Treat me like your mothersuchacharmerMarch 17 2012, 01:47:08 UTC
Deep down Jon knew this was wrong, actually no, not even deep down, this was wrong on every possible level. But then why did it feel so...He'd lost his train of thought again, as she backed him up against the rough stone walls of his bedroom in Winterfell. Her hands wandered, one running through his dark curls, the other slowly snaking around the side of his body, coming to rest gently on the small of his back. Her breathe was hot on his neck as she planted neat, ladylike kisses along his collarbone.
Why was he allowing this to happen, why was his body reciprocating these touches? He was about to become a man of the Night's Watch. She was about to become the betrothed of a prince. But that wasn't even the real reason for this to be such a problem...it was the fact that she was his...his thoughts were interrupted again as the candlelight flickered and her red hair seemed to glow, the tendrils framing her face looking like wisps from the flame itself. Her face...it looked so much like the woman that had been so withholding all his life. All he had ever wanted was for her to love him. And now...now he was getting the chance. He grabbed hold of Sansa, no longer fighting the sane part of his mind that screamed for him to stop. He carried her over to the bed, setting her down among the furs.
She furiously resumed the kisses, finding his mouth this time, tongues eager and hungry. Her hands clumsily undid his laces, as his slipped her gown off. He should have been going slow, taking time to admire her soft curves, and supple breasts, but it wasn't Sansa that Jon was seeing in this moment. It was Catelyn...and he didn't want to linger on her youthful body for fear of breaking the illusion.
He closed his eyes as she gently stroked his cock, cooing into his ear the command, "Fuck me, Stark." Jon obliged, gently guiding himself into her body. He was overcome by the sensation. His hands suddenly stopped their roaming over her body, and he thought he was going to lose it right there.
She must have noticed, because in that instance she took control, throwing him back onto the bed. She straddled him, and began riding him with a slow, steady rhythm. He looked up, once again admiring the glow of the soft light on her hair. He noted her closed eyes, too. She wasn't here with Jon, her bastard brother either. She was with someone else in her head. Jon wondered who? But he didn't care, because at that moment, her rocking, and his own bodies instinctual thrusts were moving him closer and closer to orgasm. He snapped his eyes shut, letting the ecstasy build, finally releasing, as she too clenched around him, fingers digging into his chest, his early question answered as she called out, "Ned..."
Re: Treat me like your motherlainemontgomeryMarch 20 2012, 20:52:21 UTC
Oh, good GOD. This is...I can't even. I've always found something very Freudian about the Jon/Sansa pairing- he looks just like Ned, she looks just like Catelyn...and you went there, and I LOVE it. Genius.
Why was he allowing this to happen, why was his body reciprocating these touches? He was about to become a man of the Night's Watch. She was about to become the betrothed of a prince. But that wasn't even the real reason for this to be such a problem...it was the fact that she was his...his thoughts were interrupted again as the candlelight flickered and her red hair seemed to glow, the tendrils framing her face looking like wisps from the flame itself. Her face...it looked so much like the woman that had been so withholding all his life. All he had ever wanted was for her to love him. And now...now he was getting the chance. He grabbed hold of Sansa, no longer fighting the sane part of his mind that screamed for him to stop. He carried her over to the bed, setting her down among the furs.
She furiously resumed the kisses, finding his mouth this time, tongues eager and hungry. Her hands clumsily undid his laces, as his slipped her gown off. He should have been going slow, taking time to admire her soft curves, and supple breasts, but it wasn't Sansa that Jon was seeing in this moment. It was Catelyn...and he didn't want to linger on her youthful body for fear of breaking the illusion.
He closed his eyes as she gently stroked his cock, cooing into his ear the command, "Fuck me, Stark." Jon obliged, gently guiding himself into her body. He was overcome by the sensation. His hands suddenly stopped their roaming over her body, and he thought he was going to lose it right there.
She must have noticed, because in that instance she took control, throwing him back onto the bed. She straddled him, and began riding him with a slow, steady rhythm. He looked up, once again admiring the glow of the soft light on her hair. He noted her closed eyes, too. She wasn't here with Jon, her bastard brother either. She was with someone else in her head. Jon wondered who? But he didn't care, because at that moment, her rocking, and his own bodies instinctual thrusts were moving him closer and closer to orgasm. He snapped his eyes shut, letting the ecstasy build, finally releasing, as she too clenched around him, fingers digging into his chest, his early question answered as she called out, "Ned..."
(I'm a bad person).
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
this is so hot, and so wrong. WELL DONE!
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment