I'm baaaaack!
I have written, hallelujah! I thought I'd never get over my writer's block.
Title: Don't Ever Leave Me, Don't Ever Go
Character: T-bag
Prompt: 51. Water
Rating: PG-13 for now, but will probably be either R or NC-17
Warning: Het.
Summary: I mentioned her in His Sara, now here's her story.
Authro's Notes: Based on the lyrics of Bob Dylan's "Sara". (Oh and it's Summer Glau, in case you didn't know. Because every girl I envision is Summer Glau.)
T-bag walked along the shore, letting the sand slide over his bare feet and in between his toes. His shoes had been discarded at the dock, he hated the feeling of sand in his socks. He was hardly dressed for the beach, in blue jeans and a clean white t-shirt, but it was cold, only the middle of April, and he hadn’t planned on going swimming anyway. It looked like no one else had either, judging from the near deserted beach. The wind picked up and he shivered. The water was probably freezing.
And that’s when he saw her. Wading out close to the shore, her arms across her chest, no doubt covered in goosebumps. The wind tossed her long, dark, wavy hair across her face as T-bag walked over, moving closer to her. She had a nice body, outfitted in a white bikini and he wished she’d turn around so he could maybe see her nipples poking through the material as they were apt to be in the cold weather.
Suddenly, she dove forward into the water, so perfectly, gracefully. She disappeared below the surface, then came up a few feet away, gasping at the freezing temperature. She swam around a bit, trying to warm up, her hair sticking to her face and he saw how beautiful she was as she turned around. She smiled when she saw him standing at the shore.
“S’not as cold as you think,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
T-bag laughed. “I bet,” he replied.
“Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”
T-bag shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
“Doesn’t matter, just go in your underwear.” She gave him a cocky smile. “I won’t mind.”
T-bag wasn’t a big fan of swimming and besides it was freezing out there. But he wasn’t about to pass up an offer from such a pretty girl, so he pulled off his t-shirt and began undoing his belt.
The girl swam up close to the shore, her body still submerged in water, looking like a shark coming in for the kill. It was a funny reversal, him as the victim and her as the predator, and it almost made him laugh.
He pulled off his pants and threw them onto the pile of his clothes, then stuck his feet into the water. He winced and she just giggled, turning over onto her back and pushing off from the sand, floating a few feet away from him. Her breasts were sticking out from the water, the material clinging to them and it made him wish he would just quickly get in the water before she noticed his imminent hard on. He waded up to his knees, then his thighs, and she beckoned to him, smiling coyly. Flirting with danger.
Pushing away memories of almost drowning as his daddy tried to teach him how to swim, T-bag dove into the water, swimming towards the girl and resurfacing beside her.
“Jesus Christ,” he exclaimed as he came up.
“See, I told you it wasn’t cold,” she said.
“You’re insane.”
“Well, you just gotta warm up.” She swam around T-bag, her hand brushing against him, which he figured was not entirely accidental. “Come on, you gotta swim, get the blood flowing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely flowing,” he thought.
“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked.
“Theo.”
“Well I’m Sara, Theo.”
She stood, the water coming up to her chest as she extended her hand to him in an exaggerated gesture of greeting and he took it, laughing and shaking his head. She was so vibrant, so full of passion. He wanted to take her head and hold it under the water till she stopped moving.
But he wouldn’t. What he had planned for her instead would be so much better.
“You know I really-ow!” She cried out in pain, hobbling for a moment on one leg, as she reached down and grabbed her foot. “I think I stepped on a barnacle or something,” she said, almost apologetically.
“Oh, you better not walk on it,” T-bag said in mock seriousness, “Them barnacle injuries can be fatal.”
She laughed, then winced. “Ow, it does hurt though.”
“Well here, let me carry you to shore, darlin’” T-bag offered, holding out an arm.
“Aren’t you sweet.”
She swam over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was so trusting, so innocent. He was so going to enjoy breaking her. He felt her breasts press against his chest and he willed himself not to get hard as he lifted her into his arms, the water making her effortless to carry. Her face was so close to his as he carried her onto the beach, her breath against his neck causing goosebumps to appear on the cold, wet skin. He set her down on the sand and she looked at the tiny line of blood trickling down her foot.
“Let me look,” he said, sitting down next to her and he gently took her leg, loving how compliant she was, how obedient.
He loved to take, but sometimes it was so much more fun to just be given something. He held her foot in his hands and she flinched as his fingers brushed over the wound.
“Tell me, am I going to live?” she asked.
T-bag shook his head. “No, I’m afraid we’ll have to amputate it.”
