fic - Bend Over Boyfriend (MCR, NC-17, Frank/Jamia)
Bend Over Boyfriend
MCR. Frank/Jamia, a tiny smidgen of Frank/Gerard. Written for the bandslashmania pornathon.
NC-17 for strap-on sex, cursing, and the dreaded het. Feedback and concrit welcome.
Touring will fuck you up. She's not even in a band, and touring is fucking her up. She watches porn all the time, eats Cheetos for breakfast, drinks her lunch, and develops serious opinions about video games that she has no idea how to play. She hasn't even been out with the band for a week, and her jeans are already marked hem to waist with unidentifiable stains. She has a t-shirt with "Bob's my croquet BITCH" written on it in ketchup, for Christ's sake. Even worse, she can't bring herself to throw it out.
It's the porn that gets her into a mess, though. Frank's band is a bunch of nice guys, yeah, and they don't really party, but they have some seriously whacked-out taste in porn. There's a lot of it, tucked in between Argento films and Burton movies and Mikey's copy of The Last Unicorn - Deluxe Edition. There's all sorts of stuff: straight, gay, who-cares. Girls with glasses, girls who smoke, girls with tattoos. Barebacking and guys with piercings and cowboys. A whole series of arty stuff in black and white that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. There's even one with midgets (although Bob swears he bought it for a prank) and a couple of serious fetish tapes.
She's seen most of them. Some of them she can't make it all the way through - there's maybe something kind of un-p.c. about it, but there's only so much little people fucking she can take - but she can recognize most of them by the opening credits. The boys get used to her being around pretty fast, and they get used to how laid-back she is even faster, so there always seems to be porn going on in the background. After a while, she starts to watch it by herself, when she's bored and doesn't feel like watching Pirates of the Caribbean again. She likes porn, is the thing. Even when it isn't sexy, it's pretty fun.
She's actually looking for Pirates of the Caribbean when she finds the other DVD. The boys are out doing something, she didn't even ask, and she's too tired to go out and be sociable. She just wants Johnny Depp and microwave popcorn, but she can't find the damn movie. She thinks she has, when she feels the edge of a DVD box in the back, behind a messy pile of other movies. It takes some careful handling to get it out without toppling the whole stack over, but she manages. It's not Pirates of the Caribbean, though. It's Bend Over Boyfriend 2.
Of course she watches it.
It's not like it makes her want a dick. She's got a dick, complete with conveniently attached Frank, and she's perfectly happy with it and him. She loves her pussy, completely and without reservation.
But the video sticks with her. She thinks about it on the plane home, while she's walking the dogs, while she's making dinner for herself in the too-quiet house. At first it's just the memory of the one couple, the man arching up under the woman, the way the muscles in his thighs stood out under his skin when she pushed in, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass. But then she starts to wonder what the dildo looked like going into his ass, and from there it's just a short jump to wondering what it felt like for the girl.
After three days of thinking about it, she gives up on denial and starts thinking about what it would feel like if she did it to Frank.
After two weeks of thinking about that, she starts reading up on pegging online.
After another week, she orders a beginner's kit. She hasn't even asked Frank if he wants to do it, yet; but when she thinks about the video, about where it was hidden, what it was hidden behind, she thinks asking isn't really going to be the problem. She's still nervous about it, though.
"Sure," he says, when she finally calls. "You're coming in Thursday, right?"
"Yeah. You're a little squeaky, hon'."
"I'm not!" His voice cracks on "not," and he clears his throat. She can hear Bob jeering in the background. "I'm not."
"You've been thinking about this a lot, right? You're a little squeaky."
He's silent for a minute. She waits him out. "Yeah."
"I found the video." He doesn't respond. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."
"Yeah," he says again, and she can practically hear his blush. "Whatever, it's not like you're surprised."
"No," she agrees, "hey, it's going to be awesome."
"It's always awesome with you."
"Shut the fuck up," she says, but she's smiling.
The first time she tries to put the harness on, she gets the straps all wrong, and she ends up on her back, laughing while Frank tries to get everything unraveled with his teeth and fingers. They give up eventually, crack open tiny bottles of whiskey from the minibar, and get giggly drunk. Frank fucks her with the harness hauled up, wrapped around her middle and pushed to one side between her legs, and they fall asleep without remembering to take it off. In the morning she's got a headache and red marks scoring her belly and the inside of her left thigh. It's a shitty beginning, but that's par for the course with them.
