Enemies to Lovers

SIERRA

Remember how I said alarms have a way of going off at the most inopportune times. Yeah, that. Her stimulation of my tits was turning me on so much that I forgot I had snoozed my alarm. I guess it was good that I had, because otherwise I would have allowed her to keep going and we never would have ended up at work.

Reluctantly, I pulled my t-shirt the rest of the way down. She circumnavigated my tit one last time, then with a long-suffering sigh, skimmed her fingers down my torso and belly, and out from under my shirt. Which of course, only served to turn me on even more.

I didn't know if I was going to have time for it, but I was going to have to jill off in the shower before going to work, if I wanted to have any semblance of a brain at all that day.

BAILEE

I was going to need a shower wank. Most definitely. Watching her get turned on was so hot that it was turning me on. But our fucking responsibilities were cliterfering with our fucking opportunities, so if I wanted to get off, I'd have to do it myself.

I started touching myself while watching her get dressed. More of her skin was disappearing from my view with each item of clothing she put on, but watching her huge tits jiggle with each movement was enough to start ramping me up. That and knowing she'd be going commando because of how wet she'd gotten while wearing her panties the night before.

When she was fully dressed she turned to look at me. Her eyes widened when she saw what I was doing, and I smiled sweetly, innocently, as if I didn't have one hand on my tits and the other in my shorts.

It looked like she was about to say something, but she just shook her head and smiled. She leaned onto the bed to give me one last kiss, barely-bound tits swinging in my periphery. I took my hand off my tits and tweaked one of her nipples, making her squeal.

She admonished me, reminding me that she needed to get going if she was going to make it to work on time. I nodded and slid of the bed, one hand still in my shorts, following her to the front door where she retrieved her jacket and umbrella from the nearby coat closet.

I wanted to ask her if she had plans for that night, if we could maybe go on a date. I'd never been on one before, and I was eager to spend more time with her. But I was too shy to ask.

SIERRA

Her following me to the front door with her hand still in her boyshorts was absolute torture for me. It took every ounce of my restraint to not spin around, shove her onto the couch, and replace her hand with mine.

With one last fleeting kiss, eyes studiously avoiding her hard-at-work hand, I opened the door and stepped out into the hall. I turned around and saw she'd pressed herself to the door frame, standing sideways so her busy hand and cute little tits weren't visible. With her free hand up near her face, she waved exaggeratedly, open and closing her fingers like a child.

I rolled my eyes, but inside I was feeling all sorts of mushy feelings. I almost shoved them down, then I remembered. We'd both expressed our feelings. It was all out there in the open, no shoving required. I nonchalantly told her I love her, as if it was something I was used to doing. As if every day I told a woman I love her.

And I thought, if I were lucky, I'd actually get to do that.

BAILEE

My brain glitched when she said she loves me. Sure, she'd said it earlier, and I'd said it back. And I meant it, and felt from her that she meant it to. But it was the way she said it the second time that threw me off, like all casual like it was no big deal. And it wasn't a big deal. A woman loving another woman isn't a big deal. But it was made into a big deal when I was growing up, and I was still coming to terms with it. Still trying to wrap my head around the idea that I loved another woman and she loved me back.

She had just hit the button to call the elevator when my brain rebooted and I remembered that I should say it back. I yelled down the hall, telling her I love her too. The elevator dinged its arrival and she turned around to face me, blowing a kiss as she backed into the elevator.

I watched her blow kisses and make heart-hands as the elevator doors closed. It was super cheesy, but it made my heart flutter. When she was gone from view, I closed my apartment door, one hand still fluttering around my clit.

I rushed to the bathroom and single-handedly yanked off my shorts, turning on the shower and stepping in, as my other hand danced around my most sensitive spot.

I usually needed a vibrator to help me get off, especially when I was rushed before work, but right then, all I needed was my fingers and the thought of her. It wasn't long before I was slumping against the shower wall, tiles cooling my heated body as waves of pleasure rippled from my clit, evidence of my love for her spilling from inside me and pooling around my feet.