“Oh no! Now I’ll never be a ballerina!”
“Not unless there’s a ballet that features crutches prominently.”
She giggled and looked over at him, all adoring eyes and flirty smile. And before he could stop, he found himself stroking the leg he was holding. But she didn’t pull away as he expected.
“Are you really a ballerina?” he asked, still holding her leg.
“Used to be. I still dance occasionally, but not professionally or anything.”
“Well you certainly look like you’d be a great dancer. Got the body for it.”
She moved her leg and looked away and he thought he had offended her. He was about to say something, to apologize, when she leaned over and kissed him. It was wonderful, like nothing he’d ever felt before and as she pulled away, he just sat there, stunned. For one brief moment he was no longer in control, overcome by the intensity.
“Sorry,” she said, blushing “I just…I just couldn’t stand to sit here any longer without kissing you.”
He quickly regained his composure, angry at himself for getting overwhelmed by a victim.
“It’s quite alright,” he replied and he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss.
They fell backwards onto the sand and he rolled on top of her, their bodies pressed together, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Their kisses were hungry, needy, fueled by passion.
“We could do it right here, in the sand,” she said breathlessly as she broke away, “There’s no one here. No one would see.”
He looked down at her, noticing how beautiful she was, even with wet, stringy hair, even with no makeup and sand sticking to her skin. She was gorgeous. He had to keep her, just for a little while. He didn’t want her to go just yet.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said, placing a kiss on her neck, “I’ve got a place not far from here.”
She kissed his jaw. “I don’t know if I can wait.”
“It’s not too far. I promise,” he said, smiling and he pulled her up before going over to his clothes.
He pulled on his jeans over his wet underwear, then put on his t-shirt as she quickly hopped into a pair of cut-off shorts. She was so eager, he noticed that she could hardly contain herself.
She leaned into him as they walked down the beach, her arm snaking around his waist, and he threw an arm over her shoulder. They walked towards the dock together, probably looking like boyfriend and girlfriend to anyone who happened to see them. Until they got to the motel, he could pretend that they were. He could pretend that they were just a regular couple, that they were in love, that they had a normal relationship. That he was normal. And for a moment he could pretend that she didn’t have to leave.
But they all had to leave in the end.
I was motivated to write by seeing Robert makeout with all those girls. So thank you to katipl for all the lovely clips.
Title: Don't Ever Leave Me, Don't Ever Go
Character: T-bag
Prompt: 51. Water
Rating: PG-13 for now, but will probably be either R or NC-17
Warning: Het.
Summary: I mentioned her in His Sara, now here's her story.
Authro's Notes: Based on the lyrics of Bob Dylan's "Sara". (Oh and it's Summer Glau, in case you didn't know. Because every girl I envision is Summer Glau.)
T-bag walked along the shore, letting the sand slide over his bare feet and in between his toes. His shoes had been discarded at the dock, he hated the feeling of sand in his socks. He was hardly dressed for the beach, in blue jeans and a clean white t-shirt, but it was cold, only the middle of April, and he hadn’t planned on going swimming anyway. It looked like no one else had either, judging from the near deserted beach. The wind picked up and he shivered. The water was probably freezing.
And that’s when he saw her. Wading out close to the shore, her arms across her chest, no doubt covered in goosebumps. The wind tossed her long, dark, wavy hair across her face as T-bag walked over, moving closer to her. She had a nice body, outfitted in a white bikini and he wished she’d turn around so he could maybe see her nipples poking through the material as they were apt to be in the cold weather.
Suddenly, she dove forward into the water, so perfectly, gracefully. She disappeared below the surface, then came up a few feet away, gasping at the freezing temperature. She swam around a bit, trying to warm up, her hair sticking to her face and he saw how beautiful she was as she turned around. She smiled when she saw him standing at the shore.
“S’not as cold as you think,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
T-bag laughed. “I bet,” he replied.
“Why don’t you come in and see for yourself?”
T-bag shook his head, smiling. “I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
“Doesn’t matter, just go in your underwear.” She gave him a cocky smile. “I won’t mind.”
T-bag wasn’t a big fan of swimming and besides it was freezing out there. But he wasn’t about to pass up an offer from such a pretty girl, so he pulled off his t-shirt and began undoing his belt.
The girl swam up close to the shore, her body still submerged in water, looking like a shark coming in for the kill. It was a funny reversal, him as the victim and her as the predator, and it almost made him laugh.
He pulled off his pants and threw them onto the pile of his clothes, then stuck his feet into the water. He winced and she just giggled, turning over onto her back and pushing off from the sand, floating a few feet away from him. Her breasts were sticking out from the water, the material clinging to them and it made him wish he would just quickly get in the water before she noticed his imminent hard on. He waded up to his knees, then his thighs, and she beckoned to him, smiling coyly. Flirting with danger.
