𝐂𝐡𝐩𝐭 𝟏𝟎

The movie ended, and Kamala insisted I come to her house. Her tone was light, but there was a certainty in her voice that left no room for argument. I normally didn't stay out on school nights, always preferring the predictability of my routine. But tonight felt different, as if the air between us carried an unspoken understanding that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say Kamala had something up her sleeve. She was just so calm—too calm. The kind of calm that wasn't born from relaxation but from planning. She carried herself with an ease that made me uneasy, her every movement deliberate, every glance layered with meaning.

"You don't have to, of course," she said, tilting her head in that way she always did when she was being playful. "But I'd like it if you did."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement wrapped in a smile, her words tugging at me like a thread I couldn't resist pulling.

Before I knew it, we were in her car, the hum of the engine filling the silence between us. She kept her eyes on the road, her fingers drumming softly on the steering wheel. I wanted to ask her what was on her mind, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I watched her, studying the way the faint glow of the dashboard lights danced across her face. She seemed perfectly at ease, but something about her demeanor only added to my sense of unease.

We pulled into her driveway, and as she turned off the engine, she finally looked at me. Her smile was warm, but there was a flicker of something behind it—anticipation, maybe. Or something else entirely.

My face heated up, the warmth spreading from my cheeks down my neck. Kamala always had this way of disarming me without even trying, her straightforwardness cutting through any defenses I might have put up. And now, that familiar ache was starting to stir, low and insistent, growing stronger with each passing second.

It wasn't fair, honestly. This woman had some kind of magical power or something—how else could I explain the way she affected me? Every glance, every subtle movement of hers seemed to light a fire in me that I couldn't control. It was like she knew exactly how to pull at the threads of my restraint until they unraveled completely.

Why do I get so horny around her all the time? I wondered, almost frustrated with myself. But the truth was, it wasn't just physical. It was the way she carried herself, with that quiet confidence that seemed to fill any room she walked into. The way her voice could shift from playful to commanding in an instant. The way her smile could disarm me, make me feel seen and vulnerable all at once.

The ride there was a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the tires on the road. I couldn't shake the feeling that she was up to something. Kamala always had this way of keeping her thoughts hidden, her warm smile serving as both a welcome and a distraction. Tonight was no different.

As we pulled into her driveway, the house loomed softly in the amber glow of the streetlights. She turned to me, her eyes sparkling with an unreadable intent, and flashed that signature smile—the one that always seemed to suggest she was three steps ahead of everyone else.

"Come on," she said, her voice as smooth as the evening air, before stepping out of the car.

I followed close behind as she unlocked the door, her movements quick and practiced, like muscle memory. The faint creak of the hinges welcomed us inside, and I was instantly enveloped by the familiar aroma of vanilla. It wasn't overpowering—just enough to make the house feel alive, like a comforting presence lingering in every corner. The soft light from the hallway lamp spilled across the polished wooden floors, casting long shadows that danced as we moved. I glanced around, taking in the details I always noticed when I came here: the eclectic collection of books stacked unevenly on the coffee table and the faded photographs framed along the walls.

"Make yourself at home," she said, gesturing toward the couch. Then, with a smirk that felt both inviting and conspiratorial, she added, "I'll be right back." And with that, she disappeared down the hallway, leaving me standing there, the faint smell of vanilla and unanswered questions lingering in the air.

My heart raced as my mind replayed her grin, the subtle tilt of her head when she'd told me to make myself at home. She knew exactly what she was doing—she always did. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but it was no use. Kamala had a way of making everything else fade into the background, leaving only her and the overwhelming effect she had on me. And tonight, I had a feeling she was going to use that to her advantage.

After a little while, Kamala came back into the room, her arms full of neatly folded pajamas. There were about five different sets, a mix of colors and patterns, ranging from cozy flannel to soft satin. She plopped down beside me on the couch, her presence warm and effortless.

I looked through the pajamas and my eye caught the pink one. Anything that's pink or gray, I'm on board. I gently grabbed the set from Kamala as her face lit up. It was a pink tank top along with matching pink shorts.

"Okay," she said, her voice light but laced with that familiar confidence that made my pulse quicken. "I want you to stay the night with me, and I know you didn't bring anything, so I brought these out."

Her eyes sparkled as she leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, completely at ease. "Pick whichever one you want," she added, gesturing to the neatly folded sets. "I promise they're all clean."

