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Avidity

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a·vid·i·ty

 (ə-vĭd′ĭ-tē)

  1. pl.  a·vid·i·ties
  2. Keen interest or enthusiasm
  3. Strong desire or craving



Vera fell back against the mattress, breathless, damp skin glowing, and feeling delightfully boneless thanks to the spectacular orgasm that had just rippled through her. Between her legs she felt Joan’s lips fall away from her sex to connect with the dewy skin of her inner thighs. She felt Joan’s sharp teeth worry the skin at the junction of her hip and thigh and she let out a responding groan. A dulled wave of arousal swept through her, leaving goosebumps in its wake to break out across her sated flesh.

 

All around them was the heavy, damp smell of their combined sex and sweat; sweetened musk, which was the result of the faint traces of their respective perfumes and the much bolder scent of their respective sexes. Vera smiled to herself, knowing that their combined scents would linger on their bedsheets and skin until morning, when she would wake with her nose pressed up against luxuriously soft cotton and even more decadently soft skin, all still perfumed by their activities this evening.   

 

“Joan, come here,” she beckoned her lover. Tingling hands reached out to squeeze the broad shoulder of the woman between her legs. Her action was met with a smug grin, one that was more that well-earned.

 

Joan approached making love like she did everything else in her life, with a laser-focused attention to detail and an obsessive need for control. Everything that took place between their naked flesh was pre-planned and had a distinct beginning, middle, and glorious ending. The few times that Vera had attempted to introduce some semblance of spontaneity into their sex life, Joan had merely met her halfway with a knowing grin that told Vera that she had anticipated and planned for this too.

 

It was maddening, and yet, Vera secretly loved it.  

 

Joan’s mouth took its time ascending Vera’s spent limbs, pausing to re-commit to memory every inch of Vera’s golden skin, every perfect birthmark that adorned the firm flesh, and every faint scar that only seemed to add to Vera’s beauty. When she was level with Vera’s breasts, she paused for several long minutes to swallow up each perfectly firm peak, loving how Vera squirmed against her despite her recent climax.

 

“Joan!” Vera squealed and tugged at the thick hair of her lover. Not that she wasn’t loving Joan’s actions, but her breasts were still slightly sore and sensitive thanks to Joan’s earlier attentions; and anyway, right now what she craved was Joan’s mouth against her own.

 

“Yes Vera,” Joan said, her husky voice wrapped around Vera’s nipple and caused the younger woman to shiver.

 

“Come here, ” she demanded, her giggles broke through her words like sunshine permeating through rain clouds. She released Joan’s hair to tug at Joan’s shoulders, using her impressive upper body strength to drag the larger woman upwards so that they were face to face. “Mmm, better,” she sighed as she tipped her face upwards to kiss Joan’s smirking lips.

 

“I was occupied,” Joan said pointedly against Vera’s sweet mouth. She was only mildly annoyed really. Vera’s lips against hers were heavenly and she was only too happy to oblige her lover’s needs.

 

Vera wrapped her arms and legs around Joan and nuzzled the skin of her neck. Joan felt Vera’s lips curl into a wide grin against her skin and let out a content sigh. Joan’s heart expanded at the aching sweetness of Vera’s embrace; after all these months together, she was still often taken aback by the benevolence of Vera’s love for her. After Jianna died, she had never dared to hope that she might one day be wrapped up in the loving embrace of a woman who adored her for all her flaws and faults, who showed her nothing but patient love and acceptance. She’d never dared to hope that she might actually find both pleasure and comfort in the touch of another person. She never dared to hope that instead of shying away from physical contact with them, Joan would crave it with a fierceness that shattered her enviable self-control.

 

Her lover’s voice broke through Joan’s musings.

 

“You know, tomorrow is the first day we both have off together in nearly a month!” Vera expressed. Her hands excitedly mapped out Joan’s broad back and she angled her head to nudge her nose against Joan’s cheek.

 

Joan chuckled silently. She rolled them both onto their sides and rested one hand at Vera’s lower back. The other propped her head up and she looked down at her lover.

