[ When she wakes, wet with arousal, the body she's wrapped around is still and his breaths deep. It's an ungodly hour, she's quick to realize. Not a hint of light outside.
He shifts when she gets up for a glass of water and a wee. Laying down again is futile; she doesn't sleep. Lying next to his body only serves to deepen the vicious ache in her cunt. Her thighs rub together.
Daddy had forbidden her from bringing herself to climax without permission. But ... he didn't forbid her from using him as a means to that end.
She tests how deeply he's asleep by snuggling into his side, a leg across his hip, then rubbing her wetness onto his skin. When he doesn't stir, she becomes both wicked and desperate -- reaching a hand down to his cock, her fingers slipping along the ridges, coaxing him to firmness. He has fucked her awake multiple times. She can be forgiven this. Right? ]
[The events of the day have worn Nate out, mind whirring even in deep sleep. He's processing everything through vivid dreams. Typically, he doesn't sleep this pleasantly. Since Francesca arrived in his bed, he's slept comfortably and heavily.
As such, he doesn't stir when she snuggles in and rubs against him. It just adds a pleasant layer to his dream. What does stir is his cock, firming eagerly in her hand. Trained to her touch. He exhales, brows furrowing and cock twitching in her hand, but he's still asleep.
By the time he wakes, there's a much more complicated scene to process. He feels the weight of her on his chest, her lips and hands on his cock. The pleasure he feels is dreamlike, but the sensations are very real. Without giving her any indication that he's woken up, he shifts slowly under her and catches her thighs. His thumbs spread her further apart for him and he leans in, running his tongue up her soft, wet folds.]
[ She's got her lips around the head of his cock, aroused by his hips shifting, straining up to her hot mouth. Her fingers aren't idle, running up and down. Listening to the soft hiss of his breath in sleep.
His pleasure makes hers less important, secondary. And she knows how to please him; he's been a fine teacher in more ways than one. A mentor, if you will.
When he makes his consciousness known, she makes a soft noise of alarm around him. Jerking forward, just slightly, her thighs held by his large hands and not giving. She's so wet, that now that he's exposed the cleft of her cunt, it drools onto his chest.
Francesca whimpers, pressing her hips back, craving more. Dropping his cock, she manages to look over her shoulder. All hunger, in the shaft of moonlight that cuts across her face. ]
[Given infinite jerk off material and creative freedom, Nate could not create a more perfect way to wake up than this. He's woken her up similarly, he expects it of himself. She's beautiful, her body is perfect and she offers herself very willingly. Silly not to indulge. The fact that she also feels inclined to take command of his cock-- the fact that she needs him before he's awake-- it just flat lines him.
He doesn't have anything coherent to say, just a deeply pleased groan that reverberates over her skin. He laps his tongue deep into her, using his hands to encourage her hips to grind. When he eats her, it's like he's savouring and enjoying something delicious. He sucks at her flesh, adding to the mess thanks to the fact that he's drooling past his tongue.
He studies her as she looks over at him, committing the moment to memory. He makes an aching sound, enjoying her face but wanting her lips on his cock again.]
[ She understands. She can read his body by now, his tells both when he's aroused and when he is close to climax.
Francesca goes back to her work. Tongue flat, she licks a stripe up his cock, eating up the line of precum that pearls and spills. Hungrily, sighing her appreciation. Her lips pop the head back into her mouth, sinking down his length. Careful not to use too much teeth.
Her body shakes and grinds from pleasure, moaning around his cock while he eats her out. It's hard to focus on sucking him off when he's lapping inside her cunt, hips rocking back against his face. ]
[Every day, Nate discovers at least one new thing about his girl. Today, aside from deeper revelations, he's learned that she can squirt and that she has a very pretty, pink asshole. He feels deeply perverted, but he is nose to nose with it right now.
He hasn't experimented much with this area. He's still showing her so many other things-- but he's very impressed with her moxy and her talented mouth.
