The Right Angles
Title: The Right Angles
Author: drabbles_by_v
Characters/Pairings: Rossi/Prentiss
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Word Count: 892
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine and I'm making no profit by playing with their characters
Warnings: Explicit sex.
Summary: Rossi can't take it anymore and bends Prentiss over the pool table.
Author's Note: This was written in response to a kink!meme prompt: "Rossi/Prentiss, sex on a pool table"
It was the way she bent over the table in those goddamn jean shorts. Short jean shorts, the kind that rode up so high that calling them shorts was almost a joke. That was what had done him in, gotten him to where he was now.
That hadn’t been the start, however. No, it had started with watching her through the smoky air as she downed a beer. A drop had trickled down her chin, trailed its way down her neck and chest, and slipped between her breasts. She was wearing a red spaghetti strap shirt that stopped short at her stomach and he’d found himself watching her belly to see if the drop would make it all the way down, even knowing it couldn’t.
Next had been the cue, and Rossi practically cursed its memory. She’d leaned back against the table with her legs slightly spread, holding it between them. He’d watched as it came to rest against her crotch, where the fabric was pulled so tight it barely left anything up to the imagination. And she had an almost evil habit of rubbing the cue up and down while waiting her turn.
God, and even the way she played! Bending over with such a focused look in her eye, the way she was so still and intense right before she made a shot, licking her lips, and always, always sinking what she was aiming for. He’d been hard by the time she was making her third shot.
And then he’d made a beautiful bank shot and she’d leaned over and murmured in his ear, “You always know how to hit the exact right spot.” Looking back, he was proud of himself for not coming in his pants right then.
But then she’d bent over right in front of him and the shorts had pulled tight and he’d realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. There was a little damp spot and he could see her lips on either side of the material. And fuck, he didn’t care who was watching or where they were, he was having that, right now.
He’d spun her around and lifted her up onto the table, forcing his hand under the offensive shorts and ramming his fingers into her. She’d gasped but didn’t struggle in the slightest, just reached down and pulled the excuse of cover to the side, exposing her cunt up to him. He’d dropped to his knees and given her a few hard licks while reaching into his own lap and pulling his cock out, and then stood back up, reached a hand up to her neck, and rammed into her.
Now he was bending over Emily Prentiss and fucking her for all he was worth. She was moaning his name and arching her back, pushing her hips back at him with each of his thrusts. He was growling, calling her a fucking little cocktease, and she was loving every minute of it. Filthy utterances spilled from her lips-Fuck me, fuck me, oh god yes I love your cock so much, split me open, make my pussy feel so good, oh fuck yes-and he had never felt this dirty before, but damned if he wasn’t loving it.
They had drawn a small crowd to their corner of this seedy little bar, and thankfully, no one was complaining about the show. She didn’t seem to mind, either, but looked him dead in the eye and asked if he liked all of these people seeing how wet he made her, making them all jealous, and Rossi could barely hold back any more.
She moved a hand and was gripping a pool ball, bringing it to her chest and pulling it down her body, bringing her shirt with it, exposing her breasts. She rubbed them with the ball, making goosebumps break out all over her skin. She moaned loudly and spread her legs wider, begging for him to go harder, faster, deeper.
He told her to take it, take his cock and love it like the dirty slut she was, getting so hot and wet like this in public, what a shameful little child. She only begged for more, writhing on the table, pinching her own tits, tossing her head.
He reached down and smacked her clit and that pushed over the edge. She screamed as she came, seizing and shaking and yelling obscenities as she pushed herself down harder onto his cock, fucking herself at the perfect angle. He felt her cream coating him and he knew he was seconds away as she sank back down, panting for breath, fixing him with her intense gaze and encouraging him to have her, have all of her, and come, come now for me, daddy.
That had been his final undoing and he groaned as his cock exploded inside her, emptying its contents deep into her cunt. She encouraged him, using that unnatural power she had to squeeze her muscles around him even tighter, making him jerk forward, barely able to hold himself up on his arms.
Their small audience broke into applause as he pulled out and she sat up, smirking, and slid off the table. He could see his cum dripping down the insides of her thighs and she grabbed his hand and they waltzed out of the bar, heads held high.
