Shacking Up: A Frak in Five Hundred Words
So my muse has been so terribly derelict in her duty that I set her a challenge: write something exactly five hundred words long. "Don't think about anything else but being 500 words long," I told her, and she fell for it. Of course, you may read this and think the joke was on me. But whatever, there be porn in my world again!!
PWP set somewhere between Crossroads and He That Believeth In Me. This is a belated birthday present for claraon , who can now stop asking "where's the smut?" every time she circles the bowl. :)
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s definitely something, so tell me.”
“I didn’t think you were serious.”
“Serious?”
“About sleeping on the couch.”
“I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“And I’m sure you didn’t.”
“And I’m sure you are making fun of me.”
“Perhaps. But honestly I’d much rather be having my way with you.”
Her teasing words were enough to make him hard. No woman had ever had such a powerful effect on him. He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hungrily, loving the way she moaned into his mouth. The little noises she made when he touched her had always driven him wild. It had been too long since he had heard them. Frakking responsibilities. But they didn’t matter anymore. Not to him, and apparently not to her either. At least not tonight.
He wanted to take her to his rack. Make love to her slowly. Show her all the ways he missed her. But as his hands roamed across her body, he realized his need was too urgent. The couch would have to do.
With unprecedented speed he divested them of all their clothes, her laughter at his eagerness only urging him on faster. He’d think her smug, but the damp heat he found between her thighs as he peeled soaked satin from her skin was enough for him to forgive her anything.
Looking down at her, hair spilling across worn leather and her skin flushed with desire for him, he thanked gods he did not believe in for this moment.
She sighed his name as he entered her. He waited until she adjusted her hips beneath him and nodded her head. She was ready for more. Pushing deeper into her, he felt her stretching around him. They always fit perfectly.
He began to thrust his hips, slowly at first, laving the skin of her neck with his tongue, running one of his hands through her hair, and moaning in time with her as she stroked his back and then ground one of her heels into his ass. That was her signal. She wanted it faster, harder, deeper.
He could not deny her. Pounding into her now, grunting from his efforts, trying to hear the beautiful hum of her pleasure over the slapping of skin and the scraping of sweat against leather, he reached down between them. He remembered her body well enough that it took only a few strokes, fingers and cock working in perfect counterpoint, for her to explode around him.
Shouting her name as her spasms milked his cock, he clutched her body close, feeling the beat of her heart racing against his own. As their breathing evened, he regretfully slipped from her, offering an apologetic kiss to her lips for committing such a grievous sin before shifting them on their sides so that they could lie together comfortably, his arms wrapped securely around her from behind. He never intended to let go. A promise he had made before. This time he meant to keep it.
PWP set somewhere between Crossroads and He That Believeth In Me. This is a belated birthday present for claraon , who can now stop asking "where's the smut?" every time she circles the bowl. :)
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s definitely something, so tell me.”
“I didn’t think you were serious.”
“Serious?”
“About sleeping on the couch.”
“I didn’t want to assume anything.”
“And I’m sure you didn’t.”
“And I’m sure you are making fun of me.”
“Perhaps. But honestly I’d much rather be having my way with you.”
Her teasing words were enough to make him hard. No woman had ever had such a powerful effect on him. He wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hungrily, loving the way she moaned into his mouth. The little noises she made when he touched her had always driven him wild. It had been too long since he had heard them. Frakking responsibilities. But they didn’t matter anymore. Not to him, and apparently not to her either. At least not tonight.
He wanted to take her to his rack. Make love to her slowly. Show her all the ways he missed her. But as his hands roamed across her body, he realized his need was too urgent. The couch would have to do.
With unprecedented speed he divested them of all their clothes, her laughter at his eagerness only urging him on faster. He’d think her smug, but the damp heat he found between her thighs as he peeled soaked satin from her skin was enough for him to forgive her anything.
Looking down at her, hair spilling across worn leather and her skin flushed with desire for him, he thanked gods he did not believe in for this moment.
She sighed his name as he entered her. He waited until she adjusted her hips beneath him and nodded her head. She was ready for more. Pushing deeper into her, he felt her stretching around him. They always fit perfectly.
He began to thrust his hips, slowly at first, laving the skin of her neck with his tongue, running one of his hands through her hair, and moaning in time with her as she stroked his back and then ground one of her heels into his ass. That was her signal. She wanted it faster, harder, deeper.
He could not deny her. Pounding into her now, grunting from his efforts, trying to hear the beautiful hum of her pleasure over the slapping of skin and the scraping of sweat against leather, he reached down between them. He remembered her body well enough that it took only a few strokes, fingers and cock working in perfect counterpoint, for her to explode around him.
Shouting her name as her spasms milked his cock, he clutched her body close, feeling the beat of her heart racing against his own. As their breathing evened, he regretfully slipped from her, offering an apologetic kiss to her lips for committing such a grievous sin before shifting them on their sides so that they could lie together comfortably, his arms wrapped securely around her from behind. He never intended to let go. A promise he had made before. This time he meant to keep it.