DISCLAIMER: Oh, David Rosenthal and the CW (you know, that guy who produced the show this season and the network which aired it...did I mention that it's hard to think of the show in the past tense from hereon out?). You may have taken a great show and ruined it further, but that allowed me to bask in my fantasy world where Christopher met with a tragic rattle accident in Season Three, Logan was found to be selling exam papers online and expelled from Yale long before he met Rory, while her and Paris were living happily ever after as they blissfully ignored focus group and Focus on the Family's advice to not be kissing so much, and Lorelai had happy twin girls with Luke.
Other than that though, Amy Sherman-Palladino created the characters through her Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, while Warner Bros. Television distributes it and makes it and all that; I'm just having some fun with the girls here. All products and trademarks mentioned within the story are the property of their respective owners.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: All right, so this idea of bringing Paris and Lorelai together as a couple for what should be a very hot version of a May/December romance? It's been done well by a couple writers, but mostly this ship has suffered from writing which left much to be desired. The couple who have done it well did it in a one-shot manner, while the rest, let's just say a few of them are on sites no sane person would go to, and Paris is written as if she has a complex mommy complex thing with a want for Lorelai that borders on stalking rather than admiration. I've always felt disappointed that P/L hasn't been explored deeply like Paris/Rory has, and one day after talking with one of those great P/L authors, I decided on this idea and went for it.
That girl of course is Danielle who as always, does a great job of betaing for me. I wrote this mainly because I enjoy a fun 'smart girl gets with the smart alec' fic, but because she's been pushing for me to get this out. Thanks to her, I have all the inspiration that I could ever have for writing Paris in any sexual situation.
I do not offer my thanks to Jeremy Crawford however, the first guy who ever asked 'can you write a Paris/Lorelai fic, pleasssse?'. Dude, you need to stop asking people for fics, along with being rude to them, and calm down, no one in fanfiction enjoys hearing from you. I'm sure he probably thinks this is too tame though, judging from his LiveJournal group dedicated to his odd coupling fixations.
I hope that all of you enjoy this, and don't worry about Longing being neglected for the sake of this story; this will be written when I run into block on that story only. I hope you can give me your honest feelings about my treatment of the women together; I have an entire series in mind for this and hopefully the feedback is great enough to enable me to continue. Enjoy :)!
SPOILERS: This takes place a few hours after the Paris/Lorelai awkward hug in the S3 episode Here Comes the Son. This is a little AU though, as I changed a few things in order to suit the plot that I want going forward;
·Nothing about Paris and Lorelai's pasts has changed; Paris is still with Jamie going into this, while Lorelai is single. However, she isn't jealous of Luke and Nicole, while Paris has hit an unsaid (before this story) rough patch with Jamie.
·Jess managed to scrounge just enough of a GPA to invite Rory to Stars Hollow High's Prom, and they had their first time after that. He also got a scholarship to Boston College, and Rory's pro-con list went towards Harvard rather than Yale, so they'll live together in the future. You'll see why I made things this way in future chapters, if you enjoyed this introductory chapter.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Innkeeper's Lover
Accounting for Lust
Paris looked at the cashbox, frustrated as she went over the money count herself for the sixth time since 3 o'clock. She could've sworn that there was $21.75 extra in the box that she just wasn't finding. She did her usual count, the change first, followed by big bills, small bills, and ended with the Sacagawea and Anthony dollars she wished were used more often by the American public, but weren't, no thanks to the patriarchal national vending machine cabal. Every time however...
"$1,671.25!" She growled out the amount, pounding her hands down on the table, and then scribbling the amount once again on scratch paper to her left side. "I know it was $1,693, for sure!"
"Paris, calm down." Lorelai stood off to the frustrated girl's side, having been stuck in that empty classroom on the behest of one last event for Chilton's PTO. "We made much more than we could have ever thought, you should be pleased with how much we made in five hours of ticket selling. And hey, you got to skip some classes today, that's good, right?"
The withering stare directed at the innkeeper showed that Paris had different thoughts of the day than Lorelai.
"You don't understand Ms. Gilmore; this is Grad Night, the largest event besides Prom and the Valentine's Dance that the student government runs. I want to know that everything we collected here, and hopefully somebody didn't sneak in and decided 'Oh, you know what? They won't miss $21.75 at all, Paris is stupid. Let's go blow it on some Papa John's and those Mr. Sketch markers that have root beer and watermelon scents so we can do a cute, half-assed craft!'"
"But you have the rental fee for the hall covered, right? You only needed $1,250!" Lorelai sat in the chair next to Paris, watching the blonde put a couple fingers to her temples. "We profited $420! Last year the class of '02 raised $934, as you've reminded me numerous times throughout the day. It looked bad during lunch, but in the afternoon when we relocated away from Madeline and Louise's yearbook tearing, we managed to do more."
"You put out a candy dish, Ms. Gilmore!"
Lorelai smiled, wondering what had Paris so wound up. "What's the problem with that?"
"It's unethical, we're bribing them to buy tickets in exchange for peppermints and butterscotch!" She rolled her eyes, trying to make the point that Lorelai really wasn't getting.
"Which was out of my own pocket. We didn't lose any money, and $22--"
Lorelai shook her head, laughing as she tried to bring Paris back to her point. "Yes, that, is just bonus money. We got what we needed and we've made the most of any group in that room today."
"Still, I know we made more than that," she insisted, "I mentally did a count of each ticket we sold and that's the amount that I got."
"Some could've given less, or more. But we sold over 300 tickets. That's not the entire class, Paris, but it's enough to make the event profitable."
"I want to get this right though. Maybe I should count again." Paris looked at the cash box and was about to do exactly that.
But, Lorelai had the key, and was able to get it away from her and lock the box before Paris could get a hold of the key.
"Hey!" Paris tried to grasp at Lorelai's hand to get the key. "I was going to count that again!" She was about to go after the mother of her best friend/VP/nemesis and get the key back from the older woman...
And then she found herself facing the reminder of how Grad Night made $1,671.25 that day.
Rather, two reminders. Lorelai bent down in a position to get up from the table and before Paris could realize it, her attention was caught on Lorelai's chest. Coming in that morning, the woman had her crème overshirt opened down only two buttons, but with Paris's encouragement (and unexpected business acumen for sex appeal), taken it down another button during the day as they sold tickets. Now at 4:30pm in the afternoon, and not having to make impressions on anyone involved with Chilton, she undid the button down another place because of the heat-catching windows of the classroom they were doing the money count in.
Four buttons undone and so many awkward hours together, both of them would have rather been anywhere else. But ever since Prom night, Paris had been prone to more cranky outbursts than usual. She didn't expect Rory's mother to be the target of that frustration.
Ever since the awkward hug after talking over college plans with Lorelai earlier in the day, Paris had found her thoughts were differing from where they usually were. She was supposed to be focused on Grad Night and what went into it, the parent helping her sell the tickets secondary to making a good impression with the student body in the last days of May before final exams. Of course, there was Jamie to be reckoned with, in addition.
Now she was grumpy though. Thanks a lot Ms. Gilmore, she thought to herself, trying to avert her eyes away.
Hugs were not foreign to her, as that first impression when Lorelai went in to embrace her might have suggested. Her father hugged her all the time, and so did Francisca, her nanny. Sharon found it as a sign of weakness but Paris hadn't really cared about any her advice for at least the last three years. As a form of familiar love, she was well-versed in that aspect of hugging.
But Lorelai's embrace...it was so sudden, unexpected...before that point, unwanted. Coming off advice from Ms. Gilmore to screw Jamie's opinion of her school choice, it was tactically unexpected. But once she got into the fact that Lorelai was hugging her...she realized that for all Jamie did, for being her first boyfriend and first lover, his hugs were not at all like this.
This is comfortable, she had thought to herself, unclenching her fists as she wrapped herself around Lorelai's back and gave her an appreciate 'thank you' for understanding her woes and fears. This is...safe too. She loved the feeling of the older woman's soft fingers along her back, moving up and down to show that even through their conflicts about Rory's commitments to her projects and how easy she felt the mother was about their serious academic matters, she had taken a liking to the intense and neurotic woman in her grasp. The understanding that both of them had such overbearing and omniscient mothers probing each and every one of their moves, and that anything they would do 'off-the-plan' would be looked at with disdain. There was also a sense with both of them that settling for less was the worst thing that could happen to them.
If it was just a simple hug to Paris, she could go on with her life unaffected, looking towards Jamie and her future. However, as her mind was apt to, it was distracted by an action on Lorelai's end just before they released.
Was she? I must be thinking the wrong way. The thing Paris was thinking about had three points to it. The first could usually be easily brushed off. Lorelai's palm raked across Paris's back, at the center where her bra was detectable through the wool layer of her blazer, and the cotton of her blouse. She couldn't find anything sexual to take out of that. At least at first.
But what had brought her gears spinning was Lorelai's brush with her lips against her neck as she released, along with a soft moan which emanated from her throat. The closeness of the situation, along with the length of the embrace, was something Lorelai hadn't experienced in at least a year, since Christopher's sperm found its way into Sherrie's egg and dampened any idea of her reconciliation with him. Since then she had been in a sexual funk, alienated more now that Luke was going out with Nicole, who probably thought of 'being on top' as a sexual adventure. However, no one but Lorelai knew that, and Paris didn't know what the simple act of returning a hug was doing to the 35 year-old woman.
What the hell? No, no, no! In her own mind, Lorelai memorized the feel of Paris's body against hers, comparing it to those of the men in her life since going back on the market with Max two years before. She had only intended to soothe Paris, not knowing her hormones were hungry for any bodily contact after such a time having to settle for self-stimulation. Her body settled against the small girl's so perfectly, the hug bringing their bodies together in a seemingly non-sensual way.
Those breasts...Lorelai had unbuttoned Paris's blazer unconsciously to bring her into a close cuddle, and was surprised at the softness of the girl's body against her own. Before, she had found her attention focused on the girl only in involuntary times, or when she had to help Paris with a dress when she volunteered fit her for this year's Winter Formal and Prom. She had self-control then though, knowing some guy would come her way one day and thoughts of Paris were silly.
In that embrace though, Lorelai was caught on Paris's simple scent of baby powder and orchid body spray. Her mind then flashed an image of herself kissing the young woman and moving things towards something sexual, which then, to her shock, aroused that soft moan, and as she brought herself out of the hug, to stick the tip of her tongue out and get a taste of Paris's neck while sliding her lips up at the same time.
Oh damn it, don't do this to me now! She scolded herself for her actions, trying to bring herself out of her suddenly sex-starved mindset. Look, when I get home, Rory goes over to Lane's, I can go upstairs, and I'll work these thoughts out with my Magic Wand, OK?! We're not taking care of them with her, mainly because first of all, I don't go that way, and second, it's Paris Gellar! Who has a guy! And if she was a year younger, would have me thrown in the slammer for thinking naughty thoughts about her!
Yeah, but she hasn't come in two months, look at that face silly girl! If Lorelai could wring her inner vixen's neck, she'd do it right at that moment for suggesting taking out her sexual feelings on a girl who so often criticized her. She hoped Paris didn't sense the moan and brush-kiss, but the blonde seemed unaffected on the surface. She shut her vixen up but to no avail as during the seventh and eighth hours, she found any excuse to brush her bare legs against Paris's own smooth gams in 'accidental' circumstances.
However, no matter what they did to stop themselves, both Paris and Lorelai continued to flirt with each other, unknowingly bringing their sexual frustrations to the surface. The empty classroom Lorelai and Paris crunched numbers in faced towards the west, a great cooling advantage when it was needed during the school day, but after dismissal the sun's rays pushed their way through the window, heating up the room, which happened to be in a wing with minimal air conditioning, no thanks to historical preservation codes.
