Author: Ayrki and Lex 'Spork' Tenou
Feedback address: firstname.lastname@example.org & email@example.com
Date in Calendar: 30 June 2007
Summary: A brief interlude in a life filled with love.
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DD07
Disclaimer: All original ideas are distributed under the CreativeCommons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License. For more information on the Creative Commons License, visit CreativeCommons.org.
Note: You'd like to know, wouldn't you?
My hands are sure and steady at their appointed task just up until I feel the brush of your breath against my neck as I pause, sensing you near. A bare moment later and your hands settle upon my hips, tugging me lightly back into the snug press of your body. Nuzzling my shoulders, you don't say anything as one of your hands leaves my waist to cover mine on the counter, your left flattening against my stomach, slipping beneath my shirt to seek skin as I inhale reflexively. I've long since stopped asking how you simply know every touch to drive me wild, how instinctively your fingers find the places of sensitivity to hitch my breath and arrest my pulse.
Leaning back into you, my eyes falling closed at the feel of you even as your fingers slip between the fabric of my pants and warm skin, your name exhaled across my lips, a hint of a plea already in my voice. You withdraw long enough only to unfasten my pants before your fingers return to me, seeking the wetness always there for you and as you find it, you groan into my neck. Purring in response, I can't help but smile and chuckle softly as I grip the edge of the counter.
"Thinking about me?" Your voice is quiet, not necessarily soft, but not yet roughened with our passion.
"Always," comes my easy response, the familiar word accompanied by a grin without restraint. My breath catches in my throat as you press your fingers against me, half a whimper released within my gasp, my hips pressing against your fingers. Within moments as you roll the hardened nub of my clit between your forefinger and thumb, I'm gasping, a short cry pulled from me before I can even think to contain it. Then as your fingers drift away, seeking more liquid warmth, I change the game, turning in your arms with a swiftness that surprises even you, I think.
My mouth is upon yours then, my tongue quick to press the advantage and seek your tongue, exploring familiar terrain as I go. Brushing aside the remnants of a task long forgotten, I brace my hands on the counter and hoist myself up, mouth still fastened to yours as I pull you with me. I've even more of a height advantage now, but still I draw you close, my arms draping around your shoulders, even as my legs come to lock around your hips. Grinning down at you as I release your mouth, I brush my nose against yours.
Falling to my thighs, your hands grip the tensing muscle beneath your palms as you regard me for a long moment, giving a quirk of a smile of your own. Then, fingers quick and deft, you unbutton yet another of my countless shirts of this button-up style -and you wonder why I favour them... Once enough skin has been exposed, your mouth finds my collar bone, your lips and tongue quick to map the dip and curve of my shoulder. Returning to my waist, you pull on my hips sharply, bringing me to the edge, but more importantly, hard against you.
Hand finding the counter directly behind my hip, you brace your weight as you lean into me, your other returning to its earlier chosen refuge. Your fingers slide into me easily, finding a home in the slick heat that always waits for you, always is wanting of your touch. As your fingers fill me, my head tips back, granting your mouth better access at the same time as I groan. The sound becomes a whimper as you withdraw again, this time I drop my head back down to level you with a questioning look, half perturbed in the process as I quirk an eyebrow.
You grin easily, your hands returning to my waist, tugging at the fabric of my pants. "Lift your hips. And you'll have to let go of me." My gaze clearly is unimpressed, causing you to chuckle. "Just trust me, m'love," comes your teasing, affectionate request.
"And have you any idea how cold that counter is going to be against my ass?" I retort. But even as I heckle you, I'm complying, releasing your hips and letting you guide my pants from my body as I shift out of them. I don't even think about it, about your intention, as you draw the black trousers down my legs and let them drop to the floor, pausing to press a kiss to the inside of my knee. The nudge given to the very same joint and exhale of breath against the soft skin of my inner thigh, however, exposes it clear as day to me as my eyes widen. Again, before I can react, your hands have returned to my hips, tugged me close enough to the edge of the counter once again, and then your mouth is on me.
