Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12496984.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Kill_la_Kill
  Relationship:
      Mankanshoku_Mako/Matoi_Ryuuko
  Character:
      Mankanshoku_Mako, Matoi_Ryuuko
  Additional Tags:
      Established_Relationship, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without
      Plot, Oral_Sex, Vaginal_Fingering, Begging, Multiple_Orgasms
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-11-01 Words: 6147
****** Spontaneous ******
by tastewithouttalent
Summary
     "Ryuko doesn’t back down from a challenge, doesn’t give in to
     exhaustion and give up and go home; she grits her teeth, and digs in
     her heels, and stands her ground against all comers. And of course,
     this is all rendered absolutely useless when compared to her
     girlfriend’s stamina." Ryuko tests her determination against Mako's
     unswerving enthusiasm and finds them both to be winners.
Ryuko has always thought of herself as a tough girl.
It kind of goes with the revenge territory, she thinks. If she’s going to take
on an epic quest to find her father’s murderer and avenge his death at her own
determined hand, she can hardly balk and collapse at the first sign of
struggle. She’s built up her strength, and perfected her persona, and when it
comes down to it she thinks she’s worth at least even odds against anyone, up
to and most definitely including the great Kiryuin Satsuki. Ryuko doesn’t back
down from a challenge, doesn’t give in to exhaustion and give up and go home;
she grits her teeth, and digs in her heels, and stands her ground against all
comers.
And of course, this is all rendered absolutely useless when compared to her
girlfriend’s stamina.
“Oh,” Mako wails, not for the first time; her voice has been climbing its
natural register as if scaling a ladder for what Ryuko would bet has been a
solid hour. Ryuko isn’t sure how she is even able to hear the sounds Mako is
making; by any rights they ought to be impossible for human ears to make out.
Maybe she has the life fibers to thank for her continued ability to piece
together the other girl’s words; she’s not sure at present if that’s a blessing
or a curse. “Oh, oh, oh!” Mako’s head is tipped back as far as it will go, her
hair spilling into a halo over the pillow underneath her; her legs are spread
wide, her heels bracing against the mattress beneath the pair of them while her
knees cant in as if to grant some level of modesty to the frantic speed of the
fingers she has pressing hard against her clit. “Ryuko-chan, don’t stop, I’m
close.”
“I’m not stopping,” Ryuko protests; but she does reach out with her free hand
to brace herself against Mako’s tipped-in knee just to give herself something
to push against to counterbalance the press of the paired fingers she has
thrusting hard into the other girl. “Jesus, don’t you ever get tired?”
Mako’s head pops up without any perceptible pause between her full-throated
wail of pleasure and the wide-eyed attention she turns on Ryuko. “Nope!” she
says. “I could do this all day!” Her gaze flickers down over Ryuko, taking in
the angle of the other girl’s hunched shoulders and, Ryuko can only assume, the
exhaustion lining every part of her expression; and then she moves as quickly
as she lifted her head to push up on her elbow and pull back and away from
Ryuko’s touch. Ryuko is left stalled mid-rhythm, slick fingers still pressed
together and hovering in the air between Mako’s knees; Mako doesn’t even
hesitate in sitting up entirely and letting her knees fall wide over the sheets
of the bed.
“Do you want to come again?” she asks, pulling her hand away from her work on
herself so she can reach out to clasp her hold around Ryuko’s stalled-still
hand as if that was her intent all along. “It’s been a little while. I could
take a break and get you off instead!”
Ryuko huffs an exhale that sounds a little bit like exasperation and a little
bit like a half-formed laugh. She’s not sure which side she’s leaning towards
even after she hears the sound in her own ears. “I already came once,” she
protests, rocking back over her heels and letting her hand relax into Mako’s
hold. “I’m fine, really.”
