Room 505, Tuesday Late Afternoon

[thismaskiwear]

So one minute there'd been an attempt at actually, finally sucking it up, saying 'the hell with it,' and kissing Francine until she couldn't breathe as a prelude to other things that . . . would have a definite impact on breathing.

And then she'd been small, and fuzzy, with floppy ears, and NOT ADORABLE, DAMMIT.

Katchoo had been keeping up quite the mental rant about this in her head ever since it had happened, but being a bunny she couldn't exactly express it in her usual oh-so-charming way. Chewing on things, maybe, vented some of the frustration but she had a lot more of that built up than this tiny lapine form should have room to hold.

. . . that rant was still going, no matter how comfortable she was at the particular moment.

[OOC: For that girl. NOT YOU, RAVEN. ETA: This post might be kinda NWS now. WHAT?]

Comments

[thatsamilkshake]

Very staggery progress backwards by someone half a foot taller then the squirming clavicle-owner whose skin tasted like water and salt. Like most skin, but Francine didn't exactly have tons of comparisons under the belt she wasn't wearing. Or any sense of balance whatsoever, so you can see where this is going, right? Right. It's going backwards onto the nearest bed with a great windmilling of arms, but no broken noses.

Hopefully.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

No, no broken noses. A slight

whoof

! of air when Katchoo landed on top of her, but at least it wasn't the other way around?

This was not going to ruin the moment. Katchoo wouldn't let it.

"Hi there," she drawled instead, and yes, Francine, that would be Katchoo . . . maneuvering her thigh between yours.

[thatsamilkshake]

Her other first time had involved Emmett Cullen banging on a bathroom door and then at some point there was ripping required to get her out of spandex, and that hadn't ruined the mood.

Granted there was sex pollen involved that time, but this time there was a Katchoo on top of her, being very very warm and soft and kind of squishy and also -- "Hi, there" -- there was that thigh, there. So you know.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

"Hi." That word? Breathed just next to Francine's ear by the warm, soft, kind of squishy (despite being so scrawny) Katchoo on top of her, hands sliding slowly down Francine's sides and back up again because there were breasts, and she had hands that curved in just the right way to cup them.

That thigh might be applying the subtlest bit of pressure now. Just saying.

[thatsamilkshake]

And maybe it wasn't just Francine's face that got all flushed when stuff like this happened. Not that stuff like this had happened in a long damn time or depending how you looked at it, ever, but the point was... what was the point? Francine was shifting her leg and closing her eyes, and the point sort of escaped out the window, there. Something about breasts.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Breasts, or maybe Katchoo's mouth trailing a slow, wet path along the side of her neck.

Did there need to be a point? It seemed a little extraneous when you factored in mouths and hands and the steady, gentle rocking movement of Katchoo's leg.

[thatsamilkshake]

Point, what point? Maybe the point was how - nnnnnngh you can DO that? Why didn't I know you can do that? - steady Francine wasn't in response, hands clasping then sliding down Katchoo's back for a moment just to stop herself from turning rock into jerk.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

You knew now, Francine. That was the key part.

Unless the key part was Katchoo returning the favor about the clavicle thing, throwing in light nips with her teeth every now and then. It was a bit harder to keep her movements quite so steady when there were hands sliding down her back and wow, shivers up her spine.

[thatsamilkshake]

That part was contagious, which was weird considering how hot it was in here, or maybe that was just Francine having trouble with her thermostat. It seemed to think they were back in the West Indies again or something, requiring her to throw her head back just to find some air.

Or give better access to her clavicles. You decide. It's like a Choose Your Own Adventure!

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

How about both? Katchoo could go with both as an answer. After all, if Francine didn't need some air with what she was doing here, not to mention raking her nails lightly along the curve of Francine's side, she was doing it wrong.

[thatsamilkshake]

No. No, whatever it was, she was most certainly, definitely, Francine would swear on a stack of bibles and worry later about whether she was going to Hell for it, not doing it wrong.

Francine still had some vestige of wondering if she was, but it was mostly lodged in her brain-stem, nowhere near her vocal cords. Like, some part of her nervous system wondered if trying to wrap her leg around Katchoo's was helpful or not, but she was in no shape to actually ask.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

F$*k a stack of Bibles, Katchoo might say, and to hell with . . . uh, with the question of going to hell.

