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intheheartTitle: Memory
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Jake clung to this memory, during the year that he didn't have Olivia.
Notes: This turned out... much sadder than I meant. Oops? For the Sex Is Not the Enemy Ficathon, this NSFW prompt.
Jake had Memorial Day off, unlike practically every other holiday on the list, and that year he had Olivia too, her curves and flirting hips and that light, teasing smile. So he actually took his day and her and drove up to the Catskills, to a cabin he'd rented. There were things to do—a lake to swim or kayak in, trails to bike or ride, historical sites to visit.
They didn't do any of them.
He'd planned to. He'd even gotten ready for a hike, boots and backpack and all. Then Olivia had pulled the clip out of her curly hair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they'd fallen back onto the bed, and so much for any outdoor activities that day.
He'd watched her afterwards walk naked to the window and open the blinds, because they faced on the lake and no one was going to see her, and he couldn't bring himself to object because the sun turned her skin warm, picked out gold highlights in her hair, gave her a specious halo when she turned back to him and bent to kiss him.
He sat up to kiss her better, to wind his hands in her hair and tuck her tighter against him. He loved the feel of her skin, loved her soft and plump against his bony angles, and she giggled, nipped at his chin, and she was so beautiful when she smiled, so beautiful he caught his breath and touched her. He couldn't stop touching her, breasts, back, ass, clit, anywhere that made her gasp and squirm against him, and finally he settled on an arm around her back, pressing her tight to him while he touched her, rubbed her and kissed her panting mouth. But Olivia could never bear to be one-sided and her hand closed on his cock, her fingers curling around the shaft, thumb rubbing at the head, and he sucked in a breath and she laughed and nipped at his chin again, and they brought each other off like that, kneeling on the bed, pressed together, kissing and whimpering and crying out until she shuddered around his hand and he thrust forward into hers and slumped, heavy, against her shoulder.
She'd cupped the back of his neck, after, and kissed him, and told him that she loved him. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time with her like that, gilded in the sun and pressed against him, warm and bright and laughing.
He clung to that memory, now that she was gone.
Rating: NC-17.
Summary: Jake clung to this memory, during the year that he didn't have Olivia.
Notes: This turned out... much sadder than I meant. Oops? For the Sex Is Not the Enemy Ficathon, this NSFW prompt.
Jake had Memorial Day off, unlike practically every other holiday on the list, and that year he had Olivia too, her curves and flirting hips and that light, teasing smile. So he actually took his day and her and drove up to the Catskills, to a cabin he'd rented. There were things to do—a lake to swim or kayak in, trails to bike or ride, historical sites to visit.
They didn't do any of them.
He'd planned to. He'd even gotten ready for a hike, boots and backpack and all. Then Olivia had pulled the clip out of her curly hair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they'd fallen back onto the bed, and so much for any outdoor activities that day.
He'd watched her afterwards walk naked to the window and open the blinds, because they faced on the lake and no one was going to see her, and he couldn't bring himself to object because the sun turned her skin warm, picked out gold highlights in her hair, gave her a specious halo when she turned back to him and bent to kiss him.
He sat up to kiss her better, to wind his hands in her hair and tuck her tighter against him. He loved the feel of her skin, loved her soft and plump against his bony angles, and she giggled, nipped at his chin, and she was so beautiful when she smiled, so beautiful he caught his breath and touched her. He couldn't stop touching her, breasts, back, ass, clit, anywhere that made her gasp and squirm against him, and finally he settled on an arm around her back, pressing her tight to him while he touched her, rubbed her and kissed her panting mouth. But Olivia could never bear to be one-sided and her hand closed on his cock, her fingers curling around the shaft, thumb rubbing at the head, and he sucked in a breath and she laughed and nipped at his chin again, and they brought each other off like that, kneeling on the bed, pressed together, kissing and whimpering and crying out until she shuddered around his hand and he thrust forward into hers and slumped, heavy, against her shoulder.
She'd cupped the back of his neck, after, and kissed him, and told him that she loved him. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time with her like that, gilded in the sun and pressed against him, warm and bright and laughing.
He clung to that memory, now that she was gone.