Author: drabbles_by_v
Characters/Pairings: Rossi/Prentiss
Rating: FRAO/NC-17
Word Count: 892
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine and I'm making no profit by playing with their characters
Warnings: Explicit sex.
Summary: Rossi can't take it anymore and bends Prentiss over the pool table.
Author's Note: This was written in response to a kink!meme prompt: "Rossi/Prentiss, sex on a pool table"
It was the way she bent over the table in those goddamn jean shorts. Short jean shorts, the kind that rode up so high that calling them shorts was almost a joke. That was what had done him in, gotten him to where he was now.
That hadn’t been the start, however. No, it had started with watching her through the smoky air as she downed a beer. A drop had trickled down her chin, trailed its way down her neck and chest, and slipped between her breasts. She was wearing a red spaghetti strap shirt that stopped short at her stomach and he’d found himself watching her belly to see if the drop would make it all the way down, even knowing it couldn’t.
Next had been the cue, and Rossi practically cursed its memory. She’d leaned back against the table with her legs slightly spread, holding it between them. He’d watched as it came to rest against her crotch, where the fabric was pulled so tight it barely left anything up to the imagination. And she had an almost evil habit of rubbing the cue up and down while waiting her turn.
God, and even the way she played! Bending over with such a focused look in her eye, the way she was so still and intense right before she made a shot, licking her lips, and always, always sinking what she was aiming for. He’d been hard by the time she was making her third shot.
And then he’d made a beautiful bank shot and she’d leaned over and murmured in his ear, “You always know how to hit the exact right spot.” Looking back, he was proud of himself for not coming in his pants right then.
But then she’d bent over right in front of him and the shorts had pulled tight and he’d realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. There was a little damp spot and he could see her lips on either side of the material. And fuck, he didn’t care who was watching or where they were, he was having that, right now.
He’d spun her around and lifted her up onto the table, forcing his hand under the offensive shorts and ramming his fingers into her. She’d gasped but didn’t struggle in the slightest, just reached down and pulled the excuse of cover to the side, exposing her cunt up to him. He’d dropped to his knees and given her a few hard licks while reaching into his own lap and pulling his cock out, and then stood back up, reached a hand up to her neck, and rammed into her.
Now he was bending over Emily Prentiss and fucking her for all he was worth. She was moaning his name and arching her back, pushing her hips back at him with each of his thrusts. He was growling, calling her a fucking little cocktease, and she was loving every minute of it. Filthy utterances spilled from her lips-Fuck me, fuck me, oh god yes I love your cock so much, split me open, make my pussy feel so good, oh fuck yes-and he had never felt this dirty before, but damned if he wasn’t loving it.
They had drawn a small crowd to their corner of this seedy little bar, and thankfully, no one was complaining about the show. She didn’t seem to mind, either, but looked him dead in the eye and asked if he liked all of these people seeing how wet he made her, making them all jealous, and Rossi could barely hold back any more.
She moved a hand and was gripping a pool ball, bringing it to her chest and pulling it down her body, bringing her shirt with it, exposing her breasts. She rubbed them with the ball, making goosebumps break out all over her skin. She moaned loudly and spread her legs wider, begging for him to go harder, faster, deeper.
He told her to take it, take his cock and love it like the dirty slut she was, getting so hot and wet like this in public, what a shameful little child. She only begged for more, writhing on the table, pinching her own tits, tossing her head.
He reached down and smacked her clit and that pushed over the edge. She screamed as she came, seizing and shaking and yelling obscenities as she pushed herself down harder onto his cock, fucking herself at the perfect angle. He felt her cream coating him and he knew he was seconds away as she sank back down, panting for breath, fixing him with her intense gaze and encouraging him to have her, have all of her, and come, come now for me, daddy.
That had been his final undoing and he groaned as his cock exploded inside her, emptying its contents deep into her cunt. She encouraged him, using that unnatural power she had to squeeze her muscles around him even tighter, making him jerk forward, barely able to hold himself up on his arms.
Their small audience broke into applause as he pulled out and she sat up, smirking, and slid off the table. He could see his cum dripping down the insides of her thighs and she grabbed his hand and they waltzed out of the bar, heads held high.