"Hope you know that this isn't a date though." Frida stated strictly as she sat down at table number 9, by the window. A little rectangular sign indicated the reservation for R. Taylor, 9.30 PM. The table for two was all set, with dim lighting, the overall atmosphere of the restaurant was very sophisticated and surprisingly calm compared to what Frida was expecting.
Maybe even a little romantic.
Right next to a glass door was their table set, and so they had a lovely view over the city, as the restaurant was on the roof of a grand building. The sky was clear, no humidity at all to make the view hazy. The moon shone brightly with the stars as her royal household, surrounding her, highlighting her beauty with every last bit of their luminosity. The landscape showed thousands of buildings, cold lamplight coming through a few of their glass windows, which by daylight only reflect the colour of the London sky. Only in the evening would they let a curious gaze through. Then looking over at a square, a narrow lane or a park, the street luminaires enlightened every possible surface generously and coated them in their warm, celebratory light. No questions asked.
Frida chose a figure-hugging dress for the occasion, especially to show off that spectacular shape of hers, just making everyone want to run their hands over the curves, dig their fingers into that round ass, suck on those fleshy breasts, bite into them, marking her with hickeys, claiming her, ruin perfection. It was as if she wasn't even mundane, as if she had ichor running in her veins. Her tan skin glowed with divine golden shine, too flawless to be true. She smelled of oriental flowers and amber, musk, vetiver. Fairly simple, but very effective. Her delicate, manicured hands rested on the table, all jewelled up with dainty pieces, red lacquer on her sharp oval nails, making you beg to be scratched, get hurt by them, not too much, just a little bit to feel alive. Her lips glistened with rich coloured gloss, invitingly plump.
Like an amaryllis flower, she offered herself in her full bloom, with her irresistible beauty. You can look, you can even touch if you like – but if you're not careful, she will slowly suffocate you and before you notice you're gasping for air, begging for salvation with every last conscious bit of yourself.
"Oh? Then what is it?" Regina asked as she sat down across the table. The blazer of her pinstripe suit was loose on her, with big shoulder pads, giving her an angular frame, more dominant, majestic and stately at the same time. When she took it off, a crew neck top and a rocker chain got revealed that hung from the high waistline of her pants down to her hip and back to the waist again. Her shoulder-length hair was messy and unruly, even running her fingers through it didn't change a thing. One side of her lips curled into a smirk as she watched Frida let her head fall back in order to stretch her neck out. Her collarbones came forward along with her shoulders, it all looked so bloody kissable, fucking hell.
"A professional meeting between two bandmates who happen to sing together and whose voices go together like nectar and ambrosia. Or don't you think so?" her fingertip slowly caressed the rim of the crystal wineglass in circles as she talked.
Regina laughed out loud. Doesn't she think so? "Well, what I think is that if our voices go hand in hand then there must be other things, too, that we can do oh so well together. What's so wrong about a date anyway, hm?" she poured herself and Frida from the red wine on the table, and she took a sip, the drink tainting the inner side of her lips dark red.
"Jo and Bria would kill us, that's what's so wrong about it. And they'd have every right, I'd kill them too if they dated. Risking the future of such a wonderfully-well-put-together band only for a little bit of fun?" She was right, the band was flourishing, and even though some dating rumours would've only pushed them even forward in the world of media, they thought it's best if the pilgrimage to fame is made through music only. No scandals needed. Well, not on purpose.
"Rather for a lot of fun, babe. I don't go for little. I aim high." The smirk on Reg's face stayed as she observed every motion of the other woman.
"Oh, do you? Couldn't tell so far."
"You will be able to, rather soon, don't worry. My skills never go underappreciated."
"Well it is a shame you won't have a chance to show me what you're capable of, darling."
"If I didn't stand a chance then you wouldn't have put on this dress, sweets."
Such stinging sentences were ordinary for them, they just loved to push each other's buttons, and comeback after comeback it excited them more and more. A constant fight for dominance between the two, that started off at band practice and as it went forward with time, it picked up a certain sexual tinge.
This time Frida let Reg win; although she had the comeback of "Wow, you're smarter than I thought", she kept it to herself. Instead, she watched her own finger draw circles on the glass rim, very slowly, hardly touching. But this time it wasn't her glass.
There's something about drinking from someone else's chalice. Touching the same area of the crystal with your lips as theirs have touched before, where their taste remains, where you can savour them without anyone else noticing. A secret for two, a hidden kiss, that will never be spoken of but will forever be remembered.
