Hey there!
It's been a while, huh? I know, I got a little busy with a few other things... However, now I'm back with a new chapter and, I think that this is also it, for now at least, about this one-shots series.
I have received many, many requests from you guys, but you know that it would be close to impossible writing every single one. Personally, I find it easier when the prompt meets my own headcanons about Vauseman, but I have still tried to do a few that weren't exactly wrapped into that sphere, lol.
I'm glad you have enjoyed this serie, and I'm so happy that you have been pleased with the results I came up with from your requests.
This chapter is not taken from a specific prompt, although I do remember someone requesting Vauseman dancing, and a few others asking for more sex in public, so... Ahem! :D
Yep, I got a bit naughty on this one :P Although it's not excessively smutty. Anyway...
Enjoy
There is a fluidity in the way Alex moves, born from the confidence that she wears so flawlessly, and that inevitably makes people's head turn every time she does something as ordinary as just... walk down a street.
It's nothing surprising, really. Her astonishing beauty, her gorgeous traits, her long, proud, dark mane contrasting so exquisitely with her fair complexion and her stunning aqua-green eyes adorned with hidden, precious flecks of gold, would steal the breath away from anyone, and you are not so embarrassed to admit that you might have been a little jealous, on occasions, at the very beginning of your relationship, about the amount of attention that someone like Alex, someone with that unique beauty and confidence can attract.
You really should have known better, especially since it was those same traits, in addition to her refined charm, her playful, teasing nature, that layer of sass, her gorgeous smile and piercing green eyes, that have drawn you so magnetically to her.
But her beauty is not simply found in her look.
The confidence that she carries with her is the main source of what makes Alex so irresistibly attractive.
It's mostly displayed in the way she holds herself up, in her posture when she walks, in the elegant, feline-light steps that she takes without putting any effort behind them, without actively trying to drive you insane with the subtle sway of her hips.
Still, even that nonchalant strut, and the consecutive mix of jealousy and envy that it can elicit from people, and make you feel (in particular) is nothing compared to when she gives a real demonstration of exactly how ridiculously attractive she can be...
When her beauty and confidence collide together in the most sensual way possible.
. . .
Dancing has never been in the top set of your skills.
But Alex... oh, well...
The overly used expression of "feeling the music" is anything but a redundant cliché when it comes down to Alex and her abilities about... performing, on the dance floor.
Because she actually feels the music.
As pulses that tickle on her skin, and seep in her bloodstream, in the fibers of her muscles, where she transforms it into movements that would make water itself envious of such fluidity, of such sweet, flowing harmony.
You know you definitely are, but in an awed way, one that is almost even source of inspiration, because you are perfectly aware of not being a great dancer, have never tried to deny it. But that doesn't stop you from trying to keep up with your lover's moves, glaring at whoever glances at her with obvious interest - usually a more talented and graceful dancer with the clear intent of taking her away from you. And when your murderous glares don't work, you get a bit more daring and pull her closer to you.
A gesture that is hard to misinterpret since it's almost like your entire body language is growling a possessive "mine" to whatever rival had laid eyes on your lover.
Alex, as it is her usual reaction when you bare your teeth and take initiative, finds it endlessly amusing, in an endearing way, so much that one night while you are out having fun in an outdoor beach club and you have just thrown a "don't you dare" look at someone whose gaze had lingered on Alex's perfect, firm backside for a second too long, your lover, taking advantage of your momentary distraction, comes behind you just as a slower, more sensual song starts playing through the speakers, setting her hands on your hips, aligning them with her own, and urging you to follow her gentle sway.
It's far easier tonight feeling looser.
The couple of drinks that you had, have swirled with that thing that you and Alex have shared a few puffs of earlier, and the result is that you feel infinitely lighter, and the tension that usually stiffens your spine and locks your junctures while you dance is nowhere to be found.
But what looses you up even further, and frees you from those entangled strands of not-exactly-jealousy (because you still refuse to acknowledge that emotion for what it really is) is the feeling of her, pressed so close behind you.
