Chapter Text
There's one problem. Newt doesn't actually know how to make love to another woman. She has had crushes on girls before, but all of her lovers have been men. It seemed like it wasn't very easy to figure out the whole clitoris-g-spot thing. She always took responsibility for her own orgasms, because all her boyfriends had ever brought to the party had been enthusiasm and cocks.
Now there was all this familiar/unfamiliar architecture to explore. It was exciting, but maybe what she was feeling was more the intellectual excitement of a problem and not sexual excitement. What if she wasn't a good enough lesbian for Hilda? She was so picky about things being just right.
Lying awake in Hilda's bed, looking at the ceiling, Newt reflected on her situation. She had helped avert the end of the world yesterday, if it was yesterday. She wasn't so sure what day it was. It was always dark in the bedrooms in the Shatterdome. They didn't have windows.
She woke up just now desperate to pee, so she got up and did, and blundered her way back.
Newt was in Hilda's bed! She'd touched her beautiful breast! She'd finally kissed that tempting white neck.
Hilda hadn't actually said she loved her back, or tried to make love to Newt at all. She was probably only humoring Newt. She had a girlfriend back in London, Vanessa. Newt thought they were practically married.
Tears stood in her stupid, aching eyes. She was an idiot. Just because Hilda was a lesbian, it didn’t mean she loved Newt like that. She could ruin everything. She usually did.
"Newton?" Hilda said, and cleared her throat.
"Didn't mean to wake you," Newt said, her voice also catching a little.
"Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
They turned toward each other and Hilda kissed her, a real, deep kiss on the mouth. She petted Newt's hair, which was sticking up crazily.
"Wein' nicht, mein Liebling." She wiped a tear from under Newt's eye with her thumb. "The world didn't end."
"Yeah," Newt said. "You were right."
"We were both right." Hilda's voice was quiet and close to her ear. She was kissing Newt's neck.
Newt could feel something turn over in her belly. Hilda leaned over her and she pressed upward, to feel her breasts against Hilda's body. "Oh," she groaned stupidly. Hilda moved her leg between Newt's, and held her breasts in both hands.
Newt put her hands down the back of Hilda's pajamas and felt her ass. She had a surprising lovely, fat ass on a skinny body, which was secretly Newt's favorite thing.
"I know you like it," Hilda murmured near her ear. "You sing a little song about it at work."
"Oh no," Newt said.
"Oh yes," Hilda said, and she was laughing even though they were pressed together in a bed. She laughed so hard she kind of collapsed onto Newt's body, and Newt hugged her. "Did you just realize that when you sing to yourself, I know everything you are thinking?"
"I wasn't singing about your butt. I was singing about kaiju guts. I like big guts and I cannot lie," Newt quoted.
"You fool no one."
"I can't believe you didn't yell at me for that."
"I did!" She was laughing hard, her body shaking Newt's.
"You have the most beautiful smile of anyone I've ever met," Newt said. "Did I already sing that at you, too?"
"No," Hilda said, still grinning. "I don't think I was smiling so much, these last few years."
"No," Newt said. Hilda leaned forward and kissed her again, still smiling. Oh, her tongue! It felt like heaven, touching tongues, finally. The wet seemed to translate itself between her legs, and she ground herself against Hilda's thigh.
"Too much clothing," Hilda said. Newt started pushing down her pajamas, and Hilda laughed some more. She went for Newt's shirt. It was a little bit of a wrestling match.
When Newt lowered her arms, the tattoos on Newt's shoulders were exposed. Hilda leaned forward and licked her right deltoid.
"You're licking the kaiju!"
"We licked them together."
"Ha, ha. Good one. I thought you didn't like my tatts," Newt said.
Hilda's expression was slightly reproachful. "Oh, is that what you thought?"
"What? You were always complaining that I wore tank tops to work in the lab."
Hilda looked through her eyelashes, and then bent her head to Newt's breasts. She brought them up and put her face between them. She kissed on the line of the cleavage, first one breast, and then the other.
"Do you have an alternative theory now," she said in a low voice.
Newt tried to speak, but all that came out was, "Uh."
"Your breasts," Hilda said seriously, "are more evidence of a benevolent Deity."
"What?" Newt said, laughing. "They're kind of—" She was going to say "big" or "embarrassing," but Hilda cut her off.
"They're perfect," she said. As if to prove her point, Hilda stopped talking and began to address her nipples. It felt like electricity. Her clit was pulsing. Her hips pushed up.
Hilda leaned forward to kiss her mouth, letting one hand trail down her body where it unerringly covered her mons with her palm. One long finger slipped into Newt easily, because she was so wet. It was embarrassing, to want so much.
She couldn't stop making noise, and she was almost writhing.
"I'm too selfish!" she gasped.
"No, darling," Hilda said. "I want to make you come."
Somehow she got her finger just where Newt put her own against her clit. The tip of the finger dipped into Newt. Hilda bent forward to kiss her neck, lying on her breasts like she had washed up on the beach. She got an earlobe in her mouth, and tugged.
Newt never came this way, lying on her back. She always had to be on top, because no one could ever figure out how to touch her. She was so ready that she couldn't hold back—she pushed up against Hilda's hand, her abdominal muscles tense, her toes pointed, and then tipped over from tension to pleasure, and came. The blood returned to her feet and her ears popped. She lay panting, unable to speak.
Hilda kissed down her body, playing with her breasts, taking her time. She stopped at Newt's belly, which was soft and squishy and embarrassing, even during food rationing, and kissed her navel.
"Mmm," she said. "Mmm."
"Wait," Newt said. Hilda looked up. "What are you—"
"Don't you want me to go down on you?" Hilda asked.
"I—I don't think I can come again," Newt said.
