Such a Nice Young Lady
I was going to post this yesterday but got distracted by a naughty pencil case, so anyway, here you go. Enjoy!
Title: Such a Nice Young Lady
Author: mikes_grrl
Pairing: Gene/Annie
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17+) for the sexin’
Warnings: PWP, just so you aren’t shocked. I don’t think there are any spoilers, but I suppose by default it is post 2.08.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 3,000
Summary: Annie gets what she wants, and Gene gets more than he bargained for.
NOTES: This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic’s Anonymous Porn Fest (‘Gene and Annie are undercover, posing as a couple. In order not to be discovered, they find themselves doing more sexual bonding than they bargained for’). Yes, another one, and this time it did not even make it into ‘story’ form, it is another one of my mega-PWP not-stories. How you suffer so. Annie’s a surprise in this and yes, yes, I agree, it’s unlikely, but it’s not like I have a lot of control over the characters here. *is but put-upon writer*
Such a Nice Young Lady
Gene Hunt stood at the door, cursing fate for doing this to him. It was a dive, the type of place a man like him loved to be: half naked women, good booze, and a haze of cigar smoke. However, he did not love to be there on duty, undercover, and with an innocent, vulnerable, and wholly un-tarted up DC Cartwright on his arm. She tried, but ‘tart’ is not a fashion statement, it is a lifestyle, and Cartwright did not cut it. Suki, she was not.
They were, technically, out of jurisdiction, way over in ‘K’ Division. Out of bounds, really, as Sam reminded him about 10,437 times on their way to the place. The fact remained that their only lead to the murder of Tony Jenkins led here, and to a ring of drug dealers who ran their little not-quite-empire out of this club. To Gene, the fact that the scum mostly sold their wares on his turf meant that if they were located in Algeria they were still his problem.
Now, however, his problem was finding the scum without blowing his hand, and keeping Cartwright out of trouble. She was a smart girl and a good cop (for a bird), but she was still a nice young lady from a decent family who really, really should not wear fishnet stockings and a halter top. Especially not the halter top, because those only worked on flat chested dames or porn stars, not well stacked young ladies where too much tended to fall out the side. Sam tripped over his dick insisting that he should be the one to go undercover with Annie as soon as she walked out of the bathroom in the diner where she changed clothes. Gene knew that with Sam on her arm, they would be thrown out of the place in less than a minute. This was not a dugout for prissy looking nonces sporting high-class hookers; this was a hard driving den of inequity, and that meant it was a job for the Gene Genie.
Ironically, Annie was his ticket in. Nothing looked more suspicious than an unknown bloke showing up at a bar alone, so they were making as if he was a businessman out for a night of fun with his mistress at a place where nobody would recognize them. They got in and sat down and started trying to talk to anyone, absolutely anyone, but other than the waitress, who might as well have been topless for the all the dental floss she was wearing, no one even looked at them.
It took Gene a full bottle of whiskey and Cartwright getting too flirty and one really cheap cigar at the bar before he finally landed on a bloke named Don who seemed to know something. Gene talked up his non-existant connections - well, they did exist, in the case files at least - and he made vague inferences to ‘trade’ and ‘business’ while he bought Don a few drinks. Annie moved and sat in Gene’s lap, throwing him off, but Don did not notice as he was staring at her tits. Some men were reliable that way, Gene thought as he adjusted, trying not to press a hard on into his Detective Constable Cartwright.
Don said he would talk to Johnson, who apparently could get Harper for them, and Gene made like he knew who the hell he was talking about. Don led them upstairs to what looked like a suite of hotel rooms, and opened the door to one of them. They all walked in and Don shut the door behind him.
“So what’s this, then? I ain’t payin’ for this. Just here on business.”
“Yeah yeah, I heard you. Johnson’ll be here in a few minutes. Not something to talk about in the club, yeah?” Don said, shifting his eyes back to Annie’s chest. “But could ‘ave a bit o’ fun while waiting, with your bird’s pretty lips…” He not so subtly ran a hand over his crotch. Gene debated the pros and cons of castrating him, thinking that might be bad for business, but Annie swung her hips and tilted her head and gave Don a nasty look.