This is what they both thought of when Frida raised Regina's glass to her lips and drank from it, her lipstick leaving a smooth mark, their gazes tied together, never loosening. Eye-sex was something else they've been excellent at. Regina had so-called "bedroom eyes", while Frida just had to flutter her lashes the right way if she wanted to get something. Anything. The two combined was so charged with lust and desire that it could've powered the entire city of London with electricity for god knows how long.
"So, ladies, how about a dessert?" The waiter, as suddenly as he came, broke the moment in half. He leaned onto the table, towards Frida. She looked up at him and smiled brightly.
"Yes, definitely, darling. Is there anything you'd recommend?"
"Well, I'd say we have a pretty good chocolate soufflé, but no matter how tasty it is, unfortunately it isn't sweeter than you." He leaned lower, into her aura.
"Oh, that's no problem at all, I'd like that, please!" Frida laughed flirtatiously, as if she actually enjoyed the pick-up line, and it drove Regina mad. Her jaw clenched while her lips curled into a smug smile and her stare grew cold as ice.
"And how about you, would you like a dessert?" The waiter now turned to her.
"Well, you know, my dessert is sitting right across the table." She stated sternly.
The waiter then, after apologizing multiple times and various ways, got them a chocolate soufflé, free of charge of course, and soon after the tea light went out, the girls got going. Reg helped Frida put her fur coat on and followed her into the elevator. It was rare to see someone move like Frida. Her posture was that of a ballet dancer and yet she wasn't tense at all. Her hips moved at a perfect pace, her arms in sync, her steps being gracious, as if she was walking on a runway made of clouds. The gentle clacking sound of her high heels created a nice rhythm, with an almost snare-like effect and punctuality. Regina was more realistic; her combat boots slammed against the floor with great force, threateningly, as if she guarded her lady from harm. She looked determined, and powerful, but very loose and relaxed at the same time. Her steps imitating the kick-drum, being vibrant and low, dictating the base and yet adjusting to the other woman's rhythm. The cherry on the cake was the tinkling of the rocker chain against Regina's hipbone, the keys and change in her pocket, and Frida's bracelet, as well as the golden pendant on her purse. It added a beautiful, high-toned ornamentation to the scenery.
They never noticed what music they made, and yet they did, even if only subconsciously.
The elevator ride was quiet and very tense. You could almost hear every heartbeat, as if they were echoing, the waves bouncing off the metallic walls. They both knew that the elevator was the perfect make out place, a time long enough to get them to the state of excitement, but short enough to not let them go overboard publicly. It could've been the entrée right before the main course comes, just a kiss, to get a taste of each other, to have something to look forward to. But nothing happened.
Frida never had a driver's license, and she wasn't planning on getting one. Not when she always had a chauffeur to drive her to the studio, to antique shops, or to the airport. However, she did have a Rolls-Royce for this reason. She loved to be driven around London, going from Harrods to the studio, then back to Harrods, cause she couldn't get a skirt out of her head that she had left there... Regina, on the other hand, very much liked to drive her own cars and she would've never missed an opportunity to do so. Even when the band went abroad, she could try out what it's like to drive in a right-hand traffic zone, and she managed amazingly, probably partially thanks to her drumming skills. It happened, of course, that she got pulled over by the cops for speeding... But it was a part of her, she just loved it, it gave her the same kind of adrenaline as performing, or kickboxing... or other type of activities. But most of the time she managed to behave, especially in central London. And that night was no exception.
They headed towards Regina's place, that was about a 10-minute drive away from the restaurant she chose. Luckily the roads weren't particularly busy. Frida, at first, was only staring out the window, admiring the beauty of the buildings. But after a while it got boring, and she decided on turning inwards, getting cosy, pulling one of her legs up. An old CD was playing quietly, and Reg tapped her fingers onto the steering wheel to the rhythm. Her face was gently lit by the streetlamps that they drove by, but only for a short while. The light slid down from her forehead, over her nose, down to her lips and suddenly she was buried by the darkness of the night again. It was ever so fidgeting to wait until the rays hit her visage again and again. A little bit like when you know your birthday is close and then, before you know it, it's already over and you didn't get to enjoy it enough.
Her forearms stood strong, probably from all the drumming, covered in ink. The red dragon, that Frida loved so much, was right there, just a touch away, and while she'd touched it a million times before, it would've been the biggest step to take at that very moment to even trace a fingertip over it. She didn't want to bother the perfect still-life. Regina had four animals on her arms – a tiger, a dragon, a heron and a koi fish – earth, fire, air and water. Frida had never noticed before this perfect balance of elements in those tattoos, but she was entirely sure that it was a conscious decision from Reg's part to get them exactly that way. She wasn't a very spiritual person, she didn't believe in this voodoo-stuff, but she also didn't want to somehow accidentally get herself imbalanced.
