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Red Lace

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Jemma was ready. Or almost. At least she was prepared as she sat in Fitz’s dorm room. Everyone was so used to seeing her that nobody had even glanced at her as she’d run up the stairs, unlocked his door with her key, and went inside. She’d worn loose fitting track pants, an academy jumper, and trainers. All of which she’d taken off as soon as she was in his room.

Jemma checked her lipstick one more time. It was bright red to match the sexy outfit she was wearing, which was racier than anything she’d ever owned. Even ordering it online had made her blush. It was a merry widow that pushed her boobs up, making it appear as if she had a great deal more cleavage than usual. The lace and satin then curved over her waist and hips to the straps that held up the matching stockings. The knickers were barely that, and she’d spent an excruciating twenty minutes shaving her pubic hair in her dorm’s communal shower the night before so she’d look perfect in them.

She had a pair of black heels on that she hoped screamed: “fuck me”. Because this was her last ditch effort. For nearly three years she’d been trying to get her best friend’s attention, dropping increasingly desperate hints that she wanted to be more than friends with him. She’d flirted, spent nights cuddling with him while accidently-on-purpose letting her hands wander awfully close to sensitive areas. Jemma had even tried making him jealous, going so far as to date a couple of lame-brain guys, which had mostly ended up in her learning what she didn’t want in bed and that a vibrator was a girl’s best friend.

Through it all, Fitz just hadn’t noticed her.

He’d dated a couple of girls as well, but those relationships had thankfully fizzled out quickly. They’d at least assured her that he liked girls.

Jemma had started to think he’d never see her as girlfriend material, no matter how smart she was or how compatible they seemed to be in every other way. Graduation was soon, a looming deadline that could see them split up and Jemma losing any chance to be with him in any way, let alone romantically. She was pretty sure she loved him but would be okay with whatever kind of relationship he wanted. Only she was hoping for more. Her heart beat faster when he was near and just seeing him made her day better. They could be amazing lovers, she just knew it.

If only he’d think of her that way. Even once.

Since her campaign of touching and flirting hadn’t worked, she had decided to be direct. If Fitz didn’t get the message that she was interested after this, she’d stop trying. Friends would be okay, and she’d know to stop pining.

What she hadn’t planned for was the waiting, sitting along in Fitz’s dorm room with nothing to do once she’d made the bed and straightened up. He was due back soon, his electrical engineering lab having wrapped up ten minutes ago.

Unless he went to get coffee or went to dinner with someone else. What if he had a girl she didn’t know about? Though she immediately dismissed that idea. Jemma would know if he was seeing anyone.

She perched on the edge of his bed and fidgeted. It was another excruciatingly long five minutes before she heard his key in the door. He entered, his head down and let the door slam shut behind him.

“Hi,” she said, standing up and smoothing down the thin material of the merry widow over her stomach.

“Hi, Jemma! What do you want for dinner? I think—” He looked up at her and the books in his hands hit the floor. His mouth dropped open. “What the bloody hell are you wearing?” he said in a squeaky voice.

“Do you like it?” she purred, or tried to, anyway. A sultry sounding voice wasn’t her strong suit. 

“Do I…” Fitz’s backpack slipped from his shoulder to land with a crash as his eyes swept up and down her body. She had to fight the urge to cover herself. Things weren’t going exactly how she’d been dreaming they would. Most of her fantasies had involved Fitz seizing her and pushing onto the bed while snogging her and she grabbed his ass.

Jemma tried to smile.

“What’s happening?” Fitz said, his eyes finally landing on her face.

She pressed the toe of one shoe against the floor. “Um…we’re going to graduate soon, and you weren’t taking my hints.”

“Hints?” he gasped. “What hints? There were hints?”

Jemma started to think she’d made a very bad decision and was possible ruining the best part of her life. “That I wanted…you know what, never mind, this was a stupid idea. I thought I just hadn’t been clear enough about what I interested in. I’m sorry, can we just forget this?”

