bassista | this is an excuse for lesbian sex

Sophia holds her hand as she checks in with her girls--and, honestly, Victoria can't help but feel a pang of envy. Their band is a well-oiled machine, but Tommaso is too busy writing lyrics, Dante is more of a party animal than either she or Nicky, and Nicky is falling in love like he's prone to do every couple of years.

And they're guys. Which is fine, but platonic girlfriends is something rare for Victoria. If this doesn't work, maybe she can get over how cute Sophia is with those beautiful hips fit snug in denim and just meet her for a coffee occasionally. Victoria herself is dressed in men's suit slacks and an insanely low cut tank, a little masculine offset by a full face of makeup and her long hair.

(She does grab a case of beer from the communal pile, to which the boys from Iceland give her two thumbs up and say something she thinks might have been English but who knows with those two.)

"If it's too cold, I'll warm you up." She rubs the inside of her wrist with her thumb, immediately climbing the stairs.

--

It's a journey, and Vic's face lights up when she finds the key card actually works, shouting a very loud 'no fucking way!' and grinning widely. The door is opened revealing the cool, crisp night air, and Victoria does what any red-blooded, excited person would do. She yells at the top of her lungs.

It's not like she's a singer, after all.

"This is so fucking perfect--look, look, look at the stars, holy shit."

They make it to the roof, after about a dozen flights of stairs and Sophia wishing she would've worn boots with a lower heel. But it's worth it. Mainly because Victoria's energy is absolutely infectious from the moment she swipes the key card and the light turns green.

The shout bounces off the walls of the hallway, and Sophia shushes her in that giddy excited way that says she doesn't mean it at all. Her heart is in her throat a little bit, anxious at the idea of getting caught. The execs would not like it if two of their contestants were found on the roof with a stolen key card.

It all goes away the second the cold air hits her. It's startling, almost sobering, a breeze whipping her long hair around her face. Victoria yells, sending an odd thrill right up Sophia's spine. There's something primal about it, a bit masculine in a way that suits Victoria very well. Just like those slacks and the shirt that shows most of her cleavage.

She's not meaning to stare, but Sophia does love admiring her friends in their element. And Victoria looks very in her element here, powerful and larger than life. Sophia throws her arms around Victoria's shoulders, squealing with the sheer excitement of just being here, in Switzerland, for Eurovision, among dozens of like-minded individuals.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she says, jumping on her tip toes and fully jostling Victoria with her arms still around the other girl. "I live in the heart of London, you can never see the stars there."

She's setting down the beer as it happens. Sophia laughs, and squeals, and throws her arms around Victoria in a way that makes Victoria want her even more, catching her waist and holding her there, feeling sharp, angular hips with her thumb, their bodies' close, breasts touching as they hug. Sophia's infectious.

Victoria needs this.

"Too many fucking tourists in Rome for it to be quiet anymore," she agrees, but she doesn't care about London or Rome or lights at all. She cares about the girl on her tip-toes and the warmth of her body against hers.

They're so fucking close. Victoria leans in closer, one hand that had been on on Sophia's hip moving down to the other's outer thigh, keeping her gently in place.

"You wanna forget about Tim, Sophia?"

Victoria's warm, and Sophia can already feel the breeze prickling the hairs across her skin. She doesn't let go, comfortable with the way they've pressed against each other, clinging because she's pleasantly drunk and her feet hurt a little from climbing the stairs.

They're almost the same height when she's wearing these boots. Sophia looks away from the star speckled sky to meet Victoria's gaze. It's intense, captivating, gathering all of Sophia's often wandering attention instantly. There's a weight to it that she can't quite place, but she doesn't find herself shying away from yet either.

"That's why we're up here, isn't it?"

So they can get more drunk and both forget the boys who have scorned them tonight. She smiles, leaning forward a little further so they sway on the spot, their foreheads almost touching now. She feels warm with the alcohol buzzing in her veins.

"You are too fucking pretty to be left waiting."