The next night, she comes out with the boys when they go to some promo thing at a radio station. The rude bitch who works at the front desk clearly is one of those girls who thinks she isn't good enough for Frank. Jamia waits for them to leave the booth, guiltily daydreaming about making Frank get a back piece that reads "FUCK YOU SHE'S AWESOME." Gothic letters, she decides, as the boys emerge. Frank veers off towards her, grinning already. With flames, maybe, she thinks, and then Frank leans in and says,
"We should try that idea again."
It takes her a second to catch on, because again? Her name on his chest doesn't really-- oh. That idea. Right. "Duh," she says. He kisses her, fast and familiar.
When they walk out, Frank flips the girl at the front desk the bird, low enough that she can't see but Jamia can - he cares way too much about the fans - and Jamia throws her head back and laughs. She grins back at the girl over her shoulder, thinking mine mine mine.
She practices putting the harness on while Frank showers. It takes a few tries, but she finally gets the straps running flat against her hips and around her ass, the dildo fit through the ring in the front and snug against her. It throws off her balance, a little, and when she shifts her hips she bursts out laughing at the sight of the dildo waving around. She's still giggling and wiping her eyes when Frank comes out of the shower. He starts laughing, too, when she shows him how it waggles, and that sets her off again, which sets him off again... She has to lean against the desk and hold her stomach, and Frank turns his back to compose himself. "You're such a fuck," she says, and walks back over. The dildo shifts back and forth, and she only holds back her giggles by sheer determination.
He yelps in a satisfying way when she pushes him down on the bed, and she crawls up over him. Her dick drags against his stomach, the bottom edge digging into her, and she has to reach down and adjust it before she can sit back on her heels and look at him. "This is so unsexy," she says.
Frank puts his hands behind his head and looks at her appraisingly. His eyes are suddenly serious, and she has to fight the urge to fidget. "I wouldn't say that," he says, "weird yeah, but not unsexy." He takes one hand off his head to trace the edge of her bra, then trails his fingertip down to the harness. "Pretty sexy, actually," he says, like he's making small talk about the weather, but his breath catches when she grabs his hand and pins it against the bed.
"You wanna fuck, then?" she says, and when did her voice get that low? Frank just nods. She shifts off the bed, and he squirms around to take off the towel wrapped around his hips. He's already half-hard. If she wasn't sure that he was into this before, that would convince her; they haven't done anything sexy, they haven't really even kissed. She stands there, lube and a condom in one hand, strapped into a harness, and just looks at him. He looks back at her, a half-smile on his face. Pretty as a picture, her tiny femmey boyfriend with his sprawling tattoos.
"I'm not--" he starts, and she nods.
"I know." Because she does: he's not gay and hiding it, he's not pretending it's someone else, he's not scared. He makes a face at her for interrupting him, but he doesn't finish the sentence, either, just leans back and waits for her to come over. She does, and they kiss while she's pouring lube out onto her hand.
She starts off with a finger, which they've done before. Frank relaxes fast, and she watches the muscle tighten briefly and release. The sparse hair around his asshole is already slicked down with lube, she's been so liberal with it, and her finger slides almost too easily. "Two?" she says, after he's started rocking his hips, and he nods.
He reaches up to drag a pillow from the top of the bed and pushes it under his ass while she drips just a little more lube on her fingers. The angle is better after that, and she doesn't have to try to brush against his prostate. She's always liked the texture, weirdly like the skin on her fingertips after a bath; lucky that she likes it, because just a light brush makes Frank shudder and shove his hips down towards her, makes him whine "three" high in his throat.
She doesn't draw her fingers out all the way this time, just upends the bottle over them and slides them back in, adding her ring finger. It's tighter, and she waits for a long moment, letting him adjust around her, feeling the hot soft skin inside him clutching and slowly relaxing. When she moves, he hisses softly, but when she tries to stop again he shakes his head. "You sure?" she says, quiet, almost whispering, and he breathes out "yeah, yeah, please."
