Re: Tangled: Flynn and Rapunzel - Soused (Part 2)jmetropolisMarch 23 2013, 16:18:57 UTC
Soused - Part 2
He had thought that maybe he was going about this the wrong way and rather than unintentionally intimidating his inexperienced princess with his natural endowments, he would help her relax the only other way he knew how, with his practiced hands and his overattentive mouth. It hadn't taken long for her to turn into a gelatinous pile of shivering limbs under his skilled touch, mewling his name as she was hit with wave after wave of radiating warmth. He hadn't earned his reputation with the ladies for nothing.
Still, when it came time for the act itself, she tensed up again. He was as gentle as he could possibly be, but there was no way around this painful right of passage. Her body needed to adjust and to accommodate him and there was only one way to do that.
He took no pleasure in hurting her on their wedding night, but soon practice lead to blissful perfection in those feverish first few months of their nuptials.
Still, it wasn't until they had done this quite a few times, gotten to know each other's preferences and found their own rhythm that it happened. He felt her blindly paw the mattress between them afterwards.
"Eugene," she said, her voice having grown small and timid.
"Hmm?" He was so spent, he could hardly for words as he scooped her in his warm arms and flipped both of them over so that she was now draped over his firm chest.
"The bed's wet," she said quietly, gave him an embarrassed wince before trying to hide her face in his collarbone.
"So?" He said nonchalantly as if she'd reported to him that it was almost dawn and that meant the sun would come up soon.
"No, what I mean is . . . I think I wet the bed," she explained, still hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry," she added.
Eugene knew what she had done. He'd been there, he'd felt it. It had triggered his own release. He had also been with enough women to recognize it for what it was and to know that this was something some women were able to do on occasion. It wasn't something you called them out on or demanded they repeat on cue to stroke a fragile male ego. He wasn't even going to say anything about it to her in case it embarrassed her.
He wedged a hand under either side of her axillae and pried her off of him so he could look at her, although he didn't need to see her to know that the color on her face rivaled Pascal's when the frog would catch them kissing and turn red.
The sun's rays were starting to creep over the horizon and there was enough light coming in through the large french doors that led to their balcony, that he could make out the features of her beautiful face.
"Rapunzel," he tried searching her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him, "You didn't wet the bed. That's not what happened. You had a different kind of climax, that's all."
When he told her this, he noticed her eyes trailing down to the offending spot.
"I do it every time we're together and you don't freak out about it," he reminded her, scrunching his neck and tilting his head trying to get into her line of sight.
Re: Tangled: Flynn and Rapunzel - Soused (Part 3)jmetropolisMarch 23 2013, 16:21:47 UTC
Soused - Part 3
Eugene smiled as he recalled the moment she was referring to. It had been morning by the time they had finished and he had sat her on the edge of the bed and had gone to retrieve a damp washcloth from their bathroom. When he had returned he crouched down between the slender legs that were hanging over the edge of the bed, resting he knees on the floor, and gently began wiping away the remnants of the night before. As he did so, he had placed not so innocent kisses on her inner thighs. She had moaned softly and the sound made his body ache for another go, but he knew she was sore and there was no way he was going to put her through that again before she'd had a chance to recover.
She had suddenly looked down at his ministrations with pleasured, half lidded eyes, when he heard her gasp. The sound had made him jerk back and had caused his stomach to dropped. He had thought he'd brushed over a really tender spot and unintentionally hurt her. "Wh-, what is that?" He had heard her exclaim when she had noticed that the remnants of her innocence were not the only thing he'd been wiping away from her with the washcloth. He had realized then that perhaps the queen's premarital chat with Rapunzel had omitted some very important parts or maybe she had described the process demurely, in terms so abstract that Rapunzel had failed to grasp the concept. He had explained to her then, the mechanics of his own release in terms that were much more hands-on and concrete. He could see now that he needed to explain this corollary response.
"Some women do it too, sometimes," he told her as he pushed himself up, putting both him and her into a sitting position and she wrapped her slender legs around his waist. His large hands were still under her arms and his thick fingers were splayed over her shoulder blades supporting her.
She scrunched up her nose in a gesture that told him she wasn't entirely happy with this bit of news and she furrowed her delicate brows like she was deciding whether this was one secret society she wanted a membership to.