I turned around, pressing my hot cheek against the cold tiles. Through the shower doors, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, face flushed, smile wide. I looked directly in the mirror and whispered that I love her. I love a woman. I said it again, nonchalantly like she'd said it before. And then I shouted it, as loud as I could, not caring who might hear.

I loved a woman. And I loved that about me.

SIERRA

Driving home was uncomfortable, to say the least. Bra-less, panty-less, and jeans zipper rubbing against my mound as I squeezed desperately so the zipper wouldn't touch my swollen pussy lips or clit. I made it home without any major catastrophes and shuffled to the elevator, holding my jacket up in front of my chest, hoping I wouldn't encounter anyone before I made it to the safety of my apartment.

I was at the home stretch, just a short hallway away from my door, giddy with my success, when my douche of a neighbor opened his door and stepped out into the hall. When I first moved in, I had a huge crush on him. Until I realized how much of a bully and an asshole he was. He was constantly undermining others, stepping on them to boost his own ego. He disrespected the building super and cleaning staff. He threw loud parties on the regular, and had noisy sex with a different woman every night. He disgusted me.

But I still I froze, suddenly extra aware of how I looked. He smirked and commented on my walk of shame, asking if the sex had at least been good. He looked me up and down and asked who I had sex with, if it was a guy who'd had pity on me. Without saying it, he very strongly implied that I was the disgusting one because I was fat.

I was going to squeeze past him, ignore him, shamefully shuffle into my apartment, all traces of my own intimidating figure gone amidst my hunched form, when I decided no, I wasn't going to cower. I wasn't going to be ashamed. I'd had sex with a beautiful woman who loved me, size and all, and it was fantastic.

So I told him that. I told him that she made me come less than five minutes after touching me. I told him that I made her come so hard she passed out. And I told him I was going to go into the shower and touch myself while thinking of her, thinking of how she said she loves me, until I came again.

His eyes widened and he stepped backward, and his shock made up for all the fear and mortification and self-conscious feelings I'd had on my walk of shame. I lowered my jacket under one arm, exposing my tits that were pushing against my t-shirt, making the hem rise slightly and exposing my fat, stretch-marked belly.

I flipped double birds and shoved past him to my apartment. I kept one middle finger up as I unlocked the door, extending it to my side through the threshold and into the hallway as I walked in and started closing the door. When the door was closed but for a narrow crack, I pulled my hand in. I shut and locked the door, then slumped against it, heart racing, adrenaline pumping. I started giggling then burst out laughing, collapsing onto the floor in hysterics.

I'd done it. I'd stood up to a bully. And I'd come out to someone other than myself and the woman I'd had sex with, the woman I loved. And honestly, fuck him. He wasn't worth it. I couldn't believe I'd ever had a crush on him. But that crush was a thing of the past. There was someone else now, someone to fill my fantasies. Someone I was going to think about when touching myself in the shower in just a few short minutes.

BAILEE

Once I was done proclaiming that I had the hots for another woman, I finished my shower, trying to move quickly so as not to give myself the chance to try to get off again. There'd be plenty time for that later, after work. But it was hard, because everything I did made me think of her.

When I shampooed my hair, I thought about running my fingers through hers. When I scrubbed my torso, I thought playing with her voluptuous tits. When I washed my labia, I thought about her touching me in my most sensitive spots.

I stepped out of the shower and kept thinking about her. When I dried my tits, I thought about her caressing them. When I dried my abdomen, I thought about her big, soft belly. And when I gently wiped my mound, my pussy lips, and my clit, I thought about how she'd made me come so hard that I'd passed out.

I couldn't stop thinking about her. And I didn't want to stop. But you know, work. It was going to be hard to focus, hard not to slam her against the wall and attack her mouth if we passed by each other in the hallway, hard not to think about her the whole day. It was then that I realized, once again, that I was well and truly fucked. And I couldn't help but grin at the thought.

I got dressed, continuing to think of her as I put on another pair of the shorts that had made her gasp, and as I put on a bralette and thought about her unclasping it and pulling the straps off my shoulders. I thought about how she said she likes my new look as I tugged on pants. And I thought about her cuddling me and then kissing, sucking, and biting my neck as I buttoned up my shirt, collared to cover the ring of hickeys around my neck.