She keeps it slow, and he rolls his hips toward her fingers, rocking her hand up into him, against his prostate again and again. She can't look away from his ass, from where her hand slides into his body. It's fucking intense, so hot how he stretches and tightens as she slides past the second knuckle, how smooth and stretched the skin is when she rubs over it with her thumb. His stomach is trembling when she puts her other hand on it. He's hard, but not really hard, and she brushes her thumb just under the head and says "too much?"
"No, god, no," he says, and she finally takes a good look at his face; his mouth is slack, lips bitten a deep red, and his eyes are only half-open. His eyelashes actually flutter when she presses against his prostate, and when she spreads her fingers he gasps "fuck me, please."
She'd almost forgotten about the strap-on, the odd weight falling to the back of her mind. She notices it again when she stands up, but it doesn't give her the giggles the way it did before. Her hands are shaking, and her fingers slip on the condom wrapper until she wipes her hand on the bedspread. She rolls it down over her dick slowly and slicks it up even more, spilling lube on the bed and down her wrist. Frank is watching her, eyes wide and dark, and she flushes under his gaze. Her boyfriend is watching her stroke her cock. Touring really will fuck you up, but right now she can't find fault with that.
She bought a bigger dildo than what came with the beginner's kit. It's a deep red, ridged with fake veins. She hadn't been sure when she bought it - too big? too weird-looking? - but now she's glad that she did. It feels strangely like a part of her, extra but not foreign in her hand, and there's something hot and right about her pushing Frank's limits, stretching him as wide with her cock as she did with her fingers. He puts his hands behind his knees when she settles on the bed, pulls them up and apart, and she presses the head up against his asshole.
Fantasy hadn't prepared her for the oddness of it, pushing into Frank with something that isn’t really part of her, or for how hot it is, watching him stretch open, watching his face shift from wonder to lust. She gets all the way in and stops. Frank reaches up and cups her breasts, rubbing her nipples through the fabric of her bra. "Frank," she says, her voice rough, and he slides his hands over to her sides, bringing her down to kiss. His cock is hard against her stomach, and hers shifts deeper into him; he keens into her mouth. She pulls back, nearly pulls out, and then pushes back in, slow, relishing the press of the base against her clit.
"Yes," Frank says, and then, "harder." She stops, braces herself next to his shoulders.
"Beg me." She meant it to be a demand, but it comes out more like a question.
"Please," he says, scraping his nails up her arms, "please, I want it, I'm a-- fuck, I'm a slut for you, you have to know, please--" and she drags out and slams back in, cutting him off. She's not used to doing this, so it's awkward at first, off-tempo, but then Frank gets his ankles hooked around her back and helps her, pulling her in and arching into her thrusts. He sobs when she gets it right, a broken sound.
He tucks his fingers under her bra straps and pulls her down, pushes himself up so their mouths can slide together. She licks his teeth, curls her tongue against his, and snaps her hips forward hard when she pulls away from his mouth. Frank falls onto his elbows and tips his head back. He looks blown open, shell-shocked. She follows the urge to tuck two fingers of her clean hand into his mouth. He moans, and his tongue slides against the pads of her fingertips. His lips twitch closed around them and fall open again.
She keeps fucking him, even though her hips are starting to get tired. She's addicted to the way he looks, how he sounds when her hips slam up against him. "Jerk yourself off," she grits out. He makes a sound around her fingers and wraps his hand around his cock like he's been waiting for her permission. His knuckles bump against her stomach. He curls his legs up closer to his chest.
She dips her head towards his ear. The angle is awkward but still workable, she can still roll into him. "What if Gerard was here?" she whispers, and when Frank's eyes snap open, "not fucking you, you're mine, no one fucks you but me." He groans and closes his eyes again, and she curls her fingers into his tongue. "Maybe he'd just watch me fuck you," she says, still quiet, and Frank's hand speeds up on his cock. She leans back and thrusts hard, shifting him up the bed, and says, "Maybe we'd get you on all fours-" Frank moans again- "and you'd suck him off while I fuck you. Think about it, rocking back and forth between us--"
Frank's back bows. His hand speeds up and then stills while he comes, spilling onto his hand and his belly, crying out her name.
She stays there, moving slower through his orgasm, feeling now just how tired her hips are. She hangs her head, and her hair is sweaty. Her arm trembles where she's bracing herself against the bed, and she pulls her fingers from his mouth to give herself more to lean on.
