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words-and-yearning · 3 months ago

Text

Obsessed

OF!Mel x Special Viewer Sevika

Content: modern AU; OnlyFans model Mel; Sevika is a special patron; I kinda proofread this but I kinda didn't

CW: smut, video sex, video recording sex, slight dubious consent towards the end, strap use

Special Viewer Sevika who doesn't usually like to pay for sexual attention, she's used to getting it for free. But after browsing through Twitter porn accounts, she couldn't help but be captivated by a beautiful dark-skinned model with gold accented tattoos. Her three second videos on the site weren't enough, Sevika needed more. One day, she bit the bullet and downloaded OF, finding and following the model immediately.

OF Mel who was kicked out at a young age, so had to turn somewhere for a steady income. She hated the idea of people touching her. Looking, however, was a different story. She's been in the game for years now. She's adapted to many trends and spikes and falls within the industry. There is no part of her that feels ashamed for her work, she's in her bag.

Special Viewer Sevika who discovered the special patron feature on Mel's page. The package includes one on one video calls with Mel, monthly specially wrapped packages, and exclusive videos made just for the patron. Against her better judgement, she purchases the package.

OF Mel who immediately notices a new special patron on her page: Sev368. She pays no mind at first, thinking this client is going to be like everyone else.

Special Viewer Sevika who, after months of subscribing as a special patron, has finally decided to request a private video call.

OF Mel who didn't expect someone like Sevika to appear on the video call.

"Oh wow", Mel gasps.

"Is there a problem?" despite Sevika's stoic expression, she feels completely embarrassed by the nature of this interaction. One wrong word out of the model's mouth may cause Sevika to end the call.

"Uh...n-no! Not at all, it's just...", Mel isn't the one to stammer, especially when it comes to chatting with her clients. But the fact that a woman with this kind of beauty is willing to PAY to see her naked makes her brain reboot. "...I don't really get people like you as a patron."

Sevika hums, ignoring the way her heart drops at Mel's words. "So how does this work?"

Suddenly, Mel remembers her well-practiced routine. "Right, so (clears throat) I'll dance for you and--"

"I'm not really into dancing."

"Okay...", Mel has never had a client...decline...dancing? "Well, what are you into?"

The women sit in silence while Sevika thinks. "Get on the floor."

Mel's cam is perched high on a ring light system, allowing the viewer a full body view of Mel. Following Sevika's orders, she removes her phone from the ring light and sets herself up on the floor, tucking her feet under her ass. She tilts her head slightly to the side, waiting for Sevika's next command.

"Keep the camera there and lay down on your back."

Mel, again, does as she's told.

"You gotta spread your legs, doll."

Mel opens her legs in front of the camera, revealing her now soaked panties. This feeling confuses her. Her job allows her to be in control her own content and body. So, why is she allowing this random client to dictate her every move? Moreover, why is she enjoying it?

While Sevika still feels mild embarrassment over the situation she found herself that the full view of Mel's drenched privates has done wonders for her confidence.

"You wet for me, baby?"

"Surprisingly, yes", Sevika can hear the smile in Mel's voice. The model reaches to touch herself through her panties, moaning loudly to purposely arouse Sevika.

It works. "It's okay, doll. Lemme see you play with yourself."

Mel slips off her soaked underwear, making a show out of teasing herself before giving in to the pleasure. Sevika watches as manicured nails roughly rubs at a clit she wishes she were touching.

OF Mel who spends more time with Sevika than any other patron. She will clear out and cancel previously established appointments as to not miss a virtual date with the beautiful butch. One day, she gives in to her deepest desire and dm's Sevika her personal phone number.

Special Viewer Sevika who eagerly saves Mel's number into her phone, but waits 24 hours before calling her. Don't wanna seem desperate, you know?

She totally is.

"I'm fucking obsessed with you, doll", Sevika whispers one day over a video call with her model. Deciding that she makes enough money from her other patrons, she completely waived Sevika's charge for video calls. "Call it a special client discount", she winked. Now Sevika's watching as Mel takes an 8-inch silicone while stroking her clit with a vibrator. Mel is too overwhelmed to answer her lover.

“I wanna see you baby. In person,” a private thought that Sevika lets slip through her teeth.

Mel ceases her stroking to smile at the camera. The smile of a woman who fucked herself dumb for an hour straight with the toys bought by her favorite patron. “I would love that.”

