latino_menace | OOM: Finally.

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OOM: Finally.

It has been a long month. A long, boring month of healing and don't touch and being forced to exercise some self-restraint. He's spiked his drinks, taken drugs and painkillers and lately, those pills that Fi got from bar. They seemed to do the trick but left a problem - if his body literally can't respond to desire, how will he know when it's fixed?

He's so bored of waiting. And everything looks practically normal. So after that conversation on the beach and the lazy, intimate day that followed he decided to risk it. If he wakes up hurting, fine, he'll give it a bit longer.

He wakes up...hurting. But not much, not much at all. It's the middle of the night, pitch black because there's no natural light on an island in the middle of the sea, no sound but the waves hitting the beach below them. He's drowsy and hasn't opened his eyes but then, he doesn't have to to know what roused him from sleep.

It aches. But he doesn't know if that's because of the injury or because he's so hard he could hammer nails with his cock. He does know that it doesn't hurt enough to stop him and without even thinking about it, he's turning, sliding a leg between Fiona's and kissing her neck, her jaw, collarbone, chest; small, wet, open-mouthed kisses that are as gentle as they are insistent.

'Fi.'

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'Yeah, you too.'

He's grinning as he lowers himself to kiss her, revelling in the way their bodies slide together, the way he's breathing hard again and that familiar warm afterglow starting to suffuse his muscles. He kisses her softly, then a little more firmly, before pulling out of her and sliding to one side.

'Christ, that feels good.'

She grins up at the ceiling, eyes closed, body tingling all over.

"Meant what I said," she says, still getting her breath back. Her hand reaches for him, landing in the crook of his thigh, fingertips slicking through the sweat and sex. "Better put the coffee on and get some water. Not letting you out of bed. All. Day. Long."

'Do I look like I'm complaining? If you hadn't suggested it, I would have.'

He's laughing, looking out of the window over the sea where the sun is just starting to rise above the water. It's going to be a long day, but a great one.

'How about you go make us a really good breakfast so I'll have lots of energy. I'll make coffee and fuck you over the counter, then we can come back to bed so I can make you sit on my face.'

Crude, perhaps. But he wants it, all of it, far too much to dress it up.

She's two steps ahead of him, mentally at least.

"Shower first. I want to lick you clean and then get you dirty again. Then breakfast, with a hard fuck on the counter, and back to bed." She rolls over to purr against his ear. "Where I can sit on your face and suck you at the same time."

His grin really couldn't get any wider and he turns his head to kiss her, soft as anything.

'You're on.'

He's up right away, holding out a hand to help her up. These are plans for the day he can really get along with.

She returns that kiss, humming quiet and low against his mouth. And then he's up and moving, taking her hand and tugging her to join him.

"Okay, okay, hold on," she laughs, untangling herself from the sheets. She lets him drag her through to the bath, grabbing a bottle of water from beside the door to the jacuzzi. Which makes her steps falter, and she just grins, pointing.

"And out there later?"

He spins and pins her to the wall, not gentle but not hard enough for her to bang her head or anything.

'Everywhere,' he breathes, against her mouth, before kissing her hard, pulling her against him so he can press his body to hers.

Edited 2010-05-11 12:38 (UTC)

The bottle of water falls from her fingers, instantly forgotten. His mouth tastes like fire, sweet and devastating. He's covering her, his hands roaming on her hips and back, hers winding around his neck, fingers weaving in his already tousled hair, dragging him down to her.

The sweet perpetual ache in her chest radiates out, a month's worth -- no, a year's worth of longing and hunger and passion singing in her blood. She kisses him back, letting him feel that in her touch, her knee rising along the outside of his thigh, a breathless moan in the back of her throat. The rest of the world could go up in flames today, she doesn't care. She's right where she wants to be.

He takes that leg and pulls it up, holds it there near his waist, kissing her hard and losing himself in the feel of her mouth. He keeps them there like that for a long time and then pulls back, smirking, mussed and happy.

'Shower. Come on.'

Her hands trail down to his jaw, and she nods, eyelids heavy with arousal. Her lips are swollen and ruddy from his kiss, and her nipples are hard again.

"Yeah, okay," she murmurs, her right hand sliding down to stroke his erection and then take him in firm grip. Her left pushes him away slightly, and she leads him by his cock into the bathroom.

...obviously, he follows. And seems perfectly happy about it too - for today, at least, he wants nothing more than to give his cock what it wants. And it wants Fiona touching it, stroking it, sucking it, surrounding it.

'Got me on a tight leash today,' he murmurs, sounding amused.

'Anyone would think you're planning on using me for your own pleasure.'

Fine with him.

She licks her lips, looking up at him, still stroking him. She's drowsy from the early wake up, her head still thick with afterglow, and right now, she just wants to touch him all over.

"Not letting you out of my sight today, caro," she purrs, backing towards the shower. She doesn't let him go as she turns the faucets on, and takes great pleasure in taking him in both hands, drawing him under the warm water.