“Only once,” Mako corrects her, her eyes wide and expression clear of even the
faintest hint of sarcasm. “While you’ve gotten me off…” she pauses, looking
down and frowning as she counts on the fingers of her free hand as her lips
move silently. Ryuko watches her go through all five fingers, watches Mako’s
forehead crease on consideration as she comes to the end; and watches her lift
her head and wave her hand as if she’s sweeping aside the subject physically.
“A lot of times!”
“A lot of times,” Ryuko says. There’s a little bit of a bite on the words -
- it’s hard to strip the edge from her throat when her shoulder and arm are
aching as badly as they are -- but it’s very hard to hold to even minimal
irritation when Mako is blinking those big brown eyes up at her as if she’s
seeing Ryuko for the first time and just as star-struck by affection now as she
was then. Ryuko heaves a sigh and shrugs to dismiss the subject. “Whatever. I
still owe you at least one more, I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied.”
Mako shakes her head with enough force to flip her hair in a wave around her
face. “It’s not me we’re worrying about here!” she says, and she draws her hand
free of Ryuko’s without waiting for the other girl to react, even if Ryuko knew
what it is she might offer in reply to this. “We’re talking about you!” and she
reaches out to brace both hands at Ryuko’s shoulders and pushes hard to urge
the other girl backwards. Ryuko likes to think she’d be able to shrug off
Mako’s force if she were on her feet, and well-rested, and expecting it; but
none of these are true at the moment, and in actual fact what ends up happening
is she topples backwards with a yelp that skips up right into the range of
undignified as she falls back with her girlfriend right on top of her. Mako
doesn’t let go of Ryuko’s shoulders even as they go down, which results in them
landing with the full weight of Mako solidly atop Ryuko, and she’s not all that
large of a girl but she has enough mass to blow the wind out of Ryuko in a huff
of an exhale that completely undoes whatever lingering remnants of composure
she might have had left to her. Ryuko is left on her back across the bed,
sprawling over the sheets and blinking up at the ceiling, while over her Mako
bounces up with her usual interminable enthusiasm and no sign at all of feeling
the effects of their fall.
“I’m going to take care of this,” Mako says, with so much focus in her tone and
expression that Ryuko has no doubt at all of her ability to follow through on
what honestly sounds more like a threat than the promise it probably ought to
seem. “You just lie right there and Mako will look after you!”
“Okay,” Ryuko says. She might put up more protest in other circumstances -
- lying still isn’t exactly her style, even when it’s for such a good cause -
- but she’s still a little winded from Mako’s reckless leap a moment before,
and now that she’s on her back it’s hard to ignore how good the support of the
mattress feels under her aching shoulder. Mako ducks her head into agreement so
aggressive it sends her hair sweeping like a wave in front of her face; and
then she’s sliding back over the bed, working backwards over her knees to
settle herself between the angle of Ryuko’s legs, and Ryuko is left to tip her
chin down so she can try to make an ill-informed judgment about what Mako is
doing. It ought to be an easy task -- there’s a somewhat limited number of
options, given the other girl’s stated intent -- but Ryuko has learned that
there are some things one should never take for granted with Mako, and those
things drastically increase in number when it comes to the bedroom. Mako might
be about to come out with some new toy of improbable size or unnatural design,
or maybe she’ll produce a bottle of chocolate sauce or whipped cream from some
hiding spot Ryuko can’t guess at, given the sheer amount of skin the other girl
currently has on display. Ryuko keeps an eye on her all the same, feeling her
shoulders tense with uncertainty as her mind skips from one unlikely conclusion
to the next; until, finally, when Mako says, “I’m going to go down on you!”
Ryuko is almost more relieved than anything else at the sheer simplicity of the
decision.
“I told you,” she says, attempting protest even knowing how weak the words
sound even to her own ears with all the strength stripped from them by the
unexpectedly normal approach Mako has apparently taken to getting her
girlfriend off. “You really don’t have to do anything, I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you to be fine,” Mako says without so much as a flicker in the
bright-eyed cheer glowing in her face. “I want you to be great.” She says it
with such complete sincerity that Ryuko can’t even find the voice to muster an
argument to that; and then she smiles, and her whole face dimples into delight
so bright that Ryuko loses her grasp on her breathing entirely, as if the sun
has suddenly appeared inside the shut-door space of her bedroom.
