DISCLAIMER: Scrubs and its characters are the property of Touchstone Television and NBC. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Her Tutorial
By bank_farter
If there's one thing Elliot learned from her mother, it's that secrets beget secrets.
Well, that and you shouldn't get fat. Or let men put their howdy-dos into your bajingo.
Ok, so there are a few things that she learned from her mother. But the secrets thing is the one that's most relevant at the present time. She was dumb enough to share one incredibly embarrassing and very personal detail with Carla, and now it's spinning totally out of control. That one secret (the fact that she'd never had an orgasm) turned into two (that she and Carla had a conversation about masturbation that involved washing machines), and then three (that not even the joys of the spin cycle were enough to help her overcome her inorgasmic funk). Then it became four (that she and Carla talked about her failure again), which was far too high of a number for comfort.
Apparently, though, it wasn't high enough to get her to just stop because now she's working her way up to five (that her best friend is currently sliding her hand past the waistband of her scrubs in a decidedly unfriendly way…or maybe in a "too friendly" way, depending on how you look at it).
"Um," Elliot says, because she prides herself on being articulate. "Carla?"
"Mm?" she hears from behind her, and she feels Carla's breasts press more firmly against her back.
"Isn't this kind of…I don't know… gay?" The last word comes out sounding more like a squeak than she intended.
"Elliot! No," Carla says reassuringly. She stills her hand momentarily. "You know how I like to fix everything, right?"
Elliot nods.
"Well, this is just one of those things," Carla continues. She moves her hand lower, slowly. "Besides," she mutters, "It's not like you'd ever figure out how to do it on your own."
Elliot's head whips around. "What was that?"
"Nothing," Carla replies quickly. "Just relax, ok?"
Elliot nods and opens her mouth to respond, but she's quickly cut off by Carla's fingers moving past elastic and gliding over wet folds. She gasps, and Carla moves her lips so that they're millimeters away from her ear.
"You need to start with this," Carla whispers as she runs a fingertip lightly over Elliot's clit, "And then figure out what you like."
"What do you… um, mean?" stutters Elliot. She's not sure how much of that is because of embarrassment and how much is do to the fact that Carla's fingers are sending little bolts of pleasure into her belly.
"Well…" Carla places a finger on either side of the swollen bud and rubs them back and forth gently. "…There's indirect pressure..."
Elliot sighs a little and finds herself pressing back into Carla, wanting more contact.
"…or direct pressure…" she flicks a digit over her clit, and Elliot's breath hitches as her hips jerk back.
"Too much," she pants.
"Ok. Well, there's also circular motion. Sort of the best of both worlds…"
Holy frick.
Carla's fingers touch her just perfectly, and Elliot's never felt anything like it before. She wonders vaguely if that might have been a good thing because whatever Carla's doing—circular motion, she reminds herself—is completely unraveling her. And Elliot prefers to appear composed, at least until she can make it to a secluded closet.
Not that she's not hiding in a closet now. She's totally hiding in a closet now, but it's different because someone's hiding with her. Someone who is smiling against her neck as she elicits moans and gasps and hip jerks that Elliot feels like she has no control over.
"Good," Carla whispers, and the hot breath against Elliot's ear sends yet another surge to where Carla's fingers are moving against her. "Now you just need to think about something sexy…"
Elliot forces herself to nod, although she knows she's not going to follow the instruction. Carla's curls are tickling her cheek, and Carla's scent—perfume and a hint of spices Elliot isn't familiar with—is filling her nose. She knows she should come up with some crazy-hot fantasy (and Lord knows she has plenty), but she can't think of anything else besides her friend as she feels an odd pressure building in her belly.
"Carla…?" she gasps, and it sounds small and uncertain.
"It's ok," Carla coaxes as she makes tighter, quicker circles with her fingertips. "Just let it go."
And that's all it takes. Elliot arches against Carla's hand and lets her head lull back as she feels an unfamiliar but very welcomes pleasure coursing through her body. She's tense all over, but she feels weak at the same time, and, before she can stop herself, she groans Carla's name as her knees buckle.
When she finally opens her eyes, she sees Carla grinning at her, eyebrows raised.
"What?"
"For someone who was worried about this being gay, you certainly didn't hesitate to moan my name out when you orgasmed."
"Oh," Elliot says. She frowns. "Did that make it gay?"
"Totally," Carla replies, nodding.
Yeah, she can see how it would. "Sorry."
"It's ok." Carla winks. "You'll just have to work on that for next time."
Elliot's brow furrows. "Next time?"
"Well, yeah. Unless you don't want the advanced course…"
And Elliot has the strongest feeling that this is going to lead to a lot more secrets, but she also can't bring herself to care. She looks reflective for a moment.
"Well, it doesn't involve weight gain or howdy-dos, at least. Right?"
Carla just stares at her quizzically before shaking her head. "I'm not even going to ask."
The End