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sunshine_173
rating: R
pairing: Belldom
summary: One out of ten drabbles I will be posting daily till Christmas day.
feedback: I wants it, my precious.
disclaimer: I think if I owned Muse, you would know about it. They're a bit famous so I doubt it'd be something easily hidden.
warning : Sex with bare minimum detail. Language.
notes: I swear I'm working on AA but I was just too tired to write with proper quality writing so I just went with this little fifteen minute quickie of a drabble. The fourth one, btw, of my ten. Enjoy! I'm going to go pass out :D
I’ve been kissed under mistletoe hanging in an archway before, but never once have I been fucked. I guess that’s why they say there’s a first for everything.
By god did I not realize that “everything” literally meant…well, everything.
I don’t know his name but I don’t really care considering we were both wasted and had met four hours previous at a Christmas party that we never quite made it out of despite everyone having left, oh, about thirty minutes ago.
What I did know was that he was blonde and he was sweating and he had a kind of blank look about his face like he was perpetually stoned but I didn’t taste weed on his tongue when he kissed me and I think his goofy smile was just a reflection of his inner personality. I also knew that every time he took a particularly deep thrust into me his expression would get all screwed up and kind of cute but all-in-all none of it mattered cos he was hot and I was horny and godfuckingshitpissanddamn my back is going to be sore in the morning.
He was moaning against my throat and I scratched my nails down his shoulder blade when he hit a special spot inside of me that made my toes curl and my vision turn trippy and cross-eyed.
I kept glancing up above us at the dangling mistletoe with a large-ass fake crystal hanging in the center of it as I let myself become overwhelmed by the sensation of being taken. I almost started laughing at how ridiculous this situation was and you’re probably asking why the fuck I’m not concentrating on the sex I’m partaking in but here, let me explain.
I’m in an elf costume and he’s my dirty Santa. The fake beard is hanging around his neck and flopping on his back as he thrusts. He’s got a great body and he’s pretty damn attractive and he’s also got a massive dick but I feel like he doesn’t exactly know what to do with it because his brain wasn’t quite large enough to think for two heads.
Not that he’s unintelligent or anything. Before I shoved a beer in his hand, he was spouting off what sounded like Calculus to a mutual friend of ours who happened to work at the same oil company as him. I figured out in the first few minutes of our acquaintanceship that he’d be banking in a few years but I’m sorry, no emotional attachment is being made tonight and the moment we both get our rocks off I am out the fucking door.
He hit that deep spot again three times in a row and I couldn’t even find it in me to care that the fake Santa beard was flapping against my cheek because the pressure was building so intensely that I almost took back my initial opinion of him being a shite lover, but then he was jerking and twitching on top of me and I actually starting laughing when he pulled out. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, though, when he finished me off with his mouth.
“How old are you…?” I asked breathlessly after a couple of minutes. “Actually, who the fuck are you?”
He laughed. “I’m twenty. I’m Dom. I told you that like five times before you threw yourself at me.”
“Threw myself I did not, drunk I was, and oh my fuck I just shagged a child.” I rubbed a hand against my forehead and snorted, sobriety starting to take its hold.
Dom laughed again and I began to really believe that he was a total pothead. “I’m not a child, dude. Besides, what’s your age?”
“I’m twenty-seven and I feel like Herbert the Pervert.”
Our conversation continued awkwardly for a few more minutes before we both agreed to go our separate ways and pretend that we had never met each other. I thanked whatever god I didn’t believe in that the owner of the house we were at was sound asleep on the couch twenty feet from us.
You’ve gotta love morals in the name of the holiday spirit.
sunshine_173rating: R
pairing: Belldom
summary: One out of ten drabbles I will be posting daily till Christmas day.
feedback: I wants it, my precious.
disclaimer: I think if I owned Muse, you would know about it. They're a bit famous so I doubt it'd be something easily hidden.
warning : Sex with bare minimum detail. Language.
notes: I swear I'm working on AA but I was just too tired to write with proper quality writing so I just went with this little fifteen minute quickie of a drabble. The fourth one, btw, of my ten. Enjoy! I'm going to go pass out :D
I’ve been kissed under mistletoe hanging in an archway before, but never once have I been fucked. I guess that’s why they say there’s a first for everything.
By god did I not realize that “everything” literally meant…well, everything.
I don’t know his name but I don’t really care considering we were both wasted and had met four hours previous at a Christmas party that we never quite made it out of despite everyone having left, oh, about thirty minutes ago.
What I did know was that he was blonde and he was sweating and he had a kind of blank look about his face like he was perpetually stoned but I didn’t taste weed on his tongue when he kissed me and I think his goofy smile was just a reflection of his inner personality. I also knew that every time he took a particularly deep thrust into me his expression would get all screwed up and kind of cute but all-in-all none of it mattered cos he was hot and I was horny and godfuckingshitpissanddamn my back is going to be sore in the morning.
He was moaning against my throat and I scratched my nails down his shoulder blade when he hit a special spot inside of me that made my toes curl and my vision turn trippy and cross-eyed.
I kept glancing up above us at the dangling mistletoe with a large-ass fake crystal hanging in the center of it as I let myself become overwhelmed by the sensation of being taken. I almost started laughing at how ridiculous this situation was and you’re probably asking why the fuck I’m not concentrating on the sex I’m partaking in but here, let me explain.
I’m in an elf costume and he’s my dirty Santa. The fake beard is hanging around his neck and flopping on his back as he thrusts. He’s got a great body and he’s pretty damn attractive and he’s also got a massive dick but I feel like he doesn’t exactly know what to do with it because his brain wasn’t quite large enough to think for two heads.
Not that he’s unintelligent or anything. Before I shoved a beer in his hand, he was spouting off what sounded like Calculus to a mutual friend of ours who happened to work at the same oil company as him. I figured out in the first few minutes of our acquaintanceship that he’d be banking in a few years but I’m sorry, no emotional attachment is being made tonight and the moment we both get our rocks off I am out the fucking door.
He hit that deep spot again three times in a row and I couldn’t even find it in me to care that the fake Santa beard was flapping against my cheek because the pressure was building so intensely that I almost took back my initial opinion of him being a shite lover, but then he was jerking and twitching on top of me and I actually starting laughing when he pulled out. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, though, when he finished me off with his mouth.
“How old are you…?” I asked breathlessly after a couple of minutes. “Actually, who the fuck are you?”
He laughed. “I’m twenty. I’m Dom. I told you that like five times before you threw yourself at me.”
“Threw myself I did not, drunk I was, and oh my fuck I just shagged a child.” I rubbed a hand against my forehead and snorted, sobriety starting to take its hold.
Dom laughed again and I began to really believe that he was a total pothead. “I’m not a child, dude. Besides, what’s your age?”
“I’m twenty-seven and I feel like Herbert the Pervert.”
Our conversation continued awkwardly for a few more minutes before we both agreed to go our separate ways and pretend that we had never met each other. I thanked whatever god I didn’t believe in that the owner of the house we were at was sound asleep on the couch twenty feet from us.
You’ve gotta love morals in the name of the holiday spirit.
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no subject
Date: 2011-12-19 09:21 am (UTC)Oh dear…This is hilarious. Granpa elf gets fucked by fledgling Santa. XD