Where Lorelai had the luxury of opening another button to cool herself off, Paris stuck stubbornly to the Chilton uniform code, blazer still on and buttoned. The only concession made was to her feet, as she had taken off her shoes a half-hour before and slipped off her socks, leaving the small girl barefoot and free of her tight saddle shoes.
This had given Lorelai a view of the girl's beautiful feet...and somehow thoughts of them residing in a sexy pair of high heels in order to wile away the time as the girl's silky monotone counted out each and every bill within the cash box. Her hand was gripped tightly at the edge of the desk after a totally wrong thought about the blonde's legs wrapped around her as they grinded into each other, clit-to-clit.
Her reddened lips were swelled, dampened by the last drips of a half-liter Aquafina bottle finished within thirty minutes of its opening as Lorelai's sex-starved body continued focusing on Paris.
Both of them were so wound up that even Lorelai's usually sarcastic quips were dampened down as they began to take a flirting tone to them; the same with Paris's own mini-rants. They couldn't understand why they were getting this way, Paris especially, since her last lovemaking session with Jamie seemed good enough to her.
He's good, but he doesn't have Lorelai's voice, she thought, looking over the woman often, watching those legs contract with each step, the toe and heel of the black high heels she wore sending a shudder down her spine, especially when their clattering against the hardwood floor moved closer to her.
But now, she was on an overdrive as Lorelai took away the key and got up from the chair. Without even a thought, Paris's usually steady and neutral gaze was focused on the inside of Lorelai's sweater top, unbuttoned down right down to where the cups met and where the neck of the underdress fell, giving Paris such a torturous view of Lorelai's breasts. Usually they were something the woman didn't accent, but Paris felt her tongue drop in her throat, her mouth watering at the wonderful view. Oh fuck, stop. I don't need this, I don't need this. I have Jamie, and come on, she's half my age! And a woman!
Her own reprimand was dampened as her mind slow-motioned the image as she heard Lorelai say she wasn't getting the key back, then get up and turn around to push in hair at the work table. Again, Paris was flared up, finding herself face to face with what she felt was Lorelai's best feature, her ass. I should not be turned on by a woman wearing a leopard print slip dress! Despite that, Paris couldn't draw her eyes off from Lorelai. She watched the woman act like a silly teenager, walking over to the corner of the classroom, trying to draw Paris out.
"Paris, you should relax," Lorelai said, holding the key between her fingers, "we have enough to do on Grad Night."
"But I need exact accounting numbers, if I don't have them, the Headmaster is going to have my head on a platter."
"We've counted ten times together, and each time, $1,671.25. You're going to wear the poor numbers out, and then the cash is going to fall apart because you're counting it so much that it's as thin as tissue! Then, you're going to go insane with worry because you can't think of anything but that number, and instead if attending whatever college you're going to want to go to, you'll be in the Institute of Living, muttering over and over '1,671.25 + 21.75... 1,671.25 + 21.75... 1,671.25 + 21.75!" Lorelai enjoyed baiting, especially as she watched Paris move her way across the room with her confident steps.
"But what if I did miss $21.75?" she asked worriedly, now close to Lorelai and trying to get the key. But the tall lady wasn't giving it up easily, waving it around just out of her reach.
"We didn't miss anything, now settle down!" Lorelai's body twisted in various ways as she tried to keep out of Paris's grasp, the slip dress riding up her legs a little and feeling a little discomfort as the dress's straps fell down her shoulders beneath the top and dug into her upper arms. Watching Paris get all flustered, Lorelai couldn't help but find the girl attractive.
"Give it back; it's my key!" She made another unsuccessful grab at the key. Suddenly, Paris found a slippery spot on the floor that she could not a grip on with her feet. She lost her balance and fell to the floor in an inglorious heap in front of the woman she was suddenly and inexplicitly finding herself enchanted with.
Lorelai could only watch with her eyes squinted and teeth clenched as she heard Paris "Whoa--eeep!!!" and then crash onto the floor. While her normal self would point and laugh right away, possibly making a funny aside at Paris's expense, Lorelai had her eyes on Paris's legs, and that gaze moved northward as the fall happened.
And now suddenly, she knew that Paris was one for wearing pink panties. The pretty silky bikini-style kind that was an extreme contradiction to the plain and dull classmate of Rory's she always knew. OK, she might be injured, shut up!
Still, with Paris distracted, she came up with an idea of where to hide the key. As Paris moaned in light pain from landing on her ass, and with her eyes looking towards the ground, there was an opportunity of distraction for Lorelai.
She used it to the fullest, making sure that Paris was still occupied with her pain as she bent down to hide the key from view. Faking an adjustment of one of her high heels, she dropped the steel key into the arch of the Nine West pump where it wouldn't fall into the insole. That should kill the temptation, she thought to herself. With the issue of the cash box recount solved, Ms. Gilmore helped Paris up, at the same time ignoring a buzz of electricity shooting up her that Paris's fingers were so perfectly smooth, long, and beautiful, perfect for use in lovemaking.
"Are you all right, Par?" she asked with concern, Paris rubbing her lightly-bruised left elbow with her hand. The girl muttered under her breath about the cursed Chilton janitorial staff for not taking good care and pride in their school building, but knowing that it was something else entirely; when she was nervous around someone, she sweated. And when she enjoyed the company of that person more than usual, she sweated even more.
She looked up at Lorelai, her deep brown eyes meeting Lorelai's concerned blues. "I'm fine, just a bad spot to be in, I guess. I'll be a little sore, but I can live with it." Her mind though was a lust-fogged muddle filled with so many thoughts, including how much empathy the innkeeper was developing for her. Rory tried to help her get over the Harvard rejection, to be sure, but it was more of a surface thing where she didn't probe any deeper than necessary. But the lady who had borne her seemed to care much more than that.
"Maybe you need a break."
"A break?" Paris looked confused at what she was trying to communicate with her.
"I mean...let's talk about things. You know, um, we talked a lot today and I feel like I know you a little more." The last time Lorelai had felt this nervous about normal conversation was so long ago with Max. This is Paris, it should be easy! But...she's also so intimidating.
"But I told you," Paris tried to avoid. "Jamie and I, we're fine."
"Jamie?" Lorelai hadn't expected Paris to go from recovering from her fall to going on about her sex life. But Paris was always blunt about where a conversation should go. So she knew if she didn't bite, Paris would stop talking to her, clamming up all over again. "I didn't even say anything about him."
Damn it! Paris had misjudged the direction of the conversation, and tried to think of a way to avert. But after a few moments she realized the hold was too deep to get out from. She had to go on with the topic, no matter how much discomfort it caused her.
She steeled herself to go forward, making it seem like she wasn't thrown off. "Hey, you told me to stop worrying about the money."
Lorelai was less than convinced that Paris was comfortable as they moved towards the teacher's desk, Paris pulling up the student's chair and sitting next to the older woman, who took the teacher's leather chair on wheels. She knew how it was exactly, the pressure to have sex to 'be normal', not passionate. She would have rather kept her virginity longer than she did, but Christopher, societal pressures. She remembered how Emily ceded to a maid with awful advice when she asked about going further with Chris before they did it. She had her own feeling that Sharon Gellar's sex advice to Paris was either pathetic, or at worse, dangerous, and as she remembered that February night eavesdropping on her telling Rory about her first time, Lorelai knew Paris acted only on the moment, her own pre-conceived notions.
"You're sure about Jamie though. Honestly?" Lorelai gave her an 'I know more than you think' look, and Paris tried again to avert.
"Of course, I'm satisfied."
It was time to spring the trap. "You don't look satisfied, or on cloud nine." She moved her hand to grasp at Paris's, as she watched the girl's expressive oval face widen, feeling discovered. "Love isn't something meant to be scheduled or built around traffic reports, and if Jamie really loves you as much as you think he does, he'd use something called the telephone a little more often."
"We operate on two different spheres, Ms. Gilmore. I'm more about the usual kind of love, while you need it to be light and frothy. I understand if Jamie doesn't have time for me."
"Paris, you shouldn't have to!" Lorelai implored. "Oh my God, there is no usual kind of love, everyone is very different. So you're more cerebral, but do you ever get turned on by him? Wound up? Forget where you are?"
"Of course I do!" Paris insisted. "I get the butterflies and such."
"You're obviously very stressed out...more than usual. I understand about the whole rejection, but you should be over that by now. I can tell that it's something else that's making you so irritable and annoyed, so much that you're using routine things like this to take your mind off things."
"Look," Paris shot out angrily, her voice lowered and dark. "I'm fine, really." But Lorelai sensed a distraction mechanism whirring in Paris's brain. She wasn't fine...and she knew that the cue to 'unbutton your top' from earlier was the trigger for everything. Paris would not usually wander her mind from someone else she loved unless she had very heavy doubts.
"If you're so fine, tell me how you and Jamie will be spending the summer." Lorelai pursed her lips together, moving herself closer and trying to prove her point that Paris's frustration was of a sexual kind.
"I don't know," Paris said, thinking Lorelai's sarcasm meant she'd be made fun of for her 'plans'. "Can I get back to counting the money?"
Lorelai rolled her eyes; the girl had even more stubbornness than she did. "We have enough, really. You're talking to someone who passed her B-school accounting classes with straight A's, there is no way that there's a dime missing from that cash box!"
"But...but..." Suddenly, Paris's will was starting to fall apart. "You never know, it could have disappeared."
"We've been with each other all day; I would have noticed if someone made off with some of the cash." She got up from the chair and invited Paris to sit down in it to calm her nerves. She knew that there was one way she could draw the girl out, one that always relaxed her. As a leery Paris got up from her uncomfy chair and into the teacher's seat, she felt Lorelai's heavy stare weigh down on her. "Now come on, relax; take off your coat and decompress. You have less than eleven days left before graduation and you should be happy."
"I am though," Paris said, less than enthused. "I'm happy and fine." She kept the blazer on, not wanting to fall to the fact that Lorelai was standing over her, and the invasion of her personal space wasn't annoying her like it usually did.
"Where are you and Jamie headed, c'mon. I promise you that anything you say won't leave this room, and I won't be sarcastic if you're headed on some boring tour of colonial homes." Lorelai smiled, and though Paris didn't feel as close to Lorelai as she did with Rory, the woman's past made her trust her.
That, and Lorelai's wide smile melted her heart a little. She couldn't deny the draw of the kind hotelier anymore, and wondering why exactly she wanted the blazer off, she unbuttoned it and took it off, and handing it to Lorelai so she could place it on the chair.
"Are you sure?" she wondered with hesitation.
"Cross my heart, cross my fingers, and cross my legs, Par." Lorelai was truthful about keeping their conversation in confidence, and with a caring touch of her hand across Paris's shoulders to start, she was able to draw the blonde out in describing her real feelings about Jamie.
"Apparently, we're going to New Jersey," she started.
"Really? That's nice." If you're Tony Soprano, she added internally.
"Specifically, Point Pleasant, where if I recall correctly, MTV set up shop last year."
"So, a beach house?" Paris nodded, though Lorelai was too busy distracted with the length of Paris's hair and how beautiful her skin looked.
"I wish I could be happy about it, but over the last week, I've been coming to the conclusion that maybe Jamie thinks more about his girl friends at Princeton and back home in Philly than he does me. I mean Prom, perfectly romantic and beautiful, and that gave me a confidence boost, for a while after we had a lull in March. But lately, going down there, I feel so lonely and left out."