"And you are too fierce a bitch to pine," Victoria says almost immediately, the truth of the words weighing her tongue for a moment. Sophia's beautiful, but her touches are so innocent, it gets her blood pumping. She wants to party. She wants to yell more.

She leans in closer, voice barely above a whisper as her hand moves from that outer thigh to the inner, touching the denim with a sensual, practiced air about it, sliding her fingers along the fabric as she breathes in the other's perfume and hair products. Her voice is a little smokey from her cigarettes, words accented but clear.

"Let's do something about it."

Her lips are hovering over Sophia's anyway, looking right at the girl for her reaction as that hand starts to travel upwards, searching for some sort of signal for her to stop. Her finger tips move to the top of the thigh, close to the other's crotch when she leans in for a proper kiss.

Victoria wants that. That innocent, that first time. She doesn't mind being an asshole for it. She gets what she wants, Sophia gets satisfaction. Everybody wins.

Sophia grins brightly, easily drunk off of shared girl power. She loves this, hyping her friends up, feeling on top of the world, knowing that when they have each other's backs, they can accomplish absolutely everything.

They don't need boys to string them along. They'll make their own fun, right here on this roof top where they can feel bigger and better than everything else. She wants to put on music, some kind of bubbly pop anthem they can dance to.

Her phone's in her back pocket, but Victoria's hands are wandering before she can finish even thinking about grabbing it. Sliding over her thigh, tracing up the inseam towards the heat between her legs. Her head spins a little, but she doesn't think it's from the alcohol this time. She steadies herself with hands on Victoria's shoulders, and thinks she should stop this before she's the one stringing someone along--

But Victoria kisses her with soft, sweet lips. She's only ever known the kisses of men, lips chapped and jaws rough with five o'clock shadows. Victoria tastes like wine and cigarettes, and she doesn't know why she doesn't stop this, the kissing or that hand continuing to wander, only that it feels really good, and she's quite a bit drunk.

That has to be it. Everyone gets a little more slutty and open when they're drunk, and Sophia is no exception. When she pulls back, she feels a little dazed, staring at Victoria with wide green eyes.

"Whoa," she says, breathless and a little bit giggly. Her smile flickers, uncertainty seeping in. "I, um-- I've never done this before-- Not um, with girls."

Victoria could quote that sentence word for word, said to her by a lot of women. Some mean it--and some, like Sophia, lean in a little bit.

The problem is that now Victoria has a taste of exactly what she wants--needs--and she's always been a bit selfish. It gets her places, and she shares that trait with Nicky: if they see something they like, they take it.

Victoria wants to take Sophia, sexual identity aside. And Sophia kisses back, soft and sweet and there's more of that innocence that turns Victoria on. She reaches the hand not in between the blonde's legs currently to grab at that hat.

Fuck that hat. Fuck Tim. Sophia is hers.

"You're kissing back," Victoria points out, throwing the hat to the side and trailing her hand down to softly slides the heel of her palm onto the singer's left breast, thumb gliding over where her nipple is underneath that incredible push-up bra.

"You don't have to do a single thing," she assures, and begins to trail kisses down the blonde's neck, nuzzling her hair away. "Just let me take care of you."

She is kissing back.

It's confusing, because she's never looked at a girl and wanted to kiss her. She has lots of friends who lean in that direction, some a little more fully than others, and she's never felt anything but platonic love for them.

Right? She's not so sure anymore, because now that she has kissed a girl, she finds that it's kind of nice. Different, but not bad. Softer and sweeter. Her heart is thumping like the bass in a fast-paced pop song, her head spinning from the alcohol and Victoria's hands on her body. She's not sure she knows what she wants, but she knows what she doesn't want, and that's for Victoria to stop.

Those lips feel amazing on her neck, leaving her skin tingling in their wake. That hand is slowly kneading her breast, the pressure against her nipple sending a shiver up her spine. Her head is confused, but her body isn't, reflexively leaning into each and every touch.

"Okay," she whispers, her arms sliding around Victoria's neck again. She breathes out slowly, ending in a tiny, nervous laugh. "This isn't what I expected from my first Eurovision."

