Two Week Stay-cation // (Logan, Veronica) NC-17
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Bouncing down the stairs, Logan buttoned the last button on his shirt before grabbing the railing and swinging around toward the kitchen. Still flipping through his mind were sounds, images, and sensations from the dream of his that had ended barely a half hour ago. Much as he tried to replace them with sobering thoughts of his grandmother, Dick Cheney, and Chewbacca, so far nothing was working. All he could think about was Veronica. Veronica Mars and her strawberry lips, bright blue eyes, and firm breasts.
It was a situation not about to be made any better by the fact that she was waiting for him at the island, cupping a bowl of Fruity Crackle Crunch. Well, she wasn’t waiting for him in the traditional sense… she was just there. With the thoughts that had been fermenting in his mind for the last thirty minutes though, that’s how it felt.
At least she was wearing a little more in the way of clothing this time.
“Mornin’!” she chirped at him, waving her spoon.
“Hello,” he responded with a nod, striding past her. That’s it, Logan. Be cool. Perhaps even border on aloof. He began to prepare his own bowl of the sugary cereal without furthering the conversation. Shaking the box, he noted that ever since she’d entered the house, it had been getting emptier a lot faster.
“How are you doing this morning, Veronica?” she spoke up, deepening her voice so as to imitate him. “I’m great Logan, thanks for asking! I gotta say though, I’m still a little sore after our wrestling match.”
A bear trap snapped around his heart. His spoon clattered into his bowl as he dropped it and spun to look at her. “Wrestling match?”
--Veronica’s tits bounced as she landed on the mattress, hair fanning out around her. She giggled. “I said you could touch me, Logan. Not man-handle me.”
“Yeah. In the pool last week?”
Oh! “Oh, right. Yeah, sorry, I… brain lapse.” He smacked himself in the forehead, secretly hoping it would shake free the flashback to last night’s dreamscape.
Unaware as to what was going on inside his mind, Veronica laughed. “I’ll say. Anyway, I must’ve I pulled or twisted or contorted something in my shoulder, because it’s only just starting to feel normal again. Today was the first day I woke up without feeling like I’d slept on a knife all night.”
Inwardly, he scoffed. You think that’s pain? Try being a sixteen-year-old guy attempting to fight off a hard-on while the reason for its existence is standing four feet away from you.
“Yeah, well, losing hurts,” he managed to shoot back, surprised his brain was capable of forming full sentences in its current state.
“What?” she blurted, milk coming just a few fractions of an inch from spilling out of her mouth. “Whoa. Hang on a second,” she said after swallowing.
--Swallowing every last drop of his cum, her throat bobbing up and down. With a grin, she sat up, letting her nipple brush over the tip of his softening cock. Rocking back on her knees, she covered her now exposed pussy with her hand. Started rubbing herself in a lazy rhythm, hips thrusting against her hand to increase the pressure. Keeping herself wet and ready for when he’s up for round two, she said.
Okay, so he might have made that one up in the shower. Composing and ending for his severed dream seemed like a pretty logical thing to do…
Still, it’d be nice if you could save the remembering for later, he growled at his own brain.
“You’re not saying you think you actually beat me, are you?”
Her voice managed to keep him tethered to reality, to comb away some of the fog threatening to consume his mind. There you go, he encouraged himself. Stay focused. It’s your only hope.
“I kinda think I am.” Each word he spoke lifted him further out of his trance, burned another erotic image out of his mind. Stroking his chin, he cast a thoughtful gaze to the ceiling. “Yup. That’s what I’m saying.”
“Wow. You have no idea what kind of fury you just brought down on yourself, do you?”
“Oh no. I didn’t get the tiny blonde one angry, did I?” He smirked at her, filling his bowl with cereal. “I’m sure infants and senior citizens across the country are trembling with-”
Before he could finish his sentence, Veronica set her bowl on the island, stepped forward, and blasted her fist into his biceps.
Shocked, Logan looked at her for a long second before the nerve impulses crashed into his consciousness. “…Ow!” He drew the word out, bringing his other hand up to clutch his wounded muscles. “What the Hell?”
“Exactly.” She gave him a stiff nod. “Now you’re scared, arent’cha?”
He gaped at her. “You just punched me!”
“Mmhm!” Tilting her last cereal bits into her mouth, she stepped back to lean against the counter, crossed her arms, and flashed him the same smirk he’d been sending her way a few seconds ago.
Though he didn’t want to acknowledge it, at least in a way that would be noticeable on his exterior, Logan was now more turned on than he had been when he’d first woken up.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his dream last night was unlike any he’d had before. It wasn’t like the times when Alyssa Milano would appear before him, donning a full nurse’s uniform. Or when Reese Witherspoon would be there, grinning at him from across the room while lifting one side of her skirt just far enough to show him she’d apparently lost her panties somewhere.
No, it was far more similar to the dreams he used to have about Lilly.
