Author: Anne Marsh
Title: Love of a Lifetime, Reuniverse, sequel to Mamma Mia!
Rating: Soft R
Summary: Time to get this show on the road...
Notes: Sam POV. Partially inspired by the Rob-licious desktop wallpaper a friend made me...
Love of a Lifetime by Anne Marsh
That Friday was like the one day of work that made up for all the slack I'd gotten after coming out. Made up for it and more. It was long, and grueling, and included an impromptu debate on the issue of gay marriage with one Senator, two State Senators, and the Governor.
I didn't get home until midnight, and when I slipped in, I saw a dim light from the living room. Josh was balled up on the sofa, the lamp casting its light over his bare feet, toes curled.
A note lay in his hand-- I removed it gingerly and looked over a list of names and numbers. For a moment, I thought it was just work stuff, and then I saw that one of the numbers was for a 'Dream Weddings'. The list was labeled 'planners'. With a soft sigh and a smile, I brushed the hair back from his forehead and pressed a kiss there.
His eyes fluttered open, and he smiled warmly up at me. "Sam... you just get home?"
"You eat yet?"
"Yeah, I ate on the road."
"Okay. 'Cause I could make you a sandwich if you were still hungry."
"I'm fine." I pulled him up. "C'mon, love... let's get ready for bed. I'm exhausted."
Evening ablutions thus completed, Josh turned back the covers and waited for me to climb in. He followed me under and tucked the covers around us, kissing me softly.
"You get your rest, babe." He whispered. "We can talk about anything and everything in the morning, now you need some sleep."
I was too tired to put up any resistance there, and he held me in his arms, my head on his Josh-scented pillow.
When I woke, it was in the most perfect of circumstances-- I was curled around Josh, and he around me, in the just-too-warm cocoon of our blankets. You know how winter nights-- and even in Orange County, they can get chilly, a fact that surprised Josh, no matter how many times I'd warned him-- anyway, on winter nights, as you're going to sleep, it's cold, and you pile on blankets, and you snuggle down deep. And then when you wake up in the morning, all the body heat and blanket-warmth has just built up-- my body heat *and* Josh's-- and even though it's cold outside, inside the blankets, you're just warm enough for a light sweat to build. And so we were warm and gently stuck together, soft glow between us, and Josh turned further into me to nuzzle my ear.
"Morning." He mumbled, voice throaty with the early hour. I felt an extra stab of arousal go through me, and it didn't escape his attention. "Hey... can I interest you in a little first-thing tumble?"
"You can interest me in anything you want, you know that." I replied, and he rolled me onto my back, kissing and nipping at my neck.
"Mm, Sa, you taste so good..." I could feel his smile, wide and wicked against my skin. "Sam, I could get addicted here... you're *so* hot... and *so* good... you. *taste*. so. good..."
He stretched every word out, licked my throat between. I moaned and bucked against him, helpless and he knew it, and oh, but I love being helpless beneath this man... Josh rolled his hips against mine, bit down on my shoulder just hard enough to leave a soft mark, and I felt the muffled sob he hid there. My hands travelled his back, long strokes and desperate clutches coming erratically until I felt wet heat spread over my belly and a lassitude took my limbs. Above me, Josh stiffened, slumped. Perfect timing.
We kissed with lazy hunger, still wanting each other's mouths, but so physically content from what had come before. That beloved tongue, more famed for its sharpness, was sweet against the inside of my lip, soothing a spot I'd gnawed the night before.
"So." He yawned, and I followed. "I guess yesterday was pretty big business, huh?"
"Yeah." I stroked his hair. "Pretty big."
"You feel rested enough?"
"Josh, it hasn't been two *minutes* since we--"
He laughed. "I meant from work. Not that I don't appreciate your vote of confi--"
"Oh!" I blushed. "Yeah, I feel great."
"I made a list of wedding planners last night, but I haven't called any yet."
"We can do that today. I just need to run some reports over, and then I'm all yours."
"Run 'em over where?"