Pushing away memories of almost drowning as his daddy tried to teach him how to swim, T-bag dove into the water, swimming towards the girl and resurfacing beside her.
“Jesus Christ,” he exclaimed as he came up.
“See, I told you it wasn’t cold,” she said.
“You’re insane.”
“Well, you just gotta warm up.” She swam around T-bag, her hand brushing against him, which he figured was not entirely accidental. “Come on, you gotta swim, get the blood flowing.”
“Oh, it’s definitely flowing,” he thought.
“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked.
“Theo.”
“Well I’m Sara, Theo.”
She stood, the water coming up to her chest as she extended her hand to him in an exaggerated gesture of greeting and he took it, laughing and shaking his head. She was so vibrant, so full of passion. He wanted to take her head and hold it under the water till she stopped moving.
But he wouldn’t. What he had planned for her instead would be so much better.
“You know I really-ow!” She cried out in pain, hobbling for a moment on one leg, as she reached down and grabbed her foot. “I think I stepped on a barnacle or something,” she said, almost apologetically.
“Oh, you better not walk on it,” T-bag said in mock seriousness, “Them barnacle injuries can be fatal.”
She laughed, then winced. “Ow, it does hurt though.”
“Well here, let me carry you to shore, darlin’” T-bag offered, holding out an arm.
“Aren’t you sweet.”
She swam over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was so trusting, so innocent. He was so going to enjoy breaking her. He felt her breasts press against his chest and he willed himself not to get hard as he lifted her into his arms, the water making her effortless to carry. Her face was so close to his as he carried her onto the beach, her breath against his neck causing goosebumps to appear on the cold, wet skin. He set her down on the sand and she looked at the tiny line of blood trickling down her foot.
“Let me look,” he said, sitting down next to her and he gently took her leg, loving how compliant she was, how obedient.
He loved to take, but sometimes it was so much more fun to just be given something. He held her foot in his hands and she flinched as his fingers brushed over the wound.
“Tell me, am I going to live?” she asked.
T-bag shook his head. “No, I’m afraid we’ll have to amputate it.”
“Oh no! Now I’ll never be a ballerina!”
“Not unless there’s a ballet that features crutches prominently.”
She giggled and looked over at him, all adoring eyes and flirty smile. And before he could stop, he found himself stroking the leg he was holding. But she didn’t pull away as he expected.
“Are you really a ballerina?” he asked, still holding her leg.
“Used to be. I still dance occasionally, but not professionally or anything.”
“Well you certainly look like you’d be a great dancer. Got the body for it.”
She moved her leg and looked away and he thought he had offended her. He was about to say something, to apologize, when she leaned over and kissed him. It was wonderful, like nothing he’d ever felt before and as she pulled away, he just sat there, stunned. For one brief moment he was no longer in control, overcome by the intensity.
“Sorry,” she said, blushing “I just…I just couldn’t stand to sit here any longer without kissing you.”
He quickly regained his composure, angry at himself for getting overwhelmed by a victim.
“It’s quite alright,” he replied and he grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss.
They fell backwards onto the sand and he rolled on top of her, their bodies pressed together, her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Their kisses were hungry, needy, fueled by passion.
“We could do it right here, in the sand,” she said breathlessly as she broke away, “There’s no one here. No one would see.”
He looked down at her, noticing how beautiful she was, even with wet, stringy hair, even with no makeup and sand sticking to her skin. She was gorgeous. He had to keep her, just for a little while. He didn’t want her to go just yet.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he said, placing a kiss on her neck, “I’ve got a place not far from here.”
She kissed his jaw. “I don’t know if I can wait.”
“It’s not too far. I promise,” he said, smiling and he pulled her up before going over to his clothes.
He pulled on his jeans over his wet underwear, then put on his t-shirt as she quickly hopped into a pair of cut-off shorts. She was so eager, he noticed that she could hardly contain herself.
She leaned into him as they walked down the beach, her arm snaking around his waist, and he threw an arm over her shoulder. They walked towards the dock together, probably looking like boyfriend and girlfriend to anyone who happened to see them. Until they got to the motel, he could pretend that they were. He could pretend that they were just a regular couple, that they were in love, that they had a normal relationship. That he was normal. And for a moment he could pretend that she didn’t have to leave.
But they all had to leave in the end.
I was motivated to write by seeing Robert makeout with all those girls. So thank you to katipl for all the lovely clips.