Word count: 2,117
belong to Marc Cherry.
Description: Bree is a bi-polar, frisky drunk, and Lynette doesn't know what to make of it.
Agitation is a common feeling for Lynette. She experienced stress and frustration on a daily basis with her kids, husband, and work. But she couldn't figure out why she was feeling so anxious; she was only playing poker with her friends, but she felt like she was trapped in a horror film with someone about to attack her. Edie and Gabby had left the game early, and now Lynette glanced across the table. Bree looked up from her wine glass, licked her lips and met her eyes. Bree tucked in her chin and smiled in such a way that it caused a light shiver to bolt up Lynette's spine. Lynette gulped, took a deep breath and looked away. Either she had had way too much coffee to drink, or not nearly enough.
"Oh, look at the time. I have an early deadline tomorrow and I don't want to be up all night drawing," Susan said, pushing her chair out from the table. "If I work past 3 a.m. all of my drawings start to look evil. Of course while I'm drawing I think they are cute, but in the morning…boy, they are sinister."
"Well, okay, Susan. Thanks for coming. Bye," Bree stood up slowly, gripping the table for support, and walked her to the door. Lynette got up too, just in time to see Bree stumble and almost fall. Lynette's stomach twisted in knots. Something definitely felt wrong.
Bree saw Lynette standing in the doorframe, "Lynette, would you please help me pick up?"
"Sure," Lynette scrutinized Bree's every move as they cleared the dining room table, and Lynette came to the conclusion that Bree was totally drunk. She was afraid to call her out on it, because she knew Bree was the defensive type, but she had to say something. This was not like Bree at all, and Lynette found it amusing.
"You're drunk," Lynette phrased it as a statement of fact.
Bree's eyes widened and she opened her mouth like she was about to deny it, but instead she moved close and rested her forehead against Lynette's whispering, "yes, I am."
Lynette stared back at her amazed; she could smell the alcohol on Bree's breath. She grabbed Bree's shoulders in wonder and smirked, "I've never seen you like this." Lynette examined Bree's dilated pupils and rosy cheeks.
"Well, how novel for you, then," Bree smiled and led Lynette away from the kitchen. "Lynette, dance with me. It's been ages since I've danced. Come on." Her words were definitely slurred. Bree leaned on Lynette pulling her around trying to get her to dance.
Lynette's anxious, uncomfortable feeling grew stronger and she tried to stop her dancing, "Um, Bree, maybe you should sit down and eat something?"
Bree stumbled and fell on Lynette, causing them both to crash to the floor, missing hitting Bree's coffee table by inches. Bree gasped in worry, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Lynette said from her position on the floor.
"Oh, good. I think I ripped my skirt," Bree laughed.
A moment passed and Bree remained on top of her, just how they had landed. Bree's body felt slack, heavy and soft, and her head was resting just under Lynette's. "This is nice," Bree murmured to Lynette's neck, her hand snaking up to twirl tendrils of her hair. Bree's breath gently grazed Lynette's collarbone, caused another lightning bolt of sensation to course down Lynette's spine, and this time it struck her center. Lynette began to realize her general anxiety had quite a lot to do with her direct physical position to Bree, and it troubled her.
"Bree, please get up. This is so not like you," Lynette tried to squirm out from under her friend, but it only served to exacerbate her rapidly warming condition.
Bree pulled her head up and looked lovingly at Lynette's face. Bree sighed, then whispered, "I love you," before moving down to kiss Lynette full on the mouth. She slowly pulled back, smiling, and opened her eyes. Lynette's mouth had involuntarily jerked forward in an effort to maintain the contact, and she mentally chastised herself, 'what the fuck? Get it together Scavo. She is drunk and doesn't know what she is saying.' Bree fell back down on Lynette and her entire body stiffened.
"What's wrong," Bree mumbled, "you're like a nice soft teddy bear."
"Bree, get off of me now," Lynette said quite firmly, she was aroused and nervous beyond words. Bree reluctantly worked on pulling herself up. She pushed herself back, dragging her entire torso over Lynette's body to sit back on her knees. Lynette lay perfectly still and clenched her teeth, fighting a moan.
Bree stood up on wobbly knees and reached behind her, "Oh, no. I did rip my skirt!" Lynette sat up on her knees, but before she could get into a standing position, Bree turned around and asked Lynette to examine the rip. The entire split up the back of the skirt had torn, and Lynette was facing Bree's pale, perfect, bare ass. Her mouth dropped open when she detected the hint of a sage colored thong between her cheeks.
Bree turned around and brought Lynette to her feet, forgetting about her torn skirt. With unnerving excitement Bree said, "you know sometimes I have the most overwhelming urge to hug you, but for some reason I never do. So this is for all those times." Bree wrapped her arms around Lynette, pressing against her and squeezed her. Bree held Lynette's rigid body, swaying gently; Lynette finally allowed herself to relax into the embrace. Obviously, Bree was feeling rather affectionate tonight, and all Lynette could do was roll with it. They sat down on the couch, still hugging. Bree clung to her for dear life. Lynette shut her eyes and enjoyed the sweet softness and lavender scent of Bree.
A warm wetness dripped onto Lynette's neck, and she momentarily thought that Bree had drooled on her, but then she felt Bree's chest contract and heave, followed by a loud swallow and she realized Bree was crying. Another side of Bree she had never seen. Alarmed, Lynette rocked her gently, "It's okay, sweetheart. Whatever it is, you can tell me."