OF Mel and Special Viewer Sevika who live more than a thousand miles apart from one another. After days of planning, they decide to meet in the middle in a bustling city. Sevika purchases the plane tickets while Mel plans a four day itinerary in the city. “If we’re going to see each other, why not make it an adventure.”

Special Viewer Sevika who realizes that her obsession with this model has reached its tipping point. She hardly knows anything about her, yet she’s willingly going to spend four days with her in a random city far from home? She’s too far gone, she knows it. But a big part of her does not care.

OF Mel who is skeptical about meeting with Sevika, and further isolating herself in a hotel room with her while being 500 miles away from home. She’s attempted relationships before, they’ve never gone well. Half of her exes wanted her to quit her only stream of income while the other half treated her like their personal prostitute. Strangely, though, Mel trusted Sevika. Plus, “it was only a meet up. If things don’t work out, we can always part ways.”

Special Viewer Sevika whose brain short circuits when she sees Mel in person at the airport. She's taller than she expected, but she still barely reaches Sevika's chin. Her tattoos are a lot more vibrant in life than they are in video, the bright gold starkly contrasts her dark brown skin. It’s angelic. She notices how her strides are long and confident, pulling stares from almost every person in the area. Sevika’s skin grows goosebumps when she hears Mel call her name. Her voice smooth as velvet sans video filter. She realizes that her need for Mel is comparable to her need for water.

OF Mel who cannot stop staring at the tall, muscular butch in front of her. She’s immediately obsessed with the way Sevika fills any room she’s in. Her aura, not just her stature, commands the attention of everyone within a 10 feet radius of her. Her short hair in a half up half down style; her bulging muscles peaking through her long sleeves and joggers; her large breasts and wide hips; her sharp jawline; everything about her represents the perfect mixture of femininity and masculinity that Mel immediately becomes obsessed with. The women are not officially dating, but nobody else around them knows that. Mel loves how the wondering gaze of strangers immediately snaps away when they see Sevika standing beside her. It turns her on to no end. Mel knows she must have Sevika.

OF Mel who is surprised that they don't hook up on the first night in the hotel. After a beautiful dinner at a rooftop restaurant, the women returned to the hotel and started... talking. Like having a genuine conversation about one another's lives: what they do for work, what they do for fun, their interests, their dislikes, their friends, their family, their exes. How Sevika lost her arm; how Mel became estranged from her family. Eventually, they fall asleep in one another's arms with a plotless movie playing in the background. Mel awakes to Sevika's sleeping face. Facial features sharp but relaxed. Against Mel's will, her brain begins to conjure up a future with her.

Special Patron Sevika who wanted to know everything about Mel: the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. She realizes halfway through the night that she's become infatuated with the little things about Mel. Sevika has never been the one to crack jokes, but she found herself becoming a world-renowned comedian, just so she could hear Mel's laugh. She adores the way the model's eyes sparkle when she sees something sweet or something shiny or something sparkly. Although Sevika knows she makes way less money than Mel, she is willing to empty her pockets just to see Mel smile. The next morning, Sevika initially wakes up earlier than Mel. But upon seeing the smaller womans head buried in her neck, long eyelashes lightly dusting her plump cheeks, Sevika decides that a few more hours wouldn't hurt.

OF Mel and Special Patron Sevika who can't wait to fuck each other.

It's the third night of their four-day trip. The sexual tension between the two was burning for three days straight until it finally exploded into a ferocious make out session. In the small hallway of their hotel room, Sevika pins Mel to the wall by lifting her by her thighs. Mel's legs, which are wrapped around Sevika's waist, tighten as the bigger woman kisses and bites down her cheeks and neck. Sevika begins sucking at Mel's throat, pulling moans that were far different from the ones in her videos. These moans were gutteral; caused from sexual yearning rather than false performance.

"Please give it to me, please, please, please," Mel has never been the one to beg, but she doesn't think she can make another night without Sevika on top of her.

Sevika answers with a moan as she makes her presence known on the surface of Mel's neck. From this position, she easily accesses Mel's heat, wrapping her harm around her ass to finger her cunt.

