kink meme repost - lois/selina
Nov. 21st, 2010 06:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
txibiaSelina Kyle/Lois Lane, breathplay (prompt link)
"Look at you," Selina said. As she rose from between Lois's legs, licking the sticky taste and texture sex from her lips, Lois sagged back on the bathroom counter. She didn't close her legs; her skirt was pushed up to her waist, her shirt open, her chest heaving.
"Don't stop," Lois said hoarsely, struggling to sit up. Her panties were discarded on the floor and her hose rolled down to her ankles. "Fuck, don't stop -"
"Shut up," Selina said. Lightly, fondly, cupping Lois's cheek and kissing her, rubbing their faces together until Lois was nearly as wet and sticky as Selina. "Don't you ever shut up?"
Lois rolled her hips, seeking touch, and shook her head.
The profile would probably be called "Bad Girl Made Good" or "Second Acts: Charity Begins In the Hood": some kind of pun and reference to how well Selina has done for herself, despite origins both pitiable and unimaginable to Lane's comfortably bourgeois readers.
Yet Lois had not been all that interested in the community center's amenities or volunteer program or even Selina's (carefully edited) personal history.
Little Miss Uptight Career Girl wanted the full Gotham sleaze experience.
She hadn't said as much, but every question she asked during their day together told Selina *exactly* what she wanted. She may have been impeccably neat - crisp poplin shirt, pencil-thin skirt, smoky hose and deadly-yet-sensible heels - but her cheeks flushed easily and her breath came quickly at times.
It had been a matter of teasing her, dropping hints, getting a little too close, brushing a hand or breast, widening her eyes, throughout the day until dinner came. And then drinks, and the interview was long over; Lois accompanied her to one of the dead-boring fundraisers and Selina kept the white wine flowing.
Until now, finally, Selina had locked them in a second-floor powder room and pushed Lois up onto the counter, one hand on her tits, the other diving between her legs. Opened up, spread wide, exposed, Lois moaned and babbled and yanked at Selina's hair as Selina ate her out every bit as thoroughly and deeply as Lois had asked questions earlier. They were both probing each other - Lois intellectually, Selina with tongue and long fingers, teeth and face and more tongue.
Now, patting down Lois's hair, she helped the woman to her feet. Lois had been *maybe* a minute from coming - her channel had tilted and clenched around Selina's three fingers, she was creaming fast and breathing faster - and she was unsteady, disordered, swaying as Selina turned her around to face the mirror.
She slipped her hand between Lois's legs again, from back to front this time, down her ass crack (wet and tacky from all the juice and spit), and spread her buttocks to tease her hole.
Lois grunted and pushed back, then froze.
"Touch yourself," Selina told her, her teeth Lois's neck, her other hand weighing one breast and tweaking the nipple. "Don't close your eyes."
Lois bucked, staggered, and bit her lip.
"Do it." Selina held still, the trembling, fragrant weight of Lois against her.
Her eyes drifted closed, then flew open, as Lois slid her hand over her mound.
"Good girl." Selina resumed her touching, thumb probing Lois's ass, two fingers teasing her vaginal hole.
Lois moaned and shook her head again. She rubbed herself with abandon, grinding her clit between finger and pelvic bone, her hips thrusting raggedly up as she leaned against Selina. She was red, and wet, and a fucking mess, knees bumping the cabinet under the sink, balance rocking in and out.
Selina slid her hand up Lois's chest, to the base of her throat, slotting the junction of thumb and fingers around that wiry neck. Lois's sweat flowed, her pulse thundered, and when Selina squeezed experimentally, Lois thrashed in her arms and swore dirtier than Selina, in all her experience, had rarely ever heard.
"Are you coming?" Selina asked and squeezed again.
Lois shook, shuddered. She rubbed herself harder, drew nails over her labia, fucked backward onto Selina's questing fingers.
When Selina squeezed down, biting Lois's ear, watching her shake and shimmy, eyes roll back and hips fuck every which way, she could feel her own wetness soaking her panties, sticking to her thighs. Lois's face went redder, brick walls, then angry stormy skies, as Selina choked her through three explosive orgasms. Her arms flung out, her head fell forward and smashed into the mirror, she jerked like a ragdoll and skittered like oil on a hot pan. She ejaculated, twice, the fluid running down Selina's arm to the elbow.
Selina eased the grip and listened appreciatively to the wheeze and grunt as Lois tried to breathe again. The noise was endearing - hoarse, ragged, experimental. She couldn't stand, so Selina gathered her up to sit on the counter again.
The color faded in blotches from Lois's face, slowly. The sweat was cold at her hairline, in the hollow of her throat. She touched there, the skin tender from Selina's grasp.
Selina rubbed herself lazily against Lois's knee. "Only way to shut you up, I guess."