Frank eventually settles. His head rolls to the side, and his mouth shapes into a loose kiss against her wrist. "Love you," she says. She doesn't expect the words to come out of her mouth, though fuck if they're not true. "I-- fuck, I can't-- Frank--"
"I know," he says, glancing up at her, "c'mere." She pulls out, slow, strips off the condom and lets him fumble the harness loose, lets him take over tugging it down. "God, that was hot," he says, mouthing at her stomach.
"Yeah," she says, and when he drops his mouth to lick gently at her she pulls his hair a bit, says "don't tease, bitch." He smirks, but he doesn't fuck around after that, just circles his tongue on her clit and pushes two fingers into her cunt, sets up a rhythm that feels - oh god, it feels like how she fucked him, the same tempo, and that thought is enough to make her clench around his fingers, to make her come. The ache and the warmth she felt while she was fucking him draws together and pulls up tight through her middle, makes her legs shake and her fingers curl tight in his hair.
"Fuck," she says to the ceiling, when she's just trembling from aftershocks, gentle pulses around Frank's fingers still inside her. "I. Yeah."
"Yeah, no, exactly," Frank says, and drops his face against her stomach.
The next day, she follows the boys around sleepily, walking the puppy and hiding her bleary eyes behind sunglasses. Frank glances back at her more often than usual, and they share goofy smiles when their eyes catch. In the middle of the day, during their third coffee run, Frank comes over while she's waiting for her drink. He leans his chin on her shoulder and wraps his arm around her waist. "What's up?" she says.
"I can still feel you," he murmurs, "inside me," and she has to bite back a gasp.
"Good to know," she says, and he laughs and spins away, tackles Bob. Mine, she thinks, and it feels like her chest is going to crack from the lightness she feels expanding there, mine mine mine.
--------------
I wrote this in my 18th century lyric poetry class, so thanks to my graduate classmates for being on the ball about Milton while I was trying to figure out porn sequencing. Thank you to SIR Productions for putting together Bend Over Boyfriend and Bend Over Boyfriend 2: More Rockin', Less Talkin'. Thanks to MM, for various reasons. Thanks a frillion to offonmars for looking this over and reassuring me, you are a rockstar and a marvel, I heart you like a crazy person.
MCR. Frank/Jamia, a tiny smidgen of Frank/Gerard. Written for the bandslashmania pornathon.
NC-17 for strap-on sex, cursing, and the dreaded het. Feedback and concrit welcome.
Touring will fuck you up. She's not even in a band, and touring is fucking her up. She watches porn all the time, eats Cheetos for breakfast, drinks her lunch, and develops serious opinions about video games that she has no idea how to play. She hasn't even been out with the band for a week, and her jeans are already marked hem to waist with unidentifiable stains. She has a t-shirt with "Bob's my croquet BITCH" written on it in ketchup, for Christ's sake. Even worse, she can't bring herself to throw it out.
It's the porn that gets her into a mess, though. Frank's band is a bunch of nice guys, yeah, and they don't really party, but they have some seriously whacked-out taste in porn. There's a lot of it, tucked in between Argento films and Burton movies and Mikey's copy of The Last Unicorn - Deluxe Edition. There's all sorts of stuff: straight, gay, who-cares. Girls with glasses, girls who smoke, girls with tattoos. Barebacking and guys with piercings and cowboys. A whole series of arty stuff in black and white that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. There's even one with midgets (although Bob swears he bought it for a prank) and a couple of serious fetish tapes.
She's seen most of them. Some of them she can't make it all the way through - there's maybe something kind of un-p.c. about it, but there's only so much little people fucking she can take - but she can recognize most of them by the opening credits. The boys get used to her being around pretty fast, and they get used to how laid-back she is even faster, so there always seems to be porn going on in the background. After a while, she starts to watch it by herself, when she's bored and doesn't feel like watching Pirates of the Caribbean again. She likes porn, is the thing. Even when it isn't sexy, it's pretty fun.
She's actually looking for Pirates of the Caribbean when she finds the other DVD. The boys are out doing something, she didn't even ask, and she's too tired to go out and be sociable. She just wants Johnny Depp and microwave popcorn, but she can't find the damn movie. She thinks she has, when she feels the edge of a DVD box in the back, behind a messy pile of other movies. It takes some careful handling to get it out without toppling the whole stack over, but she manages. It's not Pirates of the Caribbean, though. It's Bend Over Boyfriend 2.