"Just in Orange." I promised. "I'm in Sacramento Tuesday for a follow-up meeting, but the reports don't go any further than Eleanor's desk, and then we've got the weekend."
"Great." His head fell back to my shoulder. "Mm... If I wasn't so comfortable, I'd ask you to join me in a shower. But I think I just wanna get stuck together like this."
"It's not airplane glue, Josh." I rolled my eyes. "Come on, let's have that shower... the sooner I get the files in, the sooner I'm all yours..."
The bribe worked. Josh was tugging me into the shower in an instant, eager under the warm water as his hands soaped my body with familiarity born of so many intimate nights... and days...
I did the same, and before too long, we were meeting in an exaltant clash of mouths, my hand on his reawakened hardness as he caressed me, fed the ardor with touches too good to be legal.
Well, the touches themselves were legal, here, but our upcoming nuptials are a battle I'm still working on. Josh didn't let me dwell on less pleasant thoughts for long, though, his strokes coming faster, his grip tighter, and soon we were supporting ourselves and each other against the wall, trembling, arms loosely wrapped around waist or shoulders.
Josh turned up the heat as the water cooled, and shampooed my hair. When he was finished, I returned the favour, running my fingers through the just-too-long mop of dark red, even when it was no longer necessary.
With the water running down our faces, we kissed once more. Josh pulled back with a grin, a sparkle in his eyes that could only be half-explained by crystalline drops clinging to his lashes.
"That was like kissing in the rain..."
"Only, naked." I added.
I only turned off the water and grabbed his towel. "Dry off. What's on your plate today?"
"A couple phone calls. I can do that while you're running the reports over. I'm back in the office on Monday, but I have the weekend... Wow. I remember when I *never* had a whole weekend!"
"Josh... 'always' and 'never' are two words--"
"--you should always remember never to use." He grinned, finishing the grammatic epithet. "Yeah, yeah. You're cute, Professor, real cute." He touched my nose.
I towelled off, aware of his frequent appreciative glances, treating them with a knowing smile and a shake of my head. Finally, he curled a hand around the back of my neck.
"You're just out of the shower... you know what that does to me?" He growled.
"Apparently, it makes you want to necessitate another one." I raised an eyebrow.
"Makes me want this..." He leaned in, bypassing my lips, instead sucking my earlobe into his mouth. He released me, and stood back. "You had a drop. Of water. Threatening to fall. I had to catch it."
"Oh." I said, as though anything Josh said ever made sense, especially when I was naked.
"Here's another one..." He lapped at my chin, then smiled at me. "Okay, now I can behave. Temptation's gone-- Well, okay, it's never *gone*, but... I can be good, I promise."
"Good." I tapped the end of his nose, as he'd done earlier. "Because I seriously have to finish drying off and put some clothes on, so I can go to work, so we can find a wedding planner."
Josh went to the closet and pulled on a t-shirt and sweatpants-- no underwear, I noticed. He shot a grin at me. "I'll be ready for you when you get home."
I had no idea if he meant ready to jump me in the entryway and ditch the sweatpants before we reached the stairs, or dressed and ready to go. I decided that finding out would be interesting.
Josh was dressed, casually, and didn't exactly molest me when I came through the door. Instead, he kissed my cheek warmly, and then, once I had my jacket off, my lips.
"Okay. Where do you want to start? Should we call first?"
"Sure." I grabbed my cell. "You start at the bottom of the list on the house phone, and I'll start at the top, and we can check them off as we finish."
"Why do I start at the bottom of the list?" He challenged.
"Do you want to start at the top?"
"Nah." He shrugged. "I just felt like being difficult for a minute."
"Josh, you're difficult for more than a minute." I ruffled his hair. "I love you, you know that?"
I snorted and began dialing.
"Yeah, baby?" I smiled softly.
"Love you, too." He squeezed my hip.
After the phone calls, we spent a few minutes curled up on the sofa, just enjoying some quiet time alone. Josh put on one of my CDs-- the weepy one.
