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Contuing from here. The rest of her story can be found here. Or you could read this one as stand alone smut. I'm easy, but as always - feedback/comments are welcomed.
***** ***** ***** *****
Driving home with the sun long since up Mal was humming along to The Extaze around a small but persistent smile. That had been fun. The first half of the night felt forever ago, and the warm ache in her thighs and the slight press of bruises where she'd thrown herself against the table edges playing air hockey were only helping keep the more recent parts real in her head. She'd never have expected it to look at the guy, but Neo was good company, and a damn fine dancer. Put up a fair fight with the beat-em-ups too, at least once she'd accepted the handicap of not playing Ivy every match.
Pulling into the parking lot behind her apartment building, she killed the engine, and just sat for a moment listening to the tick of Wintermute's engine and the distant sounds of other, normal, people going about their normal mornings. She stretched, pushing back against the steering wheel until the tops of her shoulders pulled and her neck cracked as she twisted. Definitely fun. And kinda cute, once you looked past the 'first two items off the floor' wardrobe method.
She followed that thought process, just for the entertainment value, while she climbed the stairs, and dumped everything in a heap at the end of the bed. She was stripping off before the cd player caught and was in the shower by the time the first song started up, rinsing away sweat and smoke in tepid water straight from the tank on the roof. For a skinny guy Neo didn’t look bad sweating, she remembered, and the way his hair started to fall in little darkened tips over his eyes was actually pretty sexy. At least to some people it would be.
The water felt like bliss on her scalp, and she ducked her face under the water, scrubbing off the remains of her makeup. People who liked skinny vaguely grungy looking geek boys with cheekbones and long fingers and really pretty tattoos wrapped around one wiry bicep. Somewhere in the rough-housing that followed her final DDR victory she'd leaned over and licked the sweat off it, and he'd jerked away, wriggling and tickling, leaving salt and himself on her tongue. Tasted good.
She concentrated on the practical for a minute, towelling herself mostly dry and pushing the junk far enough away from the door to make it shut all the way and keep the light out. The thick blinds over the window took care of the rest, and when she realised that nothing she could lay hands on right now was going to mesh with the bass that was throbbing up from her neighbours' flat and switched off the hi-fi, the room was cool and dim.
It was a relief to just let go and hit the crumpled sheets, letting all the tension go with one long out breath, making space for tiredness to creep up on her and pounce, making all her muscles tired and heavy. Languorous. Dreamy. Kinda horny. Her hands found the curves of her breasts automatically, squeezing and rubbing at her nipples while her mind wandered.
She was already slick by the time she allowed her fingers to reach that low, wet and waiting, pulsing in time to her pinched nipples and clenching thighs and fuck but she was horny, home alone after all that playing. Felt good. So good. Too good, and she danced away from her clit, spreading her juices, rubbing over her folds, dipping a fingertip to make her cunt clamp down and her hips arch and pulling all the breath from her body.
So hot already and nothing much to concentrate on but body parts, hands and lips and arms and bodies and the music shaking through the chipboard walls with a sensuous slide of notes and words and electric blue sparks against her eyelids, screwed shut against reality.
Tasting herself on her fingers almost short circuited the loop, and she abandoned her tender breasts, two fingers twisting inside and two more slick circling her clit and oh god yes.
Thoughts scattered as her focus narrowed down to just feeling, heat and rhythm and if Izzy and Bastien turned the music down now she might just scream because the tight curl of pleasure low in her belly was winding close and urgent with the beat forcing the speed of her fingers, keeping everything just deliciously there and…. Fuck. So good. So close.
The bright copper tang meant she was biting her lip, and the jolt of realising curled her fingers, drawing her hips up, her head back, grinding wet hair into grey cotton. The moment where breathing, baseline, and the slick-tight pulsing in her heart and her cunt hit in harmony could have been seconds or forever, and when her orgasm slid away, leaving her curled and panting the loss of that perfection stung a little before her body took over, drawing her into small contented gasps and sated stillness.
***** ***** ***** *****
Driving home with the sun long since up Mal was humming along to The Extaze around a small but persistent smile. That had been fun. The first half of the night felt forever ago, and the warm ache in her thighs and the slight press of bruises where she'd thrown herself against the table edges playing air hockey were only helping keep the more recent parts real in her head. She'd never have expected it to look at the guy, but Neo was good company, and a damn fine dancer. Put up a fair fight with the beat-em-ups too, at least once she'd accepted the handicap of not playing Ivy every match.
