familylovehim | Aftersex pancakes? :D?

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Aftersex pancakes? :D?

Michael woke up.. feeling very warm. Which was strange because he was still in New York, wasn't he? Looking around for the offending object that had woken him, he snatched his phone off the table and flipped it open to shut it up. But it wasn't a call. I was like, 8 trillion text messages from his brother GOB. Rolling his eyes, he put the phone on silent, double-checking to make sure George Michael hadn't called.

And that's when everything from the previous night came back to him, all at once. He couldn't help the smile that came over his face as he laid in her bed and stared at the ceiling. He had a conference today but not for a few hours yet. And they weren't even important meetings -- he had come out here in the Michael-version of a vacation, after all.

Upon further inspection, he realized he was alone in bed, and he could hear the shower running. Begrudgingly, he decided to get up and find something useful to do.

He pulled on his slacks and padded off to the kitchen in search of some breakfast. Some investigation yielded a box of pancake mix and some eggs. Shrugging, he set to work.

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Michael was so incredibly blown away by how this tiny woman could overpower him so easily, though if he thought about it he had never been one for physical competition.. and it wasn't as if he was exactly fighting her, after all.

"You say that now.." he snarked, losing the rest of his momentum as his stomach muscles jumped. He could feel himself hardening at the simple action.

Biting his lip, he took her arm in a punishing grip. Now that he was sober it was so hard to fathom marking such flawless flesh... but Michael also knew he'd do anything Just Alice wanted.

The more he hardened, the more she kissed, her fingers sliding up his length to play with his head. Rubbing at the silky tip, smearing the pre-come around over the ridged flesh. The heat making her groan against his belly, as her tongue ventured out to taste him.

She stopped when he grabbed her arm, her head lifted and she looked at him with wide, brown eyes. Her heart was racing as she felt his powerful grip, wondering what he was going to do with her. The thought of him throwing her down on the bed and having his way with her, was thrilling, and she wondered idly if he had it in him.

And there they were, at a stalemate. What could he do?

With wide eyes, he yanked her up by the arm for a kiss. A biting, punishing, breathless kiss. His lips were already bleeding again, he was sure.

"I need some direction here," he said honestly, fingers resting over the impressions from the night before as her near-weightlessness settled on top of him.

She practically crashed into his chest and lips, she could feel her teeth cut into the already sensitive flesh. Oh, heaven. Pulling back from the kiss, she righted herself, straddling his hips as she looked down at him.

"No hitting, no breaking the skin, and nothing on my face or neck. If it hurts, or you start doing something wrong, I'll let you know, I'll tell you to stop." It was interesting coming up with rules for the bed room, she should have been use to them by now.

"Take what you want, Michael. Tell me what you want me to do. You want me to suck your cock, tell me. You want to fuck me, just do it." Her voice was soft, breathless as she bowed her head for another hard kiss.

This was the first time... he had ever done anything like this. Why would he hit her? Panic started to settle into his stomach at her words, but he found himself nodding. He could do this. He could!

...Maybe.

Right now though, he could kiss her. The way she kissed... god, it reminded him of a parana. And yet, he wasn't dissuaded by it. He started to understand how she could walk in, knowing she would be battered, but the pain did something extra... honed the senses to the other person.

It was.. well, it was really pretty neat.

Laying down on his chest she kissed him. Those hard, biting kisses, more tongue and teeth, then anything. Kisses that made her heart race, that made the hairs on her arms stand on end. Kisses that she couldn't get enough of. Half of her knew the reason why she wanted this, and the other half protested that a nice, gentle coupling would be much more rewarding.

Guess what half she was listening to at the moment.

Pushing up his shirt, or her shirt that he was wearing, she started to rub up against him once more. Eager, willing, wanting, Throwing herself at him, she would do whatever he wanted her to do, and gladly.

He needed to let go; let this happen and just not worry about it.

Unfortunately, his personality didn't really allow for that. Taking a deep breath, he tried to say something. Anything that might be... satisfactorily dirty.

"I want you to..." He had started strong. Fuck. "To.."

Hopelessly, he tugged on her chin again, putting her at eyeline.

"I just want you. Is that enough?"

She waited for him, and waited, and when he finally spoke she let out the breath she had been holding.

Smiling gently she nodded and lent down to kiss him, a sweet, happy kiss. There was nothing wrong with what he wanted. Deep down that's what she wanted anyway, to make him happy.

"Yes, Michael, that's enough." Sitting back, she giggled a bit, and then jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "But ya gotta lose the shirt, stranger."

