calpico | Basically, They're Married

Basically, They're Married

[Angela grew up in a very restrictive family. Do this at this exact time, do this later, look down your nose at this person, and never, ever ask any questions. They weren't even rich. They were just jerks.

She's not a kid anymore, so it doesn't eat her up inside or anything, but it's still... strange. Waking up in the mornings and just being able to do whatever. Her job helps - she's tech support for some random start-up at the moment, and that mostly consists of watching some idiot from California fuck up his website for the 2nd time that week and her having to unfuck it. It's the kind of work she can do in bits and pieces over the course of the day, and it leaves her a lot of time to herself.

Or, well, it would, if she wasn't living with a reason why she doesn't talk to her folks anymore. But whatever. Pukin's the love of her life. They'd met in college, laughed about how lame this party was, gotten a little drunk, and then Pukin had... well, look, Angela had still in her 'looking down her nose' phase. She'd joked about girls experimenting in college in a judgmental way.

Joke's on her, because she gave her virginity to a girl she met three hours ago. But it worked out, so whatever.]

Mm, Pukin?

[She's sat on the couch (picked out by her), legs crossed, still only half-dressed - she's got one of her shirts on, shorts (picked out by Pukin, probably, she can't remember but they're small enough that probably, yes), but very obviously no bra. Pukin seems to have noticed, considering the way she's staring. She rolls her eyes over at her girlfriend, sticks her tongue out at her before going back to typing on her laptop, fingers clacking with practiced ease across the keys.

Living with Pukin's a dream, even if Pukin's at work half the day. It'd be easier if Angela had an office job, but considering she works from home, the place feels a little lonely. On the other hand, it means she's always there when Pukin gets back. That's nice. 'Welcome home.' She always feels a little bit like a housewife when she says that, but it's not a bad feeling.

And it means when Pukin does have days off, Angela's always around to spend it with her.

... Pukin's still staring.]

If you're going to look like a sad puppy all day, give me like, thirty minutes, okay, babe? Then I'm all yours. Did you still want to - [And then she follows the line of Pukin's eyes, huffs and readjusts her shirt, makes sure the collar isn't drooping down quite as much. She hadn't realized how worn out this shirt was.]

Okay, I think I can guess what you want to do today, and it isn't checking out that new Italian restaurant.

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[ Pukin absolutely loves Angela.

What’d started as a fling at a college party had turned into far more than Pukin had ever anticipated. Pukin’d been known for her playboy ways back in college, and hardly ever stayed with one girl for more than a week. Most of her relationships were hook-ups, and that’s how Pukin liked them to be. She never foresaw that she’d fall deeply in love with the adorable blonde she’d met at just another random party. The same adorable blonde who’d made a snide comment about two women being together a few hours before she took her virginity.

Pukin thinks of that night fondly, even if the party itself was a bit lame. Before she’d met Angela, that is.

Pukin works, and she works often, so she’s glad to have a day off, and she’s glad that her adorable girlfriend is at home with her. Even if she’s a bit preoccupied, and can’t pay much attention to Pukin. In the workspace, she’s respected for her hard work ethic, and even a little bit (very) feared, but with Angela, she really is like a sad puppy. Pukin’s at the computer desk, looking at Angela like she’s a snack, her arms dangling over the back of the chair. It’s hard not to stare, when Angela looks the way that she does, so pretty and not to mention, busty, with that old shirt on. She chuckles at the way Angela pokes her tongue out at her.

Pukin’s dressed pretty comfortably herself, a contrast to how sharply she dresses when they go out together, or when she’s at work. Just some pajamas. ]

Angela. [ She mimics, her voice smooth. It’s the voice of a charmer, for sure, though Angela’s grown a bit immune to Pukin’s ways over the years they’ve been together.

… Not completely, though. Pukin grins. ]

Oh, is it that obvious? I just can't help myself sometimes.

[ She straightens her back a little as Angela re-adjusts her shirt so that peak of cleavage disappears from Pukin’s hungry eyes, and then she gets up, walks over to her girlfriend, and sits right down next to her. Even when they’re sat down like this, Pukin still looms over Angela’s tiny form. ]

Especially when you're over here looking so pretty. You have no business being so beautiful, did you know? [ Pukin kisses Angela’s head, and then flirtatiously nips at her ear. She murmurs sweetly, lowly, to her. ] Won't you come away from work?