I glanced at the options, but my mind was barely registering them. My attention was caught on her—how close she was sitting, the way her shoulder brushed against mine when she shifted slightly. She smelled faintly of vanilla and something else, something uniquely her.

"You planned this, didn't you?" I asked, my voice wavering between teasing and accusation.

Kamala's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Maybe," she said, her tone playful. "But can you blame me? You're always so quick to run off on school nights. I figured I'd make it harder for you to say no this time."

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, the double meaning in them impossible to ignore. I looked back at the pajamas, trying to focus on something other than the heat building between us. My fingers hovered over a soft lavender set, the fabric silky under my touch.

"These okay?" I asked, glancing up at her.

"Perfect," she said, her gaze lingering on me just a moment too long. "I'll grab you a toothbrush and some other stuff in a bit."

She stood, her movements graceful, and turned toward the hallway. Before she disappeared, she looked back over her shoulder, her expression soft but still holding that hint of mischief. "Make yourself comfortable. Tonight's just getting started."

I kicked off my shoes and placed them neatly by the door, lining them up next to Kamala's. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. I unfolded the pajama set she'd handed me, the fabric cool and smooth against my skin as I changed. The outfit was simple but impossibly comfortable, hugging me in all the right places. It even smelled faintly of that familiar vanilla scent that seemed to follow Kamala everywhere.

I placed my purse down on the couch, smoothing out the strap before sitting back for a moment. The silence wasn't uncomfortable—it felt like the house itself was waiting, watching, holding its breath. Footsteps echoed softly down the hallway, and I looked up just in time to see Kamala emerge. She'd changed into a blue pajama set, loose-fitting and casual, but something about the way she wore it made it look elegant. The top hung slightly off her shoulder, revealing just a hint of smooth skin, and her hair was tied back loosely, strands framing her face in a way that felt deliberate but effortless.

She caught my gaze and smiled, that warm, magnetic smile that always managed to make my pulse race. "Comfy?" she asked, her voice light as she leaned casually against the doorway.

I nodded, tucking my legs beneath me on the couch. "Yeah, actually. These are really nice."

Her grin widened, and she took a few steps closer, her presence instantly filling the room. "I'm glad. I don't wear that set much—it suits you better, anyway."

Her words hung in the air, teasing yet sincere, and I felt my face heat up again. I looked away, pretending to straighten the hem of the top as she made her way to the couch. She sat down next to me, close enough that our knees almost touched, her gaze soft but curious.

"You hungry? Thirsty?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "I can grab something from the kitchen if you want."

"No, I'm okay. But you do know we have school tomorrow right?"

Kamala's smile softened, her eyes studying me for a moment before she replied. "I know. That's why I asked you to stay. You deserve a break from all the rules you make for yourself."

Her words hit deeper than I expected, and for a moment, I forgot how to respond. She always had a way of seeing right through me, breaking down walls I didn't even realize I'd put up. And yet, I couldn't find it in me to be guarded around her—not tonight.

"You wanna play some board games?"

"Board games?" I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice.

She shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yeah. You know, those old-school things people played before phones and streaming took over." Her eyes sparkled as she tilted her head. "Unless you're scared I'll beat you."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Oh, please. You're underestimating me. I'll have you know I'm a total board game champ."

Kamala raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Big words for someone who doesn't even know what games I have."

She stood, her hands slipping into mine with a touch so soft it sent a shiver up my spine. Without a word, she led us down the hallway, her fingers curling lightly around mine, the warmth of her skin grounding me. I didn't ask where we were going—I trusted her, even as my heart began to race with anticipation.

When we stepped into her bedroom, I couldn't help but take in my surroundings. Kamala's room was pristine, the cleanest space I'd ever seen. The scent of vanilla was even stronger here, mingling with something else faintly floral. Everything had its place, from the neatly stacked books on the nightstand to the perfectly fluffed pillows arranged symmetrically on her massive bed. My gaze lingered on the bed for a moment—big enough to practically get lost in—and then shifted to the wall-mounted TV, nearly as large as the bed itself. It was a room that somehow felt both luxurious and lived-in, like every detail had been carefully considered but not overthought.

Kamala sat down on the edge of the bed, her hand still holding mine, and I followed, sinking into the soft mattress beside her. She didn't let go, though—her grip remained steady, her thumb absentmindedly brushing against my knuckles. Her eyes never left me, and I could feel the intensity of her gaze as it lingered, soft but unwavering.