It sends, you think, a pretty clear message to those surrounding you.
Alex is so sweetly hot against you.
The air, in general, is a little humid, but not exactly sticky on your skin, it's actually one of the coolest nights you have had since you have gotten here, and the limpid clear sky stretching above you is proof of that.
It's dark, but devoid of clouds, and dusted with more stars than you have ever seen all in one time.
You let your head fall onto Alex's shoulder as you stare at their glimmering beauty and savor the feeling of how her body fits oh so perfectly against your back.
Soon, the rest of the stiffness that hasn't been taken away from the weed you smoked and the couple of tequila shots you downed, melts away under the comforting, gentle and yet firm and secure touch of Alex's hands on your waist.
It's not possessive, but you still revel whenever you feel Alex's fingertips twitch and grasp a little tighter the fabric of your shirt.
"Can you feel it?" She breathes in your ear, and even above the music, now carrying a softer melody, but still thumping in your chest, you can hear her perfectly. As well as you can hear the raspy huskiness in her voice, and feel the hotness of her breath on that sweet spot just below your ear.
She is talking about the music, asking if you can feel it flow through you like it's doing through her, but she is also asking if...
"Can you feel me, Pipes?"
And oh... you most certainly can.
The sound of her voice, so hot and sultry in your ear, is enough to make you shiver, or maybe it's the question itself, or the feeling of her hands tracing the curve of your waist, one going down to trace the jut of your hip, the over traveling up to subtly brush the side of your breast while her hips keep rolling, sensually, against your own, stirring more and more awake the feeling that is always there, nestled in your lower belly.
You suck in a shuddering breath as another, more intense shiver tingles down your spine, and you can already picture the smirk that is most likely tugging at Alex's lips in feeling that reaction, even before you turn to look at her and have your confirmation, getting greeted by the much expected sly, gorgeous smile of hers.
"Yes." You answer then, equally husky and breathy, throat suddenly dry at the sight of those inviting, clear, rippling pools smiling pleased back at you.
There are people everywhere surrounding you but your entire world is in those green eyes, in the emotions shimmering in them that you reflect right back at her. Even under the mist lifted by alcohol and weed, it's never been easier to see it with such clarity.
The position is a little awkward but the urge to kiss her and quench your sudden thirst wins out, so you crane your neck back a little, bring one hand up to slip it through her hair, and Alex, with that smirk blossoming into a full grin, does the rest, meeting you halfway and pressing her still smiling lips against yours.
Despite the way it starts, the kiss turns out to be the opposite of chaste and quick.
It could never stay that way with the strong, solid frame of her body cradling yours, holding you so tightly against hers, hands slowly roaming and groping with quiet want...
But that feeling only makes you hum, delighted, in her mouth, and has you melt even further against her front while she continues following the low beats of the music with tremendous ease.
She doesn't need to actively take the lead, so to speak. There is no choice for you but to follow the sensual flow of the rhythm Alex guides you into, and the ease with which you meet each roll and sway of her hips, doesn't even surprise you.
It feels natural. Instinctive even. In the way your bodies always feel when you are pressed so intimately against each other.
The basses of the music resonate inside your ribcage, thrumming in your throat, vibrating on your tongue as it slides along Alex's in a dance of their own, but you know that the other rhythm, the one pulsing in your neck and ears, the one prickling on your fingertips as they scrape slightly at Alex's scalp, is actually your heart picking up speed as the kiss deepens, growing hotter and unrestrained, leaving you utterly breathless.
And then, just like that, just when your head was starting to swim for lack of air, Alex breaks it, pulling back and leaving you disoriented. A sense of dizziness that only increases when she spins you around, but even in your giddy state you really can't help but squeak a laugh, a sound that you would think gets lost in the ether, in the night sky spread above you and glittering so beautifully, swallowed in the loudness of the music surrounding you, but it certainly doesn't get lost to Alex, who hears it and sees it forming dimples on your cheeks, and who grins in response with the most beautiful smile that makes you inevitably think if it's even possible to fall deeper in love with her.
