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trash mod ([personal profile] trash_mod) wrote in [community profile] biotrash2014-03-19 04:11 pm


Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires

- bioshock trash crew proverb




Spoilery comments to this post will be deleted, and their authors vanished in the night to volunteer in our city's fine Protector Program.

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day!

Welcome to the Bioshock kink meme.

You can find a semi-frequently-updated list of prompts, with links and an indication of whether they've been filled, here at the index.

it is a kink meme. people anonymously (or not) request fic and pictures; other people anonymously (or not) write that fic and draw those pictures. everyone masturbates, peace is achieved.

there are two ways to take part!

1) start a new comment thread with a pairing/ship, and a kink. there's a kink masterlist here if you find yourself strapped for ideas.

2) swoop into an existing comment thread, and fill the person's request with art or writing. if someone's already filled the request, go for it anyway -- the more the merrier! if you need somewhere to upload/host images, try imgur.

there are some beautiful gems on the old kink memes. if you want an example of how this whole thing works, or you're digging for gold, look no further: on Livejournal, on Dreamwidth.


Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene speaking of lesbians

(Anonymous) 2014-04-05 03:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Diane wants to see all what the fuss is about Jasmine Jolene. Jolene shows her exactly what all the fuss is about.

basically ryan isn't the only one who can have an affair. bonus points if they like each other more/have more fun together than with ryan too.

Re: Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene speaking of lesbians

(Anonymous) 2014-04-05 06:44 pm (UTC)(link)
alright alright alright alright alright alright alright alright

Re: Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene speaking of lesbians

(Anonymous) 2014-04-05 08:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Hoooooly fuck I'd never even thought of this. I'm on it, give me several days and it's all yours.


(Anonymous) 2014-04-05 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)

thank you very much anon! take your time :) :)

"Jasmine Flowers", Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene

(Anonymous) 2014-05-21 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Late as usual, and OMG we have another fill! Lesbian party, anyone?


Friday night and he's working again. Again! At least, that's what he says he's doing, as if I actually believed it. He treats me like a green girl, but I know what he's up to. And it's not fair. Why would he get tired- of me? What did I ever do wrong? How is she better than I am? Well, I won't stand for it. I won't! I'll- I'll go and find her, and I'll make her see that what she's doing is wrong. It's home wrecking, that's what it is. And I'll pay her if she wants! Pay her to stay away. She only cares about the money, she's a- no, I won't say it. She can't make me. I'll go find her, and I'll be the better woman, and when I'm done explaining how things are...then she'll understand. She'll stay away from my man, and we'll be happy again. I just want to be happy. That's all.

Two bottles of overpriced beer later (bottles! Not glasses, like any civilised bar would have offered, and they laughed at her when she asked for a straw) and Diane replays her own words in the quiet confines of her mind. She nods in satisfaction when the memorised recording ends. The moral high ground is all hers, and she'll make a sensible, coherent case to this whor- this woman, this Jasmine Jolene. If she can find her. If she doesn't end up running away.

Diane hunkers further down in her seat, wishing she'd thought to bring a hat of some kind. She chose a booth in the corner, well away from the stage and the lights and the dancers, but the rowdy men are everywhere, and she's nowhere near as invisible as she'd like to be. If only she had something to hide under, so strangers would stop sliding into the booth next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and trying to grope her-

She squeezes her eyes shut. In hindsight, it might have been a better idea to track Miss Jolene down at a different time. In a different place. Not her workplace, specifically. But Diane gets like this when she has an idea fixed in her mind; Ryan's always telling her how stubborn she can be, how wilful, how downright silly. She never thinks about things when her temper's up. Just barges in with her feathers all ruffled, making things worse than they need to be. She wishes she was anywhere but here. Wishes she'd stayed home.

"Well hey there, princess," says a voice like warm honey, like the liquid cherry centres of her favourite chocolates. Diane's eyes open wide, and she instinctively cringes back in her seat. It doesn't help matters much. There's a lady lying on her table. A lady she never even heard approaching, who sprawls side-on with one long, slender heel folding her leg into an elegant triangle. And it's an awful lot of leg; Diane is much too well bred to cover her eyes, but she can't seem to tear them away either. She can see this woman's thigh. Is she- is she even wearing undergarments?

"My eyes are over here," says the woman, laughter in her voice.

