Disclaimer: Don't Own, Etc.
House parked his motorcycle in Cuddy's driveway a little before one on Saturday. He'd wanted to bring something over to Cuddy's, but he wasn't sure what. Since he didn't know what she was preparing for dinner, his options were pretty limited. He'd been through detox, and he decided bringing alcohol wasn't the best idea. It also wasn't easy to transport bottles on his bike.
Knowing that Cuddy watched her weight like a hawk, and guessing that she kept the kid's sugar intake to an absolute minimum, he figured she probably didn't have anything planned for dessert. He would have liked to bring cheesecake, but, again, a bike was not exactly the ideal conveyance for that. He settled on some cookies from his favorite Italian bakery. He'd asked for them to be packaged for shipping, figuring that would be sufficient protection. It cost a little extra, but it was worth it to be sure he didn't wind up with a pile of inedible crumbs.
He grabbed the cookies out of the panniers. He'd never wanted panniers because he always thought they made the bike look stupid, and they cut down on the bike's aerodynamics. Not to mention they made the rider look like a total geek. However, he did sometimes use the bike when he went shopping, so he had broken down and purchased some black nylon ones that he felt weren't too conspicuous. They'd come in handy today, that was for sure.
House lifted the box and shook it gently to assess the damage. It didn't sound like everything was completely pulverized, so that was good. He grabbed his cane from the holder, swung his leg over the bike and headed toward the front door.
He rang the bell and waited. Cuddy opened the door and let him into the foyer. House looked around for Rachel but he didn't see her.
"Hi."
"Hi. Where's the kid?"
"Since we're going to be in the park for a decent part of the afternoon, I put her down to take her nap early. She's still asleep. What's that?"
"Dessert. I don't think it got too destroyed on the way over."
He handed her the box.
"Can I take your coat? You probably needed it on the bike, but I think it's warm enough with the sun that you won't need it at the park."
"Okay."
House slipped it off and handed to her. Cuddy hung it on the coat rack. She'd forgotten how good a well-worn leather jacket could smell. And a jacket worn by House smelled even better. And it looked pretty sexy on him, too. Whoa, down girl! she thought.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"A glass of ice water would be great."
"Why don't you come in the kitchen with me?"
Cuddy had decided that both of them sitting on upholstered chairs in her living room would feel too much like they were supposed to have A Formal, Significant Discussion. She knew she was a little nervous and she suspected House was, too, although, as usual, he was very good at hiding what he was feeling. She just thought they would be more comfortable in her kitchen.
She put the box with dessert on the counter, got a glass and some ice and water from the door of her refrigerator and put it on the table in front of one of the chairs. House pulled out the chair and sat down as she got another glass, put some ice in it and reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of pomegranate tea. He watched her as she poured it, put it back in the fridge and sat down opposite him.
There was a lengthy, uncomfortable pause as they stared at each other.
"This is ridiculous."
"What?"
"How long have we known each other, Cuddy? Over twenty years?"
"Something like that."
"And we've worked together every day for, what, ten years?"
"Yes."
"Then why is this so awkward?"
"I don't know . . . maybe because it feels like we're starting over somehow?"
"God, I hope not. I'm too old to act like I don't know someone who's been in my life for almost half of it."
"You have to admit that in the last year or two, we've been rather, um, distant."
"Not because of me."
"Oh, so you had nothing to do with it, eh? You were supportive when I tried to adopt Joy and got me through it when it didn't happen? Again, you were helpful when I decided to foster Rachel and I had a rough patch at the beginning? You didn't decide to go with a hooker after you had the desk brought back to my office? When I expressed interest in you, you didn't behave completely inappropriately by grabbing my boob? And you had no unresolved issues with Amber's death, or Kutner's? And there was no time spent in a mental hospital detoxing and getting therapy?"
"Hey, I'm not the one who made her crippled friend walk up four flights of stairs, stole his cane or used a trip wire on him, I'm not the one who couldn't wait to acquire a new, young boyfriend the minute the man I had told, 'everyone thinks this is going somewhere,' left for the looney bin. I'm not the one who hid this relationship from her supposed friends, who made her crippled friend spend six hours in a car just to trick him away from celebrating Thanksgiving with her. And I'm not the one who allowed her crazed boyfriend to engage in some really nasty pranks against her so-called friends."
