I'm Your Man | By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 672 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series, and I make no money from this. The End. |
I’m Your Man
Author: Pepperstasia Beaverhausen
Rating: All that NC-17, yo
Categories: MRR, Ryan POV, Super Smut
Spoilers: “Quilt of Hathor” 1 & 2, continuation of “Sugar Walls”
Author’s Notes & the Disclaimer: They’re not mine, y’all. Micki and Ryan (and Jack) belong to Paramount, Frank (da) Mancuso, Jr. and all that sech. I make no money from this. It ain’t happening. So anyhoover, this story picks up where “Sugar Walls” left off, but from Ryan’s point of view. Now that I’ve broken that pesky writer’s block, I felt it would be nice to get his perspective. Let’s dive into this dirty little missive headfirst, friends. Clickety-clow.
“If you want a lover, I’ll do anything you ask me to/And if you want another kind of lover, I’ll wear a mask for you…” -Leonard Cohen, “I’m Your Man”
Micki’s room is slowly flooding with early morning light as I rouse from my slumber. The silkiest of skin is bathing my front as I clutch onto a perfect breast with my right hand and bury my nose into soft red curls. I feel like I’m still dreaming. Did this actually happen? Am I truly spooning Micki Foster naked in her bed? Did we *really* just spend the night together?
I try to run recent events through my head. We have just come back home from the Penitites. I almost gave up my mission to live with them. Laura. I don’t know why, but something about being with her and living in her simple life appealed to me. Sure, she was beautiful and pure, and it seemed like there was a mutual affection there. Plus, the idea of just living and contributing to such an isolated way of being seemed inviting. I saw it as a way out. Considering the alternative, my home life is unswervingly complicated. Micki and I are always fighting evil, and it’s hard work combating the Devil. Then there are my feelings for her, which are the most complicated of all. I can’t help but love her. I don’t know when I figured it out, but it was early on in our artifact hunting days, certainly. I mean, I’ve always been attracted to her. Her beauty is undeniable. *And* she never wears a bra. I mean, Jesus. I’m not made of stone. Her body was made from the angels. And her face; I go mad with tenderness at the sight of her face, to quote Nabokov. She’s knock-you-down gorgeous.
Until last night, she seemed unattainable. I figured that being her best friend was probably the most I would be able to grasp, relationship wise.
Then she asked me out.
In fact, she made all of the first moves last night. I didn’t have to do a damn thing. I just had to be there. Needless to say, *there* was amazing. I still can’t believe it happened, honestly. Am I really the lucky bastard that’s in Micki’s bed right now? Did I just dance my ass off with her last night on a *real-fucking-date* and come back home to have mind melting sex on my bed? Even though the evidence of her sweet-smelling hair and impossibly soft skin tell me it’s true, I’m still utterly flabbergasted. My happiness shoots through the roof when I slide my hand on her breast down to her nest of curls and find a pleasing wetness that brings me to reality.
We really did do this.
The kicker for me is that she initiated this whole thing. Do I dare think that she feels the same way that I do? What a wonder that would be.
The only caveat that I have is that I wish I would have lasted a little longer last night. She just felt too astonishing. Her body is like a miracle and I was elated to be inside. But I was only able to last through one position, and honestly, on my cot there aren’t a lot of positions you can try without it getting uncomfortable. Not that I’ve really had anyone besides Micki in that bed, but I’d imagine that it would be tricky. Good fuckin saints, I love her. She is all the goodness in the world, personified. And fucking sexy, to boot.
She shifts slightly in my arms as my middle finger circles her clitoris. Sweet Jesus, she’s wet. Amazingly wet. My cock hardens against her bottom and I find myself kissing the ball of her shoulder, submerged in her sweet scent. She’s like honey. I realize it’s Sunday and my joy knows no boundaries. I have an entire day to explore Micki Foster. I praise not being open on Sundays. I have this clawing need to make up for last night. I *know* I can do better.
Micki moans, breathing out, “Good morning, Ryan.” Good. She’s awake.
