bakerstreet | Hit send. Feel regret.

Worried you're going to have to spill water on your crotch to cover up a wet spot?

Maybe I'll just. Lock myself in the bathroom.
What're you doing right now?

Looking up stuff online. At home. Alone.

I want to come over and fuck you.

And yet you're not here fucking me. There seems to be a problem here.

I can be there in 20 minutes.

I'll believe it when I feel you bending me over the desk.

[There's no reply, so either something related to his hearing came up or he's tripping over himself getting out of the courthouse.

She'll know when he comes bursting in through the front door and corners her after dropping his cane across her entranceway and slipping a finger in his tie knot to loosen it. He's hot to the touch and the problem in his pants is veritably still there.]

[She was just about to take a sip of her coffee, jumping a bit in her chair when the door was slammed open. But when she looked up and saw who it was, saw what state he was in, she grinned, pushing the chair back and getting up even as she started to pull her shirt off over her head.]

Took you long enough.

[He gets between her and her table, backing her towards the space of wall between her windows as if they had something to hide. Clothes off first was probably the more logical way of doing this but he's play-biting her jaw, kissing the side of her neck, holding her hips flush against his groin.

Someone did not make the responsible adult decision of staying obediently at work and thankfully he's not paying for it.] You've been driving me crazy all day. [Like it's her fault. Like the click-clack-cluck of the stenograph hasn't been driving him crazy all day and he's made it through hours of arguing legally what a patent should entail by inventing creative ways of blocking out that noise.]

I haven't done shit all day.

[Murmured back as she reached for his shirt, tugging it open and sending buttons flying as she did. Her hands went between the parted fabric, sliding over his skin, trying to press her hips closer to his even though he was doing a damn good job of keeping her in place. She could feel his cock through his pants, digging into her thigh, and she bit at his ear.]

Not my fault you've been too busy to come by lately.

I always come back. [Matt's not the best at managing all the directions his life is being pulled in, but she can count on him to always come back to her. He's still failing at multitasking, seemingly only capable of either tugging at her jeans or kissing her but not doing both at the same time. She can feel his devious little smile against her cheek as his hands went to take her bra off before going back for another attempt at her pants.]

You know you could always visit. We don't have to be horny and the world doesn't have to be ending.

That seems like we'd just be tempting fate for one of the two to happen. Fighting or fucking seems to be what we're best at.

[Not that she was complaining, her hands moving down to his belt to undo it, leaving the ends to dangle as she unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Her hand slid in and she felt her fingers wrap around his length, giving it a squeeze.]

Well then I'll pray that we end up fucking. [He tilted his head back and bit back a moan, his fingertips scraping against the wall behind her. Eventually he willed his hands to move down to cup her ass and he trades places with her with a growl. Taking her to the table, he swipes the fuzzy outline of paperwork and stationery away onto the floor and pushes the laptop dangerously close to the cup of coffee to make some space to slam her back down on. His shades end up skidding across her laptop keyboard before he pulls her jeans off of one leg and then the other.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he kissed her hungrily while his other hand drew an invisible line down between her breasts, over her navel and down between her legs, fingertip flicking up between her folds.] Wow. What fun 'stuff' were you looking up online?

Edited 2018-05-10 03:02 (UTC)

[He had two modes when it came to sex with her, it seemed. Frantic needing to fuck like he was gasping for air and sex would resurrect him, and a lazy sort of slow tired fucking that was dangerously close to something more intimate. She preferred this version, because the other one also came dangerously close to making her feel things she pretended she couldn't.

So she helped him get her pants off, her body naked on her desk as he pressed her on it, touched her, and she tore the rest of his shirt off in strips. His pants were shoved at, but she paused when she felt his finger at her cunt, his fingers teasing at her and making her grab at him, made him pull him closer.]

Work stuff. Nothing fun. I can use the distraction.

[Everything was so ordered in his day to day life, mostly because it had to be in order to navigate the world mostly in the dark, it was nice to throw a bit of chaos in every once in a while and just give in to the urges that a Holy Father would chastise him about. A bit of Daredevil. A bit of Jessica Jones.

Or a lot of Jessica Jones. It doesn't help that she sets him free because she doesn't think any less of him when he's just a barely coherent bundle of highly charged emotions, because he's not scared about hurting her.

The coffee threatened to spill out of the mug when grabbed her wrists and slammed them hard against the table. His teeth nipped at and grazed against her skin as his hands chased her scarlet outline, kneading her breast and pulling the outside of her thigh down to meet his crotch. If she was on top she'd have him begging by now, but he still had some semblance of self-control. Enough self-control to keep his hard cock trapped between his thumb and her pussy and just rub his erection over her clit instead of just fucking her like an animal.]

[She could read between the lines with him. When he was this intent on being on top, on being in control, it meant he was probably too close to firing off quickly, to having it be over too soon for his satisfaction if she had her way. So he took her out of the equation and stole some control to try to make it last. Most times she let him. Some times she fought back and took him hard and fast, then pushed him towards a round two.

Today, she left her hand on the desk, let him tease her with the swollen head of his cock gliding over her clit, making her lift her back a little, feeling the tingling rush of pleasure that pushed at her and that aching need for him to bury himself in her.]

You really did get worked up today. Tsk, tsk.

Thinking about what I want to do to you gets me worked up. [Technically they were both worked up right now, but he wasn't even in the vicinity of her place yet when he was already bursting at the seams. Not having the added distraction of that constant background buzz and worrying about his work now that he was here didn't calm him down enough when she was here in the flesh getting wet for him.

Her table creaked and groaned as he eased himself inside her and set a fast, uneven pace from the get-go. Coffee splashed onto the table and soaked into her printed photos as he stifled his moans against her throat, leaving angry red marks on her arm and hip from his tight grip.]

Breathing gets you worked up.

[Hissed in his ear as he started a suddenly fast and ragged pace. She felt her ass sticking to the desk, her legs wound around him as she tried to just hold on, to let him ride out whatever need he seemed to be all but bursting with. There'd be a second round. And if he was feeling guilty enough about ruining her photos, a third that focused on her. She could let him have this.]

[That drew a hollow, ragged laugh from him.] Brat. [Matt couldn't blame her for thinking that though. He brushed his lower lip over the reddened mark he put on the side of her neck before nipping none-too-gently at her skin again. They both knew he wouldn't last more than five minutes right now but she'd have him for the rest of the day - night, tomorrow morning, maybe even tomorrow afternoon - to make a few more marks and fuck each other hoarse.]

Sorry. Can't hear you over all this fucking.

[She leaned back, resting her body on the desk, legs still wound around him as he continued to pound into her. The one thing she could say about sex with Matt was that it wasn't something she often forgot. There were always marks, always tossed things, always broken clothing to have to deal with later. The heat of the moment was their thing. One of them would get worked up enough to not be able to wait. It amused her that it seemed more often than not to be him.]

Hit send. Feel regret.

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