Her laugh is transformative, the way she leans in with that perfect smile, the way she wraps her arms around Victoria like they're about to slow dance and not like the bassist fully plans on fingering her as soon as possible.

"I didn't expect to really like your band, but you sound beautiful," Vic counters. They're not comparable but it's banter to get her to relax. She kisses her again, tongue pushing past lips this time, removing her hands to unbutton her blouse as she does so.

When she pulls back, it's to shrug the low-cut thing off. She's got a black lace bra on, doesn't seem to give a shit it's a little cold, and smirks.

"C'mon."

She's already laying the blouse down the wall.

"Sit."

Sophia is brimming with nerves and an unexpected sense of anticipation. Why does she suddenly feel like a virgin again? Like this is her first time in the back of her boyfriend's car on prom night. She's been touched like this before plenty of times, should it really be so different just because it's with a girl?

It is, though not in a bad way, she's finding. Victoria kisses her again, deeper than before, Sophia's heart fluttering in her chest. One hand raises, slow but not quite hesitant, sliding into Victoria's soft hair as she gets lost in the taste of wine and cigarettes. Fitting, she thinks, for the other's meld of masculine and feminine energy.

Her head is spinning when Victoria pulls away, looking down at the soft curves of her body. So many times she's seen girls bodies like this, what with sleepovers and gym class and a million billion sexually charged commercials and advertisements, but now she's looking at it differently. Victoria's soft curves are appealing, so much different than the lithe muscles and hard abs she's used to.

She wants to feel them, but her nerves get the better of her. Victoria tells her to sit and she does, feeling the chill of the concrete through the thin fabric of the blouse.

"We should've brought a blanket," she says, because she's still a bit anxious and she needs to relax -- wants to relax -- and she wants to hear Victoria speak in that pretty rolling accent.

God she's cute, chatting nervously, anxious but already eager. Victoria lets the cold air wash over her, nipples hard underneath lace from both that and how turned on she is just by looking at the blonde like this. There's an excitement about it being her first time with a girl, like Victoria is showing her something forbidden by the way she sits facing her, reaching out to push some of that gorgeous hair out of her face.

"Don't worry," she purrs, and leans forward not to touch Sophia's lips but to whisper inches from them instead. "I said I was going to warm you up."

Her hands move, gently removing the button on those cute low rise jeans, quiet and soft and taking her time. She finally shifts to catch Sophia's lips in hers again, murmuring her approval into that warm mouth while her fingers slowly undo that zip next.

She pulls back slightly, wanting to watch the other as she brings her fingers up to lick the index and middle finger. They find their way down, pushing past the other's panties and sliding carefully down to her cunt, rubbing the folds with a feather light touch. She has to go slow.

That's another part of why she loves sleeping with straight girls: they're sensitive, curious, like they're virgins. It's endlessly hot.

Don't worry, Victoria says in that lovely accent, and it's almost like a magic spell. The rocker had said she would take care of her, and Sophia believes it. She's prone to taking things at face value anyway, but it's all over Victoria's actions. How gentle she is, how slow she goes. They're safe up here, unlikely to be caught.

Those soft lips meet hers again, Sophia tipping her head a little to deepen it, wanting more of that taste on her tongue. Victoria pulls back, licking her fingers in an erotic move that sparks a heat in the pit of Sophia's stomach. She didn't realize how wet she already is until that hand is sliding into her panties. All that anticipation buried under the nerves, now free to expand and leave her wanting.

Her lower lip catches between her teeth, hands dropping down to press against the concrete on either side of her. Victoria's touch is light and teasing, but she can feel the wetness starting to seep between her folds.

"Vic," she says, her voice a whisper as she feels heat rise in her cheeks. She's not sure what it is -- an encouragement or a plea. She's watching the other girl, so cool and confident, movements easy and well practiced. Victoria knows what she's doing, and it's hot.