Mel gasps in surprise. "God, you're so strong." She's so touched starved she could come right there, but Sevika doesn't allow it. She moves both of them to the king sized bed, gently placing her princess on the virgin white sheets. From there Mel watches as the muscular woman undresses. Pulling off her shirt first before unbuckling her trousers. The sight makes Mel's hole clench and her clit throb in anticipation. Then, out of nowhere, she gets a sinister idea.

Quickly reaching into her gold, diamond studded bag, she pulls out her phone and opens the camera app. She presses the little red record button and drunkenly says,"smiiiiiiile."

Sevika looks up at the camera and smirks. "You tryin to pimp me out, princess?"

"No, no one else will see this. But a beauty like you can't avoid the camera for long."

"Well in that case...", Sevika snatches the camera from Mel's hand. Maybe Mel is too drunk to remember, but she doesn't recall Sevika putting on strap. But there it was, in all its length and girth, filling up her field of vision. Sevika points the camera down towards Mel. She lifts her hand to her cheek, guiding her lips to the tip of the strap. '"Open."

Mel obeys, moisturizing the strap with her saliva. Sevika thrusts the strap further into her mouth, causing both women to moan. "Look up at the camera, doll." Sevika watches as Mel's ivy green eyes flicker up towards the camera, tears collecting at the edges of her eyelashes. "There's a good girl. Get it all wet for me, it's going in you next."

Mel groans as the strap fills her mouth, forcing her to lower her jaw to an uncomfortable range to compensate for the girth. Sevika pulls her off the plastic length. "Smile." The princess smiles at the camera, streams of saliva running down her chin. "So damn beautiful."

Using one hand on Mel's arm, Sevika flips the smaller woman on her back. "Arch it for me, baby. Like you do in the videos." Mel happily obeys. Her arch, to Sevika's pleasure, is comparable to that of a stretching cat. Sevika turns on the phone flashlight while still recording. "Look at that."

"Do you like what you see," Mel coos.

"Love it," Sevika slowly inserts the length into Mel's exposed cunt. Mel lurches forward, but the stronger woman above her pulls her back by the waist and tuts. "You can take all of it, baby."

Can she? Mel hasn't had genuine sex in so long that Sevika's strap feels like the first time she had sex. She grips the sheets as Sevika buries her cock deeper and deeper into her core, hitting spots she forgot she had.

"mmf--ah--mmm-mm-fuck", Mel can barely form a coherent sentence as Sevika's punishment on her pussy increases in speed. She suddenly remembers that she's being recorded and reaches one arm back to smack the phone out of Sevika's hand, who doesn't take too kindly to that action.

Sevika grabs both of Mel's wrists and pins them to her back, deepening her arch. "Camera shy, all of a sudden?" Her thrusts do not let up, instead, she pumps her cock impossibly faster into Mel's cunt. "What if I posted you everywhere? Huh? What if I exposed you for the slut you were? Would you like that?" Mel wants to scream from how good Sevika's dick feels. A familiar feeling begins to pool within her stomach, and from the sloppiness of Sevika's thrusts, she can tell that she is also close.

"Goddamn, you look so good", Sevika huffs. "Too good to keep private. I'm gonna show everybody, baby. I'm gonna show everybody how good your pussy is. Do you want that?"

Mel continues to gasp and slur incoherently, feeling her orgasm about to spill over. Sevika grunts.

"Huh? Talk to me, doll. Say no if you don't want it."

With that, Mel's orgasm spills over like an overfilled bucket. Causing her to shake and her legs to grow weak. She buries her head into the mattress, damn near screaming as Sevika rides out her peak.

"There's a good girl, give me what I want."

Mel drools as Sevika continues to pump into her overused pussy, smiling as she nears her own orgasm.

"Something funny?" Mel stops smiling and bites her lower lip. "God, you're so fucking good--" With a final thrust, Sevika reaches her orgasm. She stops recording, pulls out the strap, then leans forward to kiss Mel's heated ear and cheek.

Mel hums sweetly. "How about a little break, then round two."

Sevika smiles and kisses Mel along her back. "I would love that."

The women fuck for hours. Although they are too tired for aftercare by the end of the night, they still wrap themselves up in one another's arms, blissfully forgetting that tomorrow is their last night in the city together.

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words-and-yearning · 5 months ago

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Tell Me

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(I'm gonna post this on AO3, but I have to wait to get an invitation because I have never posted on there before. I hope to make more chapters of this fic).