Fitz didn’t say anything, and shame burned in her chest. She was supposed to be smart, but now she’d made a hash out of everything. She went to walk past him and grab her clothes, thinking they could go to dinner and talk about absolutely anything else besides how Jemma had just proven she didn’t rate as girlfriend material to the most important person in her life.

Fitz’s arm darted out to the side and haltered her progress. “Wait, no…give me a moment. I’m having a hard time thinking,” he said. He pulled his arm back and settled both his hands on his hips as he bowed his head. He was panting, and she could see his pulse beating wildly in the hollow of his throat. His tie was crooked. She stepped in front of him and straightened it out for him, even though he still wasn’t looking at her.

She smoothed the ends down, and her eyes followed the movement of her hands.

Oh.

Oh, my.

The front of Fitz’s trousers was doing a horrendous job of containing a telltale bulge.

Mesmerized, she started to reach for it, her fingers twitching, only to have Fitz grab her hands and wrap them in his as he rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs.

“Jemma, I need to you state very clearly what’s happening here. Because I can’t work it out. You’re standing here looking like every wet dream I’ve had for almost three years, and I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to function again after seeing you in stockings and…” He raised his eyes to hers, their impossible blue color making her heart stutter. “My current theory is that I tripped and knocked myself unconscious on the way back from the lab. Because there’s no way the woman I need more than I need to breathe is right in front of me wearing bits of satin and lace and saying she’s been giving me hints about wanting me.”

Jemma melted under the intensity of the emotion in his eyes. Hope welled up inside her. Fitz needed her. It was far more than she’d dreamed.

“Touch me,” she whispered as she slowly withdrew her hands from his, took his wrists, and guided his palms to rest on her hips and she stepped closer to him. “This is real. I want you. I thought maybe you didn’t like me…like that. That I was too boring, or too short, or my hair too mousy brown.”

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he said, the tips of his fingers digging into her through the material of her lingerie. Then his brow furrowed. “Wait, Jemma, are you saying you believed you weren’t—”

“Your type?” She placed her hands flat on his chest.

“I’m such an idiot,” he said, scowling. “I couldn’t believe you’d ever…” He hung his head again, which meant he was now looking right down into her cleavage. He made an inarticulate choking sound, and his hands shook. “Oh…no, no, no…Jemma!” His face was even paler than usual. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Fitz swayed, and she pushed him back to his bed. When his legs bumped into it, he sat down, and Jemma plunked herself beside him with a hand on his back, pushing him over to his head was even with his knees.

He gulped down air, and some of the color returned to his cheeks.

“Better?” she asked.

“Getting there,” he said, straightening up.

“Good!” She swung around so she was straddling him with a knee on either side of his legs and her hands on his shoulders. “You never did tell me what you thought of my outfit. I bought it hoping you’d like it, but now I’m thinking the color is too much. Would black have been better? Or white? I was worried I was too pale for white.”

Fitz’s brows were drawn together like she’d asked him to solve world peace and not his preferred lingerie color. Maybe his lab was more difficult than she’d thought, and she should have waited for a time he was less mentally exhausted. He wasn’t even touching her. His hands were hovering over her back, but not on her like she wanted.

“Er…red’s fine…if you’re trying to murder me!”

“What?”

“What am I supposed to do right now?” he asked, eyes searching hers.

“Um, the usual?”

“Homework?”

Had he gone daft? Did she need to take him to A and E? “No, I mean snogging, leading to shagging?” Jemma rolled her hips, delighted to find he was still hard. The press of his erection had heat flooding her belly, and she mewled and ground herself against him. That was more like it.

Fitz put his hands on her back. “It’s a nice outfit. Jemma. Really nice. I like how it…” He trailed off as he looked down again. “Boobs.”

“You can touch,” she said, and he slowly dragged one of his hands around to cup her breast. Instantly her nipples were tight and aching. She arched into his touch. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she brought her mouth to his, kissing him. After a moment, his lips began to move, sliding over hers. He tilted his head slightly, then a fraction more, like he was seeking the perfect angle.