Time seemed to stretch, the silence between us filled with a quiet tension I couldn't quite place. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it was charged, like the air before a summer storm. I tried to focus on the faint hum of the air conditioning or the way the light from the TV reflected on the polished floor, but her presence was magnetic, pulling my attention back to her every time.

It wasn't until a few moments passed that it finally hit me—there were no board games. My eyes darted to the doorway, then back to her, a small laugh escaping me as I shook my head.

"You're sneaky, you know that?" I said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Kamala tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk. "Sneaky? How so?"

I gestured vaguely toward the room. "Board games? What happened to Scrabble and Clue?"

She chuckled, leaning back slightly and propping herself up on her hands. "What can I say? Plans change." Her voice was smooth, teasing, but there was a softness in her eyes that made my stomach flutter. "Besides, I think this is more fun, don't you?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words caught in my throat. Kamala always had a way of steering things without being pushy, making every moment feel natural, even when it took an unexpected turn.

"Kamala?" I said, my tone cautious, breaking the silence that had stretched between us.

Her head tilted slightly, and she looked at me, her expression soft but unreadable. "Hmm?" she murmured, her voice low and inviting, as if coaxing me to say what was on my mind.

I hesitated, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of the pink pajama top I'd borrowed. My heart was beating too fast, the weight of her gaze making it hard to focus. "What... what are we doing?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips curved into a small smile, but there was something serious in her eyes now, something that told me she'd been waiting for this question. She leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees as she studied me, as though she were carefully choosing her next words.

"What do you want us to be doing?" she asked gently, her tone free of judgment, just curiosity.

I blinked, caught off guard by her response. She had a way of turning things around, putting the ball in my court when I wasn't ready for it. My thoughts were a jumble, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks again.

"I don't know," I admitted, my voice shaky but honest. "It's just... I feel like—"

"Like you're not sure what's happening?" she finished for me, her smile softening.

I nodded, relieved and frustrated all at once. "Yeah. That."

She took a deep breath, standing directly in front of me now, her posture straight but her expression unreadable. Her hands were on her hips, and her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken.

"Do you remember how you were being so bossy to me today at school?" she asked, her tone calm but edged with something playful—maybe even challenging.

I blinked, taken aback. "Bossy? I wasn't being bossy," I said, my voice defensive but faltering under her steady gaze.

Her eyebrows arched, and she crossed her arms, tilting her head in that way she always did when she wasn't buying what I was selling. "Oh, really? Telling me what to do isn't bossy?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but her smirk stopped me. It wasn't an accusation; it was a tease, her way of calling me out without any real malice.

"I wasn't that bad," I muttered, glancing away, but the heat rising in my cheeks betrayed me.

Kamala stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking until she was just a breath away. Her presence was overwhelming, her calm confidence making it impossible to look anywhere but at her.

"You were," she said softly, her voice dropping just enough to make my stomach flip. "But you know what?"

"What?" I asked, barely managing to get the word out.

"I think it's kind of cute," she said, her smirk softening into a smile. "You trying to act like you're in charge."

Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication, and I felt my heart race as I tried to process what she'd just said.

"I wasn't—" I started, but Kamala raised a finger, gently pressing it to my lips to stop me.

"Shh," she said, her tone teasing but firm. "You don't have to defend yourself. I liked it. But now..." Her smile widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I think it's my turn to be in charge."

Her tone was light, but there was something else beneath it—something that made the air between us feel electric. I swallowed hard, trying to figure out if I was supposed to say something back or just wait for her next move.

"You thought I'd let it slide, didn't you?" she continued, her voice teasing now, as if she were daring me to deny it. "Like you could boss me around all day and there wouldn't be any consequences?"

"I wasn't bossing you around," I said quickly, though the words came out more like a plea than a defense.

Kamala's eyes narrowed slightly, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Hmm. You sure about that?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Her proximity, her tone, the way her gaze seemed to pin me in place—it was all too much.

She let the silence linger for a moment before straightening up and crossing her arms, her smirk softening into a playful grin. "It's okay," she said finally, her tone lighter now. "I like a little fire. Makes things more interesting."

I blinked, unsure whether to feel relieved or even more nervous. Kamala always had this way of keeping me on my toes, never letting me settle into one feeling for too long.

