they should make a version of socializing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re still the weird 12 year old kid that doesn’t know why she’s not normal like the other kids
listen i consider myself an empathic person but after a certain point i get sick of other people’s problems. my friend is always talking about how the jewel-eyed skull on their mantlepiece is tormenting them w its sinister beauty and im over it. like dude i don’t want to talk about this anymore. get rid of the fucking skull
it's okay to let the absurdly sexy temptress drag you into her web of lust and allure. she just wants to feel desired, and who are you to deny her that?
it's just really apparent that people think it's okay to want pain but morally abhorrent to want to give it. sorry but the sadist gets to have fun too. it's actually pretty crucial to the process.
Image ID: A screenshot of a tumblr comment that says "yeah, its only abhorrent imo, when the recipient is non consenting, i've" the screenshot cuts off.
sometimes i can’t stop liking my mutuals posts and i get really insecure like i do not mean to bother you i just agree with everything you say. and i love you
Out of the following movies covered by MST3K, which of them would say is the most painful one to watch:
Monster-A-Go Go
‘Manos’ The Hands of Fate
Invasion of the Neptune Men, or,
Hobgoblins ?
Ugh, probably Monster-A-Go-Go just because it's so incomprehensible and the ending is just a middle finger to the audience. Manos has a creepy energy to it even if the movie is bad - as Joel put it "Everyone in this movie looks like someone's last known photo." Neptune Men is incredibly boring, but at least has some silly moments to bolster it a bit. And Hobgoblins is bad, but in a delightful "Yeah, this movie knows it's crap and they're just having a fun time with how crap it is."
Rosa, an overworked cafe owner has her plans for a relaxing evening go down the drain when a massive storm leaves her stranded at work. Even the quiet solitude of being alone in her cozy cafe vanishes when Emmie, a customer with more muscle than social awareness, comes in soaking wet and seeking shelter from the storm. Isolated without power, and handling this sudden intrusion, will Rosa be able to salvage her evening?
"Mr. Play-It-Safe was afraid to fly." Rosa quietly sang along with her playlist. "He waited his whole damn life to take that flight." The wet slap of her rag hitting the table joined the verse. "And as the plane crashed down, he thought, "Well, isn't this nice?" The squeaking of her attack on a stubborn stain. "And isn't it ironic, don't you think?" The rag fell into the bucket with a splash.
Rosa took in the large table that was the cafe's centerpiece; rings upon rings of glistening spirals around its larger circumference. She could almost hear the laughter, clattering of dice, and the clinking of mugs from patrons who felt safe enough to treat this as a second home. Or, for some, a first.
"That just leaves drying, wiping down the stainless, and mopping." With each item she counted off, she touched a deep-red fingernail to a digit on the opposite hand.
She smiled, matching red lips complimenting the warm undertones of her skin, and began itemizing again. "Then it's 'hello' recliner, last of that chicken soup, and all the procedurals I want." She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh. Her tired legs could almost feel the worn pleather of her favorite seat.
The tinkling of a bell was the sound of the shards of her broken daydream shattering on the floor.
In the time it took Rosa to turn around, she'd exchanged her look of horror for her well-practaced expression of customer service.
"So sorry, but I'm afraid we're closed."
This new woman, boots splashing in the puddles made from the rainwater streaming off her soaked body, dominated her entryway. Towering height offset only by hunched posture that accompanies the weight of the soaked clothes clinging tightly to her broad shoulders and chest. Face, unreadable behind the prison bars of matted hair.
With one, large hand, she slicked back her saturated hair, and gradually revealed an earnest expression of apologetic shock. As if she was just as surprised to be there as the woman whose establishment she'd barged into.
"You are? But you guys are always open around now." Her voice deep, but restrained. She wiped off the face of her sports watch with a dripping finger and stared for a moment. Then, reopened the door, stuck her body back out into the storm far enough to see the posted hours, before pulling herself back inside. Hair, once again, a mess and all the water she'd lost to the floor, replenished. "It says you close at seven?"