I kiss my way up her neck, “Morning, Micki.” I find her earlobe and nip it with my teeth, moving my finger just a little faster. Her hips writhe and it’s glorious. I can’t believe that I am able to do this to her. She gasps a little bit as I think I’ve hit a spot she likes, and I focus on repeating the action. My lips move back down to kissing the side of her neck and I revel in the feeling of her clitoris swelling against my finger and the sensational wetness that follows.
She cries out “Ryan!” and my pride swells. Holy shit. That actually just happened. My finger keeps moving until I’m sure that her orgasm has subsided, gradually slowing to a stop and moving back up to rest on a beautiful breast. “Thank you.” She breathes out, “That was a really nice way to wake up.”
My mouth breaks away from her neck when she shifts in my arms to face me. Her beauty causes an ache in me that stomps all over my heart. Helen of Troy has nothing on Micki. She’s brutal. “I aim to please.” I croak out in sleep-fogged vocal chords.
Micki’s arms circle my neck and her hands twine into my hair, “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re really cute when you just wake up?” she smiles lazily at me.
I shake my head, “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re insanely gorgeous when you just wake up?” I counter, because she is. My god.
Apparently, she likes this, because she gifts me with a soul branding kiss. This is unbelievable. The morning after experience is proving to be just as exciting as last night was. I respond with as much passion, and dare I say, love, as I can allow, my hands exploring the satiny skin of her glorious body. She’s genius. “Do you realize what today is?” I ask her, masking my glee.
The light dawns on her exquisite face, “It’s Sunday.” The smile that spreads on her visage is almost as beautiful as she is.
I have to kiss her again. Once I have been approved entry, it’s impossible to back off. It doesn’t seem like she wants me to, at any rate. Her kisses are something else entirely. The most pleasant feeling I’ve ever experienced comes over me when her tongue slides against mine. Euphoric doesn’t even quite cut it. This one is especially nice. And it’s lasting quite a while. If I could wake up like this every morning I would die a happy man. My hands rove from her back down to her perfect little bottom and give it a squeeze, and Micki gasps out in our kiss. She responds to this by grinding into my stiff-with-morning-wood member with her magnificently wet vagina and a shockwave goes through my body. Hot Damn.
I still can’t believe this is happening. Please never wake me up.
What’s even more incredible is when she grasps my cock and slides it against her in an aching slowness that thrills me and also gives me an idea. I have an urge to be able to take all of her in. I need to take this slow. Really explore all of her. I kiss up her face and bestow a kiss on each eyelid, just enveloping myself in her. She is my miracle, and I will work myself ragged to prove I am good enough to be in her presence. I kiss down the side of her face to her neck and down toward her right breast. I’m taking my time, though. We have all day. Hallelujah.
She’s still sliding against me as I reach a delicious rosebud nipple and begin nipping at it with my teeth, then just giving in and suckling at it with a slowness that matches what she’s doing. I literally feel high on her, in every sense. Although Micki is undoubtedly better than any drug. My body is crying out to be inside her but I stick to my task at hand. My mouth moves languidly to her other breast and repeats business. I just love the way she tastes. Hell, taste, smell, everything about her. I am ensconced in her gloriousness. The wetness grinding into my cock doubles as I suckle, laving her nipple in my mouth with my tongue and rejoicing in her little moans.
Our groins break contact as I move further south, slowly kissing every inch of her. I am exploring holy lands and I am reverent. I take a little extra time on her hipbones and the area around her cute little bellybutton. I kiss up and down each leg, saving the place I really want to explore for last. Her breathing is labored, hitched, and heavy. I french-kiss her inner right thigh and she shudders, her entire body vibrating beautifully. My lips move snail-like north and I stop to breathe her in when I get there. Just taking in the wonder that is her.
She is just out-fucking-standing. My god, she tastes so sweet. Just delicious. She lets out a loud moan signaling her approval. I reach up her body to fondle a breast as I slowly kiss at her folds before focusing my main efforts on her clitoris, maintaining an achingly slow pace while applying a passionate pressure that I hope transmits how I feel about all of this. My thumb and forefinger pinch her nipple as I continue to focus my attentions south, sipping from her fountain of desire. I just love how wet she gets. I almost couldn’t believe it last night. Then again, that whole experience seemed like a dream, right down to doing it on my cot.