Well, there it was. Every grievance each had suffered at the other's hands for the past two years. It wasn't pleasant, but at least it was out there.
"Well, I apologized for most of that stuff. Especially for the stuff involving Lucas. You haven't even said you were sorry about anything."
"You know how I feel about apologies. They're just words."
"You don't think I actually regret what Lucas did to you? To us?"
"Yes, but it doesn't change anything."
"What does change things?"
"Doing something."
"What should we do then?"
"How the hell should I know? I've been treating people like crap my whole life, and they've returned the favor. I have no idea how to make that up to anyone and to get anyone to treat me decently in return. Why do you think I've been in therapy all this time? Hell, Wilson is my best friend, my only friend, and I can't even get him to forgive me."
"Forgive you for what?"
"Amber . . . Amber's death."
"I'm pretty sure he never blamed you for that in the first place. At least that's what he told me. Um, when we were still speaking to each other about things other than hospital business."
"Burned a lot of bridges, recently, huh?"
"Getting back to Amber . . . "
"I'd rather not. For one thing, it still isn't a laugh riot for me to talk about her, what with the hallucinations and all. Second, that's my issue with Wilson, not my issue with you. As we've both pointed out, we have plenty of those to work on already."
"So, what do we do?"
"Again, how the hell should I know?"
"Well, does your therapist have any ideas?"
"What, you have another boyfriend waiting in the wings and you need some new material to share to bond with him by humiliating me?"
"I guess I deserved that . . . I wasn't actually asking for you to reveal any more of your personal issues. I was asking if he had any techniques to fix relationships."
"What, like a 'How To' guide or something?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it does make it sound trivial. But, I just want to get past all this, and I'm willing to try pretty much anything to do that."
"Anything? Well, my therapist and I have talked about the importance of sex in personal relationships."
"You and Wilson working out a lot of things with sex, are you?"
"Hey, I tried, but he just wasn't game."
"How narrowed-minded of him!"
"I couldn't agree more. I'm hoping you'll be more willing to consider it."
"I'm guessing that sex between us, should we ever get to that point, is not going to be a problem. If we mess things up, it's going to be about other things."
"Glad to know you've got that part all worked out."
"We'll never get to it if we don't figure out this other stuff."
"Well, I might suggest that if it gets too difficult, we just go right to what we know will work, which, by your own admission, is sex. But I'm guessing that's not going to happen."
"You are so right about that."
"Wonderful. I get to be right about that, of all things."
"I thought you loved being right."
"Usually, I do, but in this case, not so much."
"So, what are we going to do?"
"And for the third time I repeat, I have no clue."
"You know, maybe you're right that we can't really 'start over,' but maybe we can set this stuff aside for a while."
"I'm such a big fan of denial, I wound up in the asylum, so, works for me . . . no, wait, that didn't work me . . . "
"I'm not saying we deny it, I'm just saying we don't try to deal with it all at once, today. God knows it'll come up again."
"I guess that works. And what do we do in the meantime, while we're waiting for these issues to surface?"
"I don't know. Maybe when Rachel wakes up we can go to the park. And then you could stay for dinner."
"Hmm, that sounds familiar . . . "
As if on cue, Cuddy and House heard Rachel making noises in her bedroom. Cuddy got up from the table, went and changed Rachel and appeared in the kitchen.
"Could you grab her backpack?"
"Aren't you going to feed her lunch?"
"I gave her some food before her nap. And I have snacks in the backpack."
"Yeah, I've seen your alleged snacks. That's why I brought my own stuff."
"Just don't give my daughter any of that junk."
"Oh, Cuddy, don't you know how hard it is for me to say 'no' to an adorable little girl like Rachel?"
"Oh. please. It's just part of your evil plot to get her buzzed on sugar and hand her off to me. Just remember, if you give her something at the park this afternoon, it will take effect just about the time we want to sit down for dinner."
"Damn, so much for that plan."
They walked the two blocks to the park.
"I thought you said I could sit on a bench; there aren't any seats."