“Just like me!” Mako says, chirping over the words like she doesn’t notice the
way Ryuko is gaping shock up at her; and then she ducks her head and drops to
sprawl across the sheets with the same abandon she has used with every other
motion she has taken so far. Ryuko wonders what it would take to strip even the
leading edge off Mako’s energy. Maybe six meals in a day, or twice that many
orgasms. Maybe both together. It would certainly require more physical and
mental stamina than Ryuko has in her, that’s for sure; and then Mako’s hands
are pressing against the inside of Ryuko’s knees, and her palms are sliding
gently up the inside line of the other girl’s thighs, and Ryuko is huffing an
exhale of far more heat than she intended to offer just from the friction of
Mako’s hands on her.
“Ohh,” Mako hums, sounding bright and delighted as she lifts her gaze to blink
owlishly at Ryuko at the other end of the bed. “Does that feel good?” She draws
her hands down by an inch to slide them back up again; Ryuko can feel the soft
heat of the other girl’s palms like electricity running up her thighs,
prickling across her body to pool low down in the depth of her belly and heat
the flare of blood under her skin. “It does, doesn’t it? You’re getting all
pink and shaky.”
Ryuko groans protest in the back of her throat and lifts her arm to cover the
color she can feel rising to stain her cheeks. “Shut up, don’t say that.”
“But you are.” Mako’s hands are still continuing their wanderings; Ryuko can
feel herself flushing warmer in spite of herself. She wonders if Mako can tell
that too, if the heat under her skin is as clear to the other girl’s gaze as it
feels to her. “It’s nice, I like it!”
“Oh good,” Ryuko says from under her arm. “At least one of us does.” The words
come out with a little more of a bite than she intended to give them -- it’s
the strain in her chest as much as the truth of irritation snapping at her
tongue -- but Mako doesn’t so much as hesitate in the upward slide of her
hands.
“This’ll be fun!” she insists, as her hands push up to brace against the
highest angle of Ryuko’s thighs and press to urge the other girl’s legs apart.
Ryuko grimaces at the motion -- it’s always at least a little bit embarrassing,
to have herself laid so open to view while Mako is precisely at eye level with
her -- but Mako’s humming before Ryuko can put voice to any more acerbic
protest, and the heat of the other girl’s exhale against her skin is enough to
shudder in Ryuko’s legs and scatter her attention entirely away from the self-
consciousness she was veering towards.
“Just relax,” Mako suggests, still swinging the words up towards the
exclamation point she prefers instead of the calmer tone of a period. “You
don’t need to be so tense!” Ryuko knows that -- it’s obvious, there’s no need
to be so jumpy just because Mako is leaning between her thighs -- but she can
no more help the tension straining along her spine than she can calm the
adrenaline-rush of her heart pounding in her chest. There’s no real protest she
can give: after all, Mako’s right, and the fact that Ryuko has no chance at all
of doing as she suggests is as much a fixed point as the cheer in Mako’s voice.
So Ryuko just sighs what she knows as resignation and hopes passes for
surrender, and presses her arm closer over her embarrassment-flushed face as
she tries not to think too much about the picture she’s making for Mako.
Mako doesn’t say anything else. Ryuko isn’t sure if that’s a function of
distraction or, judging from the way the other girl’s touch is running up over
the tremor of her thighs, perhaps overt appreciation; but it’s easier to catch
her breath in the quiet, easier to think about something other than the heat of
Mako’s gaze on her in silence. Ryuko’s breathing eases, some of the tension in
her chest gives way; and it’s just as she’s beginning to collect herself into
calm, just as she thinks she might actually be able to achieve the demanded
relaxation, that Mako ducks in to huff the heat of an exhale just against her.