Just a few touches and she's melting, putty in Vic's hands, and the bassist breathes out herself at the sight--how beautifully prone the other is, vulnerable, the way her whisper is barely perceptible, the colour in her cheeks. Victoria's grin flashes wide, a smokey, encouraging laugh dancing on her lips as she leans in for another kiss.

Fuck, this is hot. As long as Sophia keeps making those noises, Victoria wants to play her like a fiddle.

Fingers move, applying a bit of pressure, index sliding inside her pussy's folds and sliding up to her clit where she rubs a small soft circle, feeling that heat and wetness, tongue darting out to wet her own lips.

"Feels good?" she says, already knowing the answer. Her fingers move down, teasing the other's hole before gliding back up, repeating the motion with her clit, leaning forward and breathing heavily in Sophia's ear.

"You're already so wet, baby."

That smokey, playful laugh is intoxicating, reminiscent of the kind of music the bassist plays. Fitting, Sophia thinks, as those lips find hers again, and they taste the way the laugh sounds. She could get used to this, these head spinning kisses and the hands on her body.

The touch is smooth and well practiced, and it's not like she hasn't been with guys who are good with their hands, but Victoria is something else entirely. She's perceptive, understanding what Sophia's body wants before she fully realizes it herself. She's never experienced anything quite like it before.

It's unbearably sexy. Her breathing is already picking up, lips parted as that finger circles gently, dipping down to tease against her entrance just as the heat is starting to spread. A soft sound pulls from her throat, the beginnings of a whine before Victoria circles back up again. Those lips are at her ear, warm breath tickling her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

"Yeah," she breathes, her exhale shaky, hips canting up reflexively. "It feels really good, Vic."

She smothers Sophia with a kiss, unbothered about lipstick smearing, uncaring about the state of them--the bassist in her bra, hands down the pants of London's current favoured princess making her whine like it's prom night.

She slides her finger down again, moving her middle against her index as she kisses, leaning slightly so her thumb can still rub at that sensitive clit.

"Brava," she murmurs, lips moving down the other's cheek when she breaks away from the initial kiss. She dips a careful index finger in, pressing slowly and paying good attention to her partner's clit. It's tight, room wise, for her hand to fit--those damn jeans--but it doesn't seem to deter her.

She does think about settling in between those legs, thinks about licking Sophia until she's begging for her to stop, overstimulated after orgasm after orgasm--Victoria breathes out, moaning softly to herself, half for show and half because her second finger slides into Sophia's cunt and the sensation is impossibly hot. The hand not inside Sophia wanders casually up the other's shirt, cupping her breast over the bra as the bassist begins to kiss down the singer's jaw.

Sophia feels like she's going to melt. Each touch from Victoria has her both relaxing and quivering at once. The better it feels, the more she forgets about the initial nerves she felt, her breath hitching and stuttering in her throat. She's soaked now, the wetness seeping into her panties where Victoria's hand doesn't cover.

That first finger starts to press inside. Sophia's lips part, warmth and pleasure beginning to radiate from her core. It's too good and also not enough, wanting and aching to feel fuller, to feel that sweet slide against the walls of her cunt. When the second finger presses alongside the first, Sophia's moan mixes with Victoria's in the night air.

Her legs widen instinctively, finding her jeans uncomfortable and confining for the current situation. She's well past the point of feeling cold, but they are outside, with little protection between her and the rough concrete.

Fuck it.

"Wait," she murmurs, but it's only so she can take the waist of her too tight jeans and push them downwards. She's prying off her boots without unzipping them, because she wants the pants off, not just pulled down.

Sophia's writhing, lost in the moment, focusing only on Victoria's touch in a way that will stay with the bassist for a while. Something happens she's not expecting, and it makes her nearly lose her mind.

Sophia is the one kicking those jeans off. Vic isn't the one tugging them down with soft reassurances--it's not only confirmation that the pop singer wants this, but she's actively enjoying it. Those pants come off and the bassist sees those long shapely legs.

She absently puts the fingers that have been inside Sophia in her mouth, sucking hard as the other takes off her second shoe. There she is, undressing just for Vic, like Vic has some sort of power over her.

