Work Text:
The bar was dingy.
Jaina had never had a reason to use that word before, but… that was the one that came to mind. Dingy. The lights flickered, the darkness crawled out of every corner, and even though nothing looked actively filthy, nothing looked truly clean either.
She really stood out here, and she’d have known it even without the stares she was getting from every table.. Five and a half foot of blonde college girl in a cute powder blue skirt, white button-up and a denim jacket, clutching a heavy rucksack - she looked like a stupid rich girl on the wrong side of town.
After a fashion, she was.
After a moment’s hesitation, she stalked over to the bar, slid onto a stool. “Can I get a beer?”
The bartender, a man in his fifties with a moustache you could smuggle drugs in and a beard to match, raised an eyebrow but set a bottle down in front of her. “Not to turn away a payin’ customer, missy, but this ain’t really the sorta place you wanna be in after dark.”
“Worse than out on the street?” Jaina challenged, jerking her thumb back toward the door and trying to sound braver than she felt. “I just need a minute.”
Her hand was shaking as she reached for the bottle, and she clenched it into a fist for a moment, glaring at the offending extremity.
The bartender shrugged. “Forty cents.”
Jaina fumbled in her pocket, pulled out a few coins, slid them over the counter. “Do you know when the next Greyhound leaves?”
Understanding clicked in his eyes as he collected her money, followed by a regretful shake of his head. “You’re outta luck, missy. Price of gas what it is, they cancelled the late night service this mornin’. Won’t be another ‘til 7 tomorrow.”
Jaina felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Nodding numbly as he moved away to serve another customer.
I can’t go back. I can’t. God fucking dammit, I can’t!
Her gaze ran over her surroundings, suddenly feeling far more vulnerable. Seeing the dozen or so men around the bar. They came in all shapes and sizes, but they all looked like trouble. Bikers, thugs, perverts. Some mercifully ignoring her, but… some were looking. Speculating. Leering as she met their gaze.
The jukebox was doing its work, pounding out the energetic pulse of rock and roll tunes, oozing into her skin and down her spine. Maybe in another place, another time, it would be a good energy, energy to dance to, but right now it felt like it was going straight to her adrenaline. Coming to a place like this as a stop to get her head in order before she got the bus out of this cursed fucking city and away from him was one thing. Coming in here with no goal or sure direction… it was almost enough to make her wish she hadn’t left.
Almost.
But there was one group that were looking at her that stood out from the rest.
Four women. Leather jackets, tattoos, piercings and aggressively bleached hair. It was the sort of look that might’ve suggested hangers-on or girlfriends to some of the other types in the bar, but… that wasn’t the vibe.
Jaina felt a shiver run down her spine as she locked eyes with their leader.
She was tall, approaching six foot. Untidy shoulder-length bleach-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and the tattoo of a black tear drop on each cheek. Her features were sharp, probably too sharp to be conventionally attractive but undoubtedly beautiful in her own razor-edged way, with just a hint of weathering to suggest early thirties. The leather jacket had a patch on one shoulder of a stylised screaming face, and everything about her, from the way she sprawled comfortably in her chair to the relaxed expression on her face, oozed confidence and threat.
Whoever she was, she was dangerous. And everyone in the bar seemed to know it, because nobody else was meeting her eye. Even the other women, as relaxed as they seemed as they burst into laughter over some joke or other, treated her with obvious respect.
Jaina realised she was staring right back. The woman’s faint smirk widened into a catlike grin, evidently sensing Jaina’s sudden terror, and winked as the girl hurriedly turned away.
Holy shit. Her heart was pounding with animalistic fear and thrill. I didn’t think women like that actually existed. Who is she? No, stop. Just because you see a mountain lion and think it’s cool doesn’t mean it won’t eat you alive.
Besides… we’ve got other problems. Like getting out of here alive.
She took a swig of her beer, shivered again.
For a moment she thought about just crawling back to the apartment. It was miserable, but… at least her life wouldn’t be in danger. She could just pretend she’d gone for a walk, try again in a less spur of the moment way when there was actually a fucking bus to catch.
“Hey,” she blurted out as the bartender passed by to wash some glasses, jerking her head towards the women in question. “Who are they?”
Great job, Jaina. What happened to staying away from the mountain lions?
The man glanced in the direction she was indicating, and a dark look passed over his features. “Those are the Banshees. With their leader, Sylvie. Blackest hearts and biggest troublemakers around. Kill ya as soon as look at ya. I tell you what, there’s a lot of bad that came from losin’ so many fine young men in ‘nam, but nobody thinks about what it did to the women. Some of ‘em with nobody to keep ‘em in line or handle their grief… they turned bad.”
Jaina glanced over towards the woman with the black teardrops again. Sylvie. “They’re a gang? All women?”
“Unnatural,” the bartender pronounced. Then he hurried off to answer another cry for service.
I’ve got two choices.
Either I go back to him . Try to figure things out. Hope I can lie to him. And my family.
Or I find another way out of town. Right now. Which means hitchhiking. From the shitty side of town.
Because hitchhiking is such a safe means of travel for a college girl at the best of times.
She took another swig from the bottle, and found it empty. When had that happened?
He’d never liked the way she could drink him under the table.
Movement!
The Banshees were getting up to leave. Sauntering out of the bar.
…riding with a shady woman is surely safer than with a shady guy, right?
Jaina slid off the stool so sharply that it fell over. The crash drew every eye to her again, and she muttered some choice words before hurriedly righting it and leaving as quickly as dignity permitted.
Outside it was well and truly night, only lit by a flickering streetlight and the ambient glow of the city. Jaina was left blinking, trying to get her night vision back and see where the gang had gone.
The sudden roar of a motorbike gave her a definite hint, and she stumbled into the parking lot around the side. Sure enough, there they were. Three bikes, one of them already growling, and the sleek form of a Dodge Charger. The Banshees weren’t hanging around, it seemed - although very suddenly, with an anxiety she couldn’t place, she realised she could only see three of them.
