Chlollie Fanfic: Just for Funsies, Chapter 1/3
Hi, everyone!
I haven’t been able to get online for a few days; a combination of internet troubles and some real life bizniz. But the upside to all is that it gives me more time to write. And following the oh-so-smoking Chlollie scene from Warrior, this cute little smutlet popped into my head. I think this is a suitable silver lining, don’t you? ;-)
Enjoy! Rated NC-17, so no youngsters peeking behind the cut, please.
Author’s note: It’s my very first time of writing full-on Chlollie sex, so your feedback would be greatly appreciated.
(Subtitle: I am a total Comments Slut. Please indulge me.) ;-)
PS: I have the whole story completed, but I don't want to spam y'all (and if I post everything at once, no-one will comment on the earlier chapters. :-P) So I shall be posting a chapter a day until Monday. Of course, if y'all ask me nicely... ;-) *shameless plug*
ETA: What a difference hi-res makes! Credit to nyonyo for her lovely, crystal clear cap. Here's the banner!
Title: Just for Funsies…
Author: BabyDee
Pairing: Chlollie
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Graphic Sex
Timeline: Season 9 (Warrior)
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC comics.
Summary: Chloe decides to take Oliver up on his offer of guilt-free sex.
Feedback: …Mmm, yeah. J
2nd Place Winner: Best Smut Fic, Chollie 2010 Fanfiction Awards
Banner award by the lovely kc_2009. :-)
Chapter 1
“Did you mean what you said earlier?”
Chloe Sullivan and Oliver Queen were seated on opposite ends of the couch in the Watchtower, finishing off a bottle of single malt whisky by the light of the moon filtering through the newly-replaced stained glass window. Chloe had returned home from a tumultuous day to find the young entrepreneur firing arrows at an archery board, a bottle of single malt whisky on the table. They’d gotten talking, and somehow the conversation had turned into an offer of casual sex.
Oliver lowered his glass and raised a brow at Chloe’s question. “I say a lot of things, Chloe. You need to be more specific.”
“That line about catching my fun whatever way I can, especially if it’s right in front of my face; did you mean it?” she asked bluntly.
He flashed her a lazy grin. “Why, would you be up for it?”
She shrugged. “I might be.”
Several seconds ticked by and Oliver took a long sip from his glass before speaking. “This is purely from a physical standpoint, Chloe,” he said honestly. “I’m not in love with you, and I don’t expect to hear any flowery declarations of blooming emotions from you -”
“Strictly bang buddies, tension-relief sex just for funsies, I get it,” she said abruptly. “To be honest, I’d prefer it.”
He held his hands up. “Just making sure we’re on the same page here,” he said.
“Same book…same page…same paragraph,” she replied, swirling the amber liquid in her glass.
“Good. So, how about it, Watchtower?”
She fixed a steady gaze on him. “How about what, GA? You have to be specific.”
He chuckled at having his words thrown back at him. “How do you fancy several nights of no-strings, guilt-free sex? Just two red-blooded, good-looking blondes, taking delight in what our bodies have to offer.”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “Scratching an itch? Gee, I don’t know, Oliver. I mean, what can you do for me that my vibrator can’t?”
He winced. “Touché. You’re certainly no shrinking violet, are you?”
She shrugged delicately and crossed her legs. “You wanted honesty. And one orgasm’s pretty much like the next, if you ask me.”
He shook his head. “I beg to differ,” he replied confidently.
“Oh, really?” she said, sitting up, her eyes gleaming with interest. “Are you saying there are orgasms, and then there are Orgasms?” She added finger quotes at the repeated word.
“Clearly you haven’t had much sex,” he chuckled.
She sighed. “Sad but true, and it wasn’t even good sex. Which is why I find your claim of varying orgasms intriguing.”
“You should. The female orgasm can present in at least three kinds of ways, each completely different from the other.”
“And d’you believe you can delight me with all three?” she challenged.
He raised a brow. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”
She snorted. “No.”
He laughed again and swirled his glass. “I should have known you of all people would want proof of my theory.”
“True, but I don’t need you to prove it.” She took a tentative sip of whisky and went on. “So again I ask ya: why should I pick you over my battery operated boyfriend?”
He smiled wolfishly at her and drained his glass. “I guess the real question is: what do I have that your battery operated boyfriend doesn’t?”
She tilted her head and studied him. “And your answer would be…?”