Her face became visible once again, and it somehow got only more and more beautiful with every trace of light. The concentration was written on her lips the same way as when she's drumming – they turned slightly pouty, just the tiniest bit, just enough to look appetizing as hell. Still a little tainted from the wine-
The wine.
That was when Frida actually realized that Reg was under the influence of alcohol. Not very much, she only drank a glassful, but still... that's more than what a driver should consume. However, she somehow trusted her and knew that she would not put both of their lives at risk if she didn't feel capable of driving. Besides, she did eat, so it should be alright. She knows her limits. This reminded Frida of the time when Regina got arrested in Monaco for drunk driving AND speeding. That was a story she never missed a chance to tell. How she truly felt the humiliation of having handcuffs on and being exposed to whatever in heaven... Luckily, she managed to look at it the funny way, but the girls knew that it in fact hurt her feelings pretty bad that this case got her degraded in some way as a driver. But this was years ago, and it got left behind.
Reg bit her lip and leaned back even more into the seat. They got a red light. For a little while they just sat still the same way... Then Frida got bored.
She grasped the moment and very slowly slid her hand across the tan, taut skin of her thigh, just barely caressing with the tips of her nails. Her hand ran further up, under the hem of the dress that already slid up when she got herself comfortable in the seat. She watched as the blonde tapped the wheel, wishing it were those fingertips that touched her in those secret places instead of her own. Over her thighs, up her panties and pressing the lacy material between those lips. Her fingers felt nice and warm, applying the perfect amount of pressure on her clit through the fabric, and she couldn't help but throw her head back the slightest bit, keeping her eyes fixated on Reg's hands and lips. The lace soaked through as she massaged it into her folds and her pointer finger drew small, tight circles into her skin, over and around the most sensitive part. It was the fabric that gave that rough edge to the touch that Frida was aching for from the drummer's hands. Every calloused inch would've been lifechanging... Regina stayed still, only looking at the red light, waiting for it to change hue, turning yellow and then green. Her peripheral vision didn't betray her of course. She slowly sucked in and bit down on the insides of her cheeks. Her fingertips now caressed the steering wheel, only to soon let them rest and rub into the leather. Frida had to hold back a whimper from the picture her imagination gave her just from this sight. Reg smirked, pleased with the reaction she triggered, and she stepped on the gas as soon as the lamp finally let them go.
You could always know when Regina was horny. You could feel it, you could see it on her face, in the corner of her lips, in the curvature of her jaw... in the light of her eyes. It was no different with Frida, but these subtle signs became monumental in her case – she let you know, with actions, with words, with moans that she wanted you and that she wouldn't take anything that's less than heavenly pleasure. She never took her eyes off Reg for the rest of the ride, nor her hands off her panties, excitedly waiting for whatever the rest of the night may have up its dark, starry sleeve for them.
Reg was the one to get out of the car first, then she opened the door for Frida. Miss Mercury wasn't clumsy, but of course a few scenarios ran through her head for how she could handle an accidental balance loss, falling on the ground like an octopus from the top of a ladder. She figured she'd probably get her knees bruised then, which hurts like shit anyway so she wouldn't even have to pretend to be in pain and then Reg would either help her in, or better case, she'd carry her inside in her arms. Both sounded nice, but still Frida hoped this wouldn't have to happen, so she watched each of her steps as she got out of the car and got going towards the house. The only thing that made her legs go weak in the knee was when she felt a warm hand on her lower back – her eyes closed, and she knew immediately that she was fucked. The hand was meant to support her, but it really had the exact opposite effect. She was used to being touched though, just not as much since... you know. Since King. Her stylist (yes, she had one, just in case she misses something chez Chanel) often did so, touched her body I mean, and he didn't only dress her but he also massaged her twice a week to keep her skin tight and shiny, so she was used to his touch for example. Just like that of her many friends, especially on parties, everyone wanted a piece of her. But she lived a rather solitary life ever since they got famous, and as I mentioned before, she didn't want any romance-drama in the news as long as their position in the music industry wasn't perfectly still and stable. So, in the company of her beloved hitachi, it's been longer since she'd last had any sexual interaction.
And Regina's hand was firm on her waist, firm but gentle, the palm and fingers perfectly following the curve of her body. Of course, since Reg knew very well which was the point on a girl's waist that made her feel all so aroused but weak at the same time, driving her to the point where she'd already imagined every possible way of orgasming from that very hand that lays on her lower back. But it wasn't just her own feeling of authority that she's been fucking around for, it was obviously one of the main reasons, but she did not do it exclusively for that. Feeling a girl grow confident under her hands and seeing her bloom only for her and no one else... yes, she was selfish, yes, she wanted to own them, even if only for a night. They all looked up at her, leaning above them, as if she was some kind of Messiah, a savior that will change their lives in the matter of the few hours of bliss and insane pleasure they spend together. It felt like time stood still and no one else existed in the entire world, only the two of them. Every noise, every ray of light, everything was excluded, all that mattered were the words that left Regina's mouth and the light that her eyes reflected. That was more than enough to light a fire – a wildfire that was fueled by desire and lust. But in the morning the Sun came up exactly like every other day, and they had to face the fact that their time was over.
