MMoM Day 11: "I'll Take It", Elizabeth/Peter/Neal, NC-17
Title: I'll Take It
Author:
coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Elizabeth/Peter/Neal (El/Self, Peter/Neal)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 565
Written for
mmom's day 11 and
elrhiarhodan's prompt: "P/E/N -- In the garden".
I watch from inside. They’re in the garden - dirty hands, big smiles. They’re sweating. Neal’s in his wife beater and my husband’s down to his bare chest. They’re laughing about something. I was going to bring them lemonade, but now I just want to watch. It’s like witnessing spring overcome the land after a long winter; they spent a lot of time at odds - to watch them together, enjoying each other, men, friends, new lovers, is astounding.
Peter is different with Neal than he is with me, and I can’t get enough of seeing the changes in him. I can’t get enough of Neal’s real smile - the way he melts under my husband’s hands. The way they play-fight. Like now. Neal tossing some dirt Peter’s way and Peter retaliating.
I watch the wrestling match that ensues, the smiles never leaving their faces, even as it changes, turns, as Peter strips the shirt off of Neal and Neal rolls under him willingly. I can’t hear or read what they’re saying to each other, but their sparkling eyes say it all.
The first kiss, they’re still laughing. They’re still smearing dirt. Dirt and sweat and laughing and muscles jumping. And then the dying of the laughter. The fast unbuttoning of flies. I love how they just can’t wait. I love how easy they are for each other. I watch them touching each other - owning, exploring, titillating, getting off - and it’s mesmerizing.
I sit in the armchair and slip my hand down my pants. Peter has yanked Neal’s jeans down around his thighs, and his own cock springs from his open fly. Peter holds Neal down and frots him. I watch the flex of my husband’s buttocks and my own hand speeds up. Neal bites him on the neck. Peter rolls them, Neal on top, and he slaps Neal’s ass. He slaps it again, playing with the bounce of it, and Neal responds, thrusting hard and fast, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Peter’s head. Peter is smiling at him like Neal is the funnest thing ever, slapping his ass repeatedly. And even as I’m about to come, I giggle.
Peter rolls them again and ruts. He turns all animal - furious humping, eyes rolling. He comes all over Neal, and now it’s dirt and sweat and come and I’m glad I’m not in the middle of it, only watching, and I’m almost there.
Peter takes Neal’s cock in his hand. He’s rough with it, watching Neal’s face as it happens, but when it does, Peter leans down and kisses him through it. In this way, he treats us the same. Watching Neal’s body arch and my husband’s tongue lapping into his mouth, I come - my clit jumping and my cunt clenching down hard.
When we’re all finished, I take my tray of lemonade out to them. Neal looks sheepish, like he’s done something bad. My husband looks extraordinarily proud. And thirsty.
“That was quite a show,” I tell them, winking at Neal so he knows it’s okay. He blushes and takes a glass.
Peter kisses me deep and slow. I feel my clit throb one last time.
Then he takes his glass and we all sit on the grass and drink and talk about the garden.
It’s not perfect like this all the time. But for now, it is. And I’ll take it.
Author:
coffeethyme4me
Pairing: Elizabeth/Peter/Neal (El/Self, Peter/Neal)
Rating: NC-17
Words: 565
Written for
mmom's day 11 and
elrhiarhodan's prompt: "P/E/N -- In the garden".
I watch from inside. They’re in the garden - dirty hands, big smiles. They’re sweating. Neal’s in his wife beater and my husband’s down to his bare chest. They’re laughing about something. I was going to bring them lemonade, but now I just want to watch. It’s like witnessing spring overcome the land after a long winter; they spent a lot of time at odds - to watch them together, enjoying each other, men, friends, new lovers, is astounding.
Peter is different with Neal than he is with me, and I can’t get enough of seeing the changes in him. I can’t get enough of Neal’s real smile - the way he melts under my husband’s hands. The way they play-fight. Like now. Neal tossing some dirt Peter’s way and Peter retaliating.
I watch the wrestling match that ensues, the smiles never leaving their faces, even as it changes, turns, as Peter strips the shirt off of Neal and Neal rolls under him willingly. I can’t hear or read what they’re saying to each other, but their sparkling eyes say it all.
The first kiss, they’re still laughing. They’re still smearing dirt. Dirt and sweat and laughing and muscles jumping. And then the dying of the laughter. The fast unbuttoning of flies. I love how they just can’t wait. I love how easy they are for each other. I watch them touching each other - owning, exploring, titillating, getting off - and it’s mesmerizing.
I sit in the armchair and slip my hand down my pants. Peter has yanked Neal’s jeans down around his thighs, and his own cock springs from his open fly. Peter holds Neal down and frots him. I watch the flex of my husband’s buttocks and my own hand speeds up. Neal bites him on the neck. Peter rolls them, Neal on top, and he slaps Neal’s ass. He slaps it again, playing with the bounce of it, and Neal responds, thrusting hard and fast, bracing himself with a hand on either side of Peter’s head. Peter is smiling at him like Neal is the funnest thing ever, slapping his ass repeatedly. And even as I’m about to come, I giggle.
Peter rolls them again and ruts. He turns all animal - furious humping, eyes rolling. He comes all over Neal, and now it’s dirt and sweat and come and I’m glad I’m not in the middle of it, only watching, and I’m almost there.
Peter takes Neal’s cock in his hand. He’s rough with it, watching Neal’s face as it happens, but when it does, Peter leans down and kisses him through it. In this way, he treats us the same. Watching Neal’s body arch and my husband’s tongue lapping into his mouth, I come - my clit jumping and my cunt clenching down hard.
When we’re all finished, I take my tray of lemonade out to them. Neal looks sheepish, like he’s done something bad. My husband looks extraordinarily proud. And thirsty.
“That was quite a show,” I tell them, winking at Neal so he knows it’s okay. He blushes and takes a glass.
Peter kisses me deep and slow. I feel my clit throb one last time.
Then he takes his glass and we all sit on the grass and drink and talk about the garden.
It’s not perfect like this all the time. But for now, it is. And I’ll take it.