Ryuko’s whole body tenses, every fiber of her being seizing tight on the sudden
rush of sensation that comes with Mako’s breath; and down against her hips,
where she’s nestled between Ryuko’s thighs, Mako purrs a sound that dips itself
down into a heat Ryuko has never heard from the other girl’s lips before.
“You’re so stressed,” Mako says; and her hands slide up, her fingers dragging
out and over Ryuko to curl against the span of the other girl’s hips to brace
them both in place together. Mako’s hands are small, her fingers delicate and
soft without any of the calluses or scars that so mark Ryuko’s own knuckles and
palms; but her grip is stronger than it seems it might be, her hold firm and
unflinching as her thumbs fit into the dip of Ryuko’s hipbones. Mako’s arms
flex, her full strength bears down to hold Ryuko steady; and then she leans in,
and her lips touch against Ryuko’s body, and Ryuko’s throat opens up on a moan
she can no more restrain than she can hold back the desperate reach of her
hands coming out to brace against Mako’s head.
It’s not that it’s that much sensation. Mako has barely even moved yet; right
now it’s just the heat of her lips, the weight of her mouth pressing close
against Ryuko’s clit before her. But the warmth is enough, the pressure of
Mako’s mouth touching her enough to burn through Ryuko’s blood as if she’s
being infused with a dozen life fibers at once; and then Mako hums a note,
another one of those low, dark noises in the back of her throat, and Ryuko
quivers like a struck bell even before Mako opens her lips to trail her tongue
in and against Ryuko’s body. The friction slides up against Ryuko, the heat of
Mako’s touch drags wet and slick against her, and her fingers tighten in Mako’s
hair, her grip twisting and rumpling into the smooth strands as Mako presses
closer and falls into the beginnings of a rhythm to her movement.
Mako is nothing if not thorough. Ryuko has never known anyone else to commit so
wholeheartedly to whatever it is they are doing in the moment, and except for
food and sleep there are few things that can hold Mako’s attention as entirely
as sex. She’ll beg for orgasms, will plead for a fourth and fifth as if its the
first one, as if Ryuko hasn’t been working her over for a half hour; and she’ll
turn that same attention on Ryuko without missing a beat. She’s learned what
Ryuko likes, has memorized the other girl’s sexual preferences as entirely as
she’s learned her style in clothing and jewelry, and if Mako’s birthday
presents are always uncannily apt it’s nothing on her technique in bed. She’s
slow in her movements, deliberate and focused in the perfect opposite of the
way she prefers it herself, with the rough force of Ryuko’s fingers driving
into her at the pace somewhat faster than humanly possible; but it’s this that
Ryuko can feel undoing her, can feel tensing in her thighs and flushing at her
nipples and pooling low and heavy and certain in the depths of her abdomen. Her
legs are drawing taut under Mako’s hold, she can feel the shudder in them
trying to tighten and give away the heat stirring under her skin, but Mako
isn’t stopping, isn’t even hesitating in the smooth drag of her tongue as she
licks up over Ryuko as if she’s savouring the taste of her. The thought makes
Ryuko’s cheeks flush, burns her with the beginnings of that same self-
consciousness that always catches her when Mako isn’t wholly distracted from
paying attention to her; but it can’t get traction on her focus, not as she is
and not when she has Mako pressing her lips close against Ryuko’s clit and
sucking a surge of friction out into the other girl’s blood. Ryuko’s shoulders
flex, her fingers clutch and pull harder at Mako’s hair than she intended, but
Mako doesn’t hiss hurt as Ryuko is always afraid she will. She just purrs
again, humming that note of satisfaction that runs straight to fire in Ryuko’s
blood with the way they’re positioned, and then she lifts her head to look up
and blink wide-eyed heat at Ryuko in front of her.
“Oh wow,” she sighs, sounding so utterly lovestruck that Ryuko almost doesn’t
mind that the tone is directed at her, that the obvious appreciation in Mako’s
gaze is turned on the expanse of bare skin she has on display. “You’re
so pretty.”