“Don’ do blow jobs,” she said smartly and Gene could have kissed her. She was holding her own, and if she kept with the mouthing off, they might get out alive. He was under no illusions about the reason for taking the conversation out of the club. If things went pear shaped, it would be easier for Don to remove the bodies without witnesses.
Don frowned. “Then wot the fuck kind of girl are you?”
“Mine, ‘case you forgot,” Gene snarled, but Don stood his ground.
“Yeah, you say.” Don appraised them then turned and walked out of the room.
Annie looked at Gene but he shook his head. Too easy for them to be listening in, and he did not want to get sloppy now. She sat down on the couch and Gene paced, hoping that Sam was not fool enough to try and rescue them right now. They were close to getting something, or somewhere, if they just got past this hazing. Not passing was not an option anyway.
“Coulda’ left us something to drink,” Annie whined, playing it up in case anyone was in range. Gene nodded and kept pacing. The door opened after another five minutes and a waitress walked in bearing glasses and a bottle of whiskey, and made Gene sign for it. He remembered to use his cover at the last second. He sat down next to Annie and they nodded at each other in confirmation: yes, someone was listening in.
The door opened again and a different man walked in, looking smug. Don trailed behind him. “Glad you came to visit. My name is Harry Jackson.” He shook hands with a wary Gene, who did not like being traded around.
“Thought I was goin’ to speak to Harper.” Gene sucked on his teeth and crossed his arms.
Jackson ignored the comment and plucked at hairs on his jacket sleeve thoughtfully. “I think we might be open to negotiating. But I can’ speak for Harper.”
“Then no point in…” Gene started for the door, and Jackson held up a hand.
“Oi, don’ want to seem inhospitable. You bringin’ business in, an’ we appreciate it. We’ll set up a meeting with Harper for you later this week, yeah? But tonight…” He waved his hand, indicating the room around them. “Tonight, accept our ‘ospitality. Know what it is to get a break from the, er, ‘home’ life, yeah? So you and the bird ‘ave a good time.”
“Don’ need, got a room reserved at…”
“Accept the hospitality.” Jackson said, his voice and his eyes full of meaning that Gene Hunt did not miss. So. This was the test.
“Least let me call the ‘otel an’ let ‘em know we don’t need the room,” Gene said levelly. Jackson nodded and escorted Gene out of the room down the hall to a phone. Gene called the phone box where Chris was, just in case Gene needed to call out, and he made a fair play at ‘cancelling’ reservations and letting the ‘establishment’ know that he was ‘good for the night.’ Chris was incredibly confused but Gene knew Sam would get it, once the message was delivered.
When Gene walked back in the door was locked behind him. He went over to a very nervous looking Cartwright and sat down, whispering in her ear.
“They want to hear some humpin’, once they think we’re done they’ll unlock the door.”
Annie’s eyes went wide for a moment, then she pulled in and kissed him. He stopped in shock; he was planning on tickling her or something, maybe knocking over a table to make some noise, and that would have been that. He kissed back instinctively - lips were lips, and these were nice ones, and she tasted a lot like whiskey right about now - but his brain kicked off topic completely.
All he could think about was that never in his life did he ever make a play for anyone on his team. Aside from the fact that his team was, previously, all male (which presented a unique and generally insurmountable set of problems), he did not condone fraternization -- although he honestly never had much cause to consider it before now, anyway. He worried at this problem, half in and half out of the kiss, until Annie moved to hitch one fishnet-clad leg over his thigh and ground into him, her short skirt riding up as she moved, at which point fraternization was the least of his worries. His brain decided that self-analysis was good for Sam, but not Gene Hunt, not when those nice soft breasts were pressing up against him and the owner of said breasts was attacking his mouth like a drunken prozzie.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled so she was straddling his thigh and her breasts were comfortably scrunched up against him. Comfortable for him, in any case, as he started feeding his tongue into the kiss and moving his hands down to fondle her ass. Her change of position hiked her skirt up further and Gene realized he was actually fondling her actual ass, no panties at all in the way. A little covert exploration proved that some form of thong was in evidence, and he ran his fingers along it until it disappeared into the crack of her butt, his cock straining in his pants at the sensation of the silky material wedging deep into Annie’s ass. His hips bucked, pushing his leg into her, and hitting something good because she started moaning into his mouth.
