S L I C K is an erotica series for A+ members about titillation, torture, fucking and getting off.

This is the first installment of the erotica series Constellations, about finding and keeping kink connections and navigating polyamorous love. 

Content notes: knife cutting off clothing

“How’d it go?” Paige called from her desk in the corner of the kitchen. the one covered in plants, next to the wall of plants, the one that Bennett called her jungle desk. Her hair was messy and held together with various bobby pins in a way that Bennett could only describe as “up.” Paige tipped her chair back so she could see down the hallway to Bennet at the front door.

Bennett took off their leather jacket and black leather harness boots and dropped them in the entry. “Bad,” they mumbled in response. When they turned the entryway light off, all they could see was Paige’s expectant face lit by the glow of her jungle desk lamp.

“What?” she called. But she could already tell what kind of date it was. No bounce in Bennett’s step, no excitement, no rushing in to sweep her into a bear hug and immediately start with adjectives like “luminous” and “luscious” about their new crush. She had been looking at the clock every few minutes, waiting for them to arrive back home, but now that they were here, she was desperately trying not to be too interested. Bennett always got squirrelly when she was too interested.

“Um,” Bennett sighed, a little louder. “Not great. But, you know, fine. She’s…nice. Seems like a great person.”

“No spark, huh,” Paige called, shuffling papers and closing her notebook so it looked like she was doing something. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t just a little relieved, but she was disappointed, too, because Bennett had been so excited about the date.

“Guess not.” Bennett went to the kitchen light and turned on the kettle for tea. They leaned against the green formica counter and stared at the tiles on the floor with their arms crossed.

Paige got up and wriggled into Bennett’s arms, circling her arms around their thick shoulders. She smoothed her off-white slip down her thighs as she took the few steps to them. Bennett, whose body and embrace was such a comfort to her; Bennett, whose kisses never failed to light a fire in her belly. She wanted Bennett to have everything they wanted. Sometimes she felt a twinge of guilt or regret or frustration that she couldn’t do it all for Bennett, but another part of her knew better than to buy into that one-soulmate narrative, and she was grateful someone else could.

Bennett sighed again, mouth turned down in a discouraged frown.

“Dating is hard,” Paige offered softly, kissing their neck, then their jawline, then standing on tip toes, clearly asking for a deeper kiss.

Bennett dipped their face away and Paige kissed their jaw on the other side.

“I want you to have what you want,” Paige said, for the millionth time.

Bennett kept their eyes down, not responding. Paige’s constellation of intimates were so rich, and it seemed like she was always adding more — another pup playmate, another subby girl who wanted a mommy, another switchy genderfabulous genderqueer who just wanted some dates for a while. Paige was so easy-going, flowing in and out of relationships constantly. Bennett felt a stab of jealousy. Why was it so hard for them, when it was so easy for her?

“I know. Thanks,” Bennett said.

“Hey, come back. To me,” she urged.

They made eye contact, brief and open, for just a moment before Bennett leaned down to kiss her. Paige felt it down through her toes, an electricity that made her feel like her skin was sparkling. She felt Bennett relax and sink in to her, return to her like the true north that she was.

They kissed for a minute, Bennett’s hands snaking up her back and grabbing handfuls of her ass, fingertips dancing on the back of her head to add just a little more force, just a little more power. Paige wanted to drop to her knees right there.

Illustration by Raisa Yavneh

“How can I help, sir?”

Bennett grinned. That ask, that offer, that sweetness was a code phrase of theirs, something that offered service and devotion. Underneath the words, Bennett heard, I’m yours. And they loved it.

“I … don’t know.” Bennett didn’t want to admit it, but they were, in part, still at the restaurant, that kind of nice Italian one with really good gluten-free options and a great wine selection, where their date had been a flop. She just had such potential — they had a few friends in common who all said they would be great together.

Paige wanted a distraction, sure, but also an offering: a reminder that Bennett was the hot butch sir of her dreams. “What about … “ she took Bennett’s fingers in her hand and brought them slowly to her mouth, touching her lips to their fingertips before sucking them in, tonguing them gently. Bennett sighed, and their gaze softened more. Their shoulders dropped another inch away from their ears. Paige swallowed deeper and continued pouring their fingers down her throat, wanting to suck the essence down into her, hungry, eager.

She slowly took Bennett’s fingers back out of her mouth, but didn’t let go of them. “Or, what about … “ and she brought their hand down between her legs, under the slip where she parted her thighs and led Bennett to touch her there. Bennett leaned and twisted their hand to get better reach, stroking the velvety-smooth skin with a few fingers. Paige always could do this to them: offer herself up on a silver platter, not begging exactly, not quite, but knowing the juicy morsel that she was, and, with full acknowledgment of the bounty she had to offer, giving herself freely.

Their mouths came close enough together that Bennett could feel Paige’s breath, could even feel the brush of her lips when she breathed out. “More,” Paige whispered, shivering.

