Schoolmates

Pairing: Rory/Paris

Disclaimer: They're not mine; I'm simply letting them explore the world of Sapphic love. And yes, I said Sapphic.

This is the sequel to my earlier piece Shipmates, and should not be read without first beginning there.

Rating: M for mature scenes

Chapter 1: The Afternoon Romp

The ball of white paper flew gently through the air, landing two feet from the plastic garbage container. At the long oak table, Rory Gilmore sat, tapping her pencil against a spiral bound notebook in front of her. She began writing again, then ripped the paper off from the notebook, throwing it angrily. She set down her pen, and rested her head on her arms.

From behind, a pair of arms snaked around her, running gentle hands down her arms. Rory's hair was pushed back and a pair of lips descended on her neck, kissing lightly. Rory leaned back, moaning quietly, as her hands reached back, running through the long blond hair of the girl still kissing her neck, pulling them tightly together. When the blonde's hands pushed under her shirt, Rory pulled away slightly.

"Paris," she whispered, her eyes closed. "We're still in the Franklin office."

"I can't help it; I always want to touch you," she whispered back, her light breath hot on Rory's over stimulated neck. "If you're almost done here, you could let me take you out to dinner and then back to my house, and I can continue this there."

"If I could figure out how to start this college entrance essay, I'd feel better about doing just that."

"Rory, you do realize that it's the first day of school, right? You have almost half a year to write that essay. Besides, maybe you just need to… unwind." Her hand brushed gently against the still exposed skin of Rory's torso. Rory shivered slightly.

"Point taken. Let me call Mom."

Paris only heard one side of the conversation, but the phrases, "work for the Franklin" and "may take a while" caught her attention quickly. Paris smiled to herself. Even though they had been dating officially for a few weeks now, they hadn't had a chance to be alone longer than a few minutes, and Paris was looking forward to some time with her girlfriend.

Rory clicked her cell phone shut, and stood kissing Paris quickly. "I'm all yours."

Paris smiled, hugging Rory tightly. "So where do I get to take you out?"

"Mmm, you made the offer, so you get to pick. But let's go, I'm starving," she turned and walked out, leaving Paris to follow behind in her wake.

---

When Paris finally slid into the driver's seat and turned towards Rory, the other girl slid closer to her, and pulled her in for a smoldering kiss. "I've been waiting to do that since we got off that boat," she whispered. Paris moaned and moved closer to Rory, bringing their lips together again, until a knock came on Paris' window.

Mary stood outside, staring in on them, laughing slightly.

Paris pounded a fist on the steering wheel, before she turned the key in the ignition and lowered the power window about two inches.

"What do you need, Mary?" She asked, the disdain apparent in her voice and on her face.

"Oh, I was just looking for the editor of the Franklin," she said, her eyebrows rising slightly. "I heard you were her."

"And what do you need me for?"

"Just submitting this article for publication. I heard you were short on writers." She slid the white printed paper through the narrow opening in the window, and Paris grasped it tightly, handing it to Rory without looking at it.

"I'll take a look at it, and let you know." Paris pushed up on the window control, and whatever Mary was about to say was drowned out as Paris threw the car in drive and pulled away from the other girl.

"If she thinks I'm going to let her write for the Franklin after all the things she did on the boat, then she has another thing-"

"Paris, this is actually really well written." Rory said, looking up from the sheet she had been reading. "Maybe you should look it over. She was right about us being short on writers."

Paris sighed. "Ok, I'll read it. But first I want to spend the afternoon with you. Without Mary, or anyone else around."

Rory smiled, and slid closer to Paris. She smirked a little, and ran her hand up Paris' thigh slowly. Paris shivered, but didn't move her eyes from the road.

"Rory," She said, in barely a whisper. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Rory said innocently, still moving her hand.

"It's hard to concentrate like this."

"Like what, Paris?"

"With your hand…" she trailed off.

"My hand Paris? What do you mean?" She was slowly sliding her hand under the uniform skirt Paris still wore.

Paris' eyes were narrow slits, as she fought to keep them open.

As Rory's hand brushed the edge of Paris' panties, the car came to a quick halt. Rory pulled her hand back quickly as she looked up.

"The Gellar Mansion?" Rory smiled to herself. "I thought we were going out Paris."

"Well that was before this car ride. I've changed my mind. I'd rather have you all to myself." She stretched across the small car, and pulled Rory tight to her, kissing her soundly. When she pulled back, Rory's eyes were still closed, and she had a small smile on her face. Before Rory could unbuckle her seat belt, Paris was around the car, opening Rory's door.

"I guess chivalry isn't dead after all," Rory commented, as she took Paris' offered hand and slid out of the Porsche.

Paris didn't let go of her hand as they made their way into the front door.

Rory looked around in awe. Although this wasn't the first time she had been in Paris' house, she always loved the way the marble staircase wound down to the pristine entranceway. The chandeliers at their impossible height made her feel as if she stepped into a debutante ball.