Jemma’s hips stilled as she concentrated on the feel of his mouth. She brushed her tongue against his lower lip, and he gasped slightly as his body jerked, making her moan. Desire was traveling in hot waves through her, and she could feel how slick she was becoming between her legs. Years of pent-up desire was being unleashed, and she was getting desperate.

Fitz’s lips parted, and his tongue touched hers. Almost shyly, the tip of his tongue swirled around hers, and she coaxed it between her lips and into her mouth. He groaned, and the rumbling sound caused fireworks of lust to burst inside her. She closed her lips around his probing tongue and sucked.

Fitz’s hands on her breast and back abruptly flew to her shoulders and pushed her back. He was panting, but his nose was wrinkled up, and he looked not very happy.

“What did I do?” she asked, bewildered. “I’m sorry, tell me, please.”

He sputtered a couple of times, and his hands drifted from her shoulders, lightly tracing the outlines of her merry widow down to her hips. His fingers ran over the straps holding up her stockings, ending up on her knees.

“It’s a lot to take in,” he finally said, sounding pained.

She winced. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get your attention, not like I wanted to. I thought I just needed to try harder.”

He smiled, though it was closer to a grimace. “Trust me, you have it now, but Jemma. God—” He let go of her and flopped backwards on the bed, his hands over his face. She was pretty sure he was mumbling a string of curses.

“Fitz?” she asked, leaning forward, which had the delicious side effect of rubbing her aching clit against the hardness behind his zip.

He peeked at her between his fingers.

“Talk to me, please. I can’t figure out if you’re okay with this or just want me to go away.” Tears threatened. What if he was simply being polite? Humoring her? “Fitz?”

“Don’t go,” he said. “I’m sorry, I’m rubbish at this.”

“No, not at all. I’m so turned on. Let me show you.” She loosely grabbed his wrist, and he let her pull his hand away from his face. She guided it between legs, hooked aside the crotch of her knickers, and pressed his fingertips to her wet pussy.

Fitz’s eyes got very wide, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. The muscles of his legs were rigid. He slid his fingers over her, making her moan when he circled her clit. He did it again and her hips bucked. He was touching her. Fitz was touching her, and it was perfect.

“Please,” she whispered as his fingers stroked her. They inched back, and one found her vaginal opening. Moving so slowly it almost hurt, he pushed inside her. Jemma couldn’t help the sound of pleasure she made, or how her inner muscles clamped around his finger.

Fitz blinked at her, then his eyes rolled up, he grunted, and his hips jerked. A few seconds later he snatched his hand back and rolled to the side, forcing her to move so that she was kneeling beside him. He curled up with his back to her.

What the hell?

“Fitz?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Just go,” he said. “Let me die of embarrassment by myself.”

Jemma frowned. It took her a moment to puzzle out what had happened. He’d come in his pants. From touching her.

She felt a rush of pride, and like she was missing key pieces of information about how Fitz thought about her, which might have led to her drawing incorrect conclusions. Obviously, she needed a complete data set. Lying down, she scooted over to spoon against his back.

“It’s not a problem. You’re nineteen. I doubt your refractory period is that long.”

He made an unhappy noise, and she pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. His hunched shoulders relaxed a fraction.

“But, Fitz, I’d really appreciate it if you’d talk to me. I thought I was so uninteresting to you that I had to dress like this to even get you to notice I was a girl.”

Fitz repeated the unhappy noise, but reached back, patted around until he found her hand, and dragged it around him.

“Jemma, I noticed, trust me, from the first time I saw you.”

“But then why—”

“Because I’m not the kind of guy that can just…I don’t know, hit on a girl. Especially not when she’s the most important one I ever met. The smartest, the funniest, the most beautiful. You’re everything, and I don’t want to mess that up…if I haven’t already.”

“You haven’t.”

“Thank god.” His hand squeezed hers. “I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing fine.”

“I’m trying, but Jemma…I’d never even kissed someone before.”

Wait, what? “But you went out with those girls, whatever their names were.”

“Doesn’t mean I was making out with them. Mostly I was either boring them because I was talking about research and they couldn’t keep up, or I was annoying them because I was talking about you. I only ever asked them out because you’d asked out some guys and I thought I didn’t have a chance.”