Content: Mel X Sevika, modern AU, porn with plot, cheating, fingering, light dub-con

The bride-to-be dips her thin-pointed makeup brush into her small container of black eye paint, carefully applying a black line beginning at the edge of her eye near her tear duct and ending at the edge closest to her ear. She leaves a small empty column in the middle on both eyes. She picks up another small brush and dips it in a container of gold eye paint, filling in the empty column on both her top and bottom eyelid. If a mistake is made, she swiftly and neatly wipes it off with a makeup wipe and retries; always perfecting her second attempt.

“Now, that’s better,” satisfied with her work, she concludes her makeup routine with a layer of setting spray: exactly four spritz and approximately five inches from her face.

Mel regards herself in her vanity mirror, tilting her head to manipulate the light’s effect on her face. There are no imperfections: her contour is both perfectly blended and perfectly carved; her lipstick does not exceed past the lining of her lips; her eyeshadow color remains obedient at eyelids (unlike in her elementary years of applying makeup, where accidental specks of eyeshadow can be seen at cheeks and chin). After inspecting her manicured nails for any residue of dark brown foundation, she returns her engagement ring on the rightful finger.

“Hm. Perfect”, as it should be. As it is. Mel’s life should be perfect. She acquired the perfect job as the youngest CEO of Piltover Technologies. She’s acquired the perfect lifestyle; meaning while working full-time, she can also travel where she pleases on her own dime and on her own time. She’s acquired the perfect man; a humble beginner who’s proved himself time and time again at her company. It only makes sense for them to end up together. It only makes sense for them to marry.

Mel’s eyes move from her face to her hair and back up to face, as if something were missing.

Something has always been missing. Living to exceed the strict standards of her mother always left a gaping hole where the feeling of accomplishment should reside. Lucky for her, Mel’s mother loves Jayce, her soon-to-be husband. “He’s intelligent yet impressionable. Strong, but moldable. The perfect man, in my opinion.” Her mother then went on to ramble about how great of a father he would make, but Mel stopped listening from there. There was a time in which she wanted that from Jayce: marriage and children. But something within her shifted. Something that she cannot place.

Her friends have long realized her funk, as they could always read Mel like a book. “What’s troubling you, darling?”, Elora, her life-long friend asked one day as they sat in the balcony of a popular beachfront brunch spot.

At the time, Mel picked at her soup and lightly sipped her jasmine tea, “Promise me you won’t tell a soul.”

“Of course”, Elora promised. She was genuine, but she also leaned forward attentively, hungry for the details Mel was soon to relay to her.

“I can’t get married to Jayce”, Mel said, slowly. She looked up to see Elora’s jaw to the table. “Please don’t look at me like that! I don’t know what it is.”

“Mel, honey, please tell me you’re joking.”

“There’s no one else if that’s what you’re wondering”, Mel reassured. “I loved him at first, I really, really did. But something shifted, I don’t know how to explain it. Our love, now, seems… transactional…scripted… like a performance.”

“Mmmhmm”, Elora hummed, as if she successfully diagnosed her best friend’s problem. “You know what I think? I think you’ve spent too long being independent. Sure, you’ve had a fling with a guy here or a hookup with a girl there, but you’ve never truly given yourself to another person. Having Jayce is, honestly, a brand-new concept for you.”

Mel sighed, “We’ve been together for two years, the concept isn’t ‘brand new’”.

“Au contraire, my love. Dating is one thing, marriage is another. It is a ball game. An unfair, dangerous, and humbling ballgame.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

Elora laughed. “You know what you need? A bachelorette party! Just you, me, and the girls! We can take you to this place I’ve been eyeing and- oh Mel stop trying to cover my mouth! It’s a good idea!”

Now, as Mel awaits Elora’s text to meet her out at her front door, she wonders if it is a good idea. Although she doesn’t believe in the traditional meaning of a bachelorette party (the idea that it is your “last day of freedom” is appalling to her), it wouldn’t hurt her to step outside of her shell and into some nightlife.

Mel’s phone pings with Elora’s contact name in a little box on her home screen.

You ready, party girl? the message reads.

With one last look over and a nod to the mirror, Mel sets off into the night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going”, Mel asks the group as she applies another layer of lipstick after determining that the color was not bold enough to her liking.