"Picked this one..." He sighed, holding me to his chest. "I was thinking about the night before..."
His voice had trailed off uncomfortably there. Before Rosslyn, I translated.
"I had been thinking about it. I was going to tell you, how much I needed you. I-- I was gonna beg."
"You don't beg." I pointed out.
"Babe, when it comes to you..." He sighed.
"As I remember, you didn't need to beg. I said it first."
"But I was *going* to. Before I-- it happened. That day, I was thinking about... how much you meant to me. More than anyone else ever has, and how-- How I'd just do anything, for you. I hung back, at the end, because I got nervous all of a sudden. I wanted things to be perfect, I wanted to be sure I had the words right, and I'm not the word guy, so..."
"You do fine." I told him.
He turned the stereo off when the song ended, and I lifted my eyebrows.
"The next one's about something different." He shrugged. "I just wanted you to get the story behind that one. It's--"
"Josh, I *knew* the story behind that one. It was-- a declaration."
"A declaration of dependance?" He joked.
"Of love." I whispered, turning to run my fingers through his hair. "Planners, babe. Which was your favourite?"
"I just plain crossed off the ones I didn't like." He grabbed the list. Some entries were scratched off by big, angry lines. "I don't know... See, that one seemed *okay*, but... 'Dream Weddings' was a total crock."
Homophobic, I decoded.
"Let's go check out this one." I pointed to one of mine. "Cate Nelson, who specializes in gay weddings. You up for a drive? It's only West Hollywood."
"Honestly, Sam, I don't actually know how far that is."
"Well... Saturday afternoon... it might take us an hour or so, but that's really all about the traffic."
"She specialized in gay weddings?"
"That's what she said."
"Eh, I'm game. Buy me lunch?"
"Tell you what, we'll go to Lucy's-- the place CJ was telling us about. I've never been there, and I know you haven't, and she definitely spoke well of them."
Josh nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a light jacket and his wallet. Doing the same, I followed, pausing momentarily when Josh doubled back to grab a CD.
"Driving music." He waved it at me. "You'll be driving, of course. I don't know how to get to West Hollywood. Or any other part of Hollywood, for that matter. Is there a difference?"
"West Hollywood is LA's Castro District, their Chelsea, their-- you get the picture."
"Ah. Then you can buy those leather pants I've been wanting you t--"
"I'm not walking into a sex shop and buying leather pants." I sighed. "I promise, for Hallowe'en, I'll buy whatever pants you want, but I am not walking into a West Hollywood leather shop on February third and requesting a pair of leather pants."
We hopped into the car, and 'It's Still Rock and Roll To Me' started up a moment later. Josh slipped his sunglasses on and flashed me a brilliant, dimpled grin, and we were off.
Cate Nelson was a short woman in a pinstriped suit, red hair piled messily on top of her head, a black flower holding it all precariously together. When the bell above the door tinkled, she looked up at us like a bunny staring at an oncoming Toyota Highlander-- concerned, but unclear on the concept of 'run away'. Of course, running from clients is generally a bad idea, but her armload of file folders might've had something to do with her discomfort-- she was stuck between a table and a filing cabinet, fabric samples slowly slipping from under her elbow.
"Here, let me help." I caught them, and she relaxed visibly, going to the cabinet and depositing everything into an open, empty drawer marked 'SORT LATER'.
"Thank you! Oh! You're new, I should-- with the helping..." She scrambled back behind a little service counter. "Welcome to 'Love of a Lifetime Wedding Planners', I'm Cate Nelson, I'm the co-owner and wedding-- designer, person."
"Sam Seaborn, we talked on the phone."
"Oh." Another sigh, and she re-relaxed a little. "I'm sorry about the-- thing, we're-- today has been-- We lost a DJ, at the last minute, and... Oh! But it's the only time anything like *that* has ever happened, and it's only because he had appendicitis! We're very-- We do good work, Mr. Seaborn."
