Talk Is Cheap
Fucking cheerleaders, Missy thought as she strode away from the gym towards
the parking lot, pulling the car keys from her pocket. She'd had it with
these airheads, their inane cheers, and those skimpy outfits. It was
demeaning. She was a fucking gymnast, not a Barbie doll. It was stupid to
think that she could go along with this, stupid to think that hormonal
overdrive -- a fucking crush -- was justification enough for putting herself
through this. Hell, half the school --
"What's up, Missy? Torrance catch you checking her out in the showers
Swearing under her breath, Missy turned slowly to see the condescension
written all over Courtney's face.
"I already told her we don't need an uber-dyke on the squad. Affects team
morale. It's a trust thing, y'know? How are we gonna know if you're watching
our backs if you're, well, watching our asses?"
"Sit on it," Missy bit off irritably, flipping Courtney the finger.
Courtney's gaze flicked over Missy. "Sorry, not my thing. You might wanna
try Coach Gibson. I hear she's a raging lesbo too. I'd watch out for the
problem facial hair though."
Shoving the keys angrily back into her pocket, Missy walked towards the
other girl. "I'm thinkin' there's gotta be some reason why you're so fixated
on which side I play for." Missy advanced a few steps further, until
Courtney slunk back against the passenger door of another car. "Takes one to
know one, isn't that how it goes?"
Courtney threw her head back in actressy laughter before staring Missy down.
"You wish, Ellen." The blonde, satisfied that she'd won this little
tete-a-tete, attempted to push past the other girl.
Missy didn't budge. Instead she stared at Courtney, taking in the workout
kit of gym shorts and sports halter, lingering over the taut stomach and the
swell of ample breasts. She watched the blonde shift in discomfort but when
Missy brought her eyes up to meet Courtney's she wasn't entirely surprised
to find slightly dilated pupils staring back at her.
"I repeat, takes one to know one." Missy said in a low voice, lips curled in
Courtney was starting to look nervous; she kept glancing towards the doors
of the school building. "As if. I don't like girls," the blonde insisted,
her eyebrows drawn together in annoyance.
"No?" Missy said, moving closer still until there was barely an inch between
their bodies. She could feel the heat rising off the other girl's skin. She
braced her arms on either side of Courtney's waist, allowing her no avenue
Courtney's breath caught audibly in her throat.
Missy's smile broadened. "Maybe you like one particular girl?"
"Whitney and I --"
Missy moved her hand up to Courtney's cheek, stopping just shy of touching
skin. "I'm not talking about Whitney." With that said, she pushed off from
the car and turned to walk away. She didn't make more than a few steps
before her arm was grabbed forcefully.
Courtney was clearly rattled as she spun Missy around to face her. "I really
don't like you."
"No, really?" Missy replied sarcastically. "Believe me, princess, it's
Abruptly, Courtney lunged forward and kissed her -- not soft or tentative in
the slightest but surprisingly enough to cause a sudden flare in Missy's
groin. Fucking hormones.
They were both breathing hard by the time the kiss ended and Missy couldn't
help but stare at the blonde's all too prominent chest. She licked her lips.
"Get your things from the locker room and meet me back here."
Watching Courtney sprint off, dark eyes rooted on an exceptionally pert
retreating ass, Missy leaned against the car for support and tried to get
her breathing back under control. This was so fucked-up. She was crushing on
Torrance and Courtney was so obviously wrapped up in Whitney -- no matter
how much Courtney denied it -- and here they were, together.
She didn't have time to think on it further because Courtney was back, gym
bag over her shoulder, her skin flushed. She looked beautiful, her long
blonde hair loose and swept to one side. "Well?"
Missy snapped out of her haze and opened the passenger door for Courtney
before jumping into the driver's seat. "My parents are at some benefit in
the city. They won't be back 'til late, and Cliff's gonna be at Tor's,"
Missy said as she drove away from the school, so aware of the heat between
her thighs that she had no interest in observing the speed limit. "We'll
have the place to ourselves. You sure about this? I mean two minutes ago . .
." She glanced at Courtney to gauge her reaction.
"Just drive." Courtney's hand slipped over Missy's thigh, perfect nails
scoring up sensitive skin.
"Driving kinda requires concentration, y'know? Plus, I really don't wanna
end up wrapped around a mail box," Missy said but she didn't do anything to
remove that roving hand.
She was almost relieved when she swung the car into the driveway a few
minutes later. The house was empty, thank God, and she led the way up to her
bedroom. Courtney immediately flung herself on the double bed, staring at
"You want something to eat or drink or. . . not," she trailed off as
Courtney rose up onto her knees. Missy watched with half-lidded eyes as
Courtney reached for the hem of her sports top, pulling it up and over her
head before casting it aside. It snagged on the bookcase for a second before
falling carelessly onto the carpet.
Missy wet her lips and kicked the door shut with her heel. Next off were
Courtney's shorts and sneakers, leaving her in only her underwear. The
blonde smiled as she reached behind and unhooked her bra, slowly peeling the
lacy fabric away and letting it drop to the floor.
It wasn't the first time Missy had seen another girl's breasts outside of
the locker room. Back in LA, she'd had a friend, sort of a fuck buddy, and
it was something they'd fallen into like habit. But this was different. The
animosity between the two girls made it exciting somehow.
A haphazard trail of discarded clothing marked Missy's approach, surely
setting a new world speed record for getting down to her underwear.
She made no delay in curling her hand around Courtney's neck and tugging her
closer, meeting her lips and tongue with equal heat. Missy groaned as
Courtney's hands grappled with her bra, breaking the kiss briefly to fling
the garment away. They both shuddered as their flushed skin made contact
again without the barrier of clothing.
Still stealing kisses, Courtney pulled Missy down onto the bed with her,
hands splayed out across Missy's back, roaming a restless path. They settled
finally on the elasticated waistband of Missy's underwear. In one quick
motion, Courtney tugged, divesting Missy of her panties. Moments later, they
were kicked off onto the floor.
Courtney made no hesitation in slipping a hand between their bodies, fingers
finding their target immediately. She slid one digit into the slick channel,
earning a gasp of pleasure from Missy, quickly followed by a second when
Courtney added another finger, building a steady rhythm as Missy moved with
her. As her fingers thrust, Courtney swept an indelicate thumb over the
hardened bundle of nerves, making Missy jerk suddenly.
"Fuck," the dark haired girl muttered, hips rotating and grinding brazenly
against Courtney's hand. She leaned down, covering Courtney's lips roughly
with her own. Teeth and lips collided as Courtney eagerly opened her mouth
to the sweep of Missy's tongue.
Her own hands found the stiff peaks of the blonde's nipples, twisting and
rolling, making Courtney moan into the kiss.
And all Missy could think about was Torrance. Would her skin be this soft
and silky? What unique sounds would she make? Would she be instinctive or
nervous? Would she. . .?
It wasn't long before those thoughts, twinned with the upward curl of
Courtney's fingertips and the insistent press of a thumb against her
clitoris, pushed Missy over the edge.
She lurched forward as she rode the climax, open mouth pressing into the
other girl's shoulder to smother the name that rose in her throat, the tip
of her tongue tasting salt and the sweetness of perfumed skin. A tentative
hand fluttered over the base of her spine, almost in a soothing motion, and
Missy drew back finally to look into Courtney's eyes.
They smiled at each other slowly, with only the barest hint of bashfulness.
They had a kind of understanding.
Missy slid one hand into Courtney's hair. It was near enough to the shade of
Torrance's that she could pretend.
Because pretending was as near as either of them would get to the real