Just a little intro to each of my Pitt ocs while I try to work on some fics for them...
Theodora 'Theo' Parish | B. November 23rd 1988 at Saint Anthony Hospital, Chicago, Illinois to an unnamed mother | Adopted by Nicole and Ethan Parish | Fostered by Lydia and Jude Hudson | 5’7 | Dark brown eyes | Type 3c/4a black hair
steady hands • mint • falling asleep in a crowded room • hates silence • running through the rain
Alana Adama | B. May 20th 1993 at Huntington Hospital, Pasadena, California to Noor and Charan Adama | Sister of Priya and Serena Adama | 5'5 | Dark brown eyes | Type 2b black hair
sarcasm • horror movies • an extra blanket • death stares • wearing pastels • killer eyeliner
Gianna De Angelis | B. February 2nd 1995 at AHN West Penn Hospital, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, to Simone and Marco De Angelis | Sister of Leo, Sofia and Joey De Angelis | 5'10 | Brown eyes | Type 2a black hair
orange juice • hoodie collection • scattered tattoos • gives the best hugs • windows down and music loud
Summer Zajac | B. October 4th 1996 at Henry Ford St. John Hospital, Detroit, Boston, to Lian and Jakub Zajac | 5'3 | Light brown eyes | Type 1c dark brown hair
Charlie Fischer | B. April 12th 2003 at NewYork-Presbyterian Queens Hospital, Queens, New York to Felicity and Aaron Fischer | 5'8 | Grey eyes | Type 2c blonde hair
odd socks • all day breakfast • mischief in her smile • headphones on • feed those you love
Thalia Guzmán | B. September 11th 1987 at The Hospital of Providence Memorial Campus, El Paso, Texas, to Valeria and Raphael Guzmán | Sister of Enzo Guzmán | 5'8 | Brown eyes | Type 2a dark brown hair
Yerin Han | B. June 27th 1998 at UW Medical Centre - Montlake, Seattle, Washington, to Nari and Eunho Han | Sister of Jaewon Han | 5'4 | Dark brown eyes | Type 1a black hair
first snowfall • three books open at once • iced coffee • ambidextrous • cold hands, warm heart
Rosalie Mulligan | B. August 22nd 1990 at Pennsylvania Hospital, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to Clare and Stephen Mulligan | Sister to Daniel, Adam and Benjamin Mulligan | 5'5 | Brown eyes | Type 3b red hair
secret keeper • mismatched earrings • sentimental • poker face • a constellation of freckles
Nazeera Khatib | B. December 16th 1991 at HMH Hackensack University Medical Centre, East Rutherford, New Jersey to Faiza and Abdul Khatib | Sister of Zoya Khatib | 5'6 | Green eyes with a brown starburst round the pupil | Type 2c brown hair
golden • loves dogs • paint stains • laces double knotted • long skirts and combat boots
the pitt oc taglist: @itwasrealtome @margaretsbrunch
gentle reminder that you’re still a writer even if you haven’t written in days. or weeks. or months. or if you take a long break and don’t write in years.
Adventures in Teaching: If you Like P.E. Coladas !!!NSFW!!!
Melissa Schemmenti x fem!reader
Word count: 4,942
Content Warning(s): MDNI; SMUT, oral (both receiving), strap-on use (R receiving), a bit of edging/orgasm denial, slight overstim, hand holding, lots of praise and use of 'good girl', slight crying kink, soft dom Mel, bratty reader, insecure reader, soft Mel, Barb is sick of these two fr, alcohol consumption and intoxication, one use of Y/N, my BPD has started to noticeably infiltrate the narrative rip
Summary: You start off PECSA weekend with an iced latte and a hangover. After a few too many "P. E. Coladas" and a "Matharita" chugging competition, you leave with a bottle of Gatorade, another hangover...and a slight limp.
A/N: I'm baaaaack!! The past month has been the most confusing and stressful time of my life and I'm so glad it's over. Anyway, the preview I gave ya'll of this oneshot pointed to a more dominant Mel, however I ended up going in a completely different direction, and I hope you still like it!
Playlist
Masterlist
Taglist: @deathbylesbianwitches @xxphilocalistxx
Saturday morning hits you like a semi truck.