"They don't know what they're missing," she promises, tonguing the taste of the other off of her tongue, salty and warm and pleasant.

Her free hand moves to Sophia's thighs, parting her legs even more, running hands over that supple, pale leg beautiful under the moonlight. Those fingers move back in, though this time when they do Vic angles a little deeper, slowly dragging her hand out but stopping before she withdraws fully only to move back in again. She works Sophia slowly, crooking her fingers, thumb back to playing with that clit. The hand on Sophia's thigh moves up to push that bra away from her shirt, groping her breasts and pinching her nipple lightly.

"You've never been with a girl, dolcezza?"

There's something absolutely erotic about the cool night air breezing over her bare legs. Legs spread wide by the bassist's capable hand, exposing her in the most intimate way. Vulnerable out on display like this, but only for Victoria's hungry eyes.

She's never been more turned on in her life. Watching the obscene way the other sucks on those fingers makes her pussy throb, teeth dragging over her lower lip in anticipation. She wants it so bad. She doesn't think she's ever wanted it this bad.

Victoria gives it to her, slips those fingers back inside, gives her something for her cunt to clench against. They're angled different, dipping in deeper, Sophia gasping as the sparks dance over nerves. The calloused pad of the rocker's thumb brushes her clit, fingers working in and out of her tight heat, and she rocks her hips up reflexively in the same slow rhythm.

Her bra is pushed aside, her nipples hard before Victoria ever touches them. She whimpers, absolutely shameless with how she sounds, shaking her head before swallowing hard, speaking breathlessly.

"N-no. I haven't."

"That's really hot," Vic says bluntly, pulling her fingers out to rub both of them on Sophia's clit, rounded circles as her lips kiss and playfully bite along her shoulder, dragging downwards. Her fingers move back in and her free, dry hand running thumb along her breast before sliding down, exploring every inch of that beautiful body.

"You're so fucking hot," she's completely genuine as she moves her head down, too, tongue licking at the other's nipple before closing around aerola with her lips, licking and sucking.

Both of her hands pay attention to Sophia now, moaning half for show and half because she's unbelievably turned on with how the night is going. Her fingers begin to work Sophia in a steady rhythm, in easy step with her other hand gliding over her cunt, the pop star properly wet.

Sophia giggles in response, the sound quickly morphing into a deep groan as those fingers circle her clit, the smile opening up into an expression of sheer pleasure. That smokey, accented voice making her heart flip as much as it makes her pussy throb around those skillful fingers.

It's the same compliment she's gotten a hundred times before from men, but it never gets old, and there's something more about it coming from Victoria, the validation, the way it sounds almost like praise.

She's always craved that. Constantly chasing approval in her music, from her family and friends, in her relationships. She spent her childhood chasing her father's coat tails and now she spends her adult life chasing everyone else's.

Victoria's hands are working her body expertly, fingers sliding in and out of her tight, wet pussy, stroking her clit like they glide over the strings of her guitar. All that heat is building into pressure between her legs, thighs starting to quiver as the other brings her steadily closer to the precipice of release.

"Vic," she murmurs again, her hand coming off the ground to tangle into the rocker's soft hair as those lips and tongue wreck havoc on her sensitive nipples. She's so close, another whine pulling from her throat.

That hand in her hair feels great--it's a soft touch but for Sophia doing it to Victoria, it might as well be a handful and followed by a spank and some praise to the bassist.

She moves her face from Sophia's beautiful chest, hands still working her beautiful cunt, applying a little more pressure and moving a little faster, panting heavily in here ear for added aural affectation.

"You gonna come for me?" She asks, pitching her voice slightly, and while it isn't a command per se there's absolutely an invitation. Victoria's just as turned on as Sophia, her fingers wet and warm inside that beautiful pussy, desperate to tease it to get some more noises out of Sophia.

She moves to the other's ear, biting playfully before moving her fingers like she's playing her bass, quick and staccato and frenetic, urging her on.

