We all masturbate, it's nothing to be ashamed of. It's also something most prefer to keep private. But sometimes, people forget to knock while we're in the middle of things, and awkwardness ensues.
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REACTIONS:
➊ EMBARRASSMENT Yeah, someone just caught you in a very private act and you kind of wish the ground would swallow you up. Now.
➋ ANGER How dare someone barge in on you without knocking! You'll give them a piece of your mind right now.
➌ EXCITEMENT/EXHIBITIONISM happens to be a major turn-on for you, so you'll just continue. Maybe even ask them to give you a hand, you never know...
➍ APATHY Big deal, it's not like they've been living in a bubble where they never knew masturbation existed, and if they were they had to find out about it sometime.
➎ SQUICK Either it was a family member who just walked in on you or you just feel so utterly dirty at having been caught doing something so personal.
➏ DELAYED reaction You didn't even notice they were there until after you finished.
➐ DERAILED REACTION Oh no you've been--what is that on their head? Wait, the world's ending now? D-did you just see that unicorn? Worry about being caught later, figure out what the hell is going on first.
➑ FRUSTRATION COME ON, EVERY TIME!
➒ RELIEF Thank GOODNESS someone came by! Otherwise you'd have had to stop and go grab that toy/pillow/remote for the annoying stereo yourself. Also they could maybe swap discs because this movie isn't really doing it for you. What do you mean it's inappropriate? It's not like you're asking them to watch.
( whether or not she'd done this before - that wasn't a line of thought he wanted to continue, or a road she wanted to go down with him. it was part of her work, sometimes. occasionally, it snuck into relationships outside of work (other people might call them friendships). she'd never mistaken sex as anything more than sex, however. sometimes it was a means to an end, but it only meant something when it meant something and she got to decide.
she had yet to decide what this would mean. did mean.
at the moment, it meant that it was time to devote her time and energy to him, regardless of his insistence of talking about her. it was almost admirable, really, how he was doing more than just moaning and carrying on as if he'd never been touched by a woman before. )
If I tell you I will, will you be quiet? ( her words might have a bite but her smile betrays her real intent. enjoy, relax, it's a gift, Hammer. no ulterior motives, no games, she's being nice or trying to. and as if she was going to leave it up to him, her hand sped up markedly, setting a pace that was certain to drive all thought out of his head. )
[Justin wasn't going to push for answers to questions he himself didn't even want to think about. He hadn't spent much time thinking about whatever it was they were doing, what the proper label was, what it actually meant. He'd thought about her, specifically, of course. He'd wondered how she was settling into her new apartment and if she used the pool often, he wondered if she was there or out on some mission...he wondered about her a lot. What she was doing and how she was, but nothing that involved her and him in the same equation.
Of course, with a mind like his, Justin could think about forty things at once. She wasn't special, but she wasn't a throwaway thought, either.
The idea of not talking had merit. Justin talked enough with his work that he tried to be as quiet as he could whenever he got him. Sure, he talked to himself out loud when he was thinking about something and couldn't quite work through it, but unless someone else was around? He was generally pretty quiet. She wanted him to be quiet now—verbally, he imagined, not vocally. He nodded slightly, lips quirking up in a small grin as he decided that she already had a good grip on him, why not let her take control of everything else?
So he didn't say anything, but there was plenty of sounds to indicate that he wasn't just enjoying it, but enjoying it thoroughly. It was one of the strangest hand jobs he'd ever gotten, but by God was he going to enjoy it. His hand moved over her neck before sliding it in her hair, gripping her tightly as he broke his relative silence only to say:] Almost there.