Ryuko squeezes her eyes shut, grimacing against the force of those words and
that complete, unflinching sincerity in Mako’s tone. “Mako.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mako says, still sounding perfectly composed even as she ducks
her head again to resume her efforts. “It’s still true, though!”
“Don’t you have better things to do with your mouth?” Ryuko suggests unsubtly;
and then Mako presses her lips to Ryuko’s body once more, and Ryuko shudders in
complete disregard of the self-conscious tension that so gripped her under the
force of Mako’s gaze. Her lashes flutter, her back arches; and this time, when
her hands pull at Mako’s hair to hold the other girl close against her, it’s
with a far different goal than just keeping her too-talkative mouth occupied.
Mako is very good at what she does. Ryuko can appreciate that, for the first
few seconds, as her breathing sticks in her chest with every drag of Mako’s
tongue; as her knees tremble, caught between the desire to angle wider to
encourage more friction or tip in to cling to what she’s currently receiving.
There’s a level of detail to it, some kind of natural rhythm to the drag of
Mako’s tongue, to the press of her lips, to the occasional electrifying drag of
her teeth; Ryuko could almost take notes for herself, if she weren’t so utterly
distracted by the experience of it. But every time she tries to recall some
detail of Mako’s motion Mako makes a low sound in the back of her throat, or
slides her tongue up in some long, drawn-out rush of friction, and Ryuko’s
focus gives way to a moan she can’t hope to restrain as her focus disintegrates
in time with the spike of heat in her veins. Mako is taking her time, lingering
over the fit of her lips and the heat of Ryuko under her tongue without any
indication of haste in her actions; but Ryuko can feel herself tightening all
the same, can feel the knot of want low in her belly curling into a fist of
anticipation bright and hot enough to be nearly painful with the ache for more,
for more friction and more heat and more--
“Mako,” Ryuko groans, and her voice is dropping off low in her chest but she
doesn’t care, she doesn’t even mind how throaty and hot she sounds for the
intensity of her focus as the whole of her world narrows in to the tremor in
her thighs, to the knot in her belly, to the heat of Mako’s mouth pressing
close against her. Her fingers are twisting tighter -- it must be painful for
Mako, but the other girl doesn’t so much as hesitate in her motion -- and Ryuko
can feel her whole body arching up off the bed, as if the strain rising against
her spine is trying to lift her right off the support of the mattress beneath
her. Her breathing is straining, her nipples are aching, the whole of her body
feels like it’s clinging to some impossible tension; and then Mako’s lips press
tight, Mako’s tongue slides in and over her, and Ryuko can feel every muscle in
her body spasm at once with the sudden relief that hits her. Her fingers are
shaking, her legs are quivering, tensing and easing in time with the waves of
sensation rushing through her; and Mako is still leaning over her, still
pressing her lips close to the throb of satisfied heat radiating out from
Ryuko’s hips as Mako works her through the relief of her orgasm. Ryuko jolts
with each fresh surge of heat, feels each one breaking over her like a separate
wave of sensation tingling up the whole length of her legs and sparking
electric and hot at the back of her head; and then finally the force of them
eases, and Mako slows her movement, and Ryuko shuts her eyes and shudders
through an exhale as she loosens her hold in Mako’s hair.
She’d like to lie right where she is for a moment, would like to take the time
to collect herself back from the distant warmth of satisfaction that has swept
over her; but Mako’s hands tighten at her hips, and Mako’s head comes up, and:
“Ryuko-chan!” Mako chirps, with all the same breathless enthusiasm she always
displays. “How was that?”
“Ah,” Ryuko says, and lifts a hand from Mako’s hair to rub across her own face,
to try to pull herself back to coherency from whatever far-off daze she’s
fallen into. Her legs are aching, her thighs are still a little shaky from the
strain of her climb to pleasure; her voice sounds strange in her chest, like
it’s still carrying the resonance of heat on it. She clears her throat in an
attempt to level it but she doubts it’s particularly successful. “Good.”
