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[ sometimes all a muse needs is sex ] The sound was loud, so loud that it… When Amy´s arms wrapped around his neck his fingers faltered on the keys, in the middle of typing out yet another variation. His mouth hung somewhere between a smile and a frown as he rolled his head to the side and grunted. “Amy, stop it. I‘m writing.” “You´re always writing, Mort,” she whispered into his neck as she flicked her tongue out to lick at the nape of his neck. “Anyway, it´s not like it´ll take that long.” “Hey,” he said laughing, turning slightly to face her. “You´re wanting sex, so you attack my endurance?” She grinned, taking advantage of his turned chair to straddle his lap. “Yes, because I knew it would make you pay attention.” He smiled up at her, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “Are you feeling neglected?” “Your keyboard sees more action in one night than I have in a month, Mort,” she said, raising an amused eyebrow at him. “Ah yes, but my keyboard doesn´t complain when I type too hard.” Amy laughed. “Yes, well your keyboard doesn´t have the headboard to contend with.” He grinned at her, stretching his neck up to kiss her, grunting softly as she ground her body into his. “Amy,” he muffled out. “Can´t you just wait till I´m done with this paragraph?” “Nope,” she said, sitting up and quickly taking off her shirt. His eyes drifted over her body slowly, his hand running up her side slowly as he licked his lips. “You´re not wearing a bra.” She shook her head. “Nope.” He nodded, chewing on his lip. He ran his thumb lightly over her breast, feeling the stirrings of arousal begin to gnaw at him. “And you absolutely, positively, can not wait one second longer.” “Take me now, Mort,” she drawled out, grinning at him. “Or lose me forever.” He arched an eyebrow at her, his mouth quirking up in a smirk. “Been watching Top Gun, have we?” She leaned down and kissed him in lieu of an answer, and he promptly forgot the troublesome sentence he´d been tinkering on for the better half of the last hour. His fingers ran up her back, pulling her closer to him as he pulled back. Bending his head he swiped his tongue over one of her pert nipples, smiling as she writhed against him. “It really has been a while, hasn´t it,” he whispered as he took one between his teeth and nibbled gently on it. “Too long,” Amy said, her voice hot and heavy with lust. “So long, in fact, that I don´t even mind having to contend with the headboard.” He laughed, looking up at her. “Is that a fact?” She looked at him, frowning slightly. “That´s not an invitation, Mort. I´m not like, encouraging you to…” “Shut up, Amy,” he growled, grabbing her face in his hands and kissing her roughly, swiping his tongue over her lips and then inside. His hands worked on the buttons on her jeans, deftly maneuvering the fabric around them. “Stand up,” he commanded, lowering his mouth to her neck and biting lightly. She stood and he turned his chair to face her, leaning forward and unzipping her jeans. He yanked them to the floor in such haste that she cried out and her hand flailed out to catch onto his shoulder. He grinned up at her as he slipped a finger inside her underwear, flicking it lightly against her. “Mmm. You certainly are anxious, aren´t you?” “Mort,” she protested. He pulled her underwear down, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her forward, his tongue dipping out to lick at her naval before dipping lower. Her hands clenched in his long and knotted hair as he began to lick lower, her breath coming in harsh and ragged gasps as his fingers joined his tongue. He coaxed her slowly and steadily into her first orgasm as she stood there, his hands on her hips and her hands in his hair the only thing keeping her standing. As she was recovering he stood and removed his boxers and robe, sitting back down and tugging her on top of him. She gasped in surprise as he entered her, her brain still fuzzy and muddled from her climax. He waited a moment for her to regain her breath before kissing her ferociously and bucking into her. She moaned into his mouth, her hands tightening in his hair and pulling his head back as she ground into him. He tried to pump slowly but the tighter she gripped his hair the faster he went, and before long the only sounds that could be heard in the room were gasps and moans and muttered curses and the slapping of skin on skin. He came when she came, and as always they kissed until they both were sated and languid and sagging against one another. He leaned his head back against the chair, his arms wrapped tightly and protectively around her body as they both caught their breath. His eyes drifted over to his computer screen and he glared at the words on the screen. “Amy?” She turned her head, kissing the base of his neck slowly. “Hmm?” “What´s another way to say ‘the sound was loud?´ I´m feeling unimaginative today.” She laughed, looking at him. “Oh, you´re plenty imaginative. Where did you learn that thing you did where you doubled up your tongue?” He laughed, shrugging. “Julie did it on The Real World. I tried it. Thought it might come in handy in situations such as these.” She laughed, nodding. “It did.” He wagged an eyebrow at her. “I could tell.” She bit her lip, running her hands through his hair, taking care to not tug on the tangled mass despite the roughness with which she treated it mere minutes before. “The sound was cacophonous?” His hands froze midstroke down her back. “Cacophonous,” he said, jerking back to look at her. “Cacophonous?” She nodded. “It means…” “I know what it means,” he said, dragging his feet on the floor in a jerky and quick fashion until he was in reaching distance of his keyboard. “Fuckin´, ofcourse… How did I not… mother fucker…”
The noise was loud and reverberating, cacophonous like that of pots hitting tile. He grinned at his computer screen, sitting back and wrapping his arms around Amy´s sagging body. “See,” he said, turning his head to kiss her hairline. “Told you you were my muse.” |