Geena (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2012-01-15 09:56 am
geena) wrote in rainbowfic2012-01-15 09:56 am
Entry tags:
Alice Blue 21
Author: Geena
Colors: Alice Blue 21. today isn't any other day, you know
Rating: NC-17 (for sex and one or two bad words)
Word Count: 689
Story: Polyfaceted (Index~Timeline); the title of this story is Teasing.
Summary: David and Angela enjoy a night alone together.
Notes: This is canon and takes place in December of 2008. It's a little PWP with some plot thrown in at the end.
***
Once the babies are in bed, they settle on the couch in the living room, lazily making out and groping one another. It isn’t until David’s hand slips under her shirt that Angela manages to pull away, smirking at him as she says, “Hang on, there’s something I want to try.”
He practically pouts when she climbs off of him, moving into the middle of the room. It’s surprisingly sexy, but she’s a woman on a mission now and will not be deterred. Reaching for the nearby stereo remote, she turns on something with a hypnotic beat and begins to gently sway, gyrating her hips in a way that’s sure to remind him of another, more intimate act.
“Jesus,” he breathes, eyes glued to her. Good.
Angela peels off her shirt first. She’s always been a pretty decent dancer and she puts this into practice, bending and moving around the room, keeping his interest as she shimmies out of her skirt. When his hand strays downward to palm himself through his jeans she stops, smacking his hand away with a firm, “None of that. You’re saving that for me.”
“Fuck.” The spike of arousal in his eyes betrays his usual protest of dominance, and she smiles to herself. “Fuck, you--”
“That’s right.” Her bra is next, leaving her free to play with her own breasts. David pants just slightly, so she turns her attention to her underwear, letting them drop to the floor. She smoothly steps away, moving toward him.
“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up the sides of her thighs and over her hips, pulling Angela closer. “Fucking... dizzying...”
Angela leans over to kiss him deeply before suddenly yanking on his hair to pull him away. “Go down on me and make it good, and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll think you’ve died and crossed over.”
David groans. “Fucking hell, Angela, you goddamn--”
“Do it.”
To her surprise, he does just that without another word. Angela straddles him, one knee on either side of his lap, and guides his head between her legs. One hand tangles itself in his hair and she tosses her head back, groaning as his tongue presses against her. He’s good at this, so good that it’s criminal how rarely it happens, but fuck if the wait isn’t more than worth it.
Her breath starts to stagger, hips shuddering as she grinds against his face. He knows just how to prod and flick against her clit and in no time, she’s crying out, tightening her hold on him and coming with blinding intensity. Angela doesn’t push him away until she’s shaking a second time, desperately struggling to catch her breath.
“Fuck,” he gasps, and she suddenly kisses him, tasting herself on his lips and moaning in a way that sends him thrusting against her. When the break apart, David reaches between them to work his zipper down, pleading, “Now, fucking need your cunt now, Jesus, you-- fuck!”
Angela pulls him free of his clothes, not bothering to undress him any further before sliding onto his cock with a self-satisfied exhale. It’s perfect, just like it always is, the way he fits inside her like no one ever has. She’s still a bit tender from before, but that only enhances things when she starts to fuck him in earnest, rising and falling in harsh, fast strokes.
“Fucking-- yeah, just like that, just-- oh, Jesus Christ, little-- little harder, just--” He lasts longer than she would have expected, considering how much time she’s spent working him up throughout the evening. When he does come, it’s with a strangled yell that sounds suspiciously like her name, not that either of them would ever admit it.
They sink against the couch after, carefully maintaining the physical contact. For five long minutes, they don’t speak, simply touching one another and enjoying the peace.
Angela eventually climbs off. Collapsing beside him, she smirks and asks, “Forget that I’m ovulating?”
David swears, loudly.
*Their third son, Ricky, is born September of 2009*
***
Colors: Alice Blue 21. today isn't any other day, you know
Rating: NC-17 (for sex and one or two bad words)
Word Count: 689
Story: Polyfaceted (Index~Timeline); the title of this story is Teasing.
Summary: David and Angela enjoy a night alone together.
Notes: This is canon and takes place in December of 2008. It's a little PWP with some plot thrown in at the end.
***
Once the babies are in bed, they settle on the couch in the living room, lazily making out and groping one another. It isn’t until David’s hand slips under her shirt that Angela manages to pull away, smirking at him as she says, “Hang on, there’s something I want to try.”
He practically pouts when she climbs off of him, moving into the middle of the room. It’s surprisingly sexy, but she’s a woman on a mission now and will not be deterred. Reaching for the nearby stereo remote, she turns on something with a hypnotic beat and begins to gently sway, gyrating her hips in a way that’s sure to remind him of another, more intimate act.
“Jesus,” he breathes, eyes glued to her. Good.
Angela peels off her shirt first. She’s always been a pretty decent dancer and she puts this into practice, bending and moving around the room, keeping his interest as she shimmies out of her skirt. When his hand strays downward to palm himself through his jeans she stops, smacking his hand away with a firm, “None of that. You’re saving that for me.”
“Fuck.” The spike of arousal in his eyes betrays his usual protest of dominance, and she smiles to herself. “Fuck, you--”
“That’s right.” Her bra is next, leaving her free to play with her own breasts. David pants just slightly, so she turns her attention to her underwear, letting them drop to the floor. She smoothly steps away, moving toward him.
“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up the sides of her thighs and over her hips, pulling Angela closer. “Fucking... dizzying...”
Angela leans over to kiss him deeply before suddenly yanking on his hair to pull him away. “Go down on me and make it good, and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll think you’ve died and crossed over.”
David groans. “Fucking hell, Angela, you goddamn--”
“Do it.”
To her surprise, he does just that without another word. Angela straddles him, one knee on either side of his lap, and guides his head between her legs. One hand tangles itself in his hair and she tosses her head back, groaning as his tongue presses against her. He’s good at this, so good that it’s criminal how rarely it happens, but fuck if the wait isn’t more than worth it.
Her breath starts to stagger, hips shuddering as she grinds against his face. He knows just how to prod and flick against her clit and in no time, she’s crying out, tightening her hold on him and coming with blinding intensity. Angela doesn’t push him away until she’s shaking a second time, desperately struggling to catch her breath.
“Fuck,” he gasps, and she suddenly kisses him, tasting herself on his lips and moaning in a way that sends him thrusting against her. When the break apart, David reaches between them to work his zipper down, pleading, “Now, fucking need your cunt now, Jesus, you-- fuck!”
Angela pulls him free of his clothes, not bothering to undress him any further before sliding onto his cock with a self-satisfied exhale. It’s perfect, just like it always is, the way he fits inside her like no one ever has. She’s still a bit tender from before, but that only enhances things when she starts to fuck him in earnest, rising and falling in harsh, fast strokes.
“Fucking-- yeah, just like that, just-- oh, Jesus Christ, little-- little harder, just--” He lasts longer than she would have expected, considering how much time she’s spent working him up throughout the evening. When he does come, it’s with a strangled yell that sounds suspiciously like her name, not that either of them would ever admit it.
They sink against the couch after, carefully maintaining the physical contact. For five long minutes, they don’t speak, simply touching one another and enjoying the peace.
Angela eventually climbs off. Collapsing beside him, she smirks and asks, “Forget that I’m ovulating?”
David swears, loudly.
*Their third son, Ricky, is born September of 2009*
***
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Awesome, thanks.