And then I thought about her as I went into the kitchen to make my lunch. And remembered that she usually eats crappy food from the company cafeteria. So I decided to make lunch for her too.

SIERRA

I speed-walked to the bathroom, stripping clothes as I went. Gone went the jeans she'd yanked off. Off came the shirt she'd worn. And that was it. That was all I'd worn home. Belatedly I remembered that I'd left my bra and panties at her apartment. Not that she'd do anything with them. My bra was ripped and not worth salvaging, and my panties were smelly from the activities of the night before.

But I guess I did have an excuse to go back to her place. Unless she was going to bring my lingerie to work, which didn't seem like a thing she'd do. But then again, I didn't truly know what she would or wouldn't do in a situation like that. It seemed that over the past couple of weeks, she'd been constantly surprising me.

I thought about how I might feel if she did actually bring my bra and panties to work. I blushed at the thought, but wasn't sure if it was out of future embarrassment or horniness. But thinking about horniness reminded me that I had a shower to take and a pussy to touch and a beautiful woman to think about while I did both.

I wasted no more time getting into the shower, turning the water steaming hot and stepping under its spray. In the distance, from across my apartment, the alarm on my phone rang again, urging me to get going. I didn't want to be late for work, but I had to take care of this before I went. I rushed through washing my face, hair, and upper half of my body. I would have liked to linger on my tits, but there was no time for that.

Still standing under the spray, I plunged my hand between my plump thighs, zeroing in on my clit. Electricity zinged across my whole body when I touched it, and it was so intense that I had to lean against the shower wall to keep my buckling knees from giving out. I thought about her, about how we'd kissed and how it felt to hold her against my chest. I thought about how she fell apart in the most beautiful way when I'd touched her. And I thought about the incredible orgasm she'd given me with just a few short minutes of touching me.

And almost as quickly, I was sliding down the tiled wall and collapsing onto the floor, shower sprinkling from above as my orgasm fanned out from below, pussy quivering and whole body quaking with pleasure. I allowed myself a minute or two of blissful indulgence but then heard my auto-snoozed alarm go off again, so I reluctantly pried myself off the floor. As I cleaned the rest of my body, still throbbing clit included, I cursed myself again for going over to her place on a Sunday evening.

BAILEE

I got to work a few minutes early, but she wasn't in her project room yet. At least as far as I could tell. Her team members were milling about mumbling good mornings and generally looking insufficiently caffeinated. I thought about asking them to tell her I'd come by, but they all knew about our contentious history. And more than once I'd heard whispers about the sexual tension between us.

Not that I'd realized it was that, at least not at first. Or maybe I did? I don't know. Let's just say that the feelings I felt for her, the reaction I had to her, wasn't a new thing. It wasn't like hated her and then my feelings did a 180. No, there had definitely been something there before.

Over the past nine months, at the most frustrating times, when she was flushed and intense and in my face, I felt something. But I always shoved it deep down where I'd been taught it belonged.

But now, now there was no shoving to be done. I'd faced the feelings I'd long feared, and embraced them. I was gay. I loved a woman. Period, end of sentence. And while I hadn't actually come out and said it, with the full-on soft butch look I'd adopted, well, it was pretty obvious that I was gay. I was done denying it and hiding it. But I didn't know if she was just yet.

I'd previously never heard anything about her not being straight, that is, up until she pressed me against a door and kissed me. But that wasn't done in full view of her project team, or anyone else at all. And if I even hinted that we had been together, that would be outing her to people I wasn't sure she was ready to be out to. So I had to keep our impassioned night to myself, at the very least until we discussed if and how she wanted to come out.

SIERRA

By some miracle, I managed to finish my shower, get dressed, and make it to work just seconds before the 10-minute grace period ended. It was so weird walking in technically late. I usually got in early, before any of my team members because I liked to make sure things were in place and there was a plan for the day. Coming in late had me feeling all discomposed. And on top of already feeling slightly unmoored, that was a recipe for disaster.

