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Sep. 24th, 2009 06:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
http://users.livejournal.com/_samalander/ posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
startrek_diaryOkay, if Pixy can share her art, I'm going to share with you my Giotto/McKenna first-time smut.
Also I accidentally posted this in my personal journal OH THE SHAME. So if you saw it there, this is where I meant to put it.
Title: So Very Right
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_samalander
Fandom: STD. Yes. We're a fandom now.
Ship: Giotto/McKenna
Spoilers:
Rating: NC-17. X. SEX SEX SEX.
Summary: They've been so very patient.
Thanks tobubbles_san for beta'ing. She also wrote some morning after stuff, but we never finished it and I wanted to share some PR0N.
WARNINGS: This is the story of a 35-year-old teacher finally having sex with his 17-year-old student. Technically, they no longer have this relationship, but they did and if the age thing or the relationship thing or anything else freaks you out, you shouldn't read it.
Also, I don't usually write smut. Be gentle.
He had been wanting this for months.
When they met, he was her teacher. She was a somewhat gangly 16-year-old, all knees and elbows. She had dark skin, dark eyes, and a dark banner of hair that swung behind her when she walked. He would have to admit to himself that, even then, he found her attractive.
But he hadn't indulged it. She was a child to him. Until circumstances arose in which it became clear she wanted him and was allowed to make that decision, he hadn't dared to hope for this, feeling her press against him, kiss the breath out of his lungs, hold his face in her hands. He had been good - slowly, deliberately and painfully good - by not sleeping with or kissing or even holding her hand until the year was over and he wasn't a teacher anymore.
And the year had ended yesterday.
---
She felt the nerves in her stomach, knotting and unknotting compulsively. She was absolutely in love with him. She had no doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted, what she needed.
Of course, at first it had been about the thrill. The jolt of adrenaline when she thought about a teacher falling for her. The prickle of electricity when he touched her arm. The deep something in the pit of her stomach when he looked at her like she was the greatest thing he'd ever seen.
Like she was beautiful.
But later, it was about his sense of humor and his hands and the silly, romantic things he did for her when no one else was around.
He was more than twice her age - 35 to her 17 - and prematurely gray. He had all the reflexes of a man with sixteen years of Starfleet Security training and had saved her life (and the lives of her friends) more times that she really cared to dwell on.
---
"Caroline," he whispered, his lips pulling back from hers.
For the first time, they were truly alone together, and themselves. He was no longer a teacher at her school, she was no longer too young to make decisions. They could finally do this, finally just kiss without the fear of discovery.
She had come to his house, only the second time she had been allowed to do that without a chaperone, and the first while he was an adult. It always struck her how large it was, for a man with a teacher's salary, and how it was comfortable in a way that disarmed her.
He had poured them wine - in the middle of the afternoon - and they had sat on his couch for a while, just talking. She realized, during a story he told, that all she could do was stare at his lips, the way he formed words or gently sipped his wine. All she wanted to know was the taste of wine on those lips, the scratch of stubble, the gentle warmth of him. She was staring, she knew, but she hadn't even noticed he stopped talking until he reached forward, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.
That's when they had kissed. Like a romance novel, she knew. Like something out of a bad movie. He was using moves on her. But part of her was jumping anyway. After six and a half months of this, he finally kissed her and it was sweet and gentle and she thought she was going to die just there, finally knowing what it was to kiss Tony Giotto.
And then he said her name, and the syllables echoed through her whole body. In her world, the tiny world of his arms and his lips and the couch and the wine, there was nothing more that she needed.
---
He stood and gently took her hand, pulling her to her feet too quickly, so she stumbled into him. The press of her slim form against his was almost too much.
"Ti amo," he whispered, defaulting to Italian, their own secret language, and dipped his head to steal another kiss. She responded warmly, hands flat against his chest and need radiating from her pores.
He broke the kiss before he wanted to, pulling back with all the power he possessed. Her eyes left his face for a moment, and he followed her gaze to the stairs which they both knew led to his bedroom.