( she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that she thought about him. at least a little bit. sometimes she'd be flying out to the other side of creation on a mission where she might die and she thought about sending him a text, asking him to take care of her plants. there were a few times when she'd been in a tight spot and she'd considered if he'd notice her absence if she didn't come back next time. sometimes she thought about stupid things - his hands, how warm he was, the stupid way he could cut up onions without blinking but flinched whenever she put her gun and knives on the table.
it was weird. natasha wasn't sure she liked it.
now that he was quiet, though, she had an opportunity to study him, up close and personal (what could be more personal?). for someone who could be so damn awkward, the noises he was making were enticing and she found her lips parting, tongue flicking out to wet them --for what? a kiss?
he hadn't kissed her. did he not want to kiss her? was she freaking out about it? no. she didn't freak out about things like this. right? right. no freaking out about justin hammer and his handjob and no kissing. let's just focus on the curve of his lips and the shape of his jaw and those things, nodding at acknowledge his words as her hand moves a tad faster, hopefully enough to tug him over the edge. )
It may not have been the smartest of ideas, but Justin had to confess he'd done some dumb things in his life. He'd installed a special feature in the alarm system of her apartment that gave him a notification whenever it was opened. There was no camera to say who opened it, but if she was gone for long amounts of time, he'd worry. It wasn't until he knew she'd gotten back to her place (although he paid for it, it was still hers) that any tension he'd been feeling about what she may have been away for too long. He wasn't sure if she had come across it, though he'd hidden it extremely well. If she had and said nothing about it, he would feel that it was still a win. He'd put something in there, she'd found it, she'd realized what it was, and she hadn't disabled it. If that was the case, he assumed she either felt obligated to keep it in or, perhaps...found it endearing.
She didn't want him to speak, so he wouldn't. But, God, when his eyes opened just slightly, when he saw her tongue flicking out, that was enough. More than enough, really, because he hadn't realized his orgasm had overtaken him until he felt it splatter against his shirt, giving it more weight than it had before. There was something oddly enticing about her lips, and it wasn't just because she was a beautiful woman and the things a beautiful woman could do with practiced lips were the stuff of wet dreams. It was Natasha herself. Everything about her was enticing, from her body to the way she spoke, to the fact of the matter that he knew that, in regards to her, he knew what she would let him and nothing more. Perhaps, one day down the road, she'd tell him more. But he had no intentions of pressing. If she never volunteered much more information than he already had, that was perfectly fine.
"Christ."
It's all he had time for as he looks down to see himself a mess, to see her hand on his cock, to be thankful that he'd worn his glasses as opposed to taking them off before attending to himself. That hand in her hair moved to the back of her neck, his hand going to her waist. He had every intention of pulling her into his lap and kissing her like he should have done before, all desire and passion and want. Fiercely, but not with the bumbling behind it of an overly eager teenager or young adult who was just so excited to have some form of sex when he lacked finesse in every way.
In all honesty, Natasha hadn't discovered that 'special' feature of her alarm yet; because she hadn't looked at the alarm too closely. It was a measure of trust. She'd made a few modifications of her own, on the surface level, and hooked it up to the computer system she'd been using lately (that she'd programmed), but she hadn't looked at it below the surface. The fact that she was even allowing him to have any part in her safety was a huge sign of trust, not that she was going to emphasize that fact to him or anyone.
Oddly enough, his orgasm took her by surprise and her mouth formed a slight 'oh', though not because she was off guard. It was just so quickly, not that she hadn't been aware it was coming. Finishing him off in a few more strokes, she didn't hesitate to wipe her hand on his pants, eyes on his face. Gorgeous, just the way the stress smoothed out of his face and the way he relaxed his shoulders, as if that was all he needed to be all right, to be fine. Except, now he was looking at her as if -- as if he needed her and not in the way you needed someone to have and to hold, but in the way that a man wanted to push a woman down on a bed a show her how much he needed her.
The hand that had been on his chest curled in his shirt, forseeing the next few seconds. In a frenzy, she tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside on the floor and settling herself in his lap with little regard for his personal space, lips crashing against his as she snakes her arms around his neck. He's warm, something that she hadn't been expecting (what, had she been thinking he was cold blooded?), and his lips were soft.. Gently, one of her hands wound in his hair, attempting to encourage him to pull her close.
It wasn't until he felt her lips on his that he realized he'd forgotten to get rid of his glasses. One hand removed them, tumbling over the nightstand and knocking against the wall as it settled on the floor. He doubted it would get scratched, but he was wealthy enough to afford a new pair. Hell, he had extra pairs in his house. He liked things neat and tidy, definitely, but when he had her in his lap and wanting to be there, well...a pair of glasses was hardly a hefty price to pay.