His groans are appreciative, muffled by her cunt. His tongue drags further and further back until it swirls the rim of her asshole. He flicks the tip of it over her hole, increasing the pressure gradually. His thumbs shift deeper, spreading her further apart as he notches himself closer in. Satisfied with this, he drops a hand so he can start to pump two fingers in her pussy.]
[ Fran is none the wiser where this is headed. Until his tongue is flicking the circle of her asshole. She starts in surprise, the sensation unlike anything else they've tried. He's palmed her ass, he's told -- promised -- her mid-fuck that he was going to pound her ass one day, but they haven't done anything along those lines. His vow turned her on in the moment, but she's not thought much on it since.
For all the times she's gotten herself off, she's never put anything in there. It didn't interest her before. It does now, his tongue prodding against her flaring hole. His fingers stuffing themselves in her other.
He's going to make her black out. She has a hazy thought that she may squirt again. The memory of the intense pleasure makes her tremble with anticipation. It would drench his chin, his mouth.
Her efforts on his cock double, her moans swallowed up by it, drooling around his girth. Helps her to swallow him deeper. ]
[He hisses the words over her hole, like speaking is painful. It almost is, his cock is twitching and dying to release in her mouth. He can't. The way her cunt clenches and drips over his fingers means he's on a mission.]
You taste perfect.
[He whispers it over her rim, deliberately warm and breathy. He flattens his tongue over her, rubbing it back and forth in time with the curl of his fingers.]
[ His praise sandwiched in dirty talk undoes her. He has warning this time -- the muscles in her calves and stomach tighten, her toes curl. Unmoored by desire, she half-sobs and half-chokes around his cock, the tip bumping against the back of her throat.
It's not as wet as in the greenhouse, but the curl of his fingers does the trick: a stream that trickles down his fingers, over his wrist. ]
[Nate inhales sharply, feeling her clench in that same way. So tight it nearly pushes him out, but he's ready for it now and he keeps his fingertips pulsing against her wall. Pretty soon she's dripping down his wrist and chin and onto his face.
Lost in it, he withdraws his fingers and clenches his hands around her ass firmly. He holds her backside in place, cleaning her with wide and long strokes of his tongue. She tastes sweet and salty, he's becoming very familiar with her flavour. His hips undulate up into her mouth, fucking her lips gently and slowly.
He's starting to growl and his hips twitch, telltale signs that he's getting close to coming down her throat.]
[ She feels weak from the euphoric pleasure that holds her in its grip for several moments, unable to do much beyond offer her mouth for fucking. The salt of his precum jogs her to act.
The most primal side of her yawns awake. There's only one place he should be coming, and it's not down her throat.
In a deft movement, she pries herself away from his tongue and hands to perch on his stomach, holding his cock to maneuver it between swollen lips. The familiar stretch of taking her lover makes her shudder out a breath of contentment. Her cunt is so well lubricated he just slides right into her, her muscles rippling around him.
Intently, with no hesitation, her hips move, grinding down with every swish. Her head throws back. ]
[So absorbed by the chase for his own release, Nate does not predict her next move. How could he? Every time he thinks he can read her, she thrills him.
He makes a soft, disappointed sound as she pulls her backside away from him. It fades into a sigh as she positions his cock and sinks easily on him. He sees stars when she envelopes him with her warmth, his perfect fit. He hisses:]
Fuck, Francesca.
[Exasperated, but so proud and thrilled by her. He wants to savour her and he grips at her thighs from behind her, but he feels he barely lasts a moment inside her. He bucks his hips up, grunting as he comes deep inside her. Through his orgasm, his heart flutters eagerly, hoping this one finds her pregnant. He sags back, exerted and tired but so fulfilled.]
[ Eating it up, she rides him through his orgasm, soft sighs and tender murmurs of love and gratitude spilling from her. The last throes of her own release are around his cock.
