The Favor

"In here," her friend said, as she pulled out her keys and unlocked an unassuming door on the top floor. Tracy jumped in as soon as it was open, still electrified at nearly being caught. The server room on the other side was quite cool, compared to the office space they'd just escaped from, and much louder. White noise from so many cooling fans. It surprised her, a moment later when Brit pulled her deeper into the room, as she realized that she hadn't let go of Brit's hand. Not once in their flight.

"Don't say anything," Tracy whispered, as she leaned back against the wall.

Brit smiled as she moved in close, faces hovering. "I wasn't gonna."

Tracy again reached up for her friends face, palms cupping against her cheeks to draw her into another kiss, and she gasped when Brit's hands moved more purposefully. She moved slightly to her side, giving her left hand room to press flat against Tracy's tummy. Fingertips pointing down. She paused, watching Tracy's reaction, and licked her lips.

Tracy leaned her head back into the wall, her senses focused on that hand. The feel of it, firm against her over her blouse. The warmth of it. The intent of it. She knew where it was aimed. Where it was heading. She knew what came next. She tried to say 'yes', but her breath failed her. Instead, all she could manage was a nervous nod.

Brit smiled, and Tracy gasped louder as fingertips slid beneath the waistband of her jeans.

She let go of her friends face and rushed to unbutton and unzipper her jeans, and then gasped louder as the blonde ran her fingers along her labia. One finger down each lip. Somewhat softer than stroking. Somewhat harder than teasing. She let go of her jeans, and her hands drifted out to either side of her as her friend set upon her.

The meager lighting cast long shadows on her friends face, highlighting the intensity of Brit's eyes, set deep in blackness, and demanding she return the stare. Demanding she not look away. Hypnotic. Noses brushing. Brit's breath hot on her cheek. She fell into the blue orbs, losing herself little by little. An eternity passing before their lips met again.

Her friend swallowed her moans as the tip of the middle finger burrowed between her folds to press gently on her pink pearl. She rolled up onto her toes, lifting the heels of her boots an inch or more up into the air, as Brit swirled and circled. Rolling around the sides of her clit in an endless tide. Clockwise. Always clockwise. Never stopping.

Tracy's knees alternately stiffened and weakened, causing her to ride the wall up and down. Her soft curls flounced. Breath came inconsistently, haltingly, and without enough oxygen. Or at least, that was what Tracy imagined was the source of her lightheadedness. Her left hand shot out to grab the leg of a server rack, while the right slid restlessly along the smooth drywall beside her.

Always clockwise. Never stopping.

Brit's right hand curled around her shoulder from behind. Clutching for leverage. Tracy found herself nodding in encouragement, nodding feverishly, although no question had been asked. Slick wetness engulfed Brit's fingertips, providing smooth pressure everywhere they slid. Always the middle finger swirled around her button, but the index and ring fingers also explored further down. Massaging her dark lips.

She has nimble fingers was the first coherent thought Tracy had strung together in almost ten minutes.

Her whines were non-verbal, formless and without meaning as defined within the English language, and instead produced a vast lexicon of sounds that brought a slow smile to Brit's lips. A small noise of hesitation, as her diaphragm clenched and unclenched rapidly. A whimper of strain, as muscles held taut for a few too many seconds finally relaxed. There was no logical sense to be found in anything that passed through Tracy's lips but her friend gave a knowing smile.

There was hunger in her friend's eyes. Deep, abiding hunger. Tracy knew it was for her, and she shuddered. It was beyond flattering, beyond humbling, to think of herself as being desired that way. The idea of being wanted so viscerally, so tangibly, brought her chin low against her chest, but still she held Brit's gaze. She dared not look away.

The jagged peak came suddenly, rearing up through a fog of physical sensations so thick she could not say how much time had passed, or what day it was, or where she was at all. Not in that moment. She threw her head back and squealed, and was grateful for the hand Brit laid over her mouth to muffle her. Even as she did that, though, Brit continued to finger her mercilessly. Ruthlessly. As if muffling Tracy gave her permission to open the throttle as wide as it would go.

