If she ever feels the need to test out what it would be like to give him head, he will be more than willing to be her guinea pig. More than willing. But maybe in a minute, because he's kind of busy here.
His arm snakes around her hip and pins her down — not that he's under any real illusions of being stronger than her, but still, the reminder might help keep her still while he works her over — and Hercules is reminded just why he likes doing this so much. Sure, it's been a few long years since he's been down in this area of a woman's body, but it's not like this is a skill you really forget. And when she had been alive, his wife had been very detailed in her instruction of how he should please her, so he's kind of got this down.
He alternates between long strokes with the flat of his tongue and teasing little flicks with the tip, humming happily when she groans and her hips twitch like she wants to move.
Oh, she does feel the need -- but, yes. Later. She is so not going to be interrupting him. Not in the middle of this -- hell, maybe not ever again.
Gipsy is going to end up screaming -- she knows it. And, it's not going to be like any other scream she may have ever thought or felt or heard. This was going to be entirely different and so, so much better.
Pleasure rakes through her body and it's like a rising tide; it's slow, excruciatingly so, and overwhelming, too. It's like a wave is crashing through her instead of over her, each flick of his tongue sending cognitive messages to what passes for her brain in steady, heart pounding pulses.
She tastes slightly...different from what he remembers. Not bad, just a little unusual. He supposes it's because she's synthetic, but even so, the illusion is damn good. If he didn't know she was man-made, he might be able to write it off as diet or just a quirk of her body.
As it is, he kind of likes it. Not that he particularly enjoys the taste of synthetic lubricant — at least, not yet — but she's just slightly different from every other woman he's been with, and that makes her special, as cliche as it sounds. Gipsy isn't just any woman, and he likes to be reminded of that, as often as possible.
Her hips keep moving in little aborted twitchy movements, and Herc applies himself to his task with greater fervor. It stands to reason that a body as unstimulated as hers would react quickly to anything he does, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't incredibly hot to realize how quickly she was winding up.
Gipsy has never had anything this physically intimate done to her. Not ever. To be experiencing it with him and in this magnitude is driving her completely mad. It is, quite honestly, the best thing that has happened to her in her relatively short life this far.
She's trying not to lose it too fast -- she wants this to last, and wants to carve a place in her memory out for this first time with him. She wants to remember this, how it felt and how easily he took to her, like they were meant to be together in every way, not just as jaeger and pilot.
Her breathing is beginning to come in much shorter intervals now and sensations shoot throughout her entire body and she trembles underneath him, body shaking with every pass.
He starts to murmur against her between licks, little broken-off encouragements as she squirms and wiggles beneath him, his hand on her belly stroking in absent reassurance as he really goes to town.
He probably should have shaved before doing this, but for some reason, the idea of stopping what he was doing to go to the bathroom and razor off his semi-permanent beard is not a very appealing one. Gipsy doesn't seem to mind the scrape of his stubble very much, at least, if the way her hips shift against his face is any indication. So, y'know, he's just going to find a way to deal, somehow.
(What a joke. He wants to do this to her every day, clean-shaven or not.)
He can't really hear her breathing shorten over the buzzing in his own ears, and doesn't try to fight the urge to press his hips down into the mattress as he licks into her, seemingly willing to stay down there for hours. Or minutes. Or however long it takes her to lose control and let go.
He murmurs encouragement and Gipsy groans his name as climax slowly starts to creep up on her. It's minutes that he's at work -- maybe five, tops -- because for someone as sexually inexperienced as Gipsy, it's impossible to hold out any longer.
She finds release in a typhoon of sensations, each wave more intense and fucking mind blowing than the last. Heart slamming in her chest, Gipsy looses an indecipherable utterance that is probably some kind of jaeger swear as she finally loses control.
For some people, being quick to come is a failing, but goddamn, Herc thinks this is awesome.
He can't even understand the words coming out of her mouth right now, and he would laugh about that if his mouth wasn't so busy, and all he can do is close his eyes and latch his lips onto her and not let her writhing dislodge him.
It's only when she slumps, exhausted, back against the bed does he let up, lapping at her to gentle her through the last of her aftershocks, marveling at how perfect her body is, how beautifully she reacts to him.
"Christ, love, you're incredible," he murmurs, sounding a little drunk off his arousal, trailing sticky lips up her belly as he crawls back up the length of her body to bury his face in the crook of her neck.
It's not just swearing, either -- it's one of those embarrassingly loud exclamations of pleasure that she is going to be mortified about later because do people really make those sounds?
Either way, he's left her spent and panting on the bed, body twitching and shaking when he brings her down from it. She gropes for him, wanting to feel his heat against her hands again and when he comes back she pulls him in tight, a breathless laugh her only response at first.
She's clumsy in the aftermath, flushed and panting and trembling a little even now, and Hercules feels his heart swell with a painful kind of fondness for this beautiful creature.
He brushes reverent little kisses over her skin, stroking her hair as he makes his way to her lips.
She'd argue that no, it's definitely him because didn't he just make her nearly scream in pleasure? But arguing isn't on the agenda for the day -- more kissing is. A lot more kissing, actually.
Gipsy's hands find his face against and she experiments a little, teeth coming down gently on his lower lip, similar to what he'd done to her much earlier. She's curious if his reaction will be anything like hers was because she really, really hops it is. He did her such a service already, and she'd like to return the favor in any way she can.
She bites him and he rumbles in response, a pleased little noise reverberating in his chest as he uses his body to press her down into his mattress, his still-clothed hips pushing against hers. He had managed to mostly forget the plight of his poor, ignored cock, but the break in festivities has let its clamoring come back front and center in his mind, and he can't help himself from rubbing a little against the top of her thigh.
It becomes kind of a game of trial and error - what makes him happy, what is only mediocre, and what makes him roll his hips against her to remind her of that particular piece of anatomy that she'd pushed him to discuss all that time ago.
Gipsy isn't any expert on men and women and human nature, but she remembers the look on his face when the girl in his memories touched, licked and sucked him. It's a vivid thing for her and it sparks that irritating twinge of jealousy again in Gipsy's core. It makes her hold him to her a little more possessively, her kiss turning a little more demanding.
It's time to do something about those pants -- he's had them on for far too long.
"Help me get these off," she growls, breaking the kiss long enough to say that, and snake her hand down between them to slide against his hardness. "I need the rest of you, Hercules Hansen."
Everything makes him happy, as long as it's coming at the hands of his sweet Gipsy Danger.
Something in her head suddenly ups her determination, if the way she touches him is any indication, her arms around him tightening, her lips pressing harder against his. He wonders what it is, and hopes he'll be able to remember to ask her, later. The way her mind works is a fascinating thing, for sure.
He groans when she slides her palm over the front of his slacks, her hand sure and firm against his dick, and he's only too happy to help her rip the offending clothing off him. It's rather undignified, but sooner or later he gets them off, yanking them down and off his legs, leaving him in just as naked a state as her.
His pants are (finally) kicked to the wayside and Gipsy smiles; a brilliant flash of white teeth contrasting against plush, pink lips.
"Much," she says happily, hand snaking right back down to take him in her hand, fingers tracing over his length. "Much, much better."
Exactly what she's been aiming for since the beginning, actually. She savors the feel of his skin against her hand, and she's not shy about wrapping her fingers around him, testing him a little as she swipes her hand up then down, eyes fixed on his face.
Her fingers close around him and he lets out a quiet, shuddering sigh, licking his lips because oh man, he's almost forgotten how good it feels to have someone else touching him.
It would be better if—
"Here, love," he murmurs, plucking her hand off him and pulling it up to his mouth so he can lick her palm slowly, curling his tongue around her fingers as he watches her with hooded eyes. "Now try."
She's surprised he's stopping her, but she'd told him he had the floor, so she lets him pull her hand up, and--
and...
well.
If his goal was to make her hunger for him quadruple, then he's outdone himself. The heat of his tongue curling around her fingers has Gipsy licking her own lips, pupils dilating as she focuses on him, the rest of the room fading to a distant and insignificant blur.
Eyes never leaving his, she follows his instructions, moving her hand back down to try again.
She forgets he's been around this old track a few times, he's picked up more than one trick for how best to make his partner's blood race.
God the look she's giving him. If he were a younger man, a less patient man, he'd tip her over and bury himself in her and just go to town, racing until he fell to completion without thought or care. But he's not that young any more and he's very patient, in the grand scheme of things, so he just rolls himself onto his back and pulls her with him, settles his hand on her hip and watches her watch him as her hand curls around him once more.
It's borderline predatory, that look in her eyes, though she doesn't act on it. Not quite yet. Instead, she lets him flip them until she's settled there with her hand around him, lips pulling into a coy smile.
"I am glad you approve, Hercules Hansen."
She leans over to give him a soft kiss before pulling away, nibbling down his neck to his chest in a very similar fashion to what he'd done to her earlier. Her lips drop heated, damp and sucking kisses along his skin, lips pausing to linger over and adore slightly raised scar tissue before resuming her trek downwards.
Her hands grip his hips as she nudges his knees apart, settling there between them, a slightly triumphant look on her face that he will in no way understand.
She mirrors what he did to her earlier, an almost perfect imitation that has him smiling helplessly, his hand lifting to stroke over her hair as she makes her way across his chest, her lips soft and warm when she presses them to his freckles and his scars alike. She's so careful with him, like he could break at any second — he assumes, to someone who remembers the titanic strength of a Jaeger, he really is fragile — and it makes him feel so very fond of her.
Finally reaching her goal, Gipsy holds him down as she shoulders in between his legs, a strangely triumphant look on her face that he can't even parse at the moment.
What on earth is going through her head right now?
She won't tell unless he asks, because that's hardly an appropriate conversation topic at the moment. She has other things that she could be doing with her mouth right now - like giving him a firm lick before leaning over to encase him in her wet, warm mouth.
From there, it's rudimentary -- instinct drives her, along with memory (his, specifically). Because she knows how he was feeling at the time and she was able to watch, she knows where and how to make it better, hotter, and how to make him harder.
She wants him feeling like he's going to rupture something by the end of it.
God, either she's a phenomenally quick learner, or she's got a perfect memory, because she doesn't even hesitate before she ducks down and takes him into her mouth, her warm, wet, perfect mouth.
He maybe mumbles something about keeping her teeth covered as she draws him deeper, but he has no idea if he actually said it or not because she's kind of short-circuiting his brain right now, and he's powerless to stop her. He can't even think about the logistics of all this; what her tongue is made out of, how her saliva is produced, anything. It's just a haze of pleasure, of licking and sucking and the occasional hum that has him convinced she's memorized all his previous escapades because there is no way she'd think to do that on her own.
Right?
Oh god, who cares.
His hand finds her head and he threads his fingers through her hair, riding the gentle bob of her head as she works him over.
They didn't really stop to discuss the ins and outs of the new (and improved?) Gipsy Danger. It was a fast and desperate reunion that has landed them both in his bed.
Her hands settle on his inner things, thumbs pressing against his skin as she works him. She knows to keep her teeth covered, though she finds this can be strangely erotic with the slightest, faintest scrape of teeth to skin. Never, ever enough to hurt -- just enough to give a sense of danger before it's soothed away with a swipe of her tongue and press of her lips.
He'll ask her later, when he's not so overwhelmed by seeing her again.
Groaning every time she lets the edge of her teeth scrape against him, Herc rides out Gipsy's fun with a hand in her hair, his lower lip folded between his teeth as he sucks in great big breaths through his nose.
He moans her name, his voice rattling deep in his chest, his heels digging into the mattress as he fought to keep from thrusting up into her mouth.
Gipsy can tell that she's driving him as crazy as he did to her, though she's conscious of what will happen if she continues this for too long. She remembered that pretty clearly from his collection of memories, and so when she hears her name, she gives a final drag of her lips upward and frees him from her mouth, letting a cool puff of air ghost over his skin as she props herself up on her elbows.
She smiles at him, coy and sly and pleased with herself. You called, Hercules?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-07-21 12:48 am (UTC)His arm snakes around her hip and pins her down — not that he's under any real illusions of being stronger than her, but still, the reminder might help keep her still while he works her over — and Hercules is reminded just why he likes doing this so much. Sure, it's been a few long years since he's been down in this area of a woman's body, but it's not like this is a skill you really forget. And when she had been alive, his wife had been very detailed in her instruction of how he should please her, so he's kind of got this down.
He alternates between long strokes with the flat of his tongue and teasing little flicks with the tip, humming happily when she groans and her hips twitch like she wants to move.
Don't worry, baby, Hercules has got you.
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Date: 2013-07-21 12:56 am (UTC)Gipsy is going to end up screaming -- she knows it. And, it's not going to be like any other scream she may have ever thought or felt or heard. This was going to be entirely different and so, so much better.
Pleasure rakes through her body and it's like a rising tide; it's slow, excruciatingly so, and overwhelming, too. It's like a wave is crashing through her instead of over her, each flick of his tongue sending cognitive messages to what passes for her brain in steady, heart pounding pulses.
She's going to lose her goddamn mind.
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Date: 2013-07-21 01:26 am (UTC)As it is, he kind of likes it. Not that he particularly enjoys the taste of synthetic lubricant — at least, not yet — but she's just slightly different from every other woman he's been with, and that makes her special, as cliche as it sounds. Gipsy isn't just any woman, and he likes to be reminded of that, as often as possible.
Her hips keep moving in little aborted twitchy movements, and Herc applies himself to his task with greater fervor. It stands to reason that a body as unstimulated as hers would react quickly to anything he does, but he'd be lying if he said it wasn't incredibly hot to realize how quickly she was winding up.
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Date: 2013-07-21 04:24 pm (UTC)She's trying not to lose it too fast -- she wants this to last, and wants to carve a place in her memory out for this first time with him. She wants to remember this, how it felt and how easily he took to her, like they were meant to be together in every way, not just as jaeger and pilot.
Her breathing is beginning to come in much shorter intervals now and sensations shoot throughout her entire body and she trembles underneath him, body shaking with every pass.
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Date: 2013-07-21 05:16 pm (UTC)He probably should have shaved before doing this, but for some reason, the idea of stopping what he was doing to go to the bathroom and razor off his semi-permanent beard is not a very appealing one. Gipsy doesn't seem to mind the scrape of his stubble very much, at least, if the way her hips shift against his face is any indication. So, y'know, he's just going to find a way to deal, somehow.
(What a joke. He wants to do this to her every day, clean-shaven or not.)
He can't really hear her breathing shorten over the buzzing in his own ears, and doesn't try to fight the urge to press his hips down into the mattress as he licks into her, seemingly willing to stay down there for hours. Or minutes. Or however long it takes her to lose control and let go.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-21 10:22 pm (UTC)She finds release in a typhoon of sensations, each wave more intense and fucking mind blowing than the last. Heart slamming in her chest, Gipsy looses an indecipherable utterance that is probably some kind of jaeger swear as she finally loses control.
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Date: 2013-07-22 01:31 am (UTC)He can't even understand the words coming out of her mouth right now, and he would laugh about that if his mouth wasn't so busy, and all he can do is close his eyes and latch his lips onto her and not let her writhing dislodge him.
It's only when she slumps, exhausted, back against the bed does he let up, lapping at her to gentle her through the last of her aftershocks, marveling at how perfect her body is, how beautifully she reacts to him.
"Christ, love, you're incredible," he murmurs, sounding a little drunk off his arousal, trailing sticky lips up her belly as he crawls back up the length of her body to bury his face in the crook of her neck.
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Date: 2013-07-22 01:45 am (UTC)Either way, he's left her spent and panting on the bed, body twitching and shaking when he brings her down from it. She gropes for him, wanting to feel his heat against her hands again and when he comes back she pulls him in tight, a breathless laugh her only response at first.
"I think...that is a title you deserve."
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Date: 2013-07-22 01:51 am (UTC)He brushes reverent little kisses over her skin, stroking her hair as he makes his way to her lips.
"No, this one is all on you, Gipsy."
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Date: 2013-07-22 01:55 am (UTC)Gipsy's hands find his face against and she experiments a little, teeth coming down gently on his lower lip, similar to what he'd done to her much earlier. She's curious if his reaction will be anything like hers was because she really, really hops it is. He did her such a service already, and she'd like to return the favor in any way she can.
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Date: 2013-07-22 02:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:18 am (UTC)Gipsy isn't any expert on men and women and human nature, but she remembers the look on his face when the girl in his memories touched, licked and sucked him. It's a vivid thing for her and it sparks that irritating twinge of jealousy again in Gipsy's core. It makes her hold him to her a little more possessively, her kiss turning a little more demanding.
It's time to do something about those pants -- he's had them on for far too long.
"Help me get these off," she growls, breaking the kiss long enough to say that, and snake her hand down between them to slide against his hardness. "I need the rest of you, Hercules Hansen."
