The parentheticals are out of control in this one, sorry. Also, I was supposed to be writing one of the other times I talked about in Perchance to Anguish, namely one of the times they got creative with scarves and ties, but this came out instead.
Set during Season 2. Dirty, very dirty, thus it's crossposted to Ao3.
….
Elizabeth throws the policy book she had been trying to read onto the floor. It makes a heavy thud. She lets out a loud sigh. Nine is really too early to go to sleep, though she knows she should probably try given that a two am summon to the Situation Room isn't out of the question. Instead, she stands up and walks over to her vanity, she rearranges a few bottles and starts to shift through her jewelry box, her necklaces have once again worked themselves into some kind of Gordian knot. Annoyed, she drops them and moves over to the closet and flips through her blouses with thoughts about choosing an outfit for tomorrow. She comes across an orange blouse that she's sure she got rid of because it does weird things to her skin tone, she yanks it off the hanger and tosses it to the ground. It lands in the bathroom and when she goes to move it she notices that the floor in the bathroom could really use a good scrubbing. She thinks about getting out the supplies to clean, but instead sits down on the floor of the closet, leaning against the door frame.
She runs her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp. She fishes her phone out of her robe pocket and looks at the screen. Henry hasn't texted or called. Daisy has sent 5 messages about her interview on Rachel Maddow tomorrow and Blake has sent her two about the breakfast with the Brazilian delegation. She swipes them away and instead navigates to Henry's. His last message sent at 8:04 pm "It's going to be another late night, meeting with some of the Brass to go over plans. Sorry babe. xoxo."
Elizabeth hits the button to call him, hoping maybe he has a few minutes or even just one minute. It rings four times and goes to voice mail. She stabs the hang up button. She types out a quick text. "Miss you. Call please when you get a moment, even if it's late. xoxo."
When they first started dating, she worried that they were too dependent on each other, that they needed each other too much, that because they wanted to spend so much time together something was wrong. Her friends had told her it would fade, the "Honeymoon Phase" would end. And yet, somehow, even long after their actual Honeymoon, it never has. It had taken her ten years of marriage to figure out that they both just genuinely enjoyed and got pleasure from each other's company and that was a rare thing. These days she just treasures their happiness given that so many of the relationships around them are full of divorce and unhappiness and infidelity.
The other thing people had told her that had turned out to be false was that their sex life would become dull and routine. Everyone said that as the years went by they would have less sex and that it would become a chore. Their reality couldn't be further from that prediction. The only reason they had any any less now is because of their ridiculous schedules and that they (or Henry at least) needed slightly more recovery time. She is incredibly attracted to her husband and though they have certainly had dry spells (when all the kids were young and during a handful of rough patches are the only two that come to mind), if they are in the same time zone, it's a rare week when they don't get some kind of action in, even if it is only some quick phone sex. (She mostly refuses to sext, it could too easily end up splashed over the New York Times, but she quite enjoys phone sex. She jokes that if any malevolent foreign entities or the NSA are listening in they can get their rocks off.) They've been occupying the same space, brushing up against each other in the kitchen and bathroom, but she hasn't gotten anything more than a quick peck in almost two weeks. It's maddening. She blames it on the tension in their marriage (though she refuses to call it a 'rough patch' yet) and the intensity of work recently (if countries could stop shooting at each other for one whole day that would be delightful).
Whatever the reason, she now finds herself sitting on the floor of the closet contemplating her options. She leans her head against the frame, banging it a few times in frustration, keeping her eyes closed. A quick masturbation session with her hand is not going to do the trick. She needs skin on her skin and pressure inside her, rubbing just the right spots. She groans.
She opens her eyes and looks around at the things stacked on the top shelf. Maybe she can organize all of the junk, it will keep her mind busy at least. She spots a small blue box tucked in between an old suitcase and a container of shoes. She smiles. That might just do the trick, for the short term at least.