The electric kettle, which Paige diligently kept filled with water, started to whistle. Bennett moved closer, pressing against Paige with a little pressure on her back, pushing her legs open with one of their knees, and pushing the elastic of her panties out of the way to dip in between the folds of her lips.

Paige gasped. “More, you fucker.”

“That’s not very nice, girl.” Bennett grinned, surges of power rolling through them as they felt the wetness between Paige’s thighs.

“I don’t want to be nice,” Paige pouted. “I want you to give it to me.”

“Give you what?”

“Your … you. Your fingers. Your dick. Anything.”

“I like you wanting like this.”

“You would!” Paige cried, frustrated. She liked the games, and Bennett loved to see her frustration, but she could only handle it for so long. Plus, the kettle noise was too much, now it was more of a screech than a whistle. She tried to push Bennett’s arm and leaned over, reaching to turn it off,. Bennett refused to budge their hand, knowing Paige was tethering herself there. “Don’t stop — please!” sh m me said, finally breaking contact in order to flip the button. The noise stopped but Bennett was already withdrawing.

“Don’t go, come back,” Paige cooed, rubbing up against them, her hands on their chest, leaning in close. “Please touch me. Sir. Sir, please.”

Bennett grinned despite themself — grateful, desirous, and turned on. “Up here.” They patted the counter.

“I … what?”

“Up. Here.” Bennett pointed more obviously.

“Oh. Okay …” Paige hesitated, but wanted to try. Her upper body strength probably wasn’t enough to launch her onto the counter but she could try. “Help me?”

Bennett nodded, hands at Paige’s waist, and lifting on the 1-2-3 count. Paige slid onto the counter top easily, feeling weightless and small in Bennett’s hands, even though she almost weighed the same. She liked feeling smaller, contained, taken care of.

They hooked their arm under one of her thighs and bent it so her foot was flat on the counter, spreading her open. Bennett could now see she was wearing the dark blue panties, the ones with the small bow and the slit in the back that were silky. And new.

Bennett kissed her, hard. Paige put her hand up behind her to steady herself on the kitchen cabinets. “I’m sorry,” they said, breaking away.

“Why?” Paige’s lips tingled, and she wet them with her tongue. She wanted more in her mouth, wanted more kisses, fingers.

“This.” Bennett lifted up a knife, and just as Paige saw the light reflecting on the blade as it moved, she felt the cool press of the handle against her thigh. Bennett worked the tip under her panties and sliced them off.

It was so bold that Paige couldn’t decide if she was mad. “You’re replacing those.” She decided it was just hot.

“Deal,” Bennett said, slicing through the waistband of her panties this time. The blue silky fabric fell back onto the counter and Bennett leaned in, wrapping her arms under Paige’s thighs.

Her smell, her taste, the familiar brush of her soft hair all felt like the elixir Bennett needed, and they drank it all in. Their tongue lapped softly in big, soft strokes, until they sucked the delicate bits of flesh into her mouth, swollen and pink. Once, Bennett could feel Paige’s pulse.

Paige didn’t come very easily that way, so when her hand moved from touching Bennett’s shoulder to touching her own clit, Bennett just moved out of the way. They straightened up, swiping their mouth quickly with their other hand before offering more kisses, which Paige eagerly accepted, leaning forward, breathing heavily.

“Fingers, inside,” said Paige. Bennett nodded, their foreheads touching. Their hips were pressed against the counter, between Paige’s legs, and they pressed two fingers just a little deeper into her folds, finding that entrance spot and circling.

“Yeah, like that,” said Paige, still stroking her own clit in a rhythm that made Bennett think she was close to coming. They kissed her again, working their tongue against her lips. Paige pressed against Bennett’s fingers so they slipped in deeper, and Bennett went slowly, with a little pressure pushing up. Paige’s breathing quickened and she started gasping, then yelled out “oh, oh, ohhh,” and moaning louder, her hand moving faster, until every muscle tensed and Bennett could feel her shake and quiver as an orgasm rolled through her. She breathed hard, still quivering, and Bennett leaned into her, head against her breasts, feeling themself unwind with her release.

“Thank you, sir,” Paige whispered into Bennett’s hair, stroking their shoulder. “I needed that.”

“Mm, thank you, too,” Bennett said, lifting their head to kiss her. “I feel high. You are just … intoxicating.”

“After six years, you still want me, huh?” Paige teased, adjusting her legs so she didn’t keep sliding off the counter. She slid her arms around Bennett, holding them close. “I love the way you touch me.”

“Of course. You definitely know how to cheer me up,” Bennett laughed. “Want some tea?”

Paige smiled, eyelids heavy. It was time for bed. Sleepytime tea would be perfect. “Is the water still hot?”

“I doubt it.”

Paige kissed Bennett once more, and moved gently out of their arms to flip the switch on the kettle.

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