Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance Page 15

  Crap!

  Don’t authors usually write something other than their names? Like, a personal message? Something witty?

  Sally’s mouth went dry. She didn’t know anything witty to write! And she’d only known Clara all of two days! That certainly wasn’t long enough to jot down something personal.

  Suddenly, it came to her and she wrote To Clara, a future star in the world of graphic arts!

  Not witty, perhaps, but certainly personal and encouraging!

  Then another problem presented itself. Looking up at Clara, she asked, “Do you want me to sign it with my real name or as Jillian Ashley?”

  “As Jillian, please!” Clara said. “No! Wait! Can you sign it as Jillian and then put your real name in parentheses underneath it? That would be so cool!”

  “Sure,” Sally answered and then was faced with yet another problem; one she never thought she’d ever have in her entire life, even if she lived to be one-hundred: On the fly, and with someone watching her, she had to come up with a convincing signature using a different name. Somehow, she managed to scrawl a glyph-like signature that looked like it had a J, what might be two Ls and the first three letters of the name Ashley, but only if you squinted just right. In truth, it was illegible, but then again, isn’t that what most signatures are?

  “There you are,” Sally said, handing the book back to Clara, who read the inscription and then clutched the book to her chest.

  “Thank you so much! You’re the best! God, I can’t believe I got to meet you! And now I get to work with you too!”

  “Well…um…just keep reading!” Sally said because it sounded like an authorly thing to say.

  Fortunately, Clara left her alone then and Sally took a big slug of her freshly-brewed coffee, figuring that that was probably the weirdest thing that would happen to her today.

  ***

  She was wrong.

  No sooner had she reached home after work when her mother called.

  “Hey, Mom,” she answered, toeing off her shoes by the front door. Lena sat up on the couch, a disapproving look on her face, as if the cat had been thinking that today was the day the human would finally not come back, leaving the entire condo for herself.

  “I can’t read any more of your book,” Leslie stated. “I just got to the first sex part and, uh-uh, I just can’t.”

  Sally groaned inwardly, blushing hotly. With her free hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

  Fuck!

  Jillian Ashley sex scenes were legendary. Sure, people loved the books because of the strong plots and well-developed characters, but what they talked about—on Twitter, Facebook, podcasts…basically anywhere lesbians gathered—were the sex scenes.

  Having read The Fordham Road Fling so many times, Sally knew—by heart—the first sex scene in that book. And how graphic it was. Especially the bit about the finger vibe.

  And now her mother thought she had written it.

  What did I do to deserve this?

  Sally sighed.

  “Yeah, Mom, it’s probably best if you stop reading,” she said.

  “Are all the books like that?” Leslie asked. “Did you have to be so…detailed?”

  “Mom, the books aren’t just about sex! Did you not pay attention to how Jilli—I mean, I—did a great job introducing the characters and setting up the story and all that?”

  “I will hand it to you,” Leslie said, as if reluctantly conceding a point, “that, yes, the writing is excellent and you did get me interested in the story, but once I got to this sex scene…I guess I’m just not used to that in the books I normally read.”

  “Yeah, well, the women who read lesbian romances tend to like graphic sex scenes, Mom. If I stopped writing them, I may have to leave the country. Although, I don’t know where I’d go because I have fans all over the world.”

  “Really?” Leslie asked, obviously not believing her daughter.

  Sally rolled her eyes. Of course her snobbish surgeon mother would have trouble believing that books like The Fordham Road Fling would be popular the world over because her snobbish surgeon mother only read books shortlisted for the Pulitzer Prize.

  So, taking a seat next to Lena on the sofa (the cat, by the way, still looking like she still hadn’t forgiven the human for coming home), Sally put her feet up on the coffee table.

  “Yes, Mom, really,” Sally said, letting a little exasperation creep into her voice. “Lesbian romance is a thriving genre of fiction because it gives women like me a chance to read books that feature characters we can relate to and so, yes, the Jillian Ashley books are read all over the planet.”

