DISCLAIMER: I do not own Guiding Light or the characters therein depicted. I do not seek to profit from this story.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This piece was requested specifically and the parameters I was given were "DOOR SEX DOOR SEX DOOR SEX." So...here's the door sex! The Natalia in this story is not a virginal saint. Instead, she has a spine, a sexuality, a passing acquaintance with profanity, and is hopefully more like the Natalia we remember. A late and completely unexpected addition to ralst's International Day of Femslash celebration, 7/18/09. Sorry, Captain! I had no idea I'd have something ready today!
DEDICATION: to Jules and Xan. Two of the best friends an aging Otalian suffering from flirtation issues could possibly have. I <3 you both. ;) Also, to fewthistle, who approved the title, beta-ed this, and who is generally a dear friend who buys me things like purses and lesbian porn. I hope the Olivia who lives in her head likes this one!
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Coming Undone
By DiNovia

I fumble with the buttons on your creamy sun dress with the tiny yellow flowers, looking around the deserted parking lot to make sure that it's still, well, deserted. It's a Saturday but that doesn't necessarily mean that park employees won't be around. I mean, aren't the weekends when parks are most in use? Shouldn't someone be on duty or whatever?

"Olivia," you say, your voice knowing, a smile playing around your kiss-swollen lips. I idly wonder if the people in the car next to us at that traffic light knew exactly what they were seeing. "Concentrate on me, please."

Oh. Right.

Oh, right! Right....

I smile wickedly. "Are you...in a bad way, Mrs. Spencer-Rivera? Am I not moving fast enough for you?"

Your dark mahogany eyes pin me with a scorching gaze and suddenly I can't breathe again. How do you do that?

"I'm in a very good way, Mrs. Spencer-Rivera...but no, you aren't moving fast enough for me." Before I can protest, you curl your hand around my neck and pull me in for a torridly thorough kiss. When you finally release me--and believe me, I had no control whatsoever there--you add, "I'm ready. I've been ready for hours. I honestly don't know what you're waiting for." You begin to nibble your way up my neck until you reach my ear, where you whisper, "Did I forget to mention I'm not wearing anything at all under this dress?"

Jesus Fucking Christ!

My knees buckle and I pitch forward, moaning as I lean heavily into you. You grab my elbows to steady me.

"Oh no you don't, Olivia." Your smile is almost condescending. "You have work--"

"Just shut up already," I plead before I plunder your mouth hard and deep. You taste like expensive lipstick and cherry Coke and I can't get enough. I press up against your body, suddenly aware that you weren't lying about having nothing on beneath the sun dress. I can feel your nipples begging for attention through the thin cotton fabric and I push my hands between us, clawing at the maddeningly tiny buttons until I've had enough of fucking with them and just yank, sending a handful of them onto the pavement with little plastic clicks. As I slide my hand inside the dress, you wrench away from my kiss, outrage in your voice.

"Olivia! What the hell--" My mouth, freed from yours, seeks other ways to keep itself busy. I close it around your right nipple, dark as cherries, as my fingers find the left one, rolling it expertly between sensitive fingertips. Your outrage becomes a gasp.

"¡Ay, si, corozón!" You throw your head back against the lightly tinted glass of the passenger side window, no longer caring about your buttons or the lack of them. I feel your hands on the sides of my head, holding me to you as I lick and suck and tease first one, then the other of your gorgeous nipples. I cup your breasts, holding them, reveling in their heaviness, how they fit in my hands. While my mouth is busy with one, my thumb slides over the other, keeping the ache inside you alive. You begin to whimper, your voice catching high in the back of your throat, little cries torn from you by my busy-as-a-bee mouth. I press my thigh hard between your legs and you buck against me, your cries becoming one long, velvety deep groan.

"Please," you beg breathlessly, rocking your hips, rolling them off the truck door in a familiar rhythm. I can feel heat like a wild inferno against my jeans-clad thigh. "Please, cariña, please...."

I pull my mouth away from the devotion I'm lavishing on your beautiful breasts and press my lips against your jawline. "Please what, baby?" I ask you. I know what you want but I need to hear you say it. I need to hear you beg me for it. I'm wet and horny and I want to fuck you until you scream my name to the trees right here in this parking lot behind my memorial park, but I won't do it until you say the words. Even though my clit aches for it and my jeans feel much too tight now, uncomfortably so. "Tell me what you want, Natalia."

"I--oh God--I--" You put your hands on my hips, slide them around to my ass, and pull me into you, trying to increase the friction between us. I nip at your earlobe, a little frisson of pain to make your need even greater.

"Tell me," I order you. My heart is pounding wildly, tumbling out of control like car going off a cliff, and I want you so badly that I can taste it, coppery and desperate on the back of my tongue. I slide my hands downward, along your sides and over your hips, curvy like speeding down a treacherous mountain road. I begin to bunch the fabric of your dress in my hands, slowly raising it so that when you finally relent and say the words I want to hear, there will be nothing between me and what I want, what I crave.

