I'm barely awake, but felt like posting this right away, so...
Zip
LOTR RPS...ish
R
Dom/Jen (his publicist)
yes, het
Zip
All day long he had been staring at this small piece of metal. Rounded, linked to teeth. Just a dull, scuffed zipper. A “Y” engraved into it.
But it hung from the end of her snug denim dress. The dress that barely covered her thighs. The dress that she tugged at, with a soft, breathy giggle, when she sat down at the restaurant, her cheeks flushing pink. The dress rode up anyway, and she made an extraneous effort to keep her legs clamped together throughout the entire meal, not even daring to cross them. He noticed. She got flustered and looked down, breathing a quiet, punctuated “oh” every time she relaxed her posture, several times brushing her foot against his, several times bumping knees.
He sat awkwardly far from the table’s edge, sneaking peeks under it at her bare legs and the zipper that dangled in the tight gap between them. He thought he had been subtle, but she caught him once. He tried to cover himself with a transparent compliment on her pink, fluffy boots.
Walking back to their cars, he thought about the “Y” on her zipper. He thought about the “Y” of her legs and pelvis. The zipper jingled with the sway of her hips, and he thought perhaps it was singing “yes ting yes ting yes.”
They said their farewells, moving in for a hug. He placed his hand flatly against her stomach. Her grin faded. He trailed his long fingers lightly down her dress, stopping at the zipper, gripping it between thumb and forefinger. He bit his lip. She closed her eyes, said “yes” as he pulled it up. Said “yes” as it creaked, tiny metal teeth unlocking. Said “yes” as he slipped his thumb around her clit and slid all four fingers-one ringed-up into her.
LOTR RPS...ish
R
Dom/Jen (his publicist)
yes, het
Zip
All day long he had been staring at this small piece of metal. Rounded, linked to teeth. Just a dull, scuffed zipper. A “Y” engraved into it.
But it hung from the end of her snug denim dress. The dress that barely covered her thighs. The dress that she tugged at, with a soft, breathy giggle, when she sat down at the restaurant, her cheeks flushing pink. The dress rode up anyway, and she made an extraneous effort to keep her legs clamped together throughout the entire meal, not even daring to cross them. He noticed. She got flustered and looked down, breathing a quiet, punctuated “oh” every time she relaxed her posture, several times brushing her foot against his, several times bumping knees.
He sat awkwardly far from the table’s edge, sneaking peeks under it at her bare legs and the zipper that dangled in the tight gap between them. He thought he had been subtle, but she caught him once. He tried to cover himself with a transparent compliment on her pink, fluffy boots.
Walking back to their cars, he thought about the “Y” on her zipper. He thought about the “Y” of her legs and pelvis. The zipper jingled with the sway of her hips, and he thought perhaps it was singing “yes ting yes ting yes.”
They said their farewells, moving in for a hug. He placed his hand flatly against her stomach. Her grin faded. He trailed his long fingers lightly down her dress, stopping at the zipper, gripping it between thumb and forefinger. He bit his lip. She closed her eyes, said “yes” as he pulled it up. Said “yes” as it creaked, tiny metal teeth unlocking. Said “yes” as he slipped his thumb around her clit and slid all four fingers-one ringed-up into her.