"If I'm not mistaken, the end of that bench is designated for handicapped."
"You mean where that really fat guy is devouring his second bacon double-cheese burger and polishing off the extra-large fries and shake?"
"Yeah, that would be the spot."
House went over to the guy and held up his cane and pointed to it.
The guy grumbled something about "damn cripples" and got up, leaving most of his empty wrappers on the ground.
"I'm not picking up after you," House yelled to the guy as he walked away. In a short time, a park employee came by and snagged the waste with a spindle.
As House settled in on the bench, he watched Cuddy and Rachel. Cuddy was hovering very close by, supervising all of Rachel's activities. No surprise there. House was already convinced that between Cuddy's desperation to have a child and her need to control everything, this kid wouldn't have so much as a scratch on her until she was at least eighteen and had gone to college.
If nothing else, House tried to convince himself, he needed to be around to make sure this kid had some kind of real childhood. He'd let her stay up to watch something a little bit beyond the "appropriate" age. He'd teach her to play some raunchy blues on the piano. He'd let her eat junk food every now and then. When she was old enough, he'd take her on his motorcycle. House found he was smiling to himself at the image of this girl being excited to see him while Cuddy objected to the things they did. He liked the idea that he and Rachel could become partners in crime.
The bench cleared a bit as the afternoon wore on. Cuddy put Rachael in the sand pit, which was very dirty, but also very safe, and went to sit on the bench next to House.
"You're looking extremely smug," Cuddy noticed as she planted herself on the seat next to him.
"Nothing to be smug about," was his retort, as he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Well" Cuddy noted, "You were thinking about something when I came over here."
"Being a sentient human being, I can't help but think about something," House noted.
"As long as you weren't thinking inappropriate thoughts about little children while sitting on a park bench like an old pervert, then it's okay," Cuddy snarked.
"Just call me Aqualung," House deflected. There was no way he'd actually tell Cuddy what he had been thinking. For one thing, she would never approve of any of those things for her daughter, so House would have to slip them under the radar somehow. That meant no broadcasting of his plans.
Second, House had no idea if he'd even be around long enough to see any of this stuff occur. If I die because of all the crap I've put in my body over the years, it's too late to change that, anyway. But I can't voluntarily walk away. Not this time. This may very well be my last chance. Both with Cuddy, and . . . to be happy. Wait a minute; House thought to himself, he simply didn't do happy. As if he would actually allow himself to want that sentimental bullshit, anyway. And yet, he wanted it. Hell, maybe the therapy was doing . . . something. Although he still had no idea how to become happy. Or even content.
They spent another hour at the park, with Cuddy and Rachel playing and House firmly planted on the bench. They walked back to Cuddy's place to start dinner.
House was drafted, amid copious protests, to chop vegetables and make the salad. Cuddy cleaned the chicken and prepared the ingredients for the sauce.
They had a leisurely meal. After, Rachel played for a while, but she was tired and went to sleep after her bath with minimal protest. House and Cuddy found themselves sitting on the couch in her living room.
"I should probably get going."
"It's only seven-thirty. Why not stay for a while?"
"How long?"
"How should I know? As long as it feels like you should."
"And you know how well I deal with feelings."
"Just relax and stop making such a huge deal out of it, will you?"
"I should probably call my babysitter and let him know I'm not going to be home right away."
House retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jeans and pressed a number in his speed dial.
"Um, yeah . . . I'm at Cuddy's place . . . oh, please . . . I don't know . . . later . . . I said later."
House hung up the phone.
"I take it he was thrilled with the call."
"Sure, if you can call telling me he'd be up all night worrying whether I drove my bike into a ditch and was lying there slowly bleeding to death 'thrilled' . . . "
"God, Wilson is a worse drama queen than any thirteen-year-old girl."
"Even though it's completely misguided, it's good to know at least one person on the planet gives a shit whether I'm dead or not."
"Okay, now who's being the drama queen?"
"What?"
"You have to know that there are at least two people who care that you stay alive."
"You mean my mom?"
"I'm sure she does, but she wasn't the one I was talking about."
"Well, then who?"
"Me, you moron."