He softens. She lifts herself from the seat of his cock, slowly, afraid his spend will slip from her otherwise -- climbing to lay beside him on her back, fingers between her legs, careful to push his cum back into herself. Proves difficult in the aftermath of climaxing. She emits an exasperated sound of her own, clearly unimpressed, but awards him with a fond look and crinkle of her nose. She draws her legs up to her chest. Clearly this baby business is serious. ]
[Nate murmurs, turning his head to watch her perform her ritual fondly. He curls himself toward her, scooting down enough that he can reach her belly.
He cups a hand over it tenderly, pressing a kiss to the softest part of it. He hums, completely content and unafraid of how eagerly she wants children and change and commitment. It's effortless with her and for her, which reminds him to determine if he has the materials he needs to make her a ring.
A thought for later, he's happy where he is and he could almost sleep with his head rested here on her.]
There's probably vitamins we could get you started on. Folic acid. [He brushes his lips over her bellybutton.]
Start feeding you more, too. [But maybe he's thinking too far ahead--]
[ Her long fingers nest in his hair, brushing over his scalp. Her heart skips at the vision of him curled up around her stomach -- however flat it may be now.
Her mouth quirks, somehow surprised to find he has thought far enough into this to have such specific suggestions. Maybe it shouldn't; he's a father already, but a part of her assumed he would not be so eager for this as she is. New as it is, this fierce want for a family. She's always wanted children, but she didn't imagine starting so soon, but it feels perfectly normal now. ]
We deer don't eat much. [ Dry. ]
Some. I don't think I would like a big wedding. I was thinking something small? Courthouse?
[The chapters of his life involving children seemed long behind Nate. His own daughter is close to Francesca's age, so the notion at times makes him feel an existential guilt.
He hadn't felt any desire for more, save for missing aspects of Hope's childhood and regretting not being there for more. She was not planned and thus, she and his wife had fit around him and not the other way around. No big surprise it didn't work long term. It was his fault.
But he feels renewed vigour for many things with Francesca in his life. He feels they're rushing, but it never feels reckless. It feels efficient, which is probably for the best given his age. He'd like to give her good years of co-parenting, he has to be realistic about the finite amount of time for that.
He smiles against her skin at her comment, thinking about it.]
Could do it here. In the forest. With a celebrant.
[He brushes his fingers idly over the skin of her thighs.]
[ She feels the curve of his mouth and hers responds to it, smiling up at the ceiling. The fan spins above them.
His age, admittedly, has quite a part to play in why she's charging into this, but it's not the sole driver. She isn't a person that performs by impulses, or follows whims only to become bored by them later. Francesca thinks things over with great care, but she listens to her heart and then sees it through.
She's always been cut from that cloth. Stubborn, maybe. Self-possessed? Very. Steady and steely, she'd found a kindred soul in Nathan.
She hesitates at the question. The Question. ]
I told El. We're closest and she knew something was going on. I swore her to secrecy. And if she told Ben, then they'd all know because he smokes too much, and my mobile would be buzzing off the table right now.
[ Her fingers had been stroking his hair. They pause. ]
I don't want them to ... [ it's not ruin it but ] Intrude on this yet. I want you to myself. Just a little while longer.
[It's not that he's taken the size of her family for granted, but the reality of it sinks in a little when she runs through names. Visions of Christmas dinners and birthday parties run through his mind, none pleasant, though he strongly suspects they feel similarly.
When her hand stills, he reaches for it, pressing his lips against it. He turns his head to glance up at her, smiling slyly.]
I haven't told my folks about you either. [They're dead and it's a joke, but he wants her to feel understood.]
I like what we have. With us. [Just us.]
I don't want to put a rift between you and them, either. But if you're happy.. [He trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence but feeling she will understand implicitly.]
[ She gives him a side glance for the joke, wrinkling her nose again.
The last part moves her to nudge him onto his back, sitting up to cradle his face between her hands. She knows her family is a lot. She's the first person to admit it.