Sure, you are a bit breezy, a bit high, too, but there is no mistaking the magnitude of the emotion swelling in your chest for her.
There is no mistaking the way your heart always stutters at the sight of that smile, tripping into a halt, knocking the breath out of you, only for that beat to pick up double time in the moment you see the glint of affection in her eyes, making you think that yes, she proves it to you every day that you are nowhere near reaching the bottom of that rich well of emotion.
Now, however, you can see something else in there too, and in the moment that smile quirks into something a bit more mischievous, just when her hand reaches down to your butt and gives a gentle squeeze that makes you gasp and buck your hips, instinctively, into hers, you already know what it is that she has in mind. What kind of ideas your very responsive body has given her.
Heat pools in your belly, dense and so sweetly burning as the feeling nestled there gets stirred even further. Because that's all it really takes, any time.
The feeling of Alex on you. Her hands tracing your curves. And her soft warm breath caressing the sensitive skin on the side of your neck as she leans in to nibble on that tender, extremely sensitive spot under your ear.
"Alex..." You find yourself gasping, cursing immediately when uttering her name makes her pull back, replacing the heat of her mouth with the coolness of the air.
"Yes?" She asks, and the innocence in her voice is completely betrayed by the delighted sparkle that you see shimmer ardently in those expressive green eyes.
You swallow and lick your lips. Anticipation makes you quiver. Electricity sprinkles along your spine, traveling lower until it settles in your belly, where it feeds that little flame that had started flickering, licking at your insides since the moment Alex pulled you into the dance floor.
The beats of the music in your throat dissipate against the more forceful thumps of your heart as Alex's hand travels up the inside of your thigh, making your breath catch in your lungs, and honestly, you have never been gladder that you have decided to wear a skirt tonight instead of a pair of jeans shorts.
The far easier access only makes this so much harder to resist.
Despite the intention behind that touch, however, growing more and more purposeful with every single inch that gets her closer to the already throbbing prize between your legs, there is still that note of surprise, that feeling of self-consciousness that sticks in the back of your mind when you realize that yes, she is going to do it- to do you, right here, right now, in front of all these people that, even if their attention is on the music and their senses are dulled by whatever kind of drug this place is clearly overflowing with, it's still going to be in a dance floor packed with strangers, whose gazes definitely happen to land - even though not linger excessively, thanks to the spinning lights - on you two, because yeah, you do tend to attract people's attention, especially when you are resting so close to each other.
Voicing to Alex what you are not even sure is a true concern from your part, or even suggest that you could just... move a little more towards the edge of the dance floor and towards the beach, away from the main cluster of dancers you are right in the middle of, would only earn you some teasing along the line of "feeling shy all of a sudden, kid?" And, truth be told, it's not shyness and not even embarrassment - as she is well aware of - that thing that heats your face up. But it is that same thrilling feeling that never fails to make itself knows at the mere thought of doing something forbidden, of possibly getting caught, that flares inside you and draws a gush of slippery warmth out of you to drench even more your already soaked panties.
Alex is still there, however, looking at you curiously and yet knowingly, because reading you has always come so easy to her since the first moment, and you know that there is no point in denying this.. treat, to either her, or yourself.
So you swallow those nerves fluttering with equal anticipation and trepidation in your stomach, and just wrap your arms around her neck, both for balance and closeness, tugging her further onto your space until you are just a kiss away from each other. Lips barely brushing, so sweet and warm. The thirst from before returns with a vengeance, spreading much, much lower, and demanding to be listened to.
And just when you think that Alex might finally grant you some mercy by either leaning in and kiss you or tug your panties on the side when her hand finally reaches the juncture of your thigh, she surprises you again.
She pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and then...
"Are you sure, Pipes?"
There it is.
The question, the search for the ultimate confirmation that you are completely into this.
Your chance to back away if you are uncertain.
