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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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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