Actions

Work Header

Make Up Your Mind To Have No Regrets

Work Text:

*********

 

You MUST be drunk. It's the only explanation for this. The only reason you should be obligingly handcuffed to your bed. Naked. With Patty Hewes hovering above you, smiling that chastire smile.

 

But you're not 'drunk'. Two shots of tequila has not gotten you drunk since high school.No, you've built a tolerance for alcohol over the years that is alarmingly high, and that you like to blame on Patty and her--casual bourbon snack breaks. 

 

Of course there isn't much to blame on her anymore, because you haven't worked for Patty for a while now, and so your drinking habits are of your own doing, but still--there's got to be an excuse for this.

 

You lift your head and steal a kiss that lasts longer than she anticipated and you can't help but smile at the dazed look in her eyes when she finally pulls away. Your head drops back against the pillow and you sigh without knowing it when Patty wraps her lips around your nipple and swirls her tongue around it before she sucks just a bit and then does something of the same effect to other, this time you lick your lips and thoughtlessly pull at your hands. The metal pinches your wrists and you hiss at the same time that you buck your hips.

 

She pulls back now, releasing your nipple with an audible sound. She's straddling your bare stomach, her skirt is hiked up well past mid thigh and she grinds down playfully, "Lie still." She says, her voice like velvet, and then she does it again. And you feel it. She is lacking underwear and you are suddenly lacking all coherent thought because she came into your apartment with every intention to fuck you silly and nothing else.

 

You feel her arousal, slick against your skin and suddenly, your pulling at the handcuffs again, desperate to touch her because you love it when she's like this, uninhibited, just out of a successful settlement, probably inebriated. You give a little grunt of frustration when the metal cuffs don't give and then she shakes her head, clicking her tongue to the roof of her mouth as she pulls her jacket off and tosses it aside without a single consideration. She is most definitely drunk. But what else would she be at two in the morning?

 

She showed up at your door with a peculiar look in her eyes and she was kissing you the second you pulled her in and closed the door. You should have known better when she very seductively suggested she'd tie you to the bed. You should have known she meant 'handcuff'.

 

She reaches for the top button of her shirt. It's this deep blue number that brings out her eyes and makes her skin look even more pale than usual. When the second button is undone, you can see the swell of her breasts, encased in blue lace. Your mouth waters. "Please," You pathetically mumble, but she shakes her head again and stops when she's doing to lean over and she sighs softly against your ear. Your entire body hums with arousal now and you squirm under the weight of her.

 

"I won today--" She says, pausing to nuzzle your ear just briefly, "--I'm here to claim my price." You can literally feel her smile before she's disappears southward again, trailing her mouth across your stomach, leaving a ghost trail of kisses that are slowly driving you crazy. Somewhere between your belly button and your hips, she sits up a gets rid of her shirt, the bra is gone in less than a second and she's easing your legs apart with the flat of her palms softly against each thigh before she uses her tongue to make you just a little more aware of exactly what a great win she had today.

 

She wasn't kidding either, about claiming her prize. She takes her time with long, luxurious swipes of her tongue everywhere, slowly--drawing out a moan here, a grunt there and breathless exclamations in the form of her name. She has full control of the way your body writhes and arches and you have to no problem with that because the heat is building, slowly but intensely and when she dips her tongue inside you, you're sure you can't breathe. Your legs spread even wider at the sensation she causes and before you can get used to it, she's licking and sucking at your clit in rapid motion and you're pretty close to screaming as your hips thrust forward in equal rhythm and your body shakes violently with the orgasm that hits you harder than you expected.

 

In between incomprehensible mumbling, you manage to ask her to stop once you can't take it and all you can hear is your own heartbeat, rapid in your ears. You're not sure you even register that you've been pulling so hard at the handcuffs, that your wrists are red, or that she's suddenly crawled up your body--not until she's kissing you. She smells like you, and tastes like you, and she wants you to know it. She kicks the roof of your mouth, exhales against your cheek as you kiss her back with just enough intent.

 

She shifts and straddles your thigh. She begins to move against it. Short strokes filled with purpose that tell you she's already close--she's so very wet against you and you have to feel this for yourself. There's no way you can't.

 

"Please--" You manage in between gasps as you pull away, tugging again at your arms, which seem to be growing numb, "--let me. I want to touch you."

 

Gradually, she stops, burying her face in your shoulder as she wills her body to pause. She's panting heavily and for a second you wonder if she came after all. But she moves eventually, and reaches for a small key you hadn't noticed hanging from her wrist before.

 

The handcuffs are gone, tossed somewhere across your bedroom and soon you have her flat on her back, with three fingers knuckle deep inside her and she's panting.

 

You watch as she throws her head back and whimpers, her hips meeting your every thrust. You move faster, harder, and tug at one rosy nipple with your teeth before she comes witha  guttural groan that nearly pushes you over the edge a second time.

 

You flop down beside her once she's settled down. A couple of minutes of silence tick by before she gently lifts one of your wrists and kisses the red mark left there. "Does it hurt?" She asks. There is genuine concern in her voice and you shake your head and answer. "No yet." She looks a bit guilty but not quite and this makes you laugh.

 

"So, I guess 'congratualtions' are in order?" You say.

 

"Yes. Thank you." She retorts smugly and begins to get up, but you catch her before she's up, grabbing the back of her head to pull her in for a hard, demanding kiss that you hope convinces her to stay.

 

Her eyes are still closed when she pulls back and for a second, you feel almost as victorious as she does. She licks her lips and stares at you as if she knows what you're trying to do. "It's a school night," She teases and then is up and dressing as non-chalant as ever.

 

"Where did you get those handcuffs?" You wonder aloud, watching her with your head propped on your hand.

 

"A friend." She says, stepping into her shoes, one by one before grabbing her jacket off the floor.

 

A friend. How very vague and how very 'Patty' to have a friend who would just lend out a pair of handcuffs. You really wish she'd stay so you give it one last lame attempt, "So that's it? Fuck and leave? No 'thank you' or anything? You won't even make me breakfast? It's the polite thing to do."

 

She walks slowly towards you and you're hypnotized by the elegant sway of her hips. You almost ask her how she does that, but she's already leaning over you, her lips so close to yours when she says, "I'm not a very good cook." She kisses you softly, "But thank you for the victory fuck."

 

And then she's gone. And like every time, you wonder how much longer the two of you can keep this up. And like every time, by the time you crawl under the sheets and are dozing off to sleep with the sweetest calm only great sex can bring, you forget all about it and decide that you'll do it until you don't.

 

***