"Why Cuddy, I never knew you could be so romantic, soft or feminine."
"It's why I wear those long, spike heels and those tight, body armor-like power suits. Just to look romantic and soft."
"Well you sure look hot."
"I'm beginning to wonder if there is any point to this conversation, other than to allow you an extended leer."
"Do you know how any muscles are involved in the average leer?"
"Well, as long as you are getting some exercise, then it's okay."
There was a fairly lengthy pause.
"Want to watch some TV?"
"It's better than this awkward silence, I guess. But, I wish we could talk. We used to be able to talk . . . "
"Not really. I'd make comments about your wardrobe and you'd roll your eyes and come back with a snappy retort. Or I'd ask for permission to do some bizarre procedure and you'd say 'no' until I wore you down. Or I'd tell you some truth about yourself that you didn't want to face and you'd yell at me and throw me out of your office. Or, I'd do something insane to injure myself and you'd be there to help me . . . "
House looked away. Cuddy took his hand in hers and squeezed it.
"You mean like the time I was in your hospital room after the DBS?"
"Um, yeah . . . "
"I wish I could have helped you more when I finally recognized you needed it last year. I don't know why I didn't. It just scared me and hurt me so much to think of you suffering like that . . . "
"Is that why you hooked up with Lucas? Or was it his insane sex skills?"
"Sex skills?"
"Yeah. When we went on that stakeout, he told me all he had to do was touch you and you'd come. That's why we made the bet. He said that he made you so hot that not only would you risk being late to work to do it with him, that you'd ignore an emergency page from me because he'd make you come that fast and that hard. I hope the mind-blowing orgasm was worth the two hundred bucks it cost me."
"That was the bet? That he could get me to do it, ignore a page and that I would have an orgasm?"
"Yep."
"He lied to you."
"What do you mean? When you were about to resign, getting ready to leave the hospital and we were sitting in your car, you told me I should pay up."
"That's because I thought the bet was him getting me to have sex with him and ignore the page. I didn't know about the orgasm."
"You mean you didn't have one?"
"Are you kidding? We started at 7:45 and he was done by 7:47. I barely had the chance to get my skirt up and my panties down. I mean, I don't need a half-hour of foreplay like a lot of women, but even I need more than two minutes."
"So, Lucas The Sex God is really a premature ejaculator."
"Two minutes? Yeah, I'd say that's the textbook definition."
"Did that happen a lot? What about the other times you had sex?"
"It feels really weird talking to you about this."
"Oh, stop being a prude and tell me. I'm just curious."
"And I know how you get when you want to know something. Okay, well, two minutes was unusual for him, but he never really held on for more than fifteen minutes."
"That's kind of quick, isn't it? Did you get off with that?"
"After I learned that was how he was, I learned to do it faster, so I was okay a lot of the time."
"Well, even if you weren't, he always could have gone muff-diving to ease your tension."
"He wasn't a big fan of that. He was pretty good with his hands, when he wanted to be. But, after he'd come, he usually was so wiped out, he'd fall asleep."
"This is kind of funny."
"What? You find my sexual frustration amusing?"
"No. It's funny that here I was thinking you held on to this guy because you couldn't give up the ecstatic sex from a young, hot stud, and it turns out an old, crippled drug addict like me can perform better with a fifty-dollar hooker."
"Thanks for the visual on that, but, yeah, it's certainly ironic. What can I say? He was a good liar."
"Are you kidding? I've seen some great liars over the years. I even consider myself one, but he was The Michelangelo Of Falsehood."
"Lucky me."
"Hey, between him and me, you sure know how to pick 'em, Cuddy."
"Thanks."
"Well, on that note, I probably should be going. Mom's going to be waiting up for me."
"Why do you have to go?"
"You want me to stay? Did all this talk about sex get you in the mood, Cuddy?"
"As a matter of fact, yes. It's been over two months since Lucas left, and, as you now know, it wasn't like it was earth-shattering even when I was getting it more regularly. What do you say?"
"What about our talk earlier? I thought we weren't going to do it yet. Are you sure we're not rushing things?"
"As you pointed out, we've known each other for twenty-five years and worked together for ten. I hardly think that's rushing things."