"Come on," she said, turning toward the bed and patting the spot beside her. "Let's see if you can handle me being in charge for once."

Shit. My thoughts were a mess, spiraling out of control as I felt the heat in my cheeks spread down my neck. My panties were already soaked, and it only got worse with every word she spoke, her tone wrapping around me like a spell I couldn't escape. My heart pounded against my ribs, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep eye contact to save my life.

"Kamala..." I tried to say something, anything to ground myself, but the words died on my tongue the moment she moved.

Before I could process it, her lips were on mine, capturing them in a kiss so desperate, so passionate, it left no room for hesitation. Her hands cupped my face, firm yet gentle, her fingers threading through my hair as she tilted my head just enough to deepen the kiss.

A soft whimper escaped me, and I felt her smile against my lips, like she knew exactly what she was doing to me. She kissed me like she'd been waiting forever for this moment, pouring every ounce of unspoken emotion into it. My hands found their way to her waist, gripping the fabric of her pajamas as if I needed something to anchor myself.

The world around us faded away—no more pristine bedroom, no more vanilla scent lingering in the air. It was just her and me, and the overwhelming intensity of this moment.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against mine, I was breathless. My chest heaved as I tried to steady myself, but her presence, her gaze, made it impossible.

"Still think I'm sneaky?" she murmured, her voice husky and low, her lips brushing against mine as she spoke.

I couldn't speak, couldn't think. All I could do was shake my head, my hands still gripping her waist like she might disappear if I let go.

Kamala chuckled softly, her breath warm against my skin. "Good. Now, let's see how far you'll let me take this."

Before I could respond, Kamala gently but firmly guided me onto my back. Her gaze was intense, filled with something raw and unspoken. Each of her touches, tender yet deliberate, seemed to send waves of warmth through me. She kissed my neck softly, each press of her lips sending shivers down my spine.

Her movements were confident, and I could feel the energy between us shift, becoming charged and undeniable. My heart raced as her hands traced over me, and I instinctively reached for her, my fingers resting against her waist. It felt like we were both caught in this moment, unable to look away or think of anything but each other.

Her hands reached for the edge of my shirt as she pulled it over my head with ease. My breaths were becoming heavier and so was Kamala's. Her hand moved with quickness. My hands instinctively finding her waist. She took my hands placing them right above my hand.

Kamala's hands moved with a quiet confidence, lifting my shirt off with a fluidity that left me breathless. My heart pounded faster, each beat echoing in the charged space between us. The air around us seemed to thicken, heavy with unspoken words and feelings, as if this moment was both a beginning and an overwhelming realization.

I could feel her breath against my skin, her presence almost suffocating in the best way. My hands moved of their own accord, instinctively finding her waist, pulling her closer. She responded by gently guiding my hands, the gesture unspoken yet intimate, signaling that we were both feeling the same intensity, the same pull toward something neither of us could yet define.

Everything felt amplified—the steady rise and fall of our breaths, the heat of her body against mine, the way time seemed to slow in the face of something unspoken but undeniably real.

"No, you're not in charge tonight. I am."

Her words hit me like a wave, and for a moment, everything stopped. My breath caught, and I met her gaze, my heart hammering in my chest. There was no mistaking the authority in her voice, but it wasn't harsh or demanding—it was confident, calm, like she knew exactly what she wanted, and I couldn't help but feel the pull of that certainty.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes made the words disappear. She was close, so close I could feel the warmth of her body, and in that moment, I knew there was no escaping the energy between us.

She placed gently kisses starting my thigh all the way down to the center of my shorts. She slid them off and tossed them tot eh side leaving in just my underwear.

"You're safe with me, mama." she whispered, her voice soft but firm, as if reassuring me more than herself. There was something in her words, in the way she looked at me, that made my heart skip. Kamala wasn't just asking for trust; she was giving me hers, opening herself up in ways I hadn't expected.

She kissed my inner thighs, slowly pulling my panties down to my ankles. As she came back up, her face turned got that of awe.

"Oh my goodness, it's always so pretty, Allura. She said, her voice filled with admiration and warmth.

She blew on my center just as she placed her mouth on it. The sensation sending a shiver down my spine. I instinctively let out a moan as her tongue went through my slickness. Her tongue worked in ways I couldn't imagine. I looked down as her eyes were locked on mines. I threw my head back but just as I did, I felt two fingers find their way inside. Her hands moved at a steady pace and I could feel myself on the edge.