Every sound Victoria makes is absolute music to her ears, those panted breaths like the synths in her favorite backing tracks. She's only ever heard those words in deep, rough tones, always spoken between brutish grunts. Victoria's voice is like a harmony she longs to match, the pitch ringing beautifully into her ear.

She's going to come apart. She can feel it in the way her legs start to shake, toes curling against the concrete, the way her cunt clenches around those fingers every time they draw out, desperate to keep them deep inside. She's gasping, her arm fully around Victoria's shoulders now to have something to cling to.

"Yeah," she says, voice tight and breathless. "I'm so close, Vic, I--"

Victoria does something then. Those fingers start fucking into her so fast she sees stars. Sophia moans loud and high, her body jolting against the bassist's hands like it can't decide on getting closer or drawing away, the pleasure so intense, so bright--

The euphoria erupts through her like nothing she's ever felt before. Waves of pure ecstasy dragging her down and under as her body responds with pure impulse. Her legs close tightly around Victoria's hand, hips jerking and grinding down against those magnificent fingers buried deep inside her soaked cunt, riding out every last second of her sweet release.

Sophia bucks, says her name like it's always been between her lips, and Victoria laughs again out of the sheer amount of fun this is for her, to ply and touch and tease and make a pretty, straight girl like Sophia say her name as she tightens and comes.

Vic kisses her, slowing her hands down gradually, taking her time--she wants to memorize every crevice, every feel--she tastes Sophia's lipstick and the alcohol of that fruity cocktail of Anton's, she tastes the need and hunger and wonder, and Victoria fights the urge to consume every part of her being.

It would be easy to keep going on the rooftop, to touch her until that painful over-stimulation rides into something else. Instead, she pulls away and licks swollen, lipstick smeared lips.

Nicky owes her 5 euros.

She brings those fingers to her lips as the other cools down, licking them again, kissing the top before impulse takes control and she puts those fingers near Sophia's beautiful lips, pushing them in gently.

"I can't believe you let me do that," she says, breathless and pleased and turned on and wild.

Sophia's in a daze. Her head is spinning with post coitus bliss and a lot of alcohol. They never did get to the case of beer, and dimly, she wonders if it had just been a ploy to get her up here in the first place.

The thought is hard to hold onto. Her lips are swollen from Victoria's kisses, and she can feel the lipstick smeared messily around her mouth. She forgets to part her legs until the bassist is sliding her hand back, her thighs still trembling with the subsiding stimulation. Her skin is damp with sweat, the chill of the air covering her with goosebumps now that the heat is dissipating.

Everything starts to set in slowly. How quickly she was seduced, how easy it was to look at Victoria and her gorgeous body through different lenses. She's never been one of those girls whose sexuality becomes ambiguous when she's had one too many tequila shots. She knows that's not the case here.

Has she been lying to herself? Ignoring signs in favor of something more acceptable? Is she still attracted to men? Is she even attracted to women, or is there something about Victoria's beautiful blend of feminine and masculine energy that makes her special?

Her thoughts are broken by those fingers pushing past her lips, the sweet and salty taste of herself providing a brief but blissful distraction. She pulls back, licking her lips, smiling shyly.

"Me either," she admits, laughing almost nervously as her thoughts attempt to skew sideways again. "I usually like to have learnt someone's last name before I let them finger fuck me on the roof."

Blue eyes flash with surprise, and her mouth drops open with mock surprise, shoving Sophie a little.

"Shut up! No way you just swore."

That's fucking delightful. Victoria, unbothered by just being in her bra and with lipstick all over her, starts to reach into her pants pocket. Had she sworn before? Victoria can't remember. She'd been eyeing the girl, sure, but she hadn't been prominent until she was aware of her around Tim.

Vic decides she's going to take the hat as she pulls out her cigarette, lights it, and stretches as far as she can go to grab at the completely unopened six pack.

She's going to keep Sophia awake all night, she just needs to give her wrist a small break. So for now, a can of beer is opened and handed without word to Sophia. The morning will come and Vic will leave, but for now? It's nice.

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