the_gene_genie | OOM: Texas, 1888. Just outside Oakville

Her head drops back, eyes slipping shut. They squeeze tight as he pushes into her, and she arches, letting out a controlled breath.

She opens her eyes slowly, nodding just slightly.

"A lil'."

It's still an uncomfortably tight fit, obvious in the strained tones of her voice. But it will get better, right? Her leg climbs up his hip, giving them both a little more room.

He bloody hopes it will. He dreams of one day not having to go so slow, of being able to have her the way he wants, without being so careful. But it's not her fault, and she clings to him so tight, he's not about to start complaining.

And he can tell it's still hurting her. But what can he do? Keep going slow, nudging into her little by little, gritting his teeth against the pressure, and the hot bands of pleasure clenching around his shaft every time one of them moves. Just wants to get to her g-spot. If it's going to get better, that'll be the place.

Her breath catches each time he nudges himself a little further inside her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck, exhaling shallow little puffs of air, licking the salt off his skin. He still tastes of soap and dirt.

"God Almighty."

He's just so long. Just when she thinks they've reached the limit, he presses in a little deeper. There has to be a way to make this more comfortable for them both; some different position. But she only knows the two.

He stops, eventually. He's barely moving in her now, but it's obviously not working for her. And he's a lot of things, but definitely not the type to hurt a woman for his own gratification. So he slows, and halts, breathing out hard.

'Let's try it sittin' up. Or from behind, if y'like, though I don' know if that'll be any easier.'

She lays her head back and catches her breath, searching out his dark eyes.

"Y'think it'll help?"

She has no idea, no preference either way. But she nods just slightly. She trusts him.

'Should do.'

Maybe. No guarantee. It's not the angle that's the problem, really, but neither of them can change their size, so they'll just have to make the best of it. So he slides out carefully, wincing at the pressure still, and moves past her to the head of the bed. He sticks a pillow against the wall and gets comfortable leaning on it, then crosses his legs loosely.

'C'mere.'

She carefully rolls onto her side, watching him. Spread out in all his glory. There's no keeping her eyes off his body like this, and she blushes when she catches herself staring at him.

She gets to her hands and knees and crawls her way up to him, slowly because she's feeling it deep in her muscles. But she doesn't dawdle. They'll make this work. And if it doesn't, they'll make something else work.

Neither one of them are very good at giving up.

Edited 2011-09-20 02:49 (UTC)

If he notices her staring, he doesn't seem to mind. He's too busy eyeing up her tits anyway.

'Tha's it. Jus'...'

He encourages her to straddle his lap, leaning in to kiss her in a way he hopes is reassuring. When it comes to sex, he has no intention of giving up, no. One hand closes over a breast, and he murmurs in appreciation, ushering her closer.

'Jus' like las' night. Slow as you like, only its easier for me to help like this.'

She nods gently, settling herself astride him. The kiss is reassuring, and she goes back in for another.

Just relax, Kate. Relax.

She moans quietly, not breaking from his lips. Her hands move between them, and before she guides him to her opening she spends a few seconds stroking him, recalling all the things that drove him crazy earlier. She doesn't want this to be disappointing for him. She wants to make him as excited as he makes her.

He moans quietly when her hands stroke him, and his hands curl around her backside, easing her forward, silent encouragement to sit down on him.

It'd be hard for this to be disappointing for him - unless he can't get her off. Then it would be, and a firm blow to his ego as well.

'Take your time. He's not' goin' anywhere.'

He hopes.

She snickers softly, tension easing from her shoulders.

"Not yet, anyway."

She hopes.

She draws in a deep breath, circling his corona with the pad of her finger. Grasping to the lingering satisfaction of her orgasm, she brings one hand to the brass headboard and eases down on him, running his head along her slit before pressing him to her opening. She doesn't break eye contact, almost level with him for once and needing to see the look in his gorgeous blue eyes.

'Don' you listen to her,' he mutters, in the direction of his cock.

Yes, he talks to his penis. Sometimes.

But not for long, this time. No danger of losing his edge when she plays with him like that; he's definitely got a weakness for the gentle touch. And as they're almost level, she'll be able to see the lust in his eyes when she eases down on him. Should certainly be able to feel the way his hands tighten, and hear the way he sucks his breath over his teeth.

There are so many things to tease him for. Every time she turns around, he's given her fresh ammunition. She'll save it for later this time, only because he's already shut up, and likely for the same reasons she's not speaking either.

There's a distinct femininity in the way her breath catches, in the little tremor, and gasp. This is a whole new way of doing things, and she finds already that she likes it. Having the control of riding him, while still being able to look in his eyes, feel his hands on her, touch her chest to his.

She takes him in as deep as last night and pauses. A wrinkle forms in her brow, and she allows her eyes to slip shut for a second. She hums, a quite mmm that sounds like she's taken a bite of something truly decadent.

He smiles breathlessly, and brings one hand up to caress her breast, dragging his thumb lightly over the nipple.

'Better?'

It's looking promising. And feeling even more so. He loves this position too, because it gives a great view of her chest, and can be varied to suit.

He leans in, turns his head so he can kiss her throat softly, and taste the sweat there. His turn to hum in appreciation, though he doesn't try and push her down further. She can take all the time she needs.