Veronica wasn’t some fantasy girl he’d never been close to, or never touched. Five days ago he’d spent a half hour rolling around with her in the pool. He knew what it felt like to have her flesh sliding through his palms. How her legs felt wrapped around his trunk. Squeezing. Her breasts had pressed into his back, the peaks of her nipples palpable even through the sheath of her bathing suit.
Since then, they’d brushed together countless times in their day-to-day interactions. Leaning across each other to reach different things at the dinner table. Lounging together on the couch as they watched a movie, thighs kissing, hands colliding when they both dug into the popcorn bowl at the same time.
She was real. She could provide him with actual tactile experiences. He could hold her, could caress her, could kiss her…
If he wanted to…
Now she was standing in front of him, looking at him with those innocent but dangerous eyes, a triumphant smile sewn on her face. And part of him just wanted to wrap her in the circle of his arms and scoop her lips up with his.
Logan didn’t know where all these feelings were coming from, or what they meant. He couldn’t understand why they were just appearing now- after knowing this little blonde treat for years. All he knew was that they were gripping his every thought, refusing to let go and pushing him in directions he’d never gone before.
“Hey…” Her voice pulled him from his reverie. Enough that he would be able to understand what she was saying, at least. “Have you ever noticed that all we ever seem to do is bicker with each other?”
Somewhat surprised by the question, Logan thought about it for a second, then shrugged. “I wouldn’t call it bickering. It’s more like… friendly banter.”
“Well, either way it’s you and me pushing each other’s buttons.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”
“Does it bother you?” she asked, brow furrowed.
“Not really,” he said with a little smile.
After his quick, honest answer, her troubled expression turned to one of satisfaction. “Me neither,” she agreed. Nudging herself away from the counter, she headed towards the pool house. “Personally, I think it’s kinda fun,” she added.
“Yeah,” Logan responded, voice hushed, yet again becoming lost in a whirlpool of thoughts that all seemed centered around his houseguest. He’d never really pondered their typical method of interaction before. Reflecting on her assessment now though, he realized she was right. A conversation between them was often riddled with some combination of sarcasm, teasing, and good-natured insults.
Thinking about it though… he couldn’t imagine things being any different. How boring would his life be if he didn’t have Veronica around to keep him on his toes? Challenging him when none of his other friends cared enough, or were brave enough to do so. Forcing him to exercise some measure of his intellect instead of relenting to his opinions. Speaking up and calling him a jackass when he deserved it.
Logan knew that the other members of their group didn’t always approve. Thought she was violating her rights as a low-ranking member of their hierarchy when she chose to defy him. “Man, that Mars has got some attitude, doesn’t she?” they would ask him after observing one of their verbal sparring matches. What they really meant was, “Man, that Mars has got a brain, and she actually bothers to use it.” …Which, from their perspective, wasn’t really a good thing.
At that point he would usually change the subject. Because despite what his caveman-minded friends thought, he always enjoyed watching her come to life like that. Discarding her usual role as one of the more quiet members of their group to stand up and make herself heard.
He liked that he could bring that out in her. He liked what they brought out in each other. That she seemed to see something in him that was worth teasing to the surface. Even if their way of accomplishing it was through the aforementioned button-pushing.
“You finish your breakfast,” her voice traveled over her shoulder to him as she reached the back door. “I’m just going to grab my bag, and we can leave for school.”
He was glad when she didn’t look back, because she might’ve caught the suddenly contemplative expression he was wearing. Smirking just in case she did turn around though, he called after her with a mocking tone. “Yes, dear!”
Watching her walk away, hips pitching back and forth like a boat in choppy waters with each step she took, he was helpless as yet another montage invaded his brain. This one was definitely an original.
--Running his hands over her ass as he plunged into her from behind. Veronica was on her knees, forearms flattened on the bed as she held herself up by her elbows. White knuckles glinted in the sunlight as she gripped the upper edge of his sheets. Between heavy breaths and a staccato rhythm of grunts and moans, she managed to dispatch her most recent command. “Harder, Logan,” she said in a quiet voice that was becoming hoarse. “Harder.”
Logan could already feel his jeans tightening around his waist. With a sigh, he cast a helpless glance toward the ceiling and wondered if it was too late to convince his mother that he was too sick to leave the house.
(( End Chapter Five ))
[ So? Didja like it? I hope so. Turns out this is my first ever time posting anything even remotely smutty. Which might be a surprise considering how much LoVe stuff I’ve written, lol. Anyhoo, if you happen to have any con crit re: how to make the smut better (in any future endeavours), please feel free… Of course, I realize how strange it is to be asking for “advice on how to writes better pr0n” (although I'm doing it for your sake/enjoyment, I promise!), so feel free to be anonymous. Or e-mail me at cloud_forest_@hotmail.com. Strictly confidential, of course. Then again, if you liked it- the smut or the chapter in general, those kinds of comments are muchly welcomed, too! Hehe. ]