"Are you sure?" he asked, gently. He was achingly aware that this was new to her, that she was trusting him further than she'd ever trusted anyone.
She smiled at him and placed one hand on his cheek. "Mi fido di te," she said, a in an instant he was holding her like a new bride, her surprised arms encircling his neck, and carrying her up the stairs and over the threshold of his bedroom.
---
She felt the breath catch as he cleared the doorway. The room she'd never seen in the house she'd rarely been to was exactly what she thought it would be.
Pictures of family, crewmates and friends littered every available surface, but had been turned or laid down so they didn't face the bed. The walls were a deep green, and the bed, the centerpiece of the room, was an old, wooden-framed behemoth with crisp ivory sheets. He laid her on it gently, and she felt a laugh bubble from her throat and she pulled him down with her, and she silenced herself by pressing their lips together again.
"No rose petals? No candles?" she didn't mean for it to sound harsh, but her throat had dried out at some point and her voice sounded alien and strange.
"Just you," he grinned, kissing her forehead. "Wonderful, perfect, beautiful you."
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but willed it not the show. He tenderly reached out and stroked her face with the back of his hand, one of the rough hands she loved so very much. She caught it in her own smaller ones and lifted it to her mouth, laying a kiss in the center of his calloused palm.
Tony moaned, a low sigh in the back of his throat. "Kid, if you need me to stop, any time, you say it, okay?"
She nodded and sat up, her hands finding the hem of her tank top and pulling it over her head.
---
He had seen her in a sports bra before; it was her preferred costume for sparring. But it was nothing like the silk-lace-sexy thing she was wearing now, and something about the way she clung to the fabric of her shirt, hesitant to cast it aside, reminded him of how fragile his roaring Amazon could be. It was all he could do not to gather her into his arms again and murmur comfort. That wasn't what she wanted or needed right now.
Instead, he reached for the skin on her stomach, running his fingertips across her while his mouth went to work at her neck, kissing and licking and nipping at the bits of exposed flesh. He smiled at the needy little noise she made, and the way her hands crept under his shirt and up his back, pulling the garment with them. He paused his attentions long enough to pull his shirt over his head, and she reached out to trace a scar that ran from his left side to just under his neck.
"What's this?"
"A battle scar, I guess. The accident that got me discharged. I didn't ever want to forget."
She smiled sadly; it was a story she'd only heard once, and one she knew he hated to talk about. Gently, she leaned in and kiss the top of it, smiling into his chest.
"I love you," she whispered, her mouth again seeking his.
Everything about them was electric - the slide of skin as she moved against him, the flutter of her eyelids as he reached back to undo her bra and slid the silky material down her arms, revealing her breasts, the salty taste of her skin as he kissed down her neck and began tracing the lines of her chest with his tongue, spiraling inwards, reveling in her breathy exclamation.
"Tony!" His name rolled off her lips like a small prayer.
He smiled against her, flicking his tongue against her hardening nipple. "Sei mia per sempre," he murmured.
He felt her fingers card through his hair and she pulled their faces together again, slipping her tongue into his mouth and running her hands down his back. She pulled back with a devilish grin and quickly, utilizing what he recognized as a modified granby roll, a move he had taught her, for goodness sake, she flipped him onto his back, and straddled his hips.
---
Caroline found herself in control for the first time since Tony had started kissing her, and she took in the sight of her man, lying prone under her. He was gazing up at her, a grin on his face.
"Dove sei stato per tutta la mia vita?" he asked, and she smiled broadly.
"Something about all your life?" she asked.
He nodded and reached up to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger. "You steal my standard, kid. Where have you been all my life?"
She grinned down at him. "I've always been yours," she said, rolling her hips a little, feeling his arousal hot against her thigh. "You just didn't know it."
He bit his lip, and she could practically feel him trying to count to ten in his head, trying to calm himself down. "Computer," he called, suddenly. "Play file 'Caroline One'."
She furrowed her brow as the computer chirped its assent, and broke into a giant grin as strands of music began to drift through the room.
Today this could be, the greatest day of our lives...
