bakerstreet | Smut Picture Prompts Meme: Full of Ragrets Edition

All of the attention that Beth is paying to him is incredible, in it's own way. A little tentative, true, but he can't blame her for that. It's not like he's had too much experience either and they're still feeling their way forward with this. What do they like? What do they want to do? What feels good? One has to learn their partner and this is - well. He hopes it's just the first of many intimate moments he can share with her. Experience and knowledge of one another will help.

Just now though he's savoring the feeling of her fingers gripping him, the pads of her fingertips providing a constant, firm pressure against the base of his cock. He shivers, eyes lidding as he keeps himself propped on an elbow, the fingers of his other hand working slow circles against her scalp. Still no tugging or directing - he's letting her find her own way. She's giving to him and he's happy to let her have control until they've settled into this together.

Luke's eyelids flicker and he sucks in a little gasp as her tongue slides over his frenulum and then the ridge of the head. It's enough to make his hips hitch just slightly before he brings himself back under control and settles again, with another low breath out. Not quite a sigh, but maybe a way to settle himself. As she takes more and more of him into her mouth, he allows the warm, slick wetness of it to coax another reaction out of him as her fingers stroke against his skin and her tongue and lips tease the head and shaft of his arousal. He mumbles encouragement to her, especially when she finds a particularly sensitive spot - he's trying to be responsive, as embarrassing as he sometimes finds being vocal.

He makes it clear when he likes something, which is both really helpful and really hot. The little sounds he makes, the half-bitten-off words, and especially his hand in her hair, making her scalp tingle where his fingers drag against it--all of it is encouraging and arousing.

The encouraging parts are the most important, and it's easy enough to take what he gives her and turn it into more for him. She lavishes attention on the head between bouts of taking him as deep into her mouth as she can manage without gagging. It takes a little while, but she settles into a rhythm, her hand and head moving in tandem. A little faster, a little steadier.

(And her teeth don't get in the way, thank God.)

Her other hand's a bit more restless, moving from his hip down to cup his sack in her palm--but she never really knows what to do with them except sort of be nearby. Which is basically what his balls are doing for his penis anyway, so maybe that's enough.

Eventually, though, listening to him react is as distracting as it is helpful. Beth hums in a sort of agreement when he seems especially pleased, the best she can come up with when her lips are wrapped around the head, and reaches down between her own legs. Her clit's aching for some kind of attention, and she's not too bad at doing two different things with her hands at once. (Finally, a use for piano lessons after the world ends.) Her eyes lift to his face, gauging how he's doing.

Luke can't really complain about any of this. He hasn't received all that many blowjobs in his young life, so he has nothing to particularly compare it to besides his own touch and right now, he'd definitely take this over his own hand any day of the week. Mostly because it's Beth doing it, but also because it keeps him on edge, the touch of tongue and the feel of her fingers against skin make him hitch his hips, draw out a another low moan. It's a slow, steady sort of pleasure, one that builds on itself, moment after moment.

As she makes that low humming noise, he's being worked higher and tighter, the tension in his belly winding toward the breaking point. His toes curl into the sofa and he mumbles something under his breath, head back, eyes screwed shut as he sucks in another short, sharp breath. Then again, a bit louder and probably more understandable.

"Fuck, Beth - I'm close, I'm r-really close-"

Talking during sex has always felt sort of awkward, but he's managing it right now. Mostly because he doesn't want to surprise her.

Beth makes a little noise, her lips curling up a little around him. His body's been growing tauter, the sounds coming from him turning less intelligible--what he says only confirms what she'd sort of guessed. He feels close. It's the kind of tension that seems like it'd break her into pieces if she was in his place. (Hell, it sort of is, hearing him. She's still got two fingers pressed up against her clit, though her attention's too solidly on him to do anything to scratch her own itch.)

She gives him a quick little nod from where she's been swirling her tongue around the head of his dick--however little that's worth when his eyes are closed, she realizes belatedly. Tipping her head down again, so she can draw as much of his shaft into her mouth as she can, she instinctively goes for the strong, deep rhythm of sucks that would get Zach off.

It occurs to her, after a moment, that it's probably kind of creepy to do something because it worked on your dead ex, but Luke doesn't have to know that. All he needs is to be taken over the top of everything building inside him, and she thinks she can do it. If he doesn't like it, she'll adjust, and soon, she'll know exactly what gets him there. If she has any say in the matter, this empty house is going to get a lot of use.

Luke is blissfully unaware of any sort of "creepy" thoughts regarding her technique and how it relates to Beth's ex. Instead, he's focused on the winding, heated tension that's being brought to the breaking point by the feel of her mouth and tongue and the rhythmic suction that she sets against his shaft. His toes curl and he feels molded, formed like clay, body loose and malleable, and then suddenly tight and tense as he pushes his hips up and for once his fingers tighten in her hair, scraping her scalp. He stammers out something unintelligible; more of a moan than words and he tumbles over the edge. His cock twitches and pulses in her mouth as he comes and his breath stutter-steps as each twitch brings another, shorter, less intense wave of pleasure.

He rides out the orgasmic high, curled forward into himself, toward Beth, shoulders tense and tight, eyes screwed shut and then it's passed over and he slowly starts to unwind, the tension falling away as she slumps back against the couch, trying to catch his breath.

"Jesus, Beth..." He mumbles, eyes flickering open to give her that lopsided smile of his, "That was intense."

It works. That means any question of creepiness can wait until she has the privacy to ponder every thought that intruded this afternoon and decide how much of it is genuinely weird of her and how much is inevitable, given how she lives now. For the moment, Luke's physical presence pushes everything else out of her mind. It's the one time since she started going down on him that she's been able to feel some of the strength coiled up in him--but even then, there isn't the slightest bit of cruelty in him, just excitement and need overpowering him for a moment.