Except these two were only getting started. They made their way into the kitchen where they opened another bottle of wine and got some ice cream out of the freezer, too. As Regina was trying to scoop the frozen dessert out of the container, Frida pushed herself up and sat on the counter. Her legs were dangling off, in a childlike manner, adorably. She watched the ice cream procedure curiously, taking small sips of her wine and catching Reg humming something. Maybe Son and Daughter, it sounded a lot like it. It was easy to get lost in the melody and the question hit Frida out of nowhere.
"What was that in the car, hm, beautiful?" Reg asked, not looking up from her business, yet giving all her attention to the other woman.
Frida put her wineglass to the side.
"Oh, I don't know what you're talking about." she blinked innocently at her lap while fiddling with her fingers, tapping her nails against each other.
"Come on, you're not stupid and I'm not blind... we both know what I'm talking about. You wanted me to see you doing it, didn't you?" here she finally lifted her head. She spotted Frida chewing on her lip. "So why don't you show me what it was?"
The brunette looked up to have her gaze tied into Regina's. She looked pleasedly annoyed with the blonde's overly confident behaviour.
"If you're not blind then you know exactly what it was and there's no need in me showing you again, is there?"
"Oh, there is. I didn't get to enjoy it enough, you know." Reg said as she stepped between Frida's legs, her hands resting on the counter on either side of the girl's hips. From this distance they could smell each other already, but not the perfume – each other's skin. They could feel each other's aura, Regina could feel the heat coming from between Frida's thighs, driving her mad, wanting to dive in already.
"That's too bad for you. But now that we're asking questions, what did you mean telling the waiter that your dessert was sitting right across the table, hm?"
Rhetorical questions do not expect an actual answer, since many times the asker already knows it. This was one of those times. Frida smirked.
Regina lowered her eyes to the plump, glossy, smug smile, slowly leaning so close that she could feel the other's breath on her skin.
"Right, I still haven't had any of my dessert yet... let me try a little, will you?"
With that Regina laid her right hand on Frida's thigh, causing the girl to jump a little from the sudden icy coldness, her mouth growing agape without any sound escaping, her brows frowning and her eyes silently begging for release. The blonde slid her hand further up, straight to her panties, and gathered some of her wetness on the tip of her pointer and middle fingers from the lace. Frida gasped and attempted to close her legs out of reflex, failing, Regina's lower body obstructing the movement. She moaned ever so quietly, struggling to keep it in no matter how hard she tried to resist. Then, after sufficiently temp-torturing and shocking that poor pussy, Reg brought her hand up to her lips and tasted her dessert. She let out the smallest 'mmhm' and licked her fingers clean, keeping the eye contact with Frida, whose lids were almost closed.
"Just like I pictured. But I want more of it." Regina mumbled against the lips of the brunette, almost tasting them. She then, brushing her lips over the bronzy, well contoured cheek, leaned over to her ear and whispered into it. "I want more of you, Frida... I've been wanting you for too long, it's about time I take what's mine... and fuck, the closer I get, the deeper I inhale you, the longer I watch you, the more I want to feel your wet heat around my fingers."
She traced her digits back to the panties, roughly pressing down on the swollen clit with her thumb, provoking a subconscious but slutty moan from Frida, right into her ear. Pleased with the reaction, Reg kept going.
"Oh yes, baby. So how about we stop this little game and you give in to me, hm? You just have to ask."
"You wish – ah fuck, please..."
"Now that's more like it."
Regina got hold of Frida's waist once again and closed the few millimetres space that was between them, kissing the brunette hungrily, with way more tongue than what would be appropriate for a first kiss, but it didn't matter at all. Then Frida got the blonde's face in her hands, pulling her deeper and deeper into the kiss until they both almost suffocated. Their lips moved smoothly on each other, Frida's lipgloss smearing all over them, its caramel flavour teasing their tastebuds, making them bite down and suck for more, flesh almost bursting from blood, having their moans echo and fade into each other's throat.