A dark, bulky pair of sunglasses sits on the bridge of your nose as you sip an iced latte. You’re quiet as you walk beside Melissa and Barbara, signing in, grabbing a tote bag, flitting from vendor to vendor. The fluorescent lights above you send a jolt of pain through your head and you wince.
“PECSA Weekend, Jacob! Oh, my God!”
Janine and Jacob are squealing as they jump around, eyes wide and childlike. They stop in front of the three of you and you lift your pointer finger to your lip, shushing them quietly.
“Are you hungover?” Janine asks.
“We checked in early last night,” you mumble. “PECSA Pregame.”
“I wish I had a Time-Turner, ‘cause like Aerosmith I don’t wanna miss a thing!” Janine beams, flipping through her binder. “Although, I might have to miss this big party.”
“Oh, you’re not missing PECSA-geddon!” Melissa snaps. “Who’s supposed to watch our purses?”
Barbara nods. “The party is the one thang you don’t wanna miss.”
“Barb, cover us,” Melissa mumbles, pulling your attention to a table behind you where snacks and bottles of water sit.
“But I have to find time to see the Living Classroom–the one the Philadelphia Flower Show made.” Janine scrunches her eyebrows as the two of you begin shoveling water and snacks into your tote bags while Barbara guards you. “Anyway, so, it’s this classroom, and it’s all made out of flowers a–”
“Janine,” Barbara sighs, eyes darting around the room, “we are only here to show face so that people remember they saw us. Then we kick it into spa mode”
“And my spa mode is happening à la mode,” Melissa grins, and pops up from behind Barbara, “‘cause I’m gonna eat ice cream in the hot tub.”
“A lot of things happen in that hot tub,” you mumble, sipping on your latte as Melissa nods solemnly.
Before the three of you leave the room, you stop at the doors. Your head throbs as Melissa calls out to the crowd, grabbing a man’s lanyard and briefly reading it.
“I, Melissa Schemmenti of Abbot Elementary, am enjoying connecting with my peers!” she shouts. “Including this guy–Derrick, from some other school in Philadelphia!”
Barbara smiles brightly beside you. “And I, Barbara Howard, have already mentored seven young teachers! Huzzah!”
You grab her hand with your free one and raise your arms in the air. “And I, Y/N L/N, have had the honor and privilege of being mentored by Barbara Howard.” You drop your arms and unlink your hands, face dropping. “Alright, let’s go,” you mutter. “I need a nap.”
After a Benadryl and two over-the-counter migraine pills, you’re waking up from your nap in the evening with drool on your pillow and your hangover mostly gone. The room is quiet after Melissa went down to the pool with Barbara earlier, leaving you with a kiss on your head as you mumbled incoherent words into your pillow.
You quickly slip a bathing suit on with a cover-up over top of it and make your way down to the lobby–with a quick trip to the bar for what was listed as a “P. E. Colada”.
When you walk through the door of the indoor pool, you see Melissa’s face immediately light up.
“Mornin’ Sleeping Beauty,” she grins. “How was your nap?”
You kiss the top of her head before taking a seat in a lounge chair. “Well, I woke up with drool on my pillow, so I guess it was good.”
“Those are the best kind of naps,” Barbara smiles, and the three of you clink your glasses together. “To PECSA Weekend!”
At six, Barbara leaves the two of you to check and see if the mini bar in her room has been restocked.
With your second Piña Colada in hand, you slowly descend the steps into the pool, knowing full well that Melissa is watching you every step of the way.
“Careful, hon,” she says. “There’s no lifeguard on duty…Wouldn’t wanna have to resuscitate you if something happened.”
You grin, facing her and resting your arms on the edge of the pool. “Oh, I dunno…I wouldn’t mind some mouth-to-mouth from you.”
She snickers. “I know you wouldn’t.”
“So, are you going to join me?” you ask.
Melissa sets her drink down on the table beside her. “Well, when you look at me like that, how can I say no?”
Biting the inside of your lip, you watch as she removes her cover-up, going so slowly that it might as well be a strip tease.
Your arms immediately wrap around her neck when she’s in the water, pulling her in close and kissing her hard. “Thank God we’re the only ones here.”
