lady_bols | Room 6620, Afternoon

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Room 6620, Afternoon

There's a knock at the door. Someone is politely, quietly knocking on her door. It can't be Gene then. He always uses his fist, even at 3am in the morning. She opens one eye, and realizes, she's not in the flat above Luigi's.

For one, Gene is behind her. And completely starkers, pressed against her from nape to knee, snoring quietly in her ear. A grin spreads across her face, and she stretches, not quite willing to leave the comfort of the bed yet.

'Just leave it there, we'll get it in a minute. Thanks.' She hopes whoever is out there can hear her voice, because she's not going to shout and wake him. She also makes a mental note to tip the rat very well when he brings dinner.

It's impossible to move much at all without waking him. So she gives him another moment, content just to enjoy the feel of lying in his arms.

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'I am not a tease,' she laughs. 'I make promises, and I keep them.'

Just to prove it, she takes him in hand, kneeling up just enough. Oh she'll tease him later, take him by inches, make him shudder and keen. But right now, she's very straightforward.

She arches her back, pressing into his hands, guiding him along her slit at the same, her lips parting as he slides home.

'Oh, well that's...'

...ohhhh, bloody hell, that's perfect. His shoulders push into the mattress, and his chest arches up off the bed as he groans. It's a long, high note of pleasure, and he only relaxes back down when he's got a handle on it.

'...all right, then. Long as you...keep 'em.'

She hisses, letting her weight settle on him, until she's flush against him. Her hands rest on his forearms, and she rocks against him, slowly, letting him get used to the sensation.

'Yeah?'

It's a wonder to be able to watch him like this. A wonder to feel this man letting her take control, to feel the trust in his hands and see it in his face.

'Don' worry. Never had you down as a...tease.'

He doesn't want to think about her being a tease. It'll drive him mental.

''least, not in-'

His mouth has gone dry. He's fondling her tits, and she's riding him. He has to say it to himself so he knows it's true. Just once, though. Matter at hand. He plants his feet flat, and pushes up to meet her.

'-the cruel way.'

'I thought you liked anticipation.'

She's thinking back to the way this encounter started, with him asking impertinent questions while she writhed shamelessly beneath him. It doesn't matter, though. She increases the pace to an easy give and take, never letting him rest for more than a heartbeat. She lifts herself up and sinks back down, taking all of his length in one long stroke.

'God, you feel good.'

'Do.'

Sometimes. Doesn't matter. Nothing matters, but that she keeps doing that. It's his turn to do some writhing, though there's nothing shameless about it. He's trying to stay still, and just give it back to her, but she's sodding beautiful and he can see everything, and she's all right with showing him.

'You're gorgeous,' he says, a simple statement for a simple fact, and one hand drops down to her hip. It grasps there to keep her steady as he matches her rhythm, and while she might find this 'easy', he's tensing up again already.

She grins at that, her eyes closing for a moment because it's too much to take. She focuses instead on the weight of his hand at her hip, covering it with her own.

When she opens her eyes again, she meets his gaze. A steady rhythm now, following all the subtle signs he's giving her, rocking in time, intent on giving him what he needs.

He is all she cares about right now. So many times she's fallen asleep and dreamed of doing this right here, and it's so much better than she ever imagined.

They find their groove, and he's not even going to attempt holding back. His eyes fall closed as the pleasure builds, and he focuses on the feeling every time she pushes down instead of trying to ignore it. As soon as he does, it spreads out along his nerves, suffusing his muscles with warmth, making his skin flush as they work. His breath starts coming in short pants, and he knows his chest is beginning to heave properly.

His other hand takes her hip too, pulling her down onto his rigid length and he can't help a quiet moan every now and again. And soon he's asking for more, an increase in pace, a tighter hold on her body.

He asks, and she answers, rising a little faster, falling a little harder, until she's breathing hard too. Her thighs flex, gripping his hips, keeping them aligned. Can't have things going awry now. This is too important.

Her hips flex, and there's a little swirl at the end of her stroke, because she can't help herself. There will be time to play later, she knows, so she does her level best to keep things simple, and solid.

The first time she swirls, there can be no denying the effect. His body twists underneath her, and he cries out quietly, strained and desperate. But he can't go anywhere; her knees have him trapped, focusing all the movement right where he needs it most. All he can do is thrust up into her, hard and fast, and she'll be able to tell the moment he loses control, because his chest contracts, he stops breathing and all coordination disappears.

'Ale...'