It took a couple hours, but I finally got my brain into a semi-decent place so I could think about getting some work done. Which of course, of course, all dissipated as soon as I saw her exiting the front office, arms laden with packages. She beamed at me and attempted a wave but she could only free two fingers and couldn't raise her hand, so she wiggled them at me from hip height. And it was so adorable that my heart clenched and my brain went haywire.

A few minutes later, my phone dinged with a notification. I usually silenced my phone before I went into work, but that was another thing my frazzled brain forgot. I rushed to silence it and saw that the notification was a text from her. She'd sent a waving gif and apologized for not being able to wave properly before, because of course she did that. I'd just changed the sound settings on my phone and was about to respond to her text when she sent another one.

She asked when I was taking my lunch break, and if I could meet her upstairs in "That Room," as she put it. I laughed, earning me looks from my team, but I ignored them and told her when to meet me. Memories of the last time we'd been in that empty office flooded my mind, and I promptly forced myself to think of something else so I would risk something else being flooded. My panties, I mean.

BAILLE

It's funny. I'd thought that if I were to see her in the hall, I'd have to fight the urge to shove her against the wall, but all I felt when I saw her was good, old-fashioned love. It surprised me, but it made my heart all tingly. So I was elated when she agreed to meet me for lunch.

The rest of the morning passed by interminably slow. I don't know how I got any work done, but somehow I did. And then finally it was time for our lunch breaks. I retrieved the lunch from the kitchen fridge and made my way to the elevator. I didn't want anyone to know I was going upstairs, because, well because I didn't have any good reason to do so. At least, as far as they knew. So I had to make some excuses when I was asked a couple of times by my coworkers if they should hold the elevator for me.

Waiting for an empty elevator also felt like eternity, but finally one arrived and I quickly rushed inside and jammed by finger at the 'close door' button before anyone else could try to join me. The elevator lurched and started ascending, and my heart lurched as I thought about being alone with her again. Being alone with her in That Room again.

Just like the last time, she was leaning against an unused desk. And just like the last time, she jumped up when my feet crossed the threshold of the room. And just like the last time, she pressed me against the door and cupped my face in her hands and pressed her lips to mine.

And just like the last time, fireworks exploded in my heart and in my pussy.

SIERRA

There's nothing like kissing someone after not seeing them to make you realize how much you missed them. And there's nothing like missing someone after only a couple hours to make you realize how well and truly fucked you are.

But I didn't care. I didn't care if I was well and truly fucked. Because it was over her. As long as I got to have her, nothing else mattered.

As we kissed, my hands moved to her back and behind her neck. I felt her arms wrap around my back, and then something bumped up against the back of my thighs. I reluctantly pulled away from her and gave her a quizzical look. She laughed and showed me what she'd been holding.

It was a bag that contained salad, which naturally made my eyes well with tears. Not because it's totally very much not at all a weird thing to happen when someone shows you they're holding salad. Rather because she was holding *two* salads. In Rubbermaid containers. Which could only mean that after I left, she was still thinking about me. It meant that as she made her own lunch, she thought about the shitty food I eat for lunch, and decided to make lunch for me too. *That's* what made me tear up.

BAILEE

I can't say I'd anticipated that reaction. I don't know what I'd expected. But it wasn't tears. And I didn't know what to do about them. I wasn't much for emotion in general, and I didn't know how to stop the tears. But I did know how to kiss her. So I put the salads down on the floor and wrapped my arms around her wide back and tried to kiss it better.

It worked. Thankfully. Because if I couldn't get her to stop crying, I was going to start crying, and I always believed the world would end if I started crying, and I didn't want that to happen because we still hadn't had a chance to properly use the magic wand together.

She pulled back and wiped the tears from her eyes, then hugged me tightly, pressing me to her busty chest. She whispered a thousand thank yous into my ear, and I tolerated it for thirty seconds but then I pushed at her arms because, I mean, it was only salad.

When she asked why I pulled away and I told her that it was only salad, she shook her head. She said it may tangibly only be salad, but it was the thought that went into making it that had her reacting that way. I still thought it was a bit over the top. I mean, we had exchanged 'I love you's only a few hours before. So didn't it logically follow that I'd make lunch for her?