"Sorry," Diane says instinctively, and then she meets the woman's eyes and changes her mind. "Oh my god, are you her? You are! You're Miss Jolene!" She makes sure to only look at the woman's face, though there's a lot else that she's clearly being invited to admire, and the thigh is only the start. How can she bear it? How can she stand to expose herself like this, for all these horrible men to look at?

It suddenly occurs to Diane that Andrew Ryan has, on many occasions, been one of those very men. She swallows and tries to forget it.

Jasmine Jolene stretches slowly, then leans back to rest her weight on her elbows. She keeps her leg arched; it's a rather lovely pose, (Diane tries not to think it, but she's hardly blind) and it must require a fairly impressive amount of strength to maintain.

"You're looking a little lost, if you don't mind my say so," Jasmine says. She's not laughing anymore, but her voice retains a teasing note. Nothing nasty, not at all; it's actually pleasant, in an odd way, and Diane tries very hard not to warm to her. "Not that we don't get our fair share of ladies in here. But you're the cutest thing I've seen in a long time, and it's such a shame for you to hide in the shadows like this. Don't be shy. Nobody else ever is."

Jasmine- Diane tries steadfastly to think of her as a formal Miss Jolene, but it just won't stick- rolls gracefully onto her stomach, rests her chin on her hands and waves her feet in the air above her back. She actually manages to make it look dainty, though the whole bar must be able to see up her skirt, and Diane is treated to a not unimpressive view of her chest. And it's a lovely chest; nice, soft-looking skin, under a flimsy silk bodice that only just covers the rest of her. She smells like flowers. Diane hasn't ever been much good with flowers, but she suddenly knows without a shred of doubt that this scent is Jasmine's namesake. And it's almost unbearably intoxicating.

"Like what you see?" Jasmine says playfully, and Diane tears her eyes away from the other woman's...chest area. She's mortified. Blushing bright red, no doubt, and all the cool composure she meant to project seems to have deserted her completely.

"I didn't mean to look," she says, her voice almost a whisper.

"Sure you did, princess," says Jasmine. Diane looks up from her lap to find the other woman smiling at her, like she couldn't be happier to smile at anyone else. "And you could look again if you wanted. I know if I had you in front of me like this, I wouldn't be able to help myself. And I know I wouldn't stop at looking, either..."

"Stop calling me that," Diane says, fixing her eyes to the wall above Jasmine's head.

"You don't feel like a princess today? Honey, say the word and I'll call you anything you like. I just want to make sure you're having a good time. I want to make you happy. So tell me, beautiful. What can I call you that'll get me a smile, huh?"

"Diane. Diane McClintock."

She hears a sharp intake of breath, and forces herself not to seek out Jasmine's face. She's not sure she wants to know what expression she'd find there.

"Oh honey," Jasmine says. Her voice is gentle now, but it lacks the bitter dislike Diane had convinced herself to expect. "I can't say I'm all that surprised; I've been waiting for you to come find me for a long while now. Just didn't think you'd do it here. Not a nice, well bred lady like you. I thought you'd be too good for the likes of this place."

Too good for the likes of me goes unsaid, but Diane would swear she can hear it anyway. And it's- it's wrong, it's so wrong, that she tears her gaze away from the wall and looks Jasmine square in the eyes to tell her. "That's not true. It's not. I'm just- I just wanted to-" tell you to stop ruining my life is the truth of the matter, or rather the truth she believed up until a few minutes ago. But Diane looks back on her words, all her practiced speeches and nurtured superiority, and discovers that they seem very hollow indeed. She's not better than this woman. She's not her victim, and not her enemy. She's just out of her depth, and Jasmine's is the only kind face she's seen all evening.

"I wanted to meet you," she says, and Jasmine gives her another smile. Less dazzling, this time. Sadder. She reaches over and strokes Diane's cheek with one long-nailed hand.

"That's so brave of you," she says sincerely. "I know I wouldn't have had the guts to find you, in your place. But here you are. And it's real nice to meet you; you seem like a really sweet girl. But I'm not sure what you had in mind once you'd met me."