It's the kind of strength she can trust in, not fear.

While he tries to remember how to breathe, she lets him slide out of her mouth and swallows once or twice. Watching him lie there, all she can think is I did that. That was good. It feels so normal, almost like they could get up and leave the house, and there wouldn't be walls keeping out the walkers. Relief wells up in her, so much so that she has to press a kiss to his hip or be overwhelmed by the feeling.

She laughs a little when he speaks, crawling back up the couch so she can stretch out beside him and peck the corner of his mouth. "It was nice."

"It felt more than just nice," Luke replies with a breathy little laugh. He drapes an arm over her and pulls her close (well, it's a couch, they're already pretty close) and presses a kiss into her hair on her temple.

"God, I don't think I can really describe it except to say it was good."

After a few more moments of catching his breath he eyes her lazily. That felt - well. Beyond just the physical high, being able to do something like this feels good. Outside there might not be time, there might not be space. Here? Here feels safe. It feels like a place where he can catch his breath and waste time with an attractive girl on a lazy afternoon.

Luke kisses her again and flashes her a smile that's just this side of shy, "Uh, do you want me to take care of you now? Because I'd be happy to do that..."

Good, especially for now, seems like it's good enough. She's no sure she could come up with anything better if their places were reversed. Beth snuggles in close, her arms sliding around him, and lets him enjoy the peace and quiet of the room. For the span of a few breaths, it's like there's nothing else in the world.

She perks up when he speaks again, though, gaze shifting back up from the patches of sunlight hitting his chest.

"Yeah," she says immediately, flushing pink when she realizes just how eager she sounds. The last thing she wants to do is demand it from him--but for all she could lie around without finishing herself off for the rest of the day, she really doesn't want to. They've gotten this far without too much difficulty, and the thought of Luke's head between her thighs sends a pulse of excitement through her clit. "I mean. If you want to."

She's smiling as she leans in for another quick kiss of encouragement.

"Of course I want to," Luke replies, maybe a little too quickly, and his face flushes. He still feels a bit drained and loose from his orgasm a few minutes ago. Sticky with sweat. That doesn't mean he doesn't want to make her feel good. If anything, he's extremely eager. He actually feels a little embarrassed by it. He rolls on to his side and then sits up with a little grin, rubbing a hand through his hair.

"Uh - I guess - get comfortable?"

He starts scooting down the couch. Hopefully he doesn't screw this up.

Beth grins at the way he answers. On him, eagerness is cute--it's genuine, especially when he smiles like the only thing he's unsure about is whether he needs to chill out. He doesn't have to, obviously, and she can't resist reaching up to stroke his cheek as he sits up. The way he's looking at her, it's hard not to want to touch him.

She slides over a little, taking advantage of the freed-up space on the couch to stretch out on her back. Her turn, now, to lie there like something out of a painting--and it's mostly thrilling, knowing why he's there, moving down the couch. Her stomach feels a little tight, but she does her best to think past it; she's pretty sure it's just anticipation, knowing all his attention's moving back to her.

"I'm comfortable," she tells him, because she pretty much is--and it feels like it needs to be said, if only so he doesn't have to ask.
Everything Luke's done this afternoon has been a reason for her to trust him, and she wants him to know it.

Beth does look like something out of a painting, as far as Luke's concerned. Not that he's a consumer of high art, but he's seen enough pictures of pictures to know what they're supposed to look like and she looks like them. Just as beautiful and just as radiant in the sunlight that streams in through the windows and dances over her skin and hair. He settles himself above her for a moment, trailing his hands down her sides, over her breasts, and eventually ending at her hips. When she announces she's ready (comfortable), he leans down to plant a kiss just below her breasts and then another on her belly and her naval and against her hips. From there, it's a short hop to her things, tongue and teeth teasing against smooth skin.

This close, he can inhale the scent of her arousal and he drinks that down for a moment as he shifts from one thigh to the other, scraping teeth lightly over her skin. Another breath as he decides what to do and he plants one final kiss on the bare skin of her thigh before he noses in against the lips of her sex with a low, shaky breath. He's only done this a few times before, so he hopes he doesn't screw it up. As it is, though, the bridge of his nose presses up against the little bundle of her clit as his tongue slowly slides over her lips, dragging the flat of it up and then down, experimenting to see what's going to draw the biggest reaction.

She saw a Caravaggio a couple months ago, close enough to touch. She still remembers what the jerk who owned it said, too: Art isn't about survival. It's about transcendence. Being more than animals. If that's true--and she thinks it is, just not the way Dr. Edwards believed it--then after a while, just living is art in itself. The moments where everything matters, and not because you're fighting for your life, those are as good as anything in a museum.

And that means that, however inexperienced Luke is at going down on girls, his touch is exactly what she wants. God knows she hasn't done this often enough to be all that blase about it, and he did plenty earlier to build up her interest. It only takes a few kisses, each of them moving a little further down, to bring her back to that aching desire. By the time he's at her thighs, his hair brushing soft against her, she's starting to shift to give him better access to her. A shiver rises on her skin as his teeth graze her skin.

She lets a hand settle at the back of his head, the other at his shoulder, distantly aware of just how gentle he was with her before. He deserves the same, her fingers smoothing through his hair as he turns his attention away from her inner thighs.

"Oh--" Beth's breath hitches when his tongue moves over her in a slow, smooth line, but it's the pressure on her clit that has her hips shifting slightly, trying to strengthen the sensation.

Smut Picture Prompts Meme: Full of Ragrets Edition

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