  “Well, fine,” her mother began, “but what am I supposed to do about reading the rest of your book?”

  “Just skip the sex scenes, Mom,” Sally said with a sigh. “That means skipping chapters seven, ten, eleven, seventeen, twenty-one, twenty-five, thirty-two, thirty-nine and forty-three.”

  She suddenly sat upright.

  God, should she be worried that she could rattle off the sex chapters in a single book without stopping for breath? That didn’t seem…healthy.

  “Whatever you do, don’t read chapter twenty-five,” she added sternly. “Like, seriously, Mom…When you get to chapter twenty-five, skip it.”

  “Why did you bother writing it, then?” Leslie asked.

  Putting aside the fact that I actually didn’t write it…

  “Because lesbians like things like chapter twenty-five, Mom!”

  You have no idea how much lesbians like things like chapter twenty-five!

  “Well, I suppose they are your audience…”

  Eventually, Sally managed to steer the conversation away from “her” books and onto other topics, including Camille and her family. Finally, Sally was able to get her mother off the phone and then she sat there, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her night.

  Lisa had a date and even Max was “indisposed”—his term, which Sally took to mean having a date of his own.

  What Sally really wanted to do was Amy. That is, what she really wanted to do was hang out with Amy, although, truth be told, she also wanted to do Amy. The problem was, Amy was also indisposed tonight. Apparently, she had underestimated the amount of effort it was going to take to craft that presentation for…who was it again? A councilwoman or something? Sally couldn’t remember. Anyway, to craft that super important presentation about the equal rights amendment. Earlier, Amy had texted Sally, telling her that her boss was coming over this evening to help and that it was unlikely she’d be able to go on a date tonight or do anything else fun.

  Sally, though disappointed, understood. What Amy was striving for was important and if she could support her by simply staying out of the way, then that is what she would do.

  So, her Friday night was going to be one of her typical home alone Friday nights.

  After taking a shower and changing into pink pj shorts and a tank, she heated up some leftovers for dinner and put on her new favorite show on Netflix: Kim’s Convenience. It didn’t have any lesbians in it but it was hilarious. She binged two seasons worth of it, having some chocolate chip ice cream with caramel sauce dribbled on top of it halfway through season three.

  Having had enough TV, she told Alexa to play her favorite reading playlist, picked up her Kindle and continued reading a fun f/f sci-fi adventure one of her Twitter friends had recommended. She wondered if Max would consider having Jillian write a sci-fi lesbian romance. She’d have to mention it to him.

  Finally, she started yawning. The clock told her it was just past eleven and since she had no real reason to stay up super late, decided to head to bed. Tomorrow morning she’d get up early, go for a run and maybe have coffee down at the beach.

  Then her phone pinged.

  Amy!

  You still up?

  Sally eagerly texted back.

  I am!

  Thank god! was Amy’s reply.

  LOL! Why?

  Amy’s answer came quickly…
<
br />   I need RELEASE!

  Chapter 23

  Amy couldn’t sit still.

  Sally was on her way and the anticipation of her arrival was making Amy’s body practically buzz with excitement because she needed Sally!

  The past two days had been hell. But a good hell, she supposed, because though it had been hard work, the cause was important. Yesterday and today, both at the office and at home, Amy had been busting her ass getting ready for her and Makeda’s meeting on Tuesday with Supervisor Edelmann. They weren’t going to be able to just walk into her office and say, “Make it happen!” Amy knew that most politicians today think the ERA is a relic from the past and a waste of time. They argue that much of what the ERA proposes is already guaranteed by the 14th Amendment of the US constitution, which grants equal protection of the laws to everyone. What’s more, there are already numerous protections against discrimination for women, such as Title IX, for example, and statutory protections against pay discrimination and gender-based violence. The problem, however, is that there are still too many conservative-minded politicians and jurists—with real power—who actively work at undermining those protections. Therefore, until the ERA is officially ratified and thus made federal law, women’s rights were technically still at risk.