“Jesus, what do they put in those Piña Coladas?” she murmurs before you pull her back in.
“Sweet Jesus!”
You pull apart quickly at the sound of Barbara announcing her presence.
“I’ve been gone for ten minutes!” she says.
“What are you doin’ back here, Barb?” Melissa huffs.
“I forgot my room key,” she answers pointedly, swiping it off the table. “And I’d suggest you get yourselves together, ‘cause I just saw a couple Addington teachers with their bathing suits on their way over–and the last thing we need at Abbot is a scandal.”
The two of you laugh all the way back to your room. You wipe a tear away and giggle as Melissa unlocks the door. “Did you see her face? Poor Barbara…”
You’re fresh out of the shower with your dress on and a face full of makeup. You crouch down and raid the mini bar while waiting for Melissa to finish in the bathroom.
You unscrew the cap on a mini bottle of rosé and down half of it in one go.
“You started without me?” Melissa comes out of the bathroom with her hair in curlers and dressed in nothing but a towel.
“There’s plenty to go around, honey,” you say, watching in delight as she bends over to dig through her small suitcase.
By the time she’s ready, it’s nearing eight and you’re meeting Barbara in the lobby.
“Well, don’t you two look lovely,” she smiles, and her finger swipes at her chin as she lowers her voice. “Both of your lipsticks are smudged, by the way.”
After you and Melissa fixed your lipsticks (and almost ruined them yet again), you find Barbara at the bar with her first “Matharita” of the night. She hands the two of you your drinks and you make your way into PECSA-geddon, where it seems like every table is taken.
By the time you’re finished with the first lap around the room, you’re getting your second round of drinks from the bar. Melissa stands beside you, hand around your waist and elbow resting on the bar countertop. She wears a lopsided grin, eyes darting down at your lips every now and then as you go on a tangent about the ending of the latest book you’ve read.
“Oh, my God–Melissa?” The bartender–no more than 27 or 28–stands across from you, martini shaker in hand and his eyes wide.
You stop talking as she stands up straight as a board, mouth open as she tries to speak. “I–Um–Hey…”
The bartender relaxes, but you don’t. “Who’s this?” you ask.
Melissa swishes her lips side to side as she comes up with an answer. “Um–”
“Oh, we hooked up a couple years ago during PECSA weekend,” he shrugs.
“Oh?” you say, turning toward her as you pick up your cosmo and take a sip. Your lips are tight and your eyebrows raise as you study her.
The bartender glances down as immediately sees her hand on your waist. “Oh, shit! I’m sorry, bro! I didn’t know you two were–I never would’ve brought it up–!”
“It’s alright, honey,” you say, not looking at him and keeping your lips curled and eyes trained on Melissa as she tries to not look at you.
Through thick tension, another bartender hands Melissa her drink and she downs it immediately, handing the glass back. “Can I have another?”
The tension has simmered down and Melissa’s hand is on your lower back as she escorts you back over to where Barbara waits for you both. She’s quiet, sipping on her drink, but you’re almost smug as you walk beside her.
“What’s got you lookin’ like that?” Barbara asks.
“Oh, Melissa had a run in with a previous PECSA hook up–the bartender,” you say.
Barbara’s eyes widen and Melissa huffs. “Can we just find a table?”
You can’t control how much you gravitate towards her now–and it’s more than usual. Yes, one of your love languages is physical touch–hers is too–but after that run-in with her little bartender, you can’t hold yourself back.
And now you’re at a table, seat pulled close to hers as she has a proper conversation with her sister for the first time in almost ten years. You’re on your third Cosmo now, and you’ve lost count how many drinks you’ve had at this point. With Melissa’s hand on your thigh, you laugh with Dawn Nichols, trying so hard with Barbara to get the in with her.
You’re just about to throw your head back at one of Dawn’s jokes when a young woman, maybe a few years older than you, approaches the table.
And Melissa’s cheeks grow pink.
“Mel, is that really you?” she asks, eyes bright and a drink in her hand. “Oh, my gosh! I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you?”
“‘Mel’?” you repeat.
And as soon as the woman’s hand rests on Melissa’s shoulder, you feel like you see green.
“Who’s this?” you ask–again–and your voice is tight.