“Hush, hush, we’ll be there moment”, Elora laughs the laugh of a person who has had too many shots of tequila.

“How are you already drunk at my bachelorette party?”

“Me? Drunk? Noooooooo”, Elora and the rest of the girls (around six girls in the limousine in total) cackle in unison. Mel predicts that tonight will not be short-lived.

The limousine turns right into the parking lot of a small but vibrant building. A sign just beside the building labels it “The Black Rose”, with each letter except the assumed “O” in neon, dark purple. A neon pink rose replaced the missing letter “O”.

“Where are we?”, Mel has never heard of this place, but judging from the packed parking lot and the countless shadows of bodies within the grandiose windows, she could see that it was fairly popular.

The women are dropped off towards the front of the line. Mel flashes her I.D. to the bouncer, and they are allowed in with zero questions. Immediately, Mel realizes that this club is different from the others around the city. For one, the bouncer was a tall woman with pale skin, dark tattoos, and brazing red hair pulled back into a tight bun. Although she wasn’t the normal bulky man that Mel was used to seeing guarding the entrances of nightclubs, she was just as intimidating. Within the club, there is a grand stage that takes up one third of the floor. Mel watches as numerous female dancers dressed in erotic clothing spin on poles located on the sides of the stage, while numerous others are dancing in chairs towards the front. This is where she notices the primary demographic of the nightclub: women. Butch women. Feminine women. Young women. Older women. Every variation of woman is both the provider of entertainment and the recipient.

“A lesbian nightclub?”, Mel shoves Elora, but she can’t say that she’s angry.

“Surprise!” Elora throws up her arms and performs exaggerated jazz hands. “This place is golden! I promise, there’s no way for you to get bored here!” She leads the group to the right side of the stage—to the left side houses the bar and a mysterious hallway leading to a secret backstage—which holds several chairs with a piece of paper taped to the back, curtly reading “reserved: “Mel bach party”. The women sit and watch as various dancers take the stage and captivate their audience with erotic performance.

After two margaritas (and several cowgirl acts), Mel could finally say she was having fun. Cheering on the performers, slipping five-dollar bills into their waistbands, and singing along to their chosen playlist. She understands Elora’s intention to bring her out into the world of looser rules, but how is this supposed to fix Mel’s most pressing problem?

Before she can ask, a voice—the host—bellows from the speakers: “Ladies and gentle-ladies, we didn’t think she’d show tonight, but you know she can’t stay away from y’all for too long! Please welcome to the stage Sevika!”

To say that the crowd is roaring is an understatement.

As the performer takes the stage, Mel notices that she is not like the others. While the other dancers flaunt revealing, feminine, and sparkling outfits, this one sports only a brown cropped tank top, cargo shorts that are ruffled at the edges, and faux combat boots. Usually, an outfit combination like this would make Mel gag in disgust, but the performer absolutely owned the look. The bronze lighting above the stage created perfect shadows that contoured her well-sculpted shoulders and arms (her left arm a visible, metal prosthetic). Her hair is short and straight, but thick; and it is pulled into a half up half down style. The woman’s head is held high; her jaw tight and well-defined; her facial features broad and stern yet seductive and genial.

The performer scans the make-up of her audience, then thrusts her hips towards them, revealing a happy trail that Mel’s eyes gladly follow. Sultry music gradually fills the room as the performer sets herself on the chair, legs spread open as if waiting for someone to crawl on their knees and take their chance with her. Mel is unable to hear the music over her racing heart. For some reason, this woman is making her body react in ways that should only be reserved for her future husband. Mel watches the performer’s lips closely as she mouths to the words of a Bobby Valentino song, heat rising from her chest to her ears. She crosses her legs as if to avoid an intense urge but makes the sensation more diabolical.

“Mel! Mel”, how long has Elora been calling her name, Mel doesn’t know. Elora gives Mel a confused glare then follows her eyes to the performer, then looks back at Mel, then gasps. “No way! Oh, fuck yeah, we’re doing it! Hey, Sevika!” Mel’s best friend since childhood, who has definitely never done anything to intentionally embarrass her, waves down the performer.

Sevika turns her head towards the group. Mel covers her face in shame.