Paris tugged insistently on Rory's hand, pulling her in for a deep kiss, as the blonde led her up the wide staircase.

As Paris pulled Rory into her spacious bedroom, Rory glanced around. It had been a while since she had been in Paris' room, and she noted the large ornate canopy bed with a smile.

Paris brushed past her, loosening her tie, and shedding her shoes. "I'm gonna change real quick. Make yourself comfortable." She strode into a side door, and Rory watched in amusement as the blonde's shirt fluttered to the ground, and the door clicked shut.

Rory turned back to the bed, her plan for "comfortable" already forming in her rather cloudy mind. She was still reeling from Paris' earlier assault on her lips, and was anxious to show her girlfriend just how she was feeling.

---

When Paris stepped into the room, a few minutes later, in her white tank top and form fitting jeans, she couldn't believe her eyes. Her girlfriend was spread out on her bed, white button down shirt unbuttoned, but only open slightly, leaving Paris' eyes to wander down the smooth skin of her torso, to Rory's exposed stomach. The regulation Chilton skirt was rolled up at the top, leaving most of her smooth thighs exposed.

"I got hot waiting for you," Rory said by way of explanation. The smirk on her face betrayed her not so innocent intentions. Paris stepped towards her, stopping at the foot of the gigantic bed.

"Nah, you're always hot, but I do find it difficult to tear my eyes away from you right now."

Rory pushed herself up slightly, her hair falling gently on her shoulders, blue eyes dark.

"I always find it difficult to achieve that feat when it comes to you," Rory stated, her eyes running across Paris' lithe body. "Still want to go get dinner Paris?"

"Nope. That means being out in public, and there are so many things I'd like to do to you that society frowns upon if performed in a public venue."

"Like what?" Rory asked, as she pushed herself up, crawling across the bed towards Paris, her shirt hanging open. She made no attempt to cover herself.

Paris' breathing grew heavier; Rory could sense that just from the flushed cheeks. But she didn't stop her motion until she reached Paris and hooked her pointer fingers into the belt loops of Paris' jeans. She leaned forward, bringing her body tight to Paris', as she gently kissed the girl's exposed neck.

"Like what?" she repeated, slightly muffled by her continuous attention to Paris' neck. The blonde moaned slightly.

"Like that, for starters."

"Mmm hmm. And what else?" she asked, before moving her hands to the base of Paris' tank top, and sliding under it slowly.

"Oh, definitely that."

"Is that all?" She asked, pulling away slightly with a fake pout on her face.

"Oh, not even close," Paris responded with a grin. She pushed Rory back onto the bed gently. "I'd start with that." She said casually, backing up slightly from the bed. She walked around it slowly, Rory's eyes following her carefully, as the brunette pushed herself back up to the front of the bed, resting her head on the pillow, her body turned to the blonde, shirt hanging open and exposing the white cotton bra that lay beneath.

"Maybe I would kiss my way up your legs, my tongue moving across your thighs," at this, Rory moaned slightly. "Or maybe not," Paris followed quickly.

"Maybe I'd push open that shirt, run my hands along your chest," She continued, drawing closer to Rory. The girl on the bed moved aside the shirt, slowly.

"I'd like that," Rory whispered, her eyes closed. Paris pushed herself up on the bed, crawling to where Rory lay, eyes closed, half smile gracing her flushed features.

"Yeah? Good, because that's what I really wanted to do anyway," Paris whispered, her face hovering inches above Rory's. She brushed a soft kiss across Rory's slightly parted lips, and pulled back. When the brunette opened her eyes, she saw Paris' brown eyes looking back, with desire evident in her features. Rory's hands tangled themselves in Paris' blonde tresses, and pulled her down, lips colliding blissfully.

Paris' hands ran gently across the girl's stomach, moaning quietly as Rory kissed along her chin, to her neck. Paris fumbled a little, but regained her motor skills and pushed the shirt off of Rory's shoulders. The girl shrugged it off impatiently, not stopping her lips which were now on Paris' collarbone.

Rory hand went under the shirt Paris wore, and she dragged it up Paris' shaking torso. "I'm not wearing anything under this," she whispered.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She paused for a second. "No," she admitted, tightening her arms around the smaller girl, and kissing her soundly. Rory pulled back slightly and worked the tank top off Paris.

Paris blushed and put her arms up in front of her chest. Rory gently stroked her back. "Don't be embarrassed babe. You're beautiful." She turned Paris' face back towards hers, and kissed her deeply.

Paris dropped her arms, and reached to Rory, unclasping her bra from behind. Rory shrugged it off, more intent on Paris' insistent mouth on hers.

When Paris pulled away, Rory finally glanced downward. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. Paris' hair cascaded down, brushing the top of her ample breasts.

Although this wasn't the first time that they had seen each other in a state of undress, Rory was nervous. Despite the confident air around her, she wasn't exactly sure how to proceed. 'But', she reasoned to herself, 'I know what I like', and with that in mind, she reached a shaking hand to run gently across her girlfriend's taut nipples.

