Pushing Daisies fic: Mother of Invention, 4/4
Mother of Invention 4/4
Ned/Chuck, NC-17, 650 words
There will be more in this verse, but this stands alone so far.
Part 1 2 3
He takes her at her word, starts awkwardly trying to apologize again the minute Olive flips the sign to Closed. She maintains radio silence until they are in the bedroom.
"Ned, sit down."
He does, promptly, on the edge of his bed.
She toes off her shoes, lays her gloves carefully on the nightstand. Then she unbuttons her dress. He starts babbling again right on cue, something about how he can turn the thermostat down if she's hot, and he's halfway up looking determinedly anywhere but her.
"I said sit. Sit and look at me."
So he does, pigeon-toed with his hands between his knees and a blush creeping over his cheeks and right down his neck.
She slips the dress off and hangs it up, giving him the few seconds while she faces away. Then she turns back, discards her bra, and settles carefully onto her own bed. She cups one breast in her left hand and teases her nipple hard, trailing her other hand down over her belly and between her legs.
It isn't really good, not yet, but she's been nursing this well over 24 hours straight, and for days before that. It's more of a relief than a pleasure.
"I want you," she says. "I want to have sex with you, and if no touching is the rule, that's fine. There are lots of other things we can do."
When she eases her underwear off she's already slick and open. The smell hits the enclosed room as she lets her legs fall open, and she can see it hit Ned too, the way his nostrils flare and his body jerks physically.
From where he's sitting, he can't actually see. Just see her hand moving there. He looks nearly incapacitated by heat and embarrassment, eyes wide as saucers, spine curved over his lap a little like it's physically paining him.
"It will be safe, because we'll be careful. I can handle a little risk, but I absolutely cannot handle having nothing but cutesy G-rated fake kisses for one more single day." Her voice has gone breathy. She forces herself to keep to long, smooth strokes of two fingers, just until she's said everything that needs saying. "I like you watching me, so that's a great place to start. I guess you need some time to get used to it, but next time, I want to see you come. This is about both of us."
When she says she wants to see him come, his body jerks again. He presses one hand down over his crotch hard and whimpers. That does it, that just completely does it, and she gives in. Rough and quick, little jerky, jiggling rubs over her clit, final hard pressure as everything contracts. She feels the way her face contorts and can hear her own hitching, gasping breaths. If only she wasn’t making so much noise, so she could hear his own desperate, strangled noises. She rides it for a long time, pressing enough to draw out another weak spasm every time she thinks she's finished, until she's completely limp and sinking heavily into her mattress.
The bathroom door closes too hard, and she can hear Ned's frantic finish only seconds later.
When he comes out he's still beet-red, and it's still as much embarrassment as lust. But he came back at all, after it was so very obvious what he was doing, and that probably means she can bring him along in this.
"Don't move," he says, quickly, like he has to get it out fast before he can stammer or stutter. She nods, and he reaches down carefully -- oh, so carefully -- to take hold of the blanket folded at her feet and draw it up over her. She smiles at him with the very last of her waking mind, and drifts off.
Ned/Chuck, NC-17, 650 words
There will be more in this verse, but this stands alone so far.
Part 1 2 3
He takes her at her word, starts awkwardly trying to apologize again the minute Olive flips the sign to Closed. She maintains radio silence until they are in the bedroom.
"Ned, sit down."
He does, promptly, on the edge of his bed.
She toes off her shoes, lays her gloves carefully on the nightstand. Then she unbuttons her dress. He starts babbling again right on cue, something about how he can turn the thermostat down if she's hot, and he's halfway up looking determinedly anywhere but her.
"I said sit. Sit and look at me."
So he does, pigeon-toed with his hands between his knees and a blush creeping over his cheeks and right down his neck.
She slips the dress off and hangs it up, giving him the few seconds while she faces away. Then she turns back, discards her bra, and settles carefully onto her own bed. She cups one breast in her left hand and teases her nipple hard, trailing her other hand down over her belly and between her legs.
It isn't really good, not yet, but she's been nursing this well over 24 hours straight, and for days before that. It's more of a relief than a pleasure.
"I want you," she says. "I want to have sex with you, and if no touching is the rule, that's fine. There are lots of other things we can do."
When she eases her underwear off she's already slick and open. The smell hits the enclosed room as she lets her legs fall open, and she can see it hit Ned too, the way his nostrils flare and his body jerks physically.
From where he's sitting, he can't actually see. Just see her hand moving there. He looks nearly incapacitated by heat and embarrassment, eyes wide as saucers, spine curved over his lap a little like it's physically paining him.
"It will be safe, because we'll be careful. I can handle a little risk, but I absolutely cannot handle having nothing but cutesy G-rated fake kisses for one more single day." Her voice has gone breathy. She forces herself to keep to long, smooth strokes of two fingers, just until she's said everything that needs saying. "I like you watching me, so that's a great place to start. I guess you need some time to get used to it, but next time, I want to see you come. This is about both of us."
When she says she wants to see him come, his body jerks again. He presses one hand down over his crotch hard and whimpers. That does it, that just completely does it, and she gives in. Rough and quick, little jerky, jiggling rubs over her clit, final hard pressure as everything contracts. She feels the way her face contorts and can hear her own hitching, gasping breaths. If only she wasn’t making so much noise, so she could hear his own desperate, strangled noises. She rides it for a long time, pressing enough to draw out another weak spasm every time she thinks she's finished, until she's completely limp and sinking heavily into her mattress.
The bathroom door closes too hard, and she can hear Ned's frantic finish only seconds later.
When he comes out he's still beet-red, and it's still as much embarrassment as lust. But he came back at all, after it was so very obvious what he was doing, and that probably means she can bring him along in this.
"Don't move," he says, quickly, like he has to get it out fast before he can stammer or stutter. She nods, and he reaches down carefully -- oh, so carefully -- to take hold of the blanket folded at her feet and draw it up over her. She smiles at him with the very last of her waking mind, and drifts off.