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rainbowfic2013-01-29 11:13 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2013-01-29 11:13 pm
Paprika 4: This
Author: Kat
Title: This
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Paprika 4 (You know what I'm dreaming of.)
Supplies and Materials: Acrylic (rock), glitter (flame), novelty beads (Do nothing for as long as possible), fingerpainting (explicit porn), sculpture (of Boingy), reimaging (also Boingy).
Word Count: 2456
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Ivy and Gina and a strap-on.
Warnings: Porn. Sex-related cussing. More porn.
Notes: For Sex is Not the Enemy ficathon, this NSFW picture.
"Were you serious?" Gina asks one sunny morning, over coffee. It's Saturday, they have nothing much to do that day, and she's been thinking about Ivy recently, about what she looks like under her hands, coming so hard she arches off the bed.
"Hmm?" Ivy looks up from the paper, which she's been frowning at but may or may not have actually been reading. "Serious about what?"
"About trying a strap-on," Gina said.
Ah, now she has Ivy's attention. "Uh," Ivy says. "Well, yes, as a matter of fact I was. Why?"
Gina shrugs, and lifts her cup to her lips, takes a sip beofre she answers. "I thought we might try it this weekend. We could go down to that store on Seventh and see what they have."
"Let me get my coat," Ivy says, immediately, half-rising from her chair, and Gina laughs.
"I didn't mean now, you goose," she teases, and leans over to chuck Ivy's chin.
"Goose," Ivy mutters, and subsides back into her chair. "Who calls people gooses these days?" She picks up the paper and rattles it pointedly, which only makes Gina smile—she knows for sure now that Ivy's not reading it, just using it as a prop.
Which is somehow endearing.
God, she's so far gone for this woman.
"Geese," she says, "and English majors do. Or I do, anyway. You love it."
"Do not," Ivy says from behind the paper, but Gina can tell by the tone of her voice that she's smiling.
--
Gina makes Ivy wait. Pleasure is found first in anticipation—people can call her pretentious for quoting Flaubert if they want, but she can't help it if he's right. Besides, she likes watching Ivy squirm, likes catching the quick little glances Ivy flicks at her and then the door, like a kid eager for a promised outing.
So she makes her lover wait. She does the dishes, makes the bed, paints her nails, checks her email and responds to an author she's editing. Ivy grows more and more impatient, wriggling in her chair, not even pretending to read the book she's picked up.
When Gina finally has mercy on her and asks if they should go now, it's hilarious how quickly Ivy bounces out of her chair.
The store on Seventh has a pretty good selection. Ivy wrinkles her nose at the realistic ones, and the bright green jelly ones make her giggle, but there's a happy medium, a sort of flesh-toned dildo-esque one with straps that don't look too uncomfortable. The girl at the counter winks as she wraps it up, and calls "Have good sex!" after them as they leave, which makes Ivy dissolve into a fit of giggles and Gina shake her head, smiling.
"Firefly fans," she says, linking her arm through Ivy's as they stroll casually—and maybe just a bit faster than usual—back towards the subway. "I can't understand you people."
Ivy strikes a noble pose, free hand to her heart and chin lifted. "My people are strange and clever and funny and we are going to have good sex. I fail to see the problem."
Gina can't resist the light in Ivy's eyes, the bright happy mischief like sparkles, so she brushes her hand along Ivy's hairline and kisses her, deep and warm, in the middle of the street with their new sex toy caught between them and God and the world watching.
--
She makes Ivy wait some more after they get home.
It isn't as if it'll hurt anything; they need to wash the toy before it goes near anyone's vagina, and for once they have nothing to do that evening. Waiting won't kill Ivy, no matter what big-eyed looks she gives Gina or how many times she bends over suggestively.
Although Gina won't lie and say it does nothing for her. Ivy has a really cute ass.
Anyway, she wants Ivy to ask for it. She wants to know for sure that this is what she wants.
So she pretends to read a book, licks her lips and crosses her legs and sneaks glances at Ivy getting more and more impatient, until finally Ivy gets up and stalks over to her, pushes the book down, and gets up in her face.
"Gina," she says. "I love you. I really do. You are pretty much my dream of the perfect girlfriend come to life. You are all I ever wanted in this world, but I swear to god I will dump you if you don't quit teasing and fuck me."