Mako claps her hands together. “I’m so glad!” she says; and then she’s throwing
herself forward, reaching out to clasp her hands at Ryuko’s head and letting
her full weight land solidly atop the other girl. Ryuko loses her breath with
the impact, her exhale gusting out of her with all the elegance that can be
contained by the evocative “Oof” that follows Mako’s hip landing hard against
her stomach; but Mako is shutting her eyes and pursing her lips, and neither a
lack of air nor a fast-forming bruise is going to keep Ryuko from that
suggested kiss. She reaches up to smooth Mako’s hair back from her face first,
moving her hands with care to keep from accidentally tugging at one of the
knots she’s worked into the other girl’s hair; but then she has Mako braced
carefully between her palms, and she can lift her head to press her mouth
against Mako’s patiently-waiting lips. Mako’s mouth is warm against hers, her
lips softening out of the tension of expectation as fast as Ryuko touches them,
and she parts them as quickly, offering the heat of her mouth for Ryuko’s
taking without any prompting at all. Ryuko tastes the inside of Mako’s mouth,
touches against the soft heat of the other girl’s tongue; Mako tastes sweet,
with a heavy richness that Ryuko can’t quite place, that she can’t quite draw
away from. She lingers instead, trying to track down the taste at Mako’s lips,
against Mako’s tongue; and then she draws back to catch a breath, and Mako
sucks in a deep inhale and says, “Can you taste yourself?” with so much casual
unconcern that it takes Ryuko a moment to make sense of her words. They hit the
harder for the delay once she does -- Ryuko can feel her whole face glowing to
crimson in the span of a few brief seconds as she realizes -- but she sets her
jaw against it, and braces her shoulders to force herself back to composure
before Mako notices and calls her out on it.
“Yeah,” Ryuko says, her voice still grating down over that accidental depth;
and she’s leaning back in to resume kissing Mako, as much as a distraction
technique as anything else. She’s trying to hold the other girl’s attention, to
keep Mako from noticing the self-conscious flush Ryuko can feel burning all
across her cheeks; but Mako doesn’t need any more persuading to give in to this
than she ever does. She whimpers a sound of pleased abandon, and throws her
arms around Ryuko’s neck; and the next thing Ryuko knows she’s being pulled
sideways and turning in and over to push Mako back down to the bed. She’s not
entirely sure how this happens -- it’s often difficult to pinpoint the cause of
shifts like this, when Mako is involved -- but the fact remains that in a very
few seconds Ryuko’s blush has faded over entirely to a flush of warmth instead
of the uncomfortable burn that was there before, and that where she was lying
languid and content against the sheets she’s now tipped in over Mako beneath
her, with one knee slid up high between the other girl’s thighs and a hand
bracing her against the sheets so she can slide the other up against the sharp
curve of Mako’s waist, can fit her fingers to the silk-soft of the other girl’s
skin before drawing up to follow the line of her body to the curve of her
breasts. Mako arches up into Ryuko’s touch as soon as the other girl touches
her, tightening her hold on Ryuko’s shoulders and parting her lips into a moan
of encouragement against Ryuko’s overhot breathing; and Ryuko can’t resist the
suggestion of that, even with her entire body achy and exhausted by her own
pleasure and Mako’s alike.
“You’re incredible,” she says, the words something between frustration and awe.
“Aren’t you ready to be done yet?”
“One more,” Mako begs. When she arches against the bed Ryuko can feel the hard
point of the other girl’s nipple pressing against her palm like it’s begging
for the friction of her touch. “Please, just one more!”
“You always say that,” Ryuko tells her; but she’s smiling, she can’t help it,
and when she slides her hand down it’s only to dip into the soft between Mako’s
breasts, to trail her fingers against the give of the other girl’s cleavage
before wandering down to the soft of her stomach and the flutter of heat just
under her skin. Ryuko angles her fingers down, braces her hand atop Mako’s
hips; and then stops, looking up to frown intensity at Mako’s half-lidded eyes
and breathless-parted lips. “This really is the last one, okay?”
