The prompt page of doom
Alright! Alright, I give in. I'm making a place where you can prompt me.
But I've got a few rules:
1) This is for prompts that you can't otherwise prompt for me at comment_fic. Either you've used up all your slots or it's a Lonely Prompt weekend, just as long as the prompt showing up here isn't a prompt you've written there. This is for the sake of my own ( Read more... )
But I've got a few rules:
1) This is for prompts that you can't otherwise prompt for me at comment_fic. Either you've used up all your slots or it's a Lonely Prompt weekend, just as long as the prompt showing up here isn't a prompt you've written there. This is for the sake of my own ( Read more... )
He's drunk. They're both drunk, really. Drunk and giggling like school children half their age. Sam's got her fingers laced through his as she leads him up the steps. They stumble a little, but it only makes them giggle all the more, leaning into each other as she tries to get the key into the lock.
"I've got better aim," he whispers against her ear, voice low and dirty with promises that have nothing to do with keys.
She elbows him in the ribs, but not without shivering against him. "Damn well better."
They make it to the elevator before Jeff's patience runs out and he turns her, pressing her up against the closed sliding doors as he kisses her. Pulls at her soft lips with his teeth and lets his hands wander. One slides up against her stomach, against her breast, slowly circling until he can feel her nipple standing out through the silk and lace of her shirt and bra. She shivers again, lips opening to moan against his mouth as he reaches down to lift the front of her skirt and tease her through her panties.
"We're in the hallway," Sam protests. But her hands are tightening around his shoulders, her hips rocking into his touch.
"It's four in the morning," he murmurs back, and leans down to nip at her throat.
She spreads her legs wider for him, giving him better access. Jeff pushes the cloth aside, lets his fingers tease against the tight warmth of her opening, thumb brushing light circles against her clit. She rakes her fingers down his back in retaliation, only to slide her hands under his shirt and do it again.
And then the doors slide open.
They tumble into the elevator, barely managing a controlled fall to the floor. The doors slide shut behind them, and he takes the opportunity to open her shirt and kiss and nip his way from her throat to her breasts. He runs his tongue along the edge of her bra.
"We're not in the hallway anymore," he growls before sucking at her nipple through the lace.
This time she has no arguments. Instead she arcs up for him, gasping as he tugs at her with his teeth. Sam reaches down, pulling desperately at his belt and fly and pushing his jeans down and out of the way with her feet. Jeff growls again as she strokes him, as though he weren't hard enough already. He pushes her panties aside again, pulling her hands away with his other hand, and presses into her.
It's hard and fast. Sam pulls him closer, deeper, encouraging him faster. He can't hold out like this for long, so he thumbs her in time to his thrusts. Urges her with kisses and filthy low whispers to come with him, to come first. She trembles around him, tightens as she growls out his name and pulls him along after.
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