Tracy's eyes rolled up behind the lids, unconsciously losing the staring contest, though her world brightened rather than going dark. Piercing light, penetrating every cell of her body. Every corner of her soul. Cascading in every color.

She was the prism. Radiating.

She slumped forward, throwing her arms around Brit, as she came down from her climax, to brace herself. Brit laughed throatily, catching her and easing her down to her knees when Tracy's legs became incapable of supporting her. Brit, too, knelt down beside her, with hands gripping her hips, and kissed her passionately. With fire. Tracy's post-orgasmic lethargy left her lips moving slowly, unable to keep up with the beautiful blonde assaulting her with a deadly tongue.

Brit bit down on her lower lip, eliciting a sharp yelp from her. Pulled back farther and farther. Tracy whined, hands frantically twitching as she tried to comprehend the acute sting now parked alongside the vast acreage of pleasure. Her friend laughed softly when she finally let go, and pressed the top of her forehead against the top of Tracy's.

"That was..."

"You're beautiful when you cum," Brit said.

Tracy panted and put both hands on Brit's shoulders, equally attempting to keep Brit from being too close and keeping Brit from moving any further away. She looked down, unable to meet that intensity again, and found herself staring at Brit's thighs. Pebbled with gooseflesh. Distantly, she was aware that the room was cold, but she hadn't felt even the tiniest bit of that. She felt like the heat inside of her should have been enough to light the room around them on fire.

"Why don't you lie back?" Brit whispered, leaning in so close that the tiny hairs on her ear registered the breath. Just enough of Tracy was present to comply. She leaned forward, lifting herself up onto her knees rather than sitting on her heels, and pushed her jeans and panties down as far as they would go. Brit held her, gently guiding her back, and ran her fingers through curls that fanned out around Tracy's head in all directions.

She moved slowly, sideways, to be kneeling next to Tracy's torso, and smiled as she removed her own shirt. A canary yellow bikini top underneath stretched over small buds. She curled her fingers into the triangular fabric and pulled down and away, tucking it beneath the flesh of her breasts. Beautiful, small nipples. She smiled again as she brushed her fingertips over the tips of them, and leaned over Tracy.

Tracy muffled herself, covering her mouth with one hand, when she heard Brit moaning happily. She likes my taste, she thought. Her skin flushed from her forehead to her chest. She likes my taste. More so than the feel of the tongue slithering further and further through her cleft, and more than the sound of Brit clearly enjoying herself, Tracy came unhinged at the thought of being wanted. Again.

Brit reached around her left thigh, fingertips crawling like spiders, and drew her left knee up into the air. Tracy struggled to kick her jeans further down, so that the whole thing was bunched around her ankles, and spread her legs wide. The fingertips continued to crawl, pulling at her flesh. A rush of cold air across the wetness inside of her. Tracy moaned.

Brit writhed beside her. One hand massaging and groping her own breast while the other spread Tracy open for the feast. Her thighs and calves flexed in Tracy's peripheral vision as Brit leveraged herself up and back. Up and back.

Up and back.

Her tongue felt different than her fingers had, and Tracy had no difficulty designating the tongue as the superior sensation. This time, she could feel the orgasm from much farther off. It was present, arriving sooner rather than later, and Tracy was overwhelmed with the sight of Brit's hips flexing and wiggling beside her. She excitedly reached for the button to Brit's cutoffs, and fought the zipper successfully despite the odd angle. Brit was unaffected by her clumsy efforts and continued to lap lavishly at her clenched opening. Though, when Tracy started pulling, Brit did lift one leg to ease its course.

Tracy twisted, keeping her hips mostly flat while raising up her right shoulder, and launched herself tongue first into Brit's beautifully small pussy. Nevermind that she had no idea what to do; the thought of not returning what she was feeling was intolerable. She liked the smooth feeling of Brit's labia against her cheeks and chin, and had a moment of panic when she realized that she herself possessed quite a bit more hair.

The moment passed quickly. Brit's enthusiastic moaning was in no way couched, restrained, or mixed in its message.