“Oh, sorry!” the woman chuckles, clearly intoxicated by the way her words slur. “I’m Nina!”
“How do you know Melissa?” you ask. “Since she doesn’t want to join in on the conversation…”
“We had a brief fling,” Nina says simply. “What was it? PECSA 2020? Then Covid happened and we basically spent lockdown together.”
You laugh with her–a performance that should earn you an Oscar–but your fingers dig into Melissa’s thigh as you take a long drink from your glass. “So how long were you two together?” you ask with a voice sweet as sugar, and Melissa gives you a warning look.
“Not too long,” she shrugs. “Maybe until August. Oh, Mel, guess who I ran into?”
“Who?” she asks, becoming noticeably disinterested.
“Xander!”
“Xander?” you chirp. “Who’s that, honey?”
“No one,” she says quickly.
Nina giggles. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous! He’s the concierge–I think. I dunno,” she slurs, “but he’s cute. He’s the guy from PECSA 2019, right?”
“Wow!” you beam. “PECSA 2019?”
“Yeah,” Nina says. “Anyway, I’ll let you guys be! It was great seeing you again, Mel!”
You bring your glass to your lips, “You sure do get around at PECSA, huh?”
Melissa can see your demeanor slowly change throughout the night. You have to admit, you do feel silly feeling this jealous over past flings and one-night stands, but it still eats away at you.
As the night progresses, Melissa is challenged to a ‘Matharita’ chugging competition. You sit there in the dress you wore for her, fingers fidgeting with your necklace as you bite your lip and cross your legs.
And you can’t take your eyes off of her as she downs every drink.
After the final one, she tosses you a wink and is crowned the victor. A feeling of warmth spreads through you and–
It turns into a fire of jealousy and uncomfortable anger as a guy–maybe in his 40’s–gets a little too close to Melissa. So, you down the rest of your drink and leave the room, going straight to the bar in the lobby.
On your way, you make eye contact with the concierge at the front who wears a bright, shining nametag that says XANDER. And once again, he can’t be more than 35-years-old. You don’t say anything, quickly walking past with a clenched jaw and tightly crossed arms.
“Cosmo or Piña Colada?” the bartender asks, grinning as she dries a glass.
“Neither,” you huff, and take out your wallet, digging out cash and setting down a fifty and a ten. “However many tequila shots this can buy–I want that many. And keep the ten, that’s yours.”
“PECSA weekend rough?” she asks, taking the money off the counter and pocketing it before taking four shot glasses and lining them up.
You sigh and take a seat. “I don’t know,” you grumble. “Just…stupid jealousy. I’ve felt it before, but not this bad.” You take one of the shots the bartender hands you and down it in one go, grimacing. “I hate this feeling. I shouldn’t even be this jealous–she wasn’t obligated to wait for me. And I knew she had previous partners. I mean–have you seen her?”
The bartender leans against the counter, smiling softly with an amused look. “Nope–Oh, is that her?”
When you turn your head, you sigh. “Yes.”
“Wow…yeah, I wouldn’t turn her down,” the bartender says, and you shoot her a look before she snickers and walks off to another customer.
As Melissa takes a seat beside you with her drink, you down another shot of tequila. “Hi,” you murmur.
“Haven’t seen you like this since the Capitals lost the playoffs last year,” she quips.
“Haha, very funny,” you say, but you feel yourself holding back a smile–very poorly as your numerous drinks catch up to you. “It was a home game too,” you mumble. “Embarrassing…”
There’s a long stretch of silence between the two of you.
“Y’know, I haven’t thought about any of those people in years,” Melissa says quietly. “I don’t even remember that bartender’s name from earlier. And I only remember Nina because we had Covid together.”
You exhale and shake your head, unable to hide your amusement.
“I love you,” she says quietly. “You know that, right?”
You sigh, looking at her tiredly. “I do…I love you too.” You look down at your hands where they fold and pick at a straw wrapper. “I don’t know why I get so jealous. Just–when she called you ‘Mel’ something snapped in me, made it personal. But I guess I’ve never been as close with any other girlfriend as I am with you. Most of them would leave when they realized they didn’t, in fact, want someone like me, and that abandonment issues aren’t as hot as they’re made out to be. Too much to handle…”
You let out a giggle, “I had one girl tell me that she thought she could ‘fix me’–like I’m some hot villain with a tragic backstory.”