It was, Gene thought as he fondled the suspenders running down her waist to the stockings, one hell of a moan. She started thrusting against him, holding onto his shoulders for support, still deep into his mouth. If Sam had not tried for this yet, then the boy was as queer as a square football. Gene decided to pick up Sam’s slack and rolled over, sliding onto his knees between her legs as he moved. He broke the kiss, his tongue trailing, still trying for more of her, but he was overdressed for proceedings. He quickly stripped off his jacket and tie and undid a few buttons of his shirt, his eyes locked on Annie, who was lying back, flushed, and panting. Her hands followed his arm movements, lightly touching, then she started unbuttoning his shirt all the way and pulled up his vest to run her hands over his chest. He lowered his head like a bull charging and fell forward into a hard kiss. He felt her hands and legs move and he looked to the side.
“No, keep’em on,” Gene said hoarsely as she went to unhook her suspenders. He pushed up her halter top and began sucking on a nipple, wetting it down before nibbling on it, and she gasped. Her hands were busy and Gene sat up a little so she could take off his shirts completely. He laid down on top of her, bare skin rubbing, and kissed her again. He moved to talk in her ear.
“Too far gone, love, you pushed this man too far to stop…”
She gasped and pushed herself against him, bucking her hips so his trapped erection pressed against her sex. “Jus’ fuck me.” She said it loudly, and whether it was for them or for him he did not care, he intended to follow directions. Still pressed against her and kissing again, he reached down and freed his erection, letting his pants fall to his knees. He was moving his hands forward to deal with her thong when he stopped, blinded by the sensation of her hand fisting his cock like…well, like a man. Her grip was hard but not punishing and very, very sure. Gene tried to uncross his eyes, wondering exactly where she figured this art form out, and he realized as she squealed that he had grabbed her thong and pulled it, hard. She did not stop, though, and Gene tried to swallow one of her breasts as he groaned and sucked while she stroked - no, yanked him off.
“Oi! Damn…” Gene sat back pushed her hand away, too close to coming and not where he wanted to be. “Don’ do good to get a man off before he fucks, you, love.”
She nodded, wide eyed, and he returned to shoving her thong to one side. She was dripping wet and there was a spot on the sofa, but Gene suspected it was not the first one and would not be the last. As he looked down to line himself up, taking his time and enjoying the view of her soft, glistening pussy as his fingers spread her open, she leaned forward and grabbed his hips.
“Do it do it do it! Please!” She hissed, pulling him in, and it was such a charge to hear her begging that he threw his head back and fell forward, pushing all the way in. He froze, gasping at the heat encasing his dick, and looking at her in shock.
Her fingers were curled painfully into his hips and her face was contorted, her eyes closed, as she panted and huffed in pain.
“Shit…” Gene went to pull out but she scrabbled at his hips and locked her legs around his waist, drawing him back in. Terrified, Gene bent down to whisper. “Y’stupid girl, what y’think yer doin?” He tried pulling out again, but she had strong legs.
She sucked in air. “Getting’…getting’ my cherry popped, Guv. Think you can…handle it?” She whispered then snarled at him, her voice rising. “Do it!” She yelled and Gene, utterly shocked and startled, began fucking her instinctively at the demand. He tried to tone down the thrusts, tried to think about not hurting her, tried to remember if he had ever actually deflowered a girl before, but it all sailed out of his mind as the sensation of being inside of her took over. He braced his thighs against the couch and leaned in, wrapping her into a hug as his hips slapped against her, his cock sliding in an out in a pounding drill. She started moaning and some part of his copper brain thought that whoever was listening in was now was getting one hell of a show.
He grabbed one of her hands and shoved it between them, and she opened her eyes in embarrassed surprise.
