I wrote Neo pr0n! :O
So, this is a little story that got wrote because onthenightroad is a dork and a hobo and wouldn't go back to bed after a scant 3 hours of sleep. But then she was a good girl and had an attack of common sense and went back to bed. So I promised her porn that had Abel topping Asta a lot.
Uh... this fic assumes Abel lies to her about... something, per a conversation we had. It's not important. I just needed somewhere to start. And this was written very quickly and... okay, got a cursory beta, just now.
BEHOLD!
"Don't lie to me, Abel." The Methuselah's amber eyes sparked with anger. "What, do you think I'm too stupid to know when you're not being truthful?"
"Astaaaaaa, it's not like that. I--"
"You're lying about something."
"Come on, we're still tova--"
"Don't lie to me and then try to call me that! You don't have the right. Tovarish is someone you trust. You don't lie to someone you trust. Now get the hell out of my way, lying Terran." She spat the word out as if it were a filthy curse and lowered her shoulder into his torso to shove him out of the way.
What happened next happened very quickly -- almost too quickly for Astheroshe to process, which was unusual in itself. Striking like a snake, the priest gripped her shoulders firmly, and she felt herself being pulled back and turned around, her breath leaving her as her back slammed against the wall. She felt her fangs extend and she glared up at the priest, a biting insult perched on her tongue. How dare he? How dare he manhandle her as if she were something common -- as if she were some Terran whore and not the Marchioness Kiev? But something in his eyes made her pause for a moment. No longer the soothing, calming blue she was familiar with, now his eyes seemed colder. At this distance, silver lashes made his eyes glitter unkindly. Were she any other creature, she might have regretted her words as well as her actions. But Asta was not any other creature; she was only herself.
"Get your hands off me, priest," she growled.
The line of Abel's jaw tightened as he shook his head slowly. "No. Astheroshe, you're going to listen to me."
" The hell I am!" She pushed hard against his chest, and while the gangly priest did stumble back a step or two, in no time at all he was on her again, but this time as her back came in contact with the wall, it was because the priest was pressed against her, sandwiching her body against the wall.
"Listen. To me," he said again, his voice lower now, nearly a growl. Her stomach flipped, and her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs. She could feel every inch of him against her, could feel something grow hard against her thigh. She arched an eyebrow at him.
"Are you going to lie about that too?"
"Asta."
And then, suddenly, his mouth was crushing against hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open until she responded in kind. His hands, which she'd always expected to be clumsy and fumbling, slid to her waist and down to her buttocks, coaxing her legs up until they were wrapped tightly around him. She gasped into his mouth, fingers tightening greedily in his hair, pulling him further into the kiss as her body arched against him, her dress crawling steadily upward.
Too soon, he pulled back, breaking the kiss with a smile too dark to be so comfortable on his lips, and brought one gloved hand to her mouth. Taking the tacit encouragement, she closed her teeth around the tip of one gloved finger, pulling until the garment slid off his hand. Then, that hand slid downward, questing between her thighs, stroking her until she trembled against him, until, rather than snarled insults, she was uttering murmured pleas against his mouth. When he slid into her, his cock pushing into that slick, wet warmth, she screamed, not his name, but tovarish, her voice breaking on the last syllable. Their movements were frantic, demanding, hungry, and soon Astheroshe shuddered and cried out again, a strangled, incoherent cry. Abel's hands tightened on her flesh, and soon he thrust hard into her, sealing his mouth over hers and coming with a ragged moan.
In the seconds that followed, their lust-drunk haze dissipated, and the slowly disentangled themselves from each other. They stood there, still pressed against each other, but somehow further away than ever.
"Lie to me again, Abel," she said quietly, "and I won't let you get close enough to pull a stunt like that again, never mind let you try and distract me with it."
Uh... this fic assumes Abel lies to her about... something, per a conversation we had. It's not important. I just needed somewhere to start. And this was written very quickly and... okay, got a cursory beta, just now.
BEHOLD!
"Don't lie to me, Abel." The Methuselah's amber eyes sparked with anger. "What, do you think I'm too stupid to know when you're not being truthful?"
"Astaaaaaa, it's not like that. I--"
"You're lying about something."
"Come on, we're still tova--"
"Don't lie to me and then try to call me that! You don't have the right. Tovarish is someone you trust. You don't lie to someone you trust. Now get the hell out of my way, lying Terran." She spat the word out as if it were a filthy curse and lowered her shoulder into his torso to shove him out of the way.
What happened next happened very quickly -- almost too quickly for Astheroshe to process, which was unusual in itself. Striking like a snake, the priest gripped her shoulders firmly, and she felt herself being pulled back and turned around, her breath leaving her as her back slammed against the wall. She felt her fangs extend and she glared up at the priest, a biting insult perched on her tongue. How dare he? How dare he manhandle her as if she were something common -- as if she were some Terran whore and not the Marchioness Kiev? But something in his eyes made her pause for a moment. No longer the soothing, calming blue she was familiar with, now his eyes seemed colder. At this distance, silver lashes made his eyes glitter unkindly. Were she any other creature, she might have regretted her words as well as her actions. But Asta was not any other creature; she was only herself.
"Get your hands off me, priest," she growled.
The line of Abel's jaw tightened as he shook his head slowly. "No. Astheroshe, you're going to listen to me."
" The hell I am!" She pushed hard against his chest, and while the gangly priest did stumble back a step or two, in no time at all he was on her again, but this time as her back came in contact with the wall, it was because the priest was pressed against her, sandwiching her body against the wall.
"Listen. To me," he said again, his voice lower now, nearly a growl. Her stomach flipped, and her heart beat a frantic tattoo against her ribs. She could feel every inch of him against her, could feel something grow hard against her thigh. She arched an eyebrow at him.
"Are you going to lie about that too?"
"Asta."
And then, suddenly, his mouth was crushing against hers, his tongue forcing her mouth open until she responded in kind. His hands, which she'd always expected to be clumsy and fumbling, slid to her waist and down to her buttocks, coaxing her legs up until they were wrapped tightly around him. She gasped into his mouth, fingers tightening greedily in his hair, pulling him further into the kiss as her body arched against him, her dress crawling steadily upward.
Too soon, he pulled back, breaking the kiss with a smile too dark to be so comfortable on his lips, and brought one gloved hand to her mouth. Taking the tacit encouragement, she closed her teeth around the tip of one gloved finger, pulling until the garment slid off his hand. Then, that hand slid downward, questing between her thighs, stroking her until she trembled against him, until, rather than snarled insults, she was uttering murmured pleas against his mouth. When he slid into her, his cock pushing into that slick, wet warmth, she screamed, not his name, but tovarish, her voice breaking on the last syllable. Their movements were frantic, demanding, hungry, and soon Astheroshe shuddered and cried out again, a strangled, incoherent cry. Abel's hands tightened on her flesh, and soon he thrust hard into her, sealing his mouth over hers and coming with a ragged moan.
In the seconds that followed, their lust-drunk haze dissipated, and the slowly disentangled themselves from each other. They stood there, still pressed against each other, but somehow further away than ever.
"Lie to me again, Abel," she said quietly, "and I won't let you get close enough to pull a stunt like that again, never mind let you try and distract me with it."