The music shook her back to the first time he had held her, twirling across the gym floor at school, and then under the stars. "Our song," she sighed. "You-"
"We'll always dance to this song," he told her. "Always."
She leaned into kiss him again, shifting her weight so she could undo the zipper of his pants. He growled deep in his throat as she ran her fingers under the waistband of his boxers. "Ti desidero," he breathed, bucking his hips up into her touch.
She took advantage of his movement to slide his pants and boxers down, exposing his flushed erection. Slowly, keeping her eyes locked with his, she wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and began to slide down his body, stopping to lick and kiss the insides of his thighs.
He left out a strangled noise, half moan and half sob as she ran the flat of her tongue along the underside of his swollen erection and sucked the tip into her mouth. "Caroline," he gasped, "wait."
"Did I hurt you?" she asked, abruptly releasing him and almost jumping back.
He closed his eyes and reached for her. Slowly, she crawled up the bed and settled into his arms. "No," he said, kissing her forehead. "Just the opposite. Too good, too much. Besides," he murmured, and she found herself on her back again, his face grinning down at her. "This is supposed to be about you."
Caroline felt a shiver run through her, as he ran his hands down her sides to the top of her jeans. "And you," he whispered in her ear, "are wearing entirely too much clothing."
It was almost surreal, she thought, finally doing this after six and a half months of waiting and wishing. Her thoughts, however, were wiped out by the slow movement of his mouth as be began to kiss down her neck and across her chest, stopping to nip at each nipple, tearing a moan from her throat.
"Fuck," she sighed as he resumed his path, languishing kisses down her sides and across her stomach as his hands busied themselves with divesting her of her pants. She felt exposed, wonderfully so, when she realized she was wearing nothing except for a red thong and a thin sheen of sweat.
"Voglio gusti," he groaned, moving ever down her body, kissing every inch of available skin. "Ti voglio scopare. Tu mi appartieni. Sei tutta la mia vita."
She didn't understand half of it - she'd been studying for months, but still only skimmed the surface of Italian. All she knew was he was brimming with need, with love, and it was all for her.
She felt her knees begin to shake as he hooked his thumbs into the band of fabric. "Caroline?"
"I'm fine. Just... you."
He nodded, but withdrew his hands, leaving the underwear in place. "We can st-"
"If you say stop I swear to god I will kill you. I want you, please. I need you."
When he looked like he might keep delaying, she exhaled furiously and lifted her hips, pulling her underwear to her knees in one quick motion. She would have finished the job, had he not had has hands on her calves. The idea of one more moment without his touch was too terrible to even contemplate. He froze completely, taking time to just look, to drink in the sight of her body.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed leaning down again to kiss the top of her still shaking knee. Gingerly, he began kissing back up her leg, his hands resting on her hips.
Caroline closed her eyes and held her breath, trying to still her anxious heart. His breath was hot against her, and one hand reached out to brush delicately against her pubic hair, sending a shiver all the way through her. So slowly she thought she might actually explode, he reached between her legs with the other hand and gently parted her lips. He breathed deeply, savoring the scent, the sight, the whole of his love, his girl, his Caroline.
"Lo adoro," he muttered, darting his thumb in to brush against her exposed clit. She whined, a beautiful sound, and bucked up into his touch. It was all he could do; forgetting to be gentle, forgetting to savor the moment, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, licking up the length of her slit and sucking her clit into his mouth, and then pulling back to use his tongue, to write his love across her with just the tip.
She was keening, her hands kneading the sheets, and he grew bold. Slowly, he pressed a finger into her and stroked, wishing he could drink the delightful little noises she was making like so much sweet wine. He worked into a rhythm, inscribing Dante with his tongue while one, and then two fingers worked into her. Her gasps and pleads were like a prayer, one that was only Tony and yes and please.
It took only a few minutes before she was grabbing at his hair, her hips shooting off the bed and her neck hyperextending, writhing in his hands. Her cunt began to flicker around his fingers, and he kept the pace, hoping she would ride through her orgasm and be ready for more.
"God!" she cried, breathless. "Fuck! Tony!"