Brave, she said, and Diane tries to match her expectations. "I was going to pay you," she says. It sounds so very sordid when she actually tells another person, but she can't stop now. "I brought money, and I was going to give you it so you'd- so you wouldn't-" she swallows, and suddenly the words begin to spill out, like a fountain overflowing. "Ryan never comes home these days, and when he does it's like he barely even sees me. He touches me and it's- it's mechanical, I feel like I'm some sort of doll to him. Like a thing instead of a person. I hate it. I got myself all worked up and ready to hate you too, only it won't stick. Now I just feel like a fool."

"We all get that way sometimes," Jasmine says calmly. "And funnily enough, it's usually over some man or other; makes you wonder how much of it we actually mean, and how much we just play act because that's what they want from us."

Jasmine reaches for Diane's abandoned beer bottle. There's still an inch or so of liquid left; she tosses her head back and downs the lot. Diane watches her throat bob, shifting awkwardly in her seat. She doesn't know where she should be looking. She doesn't know what the rules are here.
"You would not believe how much I hate that stuff," Jasmine tells her, placing the empty bottle on the booth cushion opposite Diane.

"Then why drink it?"

"If you can keep the beer at Eve's down, there's nothing you can't swallow. And suddenly the world's your oyster." She laughs at the look on Diane's face. "It's a joke, sweetie, you're supposed to laugh! Can't go far in this business without a sense of humour."

So Diane laughs. It's stilted, a little uncertain, but she does it anyway because it seems to make Jasmine happy. And it never once occurs to her that this is odd, this is not the way she'd planned for things to be between them; she feels very much like a thread, wound around Jasmine's little finger, pulling taut when she tugs. Liking her would be the easiest thing in the world. And Diane very much wants to.

"I guess I should go now," she says, and hopes it isn't too much of an obvious plea to be told otherwise. She doesn't belong here, with the flickering lights and haze of unfamiliar smalls; cheap liquor, cheap perfume, sweat. And through it all, the scent of jasmine flowers. She doesn't belong. But she could try to, if she were invited.

"Or you could stay," Jasmine says, as if mindreading comes to her naturally. Though she might be Spliced for it; Diane struggles to keep up with all the new Plasmids being released these days, and she thinks to herself that in Jasmine's line of work, a little mindreading might make all the difference. Still, it's nicer to believe she just understands, so that's what Diane does.

"I could," she agrees."I mean, we've only just met, and I hardly even know you. We could- we could-"

"Sure we could," Jasmine says, and her smile is as brilliant as the twinkling gemstones in her ears. "It's not fair, how Mister Ryan's been treating you, and I'm real sorry. I like you. I'd like to make it up to you. So how about, you and me," she reaches over to hook a finger in the collar of Diane's blouse, undoing the top button with an effortless movement, "Go find ourselves somewhere a little more private? Huh? Who says Ryan should have all the fun anyway?"

"Can we do that? I mean," and Diane feels heat rising in her cheeks. Not because of the suggestion, oddly enough; she's silly, not completely naive. She understands the nature of the transactions that occur in this place, and she understands that Jasmine is working right now. Maybe spending a little time with Diane is more pleasant for her than getting back up on the stage to be pawed at, but it's still business. Diane understands business. And Ryan's always telling her that nothing in life comes free.

She is ashamed to have to ask, though. Reducing the value of Jasmine's time to something like paper banknotes feels...wrong. "I'm sorry," Diane says. "I know you're working, but I don't know how much- I mean- Oh hell, I'm making such a mess of this." She fiddles with the clasp on her purse, where it sits in her lap. Thinks to herself, how funny this is. I came here to pay her so she'd stay out of my life. And now all I want is for her to come closer.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," Jasmine tells her gently. "It's not like I've got a handy price tag around my neck now, is it?" It's a horrifying idea as far as Diane's concerned, but Jasmine seems to find the thought hilarious. And she seems so at ease with the situation. Easy enough that Diane guiltily opens her purse and shows her.

"I was going to bribe you," she says in a humiliated stutter.

Jasmine just plucks a few notes out from the bundle and offers them to Diane. "That'll do nicely. Want to tuck them into my underwear?" And then, as Diane's eyes widen, "I'm teasing you, silly, you don't have to do that at all! Not if you don't want to."

Diane can't help but feel that Jasmine is rather enjoying the oddness of the situation. And when she thinks about it, she can see why. How...ridiculous the whole thing is. It's like something out of a play. A comedy. A farce. Cheated woman goes to find her man's favourite whore, armed with wads of cash in her neat little handbag, in the hopes that she can just buy her happiness back. She meets the woman...and changes her mind. There's a connection between them. It's not sympathy, or pity, or even shared jealousy. They seem to very genuinely like each other. And just like that, the man is forgotten.

Who says Ryan should have all the fun, anyway?

She takes Jasmine's hand and lets herself be led through a side door in the wall that cuts off the noise the moment it closes behind her. The sudden silence is a comfort; Diane squeezes Jasmine's hand in gratitude.

They stop in the doorway to a bedroom. Opulent, smothered in silk and velvet. Nicer than Diane's, even. She takes in the delicate screens and red curtains, the record player singing a soft love song in the corner. Ryan's been here, she knows with sudden certainty. And now I'm in his place. And she rather thinks it suits her better.

"Get yourself comfortable," Jasmine whispers in her ear. "I don't normally take clients this early in the evening, but you're something special, so I don't mind. Just let me square it with my manager, and then I'm all yours. Can I get you a drink? We can do so much better than that cheap beer. I won't have you thinking I'm a poor hostess."

She leans in to kiss Diane's cheek, and her scent lingers long after her lips are gone. It's everywhere in this room; not overpowering, but a ghost-like presence in the air that promises she'll be back soon. Diane sits on the bed and breathes. Left on her own, she finds she's no longer quite as sure of what she's doing. She hasn't ever- this isn't something she does. She's always been a good girl. Always obedient.

How silly she must look, almost sliding off the edge of the bed because she doesn't dare do anything else- when Jasmine told her to get comfortable.

Diane slips out of her shoes in defiance of the voice that tells her she shouldn't be here. She pushes herself back onto the mattress, affecting her best imitation of Jasmine's casual sprawl, and runs her hands over the bedspread.

"You like it?" Jasmine asks, and Diane sits up in time to receive the glass of wine she's brought with her. She sits at Diane's side and smiles at her.

"I do," Diane admits. "In fact, I think I might be a little jealous."

"Don't be. You don't want to be paying the same price I do for all this luxury. It's just not worth it."

"Jasmine Flowers" 2/2, Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene

(Anonymous) 2014-05-21 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"I do though. Pay the price." Diane is speaking before she can stop herself. She doesn't know where the words come from. Does know that this is not something she ought to be confessing; not something she could say to anyone but the woman sipping wine on the bed next to her. "Maybe it's not quite the same, but what I have... Well, I'm sure you've heard Ryan's speeches. Nothing comes free. Not even happiness."

And it's true, Diane realises. She is truly, bitterly unhappy with her life. Oh, she wraps it in ribbon, douses it in jewels and buries it deep, but the truth will out. She hasn't been happy in a long time. She looks around her, at the faux fur rugs and red velvet, and thinks that this is the oddest place to come to such an epiphany.

Jasmine tugs the wine glass from her unresisting fingers. Numb with shock, Diane doesn't turn until the other woman moves her, captures her chin in one hand and tilts her head so they can talk eye to eye.

"So serious," she says teasingly. "I like your smiles much more. Won't you smile for me again, Diane? You'd make me so happy if you did."

She punctuates her final sentence with a kiss; the barest brush of her mouth on Diane's. Lingers long after she's let go, in the taste of wine on Diane's lips. Jasmine flowers in the air.

"Too fast?" Jasmine asks, and Diane manages a smile. Just for her.

"No," she says. "Not at all. You could even do it again, if you wanted."

She doesn't really know what she's doing, but Jasmine has seemingly endless reserves of patience for this silly woman hopelessly out of her depth. Such patience-

she touches Diane's neck for what seems like hours, after finding that kissing it just so makes the breath shudder from Diane's body. Cups her breasts, rubs a thumb over her nipples. Then a tongue, and Diane closes her eyes reflexively. She doesn't feel shy, she finds, which is surprising. This is a stranger on the bed with her; a stranger who tugs at her skirt and undergarments, who strips her bare and looks into her eyes and tells her that she is beautiful.

"Look who's talking," Diane whispers back, and feels the huff of Jasmine's laughter on her left breast.
"You're so sweet," she replies. Her hair is an unruly mass, freed of its pins and tickling Diane's stomach where it falls loose. "I wish I'd known. All that time we wasted."

"We could have," Diane begins to agree, and cuts herself off with a gasp. Jasmine kisses her hipbone and smiles in her knowing way.

