Geena (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2012-02-14 12:01 am
geena) wrote in rainbowfic2012-02-14 12:01 am
Alice Blue 7
Author: geena
Color: Alice Blue 7. begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop
Supplies and Styles: Brush (aubade), acrylic, chalk (this one)
Rating: R (for sexual situations)
Word Count: 854
Story: Polyfaceted (Index~Timeline); the title of this story is Celebration.
Summary: David and Angela celebrate the holiday in their own way.
Notes: This takes place in February of 2015. All bold denotes emphasis while all italics denote spoken Italian. This is for Kelly, for being so awesome.
***
She’s wearing a tight, pencil-cut skirt and an even tighter red blouse, and David can’t keep his eyes off of her.
“What?” Angela asks for the third time, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Is there something on me?” Pressing her hands against her breasts, she feigns an investigation of her chest. “Did I spill something?”
“Shut up.” It comes out as more of a growl than David intends. “Kids are asleep?”
“Dead to the world.”
“Good. Come here so I can fuck you so hard that you feel it into next week.”
“Sweet-talker.”
David grasps her wrist, pulling her toward him with one quick yank and guiding her onto his lap. “Here,” he asks in between deep, bruising kisses, “or upstairs?”
“Upstairs,” she gasps. “More room on the bed.”
He nips at her bottom lip before pushing her away, smacking her ass and pointing them both toward the stairs. “Then get your ass up there.” David follows Angela closely, pausing in the hallway and again in the stairwell for a few gropes and a bit of making out. By the time they finally get to the bedroom, his nerves are buzzing and his blood is boiling. He can hardly wait, which make his game all the sweeter. “Lay down,” he tells her, voice husky. “Spread-eagle, on the bed, face up. Don’t undress.”
“Bossy.” Angela grinds against him, tangling her hands in his hair. “And if I don’t?”
“Do it.”
She hesitates as though thinking this over before shrugging and climbing onto the bed. “Fine, suit yourself.”
For a long minute, David only watches her, drifting his eyes over her body from head to toe, lingering over certain sweet spots. He eventually licks his lips, striding toward her with purpose to fist her hair and jerk her head back so that he can slowly lick along the arch of her neck. “Fucking mine.”
“If that’s what gets you off,” she gets out.
David slides a hand down her chest, lavishing each blouse button with deliberate care. It takes a full five minutes to undo her top, his mouth attached to her skin the whole time.
“Fuck.” She rolls her hips upward, panting. “Gonna speed things up any time soon?”
“No.”
“Christ.”
Her skirt is next. Situating himself at the foot of the bed, David hovers over her legs just long enough to pull down the zipper with his teeth, fingers slipping under her waistband to drag the garment off of her. Quick kisses on her inner thighs send his heart hammering and he moves on to her stockings before he can get too caught up.
“Fucking hot as goddamn hell,” he groans, licking a spot just beneath her hip.
“Not the-- oh-- only one.”
Pressing his fingers against the crotch of her underwear, David mutters, “The things you fucking do to me, can’t even fucking think straight. Got me so hot I could burst just from watching you move around, move that ass in those tight clothes.” Angela’s breath starts to stagger as his hand speeds up its ministrations, still working her through the cotton material. “Close my eyes and I see you, see those tits straining against your shirt, see those long legs wrapped around my neck.”
Angela moans. “Fuck, yeah, fucking love your hands, fuck, don’t-- don’t stop--” Suddenly, she tenses, muscles taut, crying out wordlessly.
“Shit,” David says after a moment of watching her slowly come down. “Want you so fucking bad.”
“Yeah?” She’s breathless and shaking, though her tone is controlled. “Then come take it.”
He removes her underwear with care. Then comes her bra, deftly unfastened with experienced hands, until finally, gloriously, she’s spread out before him in complete nudity.
“Jesus,” he breathes out, unaware he’s switched from English to Italian. “So goddamn sexy.”
“Yours for the taking.”
That’s what sends him over the edge.
Ripping at his own fly, David shoves his clothes out of the way, tugs Angela toward him, and thrusts into her with little to no warning. It’s exquisite, it’s blindingly intense, and it’s so fucking good that all of David’s higher brain functions cease in the span of a second.
“Oh god.” A throaty sound escapes him. “Oh sweet fucking hell.”
Angela shouts, scraping her nails against his back. “Fucking right, Jesus, harder.”
“Stop-- stop bitching.” There’s no time for slow, gentle thrusts. David snaps his hips forward, slamming into her, bruising her hips with his fingertips. “Mother of god, so tight.”
It can’t last long, not when it’s this good, and in no time at all the both of them are spasming against each other, choked yells forcing their way out. It’s like being burned alive from the inside out, pleasure electrified along David’s spine.
For a few seconds, he can barely breathe.
“Fucking... hell.”
Angela flops onto the bedspread, brow glistening. “Yeah. Yeah, you said it. Happy Valentine’s.”
“I guess,” David dismisses, grinning from ear to ear. “Whatever.”
Between them, as though under their own direction, their hands seek each other out and link together.
***
geenaColor: Alice Blue 7. begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop
Supplies and Styles: Brush (aubade), acrylic, chalk (this one)
Rating: R (for sexual situations)
Word Count: 854
Story: Polyfaceted (Index~Timeline); the title of this story is Celebration.
