Title: Konvwate-Hatian for Lust
Author: WaterDancer and Robin (ladyfiery)
Email: jch114@hotmail.com
; ladyfiery@hotmail.com
Feedback: We welcome it with wide-open arms. :)
Summary: Sequel to Appat. Prequel to Regen. After the restaurant, Will and
Francie go to his place. What happens there surprises them both.
Disclaimer: Not ours. :( If they were, they would be doing this on the show.
Distribution: CD is fine. All others please ask us first.
Rating: NC-17. Honest. No chance of an R. But we are calling it porn light.
Classification: Sweet Smut
A/N: (Robin) First and foremost, I want to thank Jenai for inviting me to
take part in her Wancie universe. While I love the Wancie on screen, I had
never written a story or even thought of one for them. I also want to thank
Jenai for inviting me to do this because I had to get over my fear of 1rst
person smut. Thanks a lot, Jenai! ;)
(Jenai) Thanks to Robin for doing the smut for me. I know it was hard for
you to do this, but the effort so paid off. Thank you so much for helping
me out. I do love the color blue! This is it for Wancie folks, for right now.
(Both)A big thanks to Amanda for the beta. However, she is not responsible
for a single mistake in this story. We won't share credit.
***
“I can’t believe you like 'An Affair to Remember’ ” I say to Francie as
I sit down next to her on the couch. Her scent surrounds me, and I realize
I should have sat down in the chair. It's too late now.
“It’s a cinematic classic. Not to mention Cary Grant was pretty hot,” she
says smiling.
“You think Cary Grant was hot?” Francie keeps revealing parts of herself
to me tonight; parts I never even believed existed.
“He was confident without being cocky, sexy without making me roll my eyes,
and he was really romantic.”
I think about all her boyfriends, including Charlie. “You like guys like
that? In real life?”
“I guess I do. I miss having a man sweep me off of my feet, telling me how
beautiful or breathtaking I am.” She looks over at me, and I think I see the
hint of a blush. “I’m probably boring you with this, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all. I find it interesting.” I want to know everything about
her. Besides, I need to think about anything except how incredible sexy she
looks in that dress.
“Really?” She scrunches up her nose, which by the way is really cute.
“Yes, really.” I lean in closer to her. I can feel the heat from her body.
“Go ahead with what you were saying." I try to say it smooth and confident
like Carrie Grant, but I think I failed.
She looks into my eyes and looks away. “Can we start the movie?” she murmurs.
I think I may have pushed it a little bit too hard. I just hope she doesn't
see the lust in my eyes. “Sure.” I find the remote control and start the movie.
*****
I can’t believe that I clammed up like that, when Will was trying to get
closer to me. What am I doing over here? The night could have ended with a
quick trip home after the restaurant, but no, I decide to come over here and
watch one of the most romantic movies ever made. What have I gotten myself
into?
What would Will have said if I told him that I thought that Cary Grant was
hot but not as hot as him? Why is it so warm in here anyway? He usually keeps
it freezing, but tonight it's so hot that I can hardly breathe. A sliver of
guilt nags at me. I should be thinking about Sydney and how she would feel
if she knew I was here. Alone. Watching a romantic movie. Sitting very close
to him. Then, I wonder if she would care. She should.
Taking a glance over at him, I can see him mouthing the words to the movie.
That’s so goofy, but in same breath it’s also very endearing. “I take it you’ve
seen this movie a few times.”
“More than a few,” he replies while still watching the movie.
Leaning my head from side to side, I try to ease the tension in my neck.
“Do you mind if I lay my head on your chest?” The words are out of my mouth
before I can stop them. Even in the low light, I can feel his eyes looking
right through me.
“Do I mind?" He sounds amazed. "Of course, I don’t. Let me put this down
on the floor, and then my shoulder is all yours.” As he reaches over me to
put popcorn on the floor, his eyes come in direct contact with mine. His arm
rubs across my bare leg, and I gasp. “Sorry.” He blushes. After straightening
out his shirt, he lifts his arm up. “Go ahead.”
“Thanks.” I hear his heart beating as I lay my head on his chest. I’m finding
this extremely comfortable, and I’m not even paying attention to the movie.
What I thought was going to a painful night has turned out to be the most
revealing. I didn’t think I would have to courage to tell Will what has been
on my mind lately much less kiss him the way I did. I also didn’t expect Will
to kiss me--that came right out of left field. I thought he loved Sydney,
but I can't help hoping that this night together is the beginning of more
to come.