 

“Think about it Joan, we’ll have a whole day together. No interruptions.” Vera’s whole body practically reverberated with unrestrained joy.

 

Immediately after Vera experienced an orgasm, she was hopelessly chatty and excitable, and would insist that Joan remain awake with her to engage in conversations ranging from the mundane to the deeply personal. Joan had learned, early on in their romance, that sex was to commence as early as possible in the evening if she ever hoped to get to bed at a decent hour. There was something about how Vera’s eyes lit up when the post-orgasmic euphoria rushed through her that was both as irresistible and delicious as the taste of Vera’s essence on her tongue. Even their first night together, when she had rolled off of Vera in anticipation of falling into a pleasantly sated slumber, she had found it impossible to resist Vera’s sweetly demanding affection and restless chatter.

 

“We could go for a walk!” Vera suggested. Her hand rested overtop Joan’s breastbone and she felt Joan’s steady heartbeat tickle the tips of her fingers. “Maybe even spend some time at the beach?”

 

“If that would make you happy,” Joan conceded. She couldn’t recall the last time that she’d gone to the beach, she’d never been very fond of that particular public space, but if that is where her darling Vera wanted to spend their day then she would happily bring them there.

 

“What would make you happy? What do you want to do?” Vera asked. She lifted her head to kiss Joan’s lips repeatedly, until Joan was smiling against her, before settling back against the pillow with a dreamy expression.

 

Joan shrugged and continued to smile down at Vera. Truthfully, she wanted to spend a good majority of their day tomorrow doing exactly what they’d spent the last hour doing, passionately and blissfully making love. In fact, she had planned to wake Vera tomorrow with soft kisses against her flat stomach and narrow hips, descending further and not stopping until Vera’s cries filled their bedroom once again. She had no need for anything beyond what existed between them. She craved no other form of satisfaction or interaction. She had no desire to waste her time socializing with others when she could be wrapped up in the bronzed, muscular limbs and soft skin of her deputy. She had been a solitary creature from when she was a child, and the older she grew, the less patience she had for the world outside of the sanctuary of her home. Vera’s integration into that sanctuary in recent months made her want to leave it even less.

 

Joan sighed. Vera was still eyeing her expectantly for a response. She rubbed her lips together and frowned; articulating these sorts of things were still exceedingly difficult for her.  

 

“Would you prefer that we stay in tomorrow?” Vera asked. Her hand came up to cup Joan’s face and her thumb traced the line of her lower lip. “Because we can do that too. We can prepare our meals for the week!” she said brightly.

 

Until recently, Joan had always insisted on doing the cooking alone, not because she had felt that Vera was incompetent, but because like all other areas in her life, she needed to feel in control. She had needed to convince herself that she wasn’t completely at the mercy of Vera’s tender love. She had needed to know that she could still function independently should she ever need to again. Until recently, a part of her had still fully expected Vera to grow tired of her one day and to silently move her things out of the house and then hand in her resignation at work.

 

Her stubborn, and albeit, clumsily worded, admission to this had come out during a brutal argument not long ago and had wounded Vera so deeply that Vera had left her house to return to the home that she had not yet sold. Subsequently, she had refused to speak Joan for two agonizing days. At work, she had walked right past Joan with her head held high and her eyes averted, any communication between them was strictly kept to curt email messages. Joan had barely eaten during those torturous 48 hours. The meals she’d so painstakingly prepared for herself had been thrown, violently, into the garbage on the first night when she’d returned from work to an empty house and an even emptier bed. She had accepted the pang of hunger that she felt as her punishment for inadvertently harming her delicate lover. The truth was that Joan could survive without Vera, but she explicitly did not want to; that want, that desire to have Vera near her, she had discovered it to be both her salvation and her undoing.

 

When Vera had finally returned to her, late on the second evening of her punishment, she’d been in tears on her doorstep, begging for Joan to let her in. Joan had been weak from a lack of sleep and nutrition, but mostly from the lack of contact from Vera, and had merely stepped aside to allow for her lover’s petite body to slip back into her house. Upon seeing Joan’s sunken features properly in the bright lights of her kitchen, Vera’s heart had instantly blessed Joan with the forgiveness that she both craved and yet did not feel worthy of. The next day, Vera had moved the remainder of her things in with Joan and had hired a real estate agent to sell her empty house. All meals were from that point onwards, save the occasional surprise breakfast in bed, jointly prepared.