"Yes," responded Rosa. "Six AM to Seven PM, Wednesday to Sunday."
The woman looked from her watch, to Rosa, back to her watch, then grabbed the handle of the door again.
"It's Monday!" Rosa's cracked as the entry bell jangled. Clearing her throat, she slipped back into her more professional tone. "It is Monday. The day on which we close early for deep cleaning, so that when we open again on Wednesday morning, everything is ready for the week ahead."
Even the slight tinge of blue seemed to drain from the woman's face as she realized her transgression. "Oh my god. I'm so, so sorry. Don't worry, I won't even order anything. Wait! No. I'll order tons! Whichever is better for you."
"I'm afraid the kitchen is already closed." A line Rosa was all-too familiar saying.
The woman's hand began fishing in a waterlogged pocket. "I'll just, um, can I give you a tip? Like, pay, I mean. I just need to get out of the storm for a bit.
"Listen," said Rosa. "I don't want to be rude, I'm not going to be here much longer. The last thing I have to do is clean the floors, so I'm sure you can imagine how an additional person dripping on them would complicate that. I'll be happy to have you back on Wednesday. I'll even throw in whatever drink you want, on the house. But, for now, it's for the best that we each get back to our respective homes. Okay?"
"Alright," replied the woman. "But that is going to be difficult. What with the roads being closed and all."
"Excuse me?" Rosa's voice creaked like an overnight guitar string ready to snap.
"Yeah. Didn't you see? Storm was so bad that they closed all the roads. Wind is nasty too."
"Why didn't you open with that?!" Rosa rushed to grab her phone and deactivate the Airplane setting. Her screen was quickly overrun. Blasts from the weather service confirming the news. Texts from her assistant manager to see if she was okay. As a last ditch resort, she checked the local online groups in the hopes of finding someone posting about accessible roads. All she saw was townies complaining and a slew of memes that would have been funny had she been viewing them from the comfort of her recliner.
"No. No no no no no no no no no no." It felt like her evening plans were washing down the sewer grates. She lowered her glasses slightly to pinch the bridge of her nose and started pacing. She didn't notice the woman in her entryway as her eyes followed the length of Rosa's braid to her waist. And how she took a particular interest in the Rosa's apron tied around the slim waist of her hourglass figure.
"Hey, if you need anything, I can-"
Rosa silenced her with a single, outstretched finger. "Just give me a second." Eyes still closed, she began taking stock of her situation. First, I need text everyone so they don't worry. Cleanup still needs done; that hasn't changed. We've got chairs and quilts for sleeping, provided we're stuck all night. There's still some food in the fridge-"
The hum of her heater went dead and what little light that permeated from behind her lids vanished.
"Gotta scrap the cleaning since I can't run the vacuum. Plenty of candles in here already. Windows have already been shuttered. Water might seep in through that one spot in the kitchen, but would only be a problem if...SHIT." Rosa turned on her phone's flashlight and sprinted into the kitchen.
Bursting through the swinging door, her light went immediately to the far corner of the kitchen where shimmering puddle was creeping across the floor directly towards a pile of large burlap sacks. Rosa left her phone, light up, on the counter so she could grab the closest bag with both hands. With some effort, she swung the heavy bag over her shoulder. But the momentum threw her off balance. One of her scrambling feet landed in the oncoming stream, slipped, and sent her wheeling backwards.
Rosa squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the impact.
The cold, wet thud she was expecting. But she hadn't anticipated it would be so soft. Rosa opened her eyes to see the woman looking down at her with a nervous smile.
"Sorry, didn't mean to grab ya. Just saw you catch some air and eager wanted to make sure sure you didn't crack your head." She lifted the bag of coffee beans off Rosa's shoulder with one arm while supporting her with the other. "Where did you want this?"
"The counter is fine," said the disoriented Rosa while she steadied herself.
"Got it!" Once she was sure Rosa had regained her footing, the gently placed the bag out of the water's reach. Then stride over to the pile and casually picked up one bag after another to nearly stack on freshly cleaned counter. "That everything?"