She forgets about organizing and stands on her tip-toes and wiggles the box off the shelf. On her way back to the bed she flicks most of the lights off and checks to make sure the door is locked (even though they are older and should know better, her children have a terrible habit of entering the room without knocking). She sits down on top of the sheets after pushing the duvet away. Setting the box to the side, Elizabeth closes her eyes and starts trailing her fingers over her chest. She needs Henry right now, his fingers would feel so much better.
She spends some times circling her nipples through the thin t-shirt, squeezing them periodically. She lets out a moan suppressed by her teeth on her bottom lip. She knows she probably doesn't need the warm up, but she also knows that if Henry were here he would definitely make her wait. When her hips are increasingly rocking from the stimulation, she moves down to her pajama pants and pushes them and her underwear down and off.
A quick brush between her legs proves that she was right, she is more than wet enough. She massages her clit while holding herself open, pushing one finger down and around, scraping her nail across it every few passes. Branches of energy jolt out from that single point and she could definitely come like this in about three minutes flat. That's not what her body is craving though so she stops and moves two fingers down and starts to thrust shallowly inside. This angle does not work and she can't get any depth or pressure, but when she spreads her fingers out to stretch the tissue at her opening it's almost what her body is craving.
Elizabeth pulls her fingers out and reaches for the box. She fumbles with the top, flipping it over. God, it had been awhile since they had used anything in here which probably means she needs to accept that this is an actual "rough patch." She takes out three items and pushes the box to the side. The first item is a dildo. Henry had bought it for her a few years ago after she joked that he was neglecting her sexual needs while he was away for two weeks in Italy. She doesn't use it much, she can't take it on trips with her (really all she needs is tabloid stories about how her sex toy came rolling out at the airport in Berlin, she isn't sure if Russell Jackson or Daisy would have an aneurysm first) and when she's home she wants the real thing. It is only slightly smaller than her husband's penis, but it is blue. Combined with the other two things it will get the job done. One of them is a small pink vibrator that they will often use together to enhance the experience and the other is a bottle of high quality lube because extra lubrication is never a bad idea.
When Elizabeth had started going through her confirmation hearings and the Senators asked her increasingly more personal questions she almost made Henry throw the whole box out (she had also almost made him call her elementary teachers and pretend he was an investigator and see if they had good things to say about her, but that was a level of crazy she was glad they were past, thank god she never had go through that much scrutiny again). He had refused; first, reminding her of how much she enjoyed each and every thing in there by demonstrating their use (she might have stumbled walking up the steps of the Capitol the next day because her thighs were aching), and then by telling her that someone would have to break into their house to find it. Tonight she is really glad he hadn't listened to her.
She takes the blue toy and brings it straight down, dragging it between he inner lips, pressing it against her clit. She grabs the pump of lube with her other hand and squirts a good amount on the silicone. She never gets quite as wet when she's by herself and she doesn't have the patience to build herself up too much more tonight. She places the bottle to the side and brings that hand back to spread the lubricant over the toy, before using both hands to push it inside slowly. Her head presses back into the headboard and she groans. She shifts down the bed until she's almost horizontal. She clenches against the fake cock feeling the delightful pressure against her walls. Warmth rises through her body. She pulls it out and pushes it back in slowly, reveling in the feeling of something inside of her. She continues thrusting it in and out, speeding up as her g-spot pulses with need. The toy has a little bit of a curve and just enough of a ridge to almost make her explode if she goes fast enough.
Her eyes are closed and all she sees is Henry. She thinks about the time shortly after they moved to this house that they had sex on top of the dining room table (which she thoroughly sanitized afterwards, along with the kitchen counters, the downstairs bathroom sink, and the living room couch; with the amount of christening they had done the first month they lived here it's a good thing Henry is almost, kind of, a priest). On the table he had knelt by her bottom and lifted her hips as her legs draped over his arms and fucked her until she was pretty sure she literally saw stars. They had both been sore the next day, but the depth he had been able to achieve in that position had been more than worth it.
