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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Blake Marler had never been to a Pride parade before. So when she'd realised that there was one taking place just blocks away from where she'd been wrapping up her latest publishing deal, her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she'd wandered along to check it out.
She'd expected the noise and the laughter and the rainbow flags. She'd even expected the drag queens, the bondage gear and the nearly naked men. What she hadn't expected was to bump into Mayor Doris Wolfe, casually decked out in capris, a tank top and a rather peculiar hat, not a hint of a blazer in sight, cheering, clapping and cat-calling along with the best of them.
Blake had observed her for a few moments, noting how happy and relaxed she looked, before approaching to greet the other woman. Doris had seemed less than pleased to be accosted, spluttering some garbled comment about "keeping an eye on the political climate," before turning to Blake to enquire after the reason for her own presence.
Blake had laughed and glanced around, stating that she was simply here to see what all the fuss was about. With a sideways glance at a passing float, she'd added something about admiring the scenery and, following her gaze, Doris had been unable to suppress a shudder at the sight of several well-toned and oiled men, wearing nothing but the flimsiest of underpants. Blake had laughed at the tell-tale reaction and had offered to buy Doris a drink and now here they sat, several hours later, in the corner of some anonymous bar, in some anonymous city, surrounded by revellers and slowly working their way through their second bottle of wine.
Truth be told, despite her initial displeasure at seeing Blake, Doris was more than a little glad of the familiar company. Recent developments with Olivia aside, she'd never really had a friend in Springfield. And she'd certainly never let anyone at any of her gay haunts get anywhere near close enough for that. But the cloak and dagger routine was becoming just a little old. Doris was sick of anonymous towns, dark corners and silly hats. She was sick of the secrecy and the fear of being found out. But above all she was sick of the loneliness and the empty space on the other side of her bed.
So when Blake rose, slightly unsteadily, to her feet and proclaimed that she'd had far too much to drink to drive back to Springfield that night, Doris decided that the only option available was to invite her back to her hotel.
There was a moment of awkwardness as they entered the hotel room, a moment in which everything was suddenly stripped of its context, leaving just the two of them, alone together in some strange town. Just the two of them, and a glaringly obvious king size bed, challenging them from the middle of the room.
Doris cleared her throat, and for once the smooth-talking politician was lost as she grappled for a way to break the silence.
"So, how'd you enjoy the parade?"
Blake smiled. "Good," she replied, a dangerous gleam entering her eye. "I learnt a lot. How did you find the, erm, political climate?"
Doris winced as she recalled her disjointed babbling earlier in the day, and glared at the other woman.
"If you ever..." she began menacingly, her eyes narrowed, but Blake interrupted her, evidently nonplussed by the threat.
"Yeah, yeah, your head will explode, your political career will be over, and you'll make my life a living hell. I've heard it all before." She paused and grinned cheekily at the Mayor, who was staring at her openmouthed. Blake hadn't thought it possible, but Doris's jaw dropped even further as her next words took on a seductive tone. "There is one thing I'm still curious about though?"
There was a long pause as the redhead walked slowly across the room, stopping only when her body was a hairsbreadth away from the mayor's own.
"Is that right?" Doris murmured softly, recovering her power of speech just a fraction of a second before Blake leaned in for the kiss.
Blake's second surprise of the day was that sex with Doris was really rather good. In fact, she'd go so far as to say it was the best she'd ever had. She'd never really had cause to think about Doris as a lover, but she supposed that if she had been forced to speculate, she'd have guessed that Doris made love as she practised politics; unforgiving, unscrupulous and to the point. But she couldn't have been more wrong. From the first moment that Doris's lips moulded onto hers, the other woman seemed to know exactly where Blake needed her and precisely what to do about it.
She knew the absolute right moment to slip her fingers inside Blake's bra and exactly how much pressure to apply as she caressed her soft breasts. She knew how to make Blake's breath catch by planting featherlight kisses on her neck and how to make goose pimples rise on her arms as her fingertips trailed across the sensitive skin. She knew how to make Blake's body ache for more as she kissed a line down her stomach and drew her thumbs teasingly along the inside of her thighs. She knew how to make Blake gasp as she slipped two fingers inside her and how to match Blake's thrusting with a rhythm of her own. She knew how to make the smaller woman moan and cry out, how to make every muscle in her body tense, and finally, how to make her collapse, exhausted and sweating, into her arms, her eyes closed as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to ripple through her.
Doris knew how to do all these things, and what's more, she knew how to do them again and again, each time better than the last, until Blake was forced to admit that there were only so many new experiences that her body could cope with in one day.
After all, they had to save something for tomorrow...
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