"Sam." I smiled. "Please. This is Josh Lyman, my fiance. We're interested in perhaps doing business with you-- now, this is the first place we've come to, but some of the other planners we spoke with were less than thrilled with the idea of doing a large same-sex wedding, so we thought we'd start here."
"Well, please, come sit down." She motioned us both to a small seating area, with plush velvet armchairs and a leapord-print lounge. She took one of the chairs, and Josh and I took the lounge, sitting knee-to-knee and holding hands.
"Nice." Josh nodded, eyeing the place.
"Senator Sam Seaborn?"
"State Senator." I nodded.
"I was at the rally where you came out. That was a beautiful speech!"
"Sam wrote speeches for President Bartlet." Josh bragged.
"Wow. I've never done a wedding for anyone so-- I mean... Well, it started as us just doing weddings for friends and relatives, and even with real clients, I've never-- Oh, boy, I'm making a fool of myself, aren't I?"
"Not at all. I do that myself, sometimes." I soothed.
"My grandmother voted for you." Cate nodded. "She lives in Orange County, she's very politically aware."
"Tell your grandmother thank you." I smiled. "So, tell me about your-- thing."
"Well, I do the design part of the planning, working with the couples and getting the creative side of things ironed out. My partner Monique does the organizing part, making sure things stay on track-- Business partner, not life partner, but people think that all the time, two women planning gay weddings. I'm doing it again, aren't I? I always babble when I get nervous..."
"It's okay. So... you're a small business?"
"Very small. It's Monique and I, and a couple friends who do some part-time work with us, during the wedding season."
"There's a season?" Josh quirked one eyebrow.
Cate nodded earnestly. "Oh, yes. It can get quite hectic. Now, when do you plan on getting married?"
"As soon as we can get everything together. We don't-- we're not set on any particular date."
"All right, well it's good you're flexible. Would you like to see a portfolio? We've done a variety of different types of weddings, both gay and straight, and I have sketches and pictures from some of them. We do everything from venue to cake to dresses to reception, to finding the right clergy!"
"We'd love to see a portfolio." I stood, taking Josh's elbow.
Cate led us to a table and spread out some pictures. "Here we have a theme wedding-- I tell you, I wish it were mine!" She laughed.
The grooms were both dressed in renaissance garb, swords at their sides, in a very gothic cathedral-esque setting, heraldic tapestries hung from the ceiling. The reception was outdoors, with big tents, and they cut a large, traditional-looking cake with a big broadsword.
"Here, the couple met doing renfaire-- I think it started when they were re-enacting the Battle of Hastings together, playing on opposite sides, and as the faire season went on, they found themselves falling in love. They wanted a wedding that would reflect their story."
I liked it-- it certainly wasn't what I wanted for us, but the thought that went into it made for something beautiful.
"This one isn't so much themed," She brought out the next folder, spreading out cake pictures and dress designs, and some location shots. "Outdoors, with a lot of white and pink rose topiary, gauzy fabric, and fairy lights. The brides, I believe, were inspired by a garden party from a film they'd been watching."
The cake was in pink and white, with icing piped so fine it looked like lace. I didn't look at the dresses much-- they were old- fashioned elegant, but nothing I could see myself in. Josh caught me glancing at one of the designs and snickered softly, same idea running through his head.
"I think we should go with tuxes, honey." He said, elbowing me lightly.
I liked the outdoor venue-- the wedding took place at an altar set up in a gazebo, and the reception was in the evening, the strings of lights turned on.
"What do you think?" I asked, tapping the photo.
"Too many roses." Josh wrinkled his nose critically. "Not my thing. I thought the sword from the last one was cool-- we could cut our cake with a sword."
"We'll think about it." I told him flatly.
He grinned at me, in a way that said he didn't intend to push the sword issue, but had hoped to get a little reaction out of me.
Cate brought out another small folder. "This one was a fairly traditional wedding, with a hotel reception. My aunt." She tapped a picture of a beaming bride.
