Fic: And I Can't Think Straight (Adult)

[unamaga]

I'm always worried about wordcount when I write. Will people want to read something so short? Does it say something about my writing skills that I usually don't write more than six hundred for a fic? Well, I woke up this morning, said a hearty 'fuck you' to myself, and wrote this: under 200 words of artsy, original femmeslash that I'm proud of. Song for mood: PJ Harvey - Beautiful Feeling.

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And I Can't Think Straight [Adult] ~167

Her skin is soft under your fingers – slick with exertion, sweat pooling in the dip of her belly like dew on the vein of a leaf – and golden, stretched tight. The air tastes salty when you lick your lips and swirl the pad of your thumb through wet.

Please, she whispers, not because she wants, but because you do.

You bend anyway, parting her slippery thighs with your lips and hands, gathering the heat of her on the edges of your tongue until she moans and wraps her hand in your hair. She’s salty here, too, but you like the tang – spread her with trembling fingers for more of it, lick a rough line.

Her nails scratch your scalp hard enough to put blood under the clean white line of them, and you’re grateful for it. Your tongue pulls at the hard bud against your lips, dragging another sound from her that shivers through you like cool wind.

Please, she moans again, and this time she wants.