Your head thrashes on the truck's window, your features caught between a grimace of pain and beatific pleasure. "God! Please, Olivia, just...just...."

"Use your words, Natalia," I breathe, sucking lightly on the thundering pulse point in the hollow of your throat. "I need to hear you...."

You clench both hands into fists and pound them against the side of the truck. "Fuck me!" you beg, finally pushed too far. "I don't care how--sideways, upside down, in the snow, into next week--I don't care." You level fiercely furious eyes at me. "Just. Fuck. Me. Now."

So I do.

In one movement, I pull up your dress, spread your legs, and thrust three fingers into you, covering your mouth with my own, kissing you hard just as you cry out with sheer relief. I moan into your mouth as I thrust into you over and over, all my thoughts disintegrated by the feel of you, searing silken slickness and surrender. I'm deep inside your pulsing need and I can feel both of our heartbeats in my fingertips, a staccato duet of frenzied desire. You raise your bare leg, hook it around my hip, and suddenly I'm so deep inside you, I no longer know where you begin and I end.

Sweet Fucking Jesus God!

My clit aches and throbs in time with every thrust and I have to pull away from your intoxicating mouth just to breathe.

"Fuck!" I cry, bracing myself against the door of the truck with one hand, arm straining against the exertion. Our bodies crash together over and over and the truck begins to rock slightly with the movement. For one nanosecond, I worry about voyeurs. I stop when your hips start to bang hard against the door.

"Yes!" The word is hardly a word; it's more of an explosive exhalation. "¡Ay, Dios mio, yes! Yesyesyesyesyesyesssssssss...."

I can feel you begin to come and the connection we have right now is so deep, so fucking wild and intimate, that it shocks me with its power and strength. A slight shiver around my fingers becomes a flutter then a quiver. You begin to groan in time to my thrusts and that only pushes me harder into you. Faster. Deeper.

The quiver becomes a shudder and the shudder a tremor and then you're writhing beneath me, your hands fisted in the front of my tank top, screaming my name to the sky. You convulse savagely as you come, crushing my fingers inside you, but I don't feel any pain. Instead, I keep going, keep thrusting inside you and you come again and still again until you begin to push against my shoulders.

"Enough," you beg, gulping air into your tortured lungs. Your voice is breathy and hoarse from screaming and I have to stop myself from surging against you, wanting to sink inside you, wanting to take you all over again. I don't, though. I'm not sure my heart could take it. It's beating so fast, I can hardly tell one beat from another. "Enough," you repeat needlessly. Because even though I haven't yet removed my fingers, I'm not actually doing anything with them. Well...not much.

You slowly force your hands to release my tank and you press one of them to your heart, head resting against the truck's window, still trying to catch your breath. I lean my forehead against your shoulder and try to do the same.

"I just...have one...question...." I announce between breaths.

You're practically boneless with satiation and the only reason you're still standing at all is our very precarious position. My thighs strain with the effort to keep us both upright.

"Yeah?" you ask inelegantly, your eyes closed. I raise one eyebrow at you but it goes unseen. Apparently, I've rendered you semi-speechless. A warm sparkle of pride shimmers in my blood.

"'In the snow?'" I quote, failing utterly to keep the amusement from my voice. Sideways I understood. Upside down and into next week also made sense. Mostly. But in the snow?

In September?

One brown eye opens and you gaze at me balefully. "Really, Olivia? After all that..." You make a vague, inscrutable gesture with one limp hand that immediately flops back to your side when you finish. "...that's what you want to know?"

I chuckle, sliding my fingers from inside you, resting my hands on your hips. You lower your leg and now I'm no longer the only thing keeping us from sliding down the truck door onto the pavement. I think I feel my thighs breathe a sigh of relief. "It's just that it's September, Natalia," I point out. "I don't think even Springfield has ever had a freak snowstorm in September. At least, I hope not."

"Shut up, Olivia." You close your eye, go back to recuperating.

"But--"

Suddenly you're all movement, surging against me, pressing your lips to mine, seizing my mouth in another scorching kiss.

When you pull away, I'm a little dazed. What are you, a ninja? Christ!

You grin widely, your dimples making one of their world famous appearances.

"Shut up, Olivia," you say smugly. "And kiss me again."

Which, of course, I do. I mean, I'm not stupid. A little slow sometimes, but not stupid.

The kiss seems to go on forever, but finally we wind down and pull apart. I rest my forehead against yours.

"So..." I say, kissing your cheek. "I guess it's time to be heading home, yeah?"

You shake your head ever-so-slightly, causing me to look up at you, confused. "Oh no...." you say, still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

I frown. "No?" I parrot. "Why not?"

"Because," you say, reaching for the button on my jeans. "It's your turn now...."

God, I think, feeling every cell in my body catch fire at once. I love being a lesbian.

The End

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