iCarly Pornography Story: iKiss Carly

iCarly Pornography Story: iKiss Carly

It only takes one kiss to change their entire world. One kiss. One point of contact, Carly’s soft skin pressing against Sam’s chapped lips. Carly tastes like strawberries. Sam presses harder against the other girl, until Carly crashes back into the soft cushions of the couch and Sam ends up leaning over her, strands of long brown hair tangled around her fingers.
When they break apart, both of them are gasping. Sam’s eyes flare open, and she sees a blushing, flushing Carly staring back at her.
Her lips still burn, her body still tingles.
Fuck, I’m such an idiot! Why did I do that?
“Oh,” Carly says.
Thirty seconds ago, they were talking about ideas for iCarly and play-fighting and bickering and Carly looked so damn kissable in her pink nightie and boxer shorts, and goddamn it, Sam had to, freaking had to kiss her because . . .
“You kissed me.”
The shock obviously reduced Carly to stating the apparent.
Sam pulls back from Carly, scoots over for the other side of the couch. She stares straight at the TV, drawing in deep breaths, tries not to scream, run away, get out of here, goddamn it-!
“You . . . ” Carly hesitates. For a second, the only sound is Sam’s heavy breathing and their pounding hearts. The apartment hums with silence. It’s just the two of them, alone in the world Sam managed to screw up royally.
“I like you, okay?” Sam spits out. She’s replayed the words a million times over in her head. A billion. “I like you. Like-like.”
Carly closes her eyes and opens them. “You’re . . . lesbian?”
“Bi, I think.” Sam waits for the grossed-out expression, the shivers, for Carly to yell at her to leave.
“Um . . . ” Carly hesitates. “Me too.”
“What?” Sam stares at her. “You’re . . . wait . . . what?” Hope ignites and burns and smolders.
“Because . . . I, you know, never really told you either, but . . . I like you too, okay? And that kiss, wasn’t such, you know, a bad thing,” Carly stumbles over her words, shakes her head, then half-yells to Sam, “That kiss wasn’t a bad thing, okay?”
Then she grabs Sam by the shoulders and kisses her again.
Their second kiss is much more real. Harsh pants when they pull back for air, tongue sliding up against tongue, fingers twined together, bodies and breasts pressing. Sweaty and shaking, Sam manages to make it over to the apartment door to make sure it’s locked before Carly grabs her and shoves her up against the wall.
This is a side of Carly Sam likes. This assertive, I-know-what-the-hell-I-want Carly.
“Wanna pat me down, Officer Bunny?” Sam whispers hoarsely into Carly’s ear.
“Shut up,” Carly mutters and starts to attack Sam’s neck with her teeth. She bites and nibbles at the skin. Sam moans the entire time, shivers running over her flesh. When Carly finishes, she’s left an impressive hickey.
“Goddamn it, Shay,” Sam breathes.
“Yup,” she says with a grin. Then she leans forward and kisses Sam again.
Their hands explore each other’s bodies. Sam reaches up Carly’s shirt and into her bra. Her stomach tingles when she finds Carly’s round, small breasts. Her index finger trails over a nipple.
Carly yelps and attacks Sam in return, sends her hands sliding over Sam’s back, rubbing her tailbone down beyond her belt. Sam shivers and presses against Carly, instinctively grinding against Carly’s hip.
Carly tugs off Sam’s t-shirt, and Sam can hardly breath from surprise and shock and thrill. Carly’s skilled fingers undo Sam’s bra, and she lets it fall to the ground.
“You have, like, the best boobs ever,” Carly whispers as she takes them in her hands, which makes Sam laugh then moan when the brunette girl draws her lips and tongue over her right nipple, licking and teasing until Sam’s groaning and pushing and thrusting against Carly in a desperate attempt for more, more-!
“Shay . . . ” Sam whispers. “Take off your shirt.”
“Make me,” Carly says with a grin, then continues to move her mouth down past Sam’s breasts and over her belly button. She grabs Sam’s belt, yanks it off in one swift move, and slides the jeans down to her knees.
Of course I’d pick today to wear my South Park boxers.
Sam’s decided it’s all very well having Carly come onto her, Carly tell her what to do and Carly kiss her, but she wants to be in control.
She almost rips off Carly’s shirt and bra, half-orders and half-suggests Carly peel off her fucking hot skirt and look even fucking hotter naked.
“Give mama some service,” she breaths, which is fucked-up and hot in its own way.
And Carly does. She slides down Sam’s boxers and gets on her knees, naked on the wood floor. At first, Sam expects her to reach forward with her fingers, but then Carly leans her whole head forward and her tongue tastes then licks up into Sam and holy fuck oh my fucking god fuck yes fuck yes fuck yes Carly fucking Shay – !
Sam lets out a grown and grinds against Carly again.
Carly thrusts first one, then two fingers up into Sam, at the same time licking. She starts to pulse the fingers, in and out, in and out. They squish up into Sam, and her body takes Carly in eagerly.
She starts to feel hot and cold at the same time. Everything’s on fire, everything’s frozen. Shivers and pleasure wash up into her. Her eyes are open to half-slits. She twists her fingers with Carly’s hair and forces the brunette’s head against her body. Carly is more than happy to take the hint and move faster.
“Shay . . . oh . . . fuck yes . . . “
Carly’s fingers pump faster, curling up into Sam. She continues to eat at Sam, and Sam bucks again against her. She can’t help but jerk her hips to meet with Carly’s fingers pulsating fingers.
She can barely see anything, barely feel anything other than Carly. She holds back from the orgasm, savors the feeling as tension builds up inside her. Her entire body screams, fucking screams, and Carly pumps faster and faster until she’s slamming into Sam and . . .
Sam convulses. Pure thrill shoots through her. She rocks back and forth on Carly, wrapped up in the shivers and shocks blasting in every inch of her. She’s soaring, flying.
Carly pulls out of her, and Sam crashes to her knees, panting, gasping. She flops down on her back on the wood floor next to Carly. She closes her eyes. Her body feels jittery and nervous for a few seconds, before she relaxes into a warm peace.
“Fuck . . . ” she whispers. “I can’t believe . . . ah . . . “
Carly bends over her and kisses her on the lips. Sam barely has enough energy to kiss back, but her lips meet Carly’s and they make out for a few seconds.
Then Carly lies down on her side next to her, facing towards her. Sam turns her head and they lock gazes.
They both know they have to get up and get dressed and pretend to be normal for Spencer when he gets home, but for now they can share this look and these smiles and the smell of sex.
“What does this mean?” Carly asks, and her voice cracks. “Friends? Friends with benefits? Or-?”
“I think ‘dating’ is a pretty accurate description.” Sam nestles up against Carly. She wants to cry with happiness. Instead she just smiles.
“Out of the closet? What, we going to tell people what we just did? What are we-?”
“We’re going to do whatever we have to do, Shay.” Sam silences her with a kiss.

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