Gina laughs, and tosses the book aside. "What took you so long?"
Ivy pulls Gina up off the couch and tight against her body. "I didn't realize you were waiting for me to ask," she says, undoing the button of Gina's jeans with one hand while the other twines itself in the hair at the base of Gina's skull.
"Tell is more like it," Gina says, and steps back just enough to pull off first Ivy's shirt and then her own. Ivy isn't wearing a bra—she doesn't, some days, so Gina isn't sure if that was done with intent—and her nipples are erect already, her breasts flushed. "You know I like it when you get bossy."
Ivy snorts, and fumbles at the clasp of Gina's bra while Gina wiggles her pants and underwear off. "You say bossy, I say assertive."
"Potato, potahto," Gina says, and pushes at the waistband of Ivy's pants. Ivy gets the hint and steps back to kick them off; Gina drops her bra down her arms and onto the floor and they're back together, drawn like magnets to be skin to skin. Ivy's skin is amazing, pale and freckled and so unbelievably soft beneath her breasts and inside her thighs, and Gina can't resist running her hands over all of it, everywhere she can reach.
Ivy sighs and leans into her, her hands stilling for just a moment at the small of Gina's back. "Fuck, you feel good," she says, and kisses the crook of Gina's neck. "I was about ready to literally jump you."
Gina laughs, and cups Ivy's ass like she's been wanting to for a while. "You're so easy," she teases, then plants a kiss on the tip of Ivy's nose.
"For you," Ivy replies, surprisingly serious, "always."
"Yeah?" For that she kisses Ivy for real, close-mouthed but hot and hard.
"Yeah," Ivy says, breathing it into her mouth, sliding her hands down Gina's arms. "I'm a sure thing. Just gotta wink at me and I'll do anything you want."
Gina shivers, and not just from Ivy's hands. "Then let me touch you," she says.
Ivy nods, and pulls them backwards until she can sprawl across the couch, one foot braced on the arm, one on the floor. She's so beautiful spread wide like that, her skin half-translucent, blue veins winding down her wrists, the thatch of red hair like fire. Her eyes are wide with desire, pupils blown black, breasts rising and falling in quick little pants, and it's all Gina can do not to fall on her and bring her off then and there.
There's a point to this. She has to remember that.
She goes down on her knees in front of Ivy, rests on hand atop her knee, and slips a finger into her, relishing the full-body shudder and moan it nets her. Her thumb against Ivy's clit produces a high-pitched whine; her finger crooked just there makes Ivy cry out and push up with her hips, begging with her whole body. If she was beautiful before she's breathtaking now, flushed with pleasure, slick and hot and wet and so, so perfect.
"Gina," Ivy says, suddenly, "gonna... gonna come..."
"Not yet," Gina says, and removes her hand, ignoring Ivy's moan of loss. "Not yet, love. You wait here." She rises, and goes to where they've left the strap-on.
It feels so odd, wearing it, the unaccustomed weight between her thighs and the nudge of the base against her clit. It's thick, thicker than most of their toys—it looked smaller in the box, and she touches it, worries for a moment that Ivy can't or won't take it. The straps around her waist and between her legs aren't uncomfortable, exactly, but they're new, and strange, and if it weren't for the look in Ivy's eyes right now she'd probably just take it off, pretend they never bought it. But Ivy is looking at her like the world's gone away, like nothing exists but her, and she never could resist that look.
She walks forward, intent on her girlfriend, and is two steps from the bed when Ivy's eyes drop, and she bursts into sudden laughter.
Gina props her hands on her hips. "What?" she demands. "You asked for this."
Ivy bits her lips, rocking back and forth, and gasps herself to a brief calm. "Do they always bounce like that?"
"I don't know," Gina says, and looks down, wiggles her hips a bit. It does bounce. "I've never seen a real one." Well, that's not quite true; her cousin Joseph was strikingly immodest as a boy. "Not erect, anyway."
Ivy giggles. "Good thing I'm not straight. I'd just sit there and play with it. Boingy boingy boingy..." She laughs again, bright and cheerful, her skin flushed pink with delight and all Gina wants to do is kiss her, so she crosses the space between them in one step and lays Ivy out on the couch, mouth hot and hard beneath hers.