Ready to come, she continues the thrusts with her left hand, somewhat sloppily, but it's good enough, while she fumbles for the vibrator with her right. She pushes it on, quickly shifting to the setting she knows she likes. She moves it to her sex, pushing it against the right side of her clit. "Yes." she pants. She manages four more messy thrusts before she is gasping and the springs of need in her abdomen are releasing throughout her body. Her hips are moving back and forth seeking out the maximum stimulation.
She stills but continues to hold the buzzing toy to her clit. It is exceedingly sensitive right now, but she's pretty sure she can come again if she keeps this up.
Her phone rings, vibrating against her side where it rests in the robe she never removed. God she must be a sight, half-dressed and flushed in a post-orgasmic glow. She turns the noisy toy off, dropping it on the bed with the dildo she quickly pulls out as well (she really can't answer a call that could be from a world leader with a blue sex toy inside her).
She fishes her phone out and smiles when she sees the caller ID, it's Henry. Now she wishes she had left the toy in, but maybe she can use it while he talks.
"Hi love," she answers.
"Hi babe. How is everything?" He sounds distracted and she hears voices in the background which is unfortunate, but maybe she can tease him a little bit.
"Good Same old, same old. I miss you. What's keeping you so late?" She wants to find out if things are serious because she might be horny but she's not going to distract him if lives are on the line. Country and duty first and all that.
"Nothing really. It's all unnecessarily urgent late-night meetings. I wish I was home. I'm starting to resent these officers a little bit for keeping me from my lovely wife."
She smiles at that. "I wish you were here. I miss you."
He chuckles. "You already said that babe."
"I know, but I really miss you." She goes breathy for the last bit, making her point clear. "I want you."
He inhales sharply. "Oh yeah? How do you miss me?"
Oh he doesn't know the dangerous game he's playing, she goes in for the kill, knowing there's no time for subtlety. "My body misses you. I just made myself come so hard thinking about that time on the dining room table. Do you remember? God you were so deep I think I felt it for a week afterward. Tonight I used the dildo you bought me, but it wasn't the same. I want you. I want your cock."
He is silent on the other end. She pulls the phone back to make sure it hasn't disconnected, but he is still there. "Henry?"
…..
Elizabeth is unbelievable. He really can't with her sometimes, if her colleagues could hear her mouth when she is like this they'd be shocked. She is as verbally skilled in the bedroom as she is when she's negotiating world peace.
The minute he realized what she was saying his erection swelled, fully hard and stretching the front of his pants. It was all he could do to turn to face the wall before someone noticed.
"Elizabeth," he grinds out.
She laughs. "Yes?" she asks, the humor evident in her voice.
"There are people. We just took a 15 minute break. There's a 3 star general not 15 feet from me."
She laughs again. "Well better be careful then. Did you want to hear about how I also used our favorite little vibrator on my clit at the same time? It felt divine, almost as good as you. I can't go as hard and fast as you can though. It's unfortunate. I was about to see if I could come again when you called. The toys are right here next me."
By this point he is panting softly, one hand stretched out and pushed against the wall, his head hanging down. One of the aides is giving him an odd look and the last thing he wants if for them to come over here. He straightens up and shifts so that he is standing a bit farther away and more into the corner.
"Liz...I…We..." He can almost hear her shiver at his speechlessness. He only calls her Liz when he has lost the ability to make words with more than one syllable.
She must take his words as leave to continue, because she goes on. "I pushed it back inside. It's hitting all the right spots. I don't know how you found this one, but it feels so damn good. When I go fast enough…..Ahhhhh." She cries out. "I'm so fucking wet. I used the lube for the first round but I don't need it now."
He can't speak, he just lets out what might be a whine or might be a grunt.
A voice behind him shouts "Okay people let's get it back together and try to get out of here before midnight."
