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What's Your Fantasy	By : Beaverhausen13 Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th: The Series Views: 592 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th: The Series. I make no fundage from this, Bro Namath.

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What’s Your Fantasy?
Author: Pepperstasia Beaverhausen
Rating: Oh, you know it’s NC-17, B. With all that realness. For sex and substances, playas.
Categories: MRR, established relationship, Micki POV
Spoilers: Follow up to Glory Box, so obvi the eps around that story (Season 2, Eps 4, 5, 6) but also “Wax Magic” & “Read My Lips”, and since it’s a Micki POV, you know I’m gonna bring up Lloyd. Gross, I know, but that D-bag is integral.
Summary: Following a long weekend away from each other, Micki and Ryan act on a few latent, recently disclosed fantasies. Of that cray-cray sexual nature, natch.
Author’s Notes and the Disclaimer: So yeah, Micki, Ryan, and Jack aren’t mine; they belong to Williams, Mancuso, Jr., Paramount, all that ish, mayne. Anyhoover, I totally don’t get paid for this. And that’s all good in the hood, because I am still thoroughly enjoying myself. That’s worth more to me than the ends, anyway. So, I totes was not ready to give up the Glory Box universe just yet, and was jamming an OG Ludacris tune when that inspiration hit me and I started getting smutty ideas. So I fully blame Ludacris and all of his awesome for this one, my peoples. Alright, it’s time to sit back, brush that pimp dirt off your shoulders, and plunge in to this smut like you know y’ant to. As the mighty Rick James via Dave Chappelle said: “Enjoy yourselves.”

“I wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes
And I wanna move from the bed
Down to the, down to the, to the floor,
And I wanna (ah-ah) you make it so good I don’t wanna leave
But I gotta, kn-kn-kn-know
Wha-what’s Your Fanta-tasy?” ~Ludacris featuring Shawnna “What’s Your
Fantasy”