She hasn't had her hands on this, her favourite part of his anatomy after his lips, in a month. She takes a seat on the bench, her gaze raking over his chest, back to his face, her hands sliding along his shaft in long, slow strokes.

"Got a problem with me using you for my own wicked ends?"

He looks down at his straining hardon, smirking into her eyes.

'Does it look like I have a problem with it?'

He leans down to kiss her, lips soft against hers.

'In fact, I think I'd be put out if you didn't, seeing as how it's been weeks since you were allowed to touch it.'

Her eyes drift closed as she leans into that kiss, tasting him and touching him at the same time. The water runs over his skin, and slicks the remains of the morning beneath her fingertips. She takes advantage, palms smoothing over his skin, no rush at all, just enjoying him.

"Feels more like years," she breathes.

'Tell me about it.'

He's happy to let her just touch. It feels so good, warm water and gentle hands, all the better for the slow pace.

'After today, you're going to want a year to recover.'

Or, like, half a day anyway.

She hums, grins up at him, tugs him a little closer. She doesn't even make any pretence of teasing him, just takes him over her lips, gentle open-mouthed kisses. Her mouth trails down to the base of him, fingers exploring freshly healed flesh. Remembering all the places he loves to be touched, all the places that make his breath hitch and his thigh muscle tense.

Her mouth pulls off him with a wet sound and she smirks up at him.

"Gonna hold you to that."

'Do.'

He closes hie eyes and turns his face up to the spray. It's a wonderfully disjointed feeling, water distracting him but his cock feeling every movement of that talented mouth.

'...take it easy. I don't want to come in here. I want you in the kitchen.'

She purrs, nodding around him, her eyes falling closed. She's still going to take her time and savour this. She loves this, loves the heft of him in her hands, loves the taste of his skin, the silken heat stretched tight over bone.

She takes just the crown between her lips, her tongue tracing an endless spiral around the very tip. Slow as the sunrise, she presses against him, lips tight, tongue keeping an even pressure, guiding him along the roof of her mouth. She won't make him come yet, but she knows how to take him right to the edge and hold him there.

Edited 2010-05-13 06:01 (UTC)

He lets out a long breath, his hand tucking into her hair loosely, keeping it away from her face so he doesn't miss a thing. There's not much he loves more than watching himself get sucked off.

'...fuck, you're so good at this.'

She knows just how to drive him crazy. Firm mouth, soft flicking tongue, all his hot spots. Slow and wet and with obvious pleasure - his balls tighten when he thinks about hos much she loves doing this, how wet it gets her.

'I'm going to take your pussy so hard.'

His eyes close and he swallows, concentrating on calm breathing.

'And then I'm going to eat it until you can't move. And then fuck it again.'

His hips are moving, pushing lightly into her mouth, in time with the thrusting he sees in his head.

She feels the tension in him increasing, and she slows down, moaning softly as he speaks. She looks up into his face, her green eyes dark and wide, watching his every breath, meeting those gentle thrust with a tight hand around the base of his cock.

She nuzzles against that hand in her hair, letting him go for a breath to brush a kiss against the inside of his wrist, not letting him go.

It can be serious and fun at the same time, can't it?

Hell yes it can. She gives him a few harder strokes, slow and strong, her hand barely able to close around the girth of him. She rises, trailing kisses along his stomach, diverting enough to catch one of his nipples between her lips and suckling less than gently. Telling him without words she's up to that challenge, and then some.

His breath catches in his throat at the feel of her hand torturing him; lets out a moan at the feel of her mouth. For a second, he grapples with himself about taking her right now but no, he wants to do this right.

'...come on. Clean up. Food.'

It comes out husky, dark with need. But he'll hold himself back and his hands drop away from her because he doesn't trust himself and he wants to make it last.

He pulls away from her and there's a disappointed little moan on her lips. But he's in charge today, and she's happy to let him call the shots.

That said, she stays close to him, breathing his breath, letting the water wash over her. Her hands smooth over her chest, down her hips, delving between her legs. An involuntary shudder goes through her as she touches herself.

He reaches for the shower gel and she stops him, two fingers on the back of his hand. "No soap. Just water." She wants him to taste only her.

He has to reach for the gel, her touching herself makes him groan and his cock is aching properly now.

'OK. If you like.'

He kisses her then, can't stop himself.

That kiss is like touching a spark to gasoline fumes. She meets him, pressing against him from shoulder to knee, her body lithe and slippery wet. Her hands twine around his neck, disappearing into his hair. She's breathing hard, nipping at his lips before taking it deep again, savage and tender in the same breath.

He groans again, in to her mouth, pressing his erection hard against her stomach and backing her to the wall. He's fast losing the will to hold back, though he really does want to; he can't stop his hands roaming all over her, just feeling her skin, keeping her held tight against him.

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