White Doe | By : Vethysnia Category: -Misc TV Shows > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 1206 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Stranger Things. I make no money from this work. |
He gestured with his neck the direction of a door next to the basement laundry room. “My bed is in there...I started sleeping down here after you disappeared.”
His lips curved into a faint, subtle smile, and he took both her hands within his own and led her into his second bedroom, the two of them climbing awkwardly atop his immaculate sheets and settling down next to one another, arms entwined, lips exploring, minds overcome with solely one another and hardly anything else.
Her hands slid underneath his shirt, probing upward, innocently exploring the subtle differences between them, before coaxing him to remove it completely. Mike blushed furiously, knowing how far from athletic his body was, and how it was almost completely untouched by the sun.
Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he laughed timidly. “I'm so pale...”
She said nothing at first, merely lowered her head to his bare chest, brushing her lips against his ashen flesh.
“Soft.” She said breathlessly, her hand gliding along the narrow curve of his waste and to the acute elegance of his hip bone.
He lowered his neck to gently inhale the scent of autumn leaves emitting from her tangled brunette tresses, taking the risk and allowing his hands to wander across the roving fluency that was her ripening figure. His fingers tenderly grasped her thigh, gradually coaxing them, and the hem of her bunched nightgown further upward.
“So are you.” He said, their eyes locking, one pair of the smoothest chocolate and the other of the blackest space.
She nestled even closer against him, and as her slender legs shifted he was at last suddenly aware of how great his own physical need was. His body seemed to pulse in a sporadic breed of harmony; his veins flooded with blood, and a primal inclination that was measurably overruling any fear, or anxiety he harbored for quite the allotment of time.
He was in love with the girl so deeply enmeshed in his personal space, and it was only biological he wanted to show her in more ways than one. Never had he felt so much trust in another person, so much trust that at that point it would be foolish to question whether she felt the same.
The soft contours of El's lips hungrily sought the curves of his collarbone, and once again he felt himself quiver with ardor. His mind wanted to be lost in the endless stream of sensation, but his body called to him, cajoled him back to the world of corporeality, presenting its yearning in more obvious ways.
Mike exhaled heavily, clumsily sitting up to remove the remainder of his clothing, pausing when the only thing covering him was his briefs. He closed his eyes, counted to five, and without opening them removed the last garment. The cool basement air did nothing to stifle the heat radiating from his lower half, and all he could do was hope he didn't look ridiculous.
He flinched when he felt her hands upon him, and he opened his eyes to see her leading him by hand back to the bed, where she would sit with her athletic legs tucked neatly beneath her as she unabashedly discarded the nightgown, tan olive skin revealed in full with a vanishing flash of sheer white cloth.
Mike bit his lip, forcing himself not to look away as he so often did. He allowed himself to observe, in great detail, the conflicting simplicity and complexity of her being, and he drank in each nuance where it would be forever cherished. He barely noticed when she began to, surprisingly enough, become bashful at his nigh excessive gaze, and he quickly focused his attention once more, as though breaking free of a trance.
“...Pretty?” She asked quietly, the primitive query ever timid, and her expression creased in a forlorn sort of prodigal entrustment.
Mike couldn't help himself; he chuckled slightly, hoping laughter would ease the paradoxical tension within him. He shifted closer to her, approaching her on his hands and knees and lightly claiming her lips.
“More than pretty. A-a lot more.”
Her smile was radiant, close mouthed yet teeming with something pure. Ever still pure, despite her visage suddenly surmounted by an evident, and galvanic hunger. He realized she was unwilling to wait much longer, her patience wearing thin, and admittedly his own composure was slowly dissipating as she forcefully pulled him next to her once more.
The starkness of their bare skin clashed, and visceral sensation tore through them both, but Mike had minimal time to process it before she emphatically kissed him, again, and again, her effortful breath rising in volume to quiet moans.
It was uncanny each time he was unsure how to proceed, she would graciously prompt him with aid of her own. He wanted so badly to touch her, to grasp every part of her and never let go. Her silken hands slithered down his chest, hesitating slightly as they reached the thick patch of onyx body hair on his lower abdomen. He didn't realize it, but he held his breath, anticipating her next touch, closing his eyes and barely stifling an errant murmur as she tantalizingly stroked the erect shaft of his member with exploratory, spry fingers.
He throbbed eagerly against her feather-like touch, more blood fleeing from his head and pooling in a frenzied mass within his stomach and groin. The top row of his teeth sank firmly into his swollen bottom lip as he tried with what little cognition he still possessed to concentrate.
The other boys at school who would graphically describe this particular experience would, from then on, leave him all the more baffled, for this was so far from any kind of conquest. To even think of El as a prize to be won hypothetically made him feel briefly ill.
How often she would reach for him without reluctance; peculiar, how she was robbed of many things in her young lifetime except her ability to love and pleasure another person. It was a slow, and dilating process, but ultimately Mike was able to set aside his inhibitions, wanting to show her that he could love her back just as wholly. He advanced toward her, gently reclining El onto her back, and hovered above her whilst his lips gingerly trailed down the nape of her neck.
Mike tilted his head away to hazily gauge her reaction; her lids were shut tight, with dark brown lashes fluttering hectically against her cheekbones. She opened them, silently inquiring as to why he halted.