******
I feel Francie relax against my chest, and I can barely watch the movie.
This night is turning out to be so different than I expected. I never would
have thought that Francie felt that way about me; I know she worried about
my feelings for Sydney, but she knows now that Sydney wasn’t even on my mind.
She hadn’t been on my mind in that way for a very long time, and especially
tonight since everything's changed between Francie and me. All for the better,
of course.
“Winter must be cold for those with no memories,” Deborah Kerr says to Cary
Grant as they stand on the deck of the ocean liner.
“That is one of my favorite lines in the movie,” she whispers as she snuggles
closer to my chest. I hope she can't hear how my heart is beating faster and
how shallow my breathing has gotten.
“Mine, too,” I reply, rubbing her arm with the tips of my fingers. Desire
stirs in me, but I try to ignore it. We're not even sure where we are heading,
yet. “It’s so obvious early in this movie that they had an attraction for
each other. They were trying to fight it, but it’s right there in front of
them.”
“It sounds like something that could happen in real life, don't you think?”
She says this as she pokes me in my side playfully. So when did tickling become
a turn on for me?
“I think it does.” I lean down and kiss her lightly on the lips. She smiles
up at me sweetly before turning back to the movie.
Will and Francie. Francie and Will. Wancie. My sister used to do that in
high school, combine her name with whatever guy she was interested in. I’d
never done it before, but there’s a first time for every thing. Wancie has
a nice ring to it. I’m acting like a middle school kid with her, and I like
the feeling.
*****
Will just kissed me again. Albeit it wasn’t a passion filled kiss; but it
was a kiss all the same. And the way he did it. He touched my cheek, leaned
in, and kissed me. My heart skipped a few beats and that worries me.
I’m scared. I don't know if he’s acting this way around me because Syd’s
not interested in him, or because he really feels something for me. I can’t
believe that I’m thinking about this. It's Will! But I think--I know I’m falling
in love with him, and that frightens me. The last time I was in love with
someone, it ended badly. I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
I am falling in love with Will, but I have to tread carefully. I can't tell
him. He might not care as much as I do. He might want to date but not be involved
in a serious relationship. I remember Jenny, the cheerleader from hell. If
this ends up being nothing, at least he’ll never know how much I do care
about him. We’ll still be friends, and everything will be the same.
I hope.
I feel my eyes tear up as the movie reaches the scene where Deborah tells
Cary Grant to meet her at the Empire State building, “The closest thing to
heaven in New York.” That scene gets me every time. I know what’s going to
happen in end, but that scene still gets me.
“Francie? You okay?” Will pauses the movie and looks down at me.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” I sit up, and rub my eyes. “I’m a big sap. It
always gets to me, the hope and the joy in her voice when she tells him where
to meet her. I’m sorry.”
He looks surprised by my apology. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to
get caught up in a movie. As often as I’ve seen this movie, there are certain
parts that still get me.”
“Like what?” It's sweet of Will to want to comfort me, to lessen my embarrassment,
but he doesn't have to do it.
“The end scene when Cary Grant comes to the realization that the woman who
brought the painting was Deborah, and that she’s the one who was crippled.
They both fill the screen with so much feeling using so few words. I'll admit
that I get slightly emotional at that scene.”
“You? I don’t believe it.”
“I do. Really.” He puts his hand up in the familiar Boy Scout's honor salute.
“I really do.”
His willingness to open up and tell me that he's a sap at movies, too, makes
me smile. I don’t remember when the last time I smiled so much on a date.
I pull him to me and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for telling me, Will.”
“You’re welcome, Francie.”
He looks at me intensely like he has something else to say or to do. “Will?
Now it’s my turn to ask. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I couldn’t be better.” He’s brushing my hair out of face. “I
just want to do this.” He pulls me closer and kisses me deeply. I almost
jump out of my skin. This kiss is different from the previous one, and the
one at the restaurant. It’s more confident, more passionate. I can hear the
movie starting back up but as he begins to kiss my neck. Then, I leave Cary
and Deborah to themselves.
***
I'm not sure how, but we are both now on the floor. Wanting to show her
how much I wanted her, how attracted I was to her, I kissed her harder and
more passionately than before, but I didn't expect us to end up with my shirt
unbuttoned and her fingers sliding through my chest hairs. This might be going
a little too fast.
