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The drink did help Morgan relax a bit. She had expected Chloë to provide her with some wine but instead, the younger woman had come back with a glass of golden liquid which looked like white wine but was in fact grappa. And strong grappa at that. Feeling the alcohol warm her blood, Morgan was reminded of the desire that been stoking in her since the last time she had seen Chloë. Somehow, last night, she managed to exercise enough self-control to avoid playing with herself and coming, wanting instead to let her next orgasm remain pent-up, only to be released by Chloë.

Finishing the drink, she placed the empty glass on the side table, toed off the ballet flats she was wearing and reclined against the sofa’s armrest, pulling Chloë down on top of her. She loved how after only a week of sex and sleeping together, she was already familiar with Chloë’s weight on top of her, even finding it comforting now, as if Chloë was like a warm blanket.

“Hi there,” she said, pecking at Chloë’s lips.

“Hi there,” Chloë repeated.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Morgan said, giving Chloë another peck on the lips. “Tonight, I’m topping you.”

Chloë quirked her eyebrows.

“Get a load of you, Miss Banks! Learning the lingo.”

“I’m a teacher; teachers should always be learning.”

She was a very wet teacher, she considered now. Her new panties, which matched her new bra, were really only for show, absolutely worthless for seeing a typical woman through her typical day, and even less than useless for containing that woman’s arousal should she become extremely turned on, as Morgan was now. The tops of her thighs were slippery already. Chloë had that effect on her and Morgan wanted her to know it.

Reaching between their bodies, Morgan slipped her hand under the waistband of her panties and ran the tips of two of her fingers through her wet folds. She then brought the glistening fingers back up, holding them just in front of Chloë’s lips.

“Open,” Morgan ordered.

Chloë obeyed and Morgan slid the fingers into Chloë’s warm mouth. Immediately, Chloë sealed her lips around them and Morgan felt the young woman’s tongue begin cleaning them thoroughly, Chloë groaning the tiniest bit as she did so.

“More,” Chloë demanded.

Morgan was about to accommodate Chloë’s request when a sudden thought intruded, interrupting her carnal schemes.

“Wait, hold on!” she said.

Above hers, Chloë’s face registered confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

How to explain this?

/> “We’re pretty loud,” Morgan stated.

Chloë smiled and waggled her eyebrows.

“Yeah, I know, and I love it!” she said. “Now, give me another taste.”

“No, wait,” Morgan insisted. “What if…what if your parents hear us?”

Chloë giggled.

“Oh my god. We’re fifty yards from the house! That’s half a football field!”

“Someone told me wolves can hear sounds a kilometer away,” Morgan rejoined.

“My parents are not wolves!” Chloë insisted.

Morgan wasn’t satisfied. Besides, in her line of work, she had become convinced that some mothers could hear even better than wolves.

“Just the same, let’s try to keep it down tonight, okay?” she asked.

Chloë gave her a challenging stare, accompanied by a challenging smirk.