Michael nodded, unsure of what was happening, but along for the ride either way. He stripped off the shirt and watched it fall to the ground near where he had neatly folded and arranged his things.

"I'm sorry I can't..." Bruise you? Order you around? "Hurt you."

He frowned, knowing that hadn't come out right. But it was the truth.

When the shirt was on the floor, she started to kiss down his chest, her fingers and lips exploring all those places she had missed late last night. "It's okay, sugar, don't worry about it," she reassured him against his flesh as she worked her way toward his pants.

There was no need to get upset over him not wanting to hurt her. In retrospect, it all seemed completely psychotic to begin with.

Michael threw an arm over his eyes so as not to go into sensory overload. Her lips were so hot; so insistent against his flesh...

His body was responding in ways he couldn't control, and he was pretty sure he was whimpering -- or doing something akin to it anyhow.

Kneeling between his legs, she gently pushed the fabric of his slacks and shorts out of the way, freeing his cock for her. Enjoying the little noises more then she should, she grinned and stroked him a few more times before bowing her head.

The first touch of her tongue was hesitant, exploring, and tasting before she wrapped her lips around the head of his prick. Grinning around him, she started to bob her head up and down, inching him into her mouth before pulling back. All while dragging her lips and tongue after her.

He inhaled sharply, one hand winding in her hair gently, unmoving.

He caught himself wondering how many guys she had gone down on, the famous scene from Clerks running through his head, and then her tongue descended on him and suddenly it didn't matter. He just barely kept himself from bucking into her mouth, the hand in her hair tightening imperceptibly as he bit his own wrist.

She liked his hand on the back of her head, it let her know she was doing something right.

He was so quiet, and she had to look up at him for a moment to make sure he wasn't completely repulsed by the act. There wasn't a guy she had dated that didn't enjoy a blow job. Applying a bit more pressure, she took more of him into her mouth. Her free hand cupping his sac and base of his cock to hold him still as she let her head move up and down easily.

"Oh god that's good.." he muttered, mostly to himself.

He knew he wasn't very loud during sex, and it was somewhere they differed, but he had never liked... making a scene.

She gave a silent chuckle, as she pulled her lips up to his head, to focus on the sensitive skin. Tongue swirling around him as she brushed hair away from her face.

Just as long as he was enjoying it, that's all that really mattered. Even if he was quiet.

Michael held her hair back, using both hands now. With a sigh, his hips shifted, the head bumping against the roof of her mouth. Stifling a groan, he may have tugged on her hair a little too hard.

Oh that was very nice, she opened her mouth a little wider, her head moving with this thrusts. At the tugging of her hair, however, her back arched and she groaned, the noise vibrating his sensitive skin.

She began to bob her head a bit faster, in more earnest then before. More pressure, and just the barest hint of teeth were used against him.

He cried out, shifting away from her teeth even while he continued to inch into her mouth.

Looking down at her, he realized his mistake, and how much he loved the sight of her lips wrapped around his cock.

"Alice, I'm going to --"

Oh she had a very good idea of what he was going to do, she could feel his belly tightening, and hear the need in his voice.

She didn't pull away, instead she sucked harder, her fingers grasping at his bas, stroking what she didn't have in her mouth. Silently letting him know it was okay for him to come.

And he did, come into her mouth, hips straining upwards to meet her lips. He fell back onto the bed, happily slumping against the headboard.

"Come here," he commanded when he could breath again, pressing their lips tightly together. He could taste himself in her mouth, but he couldn't say he minded.

She barely had time to swallow him all down when she found her lips pressed against his. Groaning, she wrapped an arm around his neck and opened her mouth to him.

Her body half draped over his, she pressed close, still breathing hard and trembling from the orgasm she had given him.

Michael pulled them as tightly together as their bodies would allow. It seemed to him as if they were breathing through each other's mouths.

"What do you want?" he panted against her neck when he finally had to pull away to actually breathe.

By the time he pulled away, her head was swimming, her heart beating wildly in her chest. She didn't know what she wanted, apparently the ability to make decisions had gotten lost somewhere between them.

"I don't know," she finally admitted, her arms tight around him, keeping her grounded. "W-what are you comfortable with?"

Rather than try to answer her, he sighed, kissing her forehead lightly as his hands traveled down her stomach, stroking smooth skin. Cautiously, one hand took firm hold of a breast, thumb flicking a nipple as the other hand moved lower still.

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Aftersex pancakes? :D?

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