“I only went out with those guys to make you jealous.”

“Well, it worked.”

She sighed. “Not in the way I meant it to, obviously.” She did another mental rewind. “I still don’t understand, how can you never have kissed anybody before?” He flinched. “Does that mean—”

“Yes, I’m a virgin. Could you make this any more humiliating?”

“But I don’t understand. You’re brilliant and handsome with a very nice jaw. Your face is wonderfully symmetrical, and your backside fills out your trousers in a very pleasing manner. Surely there’ve been plenty of girls who have thrown themselves at you?”

Fitz didn’t say anything for several heartbeats. “That’s how you see me?”

“Of course.” It should be obvious. He had a mirror.

“Did you hit your head?”

“Excuse me?”

“Because I’m the class nerd who doesn’t say very much. I’m too thin, too short and too smart. I’ve spent my entire life around people much older than me but who didn’t understand what I was saying half the time anyway. I nearly live in a lab. When the hell would I have ever been in any position to have girls look twice at me, let alone throw themselves at me? I thought I would never even have a decent conversation with anyone until I met you, and then it took me forever to work up the nerve to talk to a goddess like yourself. And now you’re here looking like a fantasy. And I’m still not sure I’m not lying unconscious on the pavement somewhere.”

Jemma had no idea what to say.

“This being a dream would almost be better than having shot off in my trousers with you right there, anyways. Some genius I am.”

“I’m happy it’s not a dream,” she said. “I much prefer knowing you fancy me. And premature ejaculation—” Fitz made a distressed noise “—is not unusual during a first sexual encounter. Though I now realize dressing like a tart perhaps wasn’t my best choice.”

Fitz wiggled and then rolled over to face her. He winced and glanced down to where there was an obvious stain on the front of his trousers, which had to be uncomfortable, but he ignored it and put a hand on her cheek. “You look amazing Jemma. I would have sold my soul to see you like this.”

Her cheeks warmed. “No need to be that drastic.” She reached up and undid his tie, sliding it out from around his neck and tossing it on the floor. Jemma pressed a kiss to his jaw, and Fitz scooted closer to her, only to pause, and wrinkle his nose. She patted his chest. “Why don’t you take your kit off? You’ll be more comfortable?”

“Um, sure.” He clambered to his feet and turned his back to her as he undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off. His belt followed, and he unzipped his trousers, then hesitated.

“Let me see,” she urged, biting her lip. Fitz glanced heavenward, then stripped down his trousers and pants, using the latter to quickly wipe off. He scurried to the bed, dropped beside her, and seemed to be trying to position himself so she wouldn’t be able to look at his bits.

Jemma put a hand on his hip to still him, and he immediately sagged against the covers. Even though he was only half hard—she was pleased that she’d been right about his ability to recover—what was there was more than enough to rekindle the fire in her belly. She trailed her fingers up to his cheek. Fitz appeared incredibly nervous, and his eyes darted away from hers.

“Would it make you more comfortable if I was naked as well?”

“Um…I’d rather you stayed wearing that. In case I bollix this up, and you never let me get this close to you again. You look amazing, Jems.”

“Thank you.” She brushed her thumb over his cheek. It was almost a surprise when he ducked his head and kissed her. But now that she knew, she was overly self-conscious that this was his second kiss ever.  She better make it good and—

Jemma gasped as Fitz bowled her onto her back, his lips remaining glued to hers. His tongue swept into her mouth and set about mapping it. It was intoxicating. She moaned, and her fingers slid into his hair. He was kissing her hard. It stoked the fire inside her in the most wonderful way. He sucked at her lips and nipped her lower one, making her cry out. He pulled back, looking dazed.

“Did I hurt you?”

“In a good way.” Her chest was heaving. He was doing incredibly well…though perhaps she shouldn’t be surprised. Fitz usually only needed to be shown a new concept or skill once before he grasped it. There was no reason this should be different.