“Pretty little thing like you ought to stay away from monsters,” a voice purred in her ear.
Oh.
That was the anxiety.
The back brain knew when the mountain lion was hunting, even if the stupid monkey was insisting on walking in its path.
Jaina jumped a foot, and slowly turned to face the darkened shape leaning against the wall of the bar.The owner of the voice leaned back, and the glow of her cigarette burned bright for a moment, lighting up the black tears.
Sylvie smirked again as she blew smoke, curling in the night air. “Well? Why you following us?”
Jaina somehow found her tongue. “I need a ride,” she blurted.
The other woman raised an eyebrow. Took another drag from the cigarette, looking at Jaina speculatively.
Jaina squirmed under that gaze. Feeling her heartrate kick up a notch as the other three Banshees loomed, surrounding her.
“What’s this?” asked the shortest one. There was an unmistakable Irish lilt to her voice, a musical air that interacted oddly with the ugly scarring and lip piercings.
“Wannabe hitchhiker,” Sylvie replied. “Where you headed, girl?”
A ripple of laughter sounded, and Jaina felt very much like a mouse surrounded by cats. But she stood her ground, bit her lip. “I… I just need to leave. Get me to the next town over and I can figure it out from there.” She squirmed under the scrutiny. “...I’ve got money for gas,” she added uncomfortably.
Idiot! Don’t tell them you’ve got money! Do you want to be found dead in a ditch?!
The Irish girl opened her mouth, but then fell silent as Sylvie straightened up, dropping the cigarette and grinding it under the heel of her heavy black cowboy boots. “Next town over, huh?”
Long fingers grasped Jaina’s chin, tilted her head up. “What’s your name, hitchhiker?”
“Jaina.” She swallowed. “Jaina Proudmoore.”
“I’ll see you girls later,” Sylvie announced. “Looks like I got a trip to make. Don’t have too much fun without me. Annie, keep Carrie on a short leash.”
“You got it, sarge,” grinned one of the women.
“Why do I need a leash?” the Irish girl complained.
Bickering started as Sylvie stalked off towards the Charger, ignoring the brewing playfight. Heart in her mouth, Jaina scampered in pursuit.
It should be illegal to have legs that long, came the uninvited thought in her head.
“Throw your bag in the back,” Sylvie drawled, opening the passenger door. Almost without thinking, Jaina scrambled in, obediently dumping her heavy pack into the back seat. It was only as she turned back to sit properly, and saw the Sylvie looming over her, ready to close the door, that it really properly sunk in what she’d just done.
Holy fucking shit. I’m going to be dead by morning. What was I thinking?!
Sylvie gave her a wink, and slammed the door shut.
It took all of Jaina’s self control not to flinch. Just… doing up her seat belt. Staring straight ahead as the woman climbed into the driver’s seat, and turned the key.
The Charger practically snarled as the engine came to life. More like an animal than a mere machine, a subtle vibration running through her whole body. Jaina found herself clutching onto her seat on instinct, as though some instinct feared being bucked by the monster she was riding. But there was no stallion or bull, of course; just the powerful car, and the woman driving it. The roar settling into a mere throaty purr as Sylvie guided them out of the parking lot, and out into the streets.
Another shiver ran down Jaina’s spine.
Maybe it wasn’t just fear that was making her tingle like that.
Maybe… maybe this could actually be a fun trip.
~~~
The little hitchhiker said nothing for a while, and Sylvie didn’t feel the need to break the silence. Just focusing on getting out of the city. Apart from anything else, with how tightly wound up the college girl was, she’d have to either explode or relax sooner or later, and there was nothing like the comfortable monotony of being a passenger to make you relax.
It was only as she finally pulled out onto the highway, and the city lights fell behind them, with only the empty road ahead, that she settled back. The pleasant thrum of the Charger like a subtle massage.
“So,” she said finally.
Jaina twitched, glanced over with forced calm. “So?” she asked.
So jumpy, Sylvie thought with amusement, pretending not to notice. She’s well named. Proud little thing. Too proud to let herself be scared.
“What are you running from?” she drawled. “Nobody hitches a ride in the middle of the night like this unless it’s serious.”
Jaina’s shoulders squared, and she looked out through the window. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not in trouble with the cops or anything if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Sylvie chuckled. “Oh please. Do I look like I give a shit about the cops? I’m almost disappointed.”
“It’s just… boy trouble.” She refused to look over.
Sylvie’s eyes narrowed. Boy trouble could mean a lot of things. She glanced over at the hitchhiker again, checking the way she held herself. No obvious bruises.
“The violent kind?” she asked, a note of frost in her tone.
Jaina looked over, startled at the edge in Sylvie’s voice. “No! I mean…” She hesitated. “Not yet. Didn’t want to stick around in case that changed.”
Sylvie relaxed a little. Most girls that have been knocked around are meeker than that, even if they did have the spine to get out. Still. Worth checking.
“What happened, then?” she probed.
Jaina squirmed. “Do we have to talk about it?”
Sylvie shrugged. Silence fell for a while.
But she’d learned a few important things. Jaina had some spine, despite her nerves. She wasn’t just going to be run over. She was leaving behind something painful but probably not traumatic.
That, combined with things she’d already figured out… yeah. She could afford to play her hand.
“We’re gonna be on the road for a while,” she drawled. “Loooong, empty, straight road. Trust me, it’s real fuckin’ boring. You want to know things about me, I want to know things about you… how about we play a game?”
Those shoulders squared again. So adorably feisty. “Who says I want to -”
“Nuh uh,” Sylvie interrupted, wagging a finger. “First rule of riding with me. No bullshit. I’ve got a nose for it, and I’ve seen enough in my life. So bitch, whine, scream or cuss at me all you want, but don’t lie. You’ve barely taken your eyes off of me since you saw me in the bar.”