Reg leaned down to the lace panties, already smelling sex, knowing how appetizing it is and yet she took the time to leave bites and little red marks over the perfect, tight skin of the inner thighs. She didn't yet rip the underwear off though – first she licked through them, getting a loud gasp as response. Then she slid them off and finally kissed into Frida's folds. She forced her legs wider, making more space between them and laying her pointer and middle fingers on her labia, she opened her up in one slow motion, freeing the aching clit, seeing her entrance clench around nothing. It was a mouth-watering sight, and she couldn't help but lick into the sensitive, bright pink skin.
"You're so fucking wet" she grunted into her, feeling the thick, divine liquid coat her tongue like honey. She kept her eyes fixed on Frida's face, watching as the movement of her tongue filled her up with pleasure. Her long lashes fluttered open, looking Reg in the eyes, whose lips closed around the clit and started to suck on it eagerly, generating a pornographic moan from the brunette. "Oh my god, Reg" she whined, throwing her head back. The blonde groaned, her voice vibrating on Frida's nerve endings, sending chills down her spine and pushing her closer to the edge. Her pussy, swollen under the suction applied, was pulsating and Regina felt every heartbeat on the surface of her tongue. She then felt two hands in her hair, pushing her head deeper in – this would've normally triggered her to speak up, but here she just smirked at the neediness that led the subconscious movement. Frida was ready to release.
"You wanna come, baby? Tell me, do you want to come into my mouth? On my tongue?" Reg cooed warmly.
"Ah yes I- hmmm I do."
Regina smirked. Her lips released the flesh with an inappropriately filthy noise.
"Then come for me, kitten." the speed of her tongue and the volume of the moans increased at the same pace, all until Frida's thighs wrapped around Reg's head and they trembled with ecstasy. Pleasure overcame her and she came with a sweet, shaky moan that filled the kitchen and lingered in the air for a while, until new, smaller whimpers replaced it. Reg planted little kisses on the oversensitive area, impatiently waiting for her doll to open her eyes after coming down from her high. When she did so, her pupils seemed to take over, making her already dark eyes even blacker, a predatory look appearing on her face as she stared into the sky blue of Regina's irises.
She pulled her up into a kiss, this time herself being the hungrier one, sucking Reg's bottom lip into her mouth and tugging on it almost violently, wrapping her legs around her torso and her arms around her neck, never breaking the contact. She tasted herself on the petal-like lips, slowly realizing that her bandmate actually ate her out, the thought sending her mind into another dimension. It was the coldness of the rocker chain against her warm thigh that brought her back to reality, but she couldn't have cared less about it. Regina finally lifted her, her hands on the brunette's round ass, her fingertips digging into it, wishing she had already taken the dress off Frida to feel skin on skin... they got going towards the bedroom, Frida nibbling on Reg's neck in the meantime, trying to pull the tight crew neck top out of the high-waist pants to remove it and expose some more kissable surface. Soon enough she managed and threw it across the room, attacking the chest with sloppy kisses, leaving teeth marks on the way to the triangular mesh bra that showed the outline of the nipples perfectly.
Frida hissed at the sight of the pierced buds as they hardened through the black transparent fabric – she knew that Reg had them done, she'd seen the jewels peek through sometimes, but it completely slipped her mind that night and the thought of flicking her tongue against them made her drool. Except Reg had different plans.
When the brunette tried to slide the bra strap down the pale shoulder, her hand got slapped away, followed by a "nuh-uh-ah". She went back to peck at the collarbone, licking along the shoulder, getting the strap between her teeth and pulling it down, almost. Her back suddenly hit the wall with a loud bang and her cheeks got pressed together by Regina's strong hand, the delicious velvet lips opening up like a blossom. What a sight they were...
"If I say no..." Reg started, her voice raspy, the blue of her eyes only slowly rising to sting into the black ones "...then no, got it?"
Frida swallowed hard, but smirked instantly, for having gotten a bit of Reg's rough side. She took the hand off of her face. "Got it, don't worry, dearest."
"Good."
Regina suddenly pushed her hips hard against Frida's, making her moan out loudly.
"You know if I had been inside you just now, this motion would've sent you to heaven." she smirked, planting kisses along Frida's jawline.
"Oh, fuck me." Frida whined, tracing her fingertips up Reg's back and over her shoulder to her cleavage.
Regina leaned up to her ear and whispered, keeping her low tone. "Is that what you want? That 'little bit of fun' you've been so judgemental about before?"
Silence.
"Answer me, kitten. Me fucking you... Is that what you want?"
"Isn't it what you want? Don't you want to reach into me? Don't you want to feel me tighten around your fingers, Reg?" Frida purred as the tip of her nose caressed from the blonde's neck to the ear. The nails of her hand were tickling the other side of the neck, where the skin had been kissed raw.