Edited 2019-05-08 23:09 (UTC)

[Angela heard all the whispers from her friends, once her and Pukin started hanging out. She's a womanizer. She'll break your heart. She doesn't even know how to be in a stable relationship. And Angela had always justified it as, well, she's messing around too. She just thought the sex was good. Pukin was fun to be with.

She loved her.

And there's been ups and downs, but Pukin hasn't broken Angela's heart yet, so she figures that was just another thing she was wrong about back in college.]

Pukiiin.

[She's so, so not immune to Pukin's smooth voice, those seductive, hungry glances. They make her feel as wanted as they did back when she was barely in her twenties, back when having a few sips of wine still felt like a thrill. It doesn't help that Pukin's so much taller - taller people have always made her feel so safe, so loved, and, well. Pukin makes her feel like that anyway. It's a lot to deal with.

Her ears are sensitive, and Pukin knows that - that nip to her ear sends a little shock through her, makes her eyes go wide, her face flush. She playfully swats at her girlfriend's arm, huffing.]

Down, tiger. Thirty minutes, okay? I need this done before dinner time, and I'd rather not rush.

[She reaches to push, still playful, gently ease Pukin back to her side of the couch, one eye still on the laptop screen.]

Geez. One day without sex and you get like this. [They didn't do it yesterday - Pukin had come home from work a bit exhausted, and Angela hadn't been in the mood besides, so they'd just hugged a lot and Angela had massaged her shoulders. It had been very intimate, but not very sexual. Maybe that's what has Pukin worked up? She isn't sure.]

[ In truth, back then, Pukin hadn’t known how to be in a stable relationship. And she never had been, before Angela, never wanted to be. It’d been a learning experience for her, and that same learning led to a few of those ups and downs in hers and Angela’s relationship, but Pukin is glad. She’s glad to have met Angela at an otherwise very shitty college party.

Even throughout their many years together, Pukin’s never found Angela any less beautiful than the day she met her. She might have even thought her girlfriend more beautiful than she had back then, now that she’d actually fallen in love with her. All of that blonde hair with bright blue eyes to match, and all of those curves on her, from top to bottom...

... Not having sex yesterday really does have her revved up today. As much as she loves to cuddle Angela, the sight of that peak of Angela’s cleavage from earlier hasn’t left her mind. ]

Hm? Get like what?

[ Pukin hums in faux-innocence as she settles (albeit very briefly) on her side of the couch in response to those playful swats. She can see the way Angela peaks at her through one eye, even as her hands hover over her laptop’s keyboard, can see that flush on her cheeks from how Pukin had nipped at her ear. Her eyes narrow at her, and she smirks.

Just as quickly as she’d been pushed away, though, Pukin nuzzles back in, pushing her face into Angela’s neck. ]

You’ve already been working all day. You deserve a nice break, love. Plus... [ She murmurs, and then she kisses not her ear, but her neck. Slowly, once near her collarbone where her shirt dips down, and then upward a little more. At the same time, Pukin’s hand goes to slide along the top of Angela’s thigh where those little shorts (that Pukin definitely picked out) don't cover, and she squeezes softly. ] I want you so bad...

[Angela stiffens at that last line, shoulders narrowing - 'I want you bad.' She's the kind of person to bottle things up, to imply and then grumble when people don't pick up on her signals. She's very, very weak to bluntness like that.

And her neck's weak, besides. Then again, she can't think of anywhere on her body that isn't weak to being kissed by Pukin. The 'love' doesn't help. She's already a pile of fluffy, gooey feelings. This is her girlfriend. Heck, someday, hopefully soon, she's 100% going to be her wife.

Her thighs are soft, pliant to Pukin's touch, and Angela's legs part immediately to that intrusion, without even thinking about it. Those bright blue eyes are flitting across Pukin's body, then darting away, nervous.]

Get like this.

[She reaches down to Pukin's shoulder, but doesn't push away. She just steadies herself, even with one hand still tapping across the keys, one eye still occasionally looking across at the four or five windows she has open on her laptop.]

I seriously have work to do, babe... mm... and don't say that while staring directly at my boobs. At least look at my face.

[ Pukin knows when not to push Angela, when she’s too tired, or when she’s not in the mood, but when those squishy thighs part a little for her... Pukin grins, and then nips gently onto the skin of her neck. She hums against Angela’s skin, breath hot on her flesh. ]

Mm. I told you, I simply can’t help myself... [ She sighs, and then her eyes move to where Angela’s laptop screen is, at those few tabs that are up. Per Angela’s request, Pukin looks up and away from Angela’s boobs: soft and large, and to her face instead, from underneath her lashes. ] I know you have work to do, but you’re stressed. I can feel it in your thighs.