“I don’t wanna fix you,” Melissa says, taking a sip of her drink. “I’ve known you since–what? 2016? 2017? Somewhere around then. I knew what I was getting myself into. And you are hot, by the way–don’t think I haven’t seen that dress you’re wearin’.” She takes another drink from her glass and sets it down, sighing. “You don’t need fixin’, hon, ‘cause you’re not broken. I love you the way you are–my hot, hypersexual, jealous girlfriend. And I don’t mind reassurin’ you that when needed.”
You smile softly, resting your head in your hand. “So, why didn’t you tell me about your PECSA exploits?”
“I dunno,” Melissa shrugs. “I guess I was just tryin’ to forget them, y’know? I’m not ashamed, but I was goin’ through stuff, filled the void with sex–I mean, there’s only so much you can do with a vibrator,” she mumbles.
You giggle and feel your shoulders relax. “How many people in this hotel have you slept with?” you ask carefully.
“Sweetie, when I answer this,” she says, “I want you to keep in mind that I’ve been goin’ to PECSA for almost thirty years.”
“Just tell me,” you say.
“Off the top of my head, at least two bartenders, a few front-desk people, I dunno how many teachers,” she rambles on. “Mostly hotel staff, though–less likely to run into them, especially at district budget meetings.”
You giggle. “Jesus, Mel, did you get our room for free from your Hilton points or from various favors the staff owes you?”
You both laugh and you can feel the tension in your body dissipating as you rest your head on her shoulder. She places a kiss on your head and sighs. “I promise, not a single person I’ve been with can compare to you. You’ve got more personality than all of them combined.”
You let out a heavy sigh as you sit up. “You’re right. I don’t know why I felt so threatened by Gary, though–because you clearly have a type.”
And with a grin, you stand up and down another shot of tequila. You set the glass down and you lean into her ear, voice low and fingers brushing her thigh. “If you’re not upstairs in ten minutes, I’m starting without you.”
“Like hell you are,” she mutters as you walk away, and she downs the last shot of tequila and sets the empty glass on the counter.
Melissa catches up in the hallway quickly, hand grabbing yours and spinning you to face her. Your lips crash together with a mixture of laughter, teeth, and tongue as you’re pushed against the wall.
Your hand runs over the smooth paint and lands on a door handle. When you push down you trip backwards into a dimly lit room, smelling strongly of flowers, and Melissa catches you by the waist.
“Oh, my God!” You giggle as she begins kissing down your neck, and when you turn your head, you gasp.
Janine and Gregory stand in the Living Classroom, awkwardly looking at the two of you.
“Oh, shit,” Melissa mutters. “Oops!”
As she giggles and pulls you away, you apologize to them quickly and shut the door. The next thing you know, she has you pinned against the wall of the elevator, lipsticks beyond ruined as her hands grab at every inch of you.
When the elevator dings, your hearts are racing as you watch someone with a very red face quickly exit before you.
“When the fuck did she get on?” Melissa huffs.
You let out an airy laugh and drag her down a few doors. With her lips on yours, you manage to unlock the door. It slams loudly when Melissa kicks it shut, before she pins you against the counter of the mini bar.
Her lips trail down your neck and her hands quickly pull down the zipper of your dress. Your chest heaves as your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, quiet moans slipping out from you as her teeth nip at your neck.
Your dress pools at your ankles and Melissa’s hand runs up your neck, stopping to grip your jaw softly as she forces you to look her in the eyes.
“I hope you know how much I love you,” she murmurs, kissing you softly.
You slowly drop to your knees, eyes up and trained on her face as you lift the skirt of her dress. You kiss up her thighs and take in her scent as your fingers hook around the waistband of her underwear and pull them down.
Melissa’s fingers thread through your hair, tugging gently as hums. “Good girl…I didn’t even have to tell you.”
Your tongue swipes through her folds and you can’t help the moan that escapes you. You watch her lean forward, one hand on your head and the other clutching the edge of the countertop as her eyes close.
As your mouth works, you feel your knees beginning to ache. A whimper escapes you and her fingers tug on your hair tightly.