"Fuck you," Lois said and leaned back, closing her eyes. She smacked Selina's hip, but the blow went wide.
"Look at you," Selina said. As she rose from between Lois's legs, licking the sticky taste and texture sex from her lips, Lois sagged back on the bathroom counter. She didn't close her legs; her skirt was pushed up to her waist, her shirt open, her chest heaving.
"Don't stop," Lois said hoarsely, struggling to sit up. Her panties were discarded on the floor and her hose rolled down to her ankles. "Fuck, don't stop -"
"Shut up," Selina said. Lightly, fondly, cupping Lois's cheek and kissing her, rubbing their faces together until Lois was nearly as wet and sticky as Selina. "Don't you ever shut up?"
Lois rolled her hips, seeking touch, and shook her head.
The profile would probably be called "Bad Girl Made Good" or "Second Acts: Charity Begins In the Hood": some kind of pun and reference to how well Selina has done for herself, despite origins both pitiable and unimaginable to Lane's comfortably bourgeois readers.
Yet Lois had not been all that interested in the community center's amenities or volunteer program or even Selina's (carefully edited) personal history.
Little Miss Uptight Career Girl wanted the full Gotham sleaze experience.
She hadn't said as much, but every question she asked during their day together told Selina *exactly* what she wanted. She may have been impeccably neat - crisp poplin shirt, pencil-thin skirt, smoky hose and deadly-yet-sensible heels - but her cheeks flushed easily and her breath came quickly at times.
It had been a matter of teasing her, dropping hints, getting a little too close, brushing a hand or breast, widening her eyes, throughout the day until dinner came. And then drinks, and the interview was long over; Lois accompanied her to one of the dead-boring fundraisers and Selina kept the white wine flowing.
Until now, finally, Selina had locked them in a second-floor powder room and pushed Lois up onto the counter, one hand on her tits, the other diving between her legs. Opened up, spread wide, exposed, Lois moaned and babbled and yanked at Selina's hair as Selina ate her out every bit as thoroughly and deeply as Lois had asked questions earlier. They were both probing each other - Lois intellectually, Selina with tongue and long fingers, teeth and face and more tongue.
Now, patting down Lois's hair, she helped the woman to her feet. Lois had been *maybe* a minute from coming - her channel had tilted and clenched around Selina's three fingers, she was creaming fast and breathing faster - and she was unsteady, disordered, swaying as Selina turned her around to face the mirror.
She slipped her hand between Lois's legs again, from back to front this time, down her ass crack (wet and tacky from all the juice and spit), and spread her buttocks to tease her hole.
Lois grunted and pushed back, then froze.
"Touch yourself," Selina told her, her teeth Lois's neck, her other hand weighing one breast and tweaking the nipple. "Don't close your eyes."
Lois bucked, staggered, and bit her lip.
"Do it." Selina held still, the trembling, fragrant weight of Lois against her.
Her eyes drifted closed, then flew open, as Lois slid her hand over her mound.
"Good girl." Selina resumed her touching, thumb probing Lois's ass, two fingers teasing her vaginal hole.
Lois moaned and shook her head again. She rubbed herself with abandon, grinding her clit between finger and pelvic bone, her hips thrusting raggedly up as she leaned against Selina. She was red, and wet, and a fucking mess, knees bumping the cabinet under the sink, balance rocking in and out.
Selina slid her hand up Lois's chest, to the base of her throat, slotting the junction of thumb and fingers around that wiry neck. Lois's sweat flowed, her pulse thundered, and when Selina squeezed experimentally, Lois thrashed in her arms and swore dirtier than Selina, in all her experience, had rarely ever heard.
"Are you coming?" Selina asked and squeezed again.
Lois shook, shuddered. She rubbed herself harder, drew nails over her labia, fucked backward onto Selina's questing fingers.
When Selina squeezed down, biting Lois's ear, watching her shake and shimmy, eyes roll back and hips fuck every which way, she could feel her own wetness soaking her panties, sticking to her thighs. Lois's face went redder, brick walls, then angry stormy skies, as Selina choked her through three explosive orgasms. Her arms flung out, her head fell forward and smashed into the mirror, she jerked like a ragdoll and skittered like oil on a hot pan. She ejaculated, twice, the fluid running down Selina's arm to the elbow.
Selina eased the grip and listened appreciatively to the wheeze and grunt as Lois tried to breathe again. The noise was endearing - hoarse, ragged, experimental. She couldn't stand, so Selina gathered her up to sit on the counter again.
The color faded in blotches from Lois's face, slowly. The sweat was cold at her hairline, in the hollow of her throat. She touched there, the skin tender from Selina's grasp.
Selina rubbed herself lazily against Lois's knee. "Only way to shut you up, I guess."
"Fuck you," Lois said and leaned back, closing her eyes. She smacked Selina's hip, but the blow went wide.