“Three words,” he said, putting his glass down and shifting towards her on the couch. When his face was inches from hers, he threaded his fingers into her hair.
“Hands,” he said, looking into her eyes. She held his gaze as he lowered his lips to hers.
“Mouth.” He brushed his lips over hers lightly, nudging her lips open.
“Tongue,” he rasped, delving into her mouth and stroking her tongue with his.
Chloe shivered and lifted her hands to his chest, trailing her fingers down over his black t-shirt before slipping them beneath the fabric. She ran her hands over his abs, then slid them up his chest and molded them to his pecs. With her thumbs she caressed his nipples, and he shuddered, breaking the kiss to look down at her as he breathed roughly.
She flashed him a cheeky grin and brushed her thumbs over him again. “You’re not the only one with a few aces up your sleeve,” she murmured seductively.
His lips curled in amusement, and one hand left her hair and travelled slowly down the front of her blouse. “And you’re not the only one who can play at that game,” he replied, cupping her breast and squeezing gently.
This time it was her turn to gasp as his talented fingers kneaded and squeezed her pliant flesh, his touch gradually going from gentle to firm. He took her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and teased the firm tip, glancing his thumb over the crest again and until a slow ache began to burn deep within her.
Gently Oliver pushed her over till she was lying on the sofa, then lowered his hands till they covered both her breasts. Her breathing spiked as he caressed her with his sure, archer’s hands, tweaking her nipples till they thrust out like hard points against the green silk of her blouse.
Oliver’s eyes darkened with lust at the sight of her getting so turned on by his simple touch. He slid his hands round to her back and gently pulled on the sash at her waist till her blouse was free, then pushed it up slowly to reveal her black lace bra. Chloe quickly pulled her blouse off over her head while Oliver flicked the clasp on her front-fastening bra and moved the cups aside.
His eyes widened appreciatively as her nipples came into view. For long seconds he just stared at her breasts rising and falling as she breathed deeply, her nipples peaking and hardening under his ardent gaze. Then he lifted his hands and smoothed them over her satiny flesh, weighing them in his palms and caressing her nipples with his thumbs.
Chloe whimpered as the ache between her legs escalated dangerously. A rush of moisture dampened her panties, and she instinctively rubbed her thighs together to try and give herself some relief.
Oliver noticed the slight movement and slid one hand down her body, moving slowly over her midriff, pausing to dip a finger into her belly button. At the same time he lowered his blond head to the breast his hand had just left and flicked his tongue over the stiff crest.
Unable to hold back her vocal responses any longer Chloe moaned loudly, arching her back and instinctively offering him more. Oliver squeezed and pinched her other nipple, making her gasp. He flicked the bud with his tongue again and again, then eventually wrapped his lips around the aching bud and gently sucked.
Chloe sobbed and grabbed hold of his hair as the tension in her became almost unbearable. She felt like a tightly wound spring that was ready to snap, and he hadn’t even touched her below the waist yet.
Oliver was right. Sex with Jimmy, while not unpleasant, had done nothing to prepare her for the range of sensations currently coursing through her nervous system.
Still sucking on one breast and kneading the other, Oliver’s other hand skimmed over her thigh and down to her knee. He slipped his hand under the hem of her skirt and trailed his fingers up her inner thigh in a slow, deliberate path.
“Oh God,” she whispered, straining instinctively towards that hand. Her breathing hitched as his fingers travelled higher and higher until he got to the edge of the elastic at the top of her thigh. She shivered as he traced the scalloped edge from her hip all the way along to where she was burning for his touch, skimming over her lightly and going up the other thigh.
“Please, Ollie,” she whispered brokenly, sounding completely needy and pathetic, but totally beyond caring. “Please.”
Oliver’s fingers travelled back along the edge, stopping when he got to the point of the vee. He pressed against her aching mound, making her jump a little, and continued to move his fingers in small, concentric circles, massaging her damp flesh through the lacy fabric.
Chloe shuddered as primal heat built within her at his expert touch. It was maddening, the way he was making her feel; putting just enough pressure on her clit to keep her thoroughly aroused but not enough to send her tumbling over the edge.
She couldn’t stand his teasing any longer. “More,” she pleaded.
He kindly obliged, hooking his fingers into the waistband of her matching panties and drawing them down. She lifted her hips and he slid them off her legs completely, then returned his hand to the apex of her thighs.