Of course she watches it.
It's not like it makes her want a dick. She's got a dick, complete with conveniently attached Frank, and she's perfectly happy with it and him. She loves her pussy, completely and without reservation.
But the video sticks with her. She thinks about it on the plane home, while she's walking the dogs, while she's making dinner for herself in the too-quiet house. At first it's just the memory of the one couple, the man arching up under the woman, the way the muscles in his thighs stood out under his skin when she pushed in, her fingers digging into the flesh of his ass. But then she starts to wonder what the dildo looked like going into his ass, and from there it's just a short jump to wondering what it felt like for the girl.
After three days of thinking about it, she gives up on denial and starts thinking about what it would feel like if she did it to Frank.
After two weeks of thinking about that, she starts reading up on pegging online.
After another week, she orders a beginner's kit. She hasn't even asked Frank if he wants to do it, yet; but when she thinks about the video, about where it was hidden, what it was hidden behind, she thinks asking isn't really going to be the problem. She's still nervous about it, though.
"Sure," he says, when she finally calls. "You're coming in Thursday, right?"
"Yeah. You're a little squeaky, hon'."
"I'm not!" His voice cracks on "not," and he clears his throat. She can hear Bob jeering in the background. "I'm not."
"You've been thinking about this a lot, right? You're a little squeaky."
He's silent for a minute. She waits him out. "Yeah."
"I found the video." He doesn't respond. "I'm pretty sure it's yours."
"Yeah," he says again, and she can practically hear his blush. "Whatever, it's not like you're surprised."
"No," she agrees, "hey, it's going to be awesome."
"It's always awesome with you."
"Shut the fuck up," she says, but she's smiling.
The first time she tries to put the harness on, she gets the straps all wrong, and she ends up on her back, laughing while Frank tries to get everything unraveled with his teeth and fingers. They give up eventually, crack open tiny bottles of whiskey from the minibar, and get giggly drunk. Frank fucks her with the harness hauled up, wrapped around her middle and pushed to one side between her legs, and they fall asleep without remembering to take it off. In the morning she's got a headache and red marks scoring her belly and the inside of her left thigh. It's a shitty beginning, but that's par for the course with them.
The next night, she comes out with the boys when they go to some promo thing at a radio station. The rude bitch who works at the front desk clearly is one of those girls who thinks she isn't good enough for Frank. Jamia waits for them to leave the booth, guiltily daydreaming about making Frank get a back piece that reads "FUCK YOU SHE'S AWESOME." Gothic letters, she decides, as the boys emerge. Frank veers off towards her, grinning already. With flames, maybe, she thinks, and then Frank leans in and says,
"We should try that idea again."
It takes her a second to catch on, because again? Her name on his chest doesn't really-- oh. That idea. Right. "Duh," she says. He kisses her, fast and familiar.
When they walk out, Frank flips the girl at the front desk the bird, low enough that she can't see but Jamia can - he cares way too much about the fans - and Jamia throws her head back and laughs. She grins back at the girl over her shoulder, thinking mine mine mine.
She practices putting the harness on while Frank showers. It takes a few tries, but she finally gets the straps running flat against her hips and around her ass, the dildo fit through the ring in the front and snug against her. It throws off her balance, a little, and when she shifts her hips she bursts out laughing at the sight of the dildo waving around. She's still giggling and wiping her eyes when Frank comes out of the shower. He starts laughing, too, when she shows him how it waggles, and that sets her off again, which sets him off again... She has to lean against the desk and hold her stomach, and Frank turns his back to compose himself. "You're such a fuck," she says, and walks back over. The dildo shifts back and forth, and she only holds back her giggles by sheer determination.
He yelps in a satisfying way when she pushes him down on the bed, and she crawls up over him. Her dick drags against his stomach, the bottom edge digging into her, and she has to reach down and adjust it before she can sit back on her heels and look at him. "This is so unsexy," she says.
Frank puts his hands behind his head and looks at her appraisingly. His eyes are suddenly serious, and she has to fight the urge to fidget. "I wouldn't say that," he says, "weird yeah, but not unsexy." He takes one hand off his head to trace the edge of her bra, then trails his fingertip down to the harness. "Pretty sexy, actually," he says, like he's making small talk about the weather, but his breath catches when she grabs his hand and pins it against the bed.