I'm left gasping for air, one arm having to reach out behind me to brace against as the other moulds itself to the back of your skull, my hips pressing in response to the flicker of your tongue. As you find my clit once again, I cry out loudly, unable to even think of not voicing my pleasure. "Oh god," I manage to exhale, and then I fear they will be my last coherent words as your mouth begins with purpose, your tongue relentless.
Calling out again, I can barely even keep myself with any resemblance to upright, a whimpering moan pulled from me with the languid strokes of your tongue. As always, its too much, too fast, and I've no hope in unholy hell of standing against it. As always, every time I have your mouth upon me, lips and tongue, and a too intense suction, I can barely hold out before I'm coming for you. I try so hard to hang on, but it's too much, you feel too good upon me and just barely after you've begun, I'm yelling out your name and roaring out a shattering release. But you're not satisfied with only that, your mouth still on me, your tongue still tormenting me even as I tighten around you.
Maybe someday, I'll be able to look at you and not be struck through with intense need, a driving burn of desire that renders me, who makes my way with words, speechless. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to watch you and not feel the remembered insistent heat of your desire pressed against my skin.
Today is so not that day.
You're not even doing anything, just standing at the kitchen counter, engaged in something I can't see from around your body. Your hands move steadily, with sure movements, your arms, toned from hours of work and play, drifting across the counter and I'm lost. I can't stop myself from stepping forward, my arms coming 'round to rest my hands upon your hips. Your movements still for a split second, a brief hiccup in your steady movements that tell me, yes, I am doing this in just the right way to completely arrest your thought process.
Dropping my head to nuzzle my mouth against your shoulder, brushing innumerable soft kisses against you, my hand drifts from your waist to seek the warm skin I crave, hidden beneath one of your countless button up shirts. My other hand runs down the length of your arm, coming to rest atop the hand you have pressed flat against the counter, a connection and support all in one.
A satisfied smile curves my lips as I press against your back, secure in knowing that I am already driving you out of your mind; its the norm with us, after all. Your hitched breath, obvious beneath the firm press of my fingers against your stomach, puts me almost immediately in mind of what we did on the couch yesterday. Gods above, that had been intense. Such a wonderful way to waken.
Your soft cry, my name whispered in the calm air of our kitchen, is my aural reward as I delve into what is reserved for me and me alone. Your cries and whimpers are all the impetus I require in this, all the situational consent needed. Closing my eyes and resting my cheek against the soft flow of your hair, my fingers deftly unfasten your trousers to allow me just enough room to ascertain what I already know. Soft, warm skin gives way to heated slickness, making my breath shudder from me in a deep groan at the familiar enveloping of your desire around me. Your answering purr brings a heated smile to my lips, as does the flexing of your hand beneath mine, gripping the counter as my finger flicks near the sensitive nub where you ache for my touch. My smile deepens to a full smirk at the breathlessness of your soft laughter.
"Thinking about me?" My own desire is starkly exposed in the quiet, low tone of my voice.
"Always." Your response is part of our mantra, born of our honest need for one another, a simple exchange of words that captures slightly all that we are. I love you desperately and completely, and in these actions, I can show some small part of all I feel for you.
Deliberately, my fingers press into you, slipping into heated wetness and caressing over where you crave me. Your low gasp, punctuated by a muffled whimper, tells me as much about your need as the way your hips seek out my touch. I do so love making you need me, making you crave me with every breath. Steadily, deliberately, my finger and thumb find your clit, applying the pressure that draws a vocal cry from the depths of your chest. The way you feel beneath my touch is itself enough to drive me mad, the flood of wetness that greets my touch enough to make my mouth water.