"Um, Francie," I say against her lips. She presses her lips against mine
again, stopping me from saying anything else.
My earlobe is sucked in between her teeth. She starts nibbling on it, and
I moan. "Francie, I think I--"
She sits up and looks down at me. More of her hair has fallen loose and
is lying against the nape of her neck. Most of her lipstick is gone from
her swollen lips. She looks gorgeous. I reach up and let my fingers play
with her hair. It's silky against the tips of my fingers.
She leans back down, and I can feel her nipples pressing into my chest.
"Don't think," she says into mouth. "I'm tired of thinking." Her tongue slips
between my surprised lips before I can answer. Then, I can't be bothered
to think at all.
She drops kisses on my chin, my cheeks, my neck. They fall like rain drops
in a spring shower. They are gentle and smooth, cleansing and rejuvenating.
My lips caress her, worship her. "You are so beautiful," I tell her. My hand
strokes her face. "Perfect."
Something flashes in her eyes, but it is gone before I can make it out.
Her body becomes still over mine. "Am I?" she asks. Then, she grins and begins
kissing me again. The muscles in my stomach jump when I feel her hand sliding
past my abdomen. I feel and hear her working at the buckle of my belt. As
her kisses become more aggressive, she pulls out my belt from the loops of
my pants.
She begins pushing my arms up as she grinds her body into mine. I moan as
I kiss her again. Her lips are like nectar. I feel her hands wrapping around
my wrists. Gasping, I try to pull away from her suddenly tight grip. It is
then that I realize that she's used my belt to tie me to the leg of my coffee
table.
A stern look is on her face when she pulls away and looks down at me. "Don't
put me there, Will."
I pull at my hands and look up at them. "Put you where?"
She leans down and stares into my eyes. "On that damn pedestal!" Not having
a clue what she's talking about, I do know that she's very serious about it.
Sitting back again, she laughs. I feel the heat of her on the top of my crotch
and all the blood that abruptly left a moment ago comes flooding back. "You
don't even understand, do you?"
Shaking my head, I hope that she understands that I want to understand but
that I can't even figure out the right question to ask. "No, I don't."
Looking down at her hands, she begins using them to make invisible designs
on my chest. "Ever woman you date, Will, you put on a pedestal. The minute
you become interested in a woman, you see her as this perfect woman who has
no flaws. I know me, Will, and I know all my flaws. I won't be able to live
up to it, so don't put me there."
***
I can't believe I'm doing this. How did we end up here? One minute we were
watching the movie, the next Will was kissing me. A real kiss. The one that
makes your lips go numb from the electrical shock and makes your toes curl
in joy. The next thing I knew we were both on the floor, and I was unbuttoning
his shirt. So much for taking it slow, for being cautious. That's me. Throw-caution-to-the-wind
Francie.
I thought I had retired her after Las Vegas. There are some nights I wake
up in a sweat thinking about my recklessness there. If Sydney hadn't been
there, we would have been married. Throw-caution-to-the-wind Francie would
have been married to a lying, sleezy cheater. I hated her for a long time
before I finally accepted her. However, I thought I had reined her in; tonight
she's back.
I'm tired. Tired of worrying about Sydney. Tired of worrying about my friendship
with Will. I want to be a woman tonight. I want to be held by a man as a woman.
And I want Will to be that man. For one night, I'm going to enjoy this feeling.
Tomorrow can take care of itself.
Will's staring up at me. Did I really tie him to his own coffee table with
his own belt? I don't know what I was thinking. But then I'm not thinking
tonight, am I? Not anymore. I'm feeling. Existing in the here and now. I don't
want him to worship me. I want him to know me.
He starts laughing. "I do know you," he says as if he can read my thoughts.
"I know your flaws, too, Francie. You are beautiful. Your smile is perfect.
It's what I--I like most about you. But your temper can flare a little too
easy. You have been known to be reckless." He looks up at his hands. "And
quick to judge."
Smiling, I lean down and kiss him. "Yeah, maybe I am too quick to judge.
But I want to be beside you, Will, not above you."
He wiggles his eyebrows. "Are you sure about that?"
Laughing, I reach up to take off the belt. My fingers touch the soft leather,
but then I stop. Mild panic crosses Will's face when I grin. "No, I don't
think I will take it off, yet. I want some fun tonight."
He pulls at the strap. "I think I can give you fun with free hands."