"Okay. Just don't expect me to be a super-stud. I'm still old and crippled."
"Hey, if you can make it more than fifteen minutes, you're golden. And even if you don't, you can always get me with your tongue."
"I do like a snack."
"I bet your fifty-dollar hooker liked it, too."
"Never did it with a hooker."
"If you like it, why not?"
"Last time I checked, they don't make tongue condoms. Didn't want to pick up a nasty case of herpes."
"Okay. TMI."
"Speaking of condoms, I have some in my backpack."
"I've been on the pill since the fertility treatments to keep my cycle regular. And
I got checked after Lucas left just to be sure he didn't give me any more nasty surprises. And as I just told you, I haven't been with anyone since. I'm clean, so, unless you need one . . . "
"I had to get checked when I got my medical license back, and I haven't been with anyone else since then."
"Wow, you haven't even been with a hooker for all those months? How did you manage?"
"Let's just say my right hand and I haven't been this friendly since ninth grade. Don't give me that 'disgusted' look. I bet you've got a big honking vibrator in the drawer of your nightstand."
"You bet? You mean you don't know? I would have thought that finding that would be your top priority during one of your many break-ins."
"I've only broken in twice. And both times I ran out of time because I lingered too long at your underwear drawer. Hey, does this mean I get to ride bareback?"
"Yes."
"And it isn't even my birthday yet!"
"Just call Wilson."
"And tell him that I'll be home late tonight?"
"Just invite him over for brunch, here, with us, at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning."
"Sounds like a plan."
"I'll see you in the bedroom when you're done with your call."
House pulled out his phone and told Wilson to be at brunch. Wilson, of course, had all kinds of stupid questions. House shut him down and hung up the phone. He even turned it off so they wouldn't be disturbed.
He limped down the hall and entered Cuddy's bedroom. He became very excited at the view that greeted him. Cuddy was lying on the bed, in just her underwear, which consisted a red lace push up bra and matching tiny panties. She had her arms over her head and one leg was stretched out flat while the other was bent. Her legs were parted for a very good view. House observed that Cuddy's panties were a thong with a very thin strip that began at her backside and continued around to the front. The tiny piece of fabric barely covered her slit and the rest of her was completely exposed.
Looking at Cuddy in that position, with a seductive smile on her face, made House start to get very aroused. He felt a momentary flash of sympathy for Lucas. He quickly dismissed it. Lucas was a selfish bastard. Even if he couldn't keep from shooting his wad too soon, that didn't mean he couldn't give Cuddy her due in other ways. House was determined to do that. After tonight, she'd have no doubts at all about who the better lover was.
House undressed quickly, slipping out of his button down and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Cuddy made some appreciative noises when she saw his toned chest. He toed off his sneakers and socks, and then unbuckled his belt, undid the button and zipper on his jeans and pushed them down. He decided to keep his boxers on.
"Take those off."
"Hey, you still have your underwear on."
"Knowing you, not for long. Come on, take them off."
House hesitated for a second.
"This better not be about me seeing your scar. I was your doctor and I saw your leg right after the surgery. It can't be any worse than that. And I seem to remember a few years ago your dropping your pants in my office, pointing to the scar and asking me for a shot of morphine."
"Not my finest moment."
"You were desperate. It was understandable."
"But you gave me a placebo. It was psychosomatic."
"Not entirely. Not by a long shot. Besides, as a doctor you know psychosomatic pain hurts just as much as physical pain. Anyway, quit stalling and drop trou."
"Yes, mistress."
House stepped out of his boxers and headed over to the bed.
He began by kissing her. It was soft at first, with the intensity and passion increasing as time passed. House ran his hands over Cuddy's bra, feeling her nipples underneath. He undid the clasp and pulled the bra off her. He looked down at the perfect, luscious breasts before him.
"So beautiful."
He caressed, licked and sucked on her breasts. He moved his hands down her body until he reached her panties. His finger traveled down the tiny piece of fabric until it stopped over her core. He rubbed lightly through the fabric as Cuddy responded with a small moan.
"Can I ask you something? Why bother to wear panties at all if they're so tiny?"