"Oh, this is nice..." I perused the pictures. Big cake, no topper-- another photo showed a ceramic Cinderella and Prince Charming frozen in a waltz, sitting just to the side of the cake. There were pictures of the food, of the church-- nice, warm, not too big or too small, I suppose. It wasn't themed, but it was well co-ordinated-- all the members of the wedding party wore the same colours, as did the guestbook attendants, and those colours were repeated in the decor.
"Mm." Josh nodded. "We'd have different colors, though."
"Well, yes, I suppose we would. And fewer dresses."
"Oh, this one was a nice one!" Cate laid out the next wedding-- two young men in soft grey tuxedos, old-fashioned cut. They had top hats and tails, and deep royal purple cravats and pocket squares. The wedding was out-of-doors, on a hilltop somewhere, girls in empire-waist dresses and other men in old fashioned tuxes, it all looked very Edwardian. The reception was in a ballroom, all velvet and crystal. Something about the whole thing brought the word 'Wildean' to mind.
"That is nice." I murmured, taking Josh's elbow. "I like those tuxedos. Maybe something like that?"
"Those are both Ralph Lauren, Purple Label." Cate nodded. "We have the catalog here, if you're interested. You may find something you like even more, several designs fit that general feel, a lot of similar styles."
"We could look at the catalog." Josh nodded. He found a picture of the cake-- elaborate and white, and with two little grooms on top. "Hey, I like it."
"We should have a ballroom for our reception."
"Really? I know you were looking at the outdoors ones, you liked that kind of thing."
"I did, but you aren't so big on the outdoors thing. Besides, if we could get *that* ballroom? That's gorgeous."
"It is. It's very nice. I'm sure everyone would approve."
"Let's look at the rest before we make up our minds."
"Sure." He squeezed my hand.
She laid out the next-- a hippie wedding, all out-of-doors, with a crazy cake, patchwork icing in bright colours, and the guests eating on picnic blankets, the bridesmaids in batiked sarong dresses, the bride in a dress that looked like a white nightgown, groom in a tie-died tie and cummerbund.
All the guests had blown bubbles instead of throwing rice-- I approved of that, actually, because some thrown rice can be harmful to birds-- and the officiator looked liks some sort of lama. It *definitely* wasn't the wedding for us, but it was kind of fun to look at.
"You guys have a lot of range." Josh commented.
Cate blushed and nodded. "We sure try."
The next wedding was very fairy-tale. One bride wore a white gown that sparkled with seed pearls, sleeves big enough to smuggle fox terriers, and a skirt you could hide several small children under. The other bride was dressed in a white-and-gold military-looking suit, with epaulets, stripes down the pantsleg, and even some fake medals. The first bride had a tiara fixing her veil in place, the second had a delicate crown. There was a horse and carriage-- all white, and a cake shaped like a castle. And if I wasn't mistaken, they were married in front of Sleeping Beauty's Castle, in Disneyland.
I looked back over the others to check the modes of transportation-- the first wedding, the renfaire couple, had them riding off into the sunset on horseback. The garden party wedding had a Rolls Royce. The traditional couple, Cate's aunt, rode in a PT Cruiser, the Edwardians I had liked so much had a black carriage, the kind you saw in Central Park. The hippies had a VW bus.
Cate laid out the final wedding-- the venue had been the Paramount lot, food catered from the couple's favourite restaurants, the cake was topped with Scarlett and Rhett, the grooms had been immaculate in white tie, top hat, and tails. They had a stretch limousine, and a big band doing old standards and a lot of film themes.
"Theme wedding." She said. "Hollywood Romance. Both film buffs-- they live and work here in town-- Steve is a Key Grip, and Terry is a Paramount studio tour guide."
"Cool." Josh nodded. "Sam, I'm guessing you don't want to get married at work?"
I laughed. "No. Not right now... oh, boy, can you *imagine* the trouble that could cause?"
"Well, let's find that ballroom for our reception." He found my favourite. "But I'd rather have a limo-- not so much big on horses, either."
"Sure." I kissed his temple. Cate made an 'aww' noise.