Her expression is adoring, openly tender and reassuring. ]
I'm happy. I am very, very happy. And that's all that will matter to them, in the end.
[Feeling like a large dog being cowed into submission by a kitten, Nate rolls onto his back for her. He slots his hands over hers when she cups his face, heart racing just seeing the look on her face. He returns it, soft and content. Heavy-lidded from being a little tired and well-fucked.]
I haven't felt as happy as I have the last few days for fifty-two fucking years. If you're happy, I'm happy. [He smiles shyly at her.]
And I'll do anything to keep you that way. [He traces his thumbs over her hands.]
Even if it means trying to explain how we met over family dinner. One day.
[ Her words are soft, leaning down to press her forehead to his.
She blushes prettily at the reminder of their first introductions, not exactly family friendly, and buries her face into his neck. It isn't shame or regret making her shy. Nobody wants to hear she met the love of her life and then let him deflower her in the backseat of his truck. How salacious.
Unwinding her limbs, she stretches out against his side, content as a cat nuzzled into his warmth. He's like a space heater. ]
[Stroking her hair, they lie curled together for a long time until Nate sees fit to roll her over and keep working on their project.
The next morning, he presents her a ring over breakfast. He says it's temporary and he'll find a nicer one, she doesn't want another one. Weeks pass by and simple plans are made. There's a celebrant, a forest and a wedding arch covered in hydrangeas that they worked on together. She wears a very beautiful dress, so he wears a suit. When the celebrant leaves, Nate has a playlist of songs carefully curated by Francesca playing softly. They dance under fairy lights together in the garden and eat cake with her sitting in his lap. He carries her upstairs and to the bedroom, where he peels off her dress and worships her body for hours.
Barely a few days later, they're in New Zealand for their honeymoon for a wedding nobody knows they've had. Francesca seems a little tired. It was a long flight (though she spent most of it with her head on his chest asleep) and they've done a lot of walking and fucking. He takes her to see an opera, but they don't have drinks after. She asks for ice cream. He honestly doesn't think anything of it.
They return to their hotel and engage in slightly risky behaviour by bending her over in her high heels, pushing her dress up her hips and thrusting his cock in her. It's a quick, passionate fuck which unfortunately culminates in his cock slipping out of her cunt. He cums on her lower back, gripping the railing in front of him and cursing at his fuck-up.]
[ She means to tell him at breakfast, and then after the opera -- neither of those pan out, she's too nervous. She suspects he'll have questions when she wants ice cream instead of a cocktail (or when she refused champagne at the opera) but he doesn't.
And then, when he's already hard before they get up the stairs and bends her over the bed. Well, it's not exactly prime timing, what with his fingers in her mouth, telling her to suck.
One hand, curled in his hair, the other on the metal next to his so she doesn't topple over onto the bed. His breath falls over her shoulder, her own coming in pants.
It just slips out without intention. ]
I don't think you have to make the target anymore.
[Still breathless and a little light-headed from the climax, Nate furrows his brows while his brain catches up with his ears. His palm runs gently up and down the curve of her back before he crawls over the top of her, kissing the back of her head and pressing his cheek against her temple.
As he's processing, his thoughts are racing and his chest is fluttering with excitement.]
What does that mean?
[Seems unlikely she's changed her mind, given the amount of times in the last few days that they've fucked raw. Which means it's likely that she's got a secret to tell him.
He winds his arm around her, fingers splaying over her stomach curiously.]
The cat is out of the bag. Fran bites her lip to not grin as she turns her head, hazels brimming with excitement. Her fingers move to rest over his, pressing the palm closer over her stomach. Flat, but not for long.
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sundown2025-04-27 08:43 pm
no subject
He shifts when she gets up for a glass of water and a wee. Laying down again is futile; she doesn't sleep. Lying next to his body only serves to deepen the vicious ache in her cunt. Her thighs rub together.
Daddy had forbidden her from bringing herself to climax without permission. But ... he didn't forbid her from using him as a means to that end.