I suck her clitoris into my mouth, applying continual pressure with my tongue and her panting becomes staccato. I glance up at her in wonder. The woman is gleaming in the morning light, grasping at the bedsheets and arching her back at what I am doing to her. I continue with a certain sort of relish. This is me, doing this to her, making this goddess writhe under my ministrations. My suction becomes gradually stronger as I keep pinching her nipple with one hand and grasp her hip with the other to maintain control. The way her hips are moving, I could quickly lose focus on what I’m doing. I am on a mission to please here. There’s no way that I am straying from my goal. She cries out and I feel a gush surge against my face as she comes, slipping a hand into my hair and tugging a little as she rides her orgasm to completion. I repeat: She is a goddamned miracle.
As she shudders, I trail my mouth to her left inner thigh and suck on the satiny flesh there, and she moans again, “Ryan, get up here.” She pleads, her voice conveying orgasmic lassitude. I kiss my way back up her body, mouth sucking on the soft skin of her neck until I reach her face. Gorgeous just doesn’t seem like strong enough of a word for her right now. Just wow. Her eyes are glowing as she wipes my face and kisses my nose. “That was amazing,” she tells me with a lopsided smile blended with a face that reads desire. *She* is desire.
“I am nowhere near close to done with you, woman.” I tell her, stroking her cheek with my thumb, “We have all day. I am going to use my time wisely.”
I kiss her to underline my meaning and find her legs circling my waist as I hover over her. I fall to the left side of her so we’re facing each other with her creamy thighs anchored on my waist. My arms grip her back and bring her closer to me so our chests are pressed against one another. The feeling of her breasts naked on my chest is heavenly. Just like her. My cock rubs against her opening and the sensation is enough to drive me apeshit. My need for her has reached peak levels. Her hips gyrate against me in slow circles, feeling so outstanding that I can’t help but deepen our kiss.
“Please,” she moans against my lips, “Mmm, Ryan. In me, now.” She demands.
I figure it should be alright to give in. The tip of my cock finds her opening and I begin to push my way slowly in, inch by insanely-good inch. We both hiss in satisfaction at the sensation. I have found Utopia, and it is inside Micki Foster, the most perfect woman that is and will ever be. Her walls squeeze at my cock once I’m all the way in and it’s so good I could black out. I begin to move my hips in a languid pace as her hips gyrate in miniscule circles against mine, thrusting deep and hard into her on the downstroke and establishing a rhythm to make sure this will last. I can’t help but want to take my time with her. This kind of euphoria you never want to end. I lean her back a little, allowing for a slightly deeper angle as I kiss down her neck and chest to suckle on her right nipple, continuing to thrust into her heaven. There are no words that could ever truly describe how good she feels. Waves of pleasure threaten me as her body tenses up and her inner walls seem to vibrate around me. I can’t believe she’s coming already. Her wetness bathes my groin as she cries out, making me feel like I just came up with the cure for cancer. I can’t allow myself to come yet, though. As good as it would be, I’m not done yet.
I kiss my way back up to her mouth, engaging in another lip lock that I hope authenticates my passion for her. I roll us slightly over so that I am back on top of her and her hips keep moving in maddening slow circles against mine as I gradually double my pace. Jesus, she’s going to take me out quick if she keeps doing that. But it is magnificent, what she’s doing to me. I decide to take a little more control of the situation at hand and move her legs that are around my waist so that an ankle is resting on each of my shoulders, raising up a little on my knees to begin thrusting into her this way. My god, she’s like a vice-grip around me; a soft, wet, delectable vice-grip. My fingers dig into her hips and I look down at her, flushed faced and exquisite, breasts moving hypnotically with each stroke. The fire inside me keeps burning, having been ignited the second I woke up next to her this morning. It would be so easy to just give in. I know I’m close. I lean down, her ankles sliding over my shoulders to rest on my back as my chest connects to the backs of her thighs, slowing my pace back down and engaging her in another kiss as I give a languid, deliberate thrust. Her hands grab fistfuls of hair on the back of my head as I suck on her bottom lip. Oh my sweet Jesus, she feels so marvelous in this position. I allow myself to pick up the pace slightly as her hands move from my hair to cup my face in her hands, kissing it all over with her pleasantly soft lips.