Because Alex is infinitely considerate, but also immensely perceptive, and you know that she has caught the signs of your not-quite-reluctance mingled with the much more ardent excitement that has started burning inside you ever since you have perceived her... intention.
Her voice is barely above a whisper, so soft, but you can hear her perfectly fine even with the music blasting all around. But, most of all, you can hear that layer of reassurance resting behind that question.
If you had even just a trace of doubt clinging onto you, it's taken away in this exact moment, in the instant you see the comforting understanding in her gaze.
A simple "yes, absolutely" would be more than enough, but the emotion blossoming tenfold into your chest tightens your throat, and so, when words don't come out, you decide to give her all your approval by lacing your fingers through her hair and pull her into a deep, passionate kiss.
You can feel, more than hear, the way Alex growls approvingly into your mouth. Low, guttural, filled with an infinite appreciation that she also shows by pulling you impossibly closer to her.
With your consent to get wickedly reckless, she takes advantage of the kiss to tug your underwear on the side and, with no preamble, already assured that you are willing and ready for her by not only your own assent but the feeling of slick heat that greets her fingers, she lets herself slide through your folds, lower and, even if the position doesn't grant the best mobility and easiest, smoothest access, the wetness coating you is still more than enough to allow her to slide inside.
You welcome her in with longing, and keep her there like the long-missing piece that completes you.
Two, glorious, extremely talented fingers stretch your tight opening, and the light sting of pain that you feel at first, is soothed as soon as she slides all the way inside you and a shock of relief and pleasure mingled together travels through your entire being.
Alex swallows, with greed, the moan that rises from your chest, even though probably no one around would have been able to hear it, but your sudden need for air has you - regretfully - break the kiss anyway in order to gulp a mouthful of oxygen.
Alex doesn't wait for you to get used to the new intrusion, reading well into that eagerness that makes you buck your hips involuntarily against her hand as an unconscious invitation to move. An invitation that, much to your immense relief, without even needing to voice anything to her, gets immediately answered.
You haven't realized how much you wanted this until you feel her move inside you, feel her fingertips caress your soft, ridged inner walls that flutter in approval around her.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, in that zone that has remained surprisingly unaffected by the alcohol and weed, you wonder how can Alex still be so lucid, not only to lead in your soft sway of a sensual-turned-sexual dance, but also choose, and keep with steadiness, a contrastingly, wonderfully harsher rhythm to fuck you.
When it comes to Alex and her array of skills you know better than to be surprised, and right now, you are actually too lost to be anything but grateful for that wonderful penetration.
You already know it's not going to last for long, the music the slow, sensual dancing, the knowledge of what you are doing - and especially where you are doing it - makes you skip the whole build up part and has you already toeing that edge, like a diver preparing to leap. Knowing that once you'll trip over it, there is nothing you'll be able to do but just let gravity do the rest as you'll freefall into that abyss of pleasure.
And so, as you savor the moments that preceeds that inevitable fall, you bury your face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the equally sweet and tart scent of her skin laced with the muskiness of sweat as you hook one leg over her hip and just, grind against her.
Your inner muscles clench around the fingers buried inside you. Jealously, possessively, holding her there and mourning the loss of that delightful pressure, that exquisite stretch, when she pulls out only to push back in a heartbeat later.
Even with the air so humid and hot and growing stickier with the sweat forming between your bodies, slowly pressing down on you with a new gravity, you still feel so light, your limbs loose, your pelvis rolling with ease and familiarity, following the music even though it sounds so very distant, but most of all following the rhythm set by Alex's hand, and feeling as the sping coil hidden in your depths grows tighter and tighter with each curl of Alex's fingers against that sweet spot on your front wall that she keeps hitting with such precision every time she slides back inside you, drawing shudder after shudder out of you.
You throw your head back, eyes fluttering open by just a slit, enough to see the sky and stars above you spin like in a kaleidoscope.
You are almost there.
Alex must feel it, too, because at her next thrust her thumb comes to rest on the throbbing bud of your clit. The touch alone is an extra bounce on the diving board, so when she draws a few circles over it and simultaneously curls her fingertips over that tender, swollen spot inside you...