Instead of returning to her mouth, Fitz kissed his way down her jaw to her neck, pausing to suck and nip at her neck in a way that was going to leave a mark. A white-hot line of desire ran from where he was nuzzling to her clit, making her gasp and hitch her hips.

Fitz seemed oblivious to her growing desire and instead continued to kiss and lick his way down her chest to her breasts, where he hesitated. “Can I?” he asked, sliding the tip of one clever finger between the cherry-red material and her skin.

Jemma nodded, and he pulled the cup down below her breast. His finger skimmed the nipple, teasing the tip before circling it. Fitz leaned down, and he sucked the bud into his hot mouth. Her thighs quivered, and she moaned loudly. It felt good. More than good. Oh god.

He seemed to be experimenting, varying how he was moving his lips and tongue on her nipple until he found just the right angle and amount of suction. Jemma couldn’t stop the keening sound she made or how she arched off the bed.

Fitz let her go. “Was that okay?”

“Very okay, but Fitz, touch me. Touch my cunt, please!”

A line appeared between his brows. “That’s not a word I ever thought I’d hear you say.”

“Well, it’s completely unambiguous.”

“Mostly.” He glanced down at her mons.

“Oh fine, rub my clit. I’m close. Please.”

Fitz yanked down the other side of her outfit to expose that breast, and he suckled the newly freed nipple as he slid his hand down to run over her knickers.

“Fitz!” she cried.

“Hang on, I’m figuring this out,” he grumbled. His grouchiness made Jemma smile. There was her Fitz. She flattened a hand on his back, the warm skin smooth under her palm.

Continuing to pay attention to her breasts with his lips and tongue, he worked his fingers under her lacy knickers and rubbed at her clit.

“Circles,” she gasped.

He groaned, the vibration against her nipple a delicious feeling. “So wet,” he mumbled, more to himself than her as he switched to make little circles on her clit. He was pressing harder than she usually did herself, and the rough callouses on his fingers were doing wonders for her.

It didn’t take much before she was spiraling towards an orgasm. “Fitz,” she gasped as her hips surged off the bed and jerked in aborted thrusts as she came. The pleasure was almost painful as she quivered through it.

Collapsing onto the bed, she opened her eyes to find Fitz staring at her and his mouth hanging open.

She frowned at him.

“D-d-did you just come?” he finally stammered.

“Yes—” the rest of what she was going to say got lost as Fitz dropped his entire weight down on her, forcing her breath out of her lungs.

“Jemma,” he said as he tried to work his hands under her, only to give up and clutch at her arms instead. She could feel his renewed erection poking at her thigh.

She pushed ineffectually at him. “I can’t breathe,” she wheezed out.

“Oh god!” He lifted himself up on his hands, his expression guilty.

After a deep breath, she smiled at him. “Since I just experienced an amazing orgasm—” Fitz looked shyly away from her “—this would be an excellent time for you to initiate coitus. I am sure I’m lubricated enough, and my vaginal walls will be relaxed.”

His eyes had returned to her face, and he was looking askance at her.

“I can use more colloquial language,” she said, feeling defensive. “I’d like you to fuck—”

“No, no, I get it. It’s just a big thing…”

“It certainly is.”

He flushed. “Um, th-thank you? Uh, but I meant an important thing. And I’m really glad it's you, Jemma. You have no idea. And I’m worried I won’t be good enough and…damn it, bloody hell, I don’t have condoms.”

“You’ll do fine, and it’s okay, I didn’t bring any either because I’m on the pill and since we had the required testing last month I know I’m clean.”

“I’m clean too,” he said earnestly, and she felt it was better if she didn’t point out that he’d not had a lot of opportunities to acquire a sexually transmitted disease. “Are you sure you want me?”

“More than anything.”

He traced one of the straps clipped to her stockings. “Should I take your knickers off?”

“It’d take too long, Fitz, I want you now. Just push them to the side again.”

With a fierce look of concentration, he positioned himself in between her spread legs. His stiff cock bobbed enticingly where it hung heavily between his thighs, and Jemma curled her toes in anticipation. She helped him figure out how to put his weight on his elbows before he reached down and positioned the head of his cock against her opening.

