Queen of Love

She had never felt so small. Not insignificant. Not unworthy. But… small. Petite. Demure. Delicate.

Perfectly sized.

“You said something about the walk-in closet?” Aya loomed over Genevieve, peppering her chest and shoulders with light and airy kisses. “Not a bad idea. It’s either that or the window.”

The window! Genevieve had forgotten that they were in view of the window!

“Don’t worry, Genny.” Aya stood up. She didn’t bother to straighten her wrinkled clothes as she helped Genevieve regather her post-orgasmic bearings. “They’re tinted, and quite secure.”

“Have you done this before?” Genevieve teased.

Aya engulfed her with a tough but playful hold. Genevieve’s body seized up in delicious tension. Oh, yes – she was ready for more already.

“Window or closet? It’s the one thing I’ll let you decide today.”

Genevieve barely had her wits about her. She allowed her subconscious answer to err on the side of caution. “Closet.” There were no windows in that closet.

Aya took her by the hand and helped her off the counter. Genevieve stumbled in her sandals, and by the time she realized where she was, her dress had fallen down and her bra was disheveled on her chest. Genevieve pulled down her dress and stepped out of it. With only her underwear and shoes to protect her vulnerable body, Genevieve slipped her hand back into Aya’s and followed her into the back bedroom.

I feel like such a teenager right now. It didn’t take much for Genevieve to taste her youth again, but like this? With the kind of abandon that made her glow and forget her past? It was the last time I truly had not a care in the world. Back when everything was new, exciting, unbelievable. As if she had unlocked some cosmic discovery that hadn’t been experienced by half of the planet already.

She held on to that feeling as their footsteps echoed in the empty bedroom. Aya removed her jacket and tossed it over the first rack in the closet. By the time Genevieve was pressed against the built-in dresser, Aya came at her again, this time with the desperation of someone who couldn’t wait to give her girlfriend an experience.

“Unzip my pants,” Aya whispered as she nipped Genevieve’s ear.

How could Genevieve say no to that invitation? In her rush to feel everything there was to imagine, she had almost forgotten she could touch Aya, too. More like I forgot to ask permission. They were in that state. The one where everything happened to Genevieve.

Her sweaty fingers fumbled with Aya’s zipper. Genevieve’s attentions were so focused on the kisses she shared with her girlfriend, she almost missed the surprise tucked into Aya’s clothing.

“How?” That was the first word out of Genevieve’s mouth as she unearthed the strap-on she had never noticed “How in the world did you hide this? For me, no less!”

“It’s definitely for you,” Aya muttered against her girlfriend’s cheek. “Felt like as good a time as any to fuck you like this for the first time.”

“No wonder you kept denying my requests recently.” Genevieve grabbed what was beneath her hand. If she thought it would bring Aya’s hips closer to her, she was mistaken. “I thought maybe you didn’t like them.”

Aya gripped the edge of the dresser, forehead resting against Genevieve’s mouth. “I like them with women like you.”

“What are you waiting for?” Genevieve leaned against the wall behind her. Her legs were already fanned out. “Fuck me in my walk-in closet.” Before she had the chance to fill it with clothes, shoes, and hats. They would only inhibit fun like this in the future.

She didn’t know what she expected when Aya finally took her like that, but her thighs spread wide and underwear on the closet floor was a good start.

She feels so strong in my arms. That was the first sensation to soothe Genevieve’s nerves as they kissed in the closet and got used to each other’s movements. Not only her size. Her whole attitude is strong. Wasn’t it what attracted Genevieve to this woman in the first place? The affable confidence? That instinctive bravado? She wanted a woman like Aya as much as she wanted to be more like this woman. Even when Genevieve had been the one bending her ex-girlfriends over counters and couches, she had never felt what Aya must have simmering in her veins. Because that wasn’t merely the look of love. It was a heady gaze powerful enough to kill Genevieve’s romantic hubris. Her ego stood no chance in this closet.

That turned her on more than the words muttered against her jaw. She didn’t know what Aya said, but Genevieve knew they must have been hot.

She didn’t ask her girlfriend to repeat herself. Genevieve knew it was helpless. No matter how many lessons she took, dramas she watched, or books about “naughty Japanese” she flipped through by her Orchid Grove pool, she was utterly mute when those words effortlessly fell from her girlfriend’s lips.

It means I can interpret them any way I want. Genevieve decided those words were all about her body – and what Aya was about to do to it.

Sure enough, they went from zero to a hundred in as few as ten seconds. Once Aya was inside of Genevieve, she went at her as if this were their last chance to make love again.

I don’t know what it is about her… Didn’t Genevieve know, though? She only had to pick one aspect of her girlfriend to know what enthralled her. The spontaneity. The way she touches me. How hot I burn when I see her or hear her voice. When Genevieve thought about her past loves in these moments, it wasn’t to compare Aya to any of them. It was to compare her own heart to how she felt back in those tumultuous days.

Even if they thrust inside of her like this, it wasn’t the same. All the finesse and stamina in the world meant nothing if Genevieve wasn’t head over heels in love.

I could do this every day for the rest of my life. Not a single thing about this moment made her consider her thoughts. The way Aya kissed her was the fruit of Shangri-La. So were those cataclysmic thrusts spreading her open for all the universe to judge. Women like Genevieve were attracted to power, no matter how much they attempted to deny it. Aya’s power didn’t only lie in her body, but what she did with that power.

Genevieve wasn’t in this closet. She wasn’t in Tokyo. Her mind and soul had transcended the whole Earth and were on a journey that would leave her dazed and confused a whole day later.