"Do you think he's seeing someone else?" Lorelai quizzed. She was surprised at how candid Paris's answer to that turned out.
"I don't think he is, honestly. But if you've seen his girl friends, and the ladies down there, it makes me doubt myself. You look at me, all plain and boring. Compare me to the average Jersey girl, tanned, perfect, ready to appear on any Girls Gone Wild video to flash their chests. Intellect is not their reason for getting into Princeton: it's the blue-blooded guys they're looking to bed." Her voice lowers as the description goes on. "He wants me to have fun and relax, and keeps assuring me that I'm the only one for him. So why then, whenever I walk into the fraternity, is he talking with six or seven girls as he and his buddies play air hockey or pool, about everything and anything? No 'I can't wait until my girlfriend gets here, I miss her so much.' Just a 'Hey, Paris, welcome back', followed by a tepid kiss as he invites me to play something I don't want.
"Sometimes, I just feel dirty walking out of there. I'm in my usual dress and the other frat guys are commenting on my chest, wolf-whistling me, asking me to play beer pong or chug down part of a keg with a beer bong. One guy even asked me for a table dance! And you know what Jamie said?" Biting on her lip, she felt the bitterness leech out from her as Lorelai let her go on and on without interruption. "He didn't say anything, except that if I 'freed myself' I'd have less of a stick up my ass about things."
"Oh my God!" Lorelai was shocked that the angel Rory described as bedding Paris could be so crude.
"Every time I talk to him...'Paris, are you going to New Jersey? Are you coming? Please say you'll come! And please, come to Princeton, I miss you.' I've experienced Princeton, and based on the student life under the faculty's noses, I'd rule it out in a heartbeat. They're going to do a summer share for the Shore house, but I know that I'll be the odd girl out in the group. I don't table dance or flash my breasts at people." Paris started feeling tears come on, trying to stop them and failing. "All of those girls barely study, and even if Jamie got into the leadership conference, since he got into the fraternity, that endearing guy seems to have disappeared since the holidays in Philadelphia. All he's about is sex, sex, sex, and if I want it, I have to be the once ceding control to him; he hasn't let me take the lead or be on top once! Hell, I'm on the fucking patch and told him it was OK if he went condomless outside of my ovulation period..."
Lorelai coughed loudly hearing this, as Paris darted a look towards her. She felt guilty about doing it, but she was giving out more information than needed. Still, she understood for the sake of the story, the extra uncomfortable detail was needed. "Hey, it's OK, go on. I forget how blunt you are sometimes."
Paris, knowing her definition of sexuality was much different, decided that the details told were enough. "You get the picture though? My sex life, it sucks. No wonder why Tristan never paid attention to me. I'm doing it all wrong."
"There's nothing wrong with you!" Lorelai cried out, offended that Paris even had that thought in her head.
"You say that just because you know it makes me feel better!" She tried to swivel the chair around to face away from Lorelai, but she grabbed the arms to keep Paris in her line of sight. Bending down, she meets Paris at eye level.
"Paris, you shouldn't feel bad about sex, and Jamie has no right to make you feel guilty about 'doing it wrong'. He has to stop looking at his buddies for advice and look towards you for help! Now I've only seen him, what, two or three times. He seems like a nice guy to me, but he can do better."
"Huh?" Paris was confused as to why Lorelai was defending him, as the woman caught herself and chastised herself silently for her train of thought failing her. "He can do better? Yeah, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy."
"Whoa, whoa, uh...OK, here's the thing. He's a nice guy, Paris," she explained. "Don't think that I'm trying to give him this 'he's better than you' thing. But I know his type, I've been with his type. He's not looking at what you have, your intelligence and way of explaining. To me, he seems like a surface man, willing to look at you as perfectly acceptable to him, but not going beyond that. Meanwhile, I look at you, a girl who needs to be validated, complimented at every opportunity. You strive to be the best at everything, but it's frustrating to you that this relationship thing is a tough nut to crack. You try and try, but you can't get it right.
"What I'm trying to say is, maybe you and Jamie see things differently. That maybe, you're going about things all wrong."
"But I'm not. I just don't want to go."
"Paris, you don't have to go--" Lorelai was watching Paris have another breakdown, this time more subdued, but just as sad and powerful as the one nationally televised.
"Lorelai, I HAVE to go. In Jamie's words, 'I have no time to get to Hartford this summer. If you don't stay with me at least a month at the Shore house, you can consider us over!'. Mother is going to make me go anyways, she considers this just another step closer to a trip down the aisle!"
"He didn't say that!" Lorelai clenched her teeth and felt angered, feeling an overwhelming sense of empathy for Paris. "You know what that sounds like to me?!"
Paris sat cold silence, surprised at the venom the elder Gilmore had. "What?" She was timid in asking the question.
"It sounds exactly like what Christopher said, just before I refused to marry him." She took Paris by the hands and brought her up in the chair, putting her immediately in a much welcomed hug, wrapping her arms tightly at Paris's waist as the numbed young woman let the tears fall, her head cradling against Lorelai's shoulder. Her sounds of crying were muffled as she let out all her stress, anger and emotions. "Paris, don't you dare let both of them tell you what to do! You haven't listened to anyone who tells you that you suck, and it's gotten you to where you are today. Don't let Jamie turn you into a trophy wife!"
"But...he...says...he loves...me!" Paris stumbled out the words and shivered in Lorelai's grasp, feeling tingles caused from everything coming out across her body. "I'm not...going to find...anyone else!"
"Is--is that why you...that's why you..." Lorelai couldn't believe what happened next, as Paris said 'mm-hmm' to her theory that her first time wasn't out of love, but pressure. "No!"
"It was! He just went in, said the right words, and I was powerless to stop him! I couldn't stop myself...in a way, it was romantic."
"Did he even ask if you were ready?!"
"He took my affirmative moan as an answer, that's it. I didn't say a word." Paris was starting to feel settled down, but not too much. "It was six months, wasn't it time anyways?" Lorelai rocked Paris back and forth in her arms, trying to calm her down, making her see that Jamie wasn't for her.
"The only time that's perfect is when you feel like you're ready. I feel so guilty...I made fun of you for jumping into it so fast, out of your earshot!" The next statement from Lorelai's lips was shocking to them both. "If I knew that fucker and your mother pressured you, they'd both have been answering to me!"
Paris stilled, hearing Lorelai be so vulgar about Jamie. And then, both of them at that moment realized the closeness of their newest embrace. They were up against the chalkboard, Lorelai pushing Paris against it to keep her in control and to make sure she knew how she felt. Lorelai then saw that her hands were in a less than innocent place.
At Paris's waist. And she was involuntarily untucking her blouse.
Stop, Lorelai thought. Do not go there, just comfort her; there's no need to bring your personal feelings into this. You should take it back.
But she didn't want to. She had been disappointed when hearing Paris lost her virginity, especially with the description that lead into Rory denying she gave hers to Jess. Why didn't Rory ever talk her out of the track she was going on? If her daughter was supposedly 'the smart one', why two weeks ago did she have to sit in her living room in anguish as Rory described the night after the prom with edited details, how she gave it up to Jess because she was in love with him. How disappointed she was that her daughter, who she thought would have a dependable guy like Dean, had her most special moment with a delinquent nephew with no future, who had just barely gotten enough of a grade to pass his senior year and exams so he could graduate.
At least Jamie was 'nice.' And that was the problem. She hated nice. Christopher was nice, so was Max. The sex with both of them started off mind-blowing, but eventually fell into missionary tedium. She had taken herself off the market for so long, but for the occasional one night stand when Rory had a sleepover with Lane.
For so long, Lorelai had been hungry for lovemaking that would make her dizzy. She remembered back to Parent's Day 2001 as she hugged Paris, and that she discovered her and Max together in that classroom after the failed attempt to break it off with him.
Suddenly, she was looking at Paris's point of view. How as her family was falling apart, she was watching one of the woman's most intimate moments and would have never known it unless Paris hadn't blabbed it to the entire school. She wondered how it affected their relationship after that, how Paris had a grudging respect for her after that point that she went in for what she wanted, no matter what she said.
Was she turning Paris on in that moment of weakness? Rather, was Paris's view of that kiss enough to warp her view on love...towards her?
No, that's selfish thinking. You have to stop that; not everything is about you Lorelai! Even if Paris held a secret crush on her, there was no way she could ever return it, her societal pressures prevented her from thinking of herself as either career driven into a mid-40s heart attack, or the dowdy Hartford wife of some industry scion who spent more time with mistresses.
Meanwhile, Paris's mind was so affected by Lorelai's revealed opinion on Jamie. She would have never described him as a 'fucker' herself, but what he had done since Prom had done a 180° of her opinion on him; she couldn't see spending the rest of her life with such a possessive man. The whole courting had been a ruse, and now that he had what he wanted, Jamie could have her like a puppet.
But Lorelai...she had always been puzzled by how the woman half her age could know how she felt and use humor as a buffer. Even when the Inn burned down and just after Fran's passing, she was in awe that Lorelai was working the phones and Rory went on about she was looking at the legal section in the paper every morning, looking for the notice of auction on the courthouse steps for the Dragonfly. She was obsessed with going right back into the business again, even as every chain hotel, B&B and tourist inn within a sixty mile radius of Stars Hollow was after her to manage their establishments. One even attempted to purchase the former Independence land with the guaranteed hiring of Lorelai as GM before the town board declared it as parkland not for sale.
She felt in awe of how independent Lorelai was, how such a passionate woman with the worst lit in life salvaged it and turned into a respected member of her community. It made her curious, and she was still kicking herself months later for not going with her first instinct and go with Lorelai as her inspirational essay topic rather than a former senator that didn't do anything of note beyond pork projects and agenda furthering. She could have gotten into Harvard for sure.
Paris wasn't going to dwell however. Her thoughts were taken up more by a confident, beautiful and beguiling woman telling her she was better than Jamie.
Always, Paris had a crush on Lorelai. She just would never act on it, because of Jamie, but she knew Lorelai would laugh her ass off and find it horrible that the nerdy freak girl had a thing for her.
Oh, if she only knew.
Paris looked up at Lorelai, shock coloring her features as she responded to the taller woman's slur against her guy and the woman who had borne her.
"Why didn't you say anything to me, Ms. Gilmore? I would have listened to you; I trust your word more than I do Rory's." Fluttering her eyes, she moved closer to the woman, her head against the woman's chest in a soft, intimate way. "She thinks about what's right, in black and white. I didn't need that; I wanted you to tell me I fucked up, in living color, that this was the wrong thing to do. I always did...but she didn't want to hear the gore on my end."
"Paris, you're eighteen. You can make your own decisions." Lorelai rubbed her hand against Paris's right cheek. "You're actually more mature than I am at 35. For all I say about how my mother treats me, her emotional abuse is light compared to what you've faced."
"Was I wrong, Lorelai?" Paris asked simply, brown meeting blue. "Please tell me, was Jamie wrong for me? I didn't even want to date him, but when he came to Chilton, I was convinced he was romantic and chivalrous; Rory said he was right for me. That he complimented me."
Oh my God. For the first time in Rory's life, her mother doubted that the right advice was given to Paris. If Rory was the one to say Jamie was right for her...she was wrong. She was wrong on Jess, and now she had also screwed up Paris's love life before it even started.
And looking into Paris's eyes, she felt herself warmed. Wanted. That Paris wanted to know what was on her mind...it gave her chills that no man asking her advice could ever stir up.
Lorelai could sugar coat the facts, she could use humor in order to blunt her blow. But she instead found herself drawn to the self-doubting woman and was acting on only pure impulse. The girl of fifteen shades of purple she had been teasing for two years, the GellarBot 5000, whom she wanted to explode in the same room with Emily. She was human, devastated, wanting only of an opinion from her end.