"Yes, thank you." Rosa put her hands on her hips and surveyed the kitchen. "Drain in the floor should stop the water from doing any real harm, and it's not like I wasn't going to mop anyway." She strode to closet and pulled out a large tshirt and apron which she tossed to her rescuer. "Here. Get yourself out of those wet clothes before you catch cold. You can hang them off the divider in the sink. Change into these. Clean rags on the shelf behind you will have to do for towels. When you're done, meet me back in the main room." With that, she turned around, gathered up and armful of items from the kitchen, then disappeared back through the swinging door.
A few minutes of wriggling out of wet clothes and into the fresh replacements, and she stepped back out to see the cafe transformed.
The myriad of candles, thought purely decorative, now played together as they filled the room with energy as much as light. And at the far side of the room, bright and warm enough to conduct this symphony of light and warmth, was the antique fireplace attended to by Rosa.
How could anyone not approach? How could anyone with such bulk not announce herself with every step? How could one not be halted when this firekeeper spoke, even if she didn't look away from her charge? "I'm sorry," said Rosa. Her voice soft but clear. "You needed somewhere safe and I was willing to toss you back out. It's not like me. I can blame stress, but I don't know if that absolves me at all. But you still helped me. I'm grateful. And, I'm sorry."
"Are you kidding? You were closed but I barged in and made a mess like the damn Kool-Aid Man. Least I could do is toss your beans." Her face fell from an awkward smile to a look of contemplation as she worried that sounded far more euphemistic than she intended.
"That's so embarrassing," Rosa said without looking up. "I promise, I never served anyone puddle coffee. The delivery just came during the lunch rush, which never really stopped rushing. Next thing I know, my workers had all finished their shifts and my floor tiles were about to get a hell of a pick-me-up."
"Oh, god. No I wasn't accusing you of anything. The couple times I've been here, everything's been great."
"Speaking of," said Rosa. "I figured you'd want some coffee, but it'll take a while before this whole setup is ready to brew anything. I've still got a manual grinder. Fireplace has an old-fashioned hook arm for kettles and grate for when the coals are ready. But, in the meantime, there's cold brew on the table.
"No, really, this is fine." She poured herself a mug. "You this is great, you really don't have to put yourself out. This is basically what I order from you guys anyways."
"I think I remember. 'Emmie,' right?"
"You recognize me?" Emmie took a self-conscious sip from her mug.
"No offense, but you make an impression," said Rosa without looking away from the fire. "Even if you didn't, that girl you'd come in here with certainly did. Blonde, tried to order like we were a Starbucks. Always grilled us about the specials, only to order a latte and a croissant anyway."
Emmie shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah... Rene. I don't... take her out for coffee anymore."
"It's because she insisted on pronouncing it, 'CRUH-SAHN,' isn't it?"
Emmie gagged, sending a fine mist of cold brew dancing through the firelight through which she could see a tired smile on Rosa's face.
Emmie felt a wave of goosebumps that didn't have anything to do having been out in the cold. Followed immediately by the acute realization that she was standing there, barefoot, poking through a shirt that was too tight, and with a pair of aprons tied around her waist is a bizarre skirt which she prayed her damp boxers wouldn't soak through.
Rosa got up, pulled out the chair closest to the fireplace and took a seat. Following suit, Emmie plopped down in the chair closest to the first.
"Hold on," said Emmie with a sudden sense of realization. "This is awkward. I still have no idea what your name is."
"It's Rosa. And don't feel bad. It's not like I wear a name tag or put it on the sign."
"So, this is like, *yours,* yours. You're not just the manager, you actually own everything?"
"Technically the bank, but it's my name on all the paperwork." Rosa poured a mug for herself.
"Wow," said Emmie. "That's so cool. You built all of this? You always on that small business hustle?"
"Not always," said Rosa into her coffee. "Was never really part of the plan. I just, needed a fresh start, you know? Had a 'Rene' of my own."
