the_gene_genie | OOM: Texas, 1888. Just outside Oakville

'That your way of tellin' me t'shut up an' get on with it?'

He laughs again, and moves his mouth to her other breast. But there's still an inexorable shift southwards, no longer looming over her, moving his body down, if not his mouth.

She chuckles.

"Maybe."

Every time he inches south she also shifts, anticipation and excitement unraveling in her belly. His attentions feel so good, but she can't take her mind off his destination. Last night's pleasure comes swimming back to her, lighting a hungry fire in her eyes.

'Bossy mare.'

But he's moving easily enough. If you ignore the fact he told her he doesn't do this often, you could almost describe him as eager.

But that doesn't stop him pausing, kissing a slow, wet line across the very base of her abdomen, still looking up at her with amusement.

'Admit you loved it las' night, an' I'll hurry up.'

He's determined to loosen her up around him, if only a little bit. They'll both have more fun that way.

She groans.

"I swear t'God, your ego's the biggest thing about you."

But she's laughing on that last syllable, brushing her leg against his side, hoping he'll take it in hand and open her up to him. She chews on her bottom lip, rationing her breath.

She answers him, slow and sultry.

"I enjoyed it every bit as much ... as you did."

Smirk.

He raises his eyebrows, and once, just once, slips lower to plant a soft kiss over her clitoris.

And then moves north again.

'Hardly, luv. I mean, I didn' mind doin' it, but it was you tryin' not to yell swear words at me.'

He does take her leg though, pushing it firmly to the side and holding it there. It's pretty clear that he's not going to back out of it, but he's got no problem making her work for it a bit.

She tamps down a moan, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

(Can't stop the way her hand curls in the sheets, though.)

"Guess you're gonna hafta work harder, then."

'Thought you wanted t'be discreet?'

Hell, he has no problem with her screaming whatever at him. So if that's the way she wants to play it, he's game.

He snorts one final, quiet laugh and lets his tongue take over, pushing through her folds to find what he wants. What she wants, obviously, if that hand in the sheet is anything to go by. And if he was slow and easy last night, this time he's pushing her a bit from from the start. Light flicks, yes; soft licking. But not as slow, not as tentative, because now he knows she likes it. And he's not willing to let her drive all the time.

Discreet, oh god.

"Y'should snuff out th'ligh — "

She's suddenly without the air to finish. Even if she had it, she wouldn't be able to think straight enough to remember what she was saying. Lordy Mercy, she can feel the blood pulsing in her cheeks almost as hot as it is in her low belly.

Her fingers stop teasing and groping, and go tight in his hair. She's quiet. But she's not exactly breathing, either.

He keeps on for a minute or two, until her fingers get a bit too tight. He pauses just a moment, and then pats her hand with a laugh.

'You'll have me bald if you keep that up.'

A long, rough lick, and he brings a finger up to tease around her entrance.

'An' I'm not puttin' the light out. I wanna see, later.'

He shuts up then. She tastes good, and just like last night, it's exciting, being the first bloke to do this to her. His tongue is fast on her, barely there at times, it's so light. But he counters that with light sucking with his lips, and the occasional slow pull with the flat of his tongue. No particular rhythm, no set speed. He's not trying to make her come yet. He just wants to get her fired up.

He's doing a good job of it. But she's more determined to be quiet than she was last night. They're in her room, and it's still early enough for there to be traffic downstairs, and in the hall. No easy excuses this time. But Jesus.

She mumbles an apology, or at least thinks she does. All of her concentration is bent on that mouth, on his fingers, on trying not to writhe, remembering not to yelp. Her hand drops to the bed, and just for a second she feels out of place, like there's something she should be doing to him. It's hard to hold that thought, though.

Her teeth sink into her lip. They'll be swollen and rosy by the time he's done with her.

Edited 2011-09-19 23:26 (UTC)

And he's not done with her yet.

One finger slips inside her, then two. A gentle, easy, in-and-out, no pressure. Just sensation, he hopes, to add to what he's doing with his mouth. And now he concentrates a bit harder, trying to ignore his own pulse between his legs, sucking on her clit like a baby at its mothers breast, eyes turned up to watch her face, dark with lust at the way she's trying to keep it all in. He just wants to see her break. Wants her to admit that they're good like this, and that she likes it. For her to know that it's alright to relax and enjoy herself.

She muffles another groan when he pushes inside her. She's aching and oversensitive, but after a few seconds it only lends itself to the swell of arousal crashing into her at steady intervals. Kate's stubborn, and it'll take a lot of doing to get her to break. But her body reacts.

She gasps, jerking at a spike of pleasure. Her hand leaves the bed, moving toward his hair again, but she pulls back. Her nails sink into her thigh instead, one steadying moment, and then she's reaching up touch her breast.

"Gene," she whispers.

The instant her hand touches her breast, his face crumples and there's a low groan from the back of his throat. She's just discovered one of his weaknesses, and he falters for a moment, struggling with just how much that turns him on.

