The (Fe)Male Gaze

or

Recasting the Primal Scene, Redux

Part One: Interlude

Sweat.

Skin.

Mouth.

Hands.

With the small part of her consciousness not completely absorbed by the overwhelming power of her five primal senses, she marveled at the ability of this woman to move her so completely. Untethered by fear, unbound by desire, propriety swept aside by need and consent– she let herself be taken away by the confident strokes of those hands against her body.

The pleasure deepened, beckoned her to someplace long ago lost or put to the side by the search for self and same; but, this time, she allowed it to flourish, reaching more urgently into her depths, ever-expanding and spiraling upward.

Stretch.

Arch.

Flex.

A guttural noise, halfway to a scream, poured from her throat as her muscles gathered themselves, bunching against the controlled precision of those magnificent hands.

"Come for me," a whispered entreaty, and the remaining thing that had unknowingly been holding itself back broke free, tumbling headlong into an explosive release.

Her body.

Kim’s hands.

"Oh. My. God." Breath ragged and torn by the strain, Abby concentrated on nothing more complex than trying to control the rampant pounding of her heart as Kim’s head came to gently rest in the hollows of her hips. Muscles flexing involuntarily in the aftershocks of orgasm, Abby’s senses slowly released their grip on the immediate– becoming more aware of her surroundings.

The gentle scratch of carpet against her bare skin. The tangle of scrubs, jeans and T-shirts surrounding them. The godawful noise coming from the television set.

"What the hell?" Straining her neck to see around the couch, Abby peered indignantly at the screen.

Kim chuckled in response, tugging Abby back towards her and wrapping her safely within the confines of her long arms. "I think VH1 is having a Big 80s marathon or something. It’s been Hair Band Behind the Music pretty much all day."

Settling into Kim’s embrace and more than willing to let the longer woman come between her and the rough pile of the carpet, Abby rested her head on the other woman’s chest. Her fingers traced idle paths down Kim’s ribcage and into the graceful narrowing of her waist while she listened to the slightly erratic beat of her lover’s heart. "Something I can do for you, lady?" she murmured, recognizing Kim’s arousal in the pulse she heard and the coiling tension in the body cradling her.