Tracy looped her arm around her friend's hips and grabbed a cheekful in her hand. Brit immediately began thrusting at her, grinding her puffy mound against Tracy's lips and tongue with enough force to momentarily push Tracy back, but she persisted. She went right after Brit's clit, and was amazed at how small it was. Her own hooded bundle of nerves was enough to poke out between her folds. Brit's, on the other hand, was so small she could barely differentiate it without the sudden and immediate response from Brit herself.

Throaty moans. The kind that cannot be delivered with an upbeat expression. The kind that accompany a need so base that words fail to encapsulate it. The kind that cannot hide what they are, or what they are in response to. Tracy brimmed with pride at drawing such a sound from her friend, and was brought low seconds later when Brit moved to copy her. Both of them worrying at each others' clits. Brit pursed her lips around the swollen tip of Tracy's pink nib and sucked, drawing a centimeter or more into her mouth.

When the vacuum wasn't enough to drive her over the edge Brit applied her tongue, and that did the trick.

Tracy grabbed Brit's hips and buried her face between the blonde's thighs. Muffling herself as she orgasmed again. Powerful electric current coursed through her skin, leaving her twitching. Fresh sparks arced from limb to limb as Brit continued to nibble on her folds, chewing and gnawing like a mother cat with her kittens.

Despite a few pauses, when the waves were so strong that all she could do was hold on, Tracy continued to lick. Her tongue lashed back and forth, spreading wide to consume a mouthful of her friend's juice and narrowing to focus her efforts.

Finally Brit pulled back and looked down at her, cheeks and forehead bright red. Tracy followed as Brit rolled onto her back, chasing the target of her obsession with single-minded determination.

"Fuck," Brit whined, between labored breaths. "Two fingers. Two fingers. Two fingers."

Tracy shifted herself and brought her left hand in over Brit's leg. Her index and middle fingers pushed in easily, aided by her friends surprisingly thin fluid. It reminded Tracy of the ocean.

"Fuck!" Brit groaned, again grinding her cleft into Tracy's face. "Fuck! One... one more. One more."

Tracy happily brought her ring finger to bear, and delighted in the strain on her knuckles as the tight opening squeezed them together in a cluster.

"Fuck!" Brit bucked beneath her, lifting nearly her entire backside an inch above the floor. Tracy rolled more fully over her, driving her back down to the floor and working her fingers more quickly. Brit was so wet that fluid webbed between her fingers and dripped from her knuckles. "Fuck!"

Brit covered her own mouth with both hands to stop a full, from-the-gut groan. Her entire body, from her heels to her shoulder, rose up. Tracy took it slow, continuing to work her friend over and maintain, while Brit succumbed.

She collapsed to the floor hard, nearly losing her breath, and continued to moan heavily. Tracy slowed again, leaving her fingers buried deep within her friend while her tongue delivered the smallest ministrations she could manage. Brit finally uncovered her mouth, and every breath left with a little delightful gasp attached to the end.

"Bloody hell," Brit whined. Tracy slumped to her side, laying alongside her friend, and panted heavily. She wiped her fingers along her chin and savored every drop. "Bloody fucking hell. You learn quick."

Tracy smiled and rolled onto her back. Brit's hand, laid softly over her tummy, brought a warm feeling, and she moved quickly to hold it and press it more tightly against herself. She closed her eyes, and...

"Wishing things were different."

"Yeah," Brit said, still spaced out.

"I said 'I wish things had been different.' I said that." Tracy's voice had lost all of its color. All of its vibrancy. "You were wearing a green top with a scarf. You used to love to wear scarves."

"Yeah, I—" Brit sat up, gasping a little, and watched. "Trace..."

Tracy licked her lips as she stared up at the ceiling. "I said that."

"Trace, this is reality." Brit's voice was weak too. Wavering. "Wishes aren't real."

"I meant it too," Tracy said, as her eyes began to water. "Oh God... Jeff..."

"Oh." Brit looked down and away, and quickly pulled her bikini top back into a decent place. "I see."