[ Pukin’s hand rubs at her thighs a little more, and then dips down between them, brushing against the front of her crotch. ]

So tense. [ Partially because Pukin is loving up on her so intensely, but God, Pukin can feel that heat that Angela’s body is producing, and she wants it. She means what she said. Pukin wants her. ] Let me help you relax, baby. Work can come later, I promise you.

[ She’s framing it as if she’s not getting excited, herself, as if she’s not getting hard. ]

That's definitely not why you're feeling my thighs.

[Because they're soft, and pliant to Pukin's touch, and each little squeeze and push makes her part them further - that'd be why Pukin's touching them, she imagines.

The tabs are all boring work stuff, basic programming. Some relationship advice site. 'I've been living with my partner for two years, and we're very happy, I want to get married but I'm not sure how to broach the subject -'

Angela doesn't notice if Pukin's reading that, she's too busy having her hips jerk when those fingers brush against her crotch through those thin, tight shorts. Some day she's going to point out Pukin bought these for her. Not today, though.]

... Jeez. I thought maybe you just wanted a blowjob, but it's like that, huh...

[Slowly, she raises both hands, eyes completely pulled away from the laptop by this point. Her arms wrap around her lover's shoulders, leaning in closer, taking in her warmth. She raises a leg, brushes her thigh across Pukin's crotch - woah.]

Uh, wow. Like that? Already?

Whatever could you mean..

[ Pukin sings softly near Angela’s ear, and if Angela can’t see her grin, then she can hear it in her tone of voice. But yes, Angela’s completely right in that the supposed tension is not why Pukin is actually touching her thighs. It’s because of that softness, and how very pliable they are, and how they part just enough so that Pukin can rub her...

Pukin doesn’t read what’s on the screen, can’t see the tab where marriage is concerned. Instead, she lifts her head up and out of the crevice of her lover’s neck, and lets her twist her body into Pukin’s arms.

She chuckles. ]

It is like that, in fact. [ Though she won’t say no to a chance for a blowjob, or for Angela to use those heavy breasts to get her off. That of which are showing a bit again from underneath her shirt, as Angela moves her body into Pukin. ] And I’m glad that you’ve finally let go of that laptop of yours. You’ve been on it all day. Now I can have you all to myself, even for just a bit of time. [ She says so with a triumphant grin on her lips.

When Angela’s leg brushes against Pukin’s crotch and feels the slight bulge there, Pukin really has nothing to say for herself. She’s not fully hard, not yet, but she’s undoubtedly eager. ]

Mmhm. [ Is what Pukin says in the end, and then, she leans in not to kiss Angela’s ear, or her neck, but her lips. ] I’ve missed you, since yesterday.

[ Missed being inside of her. ]

... Guess I've still got a couple of hours, anyway. No need to rush this. ['This' could mean the work or the sex, and Angela isn't clarifying - she's too busy kissing back, soft, small lips up against her lover's. Pukin's always been good at kissing. She's pretty sure that's why she let her have sex with her, way back when - all those seductive, forceful, encouraging kisses. They make Angela feel like the most attractive woman in the world.

Those words, too, make her shudder, and she scoots in closer still, clearly being brought in by Pukin's words, her attitude. That calm, even confidence. There's a sort of content warmth surging through her body, she can feel herself slipping into that mood. She flutters her eyelashes up at her lover, kisses into her chin instead of her lips, her small body held close to Pukin's, breasts pressed to her chest.]

Mm... pick me up, babe. Carry me to bed? [She doesn't want to do it on the couch, with her laptop right there.]

[ Pukin could go crazy right here. She wants to kiss Angela again and again, wants to kiss her deeper and peel off that shirt of hers while Angela is still in her lap (Pukin remembers that there’s no bra underneath, can feel those very breasts push against her), but she settles for one more heated kiss before Angela presses a kiss of her own to Pukin’s chin. ]

Of course. [ She effortlessly scoops Angela up, then. Pukin is a fit woman, nicely muscled in all of the right places, and her arms in particular are her strength. She gets Angela in a princess carry, so that the smaller woman is looking up at Pukin, and then leans down and kisses her again, even as she begins to walk, like she can’t help herself. Like she can’t keep her lips off of Angela’s. And she can’t. ] We’ll get you right to bed.

[ As she says so, Pukin whisks Angela away to their room easily, leaving the laptop there on the couch.

