Dancing

While it was a poor consolation prize, Tara’s crème brûlée was delicious. Much like everything else she had eaten at La Cime. And if Karen’s repeated, delighted hums were anything to go by the cake was just as good. With the sugar added to their systems (and the wine slowly wearing off), the two found themselves an unusual place. Their spirits were lifted after the awkwardly cut-short moment of intimacy. And yet neither wanted to be the first to talk. Neither wanted to have to talk about the elephant in the room. But with dessert finished they needed to talk.

It was only when their plates were cleared and the check paid (by the rich CEO naturally) that one of them found their courage. Tara felt it should have been her. But then again it wasn’t like she did anything.

“So…” Karen said uncertainly. Tara had never seen the blonde look so unsure. The vision before her was a far cry from the cocksure heroine the world knew. Instead, there was just a woman carefully considering her next words. Her brow furrowed and her mouth turned into a slight frown, Tara could practically see the wheels turning rapidly in her head.

Her date's silence began to worry Tara. She knew the cliché of a person doing something they later regretted while drunk. But shouldn’t that be the morning after? Shouldn’t she get one night, at least? Shouldn’t she at least be allowed to lose her V-card? Or at the very least get to cum?

It was only when her date offered the short girl her hand that the blonde spoke again. And when she did Karen projected so many mixed emotions. A hopeful, little smile. An affectionate glint in her eyes. A barely perceptible, nervous tremor in the hand by her side. And yet her voice came calmly.

“Dance with me.” It took a moment for Tara to process what Karen said. She had almost forgotten the blonde’s promise to dance with her. But she instantly remembered her ****.

“I… I can’t really dance.” Tara said, but her hand found its way into Power Girl’s gentle grasp as the blonde helped her up.

“I won’t **** you,” Karen said gently at first before she grew brasher. “But if you give me a chance, I bet I can get you to like it.”

With that, Tara decided to follow her to the dance floor. Admittedly this choice was mostly made for her. But she didn’t say no. Especially when she got to watch Power Girls slacks-clad bum swinging back and forth as she led her date to the dance floor.

Much to Tara’s relief, the dance floor was neither completely empty nor in the center of the restaurant. When the two reached the desired spot, Karen stopped and turned to face the shorter girl. With their hands already joined it felt so natural to slip into position. Tara’s free hand rose to rest on the Kryptonian’s shoulder (or rather the lapel of her jacket given their height difference) as she felt a powerful hand rest in the small of her back.

The two swayed to the soft, sentimental jazz coming from the quartet on the stage. Tara was surprised at how natural slow dancing felt. So she let herself simply get lost in the moment. Enjoying the feeling of their fingers lacing together, the scent of the blonde’s cinnamon perfume, and the look of adoration on Karen’s face.

Of course, she had to hold contact with her date’s cerulean eyes. Or else she would find herself staring directly at Power Girl’s wondrous chest. Even after what happened that still felt a little inappropriate.

It was only a few moments after the two began gently rocking to the music that Karen spoke.

“I…” She started to speak with an uncharacteristic uneasiness. “I’m sorry for… y’know… earlier… under the table…”

“Um,” Tara said quietly looking away from her date’s face and blushing deeply. She wanted to buy time and think of something to say. Something cool and charming that would disarm the awkwardness. But her mouth started talking without her. “You… don’t have to be…”

“Yes I do,” Karen said solemnly. “It was too early. I should have gotten your permission first. I just got carried away. You were just so cute I couldn't resist. But if a guy said that to me I'd probably throw a car at him. So, I'm sorry."

Starstruck, tipsy, and horny as she was, Tara could appreciate that. She knew consent was important. And she figured for a superhero strong enough to take whatever they wanted by ****, it was probably something always at the forefront of her mind. And even though most of her life people had taught her how to say "no," Tara knew it was just as important to say "yes." She just wished it wasn't so embarrassing.

“Besides, I like to think I’ve got the romantic chops to make your first time a little more special than just a quick footjob under the table,” Karen joked boldly before suddenly her eyes went wide and she quickly amended, “Our! Our first time. I, uhh…”

Tara squirmed at that. She figured her virginity was as plain as the nose on her face. But it was a little embarrassing to hear it stated so bluntly, and by accident at that. Especially since it was clear Power Girl was effortlessly comfortable with her sexuality. Tara wasn’t sure what to say in response. She wanted to put her date at ease and let her know that she was more than ready for her first time. And was more than willing to have her first time with Karen. Much more willing. But she couldn’t get the words to form in her head. Which was just as well given her tongue was currently tied into a Gordian knot.

“Whoops. Sorry about that. I know how the whole “ass out of you and me” thing goes, but sometimes you can’t help it.” Karen said a little bashfully. “And I’m not trying to take your first time… I mean if you wanted…”

Tara couldn’t stop herself. She nodded furiously at that. Once again she really wished she was either suave or cool.

“Oh,” Karen said, a genuine smile on her face. “Excited, are you? Good. I am too. In that case, there’s something I need to say. Something I want to give you.”

Tara was more than excited. She was positively electrified. Was she really going to get a kiss from Power Girl? And as she found herself pulled gently against Karen’s body without even a sliver of daylight between them, Tara found her breath lost. Especially looking up at the blonde’s beautiful sapphire eyes as the other woman’s lips parted. But instead of leaning down and capturing the shorter girl’s eager lips, she spoke.

“You can look at them.” She whispered in a smoky voice.

It took a moment to realize what heroin was talking about. And she put the pieces together at the same time Tara noticed exactly where her face was. Pulled in tight against the other woman her face was now situated directly in front of the vast expanse of Power Girl’s massive mammaries. Drinking in the mouthwatering view she noticed the generous cleavage that had been on display throughout their date had grown significantly. Somewhere during their dance, several more buttons had been undone somehow without Tara noticing (She would eventually suspect super speed. Later. When her mind was not overwhelmed by lust.) Now over half of the top of her breasts was open to being ogled by the shorter girl. She could even see the tops of the lacey, black cups of her date’s bra. The black-haired musician could only hope she wasn’t literally drooling at the sight.

“You’re gonna hurt your neck if you keep trying to be polite,” Karen said quietly. “That day under the gazebo I thought your neck was gonna snap. So from now on, there’s no more need for being polite or proper. If you want to stare at my tits, do it.”

As she listened to her date, Tara felt a hand slither up the back of her head. Then Karen gently guided the shorter girl’s head forward. Until the musician was firmly nestled between the Kryptonian’s breasts. She basked in the pillowy warmth pressed against each of her burning cheeks. All the while her nipples turned to diamonds and her womanhood, never truly calmed after the earlier teasing, was positively overflowing. She was frozen in desire. No longer able to sway to the music. Instead, she held on for dear life. Her hands balled up in the other woman’s jacket, one on her waist the other on her collar.

“You know I had a thought,” Karen whispered, her voice dripping in warmth. “If you count the coffee and the Chinese food, this is technically our third date.”

Tara rubbed her legs together, taking in deep ragged breathes, as the implications of that statement sank in.

“I won’t **** you, but I want this. I want you.” The short girl melted as the heroin spoke. “If you say the word we can go back to my place. I’m ready to give myself to you. If not I-”

“Yes,” Tara whispered.