If they keep going, he won't last much longer anyway -- he's just about there -- but she looks tuckered out, so he figures--
With a huff of breath for the effort 101 grips his shoulders and drags herself up his cock again, startling a yelp out of him. When her head leans back enough to look him in the eye again there's a ferocity hiding somewhere in the satisfied afterglow haze, a determination that all but floors him, and that's all she needs to take control again, going back to her own punishing rhythm from before but using what she's picked up regarding the angle of the thrust--
It really doesn't take much longer before he's pawing at her hips, warning her brokenly. She concedes, pulling herself off him and settling her bare ass on his jeanclad thighs, then reaches down between them and finishes him off manually. His jaw clenches, hips rising off the chair, then his head's tossing back and she's pulling a sort of open-mouthed howl out of him not quite like the one he's prone to use on the radio.
Distantly, numbly, coming down from that high, Three Dog hears but fails to process the sound of his own voice echoing back to him from the radio equipment, the music still running under it. It comes through retroactively after he's had a moment to slump and pant raggedly, dark chest streaked with his own semen and an olive-skinned Venus still sitting in his lap, though the expression on her blushing face isn't what he hoped to see.
He follows her eyes, and they both stare at the button he forgot to press.
LW's hand slams down on it, producing an audible click on the air when the microphone feed cuts out, and a beat later they can hear the rumble of booming laughter filtered through power helmets below, exploding all at once.
They look back at each other. She's as red in the face as the day he met her, that primal sexuality and calm, assertive confidence gone for a moment and replaced with something more similar to her old high-strung self-consciousness, and from how hot he feels above the collar he's willing to believe skin-tone aside she can probably see him blushing too.
They sit like that a moment, horrified with the error and not sure what to do.
She's the one who breaks and laughs first, the sound coming out of her more brightly and clearly than he's heard from her in a long while as she slumps and drops her head onto his shoulder. Soon he's chuckling breathlessly with her, and it becomes hard to stop, both of them laughing deliriously.
When they settle down he puts on another tape of his ramblings to fill in the segments between music, still feeling a bit too embarrassed to face the Wasteland even through a microphone, and she settles into a more comfortable position in his lap, leaning against his chest. He's carding his fingers through her hair, sorting out the knots, when she finally speaks up again.
"So, I think I'll crash a little longer, but when I leave... Yeah I'm just gonna go ahead and take the long way out."
---[Fin]---
Okay so.
A couple of quick notes: 1) Anyone know how old Three Dog is? I don't. Don't care either. Early thirties is a good, sexy age. Argue with me. [/dare] 2) Pitt slavers keep track of what loot they confiscate from which slave AND give it all back after the arena? I REFUSE TO SUSPEND MY DISBELIEF kthxbai. 3) First time writing pronz. Ever. ENJOY POPPING MY CHERRY, OP.
-Authornon collapses. Then begins eyeing this M!LW/sub!Three Dog prompt...-
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timeasmymeasure
Re: Since When, 3h/3, COMPLETE
Date: 2012-06-18 07:33 pm (UTC)With a huff of breath for the effort 101 grips his shoulders and drags herself up his cock again, startling a yelp out of him. When her head leans back enough to look him in the eye again there's a ferocity hiding somewhere in the satisfied afterglow haze, a determination that all but floors him, and that's all she needs to take control again, going back to her own punishing rhythm from before but using what she's picked up regarding the angle of the thrust--
It really doesn't take much longer before he's pawing at her hips, warning her brokenly. She concedes, pulling herself off him and settling her bare ass on his jeanclad thighs, then reaches down between them and finishes him off manually. His jaw clenches, hips rising off the chair, then his head's tossing back and she's pulling a sort of open-mouthed howl out of him not quite like the one he's prone to use on the radio.
Distantly, numbly, coming down from that high, Three Dog hears but fails to process the sound of his own voice echoing back to him from the radio equipment, the music still running under it. It comes through retroactively after he's had a moment to slump and pant raggedly, dark chest streaked with his own semen and an olive-skinned Venus still sitting in his lap, though the expression on her blushing face isn't what he hoped to see.
He follows her eyes, and they both stare at the button he forgot to press.
LW's hand slams down on it, producing an audible click on the air when the microphone feed cuts out, and a beat later they can hear the rumble of booming laughter filtered through power helmets below, exploding all at once.
They look back at each other. She's as red in the face as the day he met her, that primal sexuality and calm, assertive confidence gone for a moment and replaced with something more similar to her old high-strung self-consciousness, and from how hot he feels above the collar he's willing to believe skin-tone aside she can probably see him blushing too.
They sit like that a moment, horrified with the error and not sure what to do.
She's the one who breaks and laughs first, the sound coming out of her more brightly and clearly than he's heard from her in a long while as she slumps and drops her head onto his shoulder. Soon he's chuckling breathlessly with her, and it becomes hard to stop, both of them laughing deliriously.
When they settle down he puts on another tape of his ramblings to fill in the segments between music, still feeling a bit too embarrassed to face the Wasteland even through a microphone, and she settles into a more comfortable position in his lap, leaning against his chest. He's carding his fingers through her hair, sorting out the knots, when she finally speaks up again.
"So, I think I'll crash a little longer, but when I leave... Yeah I'm just gonna go ahead and take the long way out."
---[Fin]---
Okay so.
A couple of quick notes:
1) Anyone know how old Three Dog is? I don't. Don't care either. Early thirties is a good, sexy age. Argue with me. [/dare]
2) Pitt slavers keep track of what loot they confiscate from which slave AND give it all back after the arena? I REFUSE TO SUSPEND MY DISBELIEF kthxbai.
3) First time writing pronz. Ever. ENJOY POPPING MY CHERRY, OP.
-Authornon collapses. Then begins eyeing this M!LW/sub!Three Dog prompt...-
>_ >;;;