It's not long before they're breathless again, wound tight in each other, moving warm in rhythm. Ivy's melting-hot and soft under her hands, slick and wet and hot, and she didn't need to worry about the thing's girth because it slides right in and Ivy's writhing, taking it deeper with every movement, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing she's ever seen, her in the strap-on and the strap-on in Ivy.
"Fuck," Ivy says, and Gina looks at her, sees her looking too, spreading her legs for a better view, and fuck, that's hotter. She pushes forward to meet Ivy's hips arching up, every muscle tight, and the dildo pushes back, nudges against her like Ivy's fingers. She gasps, and Ivy whimpers, wraps arms and legs around her and pulls her closer.
She can have this, and it still amazes her, sometimes, catches her off guard in the middle of lovemaking or bickering or even just watching Ivy wander around in the mornings, seeking coffee. Ivy is hers, and she is Ivy's; they are each other's, and she can have this any time she wants. She can have Ivy's mouth and hands and skin, soft as water at her breasts and the turn of her wrists. She can have her high-pitched gasps, the tilting motion of her hips, the way her skin smells like roses at the crook of her neck. She can have her spread out and pinned, her hands curling helplessly as the toy pushes into her, her eyes half-lidded and her mouth open in a silent mewl.
She can even have more.
Gina pulls back, grasps the toy at the base and eases it out of Ivy. Her lover's hips rise, trying to follow; she opens dazed eyes and begs with them. "What... where..."
"Roll over," Gina says, and Ivy obeys, then pushes herself to her knees as Gina kneels behind her. She wraps her arm around Ivy's waist and tugs. Ivy glances back, looking a little puzzled, but Gina isn't going to explain this, not yet, anyway, isn't even sure she can. It's just... she can have more.
It's something about Ivy right here and now, about the long pale line of her back, and the way she arches, pushing her hips back and her breasts out. It's the way she's just giving up, giving her whole body over to Gina, giving her whole self over to the moment. She always dives in headfirst and reckless, and here and now Gina can hold her up, can let her fall without a qualm, because she knows she can catch her, take her and hold her, all of her, forever.
She guides the dildo back in, rocks forward, and Ivy bucks, tips forward, her hair a sweat-damp curtain over her face. Gina brushes it back, tilts Ivy's head back until she can see her expression again, that heaven-lit gasp of ecstacy. The pressure against her clit isn't quite enough for her, but that's all right. She wants to concentrate, to see and remember this; Ivy lost beneath her, in her arms, gasping and crying out and begging, begging for her.
She could do this forever.
She might have, would have, but she only has a few minutes. Ivy cries out, reaches back fumblingly, grabs first her hip and then the strap of the toy, pulling it deeper and harder, almost sobbing. She's shaking now, her breasts heaving under Gina's hands, whimpering yes yes yes and so close so close. Gina could pull back, could make her wait, but she's made Ivy wait enough. She drops one hand to Ivy's clit, flicks a taut nipple with the other, and it can't be more than a minute later that Ivy screams and arches and comes, hard.
She hangs in Gina's arms for a moment, body limp and flushed. Gina's still hot and flushed and trembling, and she's thinking about saying something when Ivy wriggles forward and the dildo slips out of her.
"What..." Gina starts, but Ivy's turning around, pushing her back down against the couch, working at the buckles of the straps and slipping two fingers inside her, all at once.
Gina muffles a cry with her fist, tangles her fingers in Ivy's hair as Ivy throws the dildo on the floor and dives down on her, the heat of her mouth and the slide of her tongue a welcome shock after the stubborn nudge of the toy. She's so good at this, knows just where to kiss and lick and even bite, and Gina's vision is starting to waver. Ivy's saying something against her skin but there's a roaring in her ears, pleasure like electric shocks up and down her spine, and God but watching Ivy come apart like that must have wound her up more than she knew because it feels like no time at all before she's coming, hard and long, her eyes squeezed shut and her hand wound tight in Ivy's hair.
She pulls Ivy up to lie over her and they rest for a moment, entwined and trembling. She can have this.
"So we definitely have to do that again," Ivy mumbles finally, and Gina laughs.