Jaina went red, and said nothing for a moment. “...what kind of game?”
Sylvie grinned. Good girl. Knows when to fold a bad hand. “I call Bare It All. It’s like Truth or Dare, but… with a twist. You ask the question first, and then the other person figures out whether they want to answer it, or if they take the forfeit.”
“...why’s it called Bare It All?” Jaina asked, going even redder.
“Because if you’re playing it right,” Sylvie smirked wickedly, “By the end either all your darkest secrets are out in the open, or you’re butt naked. Or both.”
Jaina looked like a tomato at this point, and it was a minute before she said anything.
“You’re, uh… a, uh… you like…”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Yes, blondie, I’m a lesbian, a dyke, a lover of the female form, take whatever term you please. And so are you.”
Jaina made a very undignified squeak. “I am not!”
“No bullshit, remember?” Sylvie replied with a smirk. “Maybe you’re not out yet, maybe not even to yourself, but no straight girl would give me the eyefucking you were. Come on. You could’ve picked a dozen different ways to leave that shithole. There were a couple of guys there who might’ve just been creepy or settled for a handjob. You could’ve done the smart thing and got out and found a motel and waited for morning. You could’ve tried somewhere on the nicer side of town and found someone actually respectable. But you dove off the cliff into the arms of a woman who couldn’t look less straight if she tried and who you were actively warned against going near.”
She glanced over, eyes glittering. “For all you know, I could’ve done anything to you. We’re already miles out of the city, on an empty road, and you’ve got precious few options if I decided to get mean. You put yourself right here, blondie.”
She settled back into her seat, shaking her head. “Now, lucky for you… I never had any time for making a girl do something she don’t want to. I’ve done some bad shit, but that’s a line I’m not crossing. So if you want to just hide away in your seat and say nothing for the next couple of hours… well, we’ll both be bored and you can expect to be dumped on the curb after you’ve paid for gas, but you’ll make it to the next city as promised. If, however… you want to walk on the wild side… then by all means.” She snapped her fingers, pointed at the staring hitchhiker. “You can ask the first question.”
~~~
Jaina said nothing for a moment, still processing what the tall woman had said in complete shock.
I guess I was more right than I thought when I called her a mountain lion, she thought dryly. I’m being propositioned by a fucking lesbian cougar. Jesus.
But despite it all… she couldn’t deny what Sylvie was saying. She had been staring. She was curious, intensely so. And yes, she’d never really considered the idea of being with a woman like that, but… that suggestive smirk was making her shiver again.
Out of fear, yes… but maybe the kind that she was enjoying.
She wetted her lips, shifted a little. “...did you really only offer me a lift because you want to see me naked?” she ventured. “Seems like a long shot.”
Sylvie shrugged. “No more so than going on any date. They’re not always gonna work out. Not every line you cast is gonna get you a fish, but you’ll catch a damn sight more than if you don’t even go to the lake.”
That hadn’t answered the question, Jaina pondered. It just sounded like it had.
Abruptly she made her decision. Maybe it would satisfy her curiosity, maybe it would be fun… what was certain was that it would definitely take her mind off of her predicament.
“I guess… I’ll ask my first question then,” she said. “One of your girls called you ‘sarge’. Why?”
Sylvie raised an eyebrow, her smile at Jaina’s agreement fading into consternation. Then she snorted, shook her head, ran a hand through her hair. “Observant. And straight for the kill. That’s pretty easy. Me and the other Banshees were all in Vietnam.”
Jaina’s own eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
“Sure.” Sylvie shrugged. “Yeah, the guys got all the publicity and did all the big shit, but there were women over there as well. Annie and I were logistics, Carrie was in air traffic control, Velma was a nurse. Noncombat roles. But we realised pretty damn fast that nowhere was safe over there.”
Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel for a moment. “Vel managed to convince one of her patients to let us try out his rifle one day. Managed to sneak it so that we all got some practice using a gun, and when the lines collapsed in our area… I mean, shit, after what we did to the VC, can’t say I blame them for coming at every US facility they could reach, even if it was a field hospital. Evacuation went to hell, shitton of guys died, and the four of us scavenged weapons and supplies and went full spec ops. Honestly I’ve no fucking clue how we got away with it. But we survived, fucked them up pretty good, and finally made it back to friendly lines.”
Jaina’s eyes widened as she listened. “Holy shit.”
Sylvie said nothing for a moment, fingers drumming again. “Turns out that when a bunch of girls show up the real soldiers by beating the odds and doing enough damage to the VC to stall their advance, the guys end up too busy feeling emasculated to appreciate it. We got a couple of medals, told to keep our mouths shut for ‘operational security’ and then got sent home. We embarrassed them, they couldn’t take it, and when we realised we’d been hung out to dry… well. We stopped giving a single fuck about what anyone thought about us. So… no, I never had a rank like sergeant, but I might as well have in their eyes.”
Jaina stared into nothing for a while. Trying to picture the hellion sitting next to her as a neat and proper little army clerk. It really didn’t fit.
As a wild thing out in the jungles, fighting for her life and the lives of her friends… that seemed much more accurate.
“You’re a war hero?” she asked. “Even if they wouldn’t admit it?”
Sylvie gave her a dark look. “I don’t believe in heroes, blondie. Especially not in war, and especially not in that war.”
Jaina winced. “...yeah,” she muttered. “Stupid thing to say. Yours is hardly the only fucked up story I’ve heard about what happened over there. Though getting screwed by the army like that… can’t say I blame you for going rogue. Or however you want to put it.” She thought for a moment. “Is that also where you got the name? What’s a banshee, anyway?”
Sylvie grinned. “Carrie’s idea. A banshee is like this old Irish ghost story. They’re a female spirit that if you hear it scream… it means you’re about to die, or something like that. Seemed like a pretty badass name for our unit. Then… yeah, it just stuck around after when we stuck together. Nothing like fighting alongside someone to form a lasting bond, you know?”
