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Day 2, Could be in Camden, The Thick of It
Title: Could be in Camden
Fandom:The Thick of It
Characters: Malcolm Tucker/Grey White (OFC)
Rating: R
Word Count 921
Malcolm could still feel Grey’s lips against his. She’d been clumsy, but then of course she had, she was Grey and on top of that she’d been wasted. That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? Grey was drunk and horny he’d just happened to be in the back of the cab with her, that’d teach him for attempting to be a decent human being for once. He couldn’t quite forget the look on her face when he’d pushed her away though, an impulse because she drunk and she was Grey and she was so fucking young. Thinking about it now though there was a significant part of him that wished he’d kissed her back. A significant part that was currently throbbing insistently between his legs.
“She’s twenty fucking two!” he informed his half hard cock with a frown. A twenty two year he’d given the money to get that drunk, but well it hadn’t been so he could take advantage of her, and no one would ever assume Malcolm fucking Tucker would be a good influence on anyone, surely? He’d done the right thing, she’d thank him for it later, if she remembered what had happened, which he doubted she would, and even if she did she was hardly going to mention it, was she?
Shaking his head he walked tiredly to his bedroom and got ready for bed.
He was still hard, and there still a thought pulsing in the back of his head. What if. What if What if.
He could have been in what was no doubt some seedy shared house in Camden. If he’d just kissed her back, let her take his hand and pull him up the path he could have been in her bedroom instead on here, alone, in bed, with a what was now a raging fucking hard on.
His mind adjusted things just a little so Grey was less wasted and more slightly tipsy. Fuck even in a fantasy he didn’t like the idea of taking advantage. It was important though, to know she wanted him to be able to pretend, imagine, as he pushed down his pajama bottoms a little and wrapped his hand around his cock.
So, he could be in her bedroom now, with her pressed up against him, all those fucking zippers on her dress sticking into him through his shirt she’d be that close. She’d kiss him roughly, while her hands moved over his body, grabbing at him.
“Yeah,” he sighed, nodding to himself as he began to slowly stroke himself. He’d spent a lot of time with Grey lately, enough to be able to imagine exactly what she might be like in this situation. She’d be rough with him, of course she would, she’d probably hurt him actually, leave little marks and bruises on his skin and he felt his cock twitch in his hand at the very idea.
She’d be on top of him by now, he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. If he was going to wank over the thought of a night with Grey he was going to make it realistic. He could just see him now, beaming down at him sadistically as she straddled him and pulled off her dress. She’d be naked underneath it. He still remembered the feel of her bare skin when his hand had accidentally brushed against it when they’d been waiting for the cab. And there she was, pale and flawless and soft. He imagined himself reaching up, covering one tiny breast with his hand, his thumb brushing against her nipple, the other hand at her waist.
In reality he brushed his thumb delicately over the exposed tip of his cock and hissed at the sensation.
In his fantasy the hand at her hip moved lower, between her legs. She pressed closer to him, eager, wet as he slid his finger into her, making her moan.
His hand sped up a little as he scoffed at himself, laying there, alone in bed, imagining making her come, not the other way round. Fuck there was realistic and then was this! He remembered overhearing a conversation with her ex months ago. about how he didn’t make her come. Malcolm would. He might get much chance to do it, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He could make Grey come in a couple of minutes, he’d put money on it.
Above him her lips twitched and her eyes closed as he slipped another finger into her while she fucked herself on them and he squeezed at her breast, pinching her nipple and making her curse.
His tightened a little on his cock as he sped up more, stroking himself almost as quickly as he imagined Grey riding his fingers, frantic and desperate, her short blonde hair half covering her face as her she panted, the muscles around his fingers pulsing.
“Come on, darling,” he moaned, curling the fingers inside her as his hand on his cock moved more and more quickly,
She looked down at him, catching his eye as she started to come amongst a litany of swear words, and his name, as in reality did the same, coming all over his hand as he slowed down to a stop, panting heavily as he lay back, spent.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.
Next time he wanked over her he’d make sure she made him come first. It was only fair, wasn’t it?