"It doesn't bother me," he added quickly. "In fact, I think it's kinda hot," he admitted.
"You do?" She asked incredulously.
"Yeah, I find every time you let go incredibly hot," he confessed. It wasn't a big secret. He thought it was pretty obvious that he loved when she would fall apart in his arms.
"Even this time?"
"Yeah." Especially this time, he thought. He didn't want to broadcast this fact to her because he didn't want her to feel pressured to do this every time. He wanted her to relax and focus on how good it felt when they were together and not worry about whether it would happen or not happen again.
"But it was so . . . messy this time," she protested.
"It's always sticky and messy," he reminded her, threading one arm through the space under her arm, so that he could free up his other hand and tuck a loose strand of short, chocolate locks behind her her right ear.
"Usually, it's mostly my mess and this time you . . . added to it. It doesn't bother me," he assured her.
"Was it unpleasant for you?" He asked, knowing the answer full well, but trying to drive the point home for her.
She shook her head.
"Did you still feel amazing?"
She gave him a timid grin at first, but then nodded enthusiastically. The gesture made him chuckle. It didn't matter that they were married, that she was sitting on top of him, and that there wasn't a scrap of fabric between then, she still managed to retain a bit of shyness around him when they talked about stuff like this.
"Well then, that's all I care about," he told her.
". . . But what about the wet spot?" She asked, biting her lower lip.
"It'll dry before the chambermaids come in to change the sheets. I'm not worried about it."
Re: Tangled: Flynn and Rapunzel - Soused (Part 4) FinaljmetropolisMarch 23 2013, 16:23:21 UTC
Soused - Part 4 (Final)
He scooted both of them over on their enormous four-poster bed so that they were no longer on top of the same damp spot. "There. Problem solved," he told her as he laid both of them back down on the side of the bed that hadn't been warmed by the body heat they had generated.
She shivered as she pushed her body closer to his and he ran his hands on both sides of her, trying to warm her up.
Running his calloused fingers over her soft skin was causing his own body to react and he suspected it was having the same effect on hers because she lifted her head and captured his lips. She kissed him hard, with an urgency he had been hoping to work his way up to, but hadn't expected quite yet. She ran her lithe fingers through his thick hair and moaned into his mouth so that the room and the outside world and everything that wasn't him and her faded into the background. Soon they were too preoccupied to worry about unexpected wet spots and impromptu anatomy lessons.
He had thought that maybe he was going about this the wrong way and rather than unintentionally intimidating his inexperienced princess with his natural endowments, he would help her relax the only other way he knew how, with his practiced hands and his overattentive mouth. It hadn't taken long for her to turn into a gelatinous pile of shivering limbs under his skilled touch, mewling his name as she was hit with wave after wave of radiating warmth. He hadn't earned his reputation with the ladies for nothing.
Still, when it came time for the act itself, she tensed up again. He was as gentle as he could possibly be, but there was no way around this painful right of passage. Her body needed to adjust and to accommodate him and there was only one way to do that.
He took no pleasure in hurting her on their wedding night, but soon practice lead to blissful perfection in those feverish first few months of their nuptials.
Still, it wasn't until they had done this quite a few times, gotten to know each other's preferences and found their own rhythm that it happened. He felt her blindly paw the mattress between them afterwards.
"Eugene," she said, her voice having grown small and timid.
"Hmm?" He was so spent, he could hardly for words as he scooped her in his warm arms and flipped both of them over so that she was now draped over his firm chest.
"The bed's wet," she said quietly, gave him an embarrassed wince before trying to hide her face in his collarbone.
"So?" He said nonchalantly as if she'd reported to him that it was almost dawn and that meant the sun would come up soon.
"No, what I mean is . . . I think I wet the bed," she explained, still hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry," she added.
Eugene knew what she had done. He'd been there, he'd felt it. It had triggered his own release. He had also been with enough women to recognize it for what it was and to know that this was something some women were able to do on occasion. It wasn't something you called them out on or demanded they repeat on cue to stroke a fragile male ego. He wasn't even going to say anything about it to her in case it embarrassed her.
He wedged a hand under either side of her axillae and pried her off of him so he could look at her, although he didn't need to see her to know that the color on her face rivaled Pascal's when the frog would catch them kissing and turn red.
The sun's rays were starting to creep over the horizon and there was enough light coming in through the large french doors that led to their balcony, that he could make out the features of her beautiful face.