Fitz’s breath was ragged as he thrust his hips forward and pushed his prick a few inches inside her. He gasped, and she ran her hands up and down his back in a way she hoped was soothing, though the stretch of her body around his hard shaft was so overwhelming she was barely aware of anything else.

“Jemma,’ he murmured and hitched his pelvis, burying his cock entirely inside her.

She had to close her eyes and focus on her breathing as she adjusted to him. It was perfect. He fit her just right.

Fitz’s forehead pressed against hers and she peeked at him. His eyelids were slammed shut, and the dark sweep of his eyelashes against his cheek was oddly endearing. She tilted her chin up and pressed her lips to his while she brought her legs to loosely wrap around his waist.

“Your stockings feel nice,” he said between kisses.

“And my pussy?”

“I’m trying not to think about that.”

“No?”

“It’s heaven. Warm, wet, perfect heaven.”

She grinned against his lips. “You feel wonderful too.”

“Oh, excellent.”

He rocked slightly, and she mewled. The slid of his cock was extremely pleasant, and it was prodding at just the right spot inside her.  

There was another pause. “Jemma…I, er, I’m not sure I’m going to last very long this time either.”

She stroked down his back with both hands and grabbed his arse. The muscles flexed, and her pussy pulsed in delight. “There’s always later. After you rest, I can remove my knickers, and we can discover how I liked to be licked.”

Fitz’s cocked jerked. “You’ll leave the stockings on?”

“I will,” she confirmed.

“I really need to move,” he said, voice strained.

She didn’t answer verbally, just tightened her hold on his rear and squeezed her inner muscles.

Fitz groaned loudly and started to thrust, quickly picking up speed. It was long before he was ramming into her hard and fast.

The material of her knickers was rubbing against her clit with each rapid thrust and Jemma was amazed to find another climax was swiftly building inside her. She lifted and twisted her hip, meeting his rapid plunges. Her fingers tightened, she held her breath, and with a started exclamation, she came. Bright lights flashed behind her eyelids as she rode out the pleasure that was echoing inside her, spurred higher by Fritz’s unskilled rutting.

He was bucking wildly, murmuring her name over and over, until his hips stuttered, and he lost his rhythm. With a last, deep thrust, he peaked. His cock spasmed as he spent himself in a rush, his entire body shuddering with his bliss.

When his arms gave out as he came back to earth, Jemma managed to direct him to fall to his side next to her, even though she hated losing the feel of his cock being inside her.

Warm come was leaking back out as she straightened the crotch of her knickers. It was going to take her forever to scrub their combined fluids out of the lace. To make her self more comfortable, she also pulled back up the cups of her merry widow.

Fitz’s hand landed on her stomach, and he softly petted her.

She turned her head to find him staring at her, his eyes half-lidded and a wide grin stretching the corners of his mouth.

“You came,” he whispered like it was a secret. “I could feel you, pulsing around my prick.” He trembled for a second. “Bloody hell, you came.”

“You did too,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter as much.”

Her brows drew together. “The knickers did provide quite a bit of clitoral stim—”

“Shh,” he said. “Let me have this.”

She leaned forward and pecked him on the lips. “And your cock does an excellent job of providing pressure right where I need it to.”

Fitz beamed.

His hand continued to run over her outfit as she settled back down.

“You could just wear nothing but this for the rest of time if you want,” he said, sounding sleepy. How typically male of him. Though they didn’t have any classes tomorrow and didn’t have to be at the lab before ten, so there was no harm in napping, having a late dinner, and then continuing to explore each other far into the night.

“I could,” she allowed. “But then you’re going to have to put up with everyone in our classes constantly staring at your girlfriend.”

His eyes flew back open. “You…girlfriend?”

“Yes, I girlfriend.”

“Oh, Jemma.” He lifted his arm, and she rolled over and scooted until she was spooned against him.

“I’m very glad I decided to buy this lingerie,” she said with a yawn.

Fitz hugged her close. “Me too.”