouted from the hallway.
Lena grinned, stood over Hazel’s head, then lowered herself down. Her pussy was just below Hazel’s chin and her face hovered over Hazel’s well-used cunt. She began licking Hazel clean, from clit to ass-cheeks, making loud, animal sounds of pleasure.
Hazel gripped Lena’s perfectly toned ass cheeks again and pulled them apart, exposing her delicate little rosebud. She felt Lena shiver with anticipation. Hazel lifted her head and placed a wet, lingering kiss there, then moved her right hand. Two fingers slid easily between Lena’s sloppy folds. Hazel’s thumb began circling Lena’s clit. “Y’ready?” Hazel asked, her voice gravelly. Lena simply licked harder, and further down. “Good.”
Hazel began licking a circle around Lena’s asshole, gently nudging and probing at the beautifully puckered ring. She didn’t know how long she carried on like that, but before long she was also finger-fucking Lena’s pussy, stroking her clit with increasingly wet and firm thrusts, and when she heard Lena’s plaintive call for release, Hazel relented. Her tongue bore down on Lena’s sphincter, wiggling and worming and pushing harder and harder until she was finally inside. She curled the tip and pulled back out, then worked her way back in again as Lena’s first cataclysmic orgasm arrived.
Orgasms chained—Lena convulsing, squirting over Hazel’s breasts; Hazel shuddering, her juices trailing down her legs, it became a blur of lust and bliss and connection. Their cat, Egon, emerged once, only to flee when Lena kicked over a chair in the throes of ecstasy. Voices continued—occasionally—to threaten calls to the landlord, to bylaw enforcement, to the police, but no knock at the door interrupted them.
They lay entwined amid the ruin, bodies sticky and sated, the whole apartment reeking of sex and spices. Egon had finally emerged from safety and sniffed the air warily.
“That was apocalyptic,” Lena murmured, nuzzling Hazel’s neck.
“You were outta control,” Hazel whispered back. “I kinda liked it. I’m telling that nice old lady at the market she really knows her stuff.”