Mako nods in a rush. “Yes, yes, okay!” she agrees. Ryuko isn’t entirely sure
how truthful that promise is -- even if Mako means it in the moment, there’s no
certainty she won’t be pleading for more in a matter of minutes -- but there’s
nothing but clear honesty in Mako’s wide brown eyes, and it’s hardly as if
Ryuko was going to refuse to continue in any case. She heaves a sigh, letting
her exhaustion give itself voice as resignation in her throat, and then she
slides her hand down and lets her fingers press against Mako’s entrance.
Mako’s reaction is immediate. Ryuko has never been able to decide if Mako
really does experience the sensation as intensely as she seems to; it seems
impossible, that she should be so undone so immediately just by the press of
Ryuko’s fingers pushing up and into her. But there’s no question of her
enthusiasm, and no possibility of deception in the full-body tremors that Ryuko
works her to; so Ryuko takes Mako’s response as entirely sincere, and lets her
mouth curl onto a smile as satisfied by the other’s reaction as she was by her
own pleasure. Mako’s letting her hand drop from Ryuko’s shoulder, is reaching
up to brace her palm flat at the wall at the top of the bed; and she’s talking,
babbling, spilling heat past her lips in a rapidfire rush of encouragement that
comes so fast as to be all but nonsensical.
“Yes,” is the greatest part of it, “Yes Ryuko god good right there ah Ryuko-
chan please don’t stop don’t please yes yes--” over and over, a cascade of
words as if Ryuko’s touch has unlocked whatever measure of self-restraint Mako
usually keeps on herself to leave her babbling heat in an ever-rising pitch of
sound. Ryuko leans harder against her hand at the bed beneath them, bracing
herself in place to grant extra force to her movement, and when she starts to
move harder Mako’s whole body curves in answer, a wave of tension rippling
through her from the angle of her shoulders down to the curl of her toes at the
end of the bed. Her head tips back, her throat strains on a full-body moan; and
Ryuko moves faster, her tired body urged to greater speed more by Mako’s
response than by any kind of rational consideration. She has to brace her feet
against the sheets, has to lean in hard to keep her knees in place; but beneath
her Mako is trembling, is shaking through the whole of her body as she curves
beneath Ryuko, as she arches with convulsive tremors of heat at the stroke of
the other girl’s hand, and Ryuko isn’t about to stop with Mako’s desperate
pleas urging her on. She makes a fist at the sheets beneath them, catches her
breath hard over the pound of her heart in her chest, and when she moves it’s
only to twist her hand, to angle her thumb up and over so she can press hard
against Mako’s clit. That gets her a groan from Mako’s throat and brings the
whole of the other girl’s body cresting up into a long shudder of tension; and
Ryuko resumes her motion, stroking as fast with her fingers as she can manage
to stir heat within the other girl while she keeps the steadying weight of her
thumb pressing hard to Mako’s clit.
It’s impossible to estimate time. Ryuko can’t catch her breath; her whole body
is shaking with the effort required for this kind of stamina, for this kind of
concerted effort. But Mako is arching under her, pleading with every breath
whether coherently or otherwise, and the thought of stopping for anything less
than an entire exhausted collapse never crosses Ryuko’s mind. She watches Mako
instead, fixing her attention to the color staining the other girl’s cheeks,
and the curve of her back and the high lift of her breasts, and when she speaks
it’s to urge her on, to spur Mako to greater heights instead of soothing back
the strain building in her body. “Yes,” Ryuko says, and “Like that,”
encouragement hot on her lips and taut in her throat. “You look so good, Mako,
keep going, I want to see you come, Mako, just like this, just for me”; and
Mako’s fingers clutch, and Mako’s toes curl, and Ryuko can see the crest of
pleasure wash Mako’s expression out to slack relief a moment before the heat of
it jolts through the other girl’s body like an electrical shock. Mako’s
shouting, wailing, letting each surge of sensation through her take shape at
her lips as she shudders around the slide of Ryuko’s fingers into her; and
Ryuko pants for air, and blinks herself to clarity, and drinks it in: the feel
of Mako tightening against her fingers, the heat of satisfaction glowing so
bright across Mako’s face, the sound of her voice cracking and breaking over
those high notes of pleasure. It’s perfect, beautiful, incandescent in a way
that sweeps aside even Ryuko’s exhaustion, until even when she feels the strain
reform itself in her body all she can do is duck her head, and sigh relief, and
let herself go slack with the satisfaction of it.