Paris's hand rested on her bare left wrist. She felt shivers all the way up her arm and down her body. The feel of her soft body in hers, fitting in so well. She couldn't stand it. Only hours before, the girl had been barking non-stop orders at her, scaring her out of her wits.
Only Paris could ever stand up to Lorelai Victoria Gilmore and leave her presence unscathed, with full control over her.
Now, Paris had ceded her control, if only temporarily, back to Lorelai. And she wasn't about to abuse it.
"Paris," she spoke, a tremor in her usually confident voice. "I think he's wrong for you. He doesn't deserve someone so beautiful, with a kind heart hidden by so much darkness after all of these years. Not you, not at all."
Before Paris could speak, Lorelai found that caressing hand moving down to Paris's neck as she took in the compliment never said to her before in her entire life by anyone besides immediate relatives and her family.
The hand moved down, and then before she could try to avert her thoughts, the brunette slid her index finger into the space between the pearl snap of Paris's tie. She was never one to act on her feelings suddenly, and usually she could break herself off from the situation, evaluate them, and go from there. But these were very, very new feelings, even having an idea to call Paris 'beautiful.' It was something that took Lorelai out of her usual stride.
With a soft movement, she pulled the black article tight to feel the stress on the button, all as Paris found herself reacting to the soft movement of the digit across her neck. Her mouth opened a little, still on the word 'beautiful'. The only sounds she could hear were the combined breaths of the two women and then the unclasping of the tie. Her breath rushed as she felt the fabric thread through her collar, Lorelai slowly pulling it from around her neck on the right side. The sound of the article was like an unzipping, a freeing to the both of them. She pulled it loose as the last portion exited the collar and Lorelai threw it to the ground, a wanting look on her face as it landed on Paris's foot.
Paris was speechless, for Jamie was not allowed to undress her at all, after an incident where he almost ripped not only a favorite sweater of hers, but almost broke her religious necklace in the rush. He was so rough. But Lorelai had taken her tie off, in a soft, caring manner, without one word.
She felt naked. The tie said 'I'm the president of Chilton's student body, the best damned student ever to walk these halls.' The power of being fully dressed, of having all her power, it was always a salve to her lack of popularity.
Lorelai had taken it off, however. Now she was just another woman in that building, her future in doubt because of her insistence on getting everything right and in its place.
She loved soft and slow seduction, but had never experienced it beyond her own sexual fantasies and self-fucks. To have it, in this moment...she felt weak.
Especially when Lorelai licked her lips and released her grasp on the woman, moving away from her.
Ms. Gilmore could step back now and realize she was about to seduce a girl who voted in her first election only a few months before.
Instead, she brought things full circle.
"Unbutton your top."
The words that had started everything this morning turned around on Paris.
"Huh?" Paris felt her shyness come back.
"Unbutton your top." She was shocked to see Lorelai move her hands to the remaining three buttons on her sweater. "You need to prove Jamie wrong, that you are beautiful. He should never take you for granted like he has."
"Lorelai..." Her soft, hushed voice was distracted as the woman undid that fourth button. The plunge of the slip dress was now prominent and clear, a deep, wide 'V' defining Lorelai's visible cleavage.
"You need to stop thinking of yourself as dowdy and unwanted. Look at yourself, and know that you're more than just who you think you are." Sucking on her lip, she rewet it, to draw Paris in. "I want to see every button opened and what you hide beneath your layers, both physically and emotionally."
Paris's heart beat faster as her hands moved towards the collar button, tight against her throat. She felt so nervous, off her track. Only minutes before, she was concerned about her cash count, nothing else.
Now she was concerned about how Lorelai would judge her. She wasn't the best looking woman ever and she knew that. Rory scored Jess, proving once again innocence wins out over drive.
But she had to do it. Lorelai had put her up to a challenge and she couldn't turn it down. No matter that she felt so nervous she was digging two nails in her free hand so deep in her palm, she was almost drawing blood.
She approached the first button, the collar button. It was tight and took a few extra seconds to work. She was trying to tug it open, hard, usually apt to opening it before bed, when all her stress was gone.
Instead of sliding out elegantly, it popped from the collar and went cross the room when the threads snapped. Paris would never see any disappointment with her lack of suaveness from Lorelai, who gave her a smile, and then encouragement that she wanted more. Her eyes never left Lorelai's.
The second button was just as slow. And the third. She was nervous about the fourth, which showed the beginnings of her cleavage. Hyperventilating, she watched Lorelai's eyes lower down further with each release of a blouse button. She felt so exposed, slowly seduced by a Chilton mother. The fourth button slid open easily. It was the first card laid down as to whether Lorelai would keep the 'beautiful' opinion she had.
The reaction on her face, widened eyes, and retracting pupils, encouraged the blonde. An 'mmmm' from Lorelai's throat. Her hands nervously playing at the topmost of the two remaining buttons. The first sign of Paris's deep cleavage, presented to her. Probably never closely looked at by Jamie.
The lace of the pink bra coming out of hiding...Lorelai felt herself starting to slicken up. Paris wasn't dressed to lure, but that she wrapped her assets in the finest silk and lace available, it made her wet in anticipation. Her eyes stayed on Paris's breast as she opened button five...now a little bow was visible between each cup. Fuck!
Paris noticed the staring and was starting to get turned on by the blatant look of the older Gilmore. She only had one thing to say about it.
"You need to stop looking at my boobs."
Unlike before though, a hint of amused mischief was in Paris's voice, one Lorelai had never heard before. An encouragement to never stop looking at Paris's goods.
"Why," Lorelai suggested, smiling. "You want to get a look at mine?"
"Not yet..." Paris whispered. "...soon."
Buttonwise, they were now synchronized together. Two buttons left for Lorelai, and for Paris. The heat in the room was becoming unbearable, as the clock ticked off yet another minute, loudly.
The next buttons were undone, leaving them both with one to go. Paris's belly was partially exposed, what was a turn-off for Jamie that he encouraged Paris to firm up. But Lorelai had another idea.
"How ticklish are you down there?"
Paris shook her head. "I wouldn't know."
"I'd like to grasp right there, watching you laugh...mmm."
"Get over here, Gilmore." Paris took Lorelai by the waist, eliciting a shriek. "We're ending it with this last button. You undo mine, I undo yours."
"Yes, ma'am!" Lorelai saluted, earning a trademark eyeroll. "Uh, yes, Paris? Or yes, Miss Gellar?"
"I go by Ms. I don't go by terms created by the patriarchy." Paris looked down at her hands, now on the big button holding the sweater to Lorelai's bosom.
"How about...Par?" Lorelai smiled, her hands sliding down Paris until they came together at the bottom button.
"That works." Paris, who only moments before was glum, was now smiling as at the same time her and Lorelai undid the last of their buttons. She was surprised how much she was getting into the seduction. Then both of them got out of their various shirts, Lorelai helping Paris with her cuff buttons as they slid out of the articles of clothing, together. Both of them were getting so hot for each other, the boiling point coming soon.
But first, the point of Lorelai divesting Paris of her top. As Paris eyed up the tall beauty in the leopard print slip dress, she noticed exactly how turned on Lorelai was. The straps of the dress fell down at her shoulders, exposing more of the creamy skin of the woman than usual. She couldn't help but notice the reason Lorelai most likely had to wear the sweater.
Her nipples were so hard. She couldn't make out the shape of her areoles, but the prominent nubs showed how turned on Lorelai was.
"You really haven't had good sex in a long time, have you?" Paris said matter-of-factly. Lorelai shook her head, and then grasped Paris at her sides, turning her around so she was back-to-front with her.
"If you only knew," she said, running her hands up the girl's sides, the soft skin of the beauty like satin in her grasp. "How far have you two gotten since the first time?"
"We had sex," Paris said, like there wasn't any other kind.
"Duh, I knew that...but has he done other things with you?" She could sense the girl wasn't shy, so dirty talk was perfectly acceptable. "Does he worship you, like the beautiful woman you are? Bend down at your feet and taste of your nectar?"
Paris tightened up in Lorelai's grasp. "Does he love to lavish your breasts, kiss them, play with them?" She palmed Paris's attributes through the bra, her middle and ring finger sliding against the nipples. "Just feel you up?"
"Oh, God. No, he doesn't." Paris felt a soft pinch, Lorelai rolling the tender appendages around her fingers. "He just paws them up...he freaked me out once. Disgusting thing, he wanted to put his penis---"
"Shh, I would never do that," Lorelai whispers into her ear, knowing exactly what he suggested. "Fucking lame imagination if you ask me, because I can imagine so many other things I could do to you."
"Lorelai..." She was starting to gasp as Lorelai's breath tickled at her ears. "I've always wished for them to be suckled on...so damned hot. Wanting them nipped and played with, tongue licking against them. Suctioning...I sometimes do that when I masturbate."
"Dammn, and I thought your imagination was used for other things! Looks like I've got some things to learn from you." She moved her fingers up the exposed flesh of each breast, getting to know the lay of the land. "Tell me if I find the right spot...please." She slid her hands freely against Paris, surprised with how receptive she was to this attention. Her thoughts that Paris wouldn't be into anything were quickly disappearing into the ether.
Paris loved and preferred the feminine touch of Lorelai's hand. The roughness and pawing of Jamie never turned her on in just about any way, but those thin innkeeper's hands were just the perfect thing to lift her from what seemed to be a permanent bad mood. Pushing her straps to the side, Lorelai exposed more of the sensitive skin, her other hand moving from the right breast and down towards her stomach, finding the spot where she was most apt to be aroused.
The olive skin in her hands, a reminder of Paris's Spanish ancestry, was beautiful but always hidden. Lorelai could never understand why kept under wraps, for it was the most beautiful tone she had ever seen. Paris took good care of her skin, and it showed, even with a sheen of sweat over it. She was quickly becoming insatiable for the girl her daughter topped in the final grade rankings.
Paris moaned softly with each new touch at Lorelai's hand, from the bottom of her stomach to beneath her underarm as Lorelai's hand raked under it to get the bra strap as low as she possibly could without breaking it. "I want to taste you," she said breathlessly, her formerly stubborn straightness quickly becoming a victim of the cyclone that was the woman named for the City of Lights. "And kiss you. Just kiss you, please."
"Do my bra first," Paris commanded. "It needs to be out of the way...oh fuck! My nipples, so hard! Ohhhhh!" Paris shut her eyes tight, deep into the pleasures Lorelai was giving her. Never had her body reacted like this. It was a full assault on her senses, including the way they smelled. Seemingly, they mixed perfectly together, combined.
Adept after so many years of releasing her bra through her blouse before she got out of the Jeep at home every night, Lorelai made quick work of the three-snap bra, getting the pink article off the girl in record time. She struggled to keep her slip dress on, the tightness of her breasts and the cling of perspiration the only things keeping it on. Paris could be the one to do the honors of getting it off from her, though as she turned around to have Paris face her, the left strap came apart, drooping the satin garment down and exposing a bit of her small nipple.
That was the first thing that landed Paris's attention as they faced each other once again. Paris's heart beat fast within her chest and Lorelai was shocked with how beautiful the girl was without a top. The silhouette of her alone could probably make her cum, but to see both of those nipples exposed together, it was a sight to behold. After having to face down her male lovers with hair-filled chests for so long, she could only think that Paris's busty profile was such a hot turn-on to her.
She would for sure not imagine Brad Pitt's bare chest as a substitute as she and Paris came together.