“Don’ fuckin’ get shy with me, love. You took it this too far, now give me a goddamn show.” He pushed her fingers over her clit then pulled his hand out to brace against the couch. She was slow at first, but as he kept at the hammering he felt her fingers moving harder and harder. He thought he was going to have a heart attack trying to hold off his own orgasm, but he figured at the very least he could make sure she got off, and anyway that might help kill the pain he was putting her through. She was narrow and tight and he knew he was well hung, and probably the worst choice for widening that channel without damage. She started to relax, smiling as she tilted her head back, her expression getting softer and hotter as she worked herself up. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it…come for me, love, yeah, oh fuck yeah, like that…do yerself in, come on…” Gene coaxed her on, finally reaching down and clamping his fingers around the base of his cock in a vice grip to keep from coming as he fucked her raw. He nearly lost it when she licked her lips and groaned and started thrusting back, but finally she curled up, shouting in surprise, shoving against him. He let himself go and grabbed her hips with both hands, closing his eyes in preparation for the utter destruction that was just a few thrusts away. He slammed into her, his rhythm off and his mind completely unraveled as he came with a loud, groaning yell that ended as a whine. His body shook ruthlessly, filling her with cum, his cock throbbing, and she squeaked in shocked amusement at the sensation.
They collapsed against each other, panting, and heard the door being unlocked. Gene laughed. He felt her kissing his cheek politely, as if to say thank you, and he pulled up to look at her. She was embarrassed but flushed and happy, and he ran a thumb over her lips before kissing her full on the mouth, shoving his tongue into her possessively, somewhat regretting that the door was unlocked so soon. She would look really good bouncing on top…but he pulled off, and motioned for her to put herself together while he picked up his own clothes.
Jackson met them downstairs and walked them out, handing Gene a slip of paper with a date and time on it, presumably for meeting Harper. Annie looked somewhat presentable but clearly used, and Gene stopped to buy her a shot - a double - at the bar. She slammed it and looked at him, and he nodded before leading them out. He knew he was acting and looking smug, and felt he deserved it, although he wondered what in hell made her try for him when Sam seemed so…available. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe there was something else going on with Tyler. Maybe he was a fairy after all, and maybe he was open for business…Gene’s pleasured thoughts tumbled with the possibilities, and as they walked down the road to where Sam parked the van in an alley, he patted her arse. No, his arse, it was his now and forever, although with Sam in the mix he might put up with sharing, under the right circumstances. He squeezed her butt cheek, considering those ‘right circumstances’ in more detail.
“Y’not getting’ possessive, now, Guv?” She said smartly, smiling, staring straight ahead.
“You may ‘ave taken me by surprise, love, but don’ think you got one over.”
“What?” She stared at him, confused.
Gene smiled. “Every piece of arse in CID belongs to me, Cartwright. Best you not forget that.”
######
Title: Such a Nice Young Lady
Author: mikes_grrl
Pairing: Gene/Annie
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17+) for the sexin’
Warnings: PWP, just so you aren’t shocked. I don’t think there are any spoilers, but I suppose by default it is post 2.08.
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 3,000
Summary: Annie gets what she wants, and Gene gets more than he bargained for.
NOTES: This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic’s Anonymous Porn Fest (‘Gene and Annie are undercover, posing as a couple. In order not to be discovered, they find themselves doing more sexual bonding than they bargained for’). Yes, another one, and this time it did not even make it into ‘story’ form, it is another one of my mega-PWP not-stories. How you suffer so. Annie’s a surprise in this and yes, yes, I agree, it’s unlikely, but it’s not like I have a lot of control over the characters here. *is but put-upon writer*
Such a Nice Young Lady
Gene Hunt stood at the door, cursing fate for doing this to him. It was a dive, the type of place a man like him loved to be: half naked women, good booze, and a haze of cigar smoke. However, he did not love to be there on duty, undercover, and with an innocent, vulnerable, and wholly un-tarted up DC Cartwright on his arm. She tried, but ‘tart’ is not a fashion statement, it is a lifestyle, and Cartwright did not cut it. Suki, she was not.
They were, technically, out of jurisdiction, way over in ‘K’ Division. Out of bounds, really, as Sam reminded him about 10,437 times on their way to the place. The fact remained that their only lead to the murder of Tony Jenkins led here, and to a ring of drug dealers who ran their little not-quite-empire out of this club. To Gene, the fact that the scum mostly sold their wares on his turf meant that if they were located in Algeria they were still his problem.
Now, however, his problem was finding the scum without blowing his hand, and keeping Cartwright out of trouble. She was a smart girl and a good cop (for a bird), but she was still a nice young lady from a decent family who really, really should not wear fishnet stockings and a halter top. Especially not the halter top, because those only worked on flat chested dames or porn stars, not well stacked young ladies where too much tended to fall out the side. Sam tripped over his dick insisting that he should be the one to go undercover with Annie as soon as she walked out of the bathroom in the diner where she changed clothes. Gene knew that with Sam on her arm, they would be thrown out of the place in less than a minute. This was not a dugout for prissy looking nonces sporting high-class hookers; this was a hard driving den of inequity, and that meant it was a job for the Gene Genie.
