I commented on Tumblr earlier tonight that on this night in 2006 I was singing in church in a velvet dress and now ten years later I'm on my laptop at work writing Paige Dineen getting fingered on her desk by Walter O'Brien. Anyway, Merry Christmas, cyclone, this is pretty short, but I know a lot of us have been dying for new Waige smut since Monday (I'm hoping something will pop up for me to read, too!) so here's my attempt.


It surprised her how long into their relationship it took for something to happen on her desk.

Their first kiss was right here, just next to it, that kiss that shot through her entire body and left her breathless and wobbly and more than a little wound. It had taken only a vague mention of that kiss to lead to the conversation that both of them knew was going somewhere like this, and the memory of it burned at the forefront of her memory as she pushed herself up onto the desk, feeling his hands on her hips as he tried to help her get settled, his mouth never leaving hers. She slid her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, and he grunted into her mouth, one of his hands in the middle of her back as the other one slid up and down her thigh, making her wiggle impatiently.

She removed her hands from Walter's hair to work the hooks on her skirt, but Walter's hand was already snaking under it, thumb stroking her through her underwear as he mumbled something against her lips that Paige couldn't make out but figured had to be a comment about how wet she was because damn, she didn't even realize the extent of it until his fingers glided easily over the fabric. She placed her hands on the edge of the desk, ready to lift her hips and let him ease the offending clothing down her legs. But before she could do that, dang he was constantly one step ahead of her tonight, Walter slipped his hand underneath her underwear and pushed two fingers inside her, and Paige's fingers curled around the desk as she spread her knees further apart, letting him step closer. He curled his fingers, stroking her from the inside, hitting exactly the right spot. Paige gasped, beginning to pant, and she gripped the edge of the desk tightly and squeezed her eyes shut, sucking in a breath and letting out a short whimper as she exhaled. The hand that had been on her back slipped up to cradle her face as he kissed her again.

This didn't happen often. Paige's orgasms were, more often than not, of a much lesser intensity than depicted in the movies, but, perhaps as a way of making up for it, they would last for several minutes, something that had initially startled but now absolutely delighted her boyfriend. He hadn't had a clue that some women had those experiences, and getting to watch her like that for such a length of time was something he quite enjoyed.

Not tonight. Tonight was one of those times where it was different, where everything was stronger and more intense and she knew Walter could tell by the way her knuckles were white and how hard she was breathing because he twisted his wrist slightly, his thumb finding her clit, and her thigh muscles started to tremble. She was going to come hard, and they both knew it. And Walter was always so damn smug about this, too.

Her legs were trembling harder, the flush beginning to migrate throughout her body making them feel hot, and Paige threw her head back, clenching her teeth so her next breath sounded like a hiss. It was always right about here that the intensity of it all almost seemed like too much – and it had been, the first couple times that this had happened. She used to make Walter stop, unfamiliar with being built up like this and almost afraid to let herself go. Even now, she felt his free hand running up and down her back soothingly, easing her through those few seconds of buildup where the clarity of what he could do to her was almost too overwhelming.

Not anymore. Paige bit her lip, a whine coming from deep in her throat. Then she leaned forward, pushing her hips down hard on the desk as they jerked against Walter's hand. Her mouth opened as her eyes squeezed shut and she let out a sharp sound, burying her head against his chest as he brought her right to the edge, his thumb circling her clit to bring her over. Her face contorted and a sharp sound made it through her lips as a hand came up to curl around his shirt. His free arm wrapped around her, holding her against him as she shuddered, the fingers inside her going still because when she finished this hard she was immediately too sensitive for any other stimulation. "Easy, Love," he whispered affectionately, his lips in her hair.

"Oh my god," she gasped against his chest, her eyes still closed. "How do you do that?" It was a rhetorical question, and he seemed to understand that because he chuckled and hugged her a little tighter.

"I love you," he mumbled, and she wiggled slightly, shifting her weight against him so she could slide her arms around him. His fingers eased out of her and the hand rested gently on her thigh, still under her skirt. His thumb ran gently over her skin, back and forth.

Paige's eyelids were getting heavy and she slumped further against him, mumbling something she knew was incoherent, but that she also knew Walter would understand. She always felt like she was going to pass out and sleep for days after he got her off like this. Walter scooped her up – only with a slight clumsiness, and carried her over to the couch, easing her down. He took the blanket off the back, shook it out, and laid it over her before hunkering down at her shoulder.

"I love you," she mumbled, her eyes open a fraction.

He smiled, reaching over and rubbing her arm gently, shoulder to elbow. "I love you too, Paige."