They watched each other, eye to eye, Paris flushed red from the sudden interest from Ms. Gilmore in her. Gold flecks in her eyes, warm and welcoming of the silly lady in front of her.
Paris then brought herself close as Lorelai did and they met at the same place with a soft, loving kiss that was unlike any ever had in both their sexual histories.
There was no pause or 'how do I kiss?' question afterwards, as it was quickly followed by a kiss, and then another, and then another, their lips crashing together, both of them whimpering into their mouths, turned on, pushed together. The space in front of the chalkboard wasn't enough; they needed something else to continue on.
Her upper lip discolored by Lorelai's smeared lip color, Paris pushed Lorelai away to ask her a question, deep and frenzied. "Max ever fuck you on the desk?" The profanity was said rough and demanding. She yanked at Lorelai's hair as she tried to flare her up further...make it clear that no guilt was to be felt by her that she was too young to decide where the situation was going to go.
"Noo..." Lorelai rushed out. "He was a neat freak!"
"Glad I'm not then!" The smaller girl's 130 pounds went to better use than Lorelai's 115 as her strength pushed the taller woman to the teacher's desk. "Not like Mr. Ernesto gives a damn!" With a hard shove, Lorelai came down onto the hard oak top of the desk, her inner knees meeting perfectly with the edge and giving her the perfect place to sit as Paris's ministrations moved down her neck, her tongue sliding down, taking each and every inch of the woman possible. The salty taste, mixed in with what she thought was a brown sugar body spray. Paris always imagined that Lorelai would probably taste like a jelly doughnut if food was detectable through the skin...to her, this was much, much more enjoyable. She kissed along the woman's clavicle, pushing the remaining strap off to the side, taking in all of Lorelai that she possibly could. Looking up towards her face, Paris saw Lorelai's mouth opened wide, heavy breath forced from her lungs, with deep breaths coming in, her eyes retracted inward as she tried to look at Paris kissing her below. The woman encouraged the girl, hands sliding within the strands of hair cascading down towards the small of her back.
Winded by her desire, Lorelai felt no need to stop the foreplay, despite a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that she should stop. She had so many excuses in her mind to have Paris stop, including the fact that she was now cheating on her boyfriend, someone that she claimed to love. But as Paris's mouth continued along her chest, she found her willpower and morality fading quickly.
However, she felt a panic, which had been instilled in her the day her parents found out about her pregnancy, all her years ago. This is wrong, I shouldn't be doing this. What am I doing, encouraging her? This isn't how I should kill a drought in the love department, taking advantage of a distressed girl with boy problems! She started to breathe deeply, a stinging ache sinking down into her stomach. They were acting only on lustful desire, nothing else. That's what Lorelai's logic wanted her to believe, to voice those concerns before going further with Paris. From her base knowledge of Paris's psychology, she was having one of her moments of temporary clarity she was apt to having before reminding herself that she was forever to be unhappy and sullen.
As doubts set in, Lorelai was shocked to find Paris moving her dominant left hand down towards the hem of her dress. She brought herself forward, forcing Lorelai into a laying position, Paris directing a heated look up her freckled skin. Her heart pounded within her chest, the authoritative manner of the girl getting to her.
The kissing continued, all over her front, from the top of her neck and then towards the neck of her dress. Meanwhile Paris's hand continued working up her dress, the thin material pooling up in a heap as she pushed the hem higher and higher. Lorelai's breathing became shallow and deep as the fingers teased at her knee, the small fingernails of the girl doing a bit of a tickle that forced a bit of a tiny shriek from the older woman's throat. Her view was filled with Paris's breasts dipped down, freed of the usual stiff bra, at her abdomen. Never in a million years could she have ever thought such a plain girl overly obsessed with her GPA could ever be such a temptress.
She lay back, taking it all in, trying to figure out in her mind whether this was right, wrong, whatever it was. It was a muddle as the lust mixed with her thoughts, the heated stare from Paris's usually stern brown eyes overpowering her small voice which asked her to put the brakes on everything.
But once Paris breached her thigh, however, Lorelai was lost and overpowered. She pushed up with her arms to slant her body, trying to help Paris find the zipper to her dress in the back.
No need; Paris was beyond taken with the woman and found her own shortcut to get at Lorelai's breasts. Her mouth near a nipple, the strength in her right index finger tugged at the right strap of the slip dress, and it came apart rather easily. Throwing the strap to the side, Paris pulled the fabric in front of the breast down, her mouth taking in the peaked nipple almost immediately.
The overwhelming stimulation forced out a scream from Lorelai. "OHH GOOOD!!" She applied some suction, the nipple stiff against the roof of her mouth as her hand continued higher up Lorelai's skirt. The older woman was a whole mess of nerves, her defenses fully down. I can't imagine any kind of quip to take me out of this situation, she thought, Paris's bottom row of teeth brushied against the oversensitized bud.
Lorelai's left hand was along the waist of Paris's skirt, struggling to find the clasp, as her other grasped the desk. Cursing herself for not remembering back from her Hillside days where the clasp was, she went for the left and the right, trying to look for it.
What she didn't expect, though, was the blonde taking her by the wrist and pushing it away from her.
Damn it, I've gone too far! Lorelai prepared herself for a scolding and a long car ride home around the Hartford loop to expend the radiating energy going through. I'm in LeTourneau territory; she's just waking up to that.
Rather than the hand being shoved away however, Paris instead moved it so it could inch up her thigh, and helped her slide it up the stiff, plaid article. At first, Lorelai was confused, until the whispered words of the teenager gave Lorelai a peek into her mind.
"Ms. Gilmore," she said, looking down at her, a smile of guilty pleasures sliding onto her face. "I think it more appropriate for you to have me in the skirt."
A new shockwave went through Lorelai's spine, the way the sentence was put to her giving her a tingle. "What do you mean?"
"Well," she cooed, "think about it. Your eyes have been where most of this afternoon in the dull periods between sales?"
"On the change?" Lorelai cracked. Paris shook her head and started to walk her fingers up with the hem of Lorelai's skirt, much to her distraction.
"I'm afraid I can't believe you on that." She pushed deeper within the dress. "You've been looking at me since that hug, just thinking about what it would be like to have someone you know, regularly, that you can't have." Mid-thigh level. "You know, forbidden fruit."
"Paris, I don't think of you in that way," Lorelai offered. "Seriously."
"I meant within the commoner's reference, not yours." Her kisses trail down the woman's neck. "I know you want me, but you're trying to keep yourself from doing anything because you think that because you're 35, you have to settle down." She starts to feel her voice shake as Lorelai's hand moves up her own skirt. "Max, for example. Nice guy, good brain, probably quite nice in bed. Eventually, however, not husband material. That one guy you were seeing earlier this year, was it...Alex?" Lorelai tries to answer, but even she can't come up with a name. "See, so unremarkable he could be anyone!" Lorelai didn't even dare ask how Paris knew so much about her sex life, owing it to Rory talking about it while bored at lunch.
"How does that prove that I may be looking at a different sexual preference?" Lorelai asks through her lust. "Maybe I've chosen to stay off the market; have you thought of that?"
"Strangely, I have considered it," Paris responded. "I'm just going on today mostly, but you can't deny we share sparks."
Lorelai thought about moving her hands out, the reality of where she was, and who was above her, setting in. "I agree, but Paris, you're still much, much younger than me and there is no normal way to justify whatever I might feel for you sexually."
"True, unless..." she started working the dress up the older woman's long legs. "...you consider that though your educational and physical ages dwarf mine, I think that romantically, you're still a college junior."
"What, I'm considering moving on to the NFL to place kick for the Jets?" Paris didn't say anything except to give Lorelai a glare from her eyes. "I can handle adult relationships, really."
"As long as they don't last longer than a year," the blonde counteracted. She pushed her thigh blatantly closer as her fingers circled Lorelai's inner thighs, a small distance from her apex. "Face it, you have an intimacy complex as far as men go, going back to high school." She continued to turn on Lorelai through this odd form of psychological foreplay. "Inside of you, there's that side of you attracted to women, the one you keep hidden under the pretense of a girl crush or something to crack wise on. Something you hid because Emily will condemn you further, or wouldn't be conducive to your business, many other factors." Her hand starts to push down the other strap of the slip dress. "That's what came out when you started to suddenly realize that you never considered me before, but I'm sexually attractive to you."
The response from Lorelai was silent, her mind concentrating on the lacy circling just below her panty-covered slit. Her last intimate session with Christopher hadn't been like this at all; really all through the years they knew each other, he was more about basic missionary stimulation, only going down to hasten a fading orgasm. Max had gotten her off manually a few times, but he never teased her like Paris was. Her hips rose up to meet non-existent thrusts, her body all too used to it from self-stimulation from her own digits.
"Ohhhhh..." Lorelai bit the inside her cheeks, more of her skin being exposed as Paris continued to slide down the dress. "Paris, I...honestly, I never did before now." She slid her hands further up the thick thighs of the young woman, smooth as every other inch of her olive-tinged skin.
"It's OK," she reassured, "I thought you were also verboten, that this would never happen in real life."
"It's just that...you seem to be hurting and you always put so much into things." Paris moved herself to be face-to-face, nose-to-nose with Lorelai. "You're insane about preparation and from hearing about your woes this afternoon, you're thinking that sex is something that will lead you to be unsatisfied." Paris nodded affirmatively, confirming Lorelai's inference. "You were so happy three months ago after your first time, and now you just seem overly distracted about keeping him pleased."
Their breathing continued to deepen as the conversation was mixed with stimulation between the ladies. "His pleasure...it's fine." Paris frowns. "It's just mine that seems to be broken."
Lorelai is shocked. "What's the problem?"
"It's nothing, really."
"Don't deny it, I think I can help you out with that."
"No, it isn't," Paris said, doubting herself. She looks down, her hands at Lorelai's shoulders. "Sometimes I just have problems...problems doing, having..." There was no easy way for Paris to say it, and she clammed up, trying to retract within to hide how she felt.
However, Lorelai could read her face, and the issue was clear as day. Obviously, Louise had gotten to her with the old wives' tales about how sex was supposed to be, according to Brat Pack and Vivid Video films. The blonde looked down at herself, starting to retract her hand from Lorelai's thigh. The idea was upsetting to her and the older woman had to make it clear that it was never her fault for having such a sex drive.
"Hey," she cooed softly, setting her hand atop of Paris's. "You'd be shocked to learn that sometimes, I do meet the Jamie definition of 'broken'." The blonde's wide gaze moved up, and she re-wetted her lips, mouth dropped open. There is no way! She exclaimed silently, thinking the lady was kidding about admitting to a sexual dysfunction.
"You?" She smiled, biting down on her lip. "You seem like you'd be easily pleased."
"Sometimes when I was with both Max or Chris, I..." she shook her head. "Let's just say that sometimes their idea of foreplay is to rush their own cum rather than help mine. Last year when I did it with Rory's father, I..." the innkeeper blushed, feeling strange to admit it.
"So even you fake it sometimes," Paris said to her without any niceties. "I would have never guessed."
"How about you?" Lorelai inquired, knowing the girl might be shy about sharing the information.
"Six out of ten," Paris admitted, heavily hesitant. "And he hasn't even attempted to go down on me."
"Just like a man, wanting you to be like a lamprey on his cock, but if you want the favor returned, you have to beg and plead." She slid her hand further up Paris's thigh as she continued to go on with the unexpected seduction. "How long might I ask he lasts?" She carefully watched the signs of Paris squirming, the skirt lifting and exposing more of the young woman's perfectly curvy form, her thighs so enticing.
"He...he lasts," Paris tried to keep her concentration, "...only 4-7 minutes."