"Later," I whisper into his ear. Then, I start to have fun.
***
I'm still in shock. She's actually going to keep me tied to my own coffee
table! I mean I can get up; the table's not that heavy. I don't have to stay
here, but looking at her, I know I will. I understand what she is saying,
but I also know that she's wrong. Yeah, I have a habit of worshipping the
women in my life, but that doesn't mean I don't see them as real people with
real faults.
For some reason, she needs me to see her naughty side. To see her in a different
light. I'm not sure I understand why, but I know I can enjoy this. I just
have to relax. As I feel myself sink deeper into the carpet, I realize that
I don't have any problem letting go of the tension. I trust her.
I gasp as her lips find my nipples. I look down and see that her dress has
risen to the top of her thighs. A hint of black silk taunts me as she shifts
her weight. Torture. That's what this is. Torture. I want to, no I yearn to
touch her, but I'm not allowed.
I moan as her tongue circles my belly button, but the ability to breathe
leaves me when she uses her teeth to unbutton and unzip my pants. Her hands
are hot irons on my side as she pulls my pants down my raised hips. She grins
suddenly, and I look down at myself. Everything looks normal--
"You wore all black except for your boxers," she tells me. Her hand caresses
me through the silk. "Bright blue. I like them."
She leans down and kisses me. Her tongue licks my lips, my teeth, and then
wraps itself around my tongue. It's a good thing she doesn't need me to talk,
because I think I've lost the ability to speak anyway. Pulling at my belt,
I hate it for keeping me from touching her.
My lips do what my hands are forbidden to do. They caress her. Her collarbone
is a work of art that I have to study, to touch, to feel. Her gasp of pleasure
sings in my ears. She pulls away and my lips mourn. Standing, she lifts up
her dress to her waist. Oh, my God. Her panties, what little there is of them,
are black silk trimmed in lace, held up with tiny bows tied at the sides.
My mouth waters and I feel the urge to eat again. I'm starving for her.
"I think I need to get these off, don't you?" she asks me in this incredibly
husky voice that shoots desire through my entire body. I've never heard that
voice before. "You'll have to help me. I have to use my hands to hold up my
dress."
I pull at my bound hands. "Francie, I--"
She leans over me, and the end of the bow tickles my lips. I might be slow,
but I'm not stupid. I wrap my tongue and lips around the small string and
tug. It falls apart with little effort. Her scent surrounds me, and I pray
that I won't embarrass myself. I'm still partially dressed and way too excited.
She stands. The front of her panties fall on the right side, allowing me
a glimpse of the hair hiding beneath. She keeps it trimmed, so I can see her
rich skin beneath it begging for my lips and tongue. I hear a whimper and
realize it is me. Damn, I hope she didn't hear it. The grin on her face as
the other string slips past my lips tells me that she did. And she liked it.
As the bow comes undone, I use my teeth to pull the panties off her body.
Now I can see all of her. I want to whimper again. Instead, I like my dry
lips. "Please."
"Please what, Will?" I can tell by the curve of her eyebrow that she doesn't
understand.
"Please let me taste."
I see a hint of a blush on her cheeks, and it is my turn to grin. She slowly
slides down on top of my face. I use all of my senses. Her heat touches me.
Her scent surrounds me. All I can see is her. Her small gasps are music for
my ears. Now, I'm going to taste her.
The nectar of the gods is a saying I've heard but never imagined. Nothing
on earth could taste that good. I was wrong. Francie does. I roll my tongue
around her swollen clit. She groans and throws back her head. I open my mouth
and scrape my teeth across it. Suddenly, her entire body tenses, her legs
squeeze at my head, and she screams.
She actually screamed!
***
I actually screamed!
I don't believe it. I'm not a screamer. I'm not even much of a moaner. Looking
down at Will's surprised face, I can't stop from laughing. A part of me, a
small part of me that believed Charlie's lies, has broken free. Sex with Charlie
was okay. Nothing to write home about, but not bad. However, when I confronted
him about his cheating, he said that I made him feel unmanly. He accused
me of being too cold.
I told myself that I didn't believe it. And my brain didn't. I mean how
many jerks have used that excuse throughout the centuries. "It's all your
fault, baby, that I can't keep my zipper zipped. I don't have any self control
because you've unmanned me." But a small sliver of doubt was created. I wondered.
There had been a lack of fantastic sex in my life before Charlie, and I was
afraid that I would never experience it--the kind of sex seen in the movies
and wrote about in books and magazines.
