yiling matriarch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
marginalia) wrote2003-08-10 03:47 pm
marginalia) wrote2003-08-10 03:47 pm
Entry tags:
double drabble for longlac and scaryemilie
they both asked for billy/cate. drea wanted kilts and smut. emilie gave the prompt of "crumpled". poor things get this in return:
i brought a gift, he says. a kilt, he says. she tilts her head. thought i'd see what the appeal was. she laughs.
unzip me, she says, and turns, and he tugs the zipper down slowly, traces her spine through her slip. realizes there's nothing underneath.
a little wanton? he asks.
maybe, she says, but i didn't think you'd mind.
i don't, he says, tugs the slip over her head, tosses it on top of the crumpled dress, and she turns to kiss him and
wait, he says. hands her the kilt. put it on, he says, sitting on the bed to watch milk white hips and thighs disappear behind dark wool. now, here, he says and she smiles and straddles and undresses him and then it's stolen kisses, hurried. with teeth always careful not to leave a mark.
she's soft breasts and rough fabric and cool eyes and heated skin above him, rocking, and he's shuddering, shaking, breath catching and hands catching sweat-slick skin and the kilt pooled around them.
and. he understands, now, the appeal.
later, when he turns to go, she asks, stay for a drink?
no, he says. i want to keep the taste of you.
i brought a gift, he says. a kilt, he says. she tilts her head. thought i'd see what the appeal was. she laughs.
unzip me, she says, and turns, and he tugs the zipper down slowly, traces her spine through her slip. realizes there's nothing underneath.
a little wanton? he asks.
maybe, she says, but i didn't think you'd mind.
i don't, he says, tugs the slip over her head, tosses it on top of the crumpled dress, and she turns to kiss him and
wait, he says. hands her the kilt. put it on, he says, sitting on the bed to watch milk white hips and thighs disappear behind dark wool. now, here, he says and she smiles and straddles and undresses him and then it's stolen kisses, hurried. with teeth always careful not to leave a mark.
she's soft breasts and rough fabric and cool eyes and heated skin above him, rocking, and he's shuddering, shaking, breath catching and hands catching sweat-slick skin and the kilt pooled around them.
and. he understands, now, the appeal.
later, when he turns to go, she asks, stay for a drink?
no, he says. i want to keep the taste of you.