"Kamala..." I couldn't even speak through my moans.

My body trembled, and instinctively, I tried to close my legs. But Kamala held me firmly, guiding them back to where they had been, her presence grounding me in the moment.

"I'm gonna cum, I can't take much more."

Just as the words left my mouth, she pulled back, her movements slow and deliberate. I looked down, feeling a mix of confusion and vulnerability, unsure of what had just happened.

"Yes you can, and you will." Her tone left no room for argument. "Say it."

"I can and I will."

Her lips formed into a satisfied smile as she placed her lips back onto my center and spat. This time, more sloppy and persistent. I was trying got hold on but the more her tongue roamed, the closer I was getting. I felt a mix of emotions—as her actions made it harder to focus on anything but the overwhelming pull between us.

My legs began to shake once more and before I knew it, I felt my juices flowing before I could stop them. Kamala let out a low laugh as she caught all of my liquids into her mouth.

"You're such a creamy girl. Look at that." She removed her fingers as licked them clean.

I was trying to steady my breath as I was coming down from my high. Kamala climbed on top of me putting one leg over mine. Our centers aligned perfectly.

"We're not done, sweet heart."

I looked down as she placed my leg over her shoulder and began rocking her hips. I couldn't help but watch as Kamala shifted, her movements tender and purposeful. Everything around us seemed to fade, leaving just the closeness between us. I felt every inch of the space between us disappear, replaced by a quiet understanding, a shared connection that went beyond words.

"Kamala, I don't think I can take any more."

She placed her hands on both sides of my face as she leaned in closer. Her eyes locked with mine, and in that moment, everything else seemed to disappear. Her face just inches from mine.

"I know you can, pretty girl. You've got it in you, I know you do. Now take it for me." Her tone was so seductive and it was pulling me in each second.

My hips started to rock with hers and I could feel her wetness on mines. Her face was determined  and serious. She let out a moan so beautiful that I had to hold back that second orgasm.

"Look at what you do me to, Allura."

Our lips met and I could feel the grin tugging at her lips. "Don't you ever try to boss me around like that again. I'm in charge and the next time you do that-"

She paused, her gaze intensifying as she gently bit my bottom lip. "This is just a warning," she said, her voice low and firm. "Things will only fucking escalate from here."

Her pace quickened but it remained steady. Kamala's breath was becoming much more heavy and I could feel the slight tremble in her legs. "Fuck, Allura." She shouted out as she started to tremble and I too could feel my self close to the edge again.

Kamala's gaze dropped to me, her hand gently resting near my throat. The weight of her presence was undeniable, her touch both grounding and intense, as if she was testing the boundaries of our connection.

Her voice was calm but firm, a quiet authority in her words. "Say you're sorry," she said, her eyes searching mine, waiting for a response, the tension between us thickening.

"I'm sorry, Kamala," I said softly, my words carrying more weight than I expected. There was something in the way she looked at me, a quiet understanding, that made me feel like this moment was more than just an apology—it was an unspoken exchange, a shared understanding growing between us.

"Sorry for what exactly?" she asked, her eyebrow raised in a challenge. Her face was so close now that I could see every detail in her eyes, the warm brown depths that seemed to hold me captive in that moment.

"I'm sorry for being bossy with you," I said, my voice almost pleading, the weight of my words sinking in. There was a vulnerability in admitting it, something I hadn't expected to feel, but it felt important in that moment.

She smiled softly, her lips brushing against mine in a moment of quiet approval. "That's my good girl," she murmured, her words warm and comforting, making me feel a sense of calm settle over me.

As our hips stayed aligned, Kamala let out a long moan as she arched her back. We let out a relieved moan as she fell forward onto my chest. I was also coming down my from high as our breaths were heavy. Kamala grabbed the blanket off tot he side and placed it over both of us as she spoke.

"I love you, Allura," she whispered, her voice soft but certain. She rested her arms across my chest, gazing up at me with a warmth that made my heart flutter, her words hanging in the air between us, heavy with meaning.

My heart raced at her words, and before I could even process the moment, the words spilled out. "I love you too, Kamala," I said, the sincerity behind them clear, the weight of my feelings finally coming to the surface.

We lay there in quiet contentment, the world outside fading away. I glanced down for a moment, seeing Kamala peacefully asleep, her breathing steady and calm, a soft expression of tranquility on her face.