"I—I don't know. I'm drowning," Bree's voice was high pitched and she sounded completely lost. Bree suddenly pulled away from Lynette, and stood up. Immediately, Lynette missed the softness of Bree's sweater, skin and heat. Lynette watched Bree cross the room in disturbed awe: her hair was messed up, her sweater had shifted up and bunched exposing her black bra and her white back. To top it off her ass was hanging out, Lynette couldn't tear her eyes away from Bree's swishing hips. When Bree had reached the bathroom, she growled in frustration and tore her skirt completely off.
'Oh, my God, she has lost it! I've lost it,' Lynette thought. Lynette contemplated running for the door, but she had to make sure Bree would be alright. If she left now, things were bound to be awkward when they saw each other again. Things were bound to be awkward no matter what. Lynette heaved herself off the couch, and listened at the bathroom door, the water was running and she thought she could hear Bree crying, but she wasn't really sure what that sounded like. She knocked on the bathroom door. Bree opened it, she dabbed her eyes with a cloth, and smiled at Lynette.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…cry on you," Bree moved her hand to Lynette's neck to wipe away any remaining tears, but the gesture just served to raise the hairs on the back of her neck. Lynette grabbed Bree's hand to get it away from her body. She continued holding it, "It's okay. You can cry on me anytime, Sweetie."
"Lynette, I'm not wearing any pants," Bree blurted out, giggling, her mood shifting again. Lynette glanced down and sure enough Bree stood there in her sage thong, the thin straps clinging to her hips. Lynette admired her muscular thighs and long legs.
"I'm getting really tired," Bree said, yawning. She reached up to undo her pearl necklace. She was having trouble getting the clasp undone, due to her impaired motor skills, and she was getting frustrated. Lynette had never seen so many emotions come out of Bree. "Bree, stop. Let me get that," Lynette moved behind her and easily undid the necklace. She slipped the earrings out of her ears, and Bree leaned back against her, smiling broadly, she reached her arms around Lynette's waist. Bree seemed to have forgotten she wasn't wearing pants, or didn't care, but Lynette found her self caring quite a bit about Bree's naked ass.
"Okay, Bree, let's go upstairs and get you into bed," Lynette pushed her forward. "Bree, where are your kids?"
"Um, they are either here…or not here. I'm sure they're fine, wherever they are," Bree said climbing the stairs.
Lynette diverted her eyes from Bree's Derriere, but she was getting increasingly worried about Bree's erratic behavior. Lynette hesitated before stepping over the threshold into Bree's bedroom. This was not a good situation. When Lynette walked into the room, Bree was already lying on her bed in her underwear and bra, her sweater had been discarded, "Lynette, do you think I'm pretty? Do I look like I'm over 40? Because your body is so perfect. I mean sooo perfect, and you've had two more kids then I've had."
"Bree, get under the covers and go to sleep."
"Answer my question."
Lynette took a deep breath, this was ridiculous, "yes, Bree. I think you are very sexy…"
"Sexy?" Bree looked straight into Lynette's eyes, floored. "You look at me like that?"
Lynette's heart rate increased, and her face turned red, it was now or never, "yes." Her voice was barely audible. Bree stood up and crossed the room closing the distance between them.
"Do know what's funny? I think you are…" Bree unzipped Lynette's sweatshirt and pulled it off her shoulders, exposing the thin camisole she sported without a bra. Her nipples were hard and visible through the light material.
"Bree, no, you're drunk. We're going to regret this," Lynette told her, but she remained glued to the spot.
"We'll worry about it tomorrow. Right now, just touch me," Bree purred, licking her lips, before leaning in to kiss her. 'Soft' echoed in Lynette's head. It was her only thought, over and over as their tongues touched. Lynette obliged Bree's request, running her hands over the curvy planes of her body.
Lynette realized Bree had directed her to the bed, and had apparently regained her fine motor function; she had no trouble unbuttoning Lynette's jeans. Bree pushed her hand inside, dipping her fingers into Lynette's wetness.
For the second time that night, Bree fell down on top of her. Lynette kicked off her jeans. She licked and nipped at Bree's shoulder, as Bree continued to touch Lynette, "Do you like this, baby?" Lynette whimpered encouragingly. Bree kissed Lynette's neck, and chest, teasing her nipples with her tongue through Lynette's shirt. Bree moved her head in to join her fingers in their exploration of Lynette's desire. "Bree!" Lynette's head lolled, and her hips rolled to match Bree's steady rhythm. Her movements became erratic and desperate, and she came hard, little earthquakes wracking her body.
She heard Bree's exquisite laugh, and Bree swooped down to kiss her lovingly. Lynette turned onto her side and pulled Bree closer, lifting Bree's leg and placing it over her thigh. Lynette pulled her thong off and flung it across the room. She unclasped Bree's bra, and it worked it's way off of her shoulder's creating a little shelf for her breasts. Lynette bent forward to suck on each hardened nipple. Bree moaned appreciatively, and she ground herself against Lynette, seeking contact and release. Lynette found the action extremely arousing, she adjusted her leg, and pulled on Bree's hips, until they had found the perfect position their most intimate parts moving together.
Lynette slipped her fingers between their bodies to caress Bree's clit, her hips jerked forcefully, Lynette looked at her face: eyes closed tightly and mouth wide open in astonishment at the feeling. After a few brief minutes of Lynette's assistance Bree stiffened, she clutched Lynette, and let out a long, grateful moan. Lynette came too upon hearing Bree. They continued moving together slowly coming down from their delicious high. They were both flushed and sweaty. Bree couldn't stop smiling as she cuddled Lynette, who sighed and felt weightless, her fear and trepidation had vanished. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Bree pressed closer to her sighing in her ear, 'so soft' Lynette thought, before sleep overtook her.