"You wanna fuck, then?" she says, and when did her voice get that low? Frank just nods. She shifts off the bed, and he squirms around to take off the towel wrapped around his hips. He's already half-hard. If she wasn't sure that he was into this before, that would convince her; they haven't done anything sexy, they haven't really even kissed. She stands there, lube and a condom in one hand, strapped into a harness, and just looks at him. He looks back at her, a half-smile on his face. Pretty as a picture, her tiny femmey boyfriend with his sprawling tattoos.
"I'm not--" he starts, and she nods.
"I know." Because she does: he's not gay and hiding it, he's not pretending it's someone else, he's not scared. He makes a face at her for interrupting him, but he doesn't finish the sentence, either, just leans back and waits for her to come over. She does, and they kiss while she's pouring lube out onto her hand.
She starts off with a finger, which they've done before. Frank relaxes fast, and she watches the muscle tighten briefly and release. The sparse hair around his asshole is already slicked down with lube, she's been so liberal with it, and her finger slides almost too easily. "Two?" she says, after he's started rocking his hips, and he nods.
He reaches up to drag a pillow from the top of the bed and pushes it under his ass while she drips just a little more lube on her fingers. The angle is better after that, and she doesn't have to try to brush against his prostate. She's always liked the texture, weirdly like the skin on her fingertips after a bath; lucky that she likes it, because just a light brush makes Frank shudder and shove his hips down towards her, makes him whine "three" high in his throat.
She doesn't draw her fingers out all the way this time, just upends the bottle over them and slides them back in, adding her ring finger. It's tighter, and she waits for a long moment, letting him adjust around her, feeling the hot soft skin inside him clutching and slowly relaxing. When she moves, he hisses softly, but when she tries to stop again he shakes his head. "You sure?" she says, quiet, almost whispering, and he breathes out "yeah, yeah, please."
She keeps it slow, and he rolls his hips toward her fingers, rocking her hand up into him, against his prostate again and again. She can't look away from his ass, from where her hand slides into his body. It's fucking intense, so hot how he stretches and tightens as she slides past the second knuckle, how smooth and stretched the skin is when she rubs over it with her thumb. His stomach is trembling when she puts her other hand on it. He's hard, but not really hard, and she brushes her thumb just under the head and says "too much?"
"No, god, no," he says, and she finally takes a good look at his face; his mouth is slack, lips bitten a deep red, and his eyes are only half-open. His eyelashes actually flutter when she presses against his prostate, and when she spreads her fingers he gasps "fuck me, please."
She'd almost forgotten about the strap-on, the odd weight falling to the back of her mind. She notices it again when she stands up, but it doesn't give her the giggles the way it did before. Her hands are shaking, and her fingers slip on the condom wrapper until she wipes her hand on the bedspread. She rolls it down over her dick slowly and slicks it up even more, spilling lube on the bed and down her wrist. Frank is watching her, eyes wide and dark, and she flushes under his gaze. Her boyfriend is watching her stroke her cock. Touring really will fuck you up, but right now she can't find fault with that.
She bought a bigger dildo than what came with the beginner's kit. It's a deep red, ridged with fake veins. She hadn't been sure when she bought it - too big? too weird-looking? - but now she's glad that she did. It feels strangely like a part of her, extra but not foreign in her hand, and there's something hot and right about her pushing Frank's limits, stretching him as wide with her cock as she did with her fingers. He puts his hands behind his knees when she settles on the bed, pulls them up and apart, and she presses the head up against his asshole.
Fantasy hadn't prepared her for the oddness of it, pushing into Frank with something that isn’t really part of her, or for how hot it is, watching him stretch open, watching his face shift from wonder to lust. She gets all the way in and stops. Frank reaches up and cups her breasts, rubbing her nipples through the fabric of her bra. "Frank," she says, her voice rough, and he slides his hands over to her sides, bringing her down to kiss. His cock is hard against her stomach, and hers shifts deeper into him; he keens into her mouth. She pulls back, nearly pulls out, and then pushes back in, slow, relishing the press of the base against her clit.
"Yes," Frank says, and then, "harder." She stops, braces herself next to his shoulders.
"Beg me." She meant it to be a demand, but it comes out more like a question.
