a/n: how lame is it that i came up with this drabble when I was reading a chapter of 'The Sixth.'
warning: it's a bit sultry and dirty.
There was a particular thing he liked about sex with Jen—there were several particular things, but this was a particular, particular thing—he liked the way she nudged his head when she wanted him to go down on her.
It was never an act he'd been shy about, or reluctant of, when it came to women, but what he was used to was the reciprocation factor; if she went down, he would oblige; other than that, in his experience, most women didn't demand it—they anticipated, and then were pleased if he initiated—but that wasn't Jen; she expected it, and when she wanted it, she wanted it, and it wasn't about reciprocation with her—but about satisfaction she craved that he was willing to give.
She never spoke a word, and she wasn't callous or rough; she'd start by threading her fingers into his short, cropped hair while he was on top of her, kissing her, running his hands over her, unbuttoning and unzipping—and her fingers would tug gently at his hair, and then she'd move her hand to his jaw and stroke the hard muscles there as she kissed him back.
She'd bite his lower lip, sucking on him where she'd bitten to soothe the skin, and she'd run her tongue along his bottom lip inside his mouth, pressing it along his teeth. She's shift her hips, take a breath, and nudge his nose with hers—and then shed slip her hand from his jaw back into his hear, and tuck his head down to her breasts, and nudge him again—never aggressive, just firm, coaxing, so his lips brushed her sternum, and she'd put her other hand on his shoulder and grip him tightly, pushing him down her body.
He loved that—it was something he'd heard countless women mention that men did, always forcing their heads down instead of asking, or being gentle—and he made it a point not to do that—but he relished it when she did; he liked that part of Jenny: the commanding part of her, the independent part of her, that part that knew exactly what she wanted—and instead of being affronted that she'd nudge him away from her lips, he was flattered that she wanted his mouth on her—so badly.
That little nudge—it was a particular action so unique to Jen, that he missed it when he wasn't with her, and he was less likely to remember that women liked oral sex—because he was so caught up in the way Jen demanded it, and ran her fingers over his jaw, and pulled his hair that—without her nudge, he was almost selfish, and he tended to withhold his talents—and in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't her particular nudge that made him want to give it to her and not to other women—it was her, Jen, the woman, who he particularly liked to go down on.
yes please, gibbs.
-Alexandra
story #174