But that was all beside the point, wasn't it?

Besides, kissing a slow, deliberate trail down Francine's sternum, pausing every now and then to flick her tongue against bare skin then exhale a warm breath against the spot -- wasn't that an answer, or at least reassurance?

She certainly wasn't showing any intention of stopping.

[thatsamilkshake]

Both, it was both. Or at least it was enough to send Francine far enough out of her head that is this right/what should I be doing/oh godohgodohgod were swimming someplace a foot below her, like the thoughts belonged to somebody else.

Well, except for the "Oh godohgod" which kind of slipped out of her mouth, so she really did have to cop to that one.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

And don't think for a second that didn't make Katchoo, pausing with her lips against Francine's skin just below her breasts, smile.

She reached up for Francine's hand to lace their fingers together, and scraped her teeth gently against the spot she was kissing. It was like there wasn't an upper limit for physical contact here. She wanted as much of it as she could get.

The "Oh godohgod" was, by the way, entirely mutual. If only internal on Katchoo's end.

[thatsamilkshake]

Francine wrapped her fingers down tight - maybe a little too tight at first, but that might have something to do with the fact that she'd just discovered that drawing her own knee up a bit did really interesting things to that pressure from Katchoo's between her thighs.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Okay, maybe a little bit of ow, but Katchoo was taking it as a good sign.

She might also maybe, just maybe, be kissing a slightly less slow but definitely inexorable trail downward, over Francine's stomach, lingering a bit to see just which spots were the most sensitive.

[thatsamilkshake]

All of them? Francine would take All Of Them for 1000, Alex. She'd also take a breath and hold it, but relax her fingers so she wasn't crushing Katchoo's hand.

With her other hand, she reached to trail her fingers over Katchoo's hair, softly tracing the edge of one ear.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

She might need that hand eventually, so thanks, Francine.

Thanks, by way of -- oh, was that an elastic waistband Katchoo had in her teeth all of a sudden?

[thatsamilkshake]

Don't mention it, Katchoo.

Like really, don't mention it, because then you'd have to stop what you're doing and Francine would ... something. Would make a frustrated unhhh! sound instead of just inhaling again like she'd forgotten what oxygen tasted like.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

She could mention it, but she wasn't. Mentioning it wasn't half as appealing as giving a slow, suggestive tug on that waistband with her teeth, letting the fingers of her free hand trail just beneath it, and raking her nails across the skin there.

The mental drumbeat of ohmygodohmygodohmygod hadn't let up yet. In fact, it was only getting faster.

[thatsamilkshake]

That would be Francine's fingers getting a little less gentle again, right there. Not the ones in her hair; she didn't want to pull it. ...Not much? But the ones laced with Katchoo's were less laced and more needing to move, Francine's thumb bending in to rub at the warmth of Katchoo's palm.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

Right. The cloth of the underwear that elastic band was attached to was getting to be damn annoying now, all in the way like that. Katchoo let out a soft growl and hooked her fingers into it, tugging downward, covering Francine's skin with light kisses as she did.

The hand linked with Francine's flexed slightly, curving around to cup that thumb in her palm, and regrettably this was no longer a position that let her keep up that rocking motion with her thigh, but soon, hopefully -- she was resolutely squashing the tiny bit of lingering worry that Francine might have second thoughts -- there wouldn't be much to regret any more.

[thatsamilkshake]

If Francine was going to have second thoughts, they weren't happening now. She'd need to be able to have first thoughts...first.

Shift your ass, Peters wasn't really so much of a thought as a mostly involuntary nerve impulse that expressed itself a little rudely but got the job done, since it made the annoying cloth a little easier to tug down.

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

It did. Oh holy frikkin' god, yes, it did, and the sooner Katchoo could get the stupid thing out of her way the better and --

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod all over again, and she had to pause and rest her cheek against the inside of Francine's thigh and just remember to breathe.

[thatsamilkshake]

Okay, that other hand that had been doing something in Katchoo's hair? Francine had absolutely no idea where it was now. She had lost track of a limb. Because you know what happens when someone has their cheek resting against the inside of your thigh and remembers to breathe? Yeeeeah.

(For the record, it was hanging out in the vicinity of her left breast, happily doing its own thing, and really in no danger if she wanted to come back and pick it up later when she could concentrate better.)