If she wanted his shirt off, she'd get just that. He didn't play coy or need any real encouragement other than her tugging at it for him to get the message. He didn't know where it landed and didn't need to know. It was off, and she had a hand in his hair and wasn't at all laughing at him or asking who he thought he was. It only made him want her even more, if such a thing was possible, and he found himself arching into her, pressing himself against her without any hint of shame. For every urge he had to get even more intimate, the urge to roll her over and push her down into the mattress wasn't all that great. It was more about what she wanted than anything else, and he was perfectly content to have her just where she was, as long as he could get his hands over her.
That he was definitely more exposed than she was had little bearing on the whole thing.
"You have a good day?" he asked lightly as he broke away for air, giving her a little lopsided grin as he did so. She didn't want him to speak, but it was only polite to ask, wasn't it? He hadn't exactly done it before, but he was teasing more than anything else.
Of course, if she wanted to talk, he'd be open to it. She just never came across as the type.
This felt personal, whether she liked it or not. Whether she wanted to admit it or not. She couldn't get it out of her head that she was kissing Justin Hammer; not just a man, not an acquaintance or someone on business, or Clint or anyone else -- but Hammer. The idiot who'd bought her an apartment because hers had been embarrassing, the one who made her waffles and mayonnaise, the same Justin Hammer who would answer her drunk texts with surprising panache and rescue her from the hot tub when she was naked and too drunk to make it to bed.
It felt like more than friendship and she couldn't quantify that at the moment. It was much easier to press against him like the world was tearing apart, her fingers finding purchase in his shoulders (albeit gently) as she twitched her hips into his lap and pulled herself the rest of the way into his arms.
"Christ, Hammer," she growled when he broke away, voice edging between amused and frustrated. "Hasn't anyone told you that your mouth will get you in trouble? I know it already has."
Besides, they're a bit past the whole "let's talk about the weather" stage.
Stroking down his arms, she presses her hands against the top of his, guiding them to the waistline of her shirt and depositing them there -- mostly to see what he'd do. He hadn't absolutely ravished her yet, so she had to give him pointers for self control.
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bakerstreet2013-06-25 08:28 pm
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she had yet to decide what this would mean. did mean.
at the moment, it meant that it was time to devote her time and energy to him, regardless of his insistence of talking about her. it was almost admirable, really, how he was doing more than just moaning and carrying on as if he'd never been touched by a woman before. )
If I tell you I will, will you be quiet? ( her words might have a bite but her smile betrays her real intent. enjoy, relax, it's a gift, Hammer. no ulterior motives, no games, she's being nice or trying to. and as if she was going to leave it up to him, her hand sped up markedly, setting a pace that was certain to drive all thought out of his head. )
no subject
Of course, with a mind like his, Justin could think about forty things at once. She wasn't special, but she wasn't a throwaway thought, either.
The idea of not talking had merit. Justin talked enough with his work that he tried to be as quiet as he could whenever he got him. Sure, he talked to himself out loud when he was thinking about something and couldn't quite work through it, but unless someone else was around? He was generally pretty quiet. She wanted him to be quiet now—verbally, he imagined, not vocally. He nodded slightly, lips quirking up in a small grin as he decided that she already had a good grip on him, why not let her take control of everything else?
So he didn't say anything, but there was plenty of sounds to indicate that he wasn't just enjoying it, but enjoying it thoroughly. It was one of the strangest hand jobs he'd ever gotten, but by God was he going to enjoy it. His hand moved over her neck before sliding it in her hair, gripping her tightly as he broke his relative silence only to say:] Almost there.
no subject
it was weird. natasha wasn't sure she liked it.
now that he was quiet, though, she had an opportunity to study him, up close and personal (what could be more personal?). for someone who could be so damn awkward, the noises he was making were enticing and she found her lips parting, tongue flicking out to wet them --for what? a kiss?