"Oh," said Emmie caught slightly off-guard. Followed by an additional, "OH," with widened eyes. "So you're..."
"I know I don't really *look* the part. Never really did. Had the bonus effect of helping me pass as, 'one of the good ones.' I'm sure you understand."
"Kind of?" Emmie folded her arms. "When you look like me, you may as well have a dyke-y neon sign on your massive shoulders. When it's screamingly obvious what you are, when you're different, you wind up in this ambassador role."
Rosa nodded. "Need to be on your absolute best behavior because everyone's holding you to these impossible standards."
"Exactly! Like, oh my god. You were listening to Alanis when I walked in, right?"
"She's my favorite." Rose was unsure where this was going.
"Her one song... I always felt so inadequate. Like I had to be this absolute ideal to even stand a chance with women. One day, I heard 'Head Over Feet' and it just HIT. This is it. I have to be THIS. I had to be brave, hold open doors, be a good listener, do things unconditionally, and deliver on any benefits a woman could want. If I could just do all of that, they couldn't help but fall for me. And, if they didn't? It's my fault. I wasn't enough because I just hadn't worked hard enough yet."
"Oh no." Rosa made no attempt to hide the pity in her voice. "That's a nice idea but that's not how it actually works. Thinking like that just gets you saddled with Karens who take advantage of you."
"You're right. I know you're right. The bitch of it though? I don't think I can be anything else at this point. It's like I'm watching myself happily make the same mistakes over and over again." She drained the last of her mug.
"I get it," said Rosa. She reached over and hesitantly placed her fingers on the tense hand gripping the empty mug. "You want so bad to just be 'good' that you build yourself entirely around it. Eventually, the role is all you are. It hollows you out."
Emmie lifted her gaze to see a look of hurt and exhaustion staring back from behind the flames reflected in Rosa's glasses. "It sounds like you've really been through it too. Wanna talk about it? You know, I am the best listener you ever met." For one, fleeting moment, a smile reached Rosa's eyes.
"Don't know how much there is to talk about. Went to college, spent too much time studying to go out. Got a corporate position where I had to work twice as hard because I'm a woman and twice as hard as that because I'm gay. Stayed with the same woman because, hey, I'm not one of those slutty lesbians. We never, ever fought because I wasn't going to be some drama queen. Then, one day, there's a house with too much space to use. Empty space on the couch because the woman sitting at the far end stopped being a partner and started just being something to be maintained. Void inside yourself because so much went to maintaining the mask that everything else just withered."
Rosa leaned back, taking her hand with her. "At that point, does it even matter if you self-destruct? Nothing is actually yours. It all belongs to this persona. This other person walking around in your skin. What else is there to do but start from scratch?"
"I came back to my home town, tail between my legs. Wanted to build something that was mine. Nest-egg account somehow managed to survive the apocalyptic event that was my life for a while, so I took the money and invested in this place. Yeah, it can be stressful but it's mine. It's me. For the first time, I'm me."
"That's awful," said Emmie. "The story, I mean. I'm glad you found your happy ending."
"Happy beginning," Rosa corrected. "Everything else was someone else's story. Now, I've finally got my own.
"Hey, if you need anything..." Emmie was cut off by a small giggle from Rosa.
"Didn't we just talk about how you need to stop being on-call for any pretty woman in your field of vision?"
"I'm pretty sure I made it very clear that I can't stop myself," said Emmie. "Besides, better I'm helping you than someone who's going to play me."
"And how do you know I'm not going to play you?" Rosa leaned in, rested her elbows on the table, and propped up her chin. "What makes you think I'm not going to use you up?"
Emmie was caught off guard. "I don't know for sure. You just feel different."
"And how would you know how I feel?" Rosa asked.
"That's not what I mean," replied Emmie. "I guess, when I caught you? Karens don't make me jump through hoops to help them! I don't know how to be anything else but helpful."