"Sorry." She blushed. "It's just-- Couples always get me. I think it's so cute, two people in love."
"Well, we're certainly in love." Josh grinned.
"And certainly people." I added, making them both laugh.
"Sam, I think we should go with this place."
"Well, do you want to see any others first?"
"Nah-- I mean, if you do."
"Well..." I said hesitantly. "To be fair... But I'm sure we'll come back here again."
Cate was grinning ear to ear as she shook our hands. "It was wonderful meeting you both, and I do hope you decide to go with us."
"We'll definitely get back to you." I nodded. "Lunch, Josh?"
"Sounds good. See ya!" He waved back to her as we headed on out the door. As it closed behind us, I turned to him with a wry grin.
"If that girl is straight, you've added a new member to your little fan club."
"Hey, my fan club isn't little. And I can't help it if girls find me inherently charming. They usually get over it once they get to know me."
We got into the car, and Josh turned the volume up on MeatLoaf's 'Lawyers, Guns, and Money' as we headed for Lucy's.
"Wow." Josh looked down at his burrito.
"We can get boxes."
"I can eat the whole thing." He asserted.
"You'll make yourself sick."
"So. What's next?"
"I think the next closest is 'Marriage of Convenience'-- I *really* don't like their name so much..." I shook my head. "We could skip that one and go on to Frances Carpenter in Orange."
"No cute name?"
"Nope, just one Frances Carpenter. Why, what do you have?"
"Eh. Julie Whitehead and Eileene Chappelle, also both in Orange."
"We could do those today, and-- just those. I don't want a whole bunch of options we don't need."
"And I *liked* the one we went to today. But I guess we could look at--"
"Let's not." I sighed. "I didn't like Frances too much on the phone."
"Great." He dusted his hands together and grabbed his fork. "No more nonsense, we've got a planner!"
"Right." I smiled, my own fork hovering above my oversized burrito. I love that man-- nothing in particular to prompt it, but I love that man...
We were lying in bed that night, Josh wrapped lazily around me, his forehead against my shoulder. I turned, pressing a kiss to his hair, and he looked up, eyes huge and bright in the dark of our room.
"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?"
"Impromptu." I commented.
"Come on. Just-- pick something. What have you always wanted to see, that you've never seen?"
"Well... a lot of places, I guess. I mean, I'd love to see the world, all of it." I mused, looking up at the ceiling.
"Thinking honeymoons? Because I am so not committing to anything concrete based on what I say this second."
"I'm not thinking anything, I just want to know. C'mon, I promise there will be no long-term... things. Ramifications. Just pick someplace, and make me happy."
"Italy." I laughed, and kissed him, my tongue making soft explorations. "Did that make you happy?"
"Oh, yeah. Italy, huh?"
"Venice." I clarified. "Well, okay, and Tuscany, and Rome, and Naples, but Venice most of all."
"Yeah. It just seems all romantic, and when it's Carnivale, there are masquerades and fireworks, and you take the canals everywhere-- I've always wanted to ride in a real gondola."
Josh chuckled and leaned up to kiss me. "Ah, my Sam... he's so cute."
"Yeah. I bet he's way cuter than *your* fiance." He challenged, biting back a grin.
"Is not. My Josh is the cutest guy in this room."
"Yeah, right. If I was lying, wouldn't my pants be on fire?" I was *almost* laughing.
Then, Josh's hand cupped over my groin, and I wasn't laughing anymore.
"Mmm, sure feels like they are to me..." He murmured, breath hot on my neck as he kneaded my swelling erection. "You sure about that, Mister? These pants feel *hot*..."
"Okay." I moaned, ditching my pajama bottoms-- wondering why I'd bothered to put them on at all-- and grinding against Josh.
At some point, he'd also stripped waist-down, and now our hips rocked together, and his fingers nimbly undid my buttons, and I was naked, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt.
That disposed of, our mouths met again, his tongue invading, possessing, and in short, making me feel ten million kinds of incredible.