It takes only a minute to get to their room, and once they’re in, Pukin doesn’t even bother to close the door. After all, it’s just the two of them. She lies Angela down on the bed, and then, leaning over her, she presses yet another kiss to her mouth. ]

You're so beautiful, Angela. [ Pukin tells her between kisses, even though she just had, a few minutes ago. She can't tell her enough. Her words aren't just sweet, honeyed things. She means what she says. ] I can't wait to feel you.

[She feels like she's being whisked away by a noble prince, like she's the most precious and loved thing in the world. It's a little silly, a little childish - she's only two and a half years short of thirty, she realizes on occasion - but there's nothing wrong with that. They work hard, they have lives and worries. It's nice to feel like a little princess.]

Mm, darling -

[She hooks her arms around Pukin's neck, kisses back eagerly the entire way to the bedroom. When she's eased down onto her, her long blonde locks spill out around her, her eyes locked firmly on Pukin's. Her arms reach up, tugging Pukin down with her, around her shoulders, kissing deep, and doing her best to deepen every little loving nip.]

Don't worry about a condom.

[She whispers it, giggles slightly afterwards, sticks her tongue out like a tease. Her hand slides down Pukin's shoulder, down her arm, to her wrist, guides her to the hem of her shirt and pulls it upwards, slowly. Her thin stomach, first. Angela's got kind of an absurd hourglass of a figure when you actually look at her, especially at this angle. But she can't imagine Pukin minds.]

You've wanted it this badly all day, right? I promise, you can really feel me.

[ She follows the urges of Angela’s hands on her shoulders, on her arms, and she leans into those touches, allows herself to be lowered down close to Angela’s body. If it’s childish for Angela to think Pukin as a prince, then it’s childish for Pukin to think Angela as her princess, what with her blonde hair all fanned out around her frame perfectly. She looks ethereal to Pukin like this, and just as she leans into Angela’s urgings, she leans into those deep kisses and returns them. ]

Mm. [ Pukin purrs in response to that tease. ] You know just how to get me, don’t you? You little minx.

[ She teases back in turn. ‘Don’t worry about a condom,’ Angela says, and Pukin can feel her dick twitch alive with interest in her pants. There’s a tightness there that she needs to escape from, soon.

But what comes first is how much she needs to feel Angela. It’s true, Pukin’s been wanting this bad all day. Been wanting her. Again, she lets Angela guide her hand to where her shirt hem is, and she begins to pull it up herself. Fingers glide over that smooth tummy, and then the dips of her plentiful curves. Angela can rest assured that Pukin doesn’t mind her figure. She loves it. ]

Oh, you have no idea how badly I’ve needed to get my hands on you. [ Though, maybe she does, with how Pukin’s been acting since earlier. ] Here... [ Pukin mutters as her hand pushes that shirt of Angela’s up higher, lets her hands roam her skin further, until her shirt is up and over her braless breasts. Pukin doesn’t hesitate to give one of them a hungry squeeze, so that the bouncy flesh squishes between her fingers. ] And here. What with you looking so good in this shirt and these cute little shorts...

[ Pukin pushes her body into Angela's, and her crotch presses onto her thigh, making it apparent how much she enjoys Angela's body, and just how good she looked. ]

What if I told you I didn't have panties on, under the shorts?

[She giggles it out, a heavy sort of laugh coming from her as her full breast is squeezed, pliant to her lover's fingers - she sighs out, leans back against the bed, legs parting further, until she already looks ready for sex.

She tilts her head up, leans to kiss along her girlfriend's lips, her chin. Slowly, she trails her fingers along her own tiny waist, down to those shorts, reaches down to pull them to one side, and...

There's bright pink frills. She sticks her tongue out, again.]

I am, though.

[She's clearly pleased with herself. The grin on her face isn't going away.]

Hehe, sorry, sorry. Since I was so mean, you can get me however you want me, okay? Even face down, if you want. [Angela can be a little - picky, about positions. She prefers to be facing Pukin, on her back or in her lap. But she doesn't mind the idea of having her face buried in the pillows, right now.]

[ As Angela parts her thighs, Pukin works a knee between them to keep them spread, as she kneads fingers into the flesh of her tits. When Angela tempts her with that little idea, ‘What if I told you I’m not wearing panties?’, she lifts her head up a little, fingers still squeezed around one of her breasts, and her eyes follow the movements of Angela’s fingers. She’s interested, clearly, in the idea that beyond those shorts there’d only be her lover’s naked skin. ]

Then I’d tell you...

[ Pukin starts, only to be met with pink frills.