"Shh," she says. It's all she says before she pushes Diane's thighs apart with gentle hands. Dips her head and flicks her tongue with a skill that reduces Diane to pleas and breathy incoherencies. Until the only words on her lips are Jasmine, oh, please, Jasmine.

It's over too soon. Dazed and blissful, Diane finds herself nudged into lying back on the satin pillows, accepting another glass of wine and giggling when Jasmine dips her fingers into it and drizzles the drops over Diane's lips.

It seems like something out of a dream. She tingles in all the right places, and Jasmine is smiling at her. It seems like something from a fantasy. Real life is never so kind to her.

"Do I have to leave soon?" Diane asks eventually. She doesn't want to. She wants to kiss Jasmine's collarbones, mess up her hair and make her whimper the way she did to Diane herself. She doesn't even know if she's allowed to touch the other woman now. If that might be presumptuous.

"You've got me for the whole night," Jasmine hesitates, looking for a sobriquet to suit the mood.

"You could call me 'princess', if you wanted," Diane says. She doesn't know why the request should make her blush, after everything else, but it does. "I'd like that." It feels like the most natural thing in the world to settle back against the cushions and reach for a loose strand of Jasmine's hair. Curl it between her fingers with something approaching wonder.

"It suits you," Jasmine tells her. "A girl like you deserves silk sheets and chocolates, and someone to spoil her rotten. Will you let me do that for you? They say I give the best massage in all of Fort Frolic."

"If you'll show me how, I could do the same for you." Diane hesitates, but by now there's no point to shyness between them. "There are a couple of things I'd like to do for you. If you don't mind. I'll be terrible at first, but I promise I'll get better."

Her audacity earns her a brilliant flash of surprised approval. "Miss McClintock, it would be an honour to corrupt you so completely. And it's not hard to learn, if you want to. Promise I'll let you take it real slow. Oh, you know what, let me show you how it's done again. I've always found that's the best way of teaching." Jasmine winks at her. "And you're so cute when you're happy."

Diane's stomach dissolves into butterflies without warning, and for a moment it's all she can do to keep breathing. She hasn't had butterflies for someone in such a long time.

"Let's go out tomorrow night," she says abruptly. "You and me. We'll make a...a date of it, with the cinema, or that new play Mister Cohen has out." An idea strikes her, and suddenly she wants nothing more. "We could go dancing. Proper dancing, without photographers and reporters watching our every move. And I'll take you out to dinner. How about that?"

Jasmine shakes her head slowly. Reluctantly. Her eyes are suddenly the saddest thing Diane's ever seen, and she wishes she knew a way to fix that. Anything. "Oh, Diane, that's so sweet of you. And I'd love to, believe me- I haven't been to the cinema in so long. But I can't afford a night off. I'm really sorry." She sounds it too, but Diane gives a startled laugh.

"That's not a problem at all!" She thinks with vindictive pleasure of the sizeable allowance Ryan gives her so she can keep looking her usual lovely self while hanging off his arm at parties. Money for dresses and jewellery and shoes and bags. He doesn't notice what she wears these days. She could show up in the same outfit every day for a week and he still wouldn't notice. About time she put that allowance to better use. "I'll pay for that, and I'll use Ryan's money to do it. You can have a holiday, and we can have ourselves a good time like we both deserve. Won't you come with me? Please say you will. I haven't been on a real date in forever."

"Well, if it's all at Andrew Ryan's expense, I wouldn't dare refuse," Jasmine says. Her eyes are back to being bright with amusement; she trails her fingers down Diane's ribcage to make her giggle. "Miss McClintock, I'm surprised at you. Here I thought you were some kind of innocent angel, but you're just as much of a devilish little sinner as I am!" She presses a kiss to Diane's navel. "And I'd be honoured to go dancing with you."


Well, would you look at the time! And would you look at me! Diane McClintock, sneaking home with her hair all a mess, and her clothes smelling like another lady's perfume. I don't want to wash it out but I guess it doesn't matter, if I'm seeing her again this evening. And I am, I really am! I don't care if Ryan wants to know where I'm going; I can make something up, and he never needs to find out where I really am. Or who I'm with. I guess it's not such a terrible thing, if he did it first. And I can't- I can't seem to stop thinking about her, and I only saw her an hour ago. It's strange. I was so ready to hate her. And now I think I'd do anything, anything at all, just to have her smile at me again. I've never met anyone like her. I can hardly believe she's real. Well, all I can say is, bring on the evening!