“Keep goin’,” Melissa breathes, and a quiet gasp follows shortly after. “Right there–don’t stop! Fuck!”
Her legs tremble as you lick her through her climax, only pulling away when she forces you to. She tugs you up by your hair and as her lips crash into yours, you feel the edge of the counter dig into your lower back.
“Good–fucking–girl,” she says in between kisses.
Melissa turns you around and you manage to trip over your dress before she pushes you onto the bed. You land on your front, crawling on your hands and knees until you’re in the center of the bed.
She begins to remove her dress and you turn your head to look at her, biting the inside of your lip in anticipation. But she stops abruptly with a raised eyebrow. “No peeking,” she drawls. “Turn that cute face back around, hon.”
You huff, but obey–even when you hear the sound of her suitcase unzipping. The feeling of her cold hands on your hips makes you shiver, and you can hear a low chuckle behind you. Her lips skim over your spine before she sits up, bringing your hips into a raised position.
A quiet gasp escapes your lips when Melissa’s nails scratch down your thighs, gripping them tightly. “Spread your legs, baby,” she says, and when you do, she lets out a low chuckle. “Good girl…”
Your eyes are trained on the headboard in front of you, until you feel the soft caress of her tongue through your folds. Your head drops onto the pillow and you take in a sharp breath, curses slipping from your mouth as she hums into you.
Melissa’s tongue continues slowly, never giving you more than you want. When your legs begin to tremble, you can hear–and feel–her chuckle into you. She sits up, kissing over your back as she reaches down and slips a finger inside. “Look at that,” she gasps quietly. “You’re so wet for me already…” As she curls her finger, she leans down into your ear, pressing a kiss just below it. “Good girl…Now, turn over for me.”
Melissa slips out her finger and you watch as she positions herself between your legs and licks her finger clean. She leans down, kissing up your chest and neck until she reaches your lips. When she pulls away, her hand holds your face, fingers digging into your cheeks. “You are absolutely adorable like this.”
“Like what?” you ask, voice airy as Melissa kisses the corner of your mouth.
She chuckles as you raise your hips in a desperate attempt to seek friction. “Like this–desperate and shaking,” she mutters into your jaw, lips skimming over the surface. “I could keep you like this forever and it’d never get old.”
“You might as well keep me like this forever,” you breathe. “I–Oh!” Your back arches as her fingers circle your clit.
“Finish what you were saying,” she says, lips brushing your neck.
“I think I’m–” You struggle to get through your words. “I’m in this–position in bed more than I am asleep–fuck!”
Melissa gets lower and lower and soon she’s smirking into your pussy. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her tongue is just as slow as it was when you were on your knees. She takes immense delight in the way you squirm beneath her, breath quick and hands looking for something–anything– to grab onto.
Melissa makes the decision for you and grabs your hand tightly, lacing her fingers with yours. With her other, she holds your leg open and ravishes you. Your head falls back into the pillow as you drift into that fuzzy, floating feeling, clinging to her hand to keep you grounded.
You choke on air and your hand clasps over your mouth before reaching to brace against the headboard. As you get closer and closer, your hips jerk and falter, succumbing to the force of her hands holding them down.
“Do you wanna cum?” she asks.
“Mmhm…” You nod your head and a moan slips from your lips.
You feel Melissa squeeze your hand. “I need to hear a ‘yes’, baby.”
It takes everything in you to get out the proper words–to beg her to let you cum after keeping you on the brink for the past who-knows-how-long. But you do find those words, you do let out a pathetic whine, and your legs shake in her grasp as your entire body tenses.
“Good girl…” Melissa’s voice is soft as she talks you through it, hands roaming over your blazing skin and the scent of sex and perfume engulfing your senses as she kisses you softly. You feel her smile against your lips as you gasp and jolt when you feel the tip of the strap brush against you.
A chill runs through her as your nails dig into her skin. “If you want something, all you have to do is ask,” she says softly, lips peppering kisses over your cheeks and down your neck.
Your mind is fuzzy as your body jolts through the overstimulation of the strap running through your folds. Mindless words are mumbled and none of them are coherent.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” Melissa mutters just beside your ear, and you can feel her nose brush your hair.