Jaina nodded, hesitated. “Are you like… actually a criminal?”
Sylvie wagged her finger. “Hey, you got one question. My turn now.”
Oh. Right. It’s a game.
…shit. What’s she going to ask me?
~~~
“So what did happen with the boy in question?” Sylvie drawled. She hadn’t forgotten that this was how this had started. Would Jaina loosen up now that it was a game, and she’d offered up some personal information of her own?
The girl grimaced. But sure enough, as Sylvie had predicted, she sighed and spoke up. “I mean… in a way… what happened to you. ‘Nam.”
Sylvie nodded silently, glancing over. Taking in the stress that had suddenly claimed the blonde girl’s frame.
“Arthur used to be a nice guy,” she continued wearily. “We met in middle school. He was a bit full of himself, but… we hit it off. Good heart, liked to laugh, just kind of sweet, you know? Maybe not the brightest, but he meant well. But he was a real patriot, raised by his father that way, and he signed up for the military straight out of high school. Said he’d go to college when he came back. Only… he never really came back.”
Sylvie pursed her lips. It was an unpleasantly familiar story.
“I mean, his body came back,” Jaina said despairingly. “He walks and talks and sounds like Arthur. But something broke in him over there. He never talked about it, but… I know he has nightmares. The boy I was dating, who’d been one of my best friends, he just never came back. He’s… cold. Totally lacking in empathy. Violent. I just… I had to get out.”
“Were you scared of him?” Sylvie probed. “Why else the cloak and dagger?”
“Maybe a little.” Jaina leaned against the window. “Like I said, he never raised a hand to me, he wasn’t a drunk or anything… I almost wish he was, then I could understand. I could blame it on the booze and hope I could get the real him back. But he’s gone and I can’t keep trying to fix him.”
The way she put that made the taller woman frown a little. But she reached out, squeezed Jaina’s arm. “You can’t fix people. We can only fix ourselves. Others can help us, but you can’t help those who won’t do their part.”
Jaina looked over at her, blinking in surprise, her fingers lightly brushing over Sylvie’s, evidently not expecting the sympathetic touch. Warm, soft fingers, an academic’s fingers, not like her own rough ones. But the girl recovered some of her calm, sighing. “Tell that to my parents.”
Ah. I thought there was some other twist in here. “Your parents?” she probed.
Jaina shook her head with a snort. “Oh no you don’t. That’s another question. It’s my turn. Although while we’re about it, what about your family? Where are they in your story? What was your life like before you joined up?”
Sylvie felt her expression turn to ice.
Christ, does she have to keep going for the throat? Ugh. Why the fuck did I have to have a weakness for smart women? Then again, how smart is it to ask something that personal of a woman like me with clear baggage?
I don’t want to talk about them.
Guess that means time to show I play fair.
“Think I’ll pick showing some skin over answering that one,” she said, forcing her voice into a casual tone. “What am I taking off?”
Jaina’s eyes widened, and Sylvie could imagine her thoughts. Wondering if the big scary lady was actually serious.
“Uh. The jacket?” the girl suggested tentatively.
Heh. Now you play safe?
“How boring,” she smirked. “But hey, I don’t need to stop for that one.”
~~~
Jaina’s eyes just got wider and wider as she watched the woman squirm and wriggle. First one arm and then the other coming out of the leather jacket, which she then threw into the back.
Jesus. Those muscles.
Below the jacket, Sylvie’s grey tank top left her arms on full display. Oh, Arthur had been strong too, but… that was different, in some way she couldn’t quite define. The sight of her companion’s wiry strength rippling under the many scars, and the gorgeous tribal tattoo work, was doing funny things to her stomach.
…maybe I really am into women. I just… want to touch. I really shouldn’t. But I want to.
She realised she was staring - and worse, that Sylvie had spotted it. The veteran gave her a smirking wink, and her stomach flipped over.
I’m just permanently red now. Fuck me.
“You can get a feel if you want to,” Sylvie drawled. “But that means I get to touch you back, so… careful what you wish for.”
I’m going to die. She’s going to kill me stone dead without lifting a finger.
“Wh-” Jaina paused, coughed to clear her throat, desperate for a distraction. “What’s your, uh… what’s your question?”
“So this Arthur guy,” Sylvie mused. “Went off the deep end, you got out. Where was your family in all this?”
Shit!
Jaina tried not to squirm, uncomfortably aware that this woman seemed able to read her like a book. But surely… if she knew who Jaina’s family were… it would ruin this, whatever it was. A Vietnam veteran with an axe to grind? Someone freely admitting to not playing nice with the law? How could she not have her opinion soured if she found out her hitchhiker was rich? Or worse, decide that trying to get her money was more important than flirting?
Anxiously she plucked at her skirt a little. Her clothes were all so damn nice. Soft material, perfectly fitted… not to mention she’d admitted to going to college. So many clues she’d already dropped.
But she didn’t want anything to spoil this. And if that meant just… playing the game and trying to keep Sylvie interested… well, it was worth it.
Like I’m not enjoying this for its own sake too, she mused to herself with a shiver. “Fine,” she mumbled. “Am I taking the jacket off?” She leaned forward, already plucking at the denim sleeves.
“No, I don’t think you are,” Sylvie purred. “How about you open that shirt of yours, blondie?”
Jaina froze, glancing at the other woman to make sure she’d heard right. Sylvie just gave her a lopsided smirk, raised an eyebrow, as though to say ‘well?’
Oh Jesus. She’s serious.
The college girl shivered again, biting her lip. Trying to think of how to respond. That was a bit fast, wasn’t it?
“I… I don’t know…” she ventured warily.
“Really?” Sylvie replied with a chuckle that sent tingles down her spine. “You sure about that?”
“Why?” Jaina asked nervously.
“Because you’re already undoing the buttons,” Sylvie pointed out.