Paris inched up further with her own hand, starting to feel Lorelai's heat radiate as she neared her core. She stiffened, Paris's voice and actions stiffening her straining nipples further. "That's it?" Further up for both of them...
"If I'm lucky, I can get five minutes out of him. The worst is when he goes into me half-hard...ohhh. Lorelai..." Her concentration on the subject was becoming lost as the back of Lorelai's hand brushed against her panties. "Sometimes he won't even finish inside of me."
"Oh dear, I can't have that for you!" Lorelai was getting all riled up, feeling as if she was competing with Jamie. Her fingers did a walk up the rest of her thighs. "Without that you must have to finish yourself!"
"I do...all the time. Even my few orgasms during have been pithy, not like I've done when I rub myself." Lorelai felt the silk crotch of her panties softly, not wanting to startle the girl. She was being careful, treading lightly, knowing the worst touch could cause the girl to be startled, ruining the progress. The hiss from Paris was enough to tell her she was doing it right. "He doesn't really tease at all, like you're doing, it's not as if I can set an atmosphere. Even when we flew up to Martha's after Prom; it was bad, he spent only ten minutes...he was so tired."
"You like this?" Lorelai continued to experiment, dipping the fingers along the crease of Paris's slit through her panties. "How about that, does that work?"
"Ms. Gilmore...oh, wow." Paris began to rock her hips, letting a rhythm build up as Lorelai slowly stroked against her lips. "Continue that, please, it works."
"You're so wet," Lorelai comments, starting to dirty talk her again. "For such a girl who claims to be indifferent to me, you seem a little more slick than expected."
"It's your voice, it soothes...mmm." She smiled, moving her own hand higher and higher up Lorelai's bare legs. "Tell me what you're thinking right now, Ms. Gilmore. What you want me to do."
"I've been so hot all day, it's so stifling in here...The dress keeps sticking to me, I love having the sweater off finally."
"What are you thinking?" Paris bared her teeth and then started kissing at the freckled skin of Lorelai's upper torso. "I bet you never thought I'd look at you in this dress and think I wanted it off." Other hand to the upper thigh, denying the woman, teasing her more.
"The way you were looking at me all day, it had your attention." Nipping at her skin, Paris slowly kissed her way to the remaining strap. "I love to dress to flirt."
"Anything to get the cash, right?" The blonde giggled, loving the opportunity to relax for once. "I saw you a couple times giving a couple guys a peek of the goods."
"What can I say, I lost my shame with my virginity." Lorelai watched the girl react to her touches, enjoying the fact that even Paris was vulnerable to her 35 year-old charms. She continued to stroke the girl through her underwear, the sharp breathing beginning to kill the conversation quickly. She pushed closer, rocking back and forth, diving into Lorelai's fingers, the stimulation getting to Paris. She was getting worked up in the right way.
Paris also continued to tease Lorelai, pulling down the remaining strap of the dress with her teeth. She pushed the cup covering her breast down slowly, watching Lorelai breathe deeply as the material brushed against the sensitive nipple. Lorelai called out her name, whispered, the feel of the girl's teeth dragging against the outer areola sending the right tremors. She made her way up Lorelai's leg until she was near her ass, and where her panties would start. She went forward, up Lorelai's thighs until she reached the woman's center, wanting to rub her through her panties.
Imagine Paris's surprise when she ended up fisting a smidgen of skin, instead, mixed in with some well-trimmed hair. Along with that, a slickness of moisture dripped onto her fingers.
"Oh God, dammmn!!" Lorelai backed up a little, the touch shocking her open, and she spread her legs out a bit. "Par..." Lorelai still kept her hand stroking Paris, however, though she had to watch her be shocked by the sudden discovery.
Paris was speechless, except in her mind. Fuck! She had known Lorelai to play with sex a lot, but to go to a private school for a funding event in nothing but a dress and two heels?
Lorelai, noticing her shock, pushed into the girl, the top part of her dress falling to her waist at her belly. She was so warmed, turned on...the way Paris looked at her, it made her drip even more.
"Wh-wh-wh...where are your...you know?" Paris was at a loss for words.
Thankfully, Ms. Gilmore was not. "My hamper," she said, her voice deepening, and other hand moving to solidify Paris's hand right there. "Laundry day. I was one day early, one pair short." A gulp from Paris, her mind in a million different directions.
"Ms. Gilmore..." Paris slid her finger in a little, exploring Lorelai's lips further. "What were you thinking?" She heard the woman gasp again, as she moved up the desk for a better position.
"That I wasn't wearing any underwear." She smiled, Paris's hand tightening along her trunk. "I often put off lingerie loads for as long as I can in these months. It's another layer unneeded, especially in a suit." Around the outside of her lips, she probed further, finding the woman to be trimmed perfectly. "You know how fucking sexy it is, being bored at the Inn, just heading into your office and frigging yourself off during a conference call with the hotel local union?"
Paris shook her head. "Not in this skirt." Her mind started making out the shape of Lorelai's trim. "So damp...damn!"
"Work your fingers in," she begged. "Come on, I know you want to. I need you, Paris, come on."
"Lorelai..." At the same time, Lorelai stroked around her, pushing the skirt up so it tucked into the waistband. "I want to."
"Then do it!" Ms. Gilmore cried out. "Come on, let me feel you."
The stares towards each other were challenging, like they were sizing each other up, trying to find that perfect rhythm. Their inner turmoil, the fact that this was a parent about to have sex with a student; it was overwhelmed by the situation. Both of them, anticipating, forgetting all their baggage in the moment. Paris slid a finger in a tentative manner along Lorelai's outer lips. She pushed up the hem of the dress with her other hand to expose Lorelai fully, her long legs looking so much more enticing as she exposed her upper thighs. She went in a circle to start with, going with what she usually did when she was by herself. She was challenged, going by Lorelai's movements to gauge how she was doing.
Whatever she was doing, it was working. Lorelai spread her legs out to allow more access, pushing up the dress a little more to expose herself so that Paris could look at her fully. A perfectly formed triangle, sort of with a downward-pointing chevron on the top side, along her sex. Paris licked her lips, a short breath giving Lorelai the reaction she was looking for. She smiled as Paris circled her, sliding up towards her clit. The surprise that Paris started out slow, it made her feel special.
Light pressure applied, she went from one stimulating finger, to two, her middle and index caressing each lip. Lorelai bucked up, the reaction so familiar from masturbating herself, but in a deeper way. The tingles up her body caused a whimper to go through her. She whispered the girl's name with each stroke, wanting to keep up the good pace.
In the meantime, Lorelai kept caressing Paris through her underwear, keeping her just as distracted. Instead of circles, she went with an up and down motion along her cleft, dipping three fingers in near her clit to simulate thrusting, going in and out. The silk heightened the feelings, Paris keeping her eyes on Lorelai, at the same time growling beneath her breath with each plunge. She was surprised at how wet she was getting. But she was also beginning to associate the colors pastel green and pink with the Stars Hollow mother. I never thought of fingernail polish as a turn-on, she thought, the green-pink-green combo doing the right things to her.
Small words, cursing, it could all be heard as the remaining papers on the top side of the desktop fell off as the lovemaking became more rushed with each new test of their erogenous zones. Along her sides, Lorelai was ticklish, while Paris was apt to laugh and shriek when fingers were along her underarms, and the bottom of her ass, but especially along her belly. Lorelai would keep touching her there and enjoyed the exclamation of "Lor!!! Stop it...oh God!!" when she touched her there. The kissing continued, Paris staying along Lorelai's sensitive neck, while the other woman naturally went with playful nips along her clavicle, down her cleavage, leaving nibbles on and around each breast, her lip color staining the usually hidden olive skin with marks of 'Dahlia Red.' The girl was insatiable, at times pushing down Lorelai's head to keep her attention on her chest.
"Oh...yeah...yeah, Ms. Gilmore!" Paris screamed as Lorelai's strokes sped up.
"That's Lorelai, please," she corrected, "don't make me feel like my mother in this situation." She smirked at the girl, who nodded.
"I didn't mean to," Paris soothed, and then circled Lorelai's clit faster. They continued on, both of them frenzied, exploring each other, unbelieving at what was happening between them. Paris's kisses along her partner's jaw line were getting to the woman, falling deeper and deeper into the spell that Paris was casting on her. She couldn't believe it, the girl wasn't getting enough of her, and before she could even fathom, Paris was beginning to thrust two fingers into her, the opening well lubricated with her arousal. She reacted to this, shrieking out loud and holding onto Paris's hair at the back tightly.
"Oh God!!! Fuck!!!" She was being dominated by her and Lorelai wanted to make it known that she was the older one with more experience between them. Pumping in and out, she began to focus on the girl's sexual fulfillment, nipples hardening, her petite body drawn tightly against Lorelai's tall form. Her thrusts didn't stop, but when Paris was in a weak moment, pushing in a third finger, she shoved the crotch of the heiress's underwear aside, exposing her damp mound.
"Uhhh...oh...ohhhhhh!!" Cold air made her shudder, and the soft fingers even more as Lorelai played with her swollen clit. "Damn it!!" She couldn't believe how sensitive she was around, especially away from Jamie. Never had she been so stirred up before, willing to go all the way, the both of them going right in without the usual fretting, talking, then consent. But Lorelai knew Paris wanted to get off...her fiery and sexually furious eyes saying it all.
Paris pushed her panties down to her knees and then let Lorelai re-enter her as they both repositioned themselves, eye-to-eye and hand to hand. Starting with a slow pace, their fingers played at each other's clits, both of the women breathing deeply, wanting, and holding back screams and groans as they pushed against each other. Legs spread wide, Paris encouraged the elder Gilmore to spread out more, having the advantage on top. She watched the woman, hoping whatever she was doing was the right thing, going with a mix of circling and thrusting to tease the woman through a mix of clitoral and vaginal stimulation.
Lorelai was just as encouraging, using her fingers to spread the girl's pussy out more. Oh wow, she thought to herself, is she sure she's not a virgin anymore? She was surprisingly tight and Lorelai guessed that Jamie wasn't going in all the way, just enough to tickle and get at his own spot, nothing else. She pushed two knuckles against her walls, pushing in and out...
"Ssssssaaaaaiiiiee!!" Paris was getting even more wound up, sucking in her breath as the new stimulation got to her. "Lorrrrr!!!!"
Paris nodded. "Shit!" She pushed her fingers deeper within Lorelai, trying to find the spot. "What are you doing to me?"
"I'd ask you...the same.,..thing..." Pushed up against each other, Paris moved her other hand to Lorelai's firm butt to get a grip on things. "Yeah...yeah...Paris...yeah...."
"Tell me if I'm doing right to you...please....oohhhhh...." She tightened her eyes closed, teeth gritting together, finding Lorelai teasingly near her most sensitive spot. She kept looking, feeling...Lorelai had her hand sliding down from her hair, towards the small of her back. She wished she could unsnap to skirt, but held back, no matter how tight Paris felt.
Paris tossed her hair back, wanting to look at the woman without interference as Lorelai pushed closer and closer to where Jamie never ventured.
The brunette could swear that was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen in her life. The solitary girl who lived to torment her daughter, tormented herself.
But not in my arms. In and out, in and out, her fingers kept steady, knuckles against her walls, until her finger drifted a few millimeters off center, where she expected nothing to happen.
Paris stiffened at that moment and found herself convulsing, the small fingertips getting right where there needed. Despite the setting, she screamed, loud and hard, her eyes focused on the ceiling above.
