keenely: (Default)
nancy wheeler. ([personal profile] keenely) wrote2019-07-07 01:03 am

ic inbox;; ota


call . text???? . video??? . action
babysitters: (0124)

[personal profile] babysitters 2023-06-11 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)
( considering where they started — like when they were clacking heads trying to find the right angle to kiss each other and both getting the logistics horribly wrong, or when Nancy fell off the bed and nearly took him with her when she misjudged her straddle velocity — it feels like they've finally managed to get back into the swing of it. find each others rhythm. all coming back to them now. as Nancy spreads her legs wide to take him without even being asked. or shifting from two greedy fists in his hair to just the one, though, honestly he didn't entirely hate the hair pulling? food for thought. or how he knows to keep some weight down at his knees, because he needs some kind of leverage to move. find the rhythm that makes her see stars and his toes curl because they both need it bad, after waiting so goddamn long.

they might not be to the well oiled machine stage of knowing each other like they used to be, at least not yet. but the rust is coming off and it's a relief that it isn't that hard to find their way back to each other. and while he thinks there's definitely more exciting things they'd like to do to each other and positions they're curious to try, maybe sweet and simple for their second first time is a good place to start. missionary works for a reason, doesn't it? and while harder might be easier if he were standing — or she was on that table, how sturdy is that table, and if it's not sturdy how much would they have to pay if they break that table — it isn't as if he can't sink deep into her just like this. he might have to spare one elbow to balance himself on top of her, but the other hand is free to fish for hers. pin it above her head as his cock sinks inside her and the filthy little smack of skin on skin starts to echo, as his cock works inside her and she arches and bucks up to take it.
)

Fuck, Nance — ( is his first choked affirmation, trying to fit the words between thrusts. ) Okay, no more talking, ( he suggests, because maybe Nancy is not the only one regressing to horny idiot emergency power. he was frankly a bully to make her try and talk through that!!! as if to reinforce the no talking, Steve doesn't so much kiss her as lands his open mouth close to hers, groan-y throat-y moans and all. look, it's a start. surely both of them can agree that the pace they're starting to hit is more important than words right now. because the winding up heat in his gut as she clenches around him is burning all over and everywhere, and not that slowly either. finally the more more more they've been missing. needing.

and he wants to feather this out as long as he can even though it's practically a fools errand, like trying to keep a fire from catching when you've doused all the dry kindling in kerosene.
)
babysitters: (0124)

[personal profile] babysitters 2023-06-22 05:58 am (UTC)(link)
( he's not sure what that desperate, heady laugh is about — couldn't possibly connect it to catching her hand in his. there's half a moment spared to charming puppy confusion, but whatever it was it probably doesn't need to be hashed out when he's balls deep inside of her. Steve just huffs a half breath that could almost be a laugh, too, letting his tongue trace inside her lower lip and along her tongue to try and catch a taste of whatever delighted her. doesn't quite work, but Nancy herself tastes good. a mix of red hots she'd insisted on as a driving snack and the Coke that she'd made wrinkled nose faces about even though she insisted she liked New Coke over stopping to get something else. and below that Nancy just tastes like... Nancy. he's never quite gotten over how much he likes the way Nancy tastes, so getting to lap her back onto his tastebuds is almost as enjoy able as the clench of her around him every time he's buried to the hilt. whatever tickled her, he'll ask about it later. no talking, right? that was the deal. twining their fingers as his strokes start to even out and his hipbones start to do that sexy-tingle from the impact of their bodies together can do the talking for now.

or, scratch that. because Nancy yanks on a good handful of his hair, and it earns a ragged sound and a drawn out, slurred fuuuuuuuuuckkkk of approval. his perfect hair is going to have a fist print in it after this, thanks to the tugging and the sweat caught at the roots. Steve can't be bothered to care about how the incredible hold of his hairspray will only make the disaster worse when they come up for air. he can only care about the slide of his cock, keeping his pace sharp and hitting her in that spot just right that makes her toes curl. he's only got so long; there's so much pent up frustration and desire from not being with anyone, compounded by being with Nancy and not being with her like this, all to prove some stupid point. what was he thinking. jesus christ. that they have spent weeks not doing exactly this seems to be a complete moral failing, because god she feels so perfect. she's always felt like this. deeper, better, more than any girl he's ever been with. did they really prove anything by managing to keep their hands out of each other's pants all this time, or just make it harder for themselves when they finally let themselves go?

because it does feel difficult, to focus on the movement, and not blowing his load before they can get Nancy anywhere close. fingering her first and stretching her out was a slow-and-steady sort of thing, and now that they're off to the races Steve is desperate not to cum too quickly and have things be over when they've been waiting so long. and it sure as shit doesn't help when Nancy starts to wriggle and keen against him, because Steve remembers exactly what that means. remembering exactly how Nancy moves and sounds as she gets close to orgasm is a lot for him right now. biting, and telling him she's close, and exactly how loud and turned on and demanding she's being? that's a lot for him right now too. too much in fact. he feels it like a rubber band being snapped, breaking suddenly and sharply and a little painfully if you're on the wrong side of things. he's not, at least, but coming with stars behind his eyes makes him stall out a second and the lady literally just said don't stop!!!
)