 

“That would be nice,” Joan said after a while.

 

Vera wiggled her body even closer to Joan and rubbed her button nose against her collarbone. “Perfect. It’s settled then. We’ll stay in and maybe you can teach me a new recipe tomorrow, hmm? Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Between her words, Vera’s lips puckered against Joan’s skin.

 

Joan grinned lazily and ran a hand through Vera’s messy curls. She felt sleep begin to pull at her heavy limbs and she was loathe to give into it so soon. From her experience, she knew that Vera probably had a good long while left in her before she would succumb to her own exhaustion.

 

Vera’s lips trailed upwards to map out the defined edge of Joan’s jaw. She adored her lover’s strong features and sharp angles, adored the way that they juxtaposed so beautifully with the soft curves and roundness of her body.

 

“You’re falling asleep, aren’t you?” Vera asked knowingly. She giggled as Joan raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at her.

 

“I most certainly am not,” Joan said haughtily. A moment later a yawn escaped her lips and she blushed embarrassedly.

 

“Joan it’s okay. Go to sleep,” Vera gently ordered.

 

“No,” Joan’s hand at Vera’s back pulled her deeper into their embrace and she rested her lips against Vera’s forehead, “I don’t want to. Not yet,” she said with mild urgency.

 

She wasn’t ready to close her eyes against the heavenly image of Vera’s smiling face, her messy hair, her golden skin, her ocean-blue eyes. They’d wasted so much time already. Dancing around one another. Hurling insults and misunderstandings at each other. Stubbornly ignoring the magnetic pull that had existed between them since the day that they’d met. Denying themselves the pleasure of one another's touch until they each no longer could stand it. Joan didn’t want to waste anymore time, not when she was already on the older half of the only century she’d ever get to live and the danger of their jobs was increasing daily.  

 

“Talk to me,” Joan requested.

 

Vera exhaled against Joan’s neck. “What about?”

 

“Anything,” Joan said truthfully. She could listen to Vera talk about a subject as dry as staff rotations or the increasing price of oil and her ears would happily swallow her words whole. She could not get enough of Vera’s melodic voice and girlish laughter.

 

Vera regarded her thoughtfully before replying. “There was once a woman who very foolishly did not listen to her lover when she instructed her to go to sleep. And the next morning when she made them breakfast, the woman overslept and breakfast went cold ,” Vera tutted, “Which of course was the source of great annoyance to her lover because she’d gotten up and out of the very lovely arms of the woman to make them a nice breakfast, when it would have been much easier to simply lay in bed with the woman all day.”

 

Joan laughed, deep and rich, and sought out Vera’s pursed lips which were twitching with the effort not to give into the smile that threatened to break through.

 

“Message received,” Joan conceded. “Though, I am sure that the woman would rather spend some time with her lover in bed before either one of them had to leave,” she said gently.

 

“Is that so?” Vera challenged.

 

“It is.” She doesn’t like waking alone , not when she could wake each morning with you, Joan thought to herself. Joan kissed her deeply, pouring her all of her affection for this endearingly loquacious woman next to her into the caress of her lips and tongue.

 

Vera parted from Joan, breathless from the depth and significance of her kiss and let out a half-sigh half-giggle. “That could be arranged. If the woman takes her lover’s advice that is,” Vera whispered.

 

Joan reached for the covers around their legs and pulled them up so that she and Vera were now under the luxurious Egyptian cotton.

 

“Don’t worry,” Vera sighed as she herself began to give into the languorous exhaustion that settled in her limbs, “we have all day tomorrow together,” she reminded Joan sweetly.


“I know,” Joan said warmly moments before she finally gave in and closed her eyes to the angelic scene before her. Her heart burgeoned at the knowledge that her gentle lover would be exactly where she was tomorrow. Safe, secure, and in her arms.