Smutathon Entry 18: First Time Fumble (Unrevealed Pairing)
Title: First Time Fumble
Author Note: Pairing is up to you, but I know who this is.
Smut:
His hands hadn’t ventured this far before, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she’d been looking forward to this moment, proof that he really did like her, so she wriggled against him in the hope that her blouse would gape open just that little bit more.
He started to kiss her again, perhaps thinking that this would distract her, whilst he kept on exploring. She tried not to laugh because he was obviously trying not to show her how turned on he was, and yet she could feel his cock hardening when she pressed close. She wondered whether to let him know it was okay by giving him the beginnings of a hand job, but if she went too far, then he’d be finished far too soon.
She gasped when his fumbling fingers found her nipple; he paused, so she let out a slow moan, hoping he’d be persuaded that she’d capitulated and continue. He stopped and removed his hand, so she nuzzled his neck, finding that particular spot that she knew drove him crazy. He pulled away, and for a moment, she thought she’d pushed him too far, but then she felt his mouth on her breast, licking all around, sucking at the areola, his breath coming out in excited gasps.
She started to rub against him, opening her legs, making it seem almost accidental that her short skirt was now riding up to her hips, and all that was between them were her skimpy lace knickers and his Quidditch robes.
But his hands were still above waist level, fumbling with her bra, more intent on the starter than the main course. Biting back her frustration, she guided his hand to the front clasp and then sighed when he released her breasts. He gave a moan, burying his head in them and she stifled a giggle. This was obviously his first time doing anything and she loved the feeling of power she exercised over him. Whilst he was distracted, she lifted his robes, wrapped her legs around him, and shoved her hands down the back of his boxer shorts. He paused, momentarily, so she closed her eyes and moaned, then ground herself into him even more.
At last, he caught on, and one hand moved to her knickers, touching her through the lace, then stopping to wait for her reaction. Scared he’d take fright, she moved one hand to the front of his shorts and began to play. He lifted himself off her, closing his eyes and groaning as her fingers traced patterns on his cock. She arched herself into him, hoping he’d take the hint and start to tease her. She ached for his tongue, longed to feel his lips, but knew he wouldn’t think of that ... not this time.
With his hands, he finally pulled off his boxers, and then, avoiding her eyes, he tugged at her knickers. Kissing him, she counted nine seconds until he’d actually succeeded in pulling them off her and then waited. After failing three times to get inside her without assistance, he took his cock in one hand and tried again. She opened her legs wider, smiled encouragement and this time he succeeded. His thrusts were quick, excited, and over too soon as he collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of her, muttering something about how fantastic it was.
Not for me, she thought.
She waited for him to calm down, waited until his pulse had stopped racing, and then pushed him onto his back, hitching his robes up his body. He looked surprised, alarmed even, when she climbed on top of him. Along his semi-tumescent cock, she slid, bringing herself to slow and exquisite ecstasy. Her moans weren’t fake now, the girlish sighs she’d tempted him with earlier were real as the heat waved through her. She knew this was risky; he might push her away now he’d had his fun, embarrassed at her obvious sexual desire, but she was beyond caring. And then, as she worked her way to her shameful orgasm, she felt his hands squeezing her bum, caressing her thighs, exhorting her on as he became erect again.
“Bloody hell,” he said, when her moans turned to cries and shrieks. “Bloody, bloody hell. Go on, sweetheart. Go on.”
Author Note: Pairing is up to you, but I know who this is.
Smut:
His hands hadn’t ventured this far before, but she didn’t mind. In fact, she’d been looking forward to this moment, proof that he really did like her, so she wriggled against him in the hope that her blouse would gape open just that little bit more.
He started to kiss her again, perhaps thinking that this would distract her, whilst he kept on exploring. She tried not to laugh because he was obviously trying not to show her how turned on he was, and yet she could feel his cock hardening when she pressed close. She wondered whether to let him know it was okay by giving him the beginnings of a hand job, but if she went too far, then he’d be finished far too soon.
She gasped when his fumbling fingers found her nipple; he paused, so she let out a slow moan, hoping he’d be persuaded that she’d capitulated and continue. He stopped and removed his hand, so she nuzzled his neck, finding that particular spot that she knew drove him crazy. He pulled away, and for a moment, she thought she’d pushed him too far, but then she felt his mouth on her breast, licking all around, sucking at the areola, his breath coming out in excited gasps.
She started to rub against him, opening her legs, making it seem almost accidental that her short skirt was now riding up to her hips, and all that was between them were her skimpy lace knickers and his Quidditch robes.
But his hands were still above waist level, fumbling with her bra, more intent on the starter than the main course. Biting back her frustration, she guided his hand to the front clasp and then sighed when he released her breasts. He gave a moan, burying his head in them and she stifled a giggle. This was obviously his first time doing anything and she loved the feeling of power she exercised over him. Whilst he was distracted, she lifted his robes, wrapped her legs around him, and shoved her hands down the back of his boxer shorts. He paused, momentarily, so she closed her eyes and moaned, then ground herself into him even more.
At last, he caught on, and one hand moved to her knickers, touching her through the lace, then stopping to wait for her reaction. Scared he’d take fright, she moved one hand to the front of his shorts and began to play. He lifted himself off her, closing his eyes and groaning as her fingers traced patterns on his cock. She arched herself into him, hoping he’d take the hint and start to tease her. She ached for his tongue, longed to feel his lips, but knew he wouldn’t think of that ... not this time.
With his hands, he finally pulled off his boxers, and then, avoiding her eyes, he tugged at her knickers. Kissing him, she counted nine seconds until he’d actually succeeded in pulling them off her and then waited. After failing three times to get inside her without assistance, he took his cock in one hand and tried again. She opened her legs wider, smiled encouragement and this time he succeeded. His thrusts were quick, excited, and over too soon as he collapsed in a sweaty heap on top of her, muttering something about how fantastic it was.
Not for me, she thought.
She waited for him to calm down, waited until his pulse had stopped racing, and then pushed him onto his back, hitching his robes up his body. He looked surprised, alarmed even, when she climbed on top of him. Along his semi-tumescent cock, she slid, bringing herself to slow and exquisite ecstasy. Her moans weren’t fake now, the girlish sighs she’d tempted him with earlier were real as the heat waved through her. She knew this was risky; he might push her away now he’d had his fun, embarrassed at her obvious sexual desire, but she was beyond caring. And then, as she worked her way to her shameful orgasm, she felt his hands squeezing her bum, caressing her thighs, exhorting her on as he became erect again.
“Bloody hell,” he said, when her moans turned to cries and shrieks. “Bloody, bloody hell. Go on, sweetheart. Go on.”