He released her nipple and lifted his head to look into her eyes. She stared back at him, noticing for the first time that he wasn’t completely unaffected by her state of semi-nudity. His normally warm brown eyes looked almost vampire black, and he was breathing so hard she could feel his chest expanding as he inhaled. Best of all, his hard length was solid and promising against her thigh, pulsing with life and branding her with heat.
Oliver caressed her inner thighs, and they automatically parted for him. Without breaking his gaze he drew one fingertip through her damp curls, the intimate caress making her mouth fall open. He worked one long finger through the soft folds and pushed into her slick heat, sliding in all the way.
Chloe moaned and her body automatically clamped down on that single digit, desperate for the promise of carnal pleasure. He withdrew his finger and thrust back in again, causing her moans to rise in pitch. She clutched at his biceps and tilted her hips to meet the thrusts of his hand. Once he was sliding back and forth easily, Oliver added a second finger, doubling his presence inside her. Once again he kept her balanced with slow, deep strokes, picking up speed as her body adjusted to his intimate invasion.
Chloe’s thighs dropped wide open and she whimpered as he added a third finger and thrust hard, stretching her to her limits. His long fingers pleasured her with expert finesse, pressing in deep and massaging a dense area within at the height of every thrust.
“Oh, God,” she breathed as she realised he must be stroking her g-spot. She’d long since come to believe that she must have been born without one, because Jimmy had certainly never found it and neither had she. But like the master marksman that he was, Oliver Queen had struck gold with a few simple touches and was going for the bullseye.
His blond head came down on her breast again and he began to suckle her strongly, tugging on the nipple firmly with his mouth as his hand thrust inside her hard. The careful balance that he’d created within her quickly began to tip, and a tidal wave of sensation bore down upon her with unexpected force.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned breathlessly, her voice rising as the wave reached its pinnacle and broke within her. Her moans became a loud wail as pulsing bouts of pleasure spiralled from deep within her womb and radiated out through her entire body. She clung to him as her inner muscles spasmed and clenched around his fingers, helpless to do anything but succumb to the awesome sensation.
Eventually the tide ebbed and her muscles relaxed. She collapsed bonelessly against the cushions, breathing deeply, her throat dry from all the gasping. Closing her eyes, she regulated her breathing and attempted to gather her scattered thoughts.
Usually, her orgasms lasted about five seconds and felt like a brief flash-in-the-pan, like the flame of a struck match which quickly settled once the cordite had burnt out. This one must have gone on for at least fifty, and had been so intense she’d almost been frightened that something had gone wrong.
Dimly she also realised that Oliver had made her come with little or no clitoral stimulation. That was definitely a first. There seemed to be some truth in his knowledge of the female orgasm.
“You still alive?” she heard him murmur silkily above her.
“Still here,” she replied, cracking an eye open. “You weren’t kidding; that was really…intense.”
“Different from what you’re used to?” he queried.
“Actually, yeah,” she admitted. “So you’ve delivered on one awesome orgasm, yay you. Same time tomorrow for the next?”
His brow furrowed in a deep frown. “Why wait till tomorrow?” he asked, puzzled. “What’s wrong with now?”
She regarded him with a sardonic look. “I’m not sure what kind of women you’re used to pleasuring, Ollie, but I’m a one-a-day kinda gal, myself,” she said, sitting up.
To her surprise, Oliver placed a hand on her middle and pushed her back down again. “Why on earth would you pigeonhole yourself like that?”
She sighed. “That’s just the way some of us are, Oliver…”
“That’s bullshit,” he said firmly. “You’ve got more sensuality in your little finger that most women have in their entire bodies, Chloe. Once again, I think it’s simply a question of no-one having touched you right. Yet.”
She raised a quizzical brow. “So you’re saying you can get me to go again? Right now?”
He grinned. “I’m up for it if you are.”
She glanced down at his lap where a sizeable bulge pressed against his jeans. “Literally, I see,” she said, amused. “Okay, but don’t be disappointed if nothing happens. I'm pretty sure I'm in the 75 percent of women who don't climax from regular sex, and after Jimmy...well, I swore to myself that I’d never fake it again just to flatter someone’s ego.”
“Oh, believe me, Chloe,” Oliver said confidently as he stripped off his t-shirt. “You won’t have to.”
***
Chapter 2...