Title: This
Story: In the Heart
Colors: Paprika 4 (You know what I'm dreaming of.)
Supplies and Materials: Acrylic (rock), glitter (flame), novelty beads (Do nothing for as long as possible), fingerpainting (explicit porn), sculpture (of Boingy), reimaging (also Boingy).
Word Count: 2456
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Ivy and Gina and a strap-on.
Warnings: Porn. Sex-related cussing. More porn.
Notes: For Sex is Not the Enemy ficathon, this NSFW picture.
"Were you serious?" Gina asks one sunny morning, over coffee. It's Saturday, they have nothing much to do that day, and she's been thinking about Ivy recently, about what she looks like under her hands, coming so hard she arches off the bed.
"Hmm?" Ivy looks up from the paper, which she's been frowning at but may or may not have actually been reading. "Serious about what?"
"About trying a strap-on," Gina said.
Ah, now she has Ivy's attention. "Uh," Ivy says. "Well, yes, as a matter of fact I was. Why?"
Gina shrugs, and lifts her cup to her lips, takes a sip beofre she answers. "I thought we might try it this weekend. We could go down to that store on Seventh and see what they have."
"Let me get my coat," Ivy says, immediately, half-rising from her chair, and Gina laughs.
"I didn't mean now, you goose," she teases, and leans over to chuck Ivy's chin.
"Goose," Ivy mutters, and subsides back into her chair. "Who calls people gooses these days?" She picks up the paper and rattles it pointedly, which only makes Gina smile—she knows for sure now that Ivy's not reading it, just using it as a prop.
Which is somehow endearing.
God, she's so far gone for this woman.
"Geese," she says, "and English majors do. Or I do, anyway. You love it."
"Do not," Ivy says from behind the paper, but Gina can tell by the tone of her voice that she's smiling.
--
Gina makes Ivy wait. Pleasure is found first in anticipation—people can call her pretentious for quoting Flaubert if they want, but she can't help it if he's right. Besides, she likes watching Ivy squirm, likes catching the quick little glances Ivy flicks at her and then the door, like a kid eager for a promised outing.
So she makes her lover wait. She does the dishes, makes the bed, paints her nails, checks her email and responds to an author she's editing. Ivy grows more and more impatient, wriggling in her chair, not even pretending to read the book she's picked up.
When Gina finally has mercy on her and asks if they should go now, it's hilarious how quickly Ivy bounces out of her chair.
The store on Seventh has a pretty good selection. Ivy wrinkles her nose at the realistic ones, and the bright green jelly ones make her giggle, but there's a happy medium, a sort of flesh-toned dildo-esque one with straps that don't look too uncomfortable. The girl at the counter winks as she wraps it up, and calls "Have good sex!" after them as they leave, which makes Ivy dissolve into a fit of giggles and Gina shake her head, smiling.
"Firefly fans," she says, linking her arm through Ivy's as they stroll casually—and maybe just a bit faster than usual—back towards the subway. "I can't understand you people."
Ivy strikes a noble pose, free hand to her heart and chin lifted. "My people are strange and clever and funny and we are going to have good sex. I fail to see the problem."
Gina can't resist the light in Ivy's eyes, the bright happy mischief like sparkles, so she brushes her hand along Ivy's hairline and kisses her, deep and warm, in the middle of the street with their new sex toy caught between them and God and the world watching.
--
She makes Ivy wait some more after they get home.
It isn't as if it'll hurt anything; they need to wash the toy before it goes near anyone's vagina, and for once they have nothing to do that evening. Waiting won't kill Ivy, no matter what big-eyed looks she gives Gina or how many times she bends over suggestively.
Although Gina won't lie and say it does nothing for her. Ivy has a really cute ass.
Anyway, she wants Ivy to ask for it. She wants to know for sure that this is what she wants.
So she pretends to read a book, licks her lips and crosses her legs and sneaks glances at Ivy getting more and more impatient, until finally Ivy gets up and stalks over to her, pushes the book down, and gets up in her face.
"Gina," she says. "I love you. I really do. You are pretty much my dream of the perfect girlfriend come to life. You are all I ever wanted in this world, but I swear to god I will dump you if you don't quit teasing and fuck me."
Gina laughs, and tosses the book aside. "What took you so long?"