  In the meantime, until the ERA is ratified at the federal level, a movement has been occurring throughout the country to at least get counties, cities and other such entities to add equal rights amendments to their constitutions and charters in the hope that getting enough of these smaller pieces of America to officially declare that women have the same rights and protections as men—by law—the federal government will finally take action and make the Equal Rights Amendment part of the U.S. constitution.

  The trick would be convincing Supervisor Edelmann to help push this cause forward at the county level. Amy and Makeda knew they had a potential champion in Christine Edelmann because of on-the-record comments she had made in the past supporting not only the federal ERA but also an ERA for San Diego County.

  Yesterday and today, Amy had worked long hours, both at the office and at home. This evening, Makeda had come over to help with some of the research to include in their presentation on Tuesday and to offer insight into and critique of Amy’s work so far. The session had been a success, in Amy’s opinion, and she felt like she was finally taming this beast of a project.

  She still wasn’t done, though. She would need to continue working through the weekend, which she was more than willing to do. But for tonight…she needed to be fucked. Getting herself off wasn’t going to cut it; not this time.

  Her doorbell rang and she practically sprinted to open it. When she did, she pulled Sally inside and started kissing her straight away. She didn’t care if it was rude and by Sally’s reaction, neither did Sally. They hadn’t seen each other since Thursday morning, when Sally had left Amy’s apartment to go to work and though Amy had been super busy since then, she had missed Sally. Having sex with her was like taking a drug.

  “Hi,” Amy said when their lips separated briefly for air.

  “Hi,” Sally returned, and then that was it for talking. Never breaking their lip lock, Amy expertly—and walking backwards—guided them both to her bedroom and once inside, the two women began undressing themselves until, nude, they fell on the bed, Amy pulling Sally on top of her.

  “Babe, I need hard and rough,” Amy growled and then groaned when Sally gave her an absolutely predatory look with those emerald-green eyes.

  “Where do you keep them?” Sally asked and Amy knew exactly what she meant.

  “Container just inside the closet,” she answered.

  Sally scampered off the bed and Amy watched her locate her toybox—a large plastic storage bin. She saw Sally pull the lid off, survey the contents and then turn to look at her again and Amy almost came right then at the pure depravity in those eyes. Her already rapidly beating heart started beating faster in anticipation.

  The harness was pulled out and pulled on—exactly what Amy was hoping for. The pink dildo, the one with the large and bulbous head was attached to it.

  That will do nicely!

  But when Sally walked back, she had something else in her hand and she held it up for Amy to see and Amy, as turned on and horny as she was, felt dizzy with expectation.

  Oh, my god, yes!

  “What a coincidence,” Sally purred. “I have the exact same one.”

  The lube was in her nightstand drawer and Amy hurriedly took it out.

  “I’ll take that,” Sally instructed, holding out her hand and then taking it from Amy.

  “How do you want me?” Amy squeaked.

  “No, no…” Sally said, shaking her head. “How do you want it?”

  That required no thought. Amy got on all fours, raising her ass high, presenting herself, all of herself, to her lover.

  She felt the mattress shift as Sally got back on the bed and then…

  “Oh, fuuuuuck, yes!” Amy called out as she felt Sally push the dildo into her, that bulbous head stretching her as it penetrated deeper and deeper. And then Sally was fucking her, the thrusts long and deep, Amy’s core lubricating the passage for the dildo, so much so that each time Sally pulled back, Amy felt her upper thighs sprayed with arousal.

  But this was just the teaser, Amy knew, because after no more than a couple of minutes of Sally pounding her and just before Amy felt herself nearing that point of no return, Sally slowed and stopped.

  “Yes?” Sally asked.

  “Yes! Fuck, yes!” Amy exclaimed.