Jaina blinked, looked down to find that her fingers were in fact halfway through undoing her shirt. “I… shit…” she said. “I swear, I’m… not normally like this…”
Sylvie said something, but Jaina didn’t hear it, almost hypnotised as she watched her fingers get back to work, pulling the shirt free of her skirt, undoing the last button and then pulling it open. Her soft stomach, the swell up to her breasts concealed by tan lace, the cleavage fading into the hollow of her throat… all on display.
I’ve barely met this woman and I’m practically topless in her car. What the hell is wrong with me?
Nervously she glanced up towards Sylvie’s face, and another shiver ran down her at the positively ravenous look in the woman’s eyes. A look that provoked all sorts of formless, shapeless images in Jaina’s soul, all centred around one question. After all, she knew what men would want to do to her.
What would a thirty-something lesbian want to do to her?
She didn’t know. But there was heat pooling in her stomach that she couldn’t fail to notice any more, a mounting tension that wordlessly but eloquently answered why she was doing this: she really wanted to find out.
~~~
It might be a road that had no cars and not the slightest curve, but Sylvie did in fact have to return her gaze to the task at hand. As appetising as sight as her hitchhiker was, safety first.
Girl probably won’t have the first clue in bed, she reflected. But god damn, I’m barely having to do a thing and she’s already revved up. This is going even better than I thought. Wonder why she doesn’t want to talk about family? Maybe that just feels too personal. God knows mine is.
The silence stretched out for a time, and Sylvie glanced over again, opening her mouth to prompt Jaina and remind her that it was her question, when she felt a ghostly touch on her arm.
Soft fingers running over the muscle, with plenty of appreciation and awe… but also something almost teasing about it. Their eyes met, and Jaina gave her a shy smirk, and a wink.
A silent message. ‘I want you to touch me’.
Holy fuck.
It felt like her everything clenched with desire at how hot that expression was, and Sylvie found herself going red. No fair! It’s supposed to be me turning you on! she thought to herself jokingly.
“What you got for me, girl?” she hummed softly.
“I don’t know,” Jaina confessed. “I’m, uh… having trouble thinking straight.”
“Probably because of how gay you’re being,” Sylvie quipped. Then, unable to resist, she leaned over, running her fingers over the girl’s stomach.
She knew that her hands were rough. She’d grown up outdoors, and her lifestyle didn’t exactly lend itself to tenderness, but… Jaina’s skin was positively silky. A sheltered little city girl, never faced a real job, pampering herself… god, she wanted to just bury her face in there. And maybe bite.
And the girl didn’t seem to be complaining at the contrast. Her breathing hitched as Sylvie stroked over the bare skin, squirming a little. “You’re not helping,” she murmured.
Sylvie smirked, pulled her arm back. “Guess not,” she agreed.
She could almost feel the pout being thrown her way. Too horny to be nervous now, blondie? Not going to make it that easy on you. Anticipation makes all things sweeter.
“Fine,” Jaina grumbled. “Have you always been a… a lesbian?”
It was a good question, and Sylvie settled in her seat a little, briefly distracted from the situation. “Pretty much,” she said after a moment. “Not really the most acceptable thing to be, of course, so I didn’t advertise it. But I always knew that boys didn’t do it for me that way. I tried, because… what else are you going to do… but one of my fondest memories is of pulling one of my best friends into a barn, after dark, and just… finding out how things worked.” She smiled wistfully. “She wasn’t as into it as me, but… it was still a wonderful night, even if we just stuck to being friends after. Our filthy little secret.”
“...I wondered if you were a farm girl,” Jaina mused. “You’ve got the build for it.”
“Something like that,” Sylvie replied. “Anyway, I only really… came out, I guess, after ‘Nam. One more of society’s rules I had no more time for. Turns out even if we don’t seem common, there’s a lot of us hiding away. Hell, all of us Banshees are into women to some extent. Maybe that’s what drew us to each other in the first place. Sooner or later, we gay folk find each other.” She glanced over, giving Jaina a wolfish smirk. “Sometimes even when they themselves don’t realise it.”
“Apparently,” Jaina said with a shiver, biting her lip. “Do you often pick up random women like this and take them places?”
“No,” Sylvie smirked. “But I don’t get a lot of people wanting to hitchhike. Not everyone’s as bold as you, blondie.”
Jaina tilted her head. “I don’t know that I’m bold…” she ventured.
“Most people would’ve shit themselves at being surrounded by me and my girls,” Sylvie pointed out. “You just stuck your lip out and asked for a ride. You seem pretty bold to me.”
“...I guess.” Jaina squirmed a little in her seat, looking pleased despite herself.
Worried about me thinking you’re soft? You’re adorable, blondie.
“My turn.”
The college girl visibly braced herself, and Sylvie suppressed a chuckle. God she’s cute. “Has a guy ever made you orgasm?”
Jaina squealed incoherently for a moment. “Jesus, Sylvie!” she managed as she found her words again. “That’s kind of a personal question, isn’t it?”
Sylvie just gave her a predatory grin. “Says the girl showing her bra off and in desperate need of new panties just because I touched her tummy.”
“You…!” Jaina made another incoherent noise of embarrassment. “My underwear is none of your business!”
“Not yet it isn’t,” Sylvie hummed. “So you going to answer or not?”
Jaina shot her an angry look. It reminded Sylvie of seeing a chipmunk pitching a fit at a passing dog. “Oh, I see how it is! If I don’t answer, you’ll make me take off my panties?”
“It crossed my mind,” the older woman replied smugly. For all her indignation she’s still into this. She’s got it bad. “Anyway,” she continued, “You just have to ask me something super personal and you get your revenge.”
“Oh, is that all?” Jaina replied sarcastically. “The totally badass road gang lesbian who’s getting off on making me all flustered and seems totally shameless? How, exactly, am I supposed to ask you something that you won’t answer?”