"Oh that's so good. I guess I'd probably skip them if I didn't despise wearing pantyhose.
"You hate pantyhose?"
"They're incredibly confining."
"On cold days, I see you wear something hose-like on your legs, what is that?"
"Stockings."
"And a garter belt?"
"Yes, ummmm . . . "
"Why don't you just go commando?"
"I'm sitting in a meeting with no underwear, and I forget to keep my legs together tightly. Oh, there's a career builder."
"Depends on the career . . . "
"I'm a little to old to be a Playboy centerfold . . . oh, right there . . . and Sharon Stone already made a movie career out of it . . . "
"Do you mind if I take these off, then?"
"I was hoping you would . . . "
Cuddy lifted her hips as House slid the panties off her hips, down her legs and off. Cuddy was lying there with her legs spread apart. God, she was so tasty-looking. House struggled not to dive in with his tongue.
He simply couldn't keep his hands away. His fingers traced her folds and she moaned softly. He slid one finger in, and then a second. They pumped inside her as his tongue invaded her mouth.
House used the index finger on his other hand to lightly touch her clit, coaxing it out from under her folds. Cuddy moaned and began pushing her pelvis against both his hands. House continued until he felt she was close to the edge. He then eased up and kept her away a little.
"I was so close, why did you stop?"
He grinned evilly as he increased the intensity and brought her to the edge once more. For the second time, he eased off.
"God, House, will you just do it?"
He was having so much fun teasing her he almost forgot his mission to make sure Cuddy knew who the better lover was. He couldn't frustrate her too much. He increased the intensity of his motions for a third time.
"Come for me, Cuddy."
Cuddy complied. It wasn't like she had any choice, what with her pent-up need and House's wickedly skillful hands.
After her orgasm was done, House began to caress her folds again. Cuddy was about to protest that she wanted to move on when his fingers plunged inside her and his other finger found her already excited clit. Again, he took her to the edge twice, before bringing her over the third time.
Cuddy was a sweaty, panting mess at this point.
"God, that was amazing."
"Don't start talking in the past tense yet. We're just getting started."
With that comment, House dipped his head down to her core and began lightly licking her lips. Cuddy almost came from that sensation alone, along with the realization that his tongue was about to do some even more stimulating things.
Sure enough, his tongue plunged inside her, then worked around her opening. Cuddy's legs were starting to shake. House caressed the inside of her thighs very lightly. The tickling sensation made the shaking even worse.
His tongue finally found her clit. It danced across the already swollen, sensitive nub very lightly at first. Cuddy almost couldn't stand the sensation and her hips started bucking. House paused and looked up at her, his face covered with her wetness. It was so hot to see him looking at her like that. She groaned as his tongue continued to pleasure her most tender spot, making circular motions around the sides. When the tip of his tongue flicked against the tip, she couldn't stop and went over the edge in a most spectacular fashion. Even after the orgasm was over, she found herself whimpering and shaking.
"You know, I don't think I got a really good taste that time. I think I need another snack."
"Please, House. I'm not sure I can take anymore."
"Too bad. You're going to get it anyway."
House held down her hips and pushed up her legs, which increased her shaking even more. He began licking her folds again.
"As good as these gorgeous pussy lips taste, they are going to feel even better wrapped around my shaft."
Cuddy moaned as House slid his tongue inside and began licking around her opening again. Her legs twitched and were starting to ache, but what a wonderful ache it was. By the time he was finished, she wasn't sure she would be able to walk.
His tongue found her clit again. Cuddy was amazed that he knew there was a spot on the left side of her clit, in between it and her folds that, when it was stimulated, just drove her crazy. His found that spot and licked ever so lightly. It was enough to take her to the edge, but not over it.
He kept this up for at least five minutes. Cuddy knew she just couldn't take anymore.
"House, please . . . please . . . please . . . "
House continued the soft licking, seemingly unaffected by her entreaties. Cuddy was becoming desperate. As addled as her brain was, she knew that there was something she could say that would make him respond and relieve her sweet agony.