Ironically, Annie was his ticket in. Nothing looked more suspicious than an unknown bloke showing up at a bar alone, so they were making as if he was a businessman out for a night of fun with his mistress at a place where nobody would recognize them. They got in and sat down and started trying to talk to anyone, absolutely anyone, but other than the waitress, who might as well have been topless for the all the dental floss she was wearing, no one even looked at them.
It took Gene a full bottle of whiskey and Cartwright getting too flirty and one really cheap cigar at the bar before he finally landed on a bloke named Don who seemed to know something. Gene talked up his non-existant connections - well, they did exist, in the case files at least - and he made vague inferences to ‘trade’ and ‘business’ while he bought Don a few drinks. Annie moved and sat in Gene’s lap, throwing him off, but Don did not notice as he was staring at her tits. Some men were reliable that way, Gene thought as he adjusted, trying not to press a hard on into his Detective Constable Cartwright.
Don said he would talk to Johnson, who apparently could get Harper for them, and Gene made like he knew who the hell he was talking about. Don led them upstairs to what looked like a suite of hotel rooms, and opened the door to one of them. They all walked in and Don shut the door behind him.
“So what’s this, then? I ain’t payin’ for this. Just here on business.”
“Yeah yeah, I heard you. Johnson’ll be here in a few minutes. Not something to talk about in the club, yeah?” Don said, shifting his eyes back to Annie’s chest. “But could ‘ave a bit o’ fun while waiting, with your bird’s pretty lips…” He not so subtly ran a hand over his crotch. Gene debated the pros and cons of castrating him, thinking that might be bad for business, but Annie swung her hips and tilted her head and gave Don a nasty look.
“Don’ do blow jobs,” she said smartly and Gene could have kissed her. She was holding her own, and if she kept with the mouthing off, they might get out alive. He was under no illusions about the reason for taking the conversation out of the club. If things went pear shaped, it would be easier for Don to remove the bodies without witnesses.
Don frowned. “Then wot the fuck kind of girl are you?”
“Mine, ‘case you forgot,” Gene snarled, but Don stood his ground.
“Yeah, you say.” Don appraised them then turned and walked out of the room.
Annie looked at Gene but he shook his head. Too easy for them to be listening in, and he did not want to get sloppy now. She sat down on the couch and Gene paced, hoping that Sam was not fool enough to try and rescue them right now. They were close to getting something, or somewhere, if they just got past this hazing. Not passing was not an option anyway.
“Coulda’ left us something to drink,” Annie whined, playing it up in case anyone was in range. Gene nodded and kept pacing. The door opened after another five minutes and a waitress walked in bearing glasses and a bottle of whiskey, and made Gene sign for it. He remembered to use his cover at the last second. He sat down next to Annie and they nodded at each other in confirmation: yes, someone was listening in.
The door opened again and a different man walked in, looking smug. Don trailed behind him. “Glad you came to visit. My name is Harry Jackson.” He shook hands with a wary Gene, who did not like being traded around.
“Thought I was goin’ to speak to Harper.” Gene sucked on his teeth and crossed his arms.
Jackson ignored the comment and plucked at hairs on his jacket sleeve thoughtfully. “I think we might be open to negotiating. But I can’ speak for Harper.”
“Then no point in…” Gene started for the door, and Jackson held up a hand.
“Oi, don’ want to seem inhospitable. You bringin’ business in, an’ we appreciate it. We’ll set up a meeting with Harper for you later this week, yeah? But tonight…” He waved his hand, indicating the room around them. “Tonight, accept our ‘ospitality. Know what it is to get a break from the, er, ‘home’ life, yeah? So you and the bird ‘ave a good time.”
“Don’ need, got a room reserved at…”
“Accept the hospitality.” Jackson said, his voice and his eyes full of meaning that Gene Hunt did not miss. So. This was the test.