Fandom:The Thick of It
Characters: Malcolm Tucker/Grey White (OFC)
Rating: R
Word Count 921
Malcolm could still feel Grey’s lips against his. She’d been clumsy, but then of course she had, she was Grey and on top of that she’d been wasted. That was what it came down to, wasn’t it? Grey was drunk and horny he’d just happened to be in the back of the cab with her, that’d teach him for attempting to be a decent human being for once. He couldn’t quite forget the look on her face when he’d pushed her away though, an impulse because she drunk and she was Grey and she was so fucking young. Thinking about it now though there was a significant part of him that wished he’d kissed her back. A significant part that was currently throbbing insistently between his legs.
“She’s twenty fucking two!” he informed his half hard cock with a frown. A twenty two year he’d given the money to get that drunk, but well it hadn’t been so he could take advantage of her, and no one would ever assume Malcolm fucking Tucker would be a good influence on anyone, surely? He’d done the right thing, she’d thank him for it later, if she remembered what had happened, which he doubted she would, and even if she did she was hardly going to mention it, was she?
Shaking his head he walked tiredly to his bedroom and got ready for bed.
He was still hard, and there still a thought pulsing in the back of his head. What if. What if What if.
He could have been in what was no doubt some seedy shared house in Camden. If he’d just kissed her back, let her take his hand and pull him up the path he could have been in her bedroom instead on here, alone, in bed, with a what was now a raging fucking hard on.
His mind adjusted things just a little so Grey was less wasted and more slightly tipsy. Fuck even in a fantasy he didn’t like the idea of taking advantage. It was important though, to know she wanted him to be able to pretend, imagine, as he pushed down his pajama bottoms a little and wrapped his hand around his cock.
So, he could be in her bedroom now, with her pressed up against him, all those fucking zippers on her dress sticking into him through his shirt she’d be that close. She’d kiss him roughly, while her hands moved over his body, grabbing at him.
“Yeah,” he sighed, nodding to himself as he began to slowly stroke himself. He’d spent a lot of time with Grey lately, enough to be able to imagine exactly what she might be like in this situation. She’d be rough with him, of course she would, she’d probably hurt him actually, leave little marks and bruises on his skin and he felt his cock twitch in his hand at the very idea.
She’d be on top of him by now, he wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. If he was going to wank over the thought of a night with Grey he was going to make it realistic. He could just see him now, beaming down at him sadistically as she straddled him and pulled off her dress. She’d be naked underneath it. He still remembered the feel of her bare skin when his hand had accidentally brushed against it when they’d been waiting for the cab. And there she was, pale and flawless and soft. He imagined himself reaching up, covering one tiny breast with his hand, his thumb brushing against her nipple, the other hand at her waist.
In reality he brushed his thumb delicately over the exposed tip of his cock and hissed at the sensation.
In his fantasy the hand at her hip moved lower, between her legs. She pressed closer to him, eager, wet as he slid his finger into her, making her moan.
His hand sped up a little as he scoffed at himself, laying there, alone in bed, imagining making her come, not the other way round. Fuck there was realistic and then was this! He remembered overhearing a conversation with her ex months ago. about how he didn’t make her come. Malcolm would. He might get much chance to do it, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He could make Grey come in a couple of minutes, he’d put money on it.
Above him her lips twitched and her eyes closed as he slipped another finger into her while she fucked herself on them and he squeezed at her breast, pinching her nipple and making her curse.
His tightened a little on his cock as he sped up more, stroking himself almost as quickly as he imagined Grey riding his fingers, frantic and desperate, her short blonde hair half covering her face as her she panted, the muscles around his fingers pulsing.
“Come on, darling,” he moaned, curling the fingers inside her as his hand on his cock moved more and more quickly,
She looked down at him, catching his eye as she started to come amongst a litany of swear words, and his name, as in reality did the same, coming all over his hand as he slowed down to a stop, panting heavily as he lay back, spent.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.
Next time he wanked over her he’d make sure she made him come first. It was only fair, wasn’t it?