As I shift to feel the full extent of your slick heat, you pull a rapid fire change that would surprise me if it weren't par for the course with us. Turning in my arms, you capture my mouth before I can react, claiming me in a torrid kiss. I don't pay heed to the movements you make until your body lifts, your tensed arms relaxing enough to deposit you safely on the counter you'd been working upon. Perhaps it's the need we've for one another, but our kiss is unbroken as you gain a bit more height on me. I'd bitch about you lording your grand few centimeters over me, but the press of your lips and tongue into me is enough to blank my mind.
All too soon, just before rendering me absolutely mindless, you pull back, grinning at me as you rub your nose against mine in an affectionate caress. The shining twinkle in your deep blue eyes sends a bolt of pure heat right through me, my fingers digging into the firm muscle of your thighs. The insistent press of your kiss into me almost made me forget that which I wish to feel. Firmly regaining my grasp on my control, my lip quirks into a slight smile and one hand raises to slip the flat buttons through their holes, my eyes tracking over the exposed skin as my grin grows more salacious with each bit of smooth skin I reveal to my hungry gaze. Just enough is exposed to allow me free access to the curve of your shoulder, giving me the freedom to begin at your clavicle and continue over the smooth line of your bared shoulder.
For my purposes, I need you closer. Tugging sharply, your hips slide on the counter, resting just on the edge, snugly against me. I have to feel you again.
My hands drop from your shirt, one holding me up as the other returns home, finding and burying my fingers deep within your tight wet heat. Closing my eyes, I exhale a shuddering breath against your shoulder at the feeling of abject bliss at being wrapped in you. I could stay here forever, engulfed in your desire for me, but then I wouldn't get to do what I had planned. The single thought that had drawn me from the warm embrace of our bed to find you.
Pulling from you, my mind firmly on what is to come, I meet your questioning gaze with an easy grin, secure in the knowledge that you will like this, even if you won't get where I'm going at first.
"Lift your hips." After a bare moment, I add, "And you'll have to let go of me." Chuckling at your 'say what?!' expression, I nudge you with my hips. "Just trust me, m'love."
Shaking your head, your petulant retort is exactly what I expect. "And have you any idea how cold that counter is going to be against my ass?" I'm quite sure I do know, but I'm also highly certain that within a minute, you won't care. Your hips lift, allowing me to pull the loose trousers from your body, dropping into a crouch to work them free of your feet. I drop them aside with yet another unspoken thanks for your absolute distaste for underwear as I am directly at eye level with the core of your passion. My lips curve in a knowing grin and I press a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, before nudging it aside with my cheek. My warm breath is drifting along your bare skin, making a fine tremble set in along your limbs as you realize what I'm going to do.
Barely does the knowledge wash over you before my mouth is where I've craved it to be since I woke alone in our bed. Delving into the slick heat that's been on my mind since forever, your hand curves around my skull, holding me in place against you, allowing you purchase to push into my tongue. Smiling, my tongue spears through your slickness, flicking upward and caressing lightly over your clit. Your fingers press against my head almost bruisingly, your need drawing a softly exhaled "oh god" from your throat.
Closing my eyes, I set myself to exploring and running over every last bit of your wetness, flicking strongly over your clit before lowering back to push slightly into you, the rich taste that is purely you washing over me. Before I know it, you're trembling and coming beneath my touch, the welcome caress of my tongue drawing a shout from you, echoing in our kitchen as I continue loving you.
It's not like orgasm has ever stopped us. Continuing my abject worship of you, you're soon giving yourself to me again, your hoarse cry accompanied by the stiffening of your entire frame, one leg wrapped around my shoulder and pulling me tightly against you. Long soothing strokes of my tongue against you bring you back to yourself, restoring you to yourself enough to allow me to pull my mouth from you at long last. Softly, I press gentle kisses over your hip, up your heaving stomach, past the soft curve of your breasts, over the tantalizing temptation of your neck, until I'm close enough that you seek out my lips with your kiss, insistent and demanding against me.
Your tongue darts into my mouth before I can think, wrapping around my own and drawing a deep groan from me. My hands are firm on your bare thighs as I tear my mouth from your own and meet your gaze with a dark grin.
-end of interlude-