“That’s your job to figure out,” Sylvie laughed. “Well?”
“...if I take something off anyway as well as answer, can I keep my underwear?” the college girl ventured.
That got Sylvie to glance over, raising an eyebrow, before a wicked smirk flitted over her features. “Deal. Bra off, cutey.”
~~~
Jaina shivered as the purred command came out. Yeah, I saw that coming. Fuck.
“You’re such a pervert,” she grumbled. “I thought this would be a slow burn game and it’d just be fun questions. Now I’m about to be showing my tits off and talking about my sex life.”
Her indignation didn’t even sound convincingly serious to her own ears, and Sylvie’s throaty chuckle spoke volumes about her opinion of it.
Yeah, that didn’t even deserve a real response. God, this had better be leading somewhere, or I’m going to go insane.
…holy shit, am I really hoping for some action from a woman I only just met? What has she done to me?!
She leaned forward in her seat, contorting to reach under her shirt and jacket. A moment later, her bra lost tension, and she settled back, glancing over towards Sylvie. Even given her state of permanent blush, it managed to get even worse as she saw that hungry look directed towards her again, as she nervously tugged the cups away and up. Then, for good measure, she tugged her shirt further open to make sure her driver was getting a full look.
She wasn’t lacking, two generous handfuls, still perky with youth. Pink nipples, so tight and hard from arousal that they almost hurt.
Sylvie made a small noise in her throat. Jaina bit her lip a little, and then slowly drew a finger up and over the soft curve, ending with a flick of one of those little nubs that made her shiver.
Her companion made another small groaning noise, and Jaina definitely knew what it was this time. For all that she was playing it cool, the older woman wanted her. Wanted her badly.
Wheeee. Someone that cool and dangerous… thinks I’m so sexy that she can’t handle it. Fuck.
I wonder… what happens if I try to make it worse?
“So, uh…” she breathed. “I think you had a question for me?”
Sylvie snapped her eyes back to the road. “Yes,” she said, clearing her throat.
Jaina giggled a little, and tried to stifle it with a cough of her own. “Well… no,” she admitted. “I’ve had sex a few times, but… nobody has ever made me cum.” She let it hang for a moment. “Yet, anyway.” It could’ve been an offhand thought, but her tone made it a challenge. A huskiness in there, a hint of expectation. Who the fuck was she kidding? She was horny beyond belief. And maybe this was a reaction, a relief of escape, getting off on the thrill of the danger here - what if they were pulled over, what if someone saw them? - or a thousand other things, but she just could not care less.
And to really drive home what she was after… she brushed a hand over Sylvie’s arm again. A gentle tease, a reminder of the ‘deal’ about touching. But she wasn’t expecting the tension, the heat in the muscle there. Somehow, she found herself unavoidably thinking of just how strong the other woman must be. Not a bodybuilder, sure, but… more than enough to throw her around a little…
Sylvie’s breath caught, and without a word she took a hand off the wheel and reached over. Those beautifully rough, powerful fingers brushed over the swell of her breasts, before closing and cupping over the soft flesh. It was Jaina’s turn to make a faint noise, a whimper of need as her rock-hard nipple pressed against the woman’s palm, and her own hand snapped up to grasp at Sylvie’s, holding it there almost lovingly. Then the grip turned into a massage, the fingers squeezing and kneading slowly, before the hand pulled away and pinched at her nipple, squeezing and twisting a little in a way that made her gasp. “F-fuck…”
Then her body seemed to freeze as the offending hand moved, settling on her knee. Bunching up her skirt, handful by methodical handful, before enough had been pulled back that Sylvie’s true target was easily within reach. Crawling under the blue fabric, along her thighs in a way that tickled and made her spread her legs almost involuntarily, until…
“Ah!” she squeaked. Almost bucking in a way that would’ve been embarrassingly needy if she hadn’t been too horny to care. It was such a gentle touch, nothing special. Just two fingers drawing over the utterly soaked fabric protecting what remained of her modesty, lightly caressing over her labia. More tease than anything else. But fuck , her head was spinning. “S-sylvie… p-please…”
“I think we’re done with the game,” Sylvie purred. “So how about you take those off?”
Yes. God please. Fuck, I was trying to turn her on instead… this backfired a bit…
There was no hesitation as she squirmed and wriggled, until the utterly ruined fabric was kicked off her legs and thrown into the back. With no further instruction needed, she pulled her skirt back for easy access. “Better?” she asked, her heart thudding and her breathing quick. I’m in your hands, pretty cougar. Make it good?
Sylvie’s hand settled on her thigh again, and once again that maddeningly teasing brush over her labia made her whimper - only all the worse, with nothing to obstruct the sensation aside from the neatly trimmed hair. “Good girl,” Sylvie purred. “Lil turned on, aren’t you? You’re practically soaked down there.”
Jaina opened her mouth to try to reply, but all that came out was a soft, stifled moan as she felt one of Sylvie’s fingers shift, sliding between her lips and dragging upwards to stroke over her clit, sending a pulse of pleasure straight up her spine, her eyes rolling back a little.
She knew all about that, of course, but… feeling someone else’s fingers there instead of her own was still a completely different world. Needless to say, Arthur had never cared to learn about such things. “Ffffffuuuuuck…” she managed. “That feels so gooooood…”
But the moaning turned into whining as Sylvie’s hand moved away. “Noooo…”
“You sure you’re not normally this kind of girl?” Sylvie teased, her tone dark and full of hunger. She lifted her fingers up to her lips, suckled them clean. “Mmm… you taste good.”
Jaina felt everything clench at this little show, and another whine escaped her throat. “What do you want?” she begged, all shame thrown away like her underwear, her chest fluttering with her gentle, needy panting. “Please…”
“I’m still driving,” Sylvie pointed out lazily. “Show me how much you want it. Touch yourself, my pretty hitchhiker, and don’t be shy about it. And maybe I’ll find a good place to pull over.” She gave a low chuckle. “I was expecting we’d maybe make it to a motel, but if you want me to fuck you right here out on the road… I’m really not going to complain.”
