Cloud no. 9
1) All fills for prompts of the earlier prompt posts go in the post the prompt was posted in. No re-posting or splitting up prompts and fills.
2) Self-prompt when you post unprompted fic. (This means posting what the fill is about in a first comment, like a real prompt, and commenting on that with your fill.)
3) Try not to get too srs business. ( Read more... )
“Shut up,” Petra says, mildly distracted for her own part by the way Ali's managed to practically fold herself in half backwards, “or I'll set it on vibrate again.”
“That supposed to put me off somehow? Anyway,” Ali says, looking straight up at Petra, “all I did was ask if you'd show me sometime exactly what you did to that boy.”
“You're imagining us as boys right now?” Petra says, trying not to roll her eyes too obviously.
“Just me. You're a girl with a strap-on. Saves wear and tear on the imagination.”
“You're a very bad girl, Campbell,” Petra says, admonishingly.
“Bad boy.”
“Bad boy. Just look what you've made me do.”
“Oh fuck. Pet”
“Didn't I tell you what would happen if you didn't shut up? And none of your screaming, either,” Petra adds, clamping a hand over Ali's mouth. “You'll have the entire hotel down on us at that rate, even if there's a “Do not disturb” sign up.” She watches Alison's thrashing around with some satisfaction. Alison makes a vaguely protesting noise, and then suddenly Ali's ankles are around the back of her neck, legs tightening around her to pull her face down close. Petra, smirking slightly, takes her hand off Ali's mouth, immediately replacing it with her own mouth as Ali arches up against her again.
**
“Right,” Ali says, “that's sex, food, nap, and still some time for more sex and a shower before we need to go rehearse. By the way, why was the “Do not disturb” sign already up before we ordered lunch?”
“I put it up this morning,” Petra says. “By the way, are you still imagining you're a boy?”
“How'd you guess?”
“It was your take charge attitude,” Petra snarks. “And possibly the way you eyed up the equipment while you thought I was still asleep. Mind untying my hands now?”
“If I could count on you to finish your meal of your own accord, I wouldn't have had to. Not my fault you need taking in hand occasionally.”
“I think the usual idea is bad girls get sent to bed without food.”
“You were already in bed, and you're not skipping meals on my watch,” Ali says, untying Petra's hands from the bedpost and each other. “Now remind me how this thing fits on again?”
“You're going to try and make me do the putting on the condom by deep-throating thing, are you?” Petra says, feeling a hand on the back of her neck as she's working the harness around Ali.
“Of course I will. I'm a bloke.”
“If you were a bloke,” Petra says, giving the head a considering look, “you'd be feeling this”. She bites down hard. “But you're not, so you can't be.”
“Cute,” Ali says. “Now get on your hands and knees, back to me. Actually,” she amends, “put your head down, you may want to bite the pillow at some point. Knees apart,” she adds, nudging a hand in between them, and then up the inside of Petra's legs. “Attitude adjustment first. Then shag.” Petra makes a faint whimpering noise, and wriggles under the slaps, but she does not try to get away.
“And about changing rooms,” Ali says, continuing, “you might want to leave that a while, unless you want to deal with explaining to the she-bear. Or Toni. I don't particularly fancy it, myself, and you can only be more covered up than usual for so long.”
“Gina won't mind,” Petra says, into the pillow.
“The marks?”
“The lack of nudity.”
“Which still leaves me to the sound of Toni yapping, and no real action. You're staying here.” She punctuates the last line with hard slaps: Petra's “Yes, Ali” has a slightly choked sound.
“That's better.” She looks down, stroking more gently; some of the marks are visible hand-prints. She slumps down beside Petra, turning her on her side. “Oh fuck, I've actually bruised you outright. Why didn't you say something?”
“Because it's not a problem, and anyway you stopped of your own accord.” Petra returns the offered hug. “And you don't have to leave marks on me to make me stay here. But you can if you want to.”
“I'm such a bitch,” Ali mutters, into Petra's shoulder. “I'm such a god-awful bitch.”
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