Paris moaned, still lost in Rory's kiss, and Rory found it to be the single most erotic thing she had ever heard. She gently pushed the blonde on the bed, never breaking her light contact as her thigh gently pressed against Paris, making the girl release another low moan, and push her pelvis up against Rory's strong leg. Rory quickly moved her thigh away, and Paris groaned in frustration, but pulled Rory close and kissed her.

Rory gently pulled away from Paris' deep kisses, and glanced appreciatively at Paris' chest once more, before taking one of the blonde's nipples between her talented lips.

Paris couldn't contain it any longer; she let out a loud shriek, her hands wrapping themselves in Rory's hair and tugging roughly, as Rory released her captive, only to repeat the process with the neglected nipple.

When Rory heard Paris whimper quietly, she pulled away, watching her girlfriend's face carefully. Paris' eyes were closed tightly, her hands roughly grasping the bedspread, still trying to gain some friction from Rory's absent leg. Rory smiled, reached her hand downward, and she could feel the heat even through Paris' thick jeans.

"Show me," Rory whispered breathlessly. Paris understood her request. She moved Rory's hand in a small circle, pressing down hard at the juncture of her legs. Simultaneously, she pushed her leg up, her thigh moving against Rory. The smaller girl kept up her hand movements, and rhythmically slid across Paris' tensed thigh, moaning slightly at the wanted friction.

Paris was close. Rory could feel it in her grasp, and her rougher movements. She loved seeing Paris like this. Her girl, wild, unrestrained, and hot for her. Certainly nothing with Dean or anyone else had ever compared to this moment, teetering on the brink. Paris' hair was fanned out across the pillow, sweat across her forehead, and swearing under her breath. 'God she's beautiful', Rory noted. She could feel the beginnings of her own orgasm wash over her, and she gave up all thought as she pushed down hard with her hand and whole body one last time.

Rory kissed Paris, muffling the girl's scream of pleasure with her mouth. She herself moaned loudly, and collapsed with abandon, laying half on the bed and half on Paris' sweat drenched body. She felt like all the energy had left her body, and when she finally became aware of her surroundings, Paris was kissing her neck gently, whispering quietly and nearly incoherently to her, arms around her girl's back.

Rory sighed, and nestled in contentedly against Paris' ample chest. Paris tightened her grip possessively, and Rory found that she didn't mind it one bit. They stayed like that for minutes, or hours. Neither one of them had any notion of the time, and they were finally interrupted by the shrill ringing or Rory's cell phone, nestled in her bag, laying near Paris' bedroom door.

Paris groaned, knowing that Rory would never let it just ring, and let the girl leave her side to retrieve it. She wasn't displeased however, as she watched her topless girlfriend reach down. She couldn't help wishing that the Chilton uniform skirt she still wore was a few inches shorter, but despite that injustice, the view was already more than enjoyable.

"Hello?"

Paris listened to the one sided conversation.

"Oh, hi Mom."

A pause.

"What am I doing?" she looked around helplessly, her eyes falling on Paris' half-naked form and blushing scarlet. "Just reviewing some stuff with Paris," she said finally, winking at her with her arms crossed over her chest, suddenly shy once more.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call."

"Well, I think we are going to grab something to eat soon."

"Ok, if you never say that sentence again I'd appreciate it."

"No, I don't think red stripes are the new black."

"Ok, now you're just neurotic. I'm hanging up now."

She laughed. "Bye."

She slowly made her way back to Paris, keeping her head downturned, a blush across her cheeks. Paris watched in amusement, making no effort to cover herself.

"Geez, Gilmore. Are you embarrassed about something?" she teased gently, sitting up to draw her girlfriend in for a deep kiss.

"Well, maybe a little. I mean, come on, it's not like I have a perfect pair like these." She ran a finger between Paris' breasts, widening her eyes appreciatively.

"I don't agree." Paris argued, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, with Rory standing between her spread legs. "I think the most perfect breasts on Earth are right here in front of me." She kissed Rory's tight stomach gently.

Rory laughed. "Well I think you may be biased, Miss Gellar," She whispered, threading her fingers in Paris' long hair.

"Maybe. But I'm also right." She stood, pressing against Rory, and kissing her.

Rory smiled. "Now what do you say we get dressed, and then you can buy me dinner?"

"I like that plan. Except for the part where you put your shirt back on. I don't like that part."

"Well now, sexual encounters and public nakedness. You are full of surprises today aren't you?"

"Point taken." She bent down and picked up Rory's forgotten bra. "I think this is yours, Miss Gilmore."

Rory pouted. "Now I don't like this plan."

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AN: Yes yes – your sequel, my lovely reviewers! Finally, after many months and pleading on your part, it has arrived. Another story for me to forget about… lol. Enjoy, and please remember to keep me happy by pressing that lovely review button below… Happy Michelle means happy writing!