Ryuko isn’t sure how long she stays like that. Her thoughts are hazy, her body
is aching; everything is warm and sticky and heavy with satisfaction until it’s
hard to focus on anything except the present breath, the present heartbeat. She
just breathes, slow and deeply as she collects herself, as she appreciates the
pause, however brief, in Mako’s demands; and it’s then that Mako’s breathing
drags into the sound of a snore, and Ryuko jerks her head up in the first shock
of realization.
Mako is still lying right where she was a moment ago; she has both knees angled
open and, at present, one arm thrown wide to occupy what space of the bed she
wasn’t already filling. Her cheeks are still flushed, her skin still warm with
sweat from their recent exertions; and her head is turned to the side, her eyes
are shut, and her mouth is open in the most convincing display of sleep Ryuko
has ever seen. Ryuko gapes at her for a moment, rationality refusing to believe
that Mako could possibly fall asleep so quickly, while Ryuko hasn’t yet eased
her fingers free of the heat of the other girl’s body; but Mako doesn’t stir
under the force of Ryuko’s attention, there’s not so much as a stutter of self-
consciousness in the slow rhythm of her breathing. Ryuko stares at her for long
moments, just in case Mako decides she’s had enough of pretending; but there’s
no shift in the other girl’s behavior, no indication at all that she’s anything
but truly and completely asleep.
“Mako,” Ryuko tries; speaking softly, in case Mako really is unconscious as she
appears to be. There’s no response, not so much as a flicker of an eyelash or
the tug of a smile. “You’re kidding me.” Ryuko rocks back over her knees and
braces a hand against Mako’s hip to steady herself as she draws her touch back
and out of the other girl; but Mako barely stirs, only shifting against the bed
by a half-inch as her knees angle in. Ryuko stares at her for another span of
breaths, wondering if Mako might be a much better actress than Ryuko has ever
given her credit for; and finally she huffs a breath as much a laugh as
resignation, and leans in over her girlfriend’s sleeping form to press a
careful kiss to the corner of her mouth.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she murmurs, mostly for herself rather than for
Mako’s apparently genuine sleep. “Sweet dreams, I guess.”
Ryuko takes her time in the shower; there’s a pleasure to rinsing off the salt-
sweat of her efforts as much as to letting the heat of the steam around her
soak into aching muscles and strip the strain of overwork into the dull,
almost-pleasant ache of past exertion. She makes no effort to hurry through the
process of washing, or drying off, or brushing her hair; but even after almost
a half-hour of lingering in the bathroom Mako is still right where Ryuko left
her when she returns to the bedroom. She’s made some minimal concession to
comfort, primarily in the form of turning over onto her side and drawing her
arms in towards her chest; but otherwise she remains unchanged, still warm and
flushed and breathing the slow, deep rhythm of sleep. Ryuko stands in the
doorway for a moment gazing at her, still not completely sure if Mako is truly
asleep or not; and then she smiles, and steps inside, and lets the door swing
shut behind her as she comes in to claim the other half of the bed so she can
curl in and fit herself against the curve of Mako’s shoulders and the angle of
her knees.
Regardless of Mako’s sincerity, Ryuko thinks she’s earned herself the luxury of
a nap.
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