Shit, Nance, ( he gasps, hips jutting and spasming a little as the worst of his orgasm hits like a truck, threads of muscle in his back tight and his weight falling almost entirely on top of her as he fucks her jaggedly through it before he stalls, like a train stopped at the tracks. very much blowing the don't of don't stop. he feels liquid and warm and lost in her and it is tempting to just swim in all that ecstasy, but as the brunt of it clears his brain starts to work again. slowly coming back to life, piece by piece. ) Sorry, ( he moans, offering a messy smattering of kisses as his body remembers how to function and the important orders he was just delivered. he... didn't want to cum first. that wasn't quite how he wanted this to go. BUT. he's not soft yet, there's still time before he's completely useless. his strokes are more shallow, now, interested mostly in ending as deep inside her as he can manage and the satisfying pressure of them coming together, over and over and over, that seems to drive her completely mental. ) C'mon, baby. Please, Nance. Come on.

( he needs her to finish too. if his cock can't manage it then his mouth will. he is not going to lie around here waiting for his dick to work again to hear Nancy Wheeler orgasm for the first time in years. it just is not happening. )
babysitters: (0125)

[personal profile] babysitters 2023-07-13 02:00 am (UTC)(link)
( well, there are two options. more downtime to the point of they gotta wait for his dick to check back in, use something else to finish the job. or they can make use of what little he's got left. it's a hard headed determination that is leading the charge, here, because as good as it feels there's a prickle of discomfort, like when he eats that fourth piece of pizza when he really knows he shouldn't. too much of a good thing is supposed to be bad but there's guilty pleasure in it, too. his body might want to check out now that he's hit his own finish line, his brain just refuses to.

they've got a timeline, here. between what is left of being hard quickly turns into pushing rope. so his encore is distinctly more desperate than before, and it isn't like he'd been lacking on that front the first round. it's just she was so close. used to be they were pretty in sync, with these things. he could hold back just long enough, or they'd work her up first so getting her to crash through a finish was just a bit of fingers or maybe the back of his palm pressed hard against her clit. he knows the sounds she's making, the wild, uncomfortable way she's moving, the flush crawling up her neck and the pinpoint of her pupils, Steve knows she's close. he's not just going to call it quits before they get there, even if it isn't quite how he wanted their second first to go.

the problem before was expecting perfection, that they could just jump back into the thick of it without putting the time in. like running a marathon right after they got cleared to ditch the crutches. throwing that out the window, focusing on making the most of what they've got — maybe it's not perfect, maybe Foreigner isn't providing a soft crooning ambiance, maybe it isn't some first magical moment. to be fair their first time wasn't perfect either, and that was before a girl got munched in his pool. perfect is more or less impossible. making the best of being with Nancy again, well... that he can do. hell, it's pretty easy to do, when she still melts under his touch. still knows just how she likes to jut back and slide against him, knows how to hold herself in that spot that makes her body sing. it's sloppy and fraught and desperate and delightful. and in the end, it's enough. he feels it before it hits, the way the inner muscles of her thighs go tight and then shiver-shudder clench as she falls to pieces under him and around him all at once.
)

Yes, just... just like that, Nancy. God you're so fucking — ( sexy? beautiful? everything he could imagine and more? yes. whatever he meant to articulate, he can't, especially as the exhaustion of completion hits. the movement can stop and he can just get lost in the afterglow, which is pretty afterglow-y, right now. used to be, Steve worried more, about laying on top of her. if anything it makes more sense to worry about it now than it did then, because he was a lot more tooth-picky in high school. that swimmer diet kicked his ass until he didn't have to bother anymore. there's a great deal more of him to bear down on her, now, it's just he couldn't care less. Nancy will whine if her legs start to fall asleep. she's a lot less fragile than she looks, and fragile she does look, sort of like one of those porcelain dolls his mom keeps in her closet only with a much more modern haircut. (some post nut thoughts are best to keep to oneself.) he can wind her close and be her heavy boy blanket at least long enough for their brains to turn back on again.

his mouth hurts from all the kissing. it's not a bad kind of sting. he still uses his teeth to catch a spot under her jaw close to her neck, that spot that always smells most like Nancy after they fuck. for important, not at all caveman reasons, he really likes that spot. his brain doesn't really have the capacity for coherent thought just yet, it just wants to double down in nancynancynancy. that spot always helps with that. having his mouth busy is a good way to keep the post sex i love you to himself. maybe it is obvious, at this point. he feels like the dumb dopey expression he wears when he looks at her sort of gives it away. still, holding onto that a little longer since they've technically only been dating again a few months? feels like a good call.
)