          “We just got started and now you’re leaving me?” Ryan whines behind me as I lean over my dressing table to obtain needed effects for my trip to pack in my makeup bag.
          I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. He’s so fucking adorable, especially when he pouts, “Ryan, the *very* last thing that I want to do now is leave you, but how was I to predict that we would figure out we were in love around the time of Quiara’s birthday? The Carleton-Foster sleepover weekend is a long-standing tradition. Evie and I have spent every birthday with Quiara since I was nine years old. Plus, I think Evie needs the support. She didn’t say outright, but it sounds like she’s having problems with Ben. They’re my sisters. I can’t say no.”
          His arms circle my waist and he buries his face in the side of my neck, “Mm, but I got us tickets to the carnival this weekend. What am I gonna do about that now?”
          He’s cutely distracting me from my task right now, but I can’t get mad at him. I have plenty of time before I have to be at the airport; I’m just trying to get a head start so I don’t forget anything. Quiara Carleton has always been an unpredictable character, to say the very least, so it’s best to be as prepared as possible, “Why don’t you just go anyway? You could ask your friend Sally. Or if push came to shove, you could even get Jack to go with you.”
          Ryan has started kissing across my shoulders, firing up tingles all over, “But I wanted to make out with you on the Ferris wheel. Are you sure you can’t stay?”
          “You make a very convincing case, but I can’t back out of tradition, Ryan. It wouldn’t be fair to Quiara. Or Evelyn, for that matter. Since she had J.B., the only way she’s really been able to have *her* time is when we have the Quiara birthday weekend.”
          God, I wish I could get out of this. It’s only been five days since Ryan and I admitted that we love each other and became official. Five immensely blissful, dizzying days. I don’t think I’ve ever been wrapped up in another person like I am with him. We’ve kept it subdued around Jack; we’re not really hiding what we are now, but keep the affection to ourselves. We save what we *really* want to do for our alone time. Needless to say, we’ve been keeping some pretty late nights.
          But I feel like we have some lost time to make up for. I’ve loved him for a while now, and then was driven crazy for a couple of confusing weeks when we began our sexual journey together on the night of my resurrection. A total lack of communication was our plague in those days, and unfortunately, we had to involve others in our dance. Ryan’s was an innocent victim of a cursed violin, and mine was a hideous murderer disguised as a movie star who tried to strangle me. He also had a cursed make-up case. Apparently, Ryan and I have become magnets for cursed objects now, we don’t even have to actively track them down anymore. The night Jack and Ryan brought me home from Evergreen Lake and those cabins with Amery, I was just lower than dirt. I felt like the man that I was in love with didn’t want me, and to add insult to injury, my rebound guy turned out to be a murderous psychopath. I couldn’t win. There was no hope for a happy love life in my future. So I broke down and told Ryan that I love him. And to my utter shock, he told me that he loves me right back. It’s been just amazing ever since that revelation.
          Then my sister Evelyn called me last night to remind me about birthday sleepover weekend at Quiara’s in L.A. Quiara Carleton first met the Foster sisters at Camp South Winds, a summer camp for privileged girls, way back when little Michelle 8, Evelyn 11, and Quiara 9, promised to be sisters together for life and maintained an enduring friendship in spite of the different stages of our lives. Evie and I are the only substitutes for siblings that Quiara knows. She’s an only child, an heiress to a Hotel chain fortune that spent a lonely childhood with nannies and jet setting parents that were never around. This weekend is the only constant that she knows. I couldn’t take it away from her.
          No matter how much I really want to.
          Ryan’s hand snakes up to fondle my right breast under the pink satin of my nightie, “I understand you can’t shuck tradition. But I’m going to go through withdrawals, just so you know.” He says lowly in my ear, teasing it with his lips.
          Fully distracted now, my hands reach behind me to run down the front of his hips and thighs over his boxers, “Like I won’t?” I counter with a small laugh, leaning my back into his chest as he starts kissing my neck again.
I feel his hands leave my body temporarily, but glance up and notice him pushing off his boxers in the mirror, then feel him gripping my hips and shoving himself inside. Ahh, goddamn that feels incredible. There’s just nothing else in the universe as good as the feeling of him. I grip the edge of my dressing table and arch back into him, getting incredibly turned on by the sight of him fucking me in the mirror. He’s so *feral* when we have sex. It’s been quite the thrilling surprise.
And yes, I absolutely quit wearing underwear now that Ryan and I are together. He has this delicious habit of destroying them, you see, so I figured it’s better not to be wasteful. It’s also convenient for instances like this. He’s pushing into me in a rough, moderate pace, but now he’s moving his lips from my neck and raising up to full standing in order to pick up his pace. It doesn’t take much of that before I’m coming, those warm, electric waves making me shudder as I grind my hips into his behind me. My sight leaves me and I feel his pace accelerate as he groans, “You are so fucking gorgeous when you come. Fuck.”
I don’t even get my vision back before another blinding orgasm hits me due to that. Sweet merciful Jesus. This is going to be the longest four days of my life, having to be away from him, from this. He has such an intense effect on me bodily that it’s rather drugging. Especially since he has started slamming harder and drives me into another immediate orgasm. I’m just quivering onto him, tightening my grip and pushing back with the last bit of consciousness that I’m retaining right now in this pleasure fog I’m hovering in. It still just blows my mind how phenomenal he is at this. And he was living under my nose for over a year before I really got to find out.
Thank God I got to find out.
This kind of blinding pleasure is absolutely worth dying and being resurrected for. I love him so much I literally can’t see straight. Being away from him is going to be excruciating. Well, it’s going to be rough, at the very least. Je-sus, his stamina just constantly amazes me. I come about a million times before he finally does, clamping his lips together to subdue his growl as he gives a few hard shoves, shaking and swelling inside of me. I’ve also been quelling my moans by pressing my mouth closed and moving the noise to the back of my throat. It’s earlier in the morning still, but we do live with Jack. And we respect him enough not to be blatant about this. About us. Ryan kisses his way up my back as I shiver against him, sliding his hands from my hips to my stomach under my nightgown as he slips out of me. His lips reach my neck and he bites gently before soothing the area with a kiss, “I’m going to miss you so fucking much.” He breathes into my skin.
I spin around and attack him with a kiss. My fucking lord, I love the way he kisses me. It completely dizzies me. My knees go weak and the whole nine. Another unexpected surprise about him, that I was just ecstatic to discover. I’ve got one hand on his cheek and the other is gripping the hair on the back of his head as our tongues dance together urgently. “I’m going to miss *you*. Terribly.”
His arms wrap around me tightly in a hug and he supplies me with another short but passionate kiss, “Then don’t go.”
I laugh a little at his persistence, “You know I can’t do that. If I go back on my word, what kind of person am I? I wouldn’t even know myself anymore. I wish I could just take you with me, but boys are not allowed in Quiara’s birthday weekend. Plus, one of us needs to keep an eye on the store.”
He sighs, resigned. “I know. You’re a good person, one of the many reasons why I love you, and we’ve got a responsibility here that’s bigger than we are. Hmmm, allow me to ruminate on being surrounded by three beautiful rich girls for four days, though. Sounds amazing.”
Men. I laugh loudly and pinch his ass, “Allowed. It’s the least I can do since I’m forced to leave. However, Quiara would eat you alive. So would Evie, for that matter.”
“You don’t think I could handle myself?” He teases me, pinching my ass with a dimpled grin spreading across his face.
I jump a little, “You might. Just letting you know that my sisters are a bit on the wild side. I’m dreadfully tame by comparison.”
“Tame is never the word I would use to describe you. So, you’re the lone good girl, then, out of you three musketeers?” He’s kissing me again and I have to hang on to his shoulders because the weakness has commenced in my knees.
I manage to nod in response, “Always have been. Quiara and Evie love to give me a hard time about it; but it’s my natural inclination. Evelyn was always the wild child out of the Foster girls when we were growing up. Quiara started as my friend at first, but she and Evie bonded over their shared proclivity for breaking the rules. They’ve dragged me kicking and screaming into a plethora of shenanigans.” I explain between kisses, though how I’m even able to do that I’ll never know. He’s just so addictive.
“You’ll have to tell me about these shenanigans someday. I’m already aroused; full disclosure. But I need to give you a proper goodbye. That just now can’t be it.” As he’s saying this, he grips me by my thighs and hoists me up, carrying me back to the bed.
Amazing. His bounce back ability also has me stunned. He’s just all-around *so fucking good* at this. I’m deliriously happy. How am I going to survive four whole days without him? This is going to be torture.
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What's Your Fantasy