(no subject)

[mememaker]

THE MORNING AFTER MEME
WITH AN ANON TWIST

Hey, last night was great. You drank, you gambled, you ran around naked, somebody talked you out of lighting a bonfire in the yard, you hooked up with somebody or three—too bad you can't remember it, though. Waking up someplace unfamiliar isn't so bad but...

Who is this person next to you?

RULES:
1. Post with your character.
2. Anon chooses your partner in crime based on your preferences and assigns you a journal to tag or to be tagged by.
3. Play out a thread. Try and piece the night together—or not. Up to you!
4. Anything goes, so long as the players involved are cool with it.
5. ???
6. PROFIT.

Comments

[dejah_thoris]

And with that searching touch, all rational thought becomes impossible. Her hands grip him tighter, and she smothers her breathless cries against the side of his throat.

Her hips roll and curl, trying to get more, trying to tempt him further, and her kisses become positively feral.

[iamthedarkness]

Intellectually, Khan's curiosity about her reactions to intimate touch was only heightened by the fascinating amount of squirming and clutching it seemed to be driving her to.

On the other hand, the sounds she was making and her wild carnality really was too tempting to resist. Relying on Dejah's grip staying strong, Khan began to lower her hips ever-so-slowly until his hand could bridge the narrowing gap between them and pull himself into alignment. Then, when their bodies were adequately poised in the earliest state of penetration, he let go with his hand to focus on making the penetration process appropriately slow and smooth.

The resulting intensity of each newly triggered sensory neuron pouring its individual contribution into a greater lake of physical pleasure was almost blinding. He wondered again what sort of strange poisons she had dosed him with to cause such an exaggerated effect.

[dejah_thoris]

She thought for sure she'd only imagined this, in a drunken haze.  But no, there is a gentleness to his touch, a delicious care and tenderness that she never would have thought possible from one so volatile as he. That combined with the lush, almost overwhelming pleasure of his cock filling her, stretching her, hitting every sweet spot as he went, drove her to distraction.

She keened quietly, arching against him, her hands trembling in his hair. The deeper he pressed, the more intense the sensations grew, and still, he moved so slowly, she thought she might lose her mind. It was glorious, and she whispered his name in supplication. 

"Khan..."

[iamthedarkness]

The only sound he was able to respond with was a ragged breath. Khan hadn't really understood that she had spoken out loud, the language of her body was crowding other things out, the sense of her intent and the hollow longing and hot thrill of satisfaction, her presence in the moment and her determination to grab every rose, every rare and spectacular cactus flower, seizing them with both hands on sight no matter how freely her blood would run from ruined palms, no matter that the pain from the wounds would far outlive the precious delicate prize itself...

He used his newly-free arm to clutch her body to his, grimacing with the effort of trying to learn which of his mental and physical systems could still function under these overwhelming conditions.

[dejah_thoris]

She shivered, her breath feathering against his cheek, her eyelids drooping heavy with desire. He held her so close, and her hands roamed over his neck and shoulders. There was nothing between them, not even the warm water flowing down over their bodies, and it was perfect.

She pulled back enough to rest her forehead against his, stealing another soft kiss. It took all she could muster to keep still, and he could feel the slow undulation coiling down her spine. He was so warm inside her, and she focused on breathing in time with him. Her thighs trembled, but she held still, waiting for him to catch up.