There is really nothing you can do to hold back.
Just let it happen and cling onto her as your body tenses up for that fragile split second, before spasming all over with the first drowning wave of your release.
You come on the note of a song that fades in your ringing ears before you can have a chance to properly recognize it. Lights flash before you closed eyes but they have nothing to do with the ones spinning in the disco or the stars blinking from the dark blue velvet of the night sky.
Craving for that further contact, you draw Alex into a searing kiss even though no one, with the music so loud would be able to hear your breathy gasp of pleasure. But the gesture has less to do with masking the reaching of that peak, and more with that burning, irrepressible, primal need to feel her as close to you as possible while pleasure floods through your veins and overwhelms your system.
Alex is more than happy to oblige, claiming your mouth into a long, deep kiss that leaves you breathless and makes you feel so delightfully dizzy. But she is also there holding you close, so you don't have to worry about your suddenly buckling knees and keep yourself up on your own while you come around her until your fluttering and clenching inner muscles loosen their grip into weak pulses.
When you come back down to earth, panting against Alex's lips, it is only to plummet into the deep emerald pools of your lover's eyes as soon as yours flutter open.
Dark and wanting and wide, but most of all rippling with desire.
The halting feeling in your chest in front of that sight is nothing new, but it's always so delightfully glorious and unique.
Everyone else around you seems completely unaware of what you have been doing in just the past minute, and you don't know if you should feel relieved or maybe... a bit disappointed.
It doesn't really matter anyway, not when Alex is looking at you like she is, lips quirking briefly in a hinted smirk you recognize the origin of even before she speaks.
"You know, I think your dancing might have improved a little." She teases, as expected.
You barely refrain from rolling your eyes, shaking your head and fighting off the smile threatening to curl your lips.
If you weren't still caught in the blissful grasp of the aftershock, and were able to stand on your own legs without Alex still holding your thigh against her hip, you would probably answer her with something smart, throw her back a slightly biting comment, but with the pleasure still coursing through your body, even just think about a possible retort seems inconceivable.
You just shut her up from any more playfulness in the best way you know how. By pulling her into a kiss that, despite your very recent release, still tastes of want.
As usual, she takes advantage of it to slip out of you and, even if your body is still recovering from your quick, although rather intense, orgasm, it takes very little for that feeling in your belly to get renewed.
Your little... improvisation, has been wonderful, and the descent so smooth and steady, but you both know that it's far from being anything close to enough.
It's an appetizer that, just like her touches and the solid, comforting feeling of her against you, has stimulated a much more voracious appetite.
Kissing her only reinforces that need, and from the way she kisses you back with matching enthusiasm, she already seems to get it, and that's probably why, when you pull back to look at her, pupils blown, eyes dark and lustful, and whisper her a simple "take me home" she doesn't look the tiny bit surprised.
She grins, and without having to say anything else, she does just that. Leading the way and cutting through the beach instead of heading for the front exit of the club, and, once you get home, stumbling through the threshold of your bungalow in between laughters and kisses, you waste no time in undressing her and laying her on the bed.
For how hard you try to take the lead though, Alex doesn't let you.
And honestly, once you have her there, grinning from above you, ready to devour you in the best, most satisfying way, you really can't find a reason to mind.
You grow a bit more lucid with every kiss that she places further down your body, every brush of lips, every teasing nibble. Your mind cleans from that mist of weed, from the light breeziness left by the couple of shots of tequila. But your senses get heightened all over again by the feeling of Alex all over you.
And this time, as you immerse into something more thorough and patient, the only music that starts playing, is the sweetest background of all, created by your mingled moans and groans and gasped breaths and the slick, wet sounds of kisses and intimate licks. And the only rhythm you are willingly enslaved to, is the one you know better than anything else in the world as your bodies move against the other with the most perfect, synched harmony, falling into the most wonderful dance of all, and that you know by heart.
