Feb 19, 2007 01:58
It wasn't candlelight and soft music. It never would be. It was hard and loud and it came to the point that she couldn't tell one voice from the next. His. Hers. Mingled cries counterpointing the slapping of flesh, both intentional and by force.
Then his voice, her name, the creak and snap as the support on the bed broke. The pair landing in a jumble of sweat sheened flesh and tangled bedclothes. Panting, laughing as shaky fingers combed through tousled hair. The sharp slap of a hand on tender flesh and then the heat of his body was gone, leaving her in a sated mess on what remained of the bed.
"Get that replaced before next time or there won't be a next time." Without a look back, Murdoc headed for the door.
"Hey!"
"Yeah, yeah, back atcha, Wasabi Bitch."
Noodle woke with a start, bolting straight upright in bed and still shaking from the force of her own release, the dream alone triggering her to such pleasure. Groping at the bed beside her, she assured herself that she was both alone and that it was in one piece.
Falling back against the mattress, she yanked the pillow over head face and screamed into it until she nearly went hoarse.
murdoc,
dreams