The college girl swallowed. Jesus fucking christ. What’s she doing to me? I mean… aside from turning me into a slutty mess… Slowly she rolled up her skirt further, propping her feet up on the dashboard. A hand dipping between her legs, slowly feeling over her clit with a whimper. I’m so sensitive already…
Sylvie pressed her foot down, and the car accelerated - and then suddenly it was like it hit a magic speed, and the vibrations of the engine pulsed out through the whole car - and most relevantly right into Jaina, who was entirely helpless to resist. “Ghhhhhhhaaaa… fffffffffuuuuuuuck…” she moaned, eyes rolling back a little as all control fell away, her fingers beginning to aggressively rub over the little nub, her entire pelvis buzzing pleasantly.
Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK I never thought about cars before but oh my GOD this is my favourite car EVER!
~~~
Sylvie had to resist the urge to laugh at the crazed look that had come over her cute little plaything’s features. It was a feature she’d discovered by accident a while ago, just the right mixture of gears and power and speed to produce a very fun little side-effect, but… as worked up as Jaina was, there was nothing ‘little’ about what was happening.
“Good girl,” she purred, glancing over again. Taking in the beautiful sight for longer than was probably safe, but… who could possibly resist? Cute, pampered little rich girl, all so proper and neat when she got in the car… now flushed, panting and whining, functionally naked and showing off her gorgeous rack and pretty little pussy, and working herself over like a whore. All to please her.
No clue whether god, the devil or someone else gave me this, and no clue what I did to deserve it, but thank you.
It was the sweetest torture. Holding that speed, only able to steal glances and listen to the little symphony is needy gasps and moans, feeling her own arousal rise until it burned, the vibrations pleasuring her as well, her head spinning. And most of all, the anticipation of what would happen when she stopped. Gritting her teeth even as her hips rolled on instinct, seeking any kind of friction or pressure… but most of all, waiting until Jaina’s sounds became desperate. Until her writhing became frenzied.
The brakes screeched as she slammed on them, pulling the Charger off the road and prompting a yelp from her passenger. Before Jaina could recover, Sylvie turned, undoing her belt and grasping the girl by the hair, tangling her fingers in the long curls before pulling her in, devouring her squeak in a ravenous kiss. Her tongue probing as their lips mashed together - and as Jaina quivered and responded, kissing back just as needily, eagerly exploring her passenger’s mouth, tasting her - no, devouring her. The older woman’s hand diving down, pushing Jaina’s aside, and aggressively pressing her thumb against the girl’s clit.
Jaina bucked, a strangled noise in her throat even as she stayed locked against Sylvie’s mouth. Then, as first one and then two fingers slipped down and pressed inside her without the slightest resistance, curling and caressing against her inner walls, the girl went rigid, spine arching with unmistakable tension.
Sylvie pulled back a little, gazing into her eyes as she came. A smirk on her lips as the girl fell apart, convulsing against her fingers as she worked the blonde through the orgasm, making sure she got the full ride. Only when Jaina fell back, a guttural groan of release escaping from her lips, did she relent and withdraw her hand.
“You made a mess,” Sylvie accused with playful scolding. “Look, you got my fingers dirty.”
“...sorry,” Jaina mumbled. A lazy grin spreading over her features as she looked up at the other woman. “How can I make it up to you?”
The girl gently grasped Sylvie’s hand, drew it to her mouth, and firmly suckled the offending juices off of her fingers, before looking back up with the impish glee of happy juices flooding her brain. “I’m sure there’s something you’d like…”
Sylvie froze for a moment. I am… really glad that I stopped the car or I’d have crashed right there. “Out of the car,” she said tensely.
She didn’t stop to see if the girl was obeying, just opening her own door and climbing out. Vaguely aware that the engine was still running, but really not giving a damn. As soon as she was stood up, she was unbuttoning her jeans - or at least trying to, so much blood rushing southward that her fingers were on strike.
Soft, delicate digits met her own, gently pried them away. Jaina gave her another impish grin, leaned in to kiss her again. “Allow me,” she breathed, before crouching down, and getting to work.
~~~
Jaina was still buzzing. Easily the best orgasm she’d had in months, and those kisses… she really liked kissing Sylvie.
The fact that she was pretty sure Arthur would be furious at what she was doing was just icing on the cake. Cheating on him? With a woman?
Fuck him. She’d left him, this wasn’t cheating. And this was already better than all the sex she’d had with him put together.
Sylvie gazed down at her, eyes heavy with lust, and Jaina felt a shiver run down her spine as she finished with the buttons, tugging the material and the shorts below down the woman’s thighs.
That left her facing a tangle of dark blonde hair - apparently that bleach hadn’t needed to do much - and the slick, positively dripping treasure beneath. A small surge of anxiety ran through her, and she glanced up again. “I, uh… I’ve never…”
“You’ll figure it out,” Sylvie said, her voice almost a growl. “Just take it slow. It’ll be ffffffffff-!”
Jaina giggled to herself as the woman dissolved into suppressed hissing, as her fingers gently probed and found a very familiar nub. Can’t be that different from mine… she certainly seems to like it! But I don’t just want to use my fingers, not after how good she made me feel… I wonder if this would work?
Sylvie backed up a little, leaning back against the gently rumbling Charger, and Jaina adjusted her skirt for a moment before getting on her knees, the hard dirt not the most comfortable thing, but… good enough for this. Then she took a deep breath, braced herself, and nuzzled in. Her fingers gently prying the engorged labia apart, and her tongue going exploring.
The taste wasn’t quite what she was expecting, but… as she licked over Sylvie’s clit, and felt the woman stiffen and whimper, any second thoughts went out the window. Yup. That definitely works.