It still just blows my mind that we’re doing this.
She starts vibrating again and closes her mouth over mine, sucking my tongue with such intent that I can’t deny that she’s actually coming again. I let my strokes gain in speed, feeling the fire become an inferno throughout my entire being. I give in and let myself go, my orgasm washing over my entire body in waves as she shudders under me. “Fuck, Micki!” I yell out as my vision goes slightly black, still thrusting as I ride this pleasure wave to the finish line. I bury my face into her neck and hair as my movements slow down to a stop, breath ragged and heavy.
My word, that was incredible. Is she always going to be like this?
“Mmmm, so gooood.” She purrs into my ear, nipping at the lobe a little.
“You ain’t just whistling Dixie.” I respond, raising my head to meet her face again and grazing my lips with hers. “Possibly the best Sunday morning experience that I’ve ever had.”
“Mine too.” She whispers back, giving me a sweet, sensual kiss that adds nicely to the aftershock of my orgasm.
I reluctantly slip out of her, land on her left side post kiss, and settle my back onto the mattress. Micki takes this opportunity to drape her body across mine, legs sliding against one another as she rests her head against my chest. I let out a contented sigh, “Hooooly shit.” I breathe out.
She laughs into the plane of my chest, “You’re not the one who came four times this morning. *Four*.” She repeats between giggles.
“You are so worth it. And we’ve only just begun to start.” I say softly, fondling the soft curls on the back of her head.
She kisses her way up my chest, taking *her* time to trail up my neck to my mouth, and now she’s softly brushing her lips back and forth with mine. My right hand moves to cradle the side of her face. This moment is strangely beautiful. My love for her reaches the vast unknowns of the universe. “Did you know that I could write an epic poem about your face?” I utter into her lips.
She shakes her head, still grazing lips, “Did you know that I have occasional urges to lick your dimples?” she counters lowly, lips fully connecting with mine as I break into a smile. “See, there they are.” She says, kissing her way to my cheek and licking one, “Yummy.”
God-damn, this lady is a gift from Heaven.
“How long have you had this fetish?” I ask her, chuckling a bit.
“At least a couple of months,” she admits, “They’re just so cute when you smile.” She kisses her way across my face to the other one and gives it a little lick, and I just melt into the goddamned mattress.
Did she really just say that she’s had these kinds of feelings for *months* now? I’ll admit, we have gotten a lot closer with each other the longer we cohabitate and engage in our cursed artifact hunting business, but I have to wonder how deep her feelings go. Is this just physical for her, or something more?
For me, it’s definitely something more. I am so in love with her my body aches, and not just from this morning’s exercises. I tried to forget myself with Laura, and escape the love for Micki that tears at me, clawing at my heart and leaving slashing wounds of want.
But what do you know. My wounds are healing because this amazing goddess of a woman is snuggling with me post coital and bathing me in her affection. I’ve gone over the moon and past Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, even. The unattainable: attained.
Maybe sometimes fighting evil does get the reward, especially if it’s as good as she is. “So, what do you want to do today? Besides stay in bed a good long while, that is.” I ask her as she kisses down my chin.
“Mmm, well, we should probably tidy up our clothes mess in the kitchenette from last night,” she comments into my neck, “And we have cereal for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and we can order pizza for dinner. I feel like staying in and I’d rather not get dressed.”
One of my hands strokes along her side and down her waist to her hip, “A lady with good ideas. Staying in it is.” I don’t think I could handle myself in public right now with Micki anyway. Not until I tame this burning inside for her that I am momentarily consumed with.
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