"Rapunzel," he tried searching her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him, "You didn't wet the bed. That's not what happened. You had a different kind of climax, that's all."
When he told her this, he noticed her eyes trailing down to the offending spot.
"I do it every time we're together and you don't freak out about it," he reminded her, scrunching his neck and tilting his head trying to get into her line of sight.
"I freaked out the first time," she corrected.
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Eugene smiled as he recalled the moment she was referring to. It had been morning by the time they had finished and he had sat her on the edge of the bed and had gone to retrieve a damp washcloth from their bathroom. When he had returned he crouched down between the slender legs that were hanging over the edge of the bed, resting he knees on the floor, and gently began wiping away the remnants of the night before. As he did so, he had placed not so innocent kisses on her inner thighs. She had moaned softly and the sound made his body ache for another go, but he knew she was sore and there was no way he was going to put her through that again before she'd had a chance to recover.
She had suddenly looked down at his ministrations with pleasured, half lidded eyes, when he heard her gasp. The sound had made him jerk back and had caused his stomach to dropped. He had thought he'd brushed over a really tender spot and unintentionally hurt her. "Wh-, what is that?" He had heard her exclaim when she had noticed that the remnants of her innocence were not the only thing he'd been wiping away from her with the washcloth. He had realized then that perhaps the queen's premarital chat with Rapunzel had omitted some very important parts or maybe she had described the process demurely, in terms so abstract that Rapunzel had failed to grasp the concept. He had explained to her then, the mechanics of his own release in terms that were much more hands-on and concrete. He could see now that he needed to explain this corollary response.
"Some women do it too, sometimes," he told her as he pushed himself up, putting both him and her into a sitting position and she wrapped her slender legs around his waist. His large hands were still under her arms and his thick fingers were splayed over her shoulder blades supporting her.
She scrunched up her nose in a gesture that told him she wasn't entirely happy with this bit of news and she furrowed her delicate brows like she was deciding whether this was one secret society she wanted a membership to.
"It doesn't bother me," he added quickly. "In fact, I think it's kinda hot," he admitted.
"You do?" She asked incredulously.
"Yeah, I find every time you let go incredibly hot," he confessed. It wasn't a big secret. He thought it was pretty obvious that he loved when she would fall apart in his arms.
"Even this time?"
"Yeah." Especially this time, he thought. He didn't want to broadcast this fact to her because he didn't want her to feel pressured to do this every time. He wanted her to relax and focus on how good it felt when they were together and not worry about whether it would happen or not happen again.
"But it was so . . . messy this time," she protested.
"It's always sticky and messy," he reminded her, threading one arm through the space under her arm, so that he could free up his other hand and tuck a loose strand of short, chocolate locks behind her her right ear.
"Usually, it's mostly my mess and this time you . . . added to it. It doesn't bother me," he assured her.
"Was it unpleasant for you?" He asked, knowing the answer full well, but trying to drive the point home for her.
She shook her head.
"Did you still feel amazing?"
She gave him a timid grin at first, but then nodded enthusiastically. The gesture made him chuckle. It didn't matter that they were married, that she was sitting on top of him, and that there wasn't a scrap of fabric between then, she still managed to retain a bit of shyness around him when they talked about stuff like this.
"Well then, that's all I care about," he told her.
". . . But what about the wet spot?" She asked, biting her lower lip.
"It'll dry before the chambermaids come in to change the sheets. I'm not worried about it."
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He scooted both of them over on their enormous four-poster bed so that they were no longer on top of the same damp spot. "There. Problem solved," he told her as he laid both of them back down on the side of the bed that hadn't been warmed by the body heat they had generated.
She shivered as she pushed her body closer to his and he ran his hands on both sides of her, trying to warm her up.
Running his calloused fingers over her soft skin was causing his own body to react and he suspected it was having the same effect on hers because she lifted her head and captured his lips. She kissed him hard, with an urgency he had been hoping to work his way up to, but hadn't expected quite yet. She ran her lithe fingers through his thick hair and moaned into his mouth so that the room and the outside world and everything that wasn't him and her faded into the background. Soon they were too preoccupied to worry about unexpected wet spots and impromptu anatomy lessons.
AN: You can find more of my Tangled fan fics here: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/3308755/J_Metropolis.
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