A pitiful moan escapes you as the strap presses against your entrance.
“I know, baby, but I need to hear you say it,” she insists. She sits up and her hand goes to your face, holding it steady. “Look at me–good.” She teases you, the strap just barely sinking into you as you whine. “If you want more, you need to tell me.”
The emotional and physical intimacy as Melissa teases you, chokes you with tears. Your eyes water and your voice wavers. “I want more, please–!” You gasp as she pushes in more, but not nearly enough.
She leans down, kissing away the tears that drip down your temples. “Again,” she mutters.
“Melissa, please!” you sob, pushing your hips up to meet her halfway. “Please, I want you to fuck me! Please!”
She lets out a pleased hum when you pull her down for a kiss in a haze of desperation, love, and lust.
“Please,” you murmur into the kisses. “Please–fuck me–Oh, my God!” Your head falls back as she rewards your begging with a sharp thrust.
One hand holds yours, pinning it above your head as she uses you for balance, and the other grips behind your knee tightly. You cling to her desperately with your nails digging into her shoulder as she kisses you hard. Melissa swallows every moan and every cry that you let slip.
Without thinking, your free hand snakes down, fingers running over your clit quickly.
“You touchin’ yourself?” she says, huffing out a laugh as you whimper and nod. “Good girl…Just like that.”
Your eyes squeeze shut as your back arches off the bed and into her front. A loud moan escapes from you and the sound of it seems to invigorate Melissa as she speeds up, and an endless stream of moans and cries slip from your mouth.
“Are you gonna cum for me?” she asks, her pace never faltering.
You nod and tears drip down your temples as your eyes squeeze shut. “Yes–fuck–yes!” A kiss is pressed hard to your lips and you whine into it. “Oh my god–I love you–I love you–!”
Melissa kisses you, both of you panting, chests rising and falling rapidly. “Fuck, I love you too,” she huffs. “Keep goin’…That’s it, baby…”
It’s like an out of body experience, the way you shake and moan beneath her. Your legs tremble and your breathing is ragged as she leaves soft kisses over your body, easing you down from your climax.
The next time you check the time, it’s nearing five in the morning. You lay there, out of breath and basking in the post-sex haze.
Melissa’s hand rests on your high, thumb stroking over the skin as she kisses the side of your head. “I’m sorry if any of those people made you feel like you weren’t good enough…”
You pull away just enough to look at her. “No, it’s okay,” you mumble, eyelids heavy. “You weren’t obligated to wait for me, Mel. It’s just stupid insecurities that I’ll learn to get over…”
“Okay,” she mumbles, eyes soft in the low lamplight as she scans your face briefly. “Y’know, I wasn’t lyin’ earlier. I do love you the way you are. You aren’t too much to handle–not one bit.”
The teachers’ lounge is quiet come Monday morning.
You sit across from Melissa and Barbara, who drink their coffees silently, and you’re fairly certain you’re still hungover from Saturday; the fluorescent lights seem far too bright and just the sound of the coffee maker makes you want to rip it out of the wall and chuck it across the room.
The door swings open and Ava struts in, her grin turning into a grimace. “Damn, what’s happened to her?” she asks, looking at you cautiously.
“Day two of a hangover,” Melissa grumbles.
“Might as well be three,” you sigh, enjoying the cold feeling of the table on your cheek. “I was hungover Saturday morning too.”
Ava continues flippantly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “So, this weekend was juicy…” she says expectantly. “That’s right…I got the tea and the cup. So, I heard about a very interesting hookup this weekend, involving someone in this very room.” No one’s responding and she’s becoming annoyed as she walks around to each of the tables. “They were teachers…I heard someone made out…In the elevator!” She huffs and spins around to face the pair of you. “Melissa, I know it was you two!”
Melissa leans back in her chair, arm draped over the back as she smirks. “Damn right it was.” She raises her coffee in the air as if making a toast. “Long live PECSA Weekend.”
some days you’ll effortlessly write 3k words of perfectly coherent sentences with stunning metaphors and perfect grammar, and some days you’ll rewrite “the table was red” 32 times and not be able to get a single sentence right.
both are valid. both are progress. and you shouldn’t beat yourself up if you’re experiencing the second one.
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