"I think there's nothing that I have ever wanted more than to feel you." her hands dug even more into the dress at the girl's behind. She held her steadily against the wall, her knee helping her too, so her hands could wander a little bit. One of them went up to the jewelled strap of the dress and slid it down the shoulder slowly to reveal no bra at all. The full breast looked to be begging for a touch, and Reg granted it to her as she gave it a gentle squeeze, then rubbed her thumb against the areola that grew smaller under her touch. Only then did she notice her underwear being mad soaked. No wonder, honestly.
"Mhhhmm, really?" the whisper came from Frida as she pulled her legs up against Regina's sides, stroking them slowly.
"Yes, really."
"Then do it." Frida ordered and she once again French kissed Reg, leaving no space for further comebacks.
Regina got hold of her again and this time they didn't stop until the bedroom. It was rather simple, with cool dark tones, contrasted, with a king-sized bed (a/n: surprise), intricate lighting and a large mirror on the wall. The black sheets were soft on Frida's skin when she landed on them after being thrown away. She wasn't used to being manhandled but it excited her in some way. She kind of enjoyed being the weaker one, yet having a certain authority over Regina by being desired so much. Her dress was hardly covering anything anymore and her silky hair was a lot messier than in the restaurant. Her lipstick was completely smudged, but she was ever so beautiful. Reg looked like she could've been the queen of the underworld in her bra and pants ensemble, no creature at all that wouldn't have obeyed her. She observed Frida well on her bed, enjoying how exposed she was, looking almost like a ruined innocent soul. But we're talking about Miss Mercury, innocence is the last thing you'd associate with that thirsty little slut.
"So, what are you gonna do to me now?" she asked teasingly, crossing her lengthy legs in front of her body.
"I think you need a collar." Reg answered sternly as she walked over to the dresser facing the bed, pulling a drawer out and rummaging through it. She took a long chain out and wrapped it around her hand.
"Do I?" Frida leaned back against the headboard of the bed and smirked. Regina turned around.
"Oh yes, you do. Just to make sure you don't do anything that you'd regret, y'know." she stepped to the end of the bed. "Now, I want you to crawl to me. But keep your eyes on mine."
Frida, after a moment of hesitation, did as the blonde told her. She got on all fours and slowly crawled over to her, not looking away for one second. Her hips slowly rolled left and right, her hourglass shape showing perfectly. She was almost feline-like, her eyeliner accentuating this feature even more. When she got there, she came up on her knees, face to face with Reg, who was pleased. "Good girl." she murmured, swiping a loose strand of hair behind the brunette's ear and caressing her face proudly. She then unclasped the rocker chain from the waist of her pants and applied it to Frida's neck as if it was a million-pound designer necklace. The metal was again cold on the heated skin, but she still couldn't have cared less. She enjoyed being the centre of Regina's desire and attention. Reg attached the other chain to the newly found collar, turning it into a leash.
"Do I look good?" Frida purred, looking up at Regina with curiosity.
"You look wonderful, babe... but you'll look even better if you take that dress off."
The brunette wanted to get rid of the dress too, of course. She wanted to show off her perfect figure, but she was also intrigued by what shall happen if she doesn't do as said. She thought it's worth a try. "And what if I don't?"
The answer was a sharp tug on the leash, making her squeal, lose balance and almost fall over to the ground, off the bed. "Do. It." Regina wasn't angry with her, she seemed to enjoy that she had the chance to show off what a power she gained over her kitten. Or at least that's what the little smirk in the corner of her lips supposedly stood for. Frida then obeyed and removed her dress, revealing her other breast and her gorgeous stomach with her jewelled navel. She looked like the sweetest little fucktoy... but Regina never forgot that this was only their first night together and even though she wanted to make sure she remembers it, she also didn't want to overwhelm her.
"See, I knew you'd be even more beautiful like this. Come down now. On the ground." she ordered again, and Frida, without a word, but with slight whimpers, obeyed. Her manicured nails clicked on the wooden floor, what an unusual place for a superstar to be. She nuzzled her head against Regina's crotch and kept whimpering quietly.
"What's the matter, baby, hm?" Reg asked in the kindest tone possible. "I feel so exposed and you're still fully clothed." Frida pouted, running her hand up the right leg of the suit pants. Her eyes begged so irresistibly.
Reg sighed. "You're right. Also, I don't think I'll need these for what's gonna happen next." she said as she undid her pants and let them drop to the ground, then kicking them away. Her panties were made of the same black mesh material as her bra that suited her so well. Frida's eyes lit up at the 'what's gonna happen next' part – she hoped she could see a more vulnerable side of Reg soon, as she knew it was already lingering around somewhere near. It made her especially excited to see Reg unclasp her bra expertly with one hand and letting it fall on the ground, revealing her perky breasts. She got hold of them and gave them a comfortable, teasing squish that made Frida hum with enjoyment. Only the panties were left. She very slowly slid them down and once they got to her ankles, Frida stole them before she could've kicked them away. Regina gave her an interested look. The brunette held the underwear to her mouth, giving it a couple of licks to get an idea of what Reg may taste like.