"I estimate that you can come, perhaps, nine times with practice," Hilda said.
"Did you calculate that?" She leaned down, smiling, to pull Hilda to her. "Is that all women, or me specifically?"
Hilda was blushing.
"Oh my God," Newt said. "You have estimated how many times you can make me come!"
Hilda shrugged.
"I love you," Newt said again. "How did you do that? Is there a formula? Is it similar to figuring out the pattern of kaiju attacks?"
"This line of inquiry is outside the scope of this discussion," Hilda said primly. She lay down beside Newt, who began to run her hands up and down Hilda's arms.
"You're so muscular," Newt said.
"From the cane," Hilda said.
"I love it," Newt said. "I thought you didn't like my tatts."
"They make your skin look shiny," Hilda said. "I always wanted to touch them." They were both stroking each other's shoulders. Newt stole a kiss, a little shyly. She stroked Hilda's hair. It was clean now, and soft.
Newt's favorite thing was making out. She liked to kiss for a long time, and get dizzy, and think about where she began and the other person ended.
There was a book she'd read, an old paperback her dad kept behind the other books in his shelf, called The Fermata. She used to read that book and touch herself, at first tentatively, and then as adolescence progressed, enthusiastically. At the end of the book, the protagonist discusses kissing his girlfriend as though they were each rubber stamps of their own names, impressing their identities on each other, through their mouths.
Newt opened her mouth to Hilda's, and felt the press, the little squeeze of suction. She was not going to be as good at this as Hilda. She ran her hands down the sides of Hilda's body and felt her shiver a little.
"Nine times," she said, nuzzling Hilda's small, perfect breasts. She let her mouth find a nipple. "I don't know whether I can make you come one time."
"If you let me go down on you," Hilda said thickly, "I will come."
"Oh. Oh my God. Okay." She would come from going down on Newt. Newt's heart was beating so hard that she thought she might be about to go into cardiac arrest. "Let you—all right. Or you could just—hump me."
Hilda looked at her intently. "Is that what you were imagining?"
"It's my—" she swallowed. "It was my fantasy."
Hilda looked down. "It rather hurts my hip, this position."
"Oh, oh no. I'm sorry. I suck. I'm sorry," Newt said.
"You are a silly girl," Hilda said. "Do you not like to do this?"
"If you really like it," Newt said. "I don't like to always take. We can do the nine-orgasm oral sex experiment, and see whether your predictions are correct. Especially the part about it, um, making you," she swallowed again, "have an orgasm, too. For science."
"But not in the laboratory," Hilda said.
"Was that your fantasy?"
"Of course. "
"When I was annoying, you imagined laying me out on the table and eating me until I couldn't talk?"
"Stop laughing," Hilda said. "I did."
"All right," Newt said. She lay back on the pillow, spreading her legs. "Do me, Dr. Gottlieb."
Hilda didn't immediately go down and get to work on her junk. She started at the top, with Newt's ear. She knew, how did she know, that Newt would go crazy for that? Nothing made Newt hotter than a tongue in her ear.
She licked her way down Newt's body, finding every sensitive place. Ears and nipples and buttocks, yes, but also the insides of her wrists and her knees: all were lit up with Hilda's licking, biting kisses.
When Hilda's face was between her legs, Newt was afraid to look. What if she was disgusting and Hilda didn't like it? What if she was too tense and had to fake an orgasm? Hilda would know if she did that, right?
A hot breath on her labia reminded her that she was wet and ready, still. The hot wet of Hilda's tongue on her clit made her gasp.
Hilda stuck her fingers in Newt's mouth, and she groaned. She slid a finger back into Newt's pussy. Another wet finger teased her ass. The licking became stronger. She couldn't stand it.
When she came, the first time, she could feel her ass pulse around Hilda's finger.
Hilda held her open to keep going, spreading her thighs, pulling on her labia with her thumbs. Newt felt it must be too much, that she was too sensitive, and then she came again, waves of pleasure, shivers, crying out.
Finally, she realized that Hilda had brought a hand down to herself, and was rocking on it.
"Oh, oh my God. Oh," Newt said. Even one-handed, even about to come herself, Hilda could make Newt come again. She licked Newt, her involuntary pleasure sounds vibrating into Newt's clit, until everything was too much again and Newt felt herself go over the edge.
It seemed to last longer, like maybe there was more than one orgasm, but Newt lost the thread and didn't care enough to observe closely. She felt disassembled. Her eyes opened and everything flashed with brightness—she was seeing stars.
"I'm seeing stars," she said quietly. Hilda flopped down next to her. She was smiling widely.
"Wait—it's not because of your eye?" Hilda asked suddenly.
"No, I don't think so. You're really good at that."
Hilda shrugged.
"If you were terrible, I wouldn't care," Newt said. "Which is how I hope you feel about me, because I'm kind of terrible in bed. And some might say, a lot of other places."
"Oh Newton, don't be ridiculous," Hilda said. She buried her face in Newton's hair, which had to be sticking up in some interesting ways right now. "Not everyone can just talk about feelings, you know."
"Anyway I could learn to do it, I mean, that," Newt said. "Unless, I don't know, you don't want to. What do you mean, talk about feelings?"
"Sweetheart," Hilda said. "We need to get you something to eat."
"You mean like, food, because you think I'm not making sense and that blood sugar controls all higher brain functions."
"Yes, that's what I mean."
"And then," Newt said, "Can we come back to bed?"
"Yes," Hilda said, kissing her hairline.
"Every night?"
Hilda stilled. "Yes," she said.
"Because now that the world isn't ending, maybe you were planning—"
"Newton." Hilda tipped her chin up with one finger and looked into her face. She was blushing. "Every night."