He swallowed with great difficulty, casting his gaze down the athletic slopes of her neck and collarbone, and at last daring to go further. He felt himself tremble subtly as his stare fixated upon her chest, before lowering his mouth to envelope the dusky, budding tip of her right mound. A subdued murmur escaped from her lips ever ajar, her back arching and delicately pushing the front of her torso further against his. Mike alarmingly pulled away, still unsure how to measure a positive response from a negative.
“A-are you alright?”
He must have appeared confused, perhaps even bewildered. But regardless, her expression seemed enraptured, and there was no other way to describe it. The way she looked at him made him want to weep, and he wasn't sure why. She looked at him as though he were her lifeline, her ultimate connection to that for which she longed, and grieved in desperation for more than anyone should have to bear. To know unequivocally, that she felt every bit the same as he did her, that she wanted him in this way and would fain accept him so completely, made his heart feel so heavy, and light all at once.
Biting his lip, he grimaced slightly as his body pulsated with a rush of endorphin so powerful the sensation was nearly painful. He had underestimated how overcast his cognizance would be, and somehow assumed that, in a different way, the tension was sure building just as uncomfortably for her.
“El...?” He started with delicate urgency, “Do you...know how to do this?”
For perchance the first time, he watched in mild surprisal as she immediately smiled, and began laughing softly, whilst she lain her palm warmly across his perspiring cheek to caress it.
“Yes, Mike. It's okay.”
And she kissed him blithely to seal her affirmation.
The dam broke; the tears fell, but he acted anyway, pushing through them, returning her smile with dark eyes glistening with saccharine felicity. He kissed her once more, at last allowing his body to move in concordance with its desires, with her body, with the strange variables by virtue of mother nature herself.
He knelt between her legs, awkwardly positioning himself against her although they were both too lost in the boundless cycle of their collective euphoria to take notice of his cumbersome maneuverability. For a moment he paused, closing his eyes as he experimentally rolled his hips against hers, the engorged and sensitive tip of him swathed by the intense heat, moisture, and tightness of her exquisite being and earning a strangled gasp from them both.
Mike hovered above her, their bare chests and stomachs melding, and he kissed her cheek wetly, before whispering one last shred of coherent solace.
“I'm sorry if it hurts...I...I love you, El.”
He entered her fully, evoking from her a quiet yet reactive murmur while he could merely cling to her for dear life as he vaguely attempted to process the visceral physical pathos into which they were both now plunging head first. His eyelids squeezed tightly shut; he buried his face into the contour of her neck, unable to handle the visual stimuli of gazing upon her, and began compelling his hips forward repeatedly.
Labored breath passed his lips, as did hers echoing gently in the shell of his ear, and everything felt so carnally authentic; a precious thing, a natural thing. Time disappeared, and Mike's only sundial became Eleven's encouraging and responsive whispers assisting him in navigating where, and how to please her. In the back of his bewitched mind he vaguely mused at how perfect her nonverbal approach was in this kind of predicament.
Her movements against him grew more insistent, and instinctively he thrust into her with more force, drawing from her throat a trembling moan far too conspicuous, ergo he kissed her to muffle the sound. Her slick depth tightened around him almost unbearably, rhythmically constricting him, and finally pushing him over the edge.
Biting his lip too hard for comfort, he vainly tried to silence his uninhibited whisper of a gasp as he came within her. Came for her. With her, even. The sensation was so intense that though his eyes were vice-like in closure, he could not help but cry from such a physical, and nearly metaphysical shared epiphany. His ministrations slowed, and he, with lack of coordination, rolled over beside El, his arm languidly resting upon the smooth concave of her stomach.
“So...did it hurt?” He asked tentatively, his eyelids already becoming heavier by the second.
Through a squinted stare he saw Eleven smile shyly and shake her head.
“Are you sure?” Mike pressed further.
“Mike.” She said firmly, reaching to him and pulling herself closer to his side. “I'm very sure.”
Strangely enough, she issued forth her own query. “...Is it supposed to?”
Mike yawned, knowing then fully how exhausted he was; how fulfilled, and at peace. He embraced her more steadfastly, gently massaging her shoulder.
“I'm not sure...it's just what I heard.”
What mild tension cleared, on its own to no one's surprise, and the afterglow continued to soothe them into slumber.
As Mike's consciousness faded into the essence of softness, of tenderness, of all things that made life bearable, he could have sworn he caught sight of a stark white female dear innocently grazing upon a small patch of bright green grass, eclipsed by darkness, and reflected in the watery black surface beneath her.
While AFF and its agents attempt to remove all illegal works from the site as quickly and thoroughly as possible, there is always the possibility that some submissions may be overlooked or dismissed in error. The AFF system includes a rigorous and complex abuse control system in order to prevent improper use of the AFF service, and we hope that its deployment indicates a good-faith effort to eliminate any illegal material on the site in a fair and unbiased manner. This abuse control system is run in accordance with the strict guidelines specified above.
All works displayed here, whether pictorial or literary, are the property of their owners and not Adult-FanFiction.org. Opinions stated in profiles of users may not reflect the opinions or views of Adult-FanFiction.org or any of its owners, agents, or related entities.
Website Domain ©2002-2017 by Apollo. PHP scripting, CSS style sheets, Database layout & Original artwork ©2005-2017 C. Kennington. Restructured Database & Forum skins ©2007-2017 J. Salva. Images, coding, and any other potentially liftable content may not be used without express written permission from their respective creator(s). Thank you for visiting!
Powered by Fiction Portal 2.0
Modifications © Manta2g, DemonGoddess
Site Owner - Apollo