She tests how deeply he's asleep by snuggling into his side, a leg across his hip, then rubbing her wetness onto his skin. When he doesn't stir, she becomes both wicked and desperate -- reaching a hand down to his cock, her fingers slipping along the ridges, coaxing him to firmness. He has fucked her awake multiple times. She can be forgiven this. Right? ]
no subject
As such, he doesn't stir when she snuggles in and rubs against him. It just adds a pleasant layer to his dream. What does stir is his cock, firming eagerly in her hand. Trained to her touch. He exhales, brows furrowing and cock twitching in her hand, but he's still asleep.
By the time he wakes, there's a much more complicated scene to process. He feels the weight of her on his chest, her lips and hands on his cock. The pleasure he feels is dreamlike, but the sensations are very real. Without giving her any indication that he's woken up, he shifts slowly under her and catches her thighs. His thumbs spread her further apart for him and he leans in, running his tongue up her soft, wet folds.]
no subject
His pleasure makes hers less important, secondary. And she knows how to please him; he's been a fine teacher in more ways than one. A mentor, if you will.
When he makes his consciousness known, she makes a soft noise of alarm around him. Jerking forward, just slightly, her thighs held by his large hands and not giving. She's so wet, that now that he's exposed the cleft of her cunt, it drools onto his chest.
Francesca whimpers, pressing her hips back, craving more. Dropping his cock, she manages to look over her shoulder. All hunger, in the shaft of moonlight that cuts across her face. ]
Woke up like this ... couldn't wait ...
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He doesn't have anything coherent to say, just a deeply pleased groan that reverberates over her skin. He laps his tongue deep into her, using his hands to encourage her hips to grind. When he eats her, it's like he's savouring and enjoying something delicious. He sucks at her flesh, adding to the mess thanks to the fact that he's drooling past his tongue.
He studies her as she looks over at him, committing the moment to memory. He makes an aching sound, enjoying her face but wanting her lips on his cock again.]
no subject
Francesca goes back to her work. Tongue flat, she licks a stripe up his cock, eating up the line of precum that pearls and spills. Hungrily, sighing her appreciation. Her lips pop the head back into her mouth, sinking down his length. Careful not to use too much teeth.
Her body shakes and grinds from pleasure, moaning around his cock while he eats her out. It's hard to focus on sucking him off when he's lapping inside her cunt, hips rocking back against his face. ]
no subject
He hasn't experimented much with this area. He's still showing her so many other things-- but he's very impressed with her moxy and her talented mouth.
His groans are appreciative, muffled by her cunt. His tongue drags further and further back until it swirls the rim of her asshole. He flicks the tip of it over her hole, increasing the pressure gradually. His thumbs shift deeper, spreading her further apart as he notches himself closer in. Satisfied with this, he drops a hand so he can start to pump two fingers in her pussy.]
no subject
For all the times she's gotten herself off, she's never put anything in there. It didn't interest her before. It does now, his tongue prodding against her flaring hole. His fingers stuffing themselves in her other.
He's going to make her black out. She has a hazy thought that she may squirt again. The memory of the intense pleasure makes her tremble with anticipation. It would drench his chin, his mouth.
Her efforts on his cock double, her moans swallowed up by it, drooling around his girth. Helps her to swallow him deeper. ]
no subject
[He hisses the words over her hole, like speaking is painful. It almost is, his cock is twitching and dying to release in her mouth. He can't. The way her cunt clenches and drips over his fingers means he's on a mission.]
You taste perfect.
[He whispers it over her rim, deliberately warm and breathy. He flattens his tongue over her, rubbing it back and forth in time with the curl of his fingers.]
no subject
It's not as wet as in the greenhouse, but the curl of his fingers does the trick: a stream that trickles down his fingers, over his wrist. ]
no subject
Lost in it, he withdraws his fingers and clenches his hands around her ass firmly. He holds her backside in place, cleaning her with wide and long strokes of his tongue. She tastes sweet and salty, he's becoming very familiar with her flavour. His hips undulate up into her mouth, fucking her lips gently and slowly.