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:27 am (UTC)Something in her head suddenly ups her determination, if the way she touches him is any indication, her arms around him tightening, her lips pressing harder against his. He wonders what it is, and hopes he'll be able to remember to ask her, later. The way her mind works is a fascinating thing, for sure.
He groans when she slides her palm over the front of his slacks, her hand sure and firm against his dick, and he's only too happy to help her rip the offending clothing off him. It's rather undignified, but sooner or later he gets them off, yanking them down and off his legs, leaving him in just as naked a state as her.
"There. That better?"
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:31 am (UTC)"Much," she says happily, hand snaking right back down to take him in her hand, fingers tracing over his length. "Much, much better."
Exactly what she's been aiming for since the beginning, actually. She savors the feel of his skin against her hand, and she's not shy about wrapping her fingers around him, testing him a little as she swipes her hand up then down, eyes fixed on his face.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:38 am (UTC)It would be better if—
"Here, love," he murmurs, plucking her hand off him and pulling it up to his mouth so he can lick her palm slowly, curling his tongue around her fingers as he watches her with hooded eyes. "Now try."
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:43 am (UTC)and...
well.
If his goal was to make her hunger for him quadruple, then he's outdone himself. The heat of his tongue curling around her fingers has Gipsy licking her own lips, pupils dilating as she focuses on him, the rest of the room fading to a distant and insignificant blur.
Eyes never leaving his, she follows his instructions, moving her hand back down to try again.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 02:51 am (UTC)God the look she's giving him. If he were a younger man, a less patient man, he'd tip her over and bury himself in her and just go to town, racing until he fell to completion without thought or care. But he's not that young any more and he's very patient, in the grand scheme of things, so he just rolls himself onto his back and pulls her with him, settles his hand on her hip and watches her watch him as her hand curls around him once more.
"Yeah, just like that. That's perfect, Gipsy."
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:07 am (UTC)"I am glad you approve, Hercules Hansen."
She leans over to give him a soft kiss before pulling away, nibbling down his neck to his chest in a very similar fashion to what he'd done to her earlier. Her lips drop heated, damp and sucking kisses along his skin, lips pausing to linger over and adore slightly raised scar tissue before resuming her trek downwards.
Her hands grip his hips as she nudges his knees apart, settling there between them, a slightly triumphant look on her face that he will in no way understand.
He's mine, now.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:17 am (UTC)Finally reaching her goal, Gipsy holds him down as she shoulders in between his legs, a strangely triumphant look on her face that he can't even parse at the moment.
What on earth is going through her head right now?
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:22 am (UTC)From there, it's rudimentary -- instinct drives her, along with memory (his, specifically). Because she knows how he was feeling at the time and she was able to watch, she knows where and how to make it better, hotter, and how to make him harder.
She wants him feeling like he's going to rupture something by the end of it.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:28 am (UTC)He maybe mumbles something about keeping her teeth covered as she draws him deeper, but he has no idea if he actually said it or not because she's kind of short-circuiting his brain right now, and he's powerless to stop her. He can't even think about the logistics of all this; what her tongue is made out of, how her saliva is produced, anything. It's just a haze of pleasure, of licking and sucking and the occasional hum that has him convinced she's memorized all his previous escapades because there is no way she'd think to do that on her own.
Right?
Oh god, who cares.
His hand finds her head and he threads his fingers through her hair, riding the gentle bob of her head as she works him over.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:37 am (UTC)Her hands settle on his inner things, thumbs pressing against his skin as she works him. She knows to keep her teeth covered, though she finds this can be strangely erotic with the slightest, faintest scrape of teeth to skin. Never, ever enough to hurt -- just enough to give a sense of danger before it's soothed away with a swipe of her tongue and press of her lips.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:52 am (UTC)Groaning every time she lets the edge of her teeth scrape against him, Herc rides out Gipsy's fun with a hand in her hair, his lower lip folded between his teeth as he sucks in great big breaths through his nose.
He moans her name, his voice rattling deep in his chest, his heels digging into the mattress as he fought to keep from thrusting up into her mouth.
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 03:56 am (UTC)She smiles at him, coy and sly and pleased with herself. You called, Hercules?
no subject
Date: 2013-07-22 04:02 am (UTC)"Come here," he orders, reaching for her, dragging her back up his body so he can kiss her swollen lips and frame her face in his hands.
"You're so perfect, I can't even stand it."
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