Summary: David and Angela celebrate the holiday in their own way.
Notes: This takes place in February of 2015. All bold denotes emphasis while all italics denote spoken Italian. This is for Kelly, for being so awesome.
***
She’s wearing a tight, pencil-cut skirt and an even tighter red blouse, and David can’t keep his eyes off of her.
“What?” Angela asks for the third time, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Is there something on me?” Pressing her hands against her breasts, she feigns an investigation of her chest. “Did I spill something?”
“Shut up.” It comes out as more of a growl than David intends. “Kids are asleep?”
“Dead to the world.”
“Good. Come here so I can fuck you so hard that you feel it into next week.”
“Sweet-talker.”
David grasps her wrist, pulling her toward him with one quick yank and guiding her onto his lap. “Here,” he asks in between deep, bruising kisses, “or upstairs?”
“Upstairs,” she gasps. “More room on the bed.”
He nips at her bottom lip before pushing her away, smacking her ass and pointing them both toward the stairs. “Then get your ass up there.” David follows Angela closely, pausing in the hallway and again in the stairwell for a few gropes and a bit of making out. By the time they finally get to the bedroom, his nerves are buzzing and his blood is boiling. He can hardly wait, which make his game all the sweeter. “Lay down,” he tells her, voice husky. “Spread-eagle, on the bed, face up. Don’t undress.”
“Bossy.” Angela grinds against him, tangling her hands in his hair. “And if I don’t?”
“Do it.”
She hesitates as though thinking this over before shrugging and climbing onto the bed. “Fine, suit yourself.”
For a long minute, David only watches her, drifting his eyes over her body from head to toe, lingering over certain sweet spots. He eventually licks his lips, striding toward her with purpose to fist her hair and jerk her head back so that he can slowly lick along the arch of her neck. “Fucking mine.”
“If that’s what gets you off,” she gets out.
David slides a hand down her chest, lavishing each blouse button with deliberate care. It takes a full five minutes to undo her top, his mouth attached to her skin the whole time.
“Fuck.” She rolls her hips upward, panting. “Gonna speed things up any time soon?”
“No.”
“Christ.”
Her skirt is next. Situating himself at the foot of the bed, David hovers over her legs just long enough to pull down the zipper with his teeth, fingers slipping under her waistband to drag the garment off of her. Quick kisses on her inner thighs send his heart hammering and he moves on to her stockings before he can get too caught up.
“Fucking hot as goddamn hell,” he groans, licking a spot just beneath her hip.
“Not the-- oh-- only one.”
Pressing his fingers against the crotch of her underwear, David mutters, “The things you fucking do to me, can’t even fucking think straight. Got me so hot I could burst just from watching you move around, move that ass in those tight clothes.” Angela’s breath starts to stagger as his hand speeds up its ministrations, still working her through the cotton material. “Close my eyes and I see you, see those tits straining against your shirt, see those long legs wrapped around my neck.”
Angela moans. “Fuck, yeah, fucking love your hands, fuck, don’t-- don’t stop--” Suddenly, she tenses, muscles taut, crying out wordlessly.
“Shit,” David says after a moment of watching her slowly come down. “Want you so fucking bad.”
“Yeah?” She’s breathless and shaking, though her tone is controlled. “Then come take it.”
He removes her underwear with care. Then comes her bra, deftly unfastened with experienced hands, until finally, gloriously, she’s spread out before him in complete nudity.
“Jesus,” he breathes out, unaware he’s switched from English to Italian. “So goddamn sexy.”
“Yours for the taking.”
That’s what sends him over the edge.
Ripping at his own fly, David shoves his clothes out of the way, tugs Angela toward him, and thrusts into her with little to no warning. It’s exquisite, it’s blindingly intense, and it’s so fucking good that all of David’s higher brain functions cease in the span of a second.
“Oh god.” A throaty sound escapes him. “Oh sweet fucking hell.”
Angela shouts, scraping her nails against his back. “Fucking right, Jesus, harder.”
“Stop-- stop bitching.” There’s no time for slow, gentle thrusts. David snaps his hips forward, slamming into her, bruising her hips with his fingertips. “Mother of god, so tight.”
It can’t last long, not when it’s this good, and in no time at all the both of them are spasming against each other, choked yells forcing their way out. It’s like being burned alive from the inside out, pleasure electrified along David’s spine.
For a few seconds, he can barely breathe.
“Fucking... hell.”
Angela flops onto the bedspread, brow glistening. “Yeah. Yeah, you said it. Happy Valentine’s.”
“I guess,” David dismisses, grinning from ear to ear. “Whatever.”
Between them, as though under their own direction, their hands seek each other out and link together.
***
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And aww, the hand-holding at the end.
Thank you, and well done!
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SHHH, no one can know they are in love. *shifty eyes*
You're welcome. Thank you for being an organizational rockstar.
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Great job!
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Thank you!
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Thank you!
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Great work.
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Thank you!
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“Sweet-talker.”
*HEARTS* *Hearts everywhere*
And holy everything, that is some delicious sex. I love how it was paced- want, want, WANT. Like drumbeats.