He slid up her, gathering her into his arms and holding tight. It was a matter of moments before she stilled, her breathing returning to normal.
"You alright?"
She rolled her eyes and pressed his shoulders down into the mattress. "No. And I won't be. Not until you fuck me."
He swallowed hard, and reached towards his bedside table for a condom, but she caught his wrist, stopping him.
"Please, I've been on birth control hypos since I was 14. I want you in me. Just you." He whimpered with need and she grinned wickedly. "So, you're a fan of dirty talk?" Helplessly, he nodded and shivered as she climbed on top of him, and then leaned down until their noses were almost touching. He bit his lip, trying to steady himself, and she slowly, painfully traced the line of his lips with her tongue before kissing him, hard and deep.
"You taste like my cunt," she told him, the devilish look returning to her eyes.
He groaned and grabbed at her hips, which she had been shifting just enough to drive him completely insane. "Caroline," he gasped, and she took the hint. Rising up on her knees, she reached between them to grasp the base of his cock and began to lower herself onto it.
So slowly that he thought he was going to die, Tony felt Caroline's hot wet pressure engulf him, until she stilled against him, one hand resting lightly against his chest
"Cavolo, ragazza," he swore, before pulling her close and ravaging her mouth with his tongue.
"I know," she sighed against his cheek, and he felt her impossible tightness somehow clench around him. "Fuck me," she begged. "Please, Tony, just fuck me."
"Caroline," he growled, grabbing her hips and rolling them so he was on top. "Oh, Caroline! Amore mio. Ho bisogno di te."
His world faded into a white blur, the taste of her skin and the heat of her body and the incredible, tight sensation of being buried deep in her. He knew he was being rough, knew he had lost control. He found himself biting down on her shoulder, holding her wrists about her head simply consumed by the sensation of finally having her after so long.
"Come for me," he panted, pulling back long enough to reach between them and thumb her clit once more. She bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut. It was all he could do. He thrust into her once more, hard, and she felt him come inside her.
Gentleness returning, he kissed her once more and began to roll off of her. "I owe you anoth-"
"No," she gasped, grabbing onto his arms. "Stay. Stay in me. Just, stay."
"Caroline," he breathed in her ear before kissing her neck gently. "You- I love you. Ti amo. Tu sei la mia stella." He held onto her as he softened and slipped out, and then he rolled onto his back and she settled against his chest.
---
They slept for a few hours, Caroline safely wrapped in the circle of Tony's arms. Lucy would be with them that evening, they were leaving for Venice in a few days, and there was still so much to be done.
But for now, they were together. And it was enough.
HAY HERE IS HOW TO TALK DIRTY IN ITALIAN!
Ti amo. - I love you.
Mi fido di te. - I trust you.
Sei mia per sempre. - You are mine forever.
Dove sei stato per tutta la mia vita? - Where have you been all my life?
Voglio gusti. - I want to taste you.
Ti voglio scopare. - I want to fuck you.
Tu mi appartieni. - You belong to me.
Sei tutta la mia vita. - You are my whole life.
Lo adoro. - I worship you.
Cavolo, ragazza. - Damn, kid. (Literally, "Cabbage, girl." Italian is awesome.)
Amore mio. - My love.
Ho bisogno di te. - I need you.
Tu sei la mia stella. - You are my star.
Also I accidentally posted this in my personal journal OH THE SHAME. So if you saw it there, this is where I meant to put it.
Title: So Very Right
Author:
_samalanderFandom: STD. Yes. We're a fandom now.
Ship: Giotto/McKenna
Spoilers:
Rating: NC-17. X. SEX SEX SEX.
Summary: They've been so very patient.
Thanks to
bubbles_san for beta'ing. She also wrote some morning after stuff, but we never finished it and I wanted to share some PR0N.WARNINGS: This is the story of a 35-year-old teacher finally having sex with his 17-year-old student. Technically, they no longer have this relationship, but they did and if the age thing or the relationship thing or anything else freaks you out, you shouldn't read it.
Also, I don't usually write smut. Be gentle.
