quotethis_muses || June Prompt
I think Vickie was only talking about marriage so I'd wanna have sex with her. And then I did, and now she never talks to me, except to come back for more. And I always give in. I feel so used. >> Peter MacMannus (Down with Love)
[Follows THIS]
Ali shot awake in her bed, scrambling into a sitting position as she took a few moments to get her bearings. She slapped her hands over her mouth as she glanced down and realised that it hadn’t been a very fucking erotic and hot nightmare. Mark Campbell was lying there entangled in her purple sheets in all his naked glory with a satiated little smile on his lips, even if he was fast asleep.
She was tempted to shove him out of the bed with a firm kick up his arse.
“Oh… god…” she whimpered, staring at his blond head as if it would will him away with her determined mind power. Oops, she did it again, in-fucking-deed. Oh fuck, she was Britney Spears! “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Her first reaction was to grab the phone and call Izzy. But then the fear Izzy would think she was the gigantic idiotic wanker she clearly was prevented her from doing that immediately. It was the fucking Campbell charm! Not to mention the cocks they were packing. It wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be a strong independent woman. She wasn’t supposed to crumble the minute he put his tongue down her throat and his fingers-
“Fucking fuck!” she cursed again, pushing the covers roughly off her lap and leaping out of bed inelegantly, stumbling into the wall. Mark stirred in the bed at the noise, but only rolled over with a slight snore and slept on. “A penis is not going to ruin my life, no matter how good it is!” she hissed, storming out of the bedroom and ducking across the hall to slam herself into the bathroom. She ignored the little devil voice from her left shoulder that sounded strangely like James Campbell telling her a good penis already had ruined her life.
She braced herself on the sink and took in her appearance. ‘Thoroughly fucked’ didn’t even begin to cut it. Her hair was flopping in every direction imaginable. She had shag creases from the sheets all up her arms and across her chest, her throat and boobs were covered in love bites. Well, at least she knew she was taking a sick day tomorrow. If she went to work with this, she would never hear the end of it from any of her colleagues.
Her heart was pounding in her chest and her knuckles white from the sheer force of the grip she had. The little angel on her other shoulder (sounding this time like Iz) was dancing around with a chant of ‘You fucked Mark Campbell ag-ain!’ “Oh god, I fucked Mark Campbell,” she choked out right before she hunched over the sink and threw up. Yeah, that’s right, sprog - you kick in and make my life hell, too, she thought to herself with a pained moan. She was going nutty. She was having silent conversations with an imaginary angel and devil and now her unborn child. Mark Campbell had to hurt and this time, not in a good way.
[agentcampbell & isabelowens referenced with permission]
Words | 506
[Follows THIS]
Ali shot awake in her bed, scrambling into a sitting position as she took a few moments to get her bearings. She slapped her hands over her mouth as she glanced down and realised that it hadn’t been a very fucking erotic and hot nightmare. Mark Campbell was lying there entangled in her purple sheets in all his naked glory with a satiated little smile on his lips, even if he was fast asleep.
She was tempted to shove him out of the bed with a firm kick up his arse.
“Oh… god…” she whimpered, staring at his blond head as if it would will him away with her determined mind power. Oops, she did it again, in-fucking-deed. Oh fuck, she was Britney Spears! “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Her first reaction was to grab the phone and call Izzy. But then the fear Izzy would think she was the gigantic idiotic wanker she clearly was prevented her from doing that immediately. It was the fucking Campbell charm! Not to mention the cocks they were packing. It wasn’t fair. She was supposed to be a strong independent woman. She wasn’t supposed to crumble the minute he put his tongue down her throat and his fingers-
“Fucking fuck!” she cursed again, pushing the covers roughly off her lap and leaping out of bed inelegantly, stumbling into the wall. Mark stirred in the bed at the noise, but only rolled over with a slight snore and slept on. “A penis is not going to ruin my life, no matter how good it is!” she hissed, storming out of the bedroom and ducking across the hall to slam herself into the bathroom. She ignored the little devil voice from her left shoulder that sounded strangely like James Campbell telling her a good penis already had ruined her life.
She braced herself on the sink and took in her appearance. ‘Thoroughly fucked’ didn’t even begin to cut it. Her hair was flopping in every direction imaginable. She had shag creases from the sheets all up her arms and across her chest, her throat and boobs were covered in love bites. Well, at least she knew she was taking a sick day tomorrow. If she went to work with this, she would never hear the end of it from any of her colleagues.
Her heart was pounding in her chest and her knuckles white from the sheer force of the grip she had. The little angel on her other shoulder (sounding this time like Iz) was dancing around with a chant of ‘You fucked Mark Campbell ag-ain!’ “Oh god, I fucked Mark Campbell,” she choked out right before she hunched over the sink and threw up. Yeah, that’s right, sprog - you kick in and make my life hell, too, she thought to herself with a pained moan. She was going nutty. She was having silent conversations with an imaginary angel and devil and now her unborn child. Mark Campbell had to hurt and this time, not in a good way.
[agentcampbell & isabelowens referenced with permission]
Words | 506