"How about we take care of each other, then?" Rosa leaned in. "Listen. We are both unattached adults. We are stuck in a space I have built from the ground up to be as cozy as possible. There's candlelight. There's a fire. You're rebounding. I'm, let's just say I've been too busy for much else."
Emmie froze. "Wait. Are you sure? You'd want to do that with me?"
"You don't have to," said Rosa. "I'm not going to hold you here and force myself on you. But I do have the sneaking suspicion that you may stolen a glance or two at me when you were in here with that ex of yours. And I can't really complain about my little dry spell when a woman defines herself by her eagerness to please literally shows up on my doorstep." She took Emmie's hand in hers and guided it to her cheek. "It's been hard finding space for anyone else since I started my own story. But you're here now. So, even if it's just for the night, maybe I can choose to open up."
A simple, "okay," was all Emmie said as she pulled Rosa's lips to hers.
"That's nice" whispered Rosa when they finally pulled away.
"I could lay you down by the fire," offered Emmie. "I've always wanted to try that."
Rosa shook her head. "Haven't gotten around to cleaning the floor yet. Got interrupted, remember?"
There was a rush of embarrassment as Emmie remembered her awkward entrance. But she also remembered something else. "But you were cleaning the table, right?" Emmie sat up, stepped over to Rosa, and placed her hands around the thin waist of that hourglass figure. "Hold on," she said with a smile. She lifted Rosa from her seat and gave her a spin before setting her on the edge of the table.
"Oh!" Rosa was taken off guard. "Okay, that's a first." From her new vantage point, she had to look slightly down look into the eyes of the towering Emmie.
"I'm full of surprises," Emmie said. Her hot breath on Rosa's neck. Kisses became wider until teeth gracefully grazed her skin.
"Then I'll give you more to work with." Rosa playfully pushed Emmie back. Just enough to give her enough room to start unbuttoning her top.
"You want a hand?" Asked Emmie, eagerly.
"No," whispered Rosa. "I've seen girls like your ex before. Bossy outside, but a pillow princess when it counts, right?" The first button opened. "Me? I'm going to give you a bit of a show while I'm bossy in all the right ways. Understand?"
"Yes," panted Emmie.
"Good," said Rosa. She nudged Emmie back with her foot. "Get those shoes off, won't you? Can't have dirty shoes on the table, can we?"
"No." Emmie supported Rosa's leg with one hand and began untying the lace with the other. As the lace slid loose, Rosa slowly unbuttoned. She had her top completely open by the time the shoe slid off.
"Hope you don't mind the sock. Hazard of being a working girl," said Rosa while doing her best to compensate for how self conscious she suddenly was.
"Not at all," replied Emmie. She gripped the top of the sock, slid it off, and let it fall to the floor.
"I like when a woman is willing to get her hands dirty." Rosa rewarded Emmie by letting her blouse slip off her shoulders. Her bra was a worn white with a faded floral pattern and cups each supported a generous handful. She arched her back and displayed it proudly, regally. "Mind the other shoe, won't you? I can't remove that, and this at the same time."
Dutifully, Emmie took the other shoe, but stumbled with the laces. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Rosa as her fingers played at the edges of her bra. Emmie only just managed to get the knot undone when Rosa reached the hooks of her clasp. She released them just as the sock hit the floor. With nothing but the shoulder straps holding the bra in place, she gave her chest a shimmy and let it fall to the table.
Emmie spread Rosa's legs for easier access, moving in for another kiss, for which she met no resistance. Emboldened, Emmie slid her tongue past Rosa's lips. Lips that closed around her and began to suck. Despite the chill, Emmie's muscles melted. Her legs weakened. Her mouth slipped free as her legs sank. But she gripped the table as best she could. Kissing her way down Rosa's necks, collarbone, breasts, and stomach before finally stopping at the waistband of her pants.
"Mmm, such a go-getter," Rosa purred. "Go on, then." It took a moment to regain her composure, but once Emmie was steady enough on her feet, she undid the belt and button of the blue jeans. Gripping the waist, she pulled the pants as Rosa wiggled out of them and they soon joined the shoes on the floor.