He had been wanting this for months.
When they met, he was her teacher. She was a somewhat gangly 16-year-old, all knees and elbows. She had dark skin, dark eyes, and a dark banner of hair that swung behind her when she walked. He would have to admit to himself that, even then, he found her attractive.
But he hadn't indulged it. She was a child to him. Until circumstances arose in which it became clear she wanted him and was allowed to make that decision, he hadn't dared to hope for this, feeling her press against him, kiss the breath out of his lungs, hold his face in her hands. He had been good - slowly, deliberately and painfully good - by not sleeping with or kissing or even holding her hand until the year was over and he wasn't a teacher anymore.
And the year had ended yesterday.
---
She felt the nerves in her stomach, knotting and unknotting compulsively. She was absolutely in love with him. She had no doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted, what she needed.
Of course, at first it had been about the thrill. The jolt of adrenaline when she thought about a teacher falling for her. The prickle of electricity when he touched her arm. The deep something in the pit of her stomach when he looked at her like she was the greatest thing he'd ever seen.
Like she was beautiful.
But later, it was about his sense of humor and his hands and the silly, romantic things he did for her when no one else was around.
He was more than twice her age - 35 to her 17 - and prematurely gray. He had all the reflexes of a man with sixteen years of Starfleet Security training and had saved her life (and the lives of her friends) more times that she really cared to dwell on.
---
"Caroline," he whispered, his lips pulling back from hers.
For the first time, they were truly alone together, and themselves. He was no longer a teacher at her school, she was no longer too young to make decisions. They could finally do this, finally just kiss without the fear of discovery.
She had come to his house, only the second time she had been allowed to do that without a chaperone, and the first while he was an adult. It always struck her how large it was, for a man with a teacher's salary, and how it was comfortable in a way that disarmed her.
He had poured them wine - in the middle of the afternoon - and they had sat on his couch for a while, just talking. She realized, during a story he told, that all she could do was stare at his lips, the way he formed words or gently sipped his wine. All she wanted to know was the taste of wine on those lips, the scratch of stubble, the gentle warmth of him. She was staring, she knew, but she hadn't even noticed he stopped talking until he reached forward, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.
That's when they had kissed. Like a romance novel, she knew. Like something out of a bad movie. He was using moves on her. But part of her was jumping anyway. After six and a half months of this, he finally kissed her and it was sweet and gentle and she thought she was going to die just there, finally knowing what it was to kiss Tony Giotto.
And then he said her name, and the syllables echoed through her whole body. In her world, the tiny world of his arms and his lips and the couch and the wine, there was nothing more that she needed.
---
He stood and gently took her hand, pulling her to her feet too quickly, so she stumbled into him. The press of her slim form against his was almost too much.
"Ti amo," he whispered, defaulting to Italian, their own secret language, and dipped his head to steal another kiss. She responded warmly, hands flat against his chest and need radiating from her pores.
He broke the kiss before he wanted to, pulling back with all the power he possessed. Her eyes left his face for a moment, and he followed her gaze to the stairs which they both knew led to his bedroom.
"Are you sure?" he asked, gently. He was achingly aware that this was new to her, that she was trusting him further than she'd ever trusted anyone.
She smiled at him and placed one hand on his cheek. "Mi fido di te," she said, a in an instant he was holding her like a new bride, her surprised arms encircling his neck, and carrying her up the stairs and over the threshold of his bedroom.
---
She felt the breath catch as he cleared the doorway. The room she'd never seen in the house she'd rarely been to was exactly what she thought it would be.
Pictures of family, crewmates and friends littered every available surface, but had been turned or laid down so they didn't face the bed. The walls were a deep green, and the bed, the centerpiece of the room, was an old, wooden-framed behemoth with crisp ivory sheets. He laid her on it gently, and she felt a laugh bubble from her throat and she pulled him down with her, and she silenced herself by pressing their lips together again.
"No rose petals? No candles?" she didn't mean for it to sound harsh, but her throat had dried out at some point and her voice sounded alien and strange.