“Hey, Sevika! We have a bride-to-be over here!”, Elora is now standing in her chair pointing to Mel for the performer—and every person in the club—to see. With a coy smirk on her face, Sevika rises from her performance chair and strolls towards the edge of the stage, the shrieks of the girls around her grow louder as Sevika moves closer to the group.

With her hands still cupping her face, Mel hopes that Sevika realizes the amount of social pain that she is in and searches for another victim. But she instead looms over the group, her confident gaze meeting Mel’s. The bronze and pink lighting creates a halo around her as she holds her hand out in invitation.

Dear god… Mel knows she shouldn’t, but how can she say no?

As Mel takes Sevika’s hand, she realizes hers are far more damp and shaky in comparison. Nonetheless, the performer leads her new catch to the chair in the middle of the stage. The crowd screams, but Mel’s group can be heard above them all. Mel slowly settles into the chair. Sevika then leans over her, their faces mere centimeters apart. Mel’s deep browns focus on Sevika’s clear greys. She’s never seen eyes so intense yet so beautiful. The performer brings Mel’s hand to her lips and places a shy kiss on her knuckle.

“May I have this dance, Princess?”, she says.

How is every part of this woman sexy?

Mel realizes she may have spoken too soon as the music shifts from Bobby Valentino to Fergie. In an instant, Sevika slams one muscular leg on the arm of the chair and makes exaggerated hip-thrusts towards Mel, poking out her butt extra hard for the crowd behind her. Mel shrieks and covers her face, which she bets has gone dark purple from sheer embarrassment. Sevika then turns around, grabs either side of the chair, and proceeds to give Mel a lap dance. The word “princess” has never suited her so perfectly, as Mel had no idea what to do with her hands or her body. How are you supposed to behave when someone is shaking their ass on your midriff?

Mel chooses to shriek louder, spurts of laughter interrupting her screams of shock.

By the time the performer finishes. Mel is crying with laughter and waving her hands in front of her face. She can hear Elora shouting “Get it, Mel!” over the applause of the audience. One large hand grabs Mel’s waist as another grabs her hand. Before she is led off the stage, the performer turns Mel around to face her. The woman, Mel now notices, stands a head taller than her. With a gaze of genuine concern, Sevika asks “You’re good, right?”.

“Y-yes”, Mel doesn’t know why she stutters. “I’m okay, I had fun.”

“Good,” Sevika’s eyes takes in the entirety of Mel’s face, as if there weren’t one hundred other people in the room. “Room 17.”

And with that, Mel is led off the stage.

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Any other day, Mel would think throwing back shot after shot would be brash and messy. She prefers to lightly sip on something sweet to allow for the gradual, methodical effects of alcohol to swoon her mind and body. But this isn’t any other day and she doesn’t have time for gradual or methodical; so she throws back at least 5 shots of tequila. Her face sours as she sucks on the provided lime slice, not at the flavor, but at what she is about to do.

“Girls, I’m going to be gone for a while, but I’ll come back… soon… probably”, Mel looks over to her group, and they’re giving her suggestive looks back. “Oh, come on, don’t judge! I’m not gonna do anything, I’m just having some fun!”

Nobody says a word.

“And she’s the one that invited me, so—”

One of her friends cackle, “Go ahead and have your fun, babe!” Mel searches for Elora to provide an opinion, but she is already on the dance floor back against the pelvis of the muscular, red-headed security guard.

Past the bar and to the left of the stage is the dimly lit hallway that Mel noticed when she first entered the club. Although the entrance sported translucent curtains, there was nothing substantial to bar anyone from entry. Mel parts the soft fabric and searches the plaques above the doors—which were merely beads hanging from a doorframe-- for her destination.

4…

6…

12…

16…

She turns her body to the left. 17.

As Mel stood in front of the doorway of temptation, she was hit with a sudden reality: What the fuck am I doing? Before she can turn on her heels and rejoin her party, a low voice calls from within the room: “Come in, Princess.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Hardly matters, does it?” Mel is already five steps in the room, so obviously it doesn’t matter.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Why did you come?” Sevika pulls a drag from a cigar Mel did not notice until now. Mel usually hates the smell of tobacco, but this scent was less aversive and more sweet.

“To…um… talk I guess”

“Talk?” Sevika laughs. “Well, come talk over here, darling”. She pats the empty space next to her on the sofa.