She moves her hips in a slow, circular motion, testing and savoring, adjusting. She nods, a quiet mm-hm falling from her lips before she reopens her eyes, and catches him just before he leans in to kiss her. She sighs, moving her hand to his shoulder, and carefully starts to rock.

He loses a moan as soon as she starts, muscles tensing through his shoulders. But he reminds himself to breathe easy, and is glad she already sorted him out once today, so that this is less desperate than it might have been. He can relax, let her play, let himself enjoy her body.

So he leans back, resting his head against the wall and watching her from under half-lowered lids. His hand remains at her breast, the other helping her keep steady, curled around the taut swell of her backside. The steady roll of pleasure washing through him can be seen in the sharp bobbing of his Adam's apple; when she clenches too hard his eyes close, and he can't swallow at all, holding his breath until a grunt escapes and frees him again.

It's still more passive than he generally likes, but when she's this tight, it doesn't matter. Any position's going to get him off, it's just a matter of holding off until she's had her fill. And anyway, she looks bloody gorgeous like this.

She's so careful at first, more steady than slow; grateful for the natural lubrication of her orgasm. Once they find a rhythm it's more about the penetration than the speed. Every time he pushes her limits she gasps, slows a bit, and has to find her bearings again.

It really doesn't take that long. Her hand slides over his knuckles, cupping the back of his hand the way he's cupping her breast. She holds onto the headboard, desperate to keep it from knocking against the wall as they move. And then she's free to speed up in increments.

She's still putting forth a lot more concentration than would likely make them both most comfortable. Concentrating on keeping the thrusts light; concentrating on keeping the rhythm; concentrating on making this good for him. However, she catches herself every now and then. She'll lean in, feather her lips over his, kissing him so gently it's barely there at all, leaving wet, warm prints behind her as she moves on to someplace new.

His eyes are more closed than open now, breathing in small, soft pants. She is so tight. She is so tight, and it doesn't matter how she moves, she's locking him in a velvet fist and squeezing the damn life out of him. It's almost painful, but in a really good way; any worse, and he'd fear for Sergeant Rock's ability to keep his concentration. But it's not that bad, adds a delicious layer of pain to the pleasure, and he's starting to tighten up, cinched a little tighter every time her lips touch him.

He's worried, though, that she isn't enjoying it as much as she could. He can feel the tension in her hand on his, in the clenching of the muscles of her arse.

'Relax, luv,' he murmurs, next time she kisses him, barely able to respond with the way the angle changes, and takes his breath away.

'Jus' relax. Or try leanin' back.'

Women like that, he knows. It hits them in the right place. Though he doesn't know how he'll cope with it if she tries.

"Ohh, sorry. Sorry, sorry."

She assumes he's complaining that she's squeezing him too tight. Not that she'd blame him. Her walls spasm now and then, setting off rockets of pleasure that are quickly snuffed by the tight twinge of pain.

She sits up straight, pulling in a few deep breaths. Her eyes are bluer than usual, sharp and bright even in this low light. She nods gently, keeping her eyes on his, and eases herself back. She presses the heels of her palms to his thighs, keeping with the rhythm.

Her teeth pull at her bottom lip, and once again her eyes are sliding shut as she moans — an oh baby lost somewhere in the sound.

'No no no, s'fine.

More than fine. And oh God, she's moaning. His eyes clamp shut, and he works his jaw, struggling not to move up into her. No way is he going to ruin this now by losing control and hurting her, no matter how much his body screams for it.

A hand slips over her leg and pauses, because the flush of her skin feels warm. It's nice to know he's got her worked up, but he needs more, needs to help her along. So his fingers seek out her clit, fingering it lightly to see how she likes it.

"Jesus, Gene."

She takes a sharp breath and holds it. If that isn't indication enough of her approval, the way her hands tighten on him and her head rolls back should give her away. Her hair tickles at her knuckles.

She's sensitive to him. Every time he pulls a reaction out of her she loses the rhythm of her hips, and it switches up her speed and angle.

He lets ous a tight laugh, more a huff of breath than anything.

'Hold still a minute.'

He's moving, but carefully, in case the slight change in body position pushes him deeper by accident. He's just leaning forward though, because with her leaning back like that, her tits look magnificent. He can't resist getting his mouth on them. So he flicks his tongue over a nipple, still working his fingers gently, and tries his hardest not to think about how good she looks.

She laughs breathlessly.

He had her worried there for a moment, but as soon as she sees him dipping toward her chest she feels all of her tension unwind. Ridiculous. She brings one hand around to cradle the back of his head, pulling her nails lightly down the nape of his neck. Mercy, he knows a woman's body.

"S'good."

Slowly, she starts to move again. Pressing into his touch as much as she can. Her nails continue down his neck, dragging up and down the length of his spine.

"I-I like that."

'Good.'

His lips pull at it gently, and OK, he might rock up into her slightly. But really, hardly at all. It's just that the tension is starting to kill him a bit, and his shoulders ache from holding it all in his muscles.

''cos I do too. You've got bloody lovely tits.'

She groans quietly.

"Where ever did y'learn t'speak t'women like that? S'like — oh — like poetry."

She smirks, and almost immediately dissolves into an expression of pain and pleasure.

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