"Just you," he grinned, kissing her forehead. "Wonderful, perfect, beautiful you."
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but willed it not the show. He tenderly reached out and stroked her face with the back of his hand, one of the rough hands she loved so very much. She caught it in her own smaller ones and lifted it to her mouth, laying a kiss in the center of his calloused palm.
Tony moaned, a low sigh in the back of his throat. "Kid, if you need me to stop, any time, you say it, okay?"
She nodded and sat up, her hands finding the hem of her tank top and pulling it over her head.
---
He had seen her in a sports bra before; it was her preferred costume for sparring. But it was nothing like the silk-lace-sexy thing she was wearing now, and something about the way she clung to the fabric of her shirt, hesitant to cast it aside, reminded him of how fragile his roaring Amazon could be. It was all he could do not to gather her into his arms again and murmur comfort. That wasn't what she wanted or needed right now.
Instead, he reached for the skin on her stomach, running his fingertips across her while his mouth went to work at her neck, kissing and licking and nipping at the bits of exposed flesh. He smiled at the needy little noise she made, and the way her hands crept under his shirt and up his back, pulling the garment with them. He paused his attentions long enough to pull his shirt over his head, and she reached out to trace a scar that ran from his left side to just under his neck.
"What's this?"
"A battle scar, I guess. The accident that got me discharged. I didn't ever want to forget."
She smiled sadly; it was a story she'd only heard once, and one she knew he hated to talk about. Gently, she leaned in and kiss the top of it, smiling into his chest.
"I love you," she whispered, her mouth again seeking his.
Everything about them was electric - the slide of skin as she moved against him, the flutter of her eyelids as he reached back to undo her bra and slid the silky material down her arms, revealing her breasts, the salty taste of her skin as he kissed down her neck and began tracing the lines of her chest with his tongue, spiraling inwards, reveling in her breathy exclamation.
"Tony!" His name rolled off her lips like a small prayer.
He smiled against her, flicking his tongue against her hardening nipple. "Sei mia per sempre," he murmured.
He felt her fingers card through his hair and she pulled their faces together again, slipping her tongue into his mouth and running her hands down his back. She pulled back with a devilish grin and quickly, utilizing what he recognized as a modified granby roll, a move he had taught her, for goodness sake, she flipped him onto his back, and straddled his hips.
---
Caroline found herself in control for the first time since Tony had started kissing her, and she took in the sight of her man, lying prone under her. He was gazing up at her, a grin on his face.
"Dove sei stato per tutta la mia vita?" he asked, and she smiled broadly.
"Something about all your life?" she asked.
He nodded and reached up to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger. "You steal my standard, kid. Where have you been all my life?"
She grinned down at him. "I've always been yours," she said, rolling her hips a little, feeling his arousal hot against her thigh. "You just didn't know it."
He bit his lip, and she could practically feel him trying to count to ten in his head, trying to calm himself down. "Computer," he called, suddenly. "Play file 'Caroline One'."
She furrowed her brow as the computer chirped its assent, and broke into a giant grin as strands of music began to drift through the room.
Today this could be, the greatest day of our lives...
The music shook her back to the first time he had held her, twirling across the gym floor at school, and then under the stars. "Our song," she sighed. "You-"
"We'll always dance to this song," he told her. "Always."
She leaned into kiss him again, shifting her weight so she could undo the zipper of his pants. He growled deep in his throat as she ran her fingers under the waistband of his boxers. "Ti desidero," he breathed, bucking his hips up into her touch.
She took advantage of his movement to slide his pants and boxers down, exposing his flushed erection. Slowly, keeping her eyes locked with his, she wrapped one hand around the base of his cock and began to slide down his body, stopping to lick and kiss the insides of his thighs.
He left out a strangled noise, half moan and half sob as she ran the flat of her tongue along the underside of his swollen erection and sucked the tip into her mouth. "Caroline," he gasped, "wait."
"Did I hurt you?" she asked, abruptly releasing him and almost jumping back.