“Least let me call the ‘otel an’ let ‘em know we don’t need the room,” Gene said levelly. Jackson nodded and escorted Gene out of the room down the hall to a phone. Gene called the phone box where Chris was, just in case Gene needed to call out, and he made a fair play at ‘cancelling’ reservations and letting the ‘establishment’ know that he was ‘good for the night.’ Chris was incredibly confused but Gene knew Sam would get it, once the message was delivered.
When Gene walked back in the door was locked behind him. He went over to a very nervous looking Cartwright and sat down, whispering in her ear.
“They want to hear some humpin’, once they think we’re done they’ll unlock the door.”
Annie’s eyes went wide for a moment, then she pulled in and kissed him. He stopped in shock; he was planning on tickling her or something, maybe knocking over a table to make some noise, and that would have been that. He kissed back instinctively - lips were lips, and these were nice ones, and she tasted a lot like whiskey right about now - but his brain kicked off topic completely.
All he could think about was that never in his life did he ever make a play for anyone on his team. Aside from the fact that his team was, previously, all male (which presented a unique and generally insurmountable set of problems), he did not condone fraternization -- although he honestly never had much cause to consider it before now, anyway. He worried at this problem, half in and half out of the kiss, until Annie moved to hitch one fishnet-clad leg over his thigh and ground into him, her short skirt riding up as she moved, at which point fraternization was the least of his worries. His brain decided that self-analysis was good for Sam, but not Gene Hunt, not when those nice soft breasts were pressing up against him and the owner of said breasts was attacking his mouth like a drunken prozzie.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled so she was straddling his thigh and her breasts were comfortably scrunched up against him. Comfortable for him, in any case, as he started feeding his tongue into the kiss and moving his hands down to fondle her ass. Her change of position hiked her skirt up further and Gene realized he was actually fondling her actual ass, no panties at all in the way. A little covert exploration proved that some form of thong was in evidence, and he ran his fingers along it until it disappeared into the crack of her butt, his cock straining in his pants at the sensation of the silky material wedging deep into Annie’s ass. His hips bucked, pushing his leg into her, and hitting something good because she started moaning into his mouth.
It was, Gene thought as he fondled the suspenders running down her waist to the stockings, one hell of a moan. She started thrusting against him, holding onto his shoulders for support, still deep into his mouth. If Sam had not tried for this yet, then the boy was as queer as a square football. Gene decided to pick up Sam’s slack and rolled over, sliding onto his knees between her legs as he moved. He broke the kiss, his tongue trailing, still trying for more of her, but he was overdressed for proceedings. He quickly stripped off his jacket and tie and undid a few buttons of his shirt, his eyes locked on Annie, who was lying back, flushed, and panting. Her hands followed his arm movements, lightly touching, then she started unbuttoning his shirt all the way and pulled up his vest to run her hands over his chest. He lowered his head like a bull charging and fell forward into a hard kiss. He felt her hands and legs move and he looked to the side.
“No, keep’em on,” Gene said hoarsely as she went to unhook her suspenders. He pushed up her halter top and began sucking on a nipple, wetting it down before nibbling on it, and she gasped. Her hands were busy and Gene sat up a little so she could take off his shirts completely. He laid down on top of her, bare skin rubbing, and kissed her again. He moved to talk in her ear.
“Too far gone, love, you pushed this man too far to stop…”
She gasped and pushed herself against him, bucking her hips so his trapped erection pressed against her sex. “Jus’ fuck me.” She said it loudly, and whether it was for them or for him he did not care, he intended to follow directions. Still pressed against her and kissing again, he reached down and freed his erection, letting his pants fall to his knees. He was moving his hands forward to deal with her thong when he stopped, blinded by the sensation of her hand fisting his cock like…well, like a man. Her grip was hard but not punishing and very, very sure. Gene tried to uncross his eyes, wondering exactly where she figured this art form out, and he realized as she squealed that he had grabbed her thong and pulled it, hard. She did not stop, though, and Gene tried to swallow one of her breasts as he groaned and sucked while she stroked - no, yanked him off.
“Oi! Damn…” Gene sat back pushed her hand away, too close to coming and not where he wanted to be. “Don’ do good to get a man off before he fucks, you, love.”
She nodded, wide eyed, and he returned to shoving her thong to one side. She was dripping wet and there was a spot on the sofa, but Gene suspected it was not the first one and would not be the last. As he looked down to line himself up, taking his time and enjoying the view of her soft, glistening pussy as his fingers spread her open, she leaned forward and grabbed his hips.
