Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

Amy buried her face against Sally’s chest, whimpering until the whimpers became rapid puffs of breath and the rapid puffs of breath became cute little mewling sounds which kept increasing in pitch until…

“I’m coming!” Amy told Sally’s breasts.

And then Amy was shuddering next to her and Sally was feeling her fingers inundated with more arousal and squeezed by Amy’s inner walls.

“Back to bed?” Sally whispered when Amy came down from the high.

“Yes, please.”

Chapter 33

Saturday morning arrived and it was time to go back home.

“Ready, baby?” Amy asked, standing by the door to their suite with her luggage. “Lyft will be here in ten.”

“I’m coming!” was Sally’s reply, called out from the bedroom.

Amy smirked to herself.

“But I haven’t even touched you!” she called back.

Sally emerged from the direction of the bedroom.

“Very funny,” she said. “Anyway, that’s everything.”

“Yay! One last kiss before we depart our magnificent palace?”

“Most definitely.”

Amy looped her arms around the taller Sally’s neck and brought their lips together, tasting Sally’s lip gloss as she slid her tongue into her girlfriend’s mouth and the kiss deepened.

Breaking for air after a few moments, Amy turned to the room and said, “Bye, room! Thanks for everything!”

As the Lyft driver maneuvered through the city on the way to the airport, Amy watched the passing urban scenery, ruminating on things while Sally took a phone call from her mother.

They had survived their first trip together, which Amy took to be a good sign. And the trip had been fabulous! Amy was so relieved that in Sally, she had found a girlfriend who loved exploring and wandering around a city like San Francisco as much as she did. Every day they had been out, visiting, seeing and doing all manner of things in all parts of the city. Even Thursday, when it rained all day, they had bought umbrellas in the hotel’s gift shop and spent the day visiting another art museum and then riding the BART to different parts of town to enjoy shopping or eating seafood or just walking in the rain.

And the sex…

In the back seat of the Honda Passport they were riding in, Amy had to cross her legs at the memory of all the sex they’d had. Their carnal fun had certainly been kicked up a notch during this trip. Eating Sally out in the elevator bank on the eleventh floor had been but one example of their daring public or quasi-public sexual exploits. Well past midnight one night, Sally had pulled a completely nude Amy out onto their suite’s balcony and fucked her mercilessly with the strap-on, Amy covering her mouth with her hand so as not to scream out in ecstasy with each thrust. And on that rainy Thursday, because the city had been remarkably devoid of people who were out and about, they had ended up in Golden Gate Park fingering each other under an enormous tree.

The only black mark during their trip had been that slight blip of an argument on Wednesday morning. Amy had to admit to herself that it had not only scared her at the time but it was still scaring her now.

Annabeth.

Three years ago, Amy had been in a serious relationship with a woman from Oceanside named Annabeth. They had even lived together in Oceanside in a cute little apartment within walking distance of the pier. But then Annabeth had started getting annoyed with how much work Amy would bring home from the office and then when that was done, how much work Amy would put in writing her then nascent Lesbeing blog.

They started fighting a lot, with Annabeth accusing Amy of only being half-invested in their relationship; asking her why they had even bothered moving in together.

Naturally, Amy had defended herself. In those days, she had been relatively new at the North County Women’s Rights Group and so had felt a need to work extra in order to prove herself. And her new blog was her way of decompressing.

Both of those explanations were true. But even back then, Amy had known that they were true…to a point. Yes, she had been new at her job but she hadn’t been expected to work beyond office hours as much as she did. And, yes, the blog was a great decompression activity but spending more time with Annabeth doing almost anything else would have also been

a great way to decompress too.

No, the real truth was, that Amy liked working as much as she did—it was almost like a drug for her—and in the end, her relationship with Annabeth had become a casualty of that.

Was history going to repeat itself with Sally, she wondered? Okay, Sally had ended up being cool about the whole getting-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-to-work-on-the-blog thing. But Amy was worried. She was worried because over the past couple of days, as their vacation was getting closer and closer to ending, she had recognized the familiar stirrings in herself, the familiar need to get stuff done. She had even spent quite a bit of brainpower on considering what she was going to get working on as soon as Monday came around and she returned to the office.