He closed his eyes and reached for her. Slowly, she crawled up the bed and settled into his arms. "No," he said, kissing her forehead. "Just the opposite. Too good, too much. Besides," he murmured, and she found herself on her back again, his face grinning down at her. "This is supposed to be about you."
Caroline felt a shiver run through her, as he ran his hands down her sides to the top of her jeans. "And you," he whispered in her ear, "are wearing entirely too much clothing."
It was almost surreal, she thought, finally doing this after six and a half months of waiting and wishing. Her thoughts, however, were wiped out by the slow movement of his mouth as be began to kiss down her neck and across her chest, stopping to nip at each nipple, tearing a moan from her throat.
"Fuck," she sighed as he resumed his path, languishing kisses down her sides and across her stomach as his hands busied themselves with divesting her of her pants. She felt exposed, wonderfully so, when she realized she was wearing nothing except for a red thong and a thin sheen of sweat.
"Voglio gusti," he groaned, moving ever down her body, kissing every inch of available skin. "Ti voglio scopare. Tu mi appartieni. Sei tutta la mia vita."
She didn't understand half of it - she'd been studying for months, but still only skimmed the surface of Italian. All she knew was he was brimming with need, with love, and it was all for her.
She felt her knees begin to shake as he hooked his thumbs into the band of fabric. "Caroline?"
"I'm fine. Just... you."
He nodded, but withdrew his hands, leaving the underwear in place. "We can st-"
"If you say stop I swear to god I will kill you. I want you, please. I need you."
When he looked like he might keep delaying, she exhaled furiously and lifted her hips, pulling her underwear to her knees in one quick motion. She would have finished the job, had he not had has hands on her calves. The idea of one more moment without his touch was too terrible to even contemplate. He froze completely, taking time to just look, to drink in the sight of her body.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed leaning down again to kiss the top of her still shaking knee. Gingerly, he began kissing back up her leg, his hands resting on her hips.
Caroline closed her eyes and held her breath, trying to still her anxious heart. His breath was hot against her, and one hand reached out to brush delicately against her pubic hair, sending a shiver all the way through her. So slowly she thought she might actually explode, he reached between her legs with the other hand and gently parted her lips. He breathed deeply, savoring the scent, the sight, the whole of his love, his girl, his Caroline.
"Lo adoro," he muttered, darting his thumb in to brush against her exposed clit. She whined, a beautiful sound, and bucked up into his touch. It was all he could do; forgetting to be gentle, forgetting to savor the moment, he grabbed her hips and pulled her to him, licking up the length of her slit and sucking her clit into his mouth, and then pulling back to use his tongue, to write his love across her with just the tip.
She was keening, her hands kneading the sheets, and he grew bold. Slowly, he pressed a finger into her and stroked, wishing he could drink the delightful little noises she was making like so much sweet wine. He worked into a rhythm, inscribing Dante with his tongue while one, and then two fingers worked into her. Her gasps and pleads were like a prayer, one that was only Tony and yes and please.
It took only a few minutes before she was grabbing at his hair, her hips shooting off the bed and her neck hyperextending, writhing in his hands. Her cunt began to flicker around his fingers, and he kept the pace, hoping she would ride through her orgasm and be ready for more.
"God!" she cried, breathless. "Fuck! Tony!"
He slid up her, gathering her into his arms and holding tight. It was a matter of moments before she stilled, her breathing returning to normal.
"You alright?"
She rolled her eyes and pressed his shoulders down into the mattress. "No. And I won't be. Not until you fuck me."
He swallowed hard, and reached towards his bedside table for a condom, but she caught his wrist, stopping him.
"Please, I've been on birth control hypos since I was 14. I want you in me. Just you." He whimpered with need and she grinned wickedly. "So, you're a fan of dirty talk?" Helplessly, he nodded and shivered as she climbed on top of him, and then leaned down until their noses were almost touching. He bit his lip, trying to steady himself, and she slowly, painfully traced the line of his lips with her tongue before kissing him, hard and deep.
"You taste like my cunt," she told him, the devilish look returning to her eyes.