Ivy pulls Gina up off the couch and tight against her body. "I didn't realize you were waiting for me to ask," she says, undoing the button of Gina's jeans with one hand while the other twines itself in the hair at the base of Gina's skull.
"Tell is more like it," Gina says, and steps back just enough to pull off first Ivy's shirt and then her own. Ivy isn't wearing a bra—she doesn't, some days, so Gina isn't sure if that was done with intent—and her nipples are erect already, her breasts flushed. "You know I like it when you get bossy."
Ivy snorts, and fumbles at the clasp of Gina's bra while Gina wiggles her pants and underwear off. "You say bossy, I say assertive."
"Potato, potahto," Gina says, and pushes at the waistband of Ivy's pants. Ivy gets the hint and steps back to kick them off; Gina drops her bra down her arms and onto the floor and they're back together, drawn like magnets to be skin to skin. Ivy's skin is amazing, pale and freckled and so unbelievably soft beneath her breasts and inside her thighs, and Gina can't resist running her hands over all of it, everywhere she can reach.
Ivy sighs and leans into her, her hands stilling for just a moment at the small of Gina's back. "Fuck, you feel good," she says, and kisses the crook of Gina's neck. "I was about ready to literally jump you."
Gina laughs, and cups Ivy's ass like she's been wanting to for a while. "You're so easy," she teases, then plants a kiss on the tip of Ivy's nose.
"For you," Ivy replies, surprisingly serious, "always."
"Yeah?" For that she kisses Ivy for real, close-mouthed but hot and hard.
"Yeah," Ivy says, breathing it into her mouth, sliding her hands down Gina's arms. "I'm a sure thing. Just gotta wink at me and I'll do anything you want."
Gina shivers, and not just from Ivy's hands. "Then let me touch you," she says.
Ivy nods, and pulls them backwards until she can sprawl across the couch, one foot braced on the arm, one on the floor. She's so beautiful spread wide like that, her skin half-translucent, blue veins winding down her wrists, the thatch of red hair like fire. Her eyes are wide with desire, pupils blown black, breasts rising and falling in quick little pants, and it's all Gina can do not to fall on her and bring her off then and there.
There's a point to this. She has to remember that.
She goes down on her knees in front of Ivy, rests on hand atop her knee, and slips a finger into her, relishing the full-body shudder and moan it nets her. Her thumb against Ivy's clit produces a high-pitched whine; her finger crooked just there makes Ivy cry out and push up with her hips, begging with her whole body. If she was beautiful before she's breathtaking now, flushed with pleasure, slick and hot and wet and so, so perfect.
"Gina," Ivy says, suddenly, "gonna... gonna come..."
"Not yet," Gina says, and removes her hand, ignoring Ivy's moan of loss. "Not yet, love. You wait here." She rises, and goes to where they've left the strap-on.
It feels so odd, wearing it, the unaccustomed weight between her thighs and the nudge of the base against her clit. It's thick, thicker than most of their toys—it looked smaller in the box, and she touches it, worries for a moment that Ivy can't or won't take it. The straps around her waist and between her legs aren't uncomfortable, exactly, but they're new, and strange, and if it weren't for the look in Ivy's eyes right now she'd probably just take it off, pretend they never bought it. But Ivy is looking at her like the world's gone away, like nothing exists but her, and she never could resist that look.
She walks forward, intent on her girlfriend, and is two steps from the bed when Ivy's eyes drop, and she bursts into sudden laughter.
Gina props her hands on her hips. "What?" she demands. "You asked for this."
Ivy bits her lips, rocking back and forth, and gasps herself to a brief calm. "Do they always bounce like that?"
"I don't know," Gina says, and looks down, wiggles her hips a bit. It does bounce. "I've never seen a real one." Well, that's not quite true; her cousin Joseph was strikingly immodest as a boy. "Not erect, anyway."
Ivy giggles. "Good thing I'm not straight. I'd just sit there and play with it. Boingy boingy boingy..." She laughs again, bright and cheerful, her skin flushed pink with delight and all Gina wants to do is kiss her, so she crosses the space between them in one step and lays Ivy out on the couch, mouth hot and hard beneath hers.