"House, only you can do this. I can't even do it myself. You own my body and I need you to make me come. Please allow me to come. Please . . . "
At that moment, House's tongue flicked across the tip of her clit and her pent up urgency exploded into a paroxysm of the most intense, sweetest release she had ever felt. She was dizzy and wondered if she was going to pass out.
House must have had the same concern.
"Are you still with me, Cuddy?"
"Mrgfgh."
"Don't leave me yet. I still haven't fucked you."
Cuddy couldn't believe it, but at the sound of those words, she felt a fresh flood of moisture down below. She still wasn't capable of speaking, so she pointed with a wavering finger. House's lips quirked into an evil grin.
"That's my naughty, horny girl."
After touching and tasting Cuddy for all this time and seeing her come so hard, House was at full attention. He pulled himself up on the bed as he kept her legs up in the air. He slid his hard cock slowly along her channel. Cuddy moaned in appreciation.
Even though House was sure Cuddy was ready for him, he still didn't want to rush things. He eased into her slowly, letting her feel every inch of him.
"Oh, God, I'm so full. It feels so good. Deeper and harder."
"Never let it be said I didn't oblige you, Cuddy."
House began thrusting slowly. He wanted to make sure he was hitting her g-spot. He got his confirmation shortly.
"Yes, that's it. That's it. Oh God, right there. Right there. Don't stop. Don't ever stop."
Despite the forcefulness of Cuddy's words, she was whimpering uncontrollably. She was begging as much as she had when House had her at the edge when he was eating her out. He continued to pick up the pace. He was amazed at his own self-control. He never could have waited this long when he was younger. Maybe there was at least one positive thing associated with being an old bastard.
House looked in Cuddy's eyes and she had gone somewhere else. They were lidded heavily and had the most intense look of pleasure he had ever seen. As he continued to thrust, her eyes were literally rolling to the back of her heading as she let out a deep, primal moan. Her muscles tightened all around him as she released with a fury.
House didn't know how he did it, but he kept himself from coming, even though he was ready to explode. He pushed her legs up higher and spread them even farther apart. Her muscles were like spaghetti so Cuddy couldn't have stopped him even if she had the mental awareness to do so. House was able to thrust even deeper.
Cuddy was past words. She was almost past sounds, other than the guttural noises made by an animal. House was just waiting for her release so he could let go himself. He was barely hanging on and he hoped it wouldn't be much longer.
After a few more thrusts, Cuddy's body was seized by a deep orgasm. Her entire body spasmed and she squeezed House so tightly he couldn't hold back any longer. His whole body stiffened and he emptied himself deep inside her.
He stayed inside her as he caught his breath. He looked at Cuddy and she was still no where near recovering. This gave him another very naughty idea.
He pulled out and lay beside her. He waited until she was almost recovered. She had her eyes closed. Her breathing was pretty regular and she had a crooked, blissful smile on her face. She looked so beautiful, he almost hesitated to do it, but he wanted to make sure she knew, once and for all, how much better he was.
"You know, even if Lucas came too fast to satisfy you, and he didn't like using his tongue, he still could have done this afterward."
House's hands quickly slid down Cuddy's body, gently pushing her legs even farther apart. He dipped his finger in her dripping wet pussy and found her still hugely swollen clit one last time. He knew that she was still so sensitive that almost any pressure could hurt her, so he used the lightest of touches as his finger moved across the tip of her clit. Her eyes popped open at the first touch, although she didn't look like she was able to say anything. In less than a minute, Cuddy's entire body seized with such force it actually shook the bed. Her legs pulled up and she was bucking into the bed.
He stopped and she was shaking and panting. Her eyes were closed, so he couldn't tell if she liked the last thing he had done. After she calmed down, and her body relaxed, and the smile returned to her face, even bigger than it had been before.
He pulled Cuddy into his arms and he waited for them to go to sleep. He was surprised when she whispered to him.
"That was . . . the best fuck . . . of my life. It was . . . the best fuck . . . of any woman's life . . . ever . . . thank you . . . for reminding me . . . what sex . . . can feel like . . . when someone really tries . . . to make you happy."
Cuddy smiled again as she rested against House's chest and finally fell asleep. House realized it was the best fuck of his life, too. Was this what happy really felt like? He hoped so.