Re: "Jasmine Flowers" 2/2, Diane McClintlock/Jasmine Jolene

(Anonymous) 2014-05-22 03:55 am (UTC)(link)
this is so good! I love how cute this is and how well they click. I was half expecting it to end sadly but I'm glad it didn't!

I didn't edit this at all lol sorry in advance (different anon from the other one)

(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 06:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Diane McClintock sulked in the corner with her empty martini, watching The Great Andrew Ryan and his latest whore. She let someone light her cigarette, ignoring every word out of their mouth. Of course she could be with anyone in this room except the one man she actually wanted. Of course.

She rolled her eyes, taking a drag on her cigarette and letting a scowl set into her brow. Steinman had warned her about frowning too much but if Andrew Ryan didn’t want her, she didn’t really care anymore. She tore her eyes away from the couple to motion towards the bartender, indicating that she needed another drink. To be honest, she needed several other drinks. She turned back, watching the stripper whore lay a hand on Ryan’s arm, the intimacy of the gesture lost on most people, but not her. Tears threatened to prick her eyes and she turned away again to receive the new drink, wondering why she tortured herself this way every night. Wondering what Ryan would think if he knew she was working with Atlas’ rebellion these days.

When she looked back, the couple was gone, presumably to fuck. Picturing it made Diane sick. She clung to the bar, sucking in cool air as everything heated up around her ears. A bare hand brushed against her shoulder and she looked up into the face of the slut who was mouthing the words “are you alright?” Or was she speaking them? Everything was spinning but Diane shook the girl off and made her way towards the pinprick of light that she supposed was the door, sinking to the floor more with every step.


When she came to, she was lying in a bed, but it was not hers. She sat up, cold and sweaty, and was suddenly hit in the face with the full force of her hangover. Looking around, she saw a woman’s figure entering the room, silhouetted by the bright lights of the kitchen.

“How are you feeling?” came the voice, and Diane’s heart sank as she saw that the woman in question was Jasmine Jolene. Grudgingly, she took the glass of water from her.

“Terrible,” she admitted. as the woman clambered up onto the bed next to her. She was wearing sheer night things, and Diane wondered if they had slept in the same bed. “What time is it?”

“About three in the morning. I was just about to head to bed,” she motioned toward the doorway. Diane supposed she was sleeping in the next room. She sipped the water, trying not to gulp it, no matter how parched she was. She was no stranger to hangovers, she knew she needed to tread lightly. Jasmine had a wet rag in her hand and was applying it to her forehead. Diane wanted to protest, she was supposed to hate this woman, but the cool wetness felt so good that she soon abandoned any dislike for her. She certainly seemed kind.

Brushing her damp hair out of her eyes, Jasmine murmured, “Is that better?” and Diane nodded mutely, transfixed by the woman’s beauty. Without her makeup, Diane could see what Ryan liked about the young woman. She had wide, innocent features, lightly spotted with freckles, and a kind, pink mouth. She blushed, suddenly aware that she had been staring. “You’re very beautiful,” she said. “I can see why he likes you,” she did not say.

Jasmine took the older woman’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re very beautiful,” she said softly, cradling Diane in a hug as the inevitable tears began to drip from her eyes. The showgirl held Diane tightly as she shook with quiet sobs, brushing her hair and rocking her back and forth on the bed in silent acceptance. When the sobs slowed, turning to little gasps, Jasmine held Diane’s face between her hands and pressed her small pink lips against her forehead.

Diane let out one last choking sob as the girl let go of her and finally returned the embrace, grasping her hands and pulling toward her until they were resting a breath away, with their foreheads brushing against one another. Hesitant, almost blindly, Diane’s lips staggered forward, meeting Jasmine’s in a soft kiss, sweet and innocent and tender.

Jasmine looked surprised, but she didn’t pull back for more than a second. Instead, she leaned forward and returned the kiss, silky lips pressing petal soft against Diane’s, making her head spin all over again. A small tongue poked through their delicate motions and Jasmine found her way inside of Diane, exploring and tasting Ryan’s previous favourite. Diane almost shuddered with the thrill, but it was too beautiful for that kind of of base response. Ryan never kissed her like this. He was all hardness and business, selfish in bed and out. Here, there was no hurry, nothing was forced. This was the most natural thing in the world.