There Rosa sat. Leaning back, legs spread, wearing nothing but a pair of pink cotton panties and her glasses. The firelight giving every inch of her body a warm glow.
But, her composure cracked as she struggled to comfortable on the hard wood. "Are you okay?" Emmie asked.
"Fine," said Rosa. "Table is just kind of cold and not exactly soft. Don't worry, I'll power through."
Emmie glanced around the room and got an idea. "I got it. One sec." She wrestled her way out of the cafe t-shirt and tossed it aside before going to nearby shelf and grabbing a large, folded quilt and before returning to the table.
"You want to try laying by the fire?" Rosa was getting excited enough that she was forgetting her misgivings about the dirty floor.
"I'll do you one better," said Emmie. She wrapped one powerful arm around Rosa's waist and pulled her in close. Rosa's body pressed into Emmie's soft stomach and heaving breasts. Holding her tight, Emmie lifted her, yet again. Pulling her off the table and placing the quilt with a single flourish. However; spreading it evenly with one hand proved a bit more difficult Rosa didn't seem to mind the attention.
"You've been waiting to get yourself around this waist, haven't you?
"Yep!" Emmie smiled and brought her arm in tighter for a playful squeeze.
With the table now comfortably covered, Rosa was returned to her seat. Though, the squeezing and spinning had left her disoriented and the rolled onto her back.
"You alright?" Asked Emmie with a giggle.
"Totally," said Rosa who arched her back and removed her panties with one smooth motion. "See? Meant to do that." She let the panties dangle from her finger. "Now, come on. No way a girl as eager to please as you with hands like that doesn't know how to use them."
"Coming right up," replied Emmie. The warm glow of the fire in the sheen between Rosa's legs beckoned. Unable to wait any longer, she grabbed an ankle in each hand and slid the prone Rose to the edge of the table.
"Even more enthusiastic than I thought," said Rosa. "Better not waste any time, then."
Emmie smiled, raised her hand, and extended her first two fingers. "You sure you wanna go right to these?"
Rosa propped herself up and took Emmie's hand in her own before guiding it to her mouth. With her glasses having slid just far enough down her nose to peer over the frames, she looked deep into her guest's eyes as she kissed and sucked the two extended digits. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm sure."
Her grip released and Emmie moved her hand to Rosa's slim waist. As she eased herself inside, she luxuriated in the sheer heat. Hotter, more all encompassing than the fire at her back. Her fingers weren't enough, she wanted to be consumed by that heat entirely. But, given how tightly it held two fingers, she didn't dare rush to a third.
Rosa wrapped her arms strong Emmie's broad shoulders. She could feel herself being stretched, their body heat equalizing. A moment's discomfort such a small price to pay.
The muscles of Emmie's back and shoulder began to flex under Rosa's fingers. All that power traveling down that sturdy arm and concentrated inside her.
With the shutters drawn and persistent patter of the rain surrounding them, Rosa felt no shame in letting out moan into Emmie's ear. "Sounds like you want more," said Emmie.
"More of you, yes." Rosa whispered. She let her nails gaze Emmie's skin. One hand refused to leave the rippling back muscles, but the other explored Emmie's sizable chest. Her own fingers slid naturally into the grooves of the stretch marks just as Emmie's found their rhythm. Long, strong, even strokes. It was only natural that Rosa fell into that same rhythm as she caressed and squeezed the heavy breast. Its weight belied its softness. Its mass pressing through the gaps in her fingers whenever Emmie pushed deeper.
"Right there," panted Rosa. "Just keep going. Just like that."
Emmie couldn't help but smile. "I can keep going as long as you need me to. My arm's nowhere near tired, and we have all night."
Time melted away and Rosa could feel her body surrendering to the sheer strength as it steadily pulled the pleasure out of her. Divine sensations locked away deep inside that revealed themselves with the beckoning of those fingers.