He cuts off, jerking into her for the last few strokes until he can't go any higher; the climax hits like a wave - a crash inside, and then the silent pull as she yanks everything out of him, his body rigid and curled under the pressure until he's left stranded with nothing left to give.

He flops back to the bed, hands dropping away because he hasn't the energy to hold on. There's nothing but the warm aftermath washing over him, and the weight of her keeping him grounded.

She follows him down, keeping him as close as she can without restricting his breath. Her mouth grazes his chest, painting soft kisses over his heart, and then along his collarbone, breathing in their musk and the sweat of his skin. It's all she can do to keep her hips still, but she manages, somehow. He's glorious like this, and she's content just to hold him until he comes back.

He just lies and breathes for what seems like ages, letting the bone-deep satisfaction seep through his muscles. He can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed which, after events of the last few days, is a glorious sensation.

'Well,' he says, eventually, licking his dry lips, 'reckon we made a pretty good start.'

She smiles against his skin, eyes closed, not yet ready or willing to give up her perch.

'Such high praise,' she purrs, nipping at the side of his neck. 'The real question is, was it good enough to go back for seconds?'

Maybe she's teasing. Maybe things are still tenuous enough between them that she has to ask, though she wouldn't ever admit that aloud.

'Bloody hell. Give me a few minutes.'

Daft mare.

And she can stay there as long as she likes, as far as he's concerned, though he doesn't have the energy to put his arms around her the way he should

His mock-indignation gets a giggle out of her, and yes, she's actually starting to feel relaxed. And it's a strange relief, to have the serious bit out of the way.

'I'll take that as a yes?' Another kiss, and she pushes herself back up to sitting, gazing down at him with a contented expression. 'What happened to that legendary twenty-two year old libido, hmm?'

Her hands rest on his sides, and she's acutely aware of where they're still joined. She might let him up in a moment or two. Maybe. If he's good.

His lips purse as he pretends to mull this over. Or maybe its just appreciation of her body.

'Any twenty-two year old lad tells you he can go constantly, without a break - he's a liar.'

He drags a hand up to rest on her leg.

'Now, if I was sixteen...'

Whole different story.

She's grinning, chewing on her lower lip, feeling like she's sixteen all over again, absolutely smitten with this man.

'I think you're having me on,' she muses, trailing her index finger down his mid-line. 'You have the body of a man in his late forties, at least. Which I might add, I find incredibly attractive.'

'Yeah, well-'

He pulls a rueful face, and swipes his free hand down his jaw,

'I didn't get a lot of say in it.'

Not that he's complaining, and there's nothing maudlin about the way he says it. Just pointing out a fact.

'An' I thought women were taught to not judge a book by its cover?'

'Mm, strange you should say that. That implies there's more to you than meets the eye. That there's a depth to you, hidden wonders beneath that cool exterior.'

She's still trailing her fingertips lightly over his skin, exploring the soft planes and curves.

He manages to snort, and look amused at the same time.

'Hang on - so you're saying you've fancied me for a while based only on what I look like?'

What.

That gets a proper belly laugh, which has the delicious side effect of clenching certain muscles internally, making her draw air over teeth.

'The fact that you're -- how would you put it -- easy on the eyes, certainly didn't hurt. But to hear you admit that there's more than meets the eye, that you're a complicated man who has complicated needs... I never thought I'd see the day.'

His mouth opens, then closes again. The opens again.

'...when did I admit all that!?'

Bloody hell. He's sure he would've remembered.

'I told you not to underestimate me, once. Never said anythin' about complicated.'

He's pretty sure he's the most simple man in the world, recent revelations notwithstanding. At least to other people's eyes.

She's still chuckling as she bends down to steal a kiss, using the moment to distract him from the embarrassing part of slipping apart from him. The kiss lingers as she settles beside him, giving her knees a rest.

'Don't worry, love. Your secret's safe with me.' One hand idly brushes through his hair, and when she looks in his eyes, maybe he can see just how much she wants to get lost in those not-at-all-complicated depths of his.

He cuts his eyes sideways at her, holds the look...then nods, and glances away. Good. He wouldn't want that being spread around.

'I'd say you were complicated an' all, but it goes without saying.'

She is, after all, female.

'Delicate mechanism, ay?' She props herself up on one arm beside him, leaning in to nibble at his jaw. It makes it easier to whisper a growl in his ear.

'Well, before you reach for your cigarettes, this delicate mechanism requires a little post-coital affection.'

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