When he finds his equilibrium, he ups the pressure with his fingers, just a bit. And his tongue resumes its flicking, fast and light, feathering over her to see if he can get her to say his name again.

She can feel that groan tickling every one of her sensitive nerve endings, and her jaw works, soundless but obviously aroused. She squeezes her breast, running her thumb over the taut nipple.

She arches into his attentions, silent approval for the change in speed and encouragement for more. She's beginning that erotic ascent, that slow burn, knowing it won't be long before she's hit the peak and has to come falling back down again.

Oh God, she's playing with it. Another groan, longer than before and he can't help but speed up, press harder and faster. He's remembering last night, the way she rode him so slow, those gorgeous tits in front of him the whole time, and now her hand is squeezing and rubbing and Jesus.

He fights to keep the pace even though, much as he'd like to give in and go all out. A proper build up should bring a better ending for her, for both of them. So he reigns himself in, but never, not even once, moves his gaze from her hand.

"Gene."

She sucks in a hard breath and holds it, head pressed into the mattress so hard that it makes her back arch. He has her right where he wants her, caught in the delicious trap of his tongue, and voice, and fingers, and oh god but she wants him to hit her just a little harder, a little faster, she's so very close and he's not letting her off...

"Please."

Her hand stays right where it is, desperate, groping, imagining it's him and at any moment she'll feel the thrust of his erection inside her.

And he does, because he can't not. She's groping herself and clearly on the edge, and she's not the only one thinking about getting inside her properly. He has to shut his eyes to focus, on curling his fingers just so, hitting her spot just after the hard flick on her clit, trying to keep it even for her but going faster, pushing harder, aching to see her let go. She's bloody gorgeous like this, all twisted up, and he wants more so he pushes, trying to give her what she wants, what they both want.

Can't stop groaning against her though. Doesn't want to stop. He's hot for her, and doesn't care if she knows it.

She doesn't care. It feels amazing, and knowing he wants her, that this is giving him pleasure too, only adds to everything else until finally the scales have toppled.

She grabs the sheets in a desperate fist and arches, slowly, as if the pressure building inside her is lifting her into the air. She breathes out, harsh and loud, and goes tight

and then it all bursts through her in a handful of violent seconds, pleasure whiting out the world and everything in it. She can't stay silent, though she tries. The sharp breath in she takes is laced with a pleasured cry, every inch of her rocking and trembling with release.

The instinct is to pull away, and breathe. But he doesn't. She goes so tight; how can he not see her all the way through it? So he keeps lapping at her, slower now, but trying to draw it out until she comes down, or pushes him away.

He never stops watching her. She can be a pain in the arse, but God, she's gorgeous.

After a few seconds the rocking of her hips slows down, becoming so gentle you might even think she's gone still. She's rolling against him, catching her breath, indulging in the ebbing pangs of ecstasy. Her hand slides from her breast, down her belly and back into his hair, stroking him like a pussycat.

When she's finally caught her breath, she tilts her chin to her chest so she can catch his eyes. She gives him a gentle tug.

She means to kiss the ever-loving hell out of him.

He lets her go when she starts to slow in earnest, leaning his head against her thigh so he can catch his breath. He gives his mouth a wipe, and then just waits for her with a bit of a grin on his face.

He needs no more encouragement than that tug, of course. He does stop en route to nuzzle at her breasts, and lay a gentle kiss on her throat. But then he's kissing her, nice and slow, rubbing gently against her as he does.

Result.

He should be able to feel her heart racing when he kisses her throat. It's pounding so loudly she's sure it's echoing in the room; but that doesn't deter her from kissing him in earnest, nice and easy, just like him, so she's sure not to lose her breath.

She moves against him, pressing firmly where he's rubbing up, moaning when she feels just how hard he is. That was amazing for her, and despite what he says it looks like it was all right for him as well.

She wraps her arms around him. They're heavy now, like lead weights; but she doesn't let go. She brings him in close to her, rubbing her body up against his. Her leg slides around his hip, making sure he's snug against her.

She definitely doesn't look like she hated it, that's for sure. And he loves the way she closes around him in increments; arms around him, body against him, leg over his hip. It's like being folded into something warm and welcoming, without all their usual bullshit. He could get used to this.

'Like this?' he murmurs, quiet against her lips.

'Or, you wan' to...like las' night?'

"Like this," she whispers, dragging her lips over his. Slow, light kisses.

She's breathing heavily, lingering in the heady afterglow. She'll let him take control for now, until she can right the world around her.

Edited 2011-09-20 01:47 (UTC)

''K.'

He's as careful as he can be, given how turned on he is right now. He slips his hand between them, lines up right, hissing quietly from the pressure of his hand around the sensitive head.

Just an inch or so, to start with. It's as excruciating for him as last night, immediately tight, but so warm and wet he can't help but love it.

'Better'n yesterday?'

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