Her hand went deeper, hand gripping tightly at a cheek as the first reaction went through her, so unexpected and so right to her. Her mind couldn't even think, pleasure overwhelming words. Jamie had never got her right there, at all. She was so convinced he never would, that the idea of one pleasurable point within her vulva was considered by her to be a 'fake sexual fact planted by the sex industry to convince the female populace of an area resembling a female equivalent of the prostate which brings about the same euphoria in women which men have.'
She owed Sue Johanson a BIG apology. Her panting became rushed, tight, closer together, and it encouraged Paris to push her hand deeper within Lorelai. It didn't take so long after to find Lorelai's own spot, the deep blue stare widening in front of her, fingers right where she needed. Lorelai bucked up against Paris furiously, then down, and then up, keeping the touches along her clit and inside for as long as she could ride it out.
"Oh Par...oh Par...oh, oh, oh Par...yesssss!" The truncated name was repeated over and over again, both women heading towards full satisfaction. The kissing between them became deeper, the touching with open hands frenzied, trying to find a spot to drive each other crazy. Lorelai went with the underside of Paris's breast, as Paris found the other woman's abdomen perfect. Screaming into each other's mouths, sweat dripping from the both of them, the scene was undoubtedly touching and beautiful, with a touch of sudden sexual magnetism within everything to keep things in perspective.
The young woman pushed close against Lorelai, her voice hoarse. "Lorelai...I...I...come on. Baby, I'm almost there."
"Me too, honey, we're doing this together, please, come for me, spill...over." She was being driven nuts by belly circles and touching, nipple against nipple, on both sides. Paris's hair, hanging down from her scalp, like a golden curtain. "So tight...I can feel you pump so hard, oh, you're wet."
"Same with you...dripping." Paris smiled, the stimulation against Lorelai's budding clit so much to bear. Even the sexually experienced woman hadn't felt this way, for at least years. It was an orgasm, on her terms, something the one-nighters and her former fiancé could never bring her to. She couldn't compare to Christopher, but she had a feeling that her fifteen year-old self was always under the impression that one of her own sex could never bring her to this point. Paris's hand nested in her deep hair, her nose crinkled as the stimulation spread throughout her, the familiar tingling of the orgasm beginning to arise.
She thought that she could never compare to Jamie when it came to Paris's own pleasure, but the fountain was topped over. Their lovemaking had been gentle, experimental, the very essence of an Ivy League couple.
Paris still had an SAT analogy ready to go in her mind, despite the focus on her fulfillment. This just feels damned good! Like the good girl got seduced by the hot mom in the class. She now knew exactly why the juvenile boys of the senior class put $15 a head on being with Chilton's ultimate Mother I'd Like to...well, spend time getting to know in an intimate matter. Paris couldn't bring herself to categorize this encounter as needing that last letter/word combo to complete the phrase.
Still, they were in the moment, no thought put in beyond that Jamie was treating Paris awful, and Lorelai's vibrator needed a rest. Paris started to feel her body overtake with a dizzying, relaxing feeling, her shoulders hunching up involuntarily with each new thrust in. She watched her own work below, Lorelai's voice deepening as excitement went through the tall woman. Their lips met one last time, for a long, deep, and meaningful French kiss. The taste of Paris's imported strong mints mixed with the permanent flavor of Lorelai's coffee and cream-flavored mouth. They pushed tighter, legs joining in to bring off the orgasm faster and faster. Thought was lost, morals were off, and it was just them, having an intimate moment, the rush of a raw fuck in the classroom giving them enough of a drive to get past their last gates.
"Lorelai...oh my God...Lorelai!!" Her eyes were closed, but Lorelai went in for a last bite along the top of her lip to call on one last request.
"Keep them open, I wanna see them roll back," a few more strokes. "The best part of sex is watching...this moment...the both of us..." Despite her usual tendencies, Paris opened her eyes again, the eye-closing habit picked up after Jamie finished a session of oral by having her spit his cum right back out while she was on her knees. The fingernails curled in place, three fingers in, tightened against Par's walls. "Feel you spill out...me too..."
"I can taste you...I want to...come on, show me Lorelai, come for me...slicken my fingers for me..." Their voices gruff, the classroom with the unmistakable scent of their passion. "Baby...baby..."
Lorelai couldn't stand it anymore, the way Paris used the endearment, it got to her so much. She tightened further around the slim fingers. "Paris, please, do it, bring me off!"
"Lorrrr..." the syllable rolled from the blonde's tongue. "Oh God, oh God, oh God...Goddddd..." The warm feeling began to shoot through her. "Come on, I'm there, I'm there!!"
"Me too...oh fuck!" Eyes stayed on each other. "Paaaarrr...aauuuugggghhh..." They both cried out at the same time, their releases working through them before they could fathom it. Both were tightened against each other, hands stroking clits, both of them keeping their focus as they watched each other ride it out. Paris couldn't believe what was happening to her, her past encounters not ending up with her pelvis completely tightening up before her orgasm. With a flush face, she hyperventilated through each wave, calling out Lorelai's name in a high-pitched whimper, finding any thoughts of Jamie to be eradicated when it came to comparison.
She stared down at the woman below her, toes meeting Lorelai's still-on heels (How very porn flick of me, Lorelai thought internally), arms wrapped possessively at her petite waist. Lorelai found herself crashing over each final stroke of Paris's doing, hair hanging out of place, dress wrinkled into a thin heap just above her belly, trying to wrap her mind around the entire situation. All she could do at that moment was watch the damage she had wrought with Paris, hair cascading down, breasts going to and fro, the academic's body being so unlike the dull and unexciting woman she always thought of beneath the uniform of Chilton Academy.
Slowly, the effects started to work off, Paris able to ride out the newly-found peak for as long as a couple minutes, while the more in tune body of the older woman had a smaller, but no less passionate fulfillment of a minute and a half. They kept saying each other's names in gratitude, slowly settling themselves down before they felt a quiet intimacy develop between them, their tight bodies strained by the sexual tension of the day, finally released. As Paris felt the remainders of her orgasm slip out, she collapsed upon the taller woman, against her chest and wrapped her arms around the woman as she returned herself to whom she thought she was, the unflappable taskmaster that could make even Walter Cronkite shake in fear at her strength.
Some more silent moments were shared, her brain still in an overload contemplating the actions of the last half-hour. For her, this was a huge shock to the system, always being organized with how she was and prepared for what exactly came with being a sexual being. If she were to listen to her mother, sex was about satisfying the other partner, not asking too much of them when it came to your own stimulation, and being happy with what you have, no matter how it may pale to the fantasy of it all. That was how it was with Jamie, how it was supposed to be.
She didn't know if she could go back to that after this encounter. To hear Lorelai go from whimpering in her presence to warn Rory away from the booth via her cell, to complimenting her plain and understated beauty and giving her the advice she craved, Paris felt her respect and admiration soar for the older brunette. She especially was shocked that Lorelai kept her arms wrapped around her, keeping her in a hug, even after the sexual moment had ended, leading into the afterglow. Jamie would have already been up and changing into pajamas after cuddling for a small few minutes.
The hotelier, on the other hand, was spent and relieved that Paris had turned out to have more up her sleeve than meets the eye. She was utterly fulfilled, her desires tamed and body relaxed for the first time since she got the overnight call that the Independence was being consumed in an inferno. The stress of the two months, trying to line up a temp job while hoping the Dragonfly situation would go her way, those were out of her head temporarily, the smaller and younger woman laying atop of her enough to make her remember that youth was still with her, and she was blessed, in many ways.
I still can't believe...that...it turned into this. She intended to give Paris only advice, but instead found her latent attraction for the smart girl coming out of hiding, the protective layers of town opinion and that of her daughter and mother gone, giving her leeway to flirt with her. She never imagined that flirting and teasing would turn into them hooking up in a classroom, much less in the space of a few housrs.
She also knew that her comfort zone and the rules of her self-created handbook had been violated. She never expected to have romantic feelings for a woman, much less someone who, like her, book-ended the ages of a demographic group well-tracked by marketers. She expected Paris to be passive, but in the end, both of them were beyond aggressive in their style of lovemaking.
They both were thinking of the future in that moment, within each other's sexual histories (Female experience, check! Paris thought, her mind having the picture of her iCal's to-do list within). However, they were still close to each other, still hugging, not wanting to let go. The moment was overwhelming and beautiful, both girls not ready to leave.
Silence continued as the afterglow settled, until the sound of a high tone coming from the intercom speaker shook them out of their tired gazes and warm embracing.
"Damn it," Paris groaned, "the warning bell for five o'clock."
"Is that when we have to leave?" Lorelai said tiredly.
"No, we have to check in with the office at that time so the janitor doesn't have a cow when he comes by and sees people still working in a classroom." She started to slide out of Lorelai's grasp, despite her annoyance with the policy. "He gets all huffy and 'Charleston better call an assembly about this!' because it throws off his usual working pattern, evens first and odds last in this building."
"He doesn't happen to speak French with a high-class accent, act like a snob and disdain all customers, does he?" Paris laughed lightly, knowing the immediate allusion.
"More of an odd variety of Spanish actually, definitely a loner guy. If he has a wife at home, he hasn't been satisfied since 1989 in my estimation." She looked down from the top of the desk, looking at the spread-out papers and articles of her clothing thrown haphazardly around the area, including Mr. Ernesto's nameplate. She pushed down her now wrinkled skirt from the tuck in the waistband, the stiff fabric conspiring to keep it up. "Still, no way he can walk in on us."
"I hope not either." Lorelai got up, feeling sore in her upper back from having the encounter on a smooth desktop of stiff cherry. "Owwwww, ow, ow!"
"I’m sorry," Paris said, visually wincing and feeling horrible for putting the woman in pain.
"It's all right, I've had worse sexual positioning before, much worse. Max eating me out against the brick wall of his loft comes to mind." Lorelai smoothed down her dress across her legs as Paris visually shuddered from Lorelai's comeback. They began to slowly start to dress when Lorelai handed Paris back her discarded blouse. Both of them kept their stares on each other, Lorelai continuing to stare at the blonde's breasts as she slipped the shirt on, deciding to forgo her bra so late in the day.
Paris kept her attention on Lorelai's gaping, bending down on purpose to keep those eyes trained on her goods, testing to see what it would take to stop the stare. She walked around, slowly pushing each button back into their assigned holes. She's not stopping, she thought proudly as she tucked the blouse back into her skirt which caused her hardened nipples to stay erect and visible in the blouse.
She turned towards Lorelai and slid a finger onto the tip of the woman's chin, startling her to look up. Caught, she looked up at a smiling Paris, as she blushed furiously at behaving like a love-sick teenager.
"As much as I'd like you staring at my breasts all night, you have to stop." She offered her hand after buttoning the shirt just enough to cover herself up and had Lorelai stand next to her.
"I...I can't help it, you're a beautiful girl," she stated shyly, biting at her lip in a way uncharacteristic for a mature lady. Shocked, she felt Paris's hands at her waist, as she attempted to roll the bodice of the slip dress back up her.
At least, she tried to. The flimsy spaghetti shoulder straps had both been broken in the foreplay, most likely leaving Lorelai in a very large bind if she wanted to leave the school without violating decency laws. She blushed and Paris looked down, cursing herself for being so rough.
But Lorelai quickly found a solution to the problem that would suffice at least until she could get home and mend it. "Hand me that stapler next to you," she asked, looking towards one of the few things not thrown off the desk. Paris was relieved, thankful that Lorelai's tough times taught her how to improvise at a moment's notice. Handing over the stapler, a tight unease left her chest when the woman put three staples in each strap to attach it to the dress.
"My own personal MacGyver," Paris cracked, smiling. "Sometimes I think your daughter underestimates your intelligence."