"Oh God, what have I done?"

Brit nodded as she reached for her clothes. "Let's get you home."

***

"Jesus Christ," Jeff said, as he opened the front door. Tracy huddled in on herself as she stepped onto the porch. Brit hovered quietly behind her, feet shuffling through the grass. "Where the fuck have you been?!"

"I'm sorry," Tracy whined, cringing, but that only seemed to enrage Jeff further.

"Where the fuck have you been?!"

"Hey—" Brit said, but Jeff rolled right over her as if she hadn't said a word.

"Why haven't you answered your fucking phone?! We've been worried sick!! I've been calling you for hours!!"

"I'm sorry," Tracy cried.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

"Hey!" Brit yelled, taking a step forward.

"I don't know who the fuck you are," Jeff shouted, turning toward her, "but you've done enough for one fucking night."

"I'm so sorry," Tracy sobbed.

"Do you have any idea how fucking selfish that was?! Do you have any idea how shitty that was? Out of nowhere! I had to be the one to get the fucking noose down from the rafter before the fucking EMT showed up! Forget about me! Do you have any idea what you've put the girls through?!"

Brit leaped forward, screaming like an Amazon, and delivered a staggering right hook. Jeff spun almost completely around, and had to brace himself against the bricking on the front of their house, while Brit howled and pressed her thighs tightly around her aching fist.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Jeff screamed, his right hand cupped beneath his bleeding lip. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!"

"This isn't what she needs right now!" Brit whined, through clenched teeth.

"She," Jeff yelled, stabbing a finger at Tracy, "didn't think about anyone but herself!" He took a step toward her, furious, but came up short when Tracy stepped between them.

"Stop!" she sobbed. "Just stop!"

"Get in the house."

"Don't talk to her," Brit shouted, while bent over in tremendous pain, "like she's some kind of—"

"Get. In. The. House."

Tracy slumped, her arms falling to her sides, and shook her head. "No."

"I can't take this," he said, voice finally falling back into the realm of normal volume. He wiped at his bloody lip again and stared hard at Brit as he turned and thundered back in through the front door. Once the screen door stopped bouncing the night became a terrifying kind of quiet, and Tracy began to cry again.

"Come on," Brit said softly, reaching around Tracy's shoulders.

***

"He was right," Tracy said, breaking twenty minutes of silence just as she sat down on the edge of Brit's bed. "Every word of it."

"You can't—"

"I hid it from him. I hid that I was hurting, really hurting, from everyone, and then..." She drew a shuddering breath, ribs quivering, and shook her head. "He's not a bad man. This-this wasn't his..."

Her friend nodded and bit her lip. "You really tried? To—" Brit's voice failed her, choking. She swallowed and tried again. "To h-hang yourself?"

Tracy nodded, eyes focused well beyond the walls of her friend's flat. "The chair was wobbly under me. I think I uh... I think I fell off before..."

"You should get some rest."

"Okay," Tracy said weakly, and she allowed herself to be tipped to the side. Her head sank into the pillow. Brit grabbed a quilted blanket from the closet and draped it over her, though it took effort to do so with only one good hand.

Her friend smiled and brushed her hair back. "We can talk in the morning," Brit said, as she stood up. "I'll be right out here." Tracy was unresponsive as she stood and moved toward the hallway.

"I didn't, though."

"What?" Brit said, pausing with her hand on the door.

"I didn't... I didn't hide it from everyone. I couldn't hide it from you."

Her friend looked down. "Fat lot of good that did."

"You knew." Tracy stared curiously at her, trying to puzzle out how while Brit smiled sadly and turned. "Wait."

"Hmm?" Halfway out the door.

"I... I-I don't think I... I don't w-want to be alone tonight."

Brit took a heavy breath and nodded. "Alright," she said, as she closed the door.

Tracy had thought she was all cried out, but she was wrong.

//Follow-up note: Votes and comments are dearly appreciated. This is one of seven stories I'll be uploading (hopefully) on successive days. If you liked this, stay tuned and be sure to check out the others!//