The blonde snorted at the desperate sight. It amazed her how Frida went from an overly confident goddess to such a little... pet. She wasn't sure how long the 'good girl' phase was going to last so she decided on using the situation to the fullest.
She sat by the end of the bed and spread her legs, laying her right hand's fingers on her pussy and rubbing it very slowly. "I see you like my panties." she smirked, making Frida look over and crawl closer. "Try them on for me, will you? I want to see how good your ass looks in them."
Frida, mesmerized by the sight, ran her nails over Reg's soft, pale inner thighs. She planted a chaste kiss on the drummer's knee. "How about I taste you first, hm? You're drip-"
"I don't think you're in position to try and negotiate, Frida. Put them on."
The singer, admitting that she really wasn't in a negotiating position, slid the panties on, the wet patch on the fabric being cold against her precious little cunt, making her squirm. However, she did like the way the panties looked on her, she's never worn anyone else's underwear before and she enjoyed the action that she would've normally found a bad idea. But that night wasn't a regular one. She crawled over to the mirror to take a look at herself, also giving Reg a great glimpse at her fleshy ass. She bit her lip. "Mhhmm, very good, now come back. You behave so well, I'm gonna have to reward you for it." The thought of another orgasm excited Frida, but for the moment she was most thrilled about finally laying her tongue on Regina's dripping pussy. So she crawled back between her legs and looked up at her pleadingly.
"A little bird told me you're very good with your tongue, you know... But I'd like to know... whether the bird was a liar or not." Reg smiled smugly at the beautiful brunette and she again pulled on the leash harshly to finally feel the tongue lay flat against her rosy slit and lick up from her entrance to her clit in one soothing motion. It triggered a relieved sigh and she spread her legs even wider. Frida worked her tongue dexterously on Regina, proving to her that the bird was not a liar, constantly teasing her inner thighs with the tips of her nails, giving her goosebumps. She sucked on her skin hungrily, triggering a "fuck, yes" from Reg that motivated the brunette to get back to the clit against which she flicked her tongue. Her saliva mixed with the juices, slurping up every last drop meticulously. She then decided on laying her thumb on the clit and massaging it in circular motions while her tongue slid up and down her labia, kissing them and biting down gently. The tip then wandered to her entrance again, and she licked into her, making Reg groan loudly. She looked over to the mirror and saw the scenario from a completely different angle – this was the part where she lost it. "That's it baby, ah don't stop" she pulled on the leash again and again, bucking her hips insanely, grinding herself against the tongue, smothering poor Frida (a/n: I'd love to be this poor), making her fuck her deeper, wilder. Her finger circled faster, her lips curved into a smirk and she did all she could to finish the blonde off.
Her efforts paid off – Regina came with a deafeningly loud moan, her arms not able to keep her up anymore, shaking with pleasure and letting her down, upper body plopping on the bed. Frida crawled atop her, giving her a dirty, wet kiss, only to then pull away and lick her lips clean clockwise, in a very obscene way. She settled on Reg's lap, clearly pleased with her triumph over her. She watched the drummer's soul return into her body slowly, opening her eyes, pleased with the fact that Frida was the first thing she saw when her blurry vision turned sharp – this is what Heaven is probably like.
The 'good girl' phase was clearly over, she unclasped the chain from around her neck, throwing it across the room, having it land with an earsplitting clinking sound. She raised her hand to her mouth, laying her still wet thumb on her vivid pink tongue, twirling it around the digit, sucking it in greedily. The finger slid down the middle of her body, between her breasts, over her gemmed belly button, down to the panties. Regina watched with hunger in her eyes. "God fucking damn it" she mumbled, sitting up and reaching down, ripping the sheer material apart, freeing the prize of her desires. She pinched the clit harshly, making her goddess squeal with delight, rocking her hips to get the hand closer to her fountain. When the fingers were coated in enough wetness, Reg pushed two of them, the middle and ring ones into Frida, finally reaching into the warm tightness that she'd wanted to feel for so long by then. Her wrist was uncomfortable but she would've done anything to make Frida get there. The singer fucked herself down on the calloused fingers, rolling her hips back and forth, moving in a serpentine motion, like a cobra mesmerizing its victim. Her lips parted in pleasure, a drop of venom-like spit drizzling down her chin, over her neck to her chest. It made the tan skin glisten and Reg felt the urge to lean over and lick it up, which she enthusiastically did, intoxicating herself. She curved her fingers in just the right angle to make Frida let out a Staccato-like moan, her back arching.