"What do you mean?" Lorelai froze, stunned by the unexpected compliment. "She's the smart one."
Paris shook her head, taking the stapler and pushing herself close to comb her fingers through the taller woman's voluminous locks to smooth out the 'sex' style she sported. "Lorelai, as far as books and uninteresting facts, we both have you beat by miles. But you know more than you ever let on, and I'm in awe that you've learned more on your own than you ever did when you were in Hillside." Her hands trailed down her arms slowly. "There are times I just stare at you, whenever I'm in the Hollow or else you're here visiting or with the parent's association. You have a realist mindset that interests me and when you're there with all those parents who think of it as a break between soccer and cocktails as you try to argue them away from some vapid legislation they put through, you're cracking wise, using your sarcasm to push what you want through. When you're at home, you know how to use a mix of sex, empathy, and care to get your way, be it at the Inn or your town's meetings." She looked up at Lorelai, watching a woman feeling her heart swelled, shocked that of all people, Paris was complimenting her. "I've been thinking over these last three months, ever since I got my rejection and had to go through the pain of seeing Rory accept Harvard, my pathway to there meeting a dead end."
She pushed closer, her cool hands now bringing her into a hug that was the polar opposite of the unexpected one of earlier in the day. "Maybe I need to stop thinking of myself as having to please everyone to get through life. Just being here today, talking to me, understanding without having this big life plan you followed, then saying that I didn't have to settle..." A tear fell from one of her eyes, a sob coming through her throat. "I never would have thought you'd...that...that you'd care for me, Lorelai. I don't know that feeling very often, but I know that you don't usually...that..." Beginning to break down, Lorelai moved her hands across Paris's back in a calming motion, hushing her, letting her feel what she wanted.
"It's OK, let it out, Par, and let it out." She crouched down, letting Paris rest her head in the crook of her shoulder. "I don't know what happened today, but I know that you need help. You get so wound up and have no outlet to take that tension out on, and it hurts me to see that my daughter is closing herself off to you, just because of Jess. I wish that I could make that clear to her, but it's all 'I'm going to Harvard, Jess got a English Lit scholarship at Boston U., we can be together now.' I'm disappointed in her, but I'm also angry that instead of being able to confide in her that Jamie treats you like he does, you had to spill it to me." A beat, and a sigh, Lorelai released Paris a bit so they could be face-to-face. "I still think that what he's doing is wrong, and he needs to shape up, fast. He's lucky to have you, and--"
Just then, Paris kissed Lorelai, again, softly, this time without the force or lust of the suddenness before they heated the flirting. Just as quickly she released, and the woman was once again in shock, Paris explaining her new action, caressing the nape of Lorelai's neck.
"He has one more chance," she growled out sternly, giving out her own ultimatum towards him.
"What are you talking about?" Lorelai was stunned, Paris releasing her hold on her and moving to collect her shoes and backpack on the other side of the room.
"You're right, I deserve to be treated better," Paris stated strongly. "Jamie gets one more chance to realize how much I want to be treated as an equal, not arm candy." She tossed Lorelai's sweater back towards her on the way to pick up the jacket. "So he has that long to prove he loves me, for life." She watched Lorelai bend down to pick up her sweater. "He has to listen to me, see things my way. You did today, and I'm grateful to have your ear, your arms..." she looked up, smiling as she slipped on each of her socks. "I'm not feeling so afraid anymore to face up to him and his Princeton friends."
Lorelai slipped on the cardigan, stunned silent by how strong the girl was, only a few minutes ago putty in her hands. Amazing, she thought, she's like the Rudy of dating, ready to take all comers once again. Inside though, she felt a pang of something she couldn't touch upon, seeing that Paris was physically distant to her again. She couldn't figure it out.
Outside, she let her confident self show though. "See, that's the spirit, just go in and let him know you mean business."
"I will." She slipped back into her shoes, lacing them back together quickly, a habit known since her first day of school way back in her Chilton Country Day preschool days. Still, her mind was going through the ramifications of what she had just done and she felt a shift in her relationship priorities. Looking over at Lorelai and thinking about how just a touch, caring or sexual, brought down all of her defenses. She was confident about Jamie, but as for Lorelai, her body and soul were unsettled. Just stop, it didn't mean anything, was her rationalization, we've both been itching for a good get-off lately, and it's done. You're going to look at her funny from now on, but you can trust her. This won't get out.
Her heart was still beating triple time though, just by staring at Lorelai from across the room. Her dress a wrinkled mess, one knee exposed, the other with the fabric drooping down from the hasty repair to tide her to Stars Hollow. The mess of her face, lipstick covering it like a dark blush. Then there was her walking, an unsteady gait that gave Paris a true sign she hit the right spot when she was intimate with the innkeeper.
Jamie wasn't on her mind...Lorelai was. The fact that she had been cheating on her boyfriend with her was overshadowed by how wonderful she felt having an experienced hand working her perfectly. The conversation wasn't bad either, certainly better than Jamie's boast he could make varsity lacrosse next season which usually followed their sessions. If she was lucky though; most of the time, it was a roll off her and right to sleep, leaving her stuck to clean up with a Kleenex before falling asleep herself.
I could get used to this, she thought, walking over to retrieve her messenger bag, pushing it over her shoulder and shoving the bra inside, hiding the evidence. But I won't. She has a crush on the diner man; I can't compete with that. She began to get ready to leave, able to accept that this could possibly be the last time they'd see each other.
Lorelai had the same thoughts in her mind, except that her thoughts on Luke had changed since Nicole. She knew there was a hidden thing between them, but with the two of them preparing for a cruise, she kept seeing them together, and was resigned to think of herself as missing a chance. She couldn't compete with the lawyer and didn't want to, no matter that she had more history with the guy. She still loved the diner, and the man behind it, but she wanted to let go.
Being with Paris was a good first step on that. And as Paris began to go on about the proper safe depositing procedures, Lorelai stopped her near the door, taking her by each arm. The blonde felt startled, thinking that she was about to be told to hush for the sake of Lorelai's reputation, but instead, she heard something different from her.
"Lorelai, I...I promise you, I won't tell anyone."
"Hey, I won't either. I just wanted to say..." she paused, taking in her first female partner since some awkward fifteen year-old experimentation. "I'm not going to forget this, this morning, or the afternoon, or the fact that we...well, you know, like we did."
Paris smiled a little, feeling relief at the promise. "I won't either; it'll certainly be a fun story to tell the grandchildren."
"Wow," Lorelai laughed, "I want to be there to see that! I'll be able to scar a child without even saying one word, awesome."
Paris rolled her eyes and huffed. "You know what I mean, Ms. Gilmore." She then shook her head and brought herself close to the woman. "I just want you to know that if you think I have disappointment and dread over this, I don't. I can't really; you've explored more than Jamie has and talked things out. Besides," she smirked, trying to hold back how she felt about it but failing as her eyes lit up, wide, revering Lorelai. "You were really good."
"Oh, I was?" Lorelai was surprised with the appraisal.
"Mmm-hmm." She released herself from Lorelai's grasp. "You've also convinced me that I'll just go with the $1,671.25 figure. If I lost $20, eh." She used a dismissing motion. "Just too lazy to care after being with you." She started to walk away and the both of them felt a heart rush, their eyes still meeting as they began to break apart. "I have plenty to think about when it comes to Jamie though, and next time we go out, he's going to listen to every word I say."
"He better, Paris. If there's someone who deserves to be happy, it's you." Lorelai smiled at her, loving to see the usually sullen girl in a good mood, one she caused. "I'll take care of the cash box if you want to get going; I know you have a couple of finals yet and I put you off-track."
"Yeah, I suppose. I'm just this far from Rory," Paris said, demonstrating their grade distance with pinched fingers. She stared at Lorelai one last time, the glow on her features not going away anytime soon. "But, I think I might put it off for a little longer. I could use a shower." Without waiting for Lorelai to say goodbye, she turned around, opened the classroom door, and saw herself out, the final words, said in that deep monotone, embedding right in Lorelai's brain stem as the door shut behind Paris, the window covered by the blind blocking one last ogle at Paris's backside.
OK, stop, it's done, get back on what you're here for, collect the money, give it to the activities coordinator, and get out of here. No need to wallow in this. She shook off the events of the day, trying to get back to business as she tried to put everything back on the desk the way it was pictured before she found DirtyLorelai coming out of hiding within Paris's arms. She took the key out from her heel and prepared to take the cashbox to the other building, all the while hoping that no one noticed the awkward hang of her damaged dress and wayward hair. Gathering her handbag into the other arm, she was about to leave the classroom, taking the memories with her.
But then, one of her heels hit a soft object, not hardwood flooring, startling her and making think she was about to fall and break the shoe. She lost her balance for a moment, but then came back quickly, holding her chest like the wind was rushing from her lungs. It felt like something not part of the floor.
She bent down to pick up whatever, thinking it was a stray Kleenex or scratch paper she had forgotten to pick up.
Her eyes widened as she took it into her hands and her face got hot. She took in a deep breath as she realized what she was holding, along with something that the always organized girl she had just been intimate would probably never forget. Lifting them up with care, she suddenly felt a mix of guilt and desire.
"Fuck. Oh God, I have to get these back to her. She's going to kill me..." She rose back up, holding the pink satin panties of the girl, dampness still present in the crotch of the article. "Come on, I can still get her in the parking lot I'm sure..." At the risk of theft charges from taking the cash box out of a school building, she prepared to run...
Except that her purse was vibrating and chirping. She was surprised by the familiar tone of an incoming text message and though she wanted to catch Paris, text messages had more priority than her own sex life. For all she knew, Rory was messaging to say that Jess was out of condoms and she lost her pill compact down the toilet. Or that the Dragonfly was burning down, and the fire leapt over town and was taking out Luke's. Or maybe Adam, Alistair, Alex, whatever the hell his name was finally getting around to making a fifth date with her.
She put the purse down on the desk, took her phone out, and flipped it open to read the missive...
Lor, I left them there, keep em. Call it an even exchange for the skirt. Enjoy - Par
With that, Lorelai's mouth dropped open as she put the phone down on the desktop and felt herself rewetten all over again. Her breath rushed, and she felt tingles all over her body, trying not to think of Paris in that skirt borrowed two years ago for the date with Tristan, pushed up those smooth thighs of hers, not impeding her from rubbing against her.
She stopped herself, sitting down on the desk, trying to force those images out of her head, continuing to hold the briefs in her hand. "I shouldn't be thinking like this, I shouldn't. This is Paris, the girl who is trying to beat my daughter for valedictorian. This is wrong, this is wrong, this is so very wrong..."
Her other hand on her thigh, and the remembrance of the buxom swell of the heiress's bust however, kept her dirty side in full control of things. She was satisfied for the first time in a year and a half, fully wanting, her pride swelled that she was still the sixteen year old she always was, able to bring a soon-to-be college freshman to her knees. Not literally, but...
At that moment, she thought of the exact image, Paris worshipping her with that 180 WPM implement of hers.
Her eyes rolled back, body tightening up on her. Putting the phone in her purse, she looked down at the underwear, her voice hushed with desire for her building thoughts.
"That's it. You, me, and the Magic Wand, the moment we get home. Gah, that girl is going to be the death of me!" She shoved the lingerie into her purse, checked the classroom one more time to make sure there was no proof that there was a sexual encounter, and turned off the lights before clicking the lock and shutting the door behind her.
"Room 236 isn't going to be the same to us again," she said to herself, turning on her heel and walking with a bit of a stumble, though still poised and strong, down the hallway, towards the financial office, as the thoughts of the day that just passed between her and Paris went through her with every step.
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