I felt about ten million more when his hand skimmed up my ribcage, then back down, heel pressing firm into my flesh, sliding over my hipbone, finding my aching arousal...
Josh spread his legs, bringing himself into closer contact with me, taking us both into the grip of one strong hand. I was panting, chest heaving, clinging to his shoulders as I let my mouth be plundered. He owned me, poured himself into me, took a part of me into himself, gave his heart and soul to me all over again, and came with a stifled cry across my chest.
"I love you." He gasped, kissing the corner of my mouth and sliding off me.
"Love you." I echoed, finding his hand with mine. "You were incredible, you know?"
"Mm." His head resumed its rest upon my shoulder.
"Guess how incredible you were," I smiled, turning to nuzzle the top of his head.
"Mm." He turned into me, one arm flopping across my chest. I stroked his ribs lightly, a soft chuckle escaping me, and he 'mm'ed again.
"You were so incredible, that when I was thinking, about all the *marvelous* things you were doing to me, I made a grammatical error and I hardly even noticed it."
"You made a grammatical error?" He squinted up at me.
"In my internal monologue."
"Sam, you're not a real human being. You can't be." He smiled against my skin.
"Everyone has an internal monologue." I defended. "All the time-- yes, even in bed, because it's where I keep thinking things like 'Josh has a huge cock', and 'I'm the luckiest man on earth', and 'Ooh, I hope he uses his tongue soon'."
Josh laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes. "That's how your internal sex monologue goes?"
"Well, no. Sometimes. I do that luckiest man thing a lot, even when we're not having sex.
"What about my cock?"
"It's huge, Josh." I laughed. "Mammoth. You're hung like a Tom of Finland drawing. I find it both intimidating and arousing."
"You're mocking me!" We were both laughing now, sitting up in the centre of our bed. "You're mocking me, and you're mocking my cock!"
So I laughed even harder, because I doubt he meant to rhyme. "I'm not-- I'm not mock-- mocking-- I'm not mocking your cock!" I gasped, falling against him.
"So. How does your internal sex monologue go?"
"Well, when I'm not thinking about how much I love and would never mock your-- your impressive genitals--"
He snorted and ruffled my hair, with his non-sticky hand.
"Oh, you know, it's just-- Well, like 'Josh is kissing me', and 'now he's touching me here', you know, standard narrative." I blushed. "Well, I mean, I can-- I can wax poetic from time to time."
"You don't want to hear it-- it's just-- I mean, it's inside my brain, unedited, just-- thoughts."
"I'm interested in your unedited thoughts."
"But it's-- when you make love to me, I get all purple prose-y, and... If I tell you, you're just gonna think I sound like a bad romance novel."
"Nah." He petted my chest gently. "I wouldn't think that about you. If you really don't want to tell me, you don't have to. I mean, it's not like it's important, I just thought since you brought it up... But hey, I made you make a grammatical error? That is pretty good."
"If I tell you the grammatical error, you have to tell me a part of your internal sex monologue." I smiled slyly.
"Okay, here goes; 'came with a stifled cry across my chest'. Because, the stifled cry wasn't what was across my chest, it was-- well, *you* know what it was."
"That wasn't a full sentence."
"I don't remember the full sentence. It was gooey, I remember that much. Something about heart and soul and your tongue in my mouth."
"Okay... well, when we were-- you were-- the part where you-- See, the one thing I remember thinking was that--"
"Say it like it was when it went through your head."
"His hands run down my back like he can't find a hold on me, nails scraping the skin, and he has no idea how hot that gets me."
"Does it?" I blushed.
"Oh, yeah. Every time." He kissed my collarbone, seven times, from one shoulder to the other. Then he slipped out of bed and came back with a damp cloth, cleaned us off. "Good thing we already brushed our teeth-- now I can keep you with me until morning."
"You can keep me a little longer than that." I stretched, caught a hungry look flicker past his eyes before I settled down and he climbed into bed and rolled me to rest against his chest.
"I will, then." He kissed my hair, hands soothing my shoulderblades and pulling the covers up over my naked back.
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