The next thing Regina knew was she was pushing Frida into the mattress with her hand firm on her throat while the other kept moving erratically, fingerfucking the wet tightening hole of pleasure, hitting her G-spot over and over again. When she felt the contractions become regular, she started moving her digits in a scissoring motion, never taking her eyes off of where her hand is being swallowed up. She fell in love with the sight of the pink toy stretching around her, honest to god wishing she had a dick at this point, to feel the pulse around it and to be able to fill her with her seed, sending it in as deep as possible and watching it trickle out of her ruined cunt.
Just as Frida was about to reach her climax, Reg rose to her knees and pulled out of her, giving a harsh slap to the pussy, making her yelp with pain and squeeze her eyes shut. She whimpered, almost unintelligibly "Please, please, please", massaging her own breasts, while Reg teasingly slid her hand down to her entrance and fingered herself in front of the brunette, with the same two digits she had inside her. "Use your words, what do you want?" she heaved, her walls still sensitive from her recent orgasm. "I want you to use me" Frida's voice got unusually weak, whether from the sight of Regina's pussy taking in her fingers so eagerly or from being so close yet so far from her orgasm, we'll never know. "Use you, is that so?.. Then spread those legs wider, beautiful." Reg bit her lip, and Frida followed the instruction immediately, spreading as wide as she could. The blonde removed her fingers from herself and raised them to Frida's mouth, who devoured the glaze from them and sucked hard, as if it was a popsicle on a hot summer day and the treat was right about to melt away.
Reg moved to straddle Frida's hips, grazing herself just gently over her at first, but both of their clits were so sensitive and swollen by that point that already this small contact was moanworthy. The pleasure invited Regina to move further, bucking her hips with more pressure, with more speed. Strands of hair stuck to her sweaty neck, and she exhaled even more steam into the atmosphere of her bedroom. Frida hummed, appreciating that the blonde did the harder part of the work, since she was so close she couldn't have possibly moved at a steady pace anymore. She closed her eyes, trying to breathe evenly, concentrating on the delight building up once again in her lower stomach, sending her closer to the Moon. She still gasped out every time Reg grinded against her a little harder, giving her feedback that it is exactly what she needs in order to come undone for the second time that night. "You're close, hm?" Regina panted, balancing herself on top of her kitten, watching her fleshy tits bounce up and down at the rocking motion. The answer was just a weak moan, but it was reassuring. The blonde picked the speed up even more, increasing the force to almost bruising, and this change of manner finally woke Frida from her faint state. Her volume rose, it finally filled the space, and Reg for a second was sad that she didn't set the voice-recorder to listen to these divine sounds again on her lonelier nights.
"Open your eyes, look at me. I want you to see who's making you come so well." Reg grabbed Frida's face, turning it to her liking, staring down at the mess she's made of the girl, smirking at her power over her. A couple of thrusts later Frida screamed out loud, coming hard, doing her best not to close her eyes, struggling with it but eventually succeeding. Her brows frowned, since Regina didn't stop, not until she would reach her own peak. "That's it, you're such a good girl." she heaved, turning the pleasure of the other into almost pain. Delicious pain. "P-please Reg" Frida's body twitched with overstimulation, her abdomen contracting and relaxing rapidly, making her moan with every flex. "You wanted me to use you... then take i- aaaaahh fuuuuck" the blonde's back arched and she finally saw stars, floating in delirious satisfaction, clenching her jaw violently until she could feel the weight of her body again, coming down the hill slowly. She plumped down on the bed, her lungs still begging for air, but they slowly calmed down.
Frida watched her with amazement, never quite believing that it really, really happened. And not just anyhow – they fucking nailed it. And each other.
After a few minutes of silence, once their breathing got back to normal, Reg hovered over Frida and gave her a slow, sensual kiss on the lips.
"How did I deserve that?" she chuckled, running her fingers through Regina's messy locks, then giving her face a gentle stroke.
"By being the goddess that you are." Reg answered, giving her a flirty wink, and pecking her lips once more, quickly.
They laid there together, content, satisfied, endorphin-filled. Instead of chatting away about whatever awkward topic people can come up post-sex, they just hummed, sometimes even sang, legs on legs, Regina drumming on her thighs with her hands in the meantime. They did mess the vocals or the lyrics up once or twice, that led to contagious laughter, reverbing into the night.
The moon shone brightly with the stars as her royal household, surrounding her, highlighting her beauty with every last bit of their luminosity. They knew that it may have been their first time – but it certainly wasn't the last.