Mel sits and she finds the sofa dangerously too small. There is no avoiding Sevika’s intense eye-contact. Her palms begin to sweat, and her heart quickens in pace, but she forces herself to not show any outward emotions. Sevika looks comfortable, actually, more than comfortable as her eyes travel across Mel’s frozen body like a novel map; her eyes lingering at destinations she would love to explore.

“I’m getting married soon”, Mel says as more of a reminder for herself rather than a direct statement to Sevika.

“So I’ve heard,” Sevika flicks ash off the edge of her cigar. “Come here.”

Mel reluctantly obeys, curling herself to fit in between Sevika’s legs. “Are you happy”, Sevika asks through a puff of smoke.

“Of course I’m happy.”

“I don’t know a lot of happy women that accepts invitations from a dancer,” Sevika chuckles. Mel’s grows hot. “But, hey, we don’t have to think about it.” The hand that wasn’t holding the cigar moves from the back of the sofa to Mel’s knee, and from Mel’s knee to her inner thigh below her dress; her thumb caressing the bit of space leading to her vaginal folds.

Mel reacts in a way that she shouldn’t. Her breathing hitches as her heart skips several beats. Her hips jerk slightly upwards, as if reaching for a certain sensation from Sevika’s touch. Her hand rushes to Sevika’s to move her hand away, but Sevika remains firm in her position.

“I invited you back here, because I thought you were interesting”, the daring woman stifles what’s left of her cigar in the ashtray on the adjacent table. She brings that metallic hand to rest on Mel’s arm as her other hand moves closer to a dangerous zone. “Out of every woman I’ve seen pass through this place, you’re the most beautiful.” Her thumb lightly presses at Mel’s clit, still hidden behind the thin fabric of her underwear. “You’re the most polished. What are you doing in a place like this?”

Mel struggles to catch her breath but manages to find her voice, “I-um-my friends brought me here. For fun.”

Sevika’s lips trail Mel’s ear. Her breath breezes her cheeks, doing very little to dissipate the burning beneath Mel’s skin. “Is this fun?” Sevika is now palming at Mel’s core, causing her to gasp in both surprise and relief.

“Huh? I asked you a question.” The edge of her palm rubs harder. Mel presses her body further against Sevika’s, one hand instinctively anchoring the back of the stronger woman’s neck. Sevika breathes a laugh in Mel’s ear sending a ripple effect to her clit. “Come on, Princess. Tell me what you want.”

Mel’s grip tightens and her body presses further into Sevika, her ass creating friction at Sevika’s sensitive area. Sevika groans. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers breach the lining of her panties and slowly fingers at Mel’s clit. Mel’s eyes flutter shut and a moan escapes from her mouth.

She knows this is wrong. She needs to stop. We need to stop.

“We can’t…” Mel’s voice is barely above a whisper.

“What?” Sevika’s finger continues to rub at a breathtaking pace, barely allowing time for Mel to produce a full sentence. The smaller woman attempts to find her voice, but she’s too far gone in the sea of pleasure and desire. She knows she needs to stop, but she wants a release. She wants Sevika to fill the gaping hole in her life that’s been aching to be filled.

Mel grabs Sevika’s wrist. Sevika teeth grips her earlobe. She grunts, “Let go, Princess. This is what you came here for.” Mel’s ashamed of the noise that she makes.

“Mel?”

Both women spring from their positions, as if they were caught in a crime. Mel rises from the sofa and looks to the doorway. Luckily, the familiar voice did not enter the room but instead called from the hallway.

“Hey, Mel. Anteria just threw up and uh… yeah we gotta go… she’s not doing too well”, Elora is still drunk, but from what Mel can tell she is still the most responsible one of the group.

“Alright. I’ll be there, in a moment.” Mel brushes the guilt from her pure white dress and leaves Sevika on the sofa. The other woman doesn’t seem bothered; she’s already lit another cigar and is leaning so far back that her head almost hangs upside down on the edge of the sofa. Before she can leave, without thinking properly, Mel turns around and says, “It was… fun.”

Sevika pulls a long drag from her cigar and expends a cumulus cloud of smoke. “You know where to find me, Mel.”

And with that, the so-called princess follows her best friend to retrieve the rest of her group, temporarily discarding the potential key to her life’s dilemma.

#melvika #mel x sevika #mel arcane #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane fanfic #mel and sevika

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