"Please," he says, scraping his nails up her arms, "please, I want it, I'm a-- fuck, I'm a slut for you, you have to know, please--" and she drags out and slams back in, cutting him off. She's not used to doing this, so it's awkward at first, off-tempo, but then Frank gets his ankles hooked around her back and helps her, pulling her in and arching into her thrusts. He sobs when she gets it right, a broken sound.
He tucks his fingers under her bra straps and pulls her down, pushes himself up so their mouths can slide together. She licks his teeth, curls her tongue against his, and snaps her hips forward hard when she pulls away from his mouth. Frank falls onto his elbows and tips his head back. He looks blown open, shell-shocked. She follows the urge to tuck two fingers of her clean hand into his mouth. He moans, and his tongue slides against the pads of her fingertips. His lips twitch closed around them and fall open again.
She keeps fucking him, even though her hips are starting to get tired. She's addicted to the way he looks, how he sounds when her hips slam up against him. "Jerk yourself off," she grits out. He makes a sound around her fingers and wraps his hand around his cock like he's been waiting for her permission. His knuckles bump against her stomach. He curls his legs up closer to his chest.
She dips her head towards his ear. The angle is awkward but still workable, she can still roll into him. "What if Gerard was here?" she whispers, and when Frank's eyes snap open, "not fucking you, you're mine, no one fucks you but me." He groans and closes his eyes again, and she curls her fingers into his tongue. "Maybe he'd just watch me fuck you," she says, still quiet, and Frank's hand speeds up on his cock. She leans back and thrusts hard, shifting him up the bed, and says, "Maybe we'd get you on all fours-" Frank moans again- "and you'd suck him off while I fuck you. Think about it, rocking back and forth between us--"
Frank's back bows. His hand speeds up and then stills while he comes, spilling onto his hand and his belly, crying out her name.
She stays there, moving slower through his orgasm, feeling now just how tired her hips are. She hangs her head, and her hair is sweaty. Her arm trembles where she's bracing herself against the bed, and she pulls her fingers from his mouth to give herself more to lean on.
Frank eventually settles. His head rolls to the side, and his mouth shapes into a loose kiss against her wrist. "Love you," she says. She doesn't expect the words to come out of her mouth, though fuck if they're not true. "I-- fuck, I can't-- Frank--"
"I know," he says, glancing up at her, "c'mere." She pulls out, slow, strips off the condom and lets him fumble the harness loose, lets him take over tugging it down. "God, that was hot," he says, mouthing at her stomach.
"Yeah," she says, and when he drops his mouth to lick gently at her she pulls his hair a bit, says "don't tease, bitch." He smirks, but he doesn't fuck around after that, just circles his tongue on her clit and pushes two fingers into her cunt, sets up a rhythm that feels - oh god, it feels like how she fucked him, the same tempo, and that thought is enough to make her clench around his fingers, to make her come. The ache and the warmth she felt while she was fucking him draws together and pulls up tight through her middle, makes her legs shake and her fingers curl tight in his hair.
"Fuck," she says to the ceiling, when she's just trembling from aftershocks, gentle pulses around Frank's fingers still inside her. "I. Yeah."
"Yeah, no, exactly," Frank says, and drops his face against her stomach.
The next day, she follows the boys around sleepily, walking the puppy and hiding her bleary eyes behind sunglasses. Frank glances back at her more often than usual, and they share goofy smiles when their eyes catch. In the middle of the day, during their third coffee run, Frank comes over while she's waiting for her drink. He leans his chin on her shoulder and wraps his arm around her waist. "What's up?" she says.
"I can still feel you," he murmurs, "inside me," and she has to bite back a gasp.
"Good to know," she says, and he laughs and spins away, tackles Bob. Mine, she thinks, and it feels like her chest is going to crack from the lightness she feels expanding there, mine mine mine.
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I wrote this in my 18th century lyric poetry class, so thanks to my graduate classmates for being on the ball about Milton while I was trying to figure out porn sequencing. Thank you to SIR Productions for putting together Bend Over Boyfriend and Bend Over Boyfriend 2: More Rockin', Less Talkin'. Thanks to MM, for various reasons. Thanks a frillion to offonmars for looking this over and reassuring me, you are a rockstar and a marvel, I heart you like a crazy person.