It's not long before they're breathless again, wound tight in each other, moving warm in rhythm. Ivy's melting-hot and soft under her hands, slick and wet and hot, and she didn't need to worry about the thing's girth because it slides right in and Ivy's writhing, taking it deeper with every movement, and fuck if it isn't the hottest thing she's ever seen, her in the strap-on and the strap-on in Ivy.
"Fuck," Ivy says, and Gina looks at her, sees her looking too, spreading her legs for a better view, and fuck, that's hotter. She pushes forward to meet Ivy's hips arching up, every muscle tight, and the dildo pushes back, nudges against her like Ivy's fingers. She gasps, and Ivy whimpers, wraps arms and legs around her and pulls her closer.
She can have this, and it still amazes her, sometimes, catches her off guard in the middle of lovemaking or bickering or even just watching Ivy wander around in the mornings, seeking coffee. Ivy is hers, and she is Ivy's; they are each other's, and she can have this any time she wants. She can have Ivy's mouth and hands and skin, soft as water at her breasts and the turn of her wrists. She can have her high-pitched gasps, the tilting motion of her hips, the way her skin smells like roses at the crook of her neck. She can have her spread out and pinned, her hands curling helplessly as the toy pushes into her, her eyes half-lidded and her mouth open in a silent mewl.
She can even have more.
Gina pulls back, grasps the toy at the base and eases it out of Ivy. Her lover's hips rise, trying to follow; she opens dazed eyes and begs with them. "What... where..."
"Roll over," Gina says, and Ivy obeys, then pushes herself to her knees as Gina kneels behind her. She wraps her arm around Ivy's waist and tugs. Ivy glances back, looking a little puzzled, but Gina isn't going to explain this, not yet, anyway, isn't even sure she can. It's just... she can have more.
It's something about Ivy right here and now, about the long pale line of her back, and the way she arches, pushing her hips back and her breasts out. It's the way she's just giving up, giving her whole body over to Gina, giving her whole self over to the moment. She always dives in headfirst and reckless, and here and now Gina can hold her up, can let her fall without a qualm, because she knows she can catch her, take her and hold her, all of her, forever.
She guides the dildo back in, rocks forward, and Ivy bucks, tips forward, her hair a sweat-damp curtain over her face. Gina brushes it back, tilts Ivy's head back until she can see her expression again, that heaven-lit gasp of ecstacy. The pressure against her clit isn't quite enough for her, but that's all right. She wants to concentrate, to see and remember this; Ivy lost beneath her, in her arms, gasping and crying out and begging, begging for her.
She could do this forever.
She might have, would have, but she only has a few minutes. Ivy cries out, reaches back fumblingly, grabs first her hip and then the strap of the toy, pulling it deeper and harder, almost sobbing. She's shaking now, her breasts heaving under Gina's hands, whimpering yes yes yes and so close so close. Gina could pull back, could make her wait, but she's made Ivy wait enough. She drops one hand to Ivy's clit, flicks a taut nipple with the other, and it can't be more than a minute later that Ivy screams and arches and comes, hard.
She hangs in Gina's arms for a moment, body limp and flushed. Gina's still hot and flushed and trembling, and she's thinking about saying something when Ivy wriggles forward and the dildo slips out of her.
"What..." Gina starts, but Ivy's turning around, pushing her back down against the couch, working at the buckles of the straps and slipping two fingers inside her, all at once.
Gina muffles a cry with her fist, tangles her fingers in Ivy's hair as Ivy throws the dildo on the floor and dives down on her, the heat of her mouth and the slide of her tongue a welcome shock after the stubborn nudge of the toy. She's so good at this, knows just where to kiss and lick and even bite, and Gina's vision is starting to waver. Ivy's saying something against her skin but there's a roaring in her ears, pleasure like electric shocks up and down her spine, and God but watching Ivy come apart like that must have wound her up more than she knew because it feels like no time at all before she's coming, hard and long, her eyes squeezed shut and her hand wound tight in Ivy's hair.
She pulls Ivy up to lie over her and they rest for a moment, entwined and trembling. She can have this.
"So we definitely have to do that again," Ivy mumbles finally, and Gina laughs.
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Thank you so much! I'm really pleased that so many people enjoyed this so much. :D Thanks!