They twined together down onto the bed, Jasmine’s light body hovering over Diane’s in the quiet rustle of clean sheets. Their kisses grew more urgent, but nothing hurt, a novelty that thrilled Diane somewhere between her legs, making her open her eyes in surprise. She saw only the flutter of feather soft eyelashes above her as one of Jasmine’s hands crept along her body, finding one of her hands and bringing it to a breast, pressing into her fingers to show her what to do.

It felt odd to Diane to touch another woman’s body without agenda or comparison, with no ill will or selfish need. She teased the soft breast away from Jasmine’s silky nightgown, brushing her slender fingers against a nipple as it hardened beneath her. Jasmine started to kiss down Diane’s neck and she pulled on the nightgown, easily lifting it over the other woman’s head as she made her way down to Diane’s breast, returning the gentle touches with that small mouth. Diane moaned softly as the woman’s tongue worked around her nipple, planting sweet kisses as she moved between them, massaging with her hands as Diane lay back against the pillows, savoring each thrill the buzzed through her at the other woman’s touch.

Rolling them over so that the older was on top, Jasmine tugged at Diane’s dress, pulling it off easily as they returned their red mouths to one another’s, Diane’s hands exploring Jasmine’s naked body as they sighed together in the sheets. Diane was still wearing her underwear and Jasmine took advantage of this position to fully remove her bra, which had been pushed eagerly out of the way in order to allow access to the woman’s blushing breast. Now Jasmine pushed Diane back into the sheets, unhooking her stockings and dragging them down her legs, following the wrinkles with tender kisses and working her way back up until there was nothing between them but the woman’s panties.

Crawling up to kiss her again, Jasmine let a hand rest between Diane’s legs, feeling the wetness there through her underwear and murmuring in anticipation. She kissed back down the pale figure, deftly tugging the panties off and running a finger around Diane’s opening, not quite touching her, but oh, if she stopped, Diane would die. A strange ache began deep within her, a sense of eagerness that she’d never had a chance to feel with Ryan. The finger grazed something near her entrance and Diane felt a shock go running through her veins. Jasmine smiled at her, she looked just as excited as Diane felt, and dragged her finger across that same spot again, watching as the older woman’s back arched and she let out something that could almost be called a moan.

A finger dipped into her and Diane’s breath caught in her throat as the other woman pressed it all the way in, crooking it and exploring the warm space. Diane had not realised how wet she was until she felt how easily the finger slipped inside, and then another, as Jasmine pressed and played with her sex as Diane let her sighs fully turn to moans. She let her eyes close as her head fell back against the pillow, enjoying the small strokes and gentle massage of Jasmine’s fingers inside of her.

And then, suddenly, there was a great heat at her very root and Diane felt whatever was twisting inside of her tighten even further. She looked down to see that Jasmine was using her mouth, placing hot wet kisses around her fingers, still working the other woman like a lockpick. Her small tongue found its way to that certain spot and Diane was forced against the pillows again in ecstasy, no longer able to control the noises she was making or the rolling of her eyes. As the other woman pressed into her repeatedly with those fingers, she placed some pressure on Diane’s flat stomach, kissing her cunt until it was crimson.

Diane was panting and sweating, the warmth and the pressure combining in a way that made her want to scream for release, for some last step on this staircase, for completion. A few twists and thrusts of Jasmine’s fingers and Diane’s hips rose into the air, bucking uncontrollably as she gained that release, squeezing the other woman carelessly and gasping for breath. When she was finally done, she lay, twitching with Jasmine’s every gentle touch against her swollen parts, gasping in further ecstasy. The other woman came up to meet her, wiping her mouth and smiling. Diane gaped at her.
“That was… how did you…?”
The other woman smiled at her wickedly. “Why don’t we take a break and then we’ll go again?”
Diane snuggled happily up against the younger woman. Maybe this time, she’d teach her how to return the favor.

Re: I didn't edit this at all lol sorry in advance (anon who wrote this)

(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 06:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[instantly notices 100 mistakes I made]


(Anonymous) 2014-04-21 07:07 pm (UTC)(link)
*__* That's okay I think it's great! Thank you! ;u;