When Rosa's grip tightened, when the even breathing was disrupted, when her moans gave way to something helplessly high-pitched, when her whole body tensed, when she released and had to ease herself back onto the waiting quilt, Emmie knew she had accomplished exactly what she'd meant to.
"How was that?" Emmie's projected confidence very nearly covered the twinge of vulnerability.
"Give me minute," said the exhausted Rosa. "I need more blood flow in my brain to.... I need to come up with something better than 'Good Girl,' so give me a minute."
"No, no," interjected Emmie. "That's fine. I'm good with that. I'm very good with that."
"Good," said Rosa. "Now toss those boxers and get up here."
"Excuse me?" Emmie tried to understand the one-two punch of the compliment and command.
"You heard me," said Rosa. "I am at a table. In a restaurant. I am going. To. Eat."
Any confidence Emmie had gained was draining out of her by the second. "You don't have to! Besides, I'm probably gonna break that thing."
"Please. This thing is the kind of furniture they sang about in Duck And Cover PSAs. The only danger is if you decide to tell the health department."
"I'd never!" Said Emmie.
"I know," Rosa replied. "Which is why you're going to stop with the selfless service-top schtick and let me reciprocate." She propped herself up on her elbows. "Besides, I'm aiming to bet your ex didn't really make you a priority. I'm not going to miss out on the chance to one-up miss 'no caf, no dairy, no sugar, no regard for people's time.' So, get up here."
"She didn't *always* leave me hanging," said Emmie sheepishly.
"You really want to take her side right now?" Rosa asked with an arched eyebrow.
Not seeing another option, Emmie obeyed. She shimmied out of her still-drying underwear and carefully climbed up onto the table. And, while there was some creaking and a slight shake, it held like Rosa said it would. And, already on her hands and knees, Emmie crawled to Rosa.
"Other way," said Rosa with a twirl of her finger. Emmie obeyed, awkwardly turning around while the quilt slid around under her. Once Emmie was facing the fireplace she laid down on her side and stretched out. She rested her head on her folded arm near the table's one edge while her toes peeked over the opposite edge. The full length and breadth of her on offer to Rosa.
Rosa laid down and removed her glasses before resting her head on Emmie's sizable thigh. Still cool from the storm, it contrasted the heat she felt when she reached out with her tongue. She let her neck relax and sink in, reached around to grip and pull everything below Emmie's waist closer so she could get to work.
The effect was almost instant. Wrapping her lips tight, Rosa wielded the tip of her tongue with a fencer's precision. Even the slightest touch thrummed through Emmie's entire body. It took everything Emmie had to stay steady so that Rosa could continue her delicate work. But she knew that energy had to go somewhere.
Emmie reached out and grasped the back of Rosa's thighs. She curled herself in and licked the length of Rosa's glistening slit.
There was a muffled moan as Rosa lost her composure. Emmie's tongue didn't penetrate, it simply lavished over her. It easily encompassed her entire opening. Rather than tease her eager mound, Emmie simply smothered it. Rosa wanted nothing more than to let herself relax into the pleasure, sink into it and never resurface.
But she had a job to do. She squeezed her thighs tight over Emmie's head before redoubling her own efforts.
It wasn't long until Emmie's ecstatic cries sent tremors through her tongue. Rosa did her best to hold strong, but she too was dragged over the edge along with Emmie.
Both drained, chests having air through exhausted mouths, each stared into the space opposite the other. Rosa was the first to move, rotating herself around until she was face to face with Emmie. "You didn't have to do that," she said.
"But I did," replied Emmie. "I really, really did." She embraced Rosa and pulled her close. "After all you did, it was the least I could do."
"Fine," said Rosa sleepily. "But we're even now. That includes dinner. Just have to wait until the flames die down. Just going to rest a bit."
For the first time that night, with the warm fire at her back, and Rosa in her arms, Emmie finally felt all traces of cold leave her. Between the patter of the rain, the crackle of the fire, and the soft rumble of Rosa's snoring, one could easily miss Emmie singing quietly to herself. "I couldn't help i-i-it. It's all your fau-ult."