he hadn't kissed her. did he not want to kiss her? was she freaking out about it? no. she didn't freak out about things like this. right? right. no freaking out about justin hammer and his handjob and no kissing. let's just focus on the curve of his lips and the shape of his jaw and those things, nodding at acknowledge his words as her hand moves a tad faster, hopefully enough to tug him over the edge. )
no subject
She didn't want him to speak, so he wouldn't. But, God, when his eyes opened just slightly, when he saw her tongue flicking out, that was enough. More than enough, really, because he hadn't realized his orgasm had overtaken him until he felt it splatter against his shirt, giving it more weight than it had before. There was something oddly enticing about her lips, and it wasn't just because she was a beautiful woman and the things a beautiful woman could do with practiced lips were the stuff of wet dreams. It was Natasha herself. Everything about her was enticing, from her body to the way she spoke, to the fact of the matter that he knew that, in regards to her, he knew what she would let him and nothing more. Perhaps, one day down the road, she'd tell him more. But he had no intentions of pressing. If she never volunteered much more information than he already had, that was perfectly fine.
"Christ."
It's all he had time for as he looks down to see himself a mess, to see her hand on his cock, to be thankful that he'd worn his glasses as opposed to taking them off before attending to himself. That hand in her hair moved to the back of her neck, his hand going to her waist. He had every intention of pulling her into his lap and kissing her like he should have done before, all desire and passion and want. Fiercely, but not with the bumbling behind it of an overly eager teenager or young adult who was just so excited to have some form of sex when he lacked finesse in every way.
no subject
Oddly enough, his orgasm took her by surprise and her mouth formed a slight 'oh', though not because she was off guard. It was just so quickly, not that she hadn't been aware it was coming. Finishing him off in a few more strokes, she didn't hesitate to wipe her hand on his pants, eyes on his face. Gorgeous, just the way the stress smoothed out of his face and the way he relaxed his shoulders, as if that was all he needed to be all right, to be fine. Except, now he was looking at her as if -- as if he needed her and not in the way you needed someone to have and to hold, but in the way that a man wanted to push a woman down on a bed a show her how much he needed her.
The hand that had been on his chest curled in his shirt, forseeing the next few seconds. In a frenzy, she tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside on the floor and settling herself in his lap with little regard for his personal space, lips crashing against his as she snakes her arms around his neck. He's warm, something that she hadn't been expecting (what, had she been thinking he was cold blooded?), and his lips were soft.. Gently, one of her hands wound in his hair, attempting to encourage him to pull her close.
no subject
If she wanted his shirt off, she'd get just that. He didn't play coy or need any real encouragement other than her tugging at it for him to get the message. He didn't know where it landed and didn't need to know. It was off, and she had a hand in his hair and wasn't at all laughing at him or asking who he thought he was. It only made him want her even more, if such a thing was possible, and he found himself arching into her, pressing himself against her without any hint of shame. For every urge he had to get even more intimate, the urge to roll her over and push her down into the mattress wasn't all that great. It was more about what she wanted than anything else, and he was perfectly content to have her just where she was, as long as he could get his hands over her.
That he was definitely more exposed than she was had little bearing on the whole thing.
"You have a good day?" he asked lightly as he broke away for air, giving her a little lopsided grin as he did so. She didn't want him to speak, but it was only polite to ask, wasn't it? He hadn't exactly done it before, but he was teasing more than anything else.
Of course, if she wanted to talk, he'd be open to it. She just never came across as the type.
no subject
It felt like more than friendship and she couldn't quantify that at the moment. It was much easier to press against him like the world was tearing apart, her fingers finding purchase in his shoulders (albeit gently) as she twitched her hips into his lap and pulled herself the rest of the way into his arms.
"Christ, Hammer," she growled when he broke away, voice edging between amused and frustrated. "Hasn't anyone told you that your mouth will get you in trouble? I know it already has."
Besides, they're a bit past the whole "let's talk about the weather" stage.
Stroking down his arms, she presses her hands against the top of his, guiding them to the waistline of her shirt and depositing them there -- mostly to see what he'd do. He hadn't absolutely ravished her yet, so she had to give him pointers for self control.