Sometimes a bottom gets a little out of hand. Sometimes she thinks she can turn the tables on her top. Naughty Anna is about to discover her place when she tries that on Tamsan* in this excerpt from my latest WIP.

Tamsan stood next to the bed fully dressed, shirt, jeans, buckle, boots and all. “Get dressed, we’ll walk over to your place.”

“Ugh, dressed,” Anna said. “Clothes are so restrictive and pointless.” She reached for Tamsan’s hand and tugged the woman down atop her naked frame. “Why don’t you take those clothes off and see how free you feel?”

Tamsan’s lips covered hers in a hot kiss. “Tempting,” she murmured against Anna’s mouth. “But we really should get to work.”

“I don’t want to work.” Anna let her tongue trail playfully over Tamsan’s lips. “I want to have you. I want to take you.” She wrapped her arms around her lover and rolled, turning them both so she was atop the taller woman, looking down with naked triumph as her bare pussy ground against the front seam of Tamsan’s jeans.

“Is that right?” Tamsan reached up and settled her hands on Anna’s hips. “You want to take me?” One neatly shaped brow rose. “You think you’re ready for that?”

“I was born ready.” Anna grasped the lapels of Tamsan’s shirt and briskly spread them akimbo. Buttons popped onto the floor with little pinging sounds and rolled into crevices where they would never be found. The rash action exposed Tamsan’s breasts, softly curving swells topped by neat brown nipples. Anna leaned down hungrily, hardly noticing how Tamsan’s hand slid over the curve of her hip until suddenly the fingers were not nonchalantly above her bottom, but between her legs, pressing up into the damp interior of her body.

Before Anna could taste the ripe nipple, Tamsan’s other hand snaked up into her hair and tugged, pulling her head back so that Anna was arched above Tamsan’s body, her pussy impaled on long, dextrous fingers. The tables had been turned. The aggressor had become a gasping, begging supplicant grinding her hips back and forth against her lover’s hand.

“You don’t look ready to take me,” Tamsan murmured from below. “You look like you’re desperate to be taken.” She let the pad of her thumb ghost lightly across the hood of Anna’s clit with just enough pressure to make Anna whimper softly.

(*Tamsan is apparently not a common name in the USA. My spell check keeps trying to revert it to ‘tampon’.)