He groaned and grabbed at her hips, which she had been shifting just enough to drive him completely insane. "Caroline," he gasped, and she took the hint. Rising up on her knees, she reached between them to grasp the base of his cock and began to lower herself onto it.
So slowly that he thought he was going to die, Tony felt Caroline's hot wet pressure engulf him, until she stilled against him, one hand resting lightly against his chest
"Cavolo, ragazza," he swore, before pulling her close and ravaging her mouth with his tongue.
"I know," she sighed against his cheek, and he felt her impossible tightness somehow clench around him. "Fuck me," she begged. "Please, Tony, just fuck me."
"Caroline," he growled, grabbing her hips and rolling them so he was on top. "Oh, Caroline! Amore mio. Ho bisogno di te."
His world faded into a white blur, the taste of her skin and the heat of her body and the incredible, tight sensation of being buried deep in her. He knew he was being rough, knew he had lost control. He found himself biting down on her shoulder, holding her wrists about her head simply consumed by the sensation of finally having her after so long.
"Come for me," he panted, pulling back long enough to reach between them and thumb her clit once more. She bit her lip and screwed her eyes shut. It was all he could do. He thrust into her once more, hard, and she felt him come inside her.
Gentleness returning, he kissed her once more and began to roll off of her. "I owe you anoth-"
"No," she gasped, grabbing onto his arms. "Stay. Stay in me. Just, stay."
"Caroline," he breathed in her ear before kissing her neck gently. "You- I love you. Ti amo. Tu sei la mia stella." He held onto her as he softened and slipped out, and then he rolled onto his back and she settled against his chest.
---
They slept for a few hours, Caroline safely wrapped in the circle of Tony's arms. Lucy would be with them that evening, they were leaving for Venice in a few days, and there was still so much to be done.
But for now, they were together. And it was enough.
HAY HERE IS HOW TO TALK DIRTY IN ITALIAN!
Ti amo. - I love you.
Mi fido di te. - I trust you.
Sei mia per sempre. - You are mine forever.
Dove sei stato per tutta la mia vita? - Where have you been all my life?
Voglio gusti. - I want to taste you.
Ti voglio scopare. - I want to fuck you.
Tu mi appartieni. - You belong to me.
Sei tutta la mia vita. - You are my whole life.
Lo adoro. - I worship you.
Cavolo, ragazza. - Damn, kid. (Literally, "Cabbage, girl." Italian is awesome.)
Amore mio. - My love.
Ho bisogno di te. - I need you.
Tu sei la mia stella. - You are my star.
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Date: 2009-09-24 11:22 pm (UTC)...STD really is a fandom in itself. oh man.
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Date: 2009-09-25 01:19 am (UTC)And it is. People outside in other ST comms would be like "...who?"
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Date: 2009-09-25 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-25 07:19 am (UTC)And that's a big deal because I don't like het.
Seriously, you made me like het. That's fucking talent.
This is damn good prons, m'ladies. Loving and perfect for them. YOU GET THE PORN A* (It's like a regular A* but you can't post it on your fridge unless you have really open minded parents.)
\o/
Also, YEASH FOR STD FANDOM. I think we've successfully played with even the main ST characters so much that they're unrecognisable as their original counterparts. Kiki =/= Hikaru Sulu in my mind. (Although Pav is still ridiculously IC, so whether it's different for characters you play or Kitty just kicks my ass at RPing I'm unsure.)
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Date: 2009-09-25 01:13 pm (UTC)And I live by myself, so unless my cats are going to judge what's on the fridge (and if they do then dammit they can clean their own litterbox, ungrateful sods) this will be FRAMED and placed in a position of HIGH HONOR.
And yeah, we totally have our own fannon here, don't we?
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Date: 2009-09-25 12:56 pm (UTC)Thank you!
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Date: 2009-09-27 06:32 am (UTC)... I had to like, compose myself. Seriously. I sat down away from the computer and closed my eyes and breathed for five minutes, and then I said, "Okay." And I clicked. And I read.
And you
with the
and the
and them
I. I really can't even.
... thank you. This was exquisite.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-27 10:58 pm (UTC)