A/N: Here's another MMoM fic for you guys. This time it's in House's perspective. And just in case some of you aren't familiar with MMoM, it stands for Merry Month of Masturbation. An amusing take on the phrase "Merry Month of May."

Alone

House limped to his bedroom, lips still tingling from the kiss his new wife bestowed upon him less than a minute ago.

Damn her, anyway! He cursed as he got undressed. Everything was so simple before. Why did she have to complicate things? Once he slipped into a T-shirt and PJ bottoms, he climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. The apartment was quiet, save for Dominika's movements on the couch down the hall. Being a leather couch, he could hear every move she made, every squirm. It never seemed to end, either.

Maybe she was having problems getting comfortable. Although he couldn't understand why. He'd had no problems falling asleep on that couch.

If I let her sleep in this bed, that would be a huge mistake, he thought as he envisioned her in a white lace bridal teddy with a matching garter belt and silk stockings. Her long legs were perfect and seemed to go on forever.

"Oh Christ," he groaned as his hand involuntarily slid down and into his pants to grip the erection that was threatening to take over.

He held still for a minute and listened, still gripping his cock as it twitched in his hand.. He could still hear her moving and then he heard...was it a whimper? A shuddering breath? What the hell was she doing out there? She should've been asleep by now. It had been a long day for both of them. Yet, she was obviously awake and so was he.

That's because we shouldn't be sleeping. We should be fucking. I should have dragged her in here, laid her out on the bed, white dress and all, and just fucked her senseless. Hell, she's legally my wife anyway. And she'd probably go for it.

He wasn't even aware that he was stroking his cock as he thought about her spread eagle on his bed, white lace teddy halfway open, garter gone, panties on the floor.

Then he could've sworn he heard Dominika whisper "Greg" from the living room and he closed his eyes, imagining himself pumping into her as she writhed underneath him. He stroked his cock harder and faster as he felt his balls tighten for their eventual release.

Oh yeah...she'd be begging me to give it to her, to make her cum and I would because, contrary to what some might think about me, I actually enjoy giving a woman what she wants. And they always come back.

Not bad for a Vicodin-addicted cripple.

Oh yeah! His eyes were still tightly shut as he gave a few more hard tugs and shot his load in long, satisfying spurts that left him completely exhausted and his pants soaked. Oh, sweet mother of God, yes!

Tomorrow...he thought as he lay there, too exhausted to move, but able to reach for the kleenex. I'll set the record straight with Dominika tomorrow. Lay down the law. She got her green card and she did agree to go along with whatever I wanted. It was only fair.

And if not. Well, there was always the iron-clad prenup.