Pulling into the parking lot behind her apartment building, she killed the engine, and just sat for a moment listening to the tick of Wintermute's engine and the distant sounds of other, normal, people going about their normal mornings. She stretched, pushing back against the steering wheel until the tops of her shoulders pulled and her neck cracked as she twisted. Definitely fun. And kinda cute, once you looked past the 'first two items off the floor' wardrobe method.
She followed that thought process, just for the entertainment value, while she climbed the stairs, and dumped everything in a heap at the end of the bed. She was stripping off before the cd player caught and was in the shower by the time the first song started up, rinsing away sweat and smoke in tepid water straight from the tank on the roof. For a skinny guy Neo didn’t look bad sweating, she remembered, and the way his hair started to fall in little darkened tips over his eyes was actually pretty sexy. At least to some people it would be.
The water felt like bliss on her scalp, and she ducked her face under the water, scrubbing off the remains of her makeup. People who liked skinny vaguely grungy looking geek boys with cheekbones and long fingers and really pretty tattoos wrapped around one wiry bicep. Somewhere in the rough-housing that followed her final DDR victory she'd leaned over and licked the sweat off it, and he'd jerked away, wriggling and tickling, leaving salt and himself on her tongue. Tasted good.
She concentrated on the practical for a minute, towelling herself mostly dry and pushing the junk far enough away from the door to make it shut all the way and keep the light out. The thick blinds over the window took care of the rest, and when she realised that nothing she could lay hands on right now was going to mesh with the bass that was throbbing up from her neighbours' flat and switched off the hi-fi, the room was cool and dim.
It was a relief to just let go and hit the crumpled sheets, letting all the tension go with one long out breath, making space for tiredness to creep up on her and pounce, making all her muscles tired and heavy. Languorous. Dreamy. Kinda horny. Her hands found the curves of her breasts automatically, squeezing and rubbing at her nipples while her mind wandered.
She was already slick by the time she allowed her fingers to reach that low, wet and waiting, pulsing in time to her pinched nipples and clenching thighs and fuck but she was horny, home alone after all that playing. Felt good. So good. Too good, and she danced away from her clit, spreading her juices, rubbing over her folds, dipping a fingertip to make her cunt clamp down and her hips arch and pulling all the breath from her body.
So hot already and nothing much to concentrate on but body parts, hands and lips and arms and bodies and the music shaking through the chipboard walls with a sensuous slide of notes and words and electric blue sparks against her eyelids, screwed shut against reality.
Tasting herself on her fingers almost short circuited the loop, and she abandoned her tender breasts, two fingers twisting inside and two more slick circling her clit and oh god yes.
Thoughts scattered as her focus narrowed down to just feeling, heat and rhythm and if Izzy and Bastien turned the music down now she might just scream because the tight curl of pleasure low in her belly was winding close and urgent with the beat forcing the speed of her fingers, keeping everything just deliciously there and…. Fuck. So good. So close.
The bright copper tang meant she was biting her lip, and the jolt of realising curled her fingers, drawing her hips up, her head back, grinding wet hair into grey cotton. The moment where breathing, baseline, and the slick-tight pulsing in her heart and her cunt hit in harmony could have been seconds or forever, and when her orgasm slid away, leaving her curled and panting the loss of that perfection stung a little before her body took over, drawing her into small contented gasps and sated stillness.
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From:
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Holy smokes, hon. I need... some alone time.
:-)
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[not that I sit here pressing refresh after I post fic or anything *cough*]
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ru sez: so when are we gonna meet him, huh? :D
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Mal sez: Eeh. Sometime. Maybe. It's not like I'm doing anything regular with him, he's just around. Hey, you working tommorow? Coffee at Quoths? My treat.
From:
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Must remember to switch off "pedantic proofreader mode" - unless you want seriously picky proofreading which drove
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From:
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And, as my first swift cut, in the last paragraph, I though that a musical bassline was spelt as in bass, rather than base (although I could be wrong).
I'm much out of practice on the crit front - too long since A-level - but pedantry and spellchecking are part of my job (as well as part of my mindset ...)
From:
no subject
I do uttely adore the thought of her fingers dancing - it makes the sex so much more fun, and is my favourite of the tie-ins to the music and movement theme that goes through this.
I wasn't looking for typos, but pulsing in tie to her pinched nipples stood out for me.
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Yeah, that was the coherent concrit.
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