Now I know. It wasn't me. I just needed a man who knew how to treat me.
I lean down and kiss him. He is wearing a goofy grin of pride, but I don't
care. He's earned it. More than earned it. I start to kiss my way down his
body. He deserves his own treat. I stop at his cock and lick him through the
silk. He moans and lifts up his hips. Smiling, I lean down and start to blow
through the material. I reach up for the waistband, but his voice stops me.
"Don't, Francie!" I look at him. Hurt in spite of myself. "I-I won't be
a-able--" He shakes his head in frustration. "I-I want to be inside of you."
***
I stop at his words. A stray thought, one that should have occurred sooner,
runs through my mind. Charlie and all his women. "Do you have any protection?"
"Yeah," he says with a serious look in his eyes. It's like he knows what's
on my mind. "In the bedroom cabinet." He also knows that now is not the time
to talk about my ex-fiancé. Will Tippin has his moments of brilliance.
I race into his bedroom and find the box of opened condoms. I ignore the
flash of jealous that rushes through my body. With shaking hands, I grab a
packet and run back into the living room. I can see from the tent of Will's
boxers that he hasn't lost any of his enthusiasm while he waited.
***
Okay, I managed to survive her pulling off my boxers with her teeth. I even
survived the few licks she gave my cock before she opened up the condom. Now,
if I can just manage to last through her putting it on me, I might make it
without embarrassing myself. I can't believe how erotic this feels. The cool
latex in her warms hands sliding down my shaft is incredible.
When she begins to straddle me, I pull my hips away. "Don't," I say again.
She looks at me and waits for my request. "I want to see you. Please."
She looks down at her dress and then stands at my feet. She doesn't look
at me as she reaches back and unzips it. She stares at my toes as she lets
the dress land on the floor in a lacy heap. I again mourn the loss of my hands.
It's a crime that I cannot caress those tight nipples with my fingertips.
"You're beautiful," I tell her. She finally looks up and stares into my eyes.
I see doubt fight with belief. I see that her trust in me wins. She believes
me. She smiles and walks back over me.
Moist heat surrounds me.
***
He fills me, becomes a part of me.
***
We begin to move as one. For this brief moment in time, there is no him
or me. It is just us. We both work towards one common goal. Pleasure. We
come at the same time. She grabs my chest. He lifts me off the floor with
a final large thrust. Neither one of us breathes as the world slowly starts
to rotate again.
***
"If you can paint, I can walk," she is telling him on the television. How
long I've lain here in a stupor, I can't say. My brain was fried from the
most incredible sex I've had in my entire life. I'm male; I can use that excuse.
I pull my hands from the belt. It had loosened enough earlier for me to
get out, but I wouldn't do it. No matter how much I wanted to, and after
that experience I should be glad that I was so smart. She grins when my arms
go around her, holding her closer to my chest. "That was--"
"Amazing," she says, finishing my sentence.
I reach up, grab the remote and flick off the DVD player and TV. My muscles
and bones tell me that they are no longer enjoying the floor. "Let's go to
bed," I tell her as I yawn. She stiffens in my arms, and I'm afraid that I
made a mistake. "I'll take you home if you want," I offer. The words somehow
slipped past the aching hole in my chest.
"No," she finally says as she sits up. She looks at me and then reaches
up and runs her fingers through my forelock. "Sydney's not due back until
the afternoon. And neither one of us has to go to work tomorrow."
I can see the fear in her eyes. She still doesn't know where we are headed,
and I wish I could tell her, but I don't know either. I know what I want,
but is it the same as what she wants?
She pushes herself up and she remains seated next to me. Standing, I reach
down and offer to help her up. I pull her into my arms and kiss her again.
Slow and steady like I want our relationship to be. I want this to last. I
want a hot fire; not a flaming flash that leaves more smoke than anything
else.
Putting her hand on my chest, she pushes herself away from me. "Tomorrow's
another day," she says. "Let's get into that bed."
Spinning on her heels, she starts heading for my bedroom. I can't help but
enjoy the view from behind. A certain tired part of my body tells me that
I should not be using that bed for only sleeping tonight. I try to remind
it that I am a gentleman. Then, she looks over her shoulder and the twinkle
in her eyes tell me that she doesn't want a gentleman tonight. Laughing, I
follow her. I should have invited her out for sushi a long time ago.