“Do it do it do it! Please!” She hissed, pulling him in, and it was such a charge to hear her begging that he threw his head back and fell forward, pushing all the way in. He froze, gasping at the heat encasing his dick, and looking at her in shock.
Her fingers were curled painfully into his hips and her face was contorted, her eyes closed, as she panted and huffed in pain.
“Shit…” Gene went to pull out but she scrabbled at his hips and locked her legs around his waist, drawing him back in. Terrified, Gene bent down to whisper. “Y’stupid girl, what y’think yer doin?” He tried pulling out again, but she had strong legs.
She sucked in air. “Getting’…getting’ my cherry popped, Guv. Think you can…handle it?” She whispered then snarled at him, her voice rising. “Do it!” She yelled and Gene, utterly shocked and startled, began fucking her instinctively at the demand. He tried to tone down the thrusts, tried to think about not hurting her, tried to remember if he had ever actually deflowered a girl before, but it all sailed out of his mind as the sensation of being inside of her took over. He braced his thighs against the couch and leaned in, wrapping her into a hug as his hips slapped against her, his cock sliding in an out in a pounding drill. She started moaning and some part of his copper brain thought that whoever was listening in was now was getting one hell of a show.
He grabbed one of her hands and shoved it between them, and she opened her eyes in embarrassed surprise.
“Don’ fuckin’ get shy with me, love. You took it this too far, now give me a goddamn show.” He pushed her fingers over her clit then pulled his hand out to brace against the couch. She was slow at first, but as he kept at the hammering he felt her fingers moving harder and harder. He thought he was going to have a heart attack trying to hold off his own orgasm, but he figured at the very least he could make sure she got off, and anyway that might help kill the pain he was putting her through. She was narrow and tight and he knew he was well hung, and probably the worst choice for widening that channel without damage. She started to relax, smiling as she tilted her head back, her expression getting softer and hotter as she worked herself up. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it…come for me, love, yeah, oh fuck yeah, like that…do yerself in, come on…” Gene coaxed her on, finally reaching down and clamping his fingers around the base of his cock in a vice grip to keep from coming as he fucked her raw. He nearly lost it when she licked her lips and groaned and started thrusting back, but finally she curled up, shouting in surprise, shoving against him. He let himself go and grabbed her hips with both hands, closing his eyes in preparation for the utter destruction that was just a few thrusts away. He slammed into her, his rhythm off and his mind completely unraveled as he came with a loud, groaning yell that ended as a whine. His body shook ruthlessly, filling her with cum, his cock throbbing, and she squeaked in shocked amusement at the sensation.
They collapsed against each other, panting, and heard the door being unlocked. Gene laughed. He felt her kissing his cheek politely, as if to say thank you, and he pulled up to look at her. She was embarrassed but flushed and happy, and he ran a thumb over her lips before kissing her full on the mouth, shoving his tongue into her possessively, somewhat regretting that the door was unlocked so soon. She would look really good bouncing on top…but he pulled off, and motioned for her to put herself together while he picked up his own clothes.
Jackson met them downstairs and walked them out, handing Gene a slip of paper with a date and time on it, presumably for meeting Harper. Annie looked somewhat presentable but clearly used, and Gene stopped to buy her a shot - a double - at the bar. She slammed it and looked at him, and he nodded before leading them out. He knew he was acting and looking smug, and felt he deserved it, although he wondered what in hell made her try for him when Sam seemed so…available. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe there was something else going on with Tyler. Maybe he was a fairy after all, and maybe he was open for business…Gene’s pleasured thoughts tumbled with the possibilities, and as they walked down the road to where Sam parked the van in an alley, he patted her arse. No, his arse, it was his now and forever, although with Sam in the mix he might put up with sharing, under the right circumstances. He squeezed her butt cheek, considering those ‘right circumstances’ in more detail.
“Y’not getting’ possessive, now, Guv?” She said smartly, smiling, staring straight ahead.
“You may ‘ave taken me by surprise, love, but don’ think you got one over.”
“What?” She stared at him, confused.
Gene smiled. “Every piece of arse in CID belongs to me, Cartwright. Best you not forget that.”
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