He's starting to growl and his hips twitch, telltale signs that he's getting close to coming down her throat.]
no subject
The most primal side of her yawns awake. There's only one place he should be coming, and it's not down her throat.
In a deft movement, she pries herself away from his tongue and hands to perch on his stomach, holding his cock to maneuver it between swollen lips. The familiar stretch of taking her lover makes her shudder out a breath of contentment. Her cunt is so well lubricated he just slides right into her, her muscles rippling around him.
Intently, with no hesitation, her hips move, grinding down with every swish. Her head throws back. ]
no subject
He makes a soft, disappointed sound as she pulls her backside away from him. It fades into a sigh as she positions his cock and sinks easily on him. He sees stars when she envelopes him with her warmth, his perfect fit. He hisses:]
Fuck, Francesca.
[Exasperated, but so proud and thrilled by her. He wants to savour her and he grips at her thighs from behind her, but he feels he barely lasts a moment inside her. He bucks his hips up, grunting as he comes deep inside her. Through his orgasm, his heart flutters eagerly, hoping this one finds her pregnant. He sags back, exerted and tired but so fulfilled.]
Good work.
no subject
He softens. She lifts herself from the seat of his cock, slowly, afraid his spend will slip from her otherwise -- climbing to lay beside him on her back, fingers between her legs, careful to push his cum back into herself. Proves difficult in the aftermath of climaxing. She emits an exasperated sound of her own, clearly unimpressed, but awards him with a fond look and crinkle of her nose. She draws her legs up to her chest. Clearly this baby business is serious. ]
I have top marks, you should know.
no subject
[Nate murmurs, turning his head to watch her perform her ritual fondly. He curls himself toward her, scooting down enough that he can reach her belly.
He cups a hand over it tenderly, pressing a kiss to the softest part of it. He hums, completely content and unafraid of how eagerly she wants children and change and commitment. It's effortless with her and for her, which reminds him to determine if he has the materials he needs to make her a ring.
A thought for later, he's happy where he is and he could almost sleep with his head rested here on her.]
There's probably vitamins we could get you started on. Folic acid. [He brushes his lips over her bellybutton.]
Start feeding you more, too. [But maybe he's thinking too far ahead--]
You thought much about a wedding?
no subject
Her mouth quirks, somehow surprised to find he has thought far enough into this to have such specific suggestions. Maybe it shouldn't; he's a father already, but a part of her assumed he would not be so eager for this as she is. New as it is, this fierce want for a family. She's always wanted children, but she didn't imagine starting so soon, but it feels perfectly normal now. ]
We deer don't eat much. [ Dry. ]
Some. I don't think I would like a big wedding. I was thinking something small? Courthouse?
no subject
He hadn't felt any desire for more, save for missing aspects of Hope's childhood and regretting not being there for more. She was not planned and thus, she and his wife had fit around him and not the other way around. No big surprise it didn't work long term. It was his fault.
But he feels renewed vigour for many things with Francesca in his life. He feels they're rushing, but it never feels reckless. It feels efficient, which is probably for the best given his age. He'd like to give her good years of co-parenting, he has to be realistic about the finite amount of time for that.
He smiles against her skin at her comment, thinking about it.]
Could do it here. In the forest. With a celebrant.
[He brushes his fingers idly over the skin of her thighs.]
Have you told your family? About me?
no subject
His age, admittedly, has quite a part to play in why she's charging into this, but it's not the sole driver. She isn't a person that performs by impulses, or follows whims only to become bored by them later. Francesca thinks things over with great care, but she listens to her heart and then sees it through.
She's always been cut from that cloth. Stubborn, maybe. Self-possessed? Very. Steady and steely, she'd found a kindred soul in Nathan.