  She felt the viscous wetness of the lube fall on her rear opening and then…

  “Oh, fuuuuuck, yes!” Amy called out again, this time as the aluminum butt plug, the one with the heart shaped gem in the base was slowly slid in.

  “So pretty…” Sally murmured when it was securely inside.

  Now, double-penetrated, Amy was fucked again with the dildo, the pleasing weight of the metal plug adding another dimension to the pleasures shooting throughout her entire lower half. Her hair was grabbed, used by Sally for extra leverage to drive the pink toy in as far as it could go, Amy grunting or crying out ecstatically with each thrust, calling Sally’s name this time, God’s name that time, ordering Sally not to stop, telling her to go faster.

  Finally, she came undone.

  “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” she screamed. “Fuuuuuck! I’m coming!”

  It was an explosion between her legs.

  Her pussy was the purest form of pleasure imaginable as it spasmed and clutched at the invader inside it at the same time her ass was clenching around that plug. Her orgasm kept her screaming, louder than she normally did, both of her openings radiating rapture, her pussy squirting as Sally kept fucking her throughout it.

  “There’s another one in there, baby, let it out!” Sally ordered.

  And sure enough, the second orgasm hit her then. Her screams reached new decibel levels and she would swear that everything below her waist was liquid.

  Sally yanked her hair a bit harder.

  “Rub your clit!” she commanded. “There’s another one in there! Give it to me!”

  Her clit was a swollen, electrified button, almost too sensitive to touch by now but as soon as Amy’s finger pressed hard against it she grunted as the next orgasm burst free and as its waves roiled through her she collapsed on the bed, Sally adroitly falling with her, now lying right on top of her, that pink dildo buried completely in her pussy, the plug still in her ass, a satisfying feeling of fullness adding to the explosions of her climax.

  Amy, trembling, screamed into her pillow, never wanting this night to end.

  ***

  Amy licked her lips, Sally’s come all over them, and swallowed.

  Sally tasted so damn good. And, heavens, when the woman came, the floodgates opened, giving Amy all she could care to coat her tongue with.

  Coming up from between Sally’s long legs, Amy snuggled against her, holding Sally as she rode out this latest orgasm A
my had given her.

  Were they finally done? Amy had no idea. She had thought they might be done a while ago but then more of her toys were brought out and things picked right back up again.

  “Jesus, baby…” Sally muttered.

  Amy responded by nuzzling her neck.

  “Did you get the release you needed?” Sally asked.

  “And then some,” Amy purred.

  Christ, and then some!

  Their sex had been exactly what she had wanted when she had sent that text to Sally just after Makeda left. It had been hard and rough with fast orgasms that had shaken her bones. She had been demanding, so demanding. But so had Sally. And through it all, hair had been pulled, asses spanked and new bite marks made all over their bodies. Amy felt like a new woman now after all the pressure of the past two days.

  “I still have to work during the weekend, though,” Amy told Sally now. “Much of it anyway.”

  “That’s cool,” Sally replied. “I have a bunch of errands I need to run anyway and then maybe I’ll hang out with my best friend a bit.”

  “Is she pretty?” Amy asked, suddenly feeling a little jealous.

  “Lisa? She’s gorgeous.”

  “Ugh! You’re supposed to tell me she looks like a troll!”

  “Oh, right, sorry. Yeah, Lisa is practically Shrek’s twin.”

  “Shrek’s an ogre but I’ll accept your answer.” Amy rose up on her elbow just enough to be able to kiss Sally.

  “Lisa is harmless,” Sally reassured her. “If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened a long time ago. Besides, I bet you have a cute friend or two.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop being jealous. But I’d like to see you later today.”

  “How about a dinner date?” Sally suggested. “Roosevelt Pizza?”

  Amy liked that idea and agreed immediately.

  The sheets and blanket were pulled up over them by Sally and then the two women snuggled together and Amy felt sleep finally begin to overtake her.