Pukin nearly pouts. She can’t stay mad, though, not when Angela giggles out in the way that she does, her tongue poked out from between her lips, and a cheeky grin on her face that makes Pukin want to ravage her. ]

... That you really are a minx. Aren’t you?

[ Pukin murmurs as she forms a smirk of her own, presses her body in close to Angela, leans in to kiss at her lover’s neck, groping away at her. Occasionally, her hand will slide down the curves of her hips, but it returns back to her breasts each time. ]

You’re just trying to get me even more worked up, at this point. [ Pukin laughs underneath her breath, and then, she straightens her body. Reaches a hand to begin to tug her pants down. Grins right back down at Angela. ] Not today, love. I want you just like this. I want to see your face... as I slide inside of you... how does that sound?

... Geez. If you say it like that, it's embarrassing.

[Angela's actually pouting, back up at her love. She's still got a bit of a baby face, even at her age - with her cheeks puffed out, she looks positively adorable.

It's hard for her to put too long, though, with Pukin's hands at her breasts, groping and playing at them, making her squirm with every proper grope. She's always sensitive to Pukin's fingers, her weighty chest an easy way to make her moan, whine with need. Her long blonde locks glide along the bed as tilts her hips, arches her back.]

Don't just say it... you're making me all wet, babe...

[Her hips squirm, and then she ducks her eyes away, nervous.]

Uh. I kind of wanted to do it this morning, too. But I thought I should get my work done, first...

[ That’s just the sort of woman Pukin is, to say things like that as bluntly as she does. Partially, she does it to see Angela pout and fluster. Pukin can’t help but lean forward and kiss at those same pouty cheeks on her lover’s baby face. She chuckles, and then, with her own pants tugged a bit down around her hips, starts to guide her hand between Angela’s thighs. ]

Oh? You say that like it’s a bad thing, Angela. [ Pukin says, very interested in Angela’s current state of wetness, and then hooks her finger around the elastic band of those little shorts to urge them down. ] Lift up for just a second, let me get these things off of you.

[ She begins to pull them down Angela’s thighs, her legs, and then runs her hands up the tops of Angela’s thighs, feeling her soft skin all the while. ]

You should have asked sooner, baby. You know I would have given it to you.

Mm, isn't waiting fun, though?

[She lifts up her legs as instructed, elbows flat on the bed, lifting her butt up off the bed as best she can - she's a programmer, not exactly flexible and fit - before falling back down, once they're far enough up her legs for Pukin to pull further.]

But I guess neither of us could hold out. You're the one that broke first, though. Hehe, that sexy?

It can be.

[ Her girlfriend is truly adorable, the way she plops back down on the bed once Pukin’s shimmies her shorts off of her body. ]

It’s quite hard sometimes, though. [ With Angela with her shirt pulled up over full breasts, and left only in those frilled pink panties, Pukin goes back to tend to herself. Her casual sweatpants are still only a bit a ways down her hips, and so she grabs them, and pulls herself out of them. Underneath, she’s got men’s boxers on, Pukin’s always been masculine. ] When you are, yes, that sexy.

[ Once she peels the sweatpants off her feet she goes for the boxers, and out pops her cock. She’s big, and hard, almost fully there but not quite. Either way, all of the kissing and feeling up Angela’s body had gotten her like this.

Pukin goes back in to kiss Angela again, mouth open to prod her with tongue, and she uses one hand to encourage Angela’s shirt up. ]

Arms up too, sweet. I want this off of you.

[Pukin's always been masculine, and Angela's always liked it - her eyes trail across those boxers, the noticeable tent in them, tongue flitting over her lips. She can hardly blame Pukin for being excited to undress her, for wanting sex, because -

Yeah. Because she's so thirsty for that dick, once she gets a good look at it. She halfway wants to suggest getting Pukin ready with her mouth, but while Pukin absolutely wouldn't say no, she does like the mood they have going right now. Plus she doesn't want to move. It's nice, being called sweet, having Pukin be the one stripping her.

She lifts her arms, as instructed, kisses back as her shirt's tugged up. Even with her breasts bare, they still somehow manage to bounce in response to her shirt being tugged off.]

No kidding about hard. [She lifts her leg, brushes her thigh once more across Pukin's legth - this time, it's skin on skin contact.]

I want this in me, so we're even, right? [One of her hands moves to Pukin's face, strokes her cheek - then pokes her. On the nose.]

You know, you totally ruined me for anything that wasn't stupidly huge.

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Basically, They're Married

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