She hesitates at the question. The Question. ]
I told El. We're closest and she knew something was going on. I swore her to secrecy. And if she told Ben, then they'd all know because he smokes too much, and my mobile would be buzzing off the table right now.
[ Her fingers had been stroking his hair. They pause. ]
I don't want them to ... [ it's not ruin it but ] Intrude on this yet. I want you to myself. Just a little while longer.
no subject
When her hand stills, he reaches for it, pressing his lips against it. He turns his head to glance up at her, smiling slyly.]
I haven't told my folks about you either. [They're dead and it's a joke, but he wants her to feel understood.]
I like what we have. With us. [Just us.]
I don't want to put a rift between you and them, either. But if you're happy.. [He trails off, unsure of how to finish the sentence but feeling she will understand implicitly.]
no subject
The last part moves her to nudge him onto his back, sitting up to cradle his face between her hands. She knows her family is a lot. She's the first person to admit it.
Her expression is adoring, openly tender and reassuring. ]
I'm happy. I am very, very happy. And that's all that will matter to them, in the end.
no subject
I haven't felt as happy as I have the last few days for fifty-two fucking years. If you're happy, I'm happy. [He smiles shyly at her.]
And I'll do anything to keep you that way. [He traces his thumbs over her hands.]
Even if it means trying to explain how we met over family dinner. One day.
no subject
[ Her words are soft, leaning down to press her forehead to his.
She blushes prettily at the reminder of their first introductions, not exactly family friendly, and buries her face into his neck. It isn't shame or regret making her shy. Nobody wants to hear she met the love of her life and then let him deflower her in the backseat of his truck. How salacious.
Unwinding her limbs, she stretches out against his side, content as a cat nuzzled into his warmth. He's like a space heater. ]
We will leave the rated R part out, preferably.
no subject
The next morning, he presents her a ring over breakfast. He says it's temporary and he'll find a nicer one, she doesn't want another one. Weeks pass by and simple plans are made. There's a celebrant, a forest and a wedding arch covered in hydrangeas that they worked on together. She wears a very beautiful dress, so he wears a suit. When the celebrant leaves, Nate has a playlist of songs carefully curated by Francesca playing softly. They dance under fairy lights together in the garden and eat cake with her sitting in his lap. He carries her upstairs and to the bedroom, where he peels off her dress and worships her body for hours.
Barely a few days later, they're in New Zealand for their honeymoon for a wedding nobody knows they've had. Francesca seems a little tired. It was a long flight (though she spent most of it with her head on his chest asleep) and they've done a lot of walking and fucking. He takes her to see an opera, but they don't have drinks after. She asks for ice cream. He honestly doesn't think anything of it.
They return to their hotel and engage in slightly risky behaviour by bending her over in her high heels, pushing her dress up her hips and thrusting his cock in her. It's a quick, passionate fuck which unfortunately culminates in his cock slipping out of her cunt. He cums on her lower back, gripping the railing in front of him and cursing at his fuck-up.]
Sorry, bambi.
no subject
And then, when he's already hard before they get up the stairs and bends her over the bed. Well, it's not exactly prime timing, what with his fingers in her mouth, telling her to suck.
One hand, curled in his hair, the other on the metal next to his so she doesn't topple over onto the bed. His breath falls over her shoulder, her own coming in pants.
It just slips out without intention. ]
I don't think you have to make the target anymore.
no subject
As he's processing, his thoughts are racing and his chest is fluttering with excitement.]
What does that mean?
[Seems unlikely she's changed her mind, given the amount of times in the last few days that they've fucked raw. Which means it's likely that she's got a secret to tell him.
He winds his arm around her, fingers splaying over her stomach curiously.]
no subject
Well.
The cat is out of the bag. Fran bites her lip to not grin as she turns her head, hazels brimming with excitement. Her fingers move to rest over his, pressing the palm closer over her stomach. Flat, but not for long.
She nods. ]
Yeah.
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