"Sounds like you need to go. Too bad." He hears a vibrating noise. "I'm just going to use this too, I'm going to pretend it's your tongue." She is panting now. "Wake me up when you get home, I'd like to taste you. You know how much you like my mouth. Bye babe." She moans and hangs up.
The meeting is reconvening behind him but the bulge in his pants shows no sign of going down. He adjusts so that he is still mostly facing the wall but his head is looking at the presenter. He silently curses his wife. It's going to be a long night. The image of her spread out on their bed getting herself off while thinking about him is going to stick around for a while.
….
It's almost two when he finally opens the door to the house. He tiptoes upstairs and enters the bedroom. Elizabeth is asleep of course, her blonde hair spread out over the pillow. She appears to be fully dressed (which is a shame, but they gave up sleeping naked when they had kids) and no evidence of her earlier activities is visible. He steps to his side of the bed and strips to his boxers and t-shirt. He's too tired to shower and he's hoping he can talk his wife into some extracurricular activities in the shower once the sun is up.
He lays down next to her, banding his arm across her waist and pulling her into him. He kisses the back of her neck. She stirs. "Whattimeisit?" she slurs.
"Late. You did tell me to wake you though."
"Henry?" She opens her eyes and turns to face him, pushing herself into his chest.
"Well I certainly hope you don't have any other men climbing into your bed."
"Mmmm. Nope. Just you." She mumbles into his shirt while working one of her legs between his so they are entangled. "This is nice. Missed you." He watches her for a minute as she quiets and her breaths start to slow again.
"You mentioned that on the phone earlier, along with some other...choice words." He can feel her grin against him. "This is nice and all, but if you're too tired, I, uh, might need to go take care of some things." She moves a leg up and he knows that she can feel he is almost fully hard already. He has been since he climbed into the bed, thinking about what she was doing in this spot just a few hours earlier.
She laughs and pushes him so that he is laying flat. Propping herself up on her elbow next to him, she kicks the blankets away. "Show me," she says.
"Show you what?"
"How you would take care if it." She runs her free hand over his cloth covered stomach, skimming just under his boxers.
"I don't think that was the earlier deal."
"Hmmmm." She hums but merely continues her lazy tracing of his abs.
He pushes his boxers down and kicks them off. He immediately moves his hand to his erection and pumps a few times. He groans. "Babe. I want you."
Her eyes are locked on his hand "We don't always get what we want." He continues his movements and suddenly she is moving and her mouth is on him, sucking and pulling and licking. He buries his hands in her hair and tries to urge her on, but she has her own agenda. She forms a seal around the head of his erection and moves her tongue back and forth rapidly over the sensitive spot on the underside. He can't help but let out a load moan.
And then she is moving again, this time away from him and is fumbling with items on her nightstand. She turns back to him and she has the bottle of lube, after putting a generous amount in her hand she throws it to the side. "I want to watch. I want to see you come undone," she says as she takes her now lubricated hand and moves it to his length, moving it up and down. "Help me."
He takes his right hand and wraps it around hers, speeding up her movements. "Babe. Eliz… I'm not going to last."
Her eyes haven't strayed from their combined hands. "Let go. Come for me."
A few more strokes and he's done, the heat that had been building in his abdomen, spills out over their hands and his stomach. His hips thrust up as she milks the last bit out of him. He removes his hand and sinks into the bed, letting out a satisfied sigh.
He watches as she takes her hand and brings it to her mouth, sucking some of him off of her fingers. He groans and feels a twitch in his groin. "You're going to kill me you know."
She smiles around her fingers and finishes licking them clean. She grabs a box of tissues and helps him clean up and get his boxers back on. She turns over so he can press against her back. He pulls the covers over them and spoons her. "I love you." he says as he peppers her neck and back with kisses.
"Mhmmm. Love you too. We both actually need to sleep though."
"Shower together in the morning? I really would like to be inside you."
"It's a date," she mumbles out.
He closes his eyes and slips happily into sleep.