Ficly

Chivalry, While Appreciated, is Not Always Necessary

The bed bounced, springs squeaking under the rhythmic motion that was constantly changing, speeding up, then slowing down before speeding up again. Breathy gasps punctuated with moans that verged on whines followed the rhythm of the bed.

“Oh! Oh yes!”

Soft, pale legs curled into the air, one hooking under the other over a tanned back that rose and fell like a piston. Sweat dropped, mingling on the skin of writhing bodies. A hand matching the bobbing feet, snaked out, clutching a handful of sheets.

Kisses rained down, mouth to greedy mouth, before pulling away to nibble along her ear and down her slender neck.

“You…” One word embodied the fulfillment of desire.

Sheets snapped off the corner of the mattress and the constant friction caused them to slide, lovers and all, off the edge of the bed and to the floor. Flailing limbs hit the nightstand, sending the lamp bouncing along the hardwood floor.

“Do you want to get that?” Mark asked, straining.

“Definitely not.” She murmured, pulling him toward her.

View this story's 6 comments.