“Don’t you dare stop,” Sylvie hissed. Then another groan ripped from the woman’s throat as Jaina licked again, warming to her task. Burying her face in the gang leader’s pussy, breathing be damned, wrapping her lips around her target and getting to work with her tongue.
Strong fingers wrapped around her head, holding her close, and Jaina gave a pleased hum. So much tension, so much need… feeling the woman vibrate under her touch - and not just from the gently purring engine behind her. Her eyes flicked upward, taking in the majestic sight of her lover; tall, menacing, an object of fear not so long ago, now shivering with desire and pleasure, making the most beautiful gasps and moans.
It was possibly the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
How did I not figure out how gay I am before?
Her tongue was starting to ache, but she didn’t stop. Grasping onto Sylvie’s thighs, nuzzling in further, devouring the woman. Sucking in air in brief pauses as best she could, before returning to her duties with new enthusiasm.
God, she tastes so good… I could do this forever. So much better than going down on a guy…
“Nnnnn… good girrrrrrrrl…” Sylvie panted. “Quick learner… I’m close, fuck… more, give me all you got!”
And Jaina obeyed. Pushing through the fatigue, her tongue rolling and flicking as best she could, suckling lightly at the little nub, feeling as the grip on her head tightened. Getting a little light-headed from lack of air, but not caring. This was more important. She had to make this angel of the road cum. She had to…!
Sylvie’s fingers practically dug into her skull as the woman let out a harsh scream, grinding forcefully against the girl’s tongue. Despite the pain, Jaina’s gaze as she watched her cum was never anything less than blissful.
So beautiful… please god, please let this not be a one-off… I want to see this again…
Finally Sylvie released her grip, pushing Jaina away with a shiver. Twitching slightly as the aftershocks of climax ran through her, a lazy grin spreading over her features. “You know, I thought you were cute before…” she drawled. “But tits out, on your knees, with that ‘just ate someone out’ hair and covered in my juices… that’s a real good look on you, Proudmoore.”
Jaina blushed crimson, giggled as she wiped at her face. “...thank you? Got to admit… that’s the best sex I’ve had in… I don’t know how long.”
“Rich people don’t know how to have sex, I’m pretty sure,” Sylvie quipped, fumbling in her jacket for a cigarette. She lit it, took a draw, smirking as Jaina squirmed. “What, you think I couldn’t figure it out? You’re in college just for a start, blondie. And I was in the army logistics, remember? I saw ‘Proudmoore’ stamped on a whole bunch of crates being shipped in. Not a common name.”
Jaina cleared her throat, looked away, awkwardly pulling her shirt closed. “I guess… I just… wasn’t sure how you’d react to having the daughter of a shipping magnate in your car.”
“I don’t really give a shit,” Sylvie said, taking another drag. “Didn’t put me off before. You wanna get out of here? Maybe find that motel?” That wicked, predatory smile flitted over her features. “Go for round two before we part ways?”
Jaina bit her lip, looked up at Sylvie shyly. “...maybe I don’t have to leave? I mean… I don’t have anywhere to be…”
Sylvie raised an eyebrow. “...this ain’t exactly a life for a college girl. You could get in a lot of trouble.” She reached down, offering her lover a hand up.
“Fuck it,” Jaina replied, grasping the hand and rising to her feet. Grinning a little, leaning against the taller woman. “I could go for trouble.”
***
The next evening.
“Fucking finally.”
Annie and Velma looked up from their cards at Carrie’s exasperated declaration. Sure enough, the familiar silhouette of the Charger was approaching the old farmstead that was currently home to the gang.
“Took her long enough,” the Irish woman grumbled. “Was starting to think the pigs got her. Fucking Christ, Sylvie…”
“You worry too much,” Annie replied lazily. “She probably just got carried away fucking that morsel senseless. Kinda jealous, not going to lie.”
“She does deserve a break after that business last week with those Scarlet assholes,” Velma agreed. “Although this is pretty late. Maybe she ended up taking the girl further than planned?”
“I’m not just worried,” Carrie growled. “I’m bored as sin. Swanning off like that for some college slut and what, we’re supposed to just wait for her to get back?”
“She’s the boss,” Velma replied, taking a swig from her beer. “That’s how it works sometimes. You prefer her stomping around in one of her moods? Anyway, we’re still on schedule for the job. Maybe after that, you can go find a plaything.”
Carrie’s complaints fell silent as the Charger rolled to a halt. A moment later, Sylvie got out, stretching out. “Miss me?” she called.
“What fuckin’ took you?” Carrie demanded.
Sylvie just smirked. A moment later, another figure got out of the car.
Bleached hair cut short. The cutesy clothes ditched in favour of a leather jacket, shorts and a halter top, the former emblazoned with a screaming face patch.
“I got a pet,” Sylvie said with a wink, pulling Jaina into her arms. The shorter girl squeaked, grinned shyly at the three stunned Banshees. “Had to make sure she was properly taken care of.”
Annie finally broke the silence. “...guess the sex was really good, huh?” she cackled. “You better know what you’re doing, Sylv, if she doesn’t measure up we’ll eat her alive.”
“Try me,” Jaina shot back, sticking her tongue out. Then she squeaked as Sylvie’s hand grabbed and squeezed her butt.
“Oh, she measures up,” Sylvie grinned. “In all sorts of fun ways. You’ll see.”
Jaina blushed at the hungry, speculative looks she received. But she took a deep breath, tugged Sylvie into a kiss, and then returned her attention to her new gang-sisters. “Teach me. My old life sucked. Show me what to do.”
“You sure about this?” Velma asked, raising an eyebrow. “The sarge gave you the rundown? You really want to throw away your old life and join up with a biker gang? Why?”
Jaina’s smile turned mischievous, and she glanced up at her new girlfriend. “I mean… they do say that if you hear a banshee scream, you’re going to die. Guess I’m just another ghost of the highway now.”