Who: Greg and Phee When: late March, afternoon Where: school, Greg's house Warning: NSFW Status: complete
It had been roughly two months since Brianna had disappeared. Phee both felt like that was no time at all and that she’d felt every single second as an eternity. It was a weird place to be in. Never in her young life had she felt so useless and frustrated, not even when other things had gone wrong in the town and with her family. There was just ... nothing they could do. James had tried everything in his power to find a fix, but everything the coven had tried had failed. Phee had asked the Castells over and over if they could help early on, but they said they couldn’t. So many other people had lost someone too, and they were all gone. As the days ticked on and spring bloomed in Point Pleasant, Phee felt her hope slipping away. It had been so long, was there even any chance that her mother was still alive over there? She didn’t think so. She was caught in some limbo between desperately wanting her back at any cost and starting to accept that she was gone. The intensity of her emotions about it all had surprised Phee at first, since she and her mom had never really been that close, but she felt almost consumed by the sadness and anger that had settled into her life.
Things at home weren’t helping. After Brianna had been gone for a couple of weeks, James’s mother had moved into the house to ‘help with the kids.’ It had really turned into her being their housekeeper and making toothless threats when Bash and Phee stayed out too late. Phee was even less close with her grandmother than she’d been with Brianna, and since James was hardly ever around to back grandma up on the discipline, she’d been mostly trying to ignore the woman. It just made her want to avoid being home as much as possible.
The only person who’d been pretty wonderful about it all had been Greg. He was a rock for both her and Sebastian, and Phee was pretty sure she would have lost her mind already without him. She knew it couldn’t be easy for him, dealing with all of their grief, and Phee had actually tried to push him to break up with her once when she was really upset, but he’d stayed steady for her. She was beyond grateful, it was just so hard to show anything but hurt lately.
When the final school bell rang that Friday afternoon, Phee stopped by her locker and then headed for Greg’s to find him so they could walk to the parking lot together. She’d been going home with him a lot lately, in spite of her grandma’s bitching about it, and tonight she intended to do the same. It was the weekend now, so maybe she would even spend the night, if he was okay with it. She just wanted to be where she felt good, and Greg’s basement was pretty much the only place left.
Greg had struggled more with everything than he let on, he hadn't really known any of the people who disappeared personally but he'd seen one of those damn portals and the thought of being stuck on the other side was anxiety inducing. He couldn't even say it was like a nightmare because those were harmless in the end, people woke up from nightmares. His best friend and his girlfriend had been hit hard by the event and he'd watched them change before his very eyes. There was an edge to both of them that hadn't been there before, the kind that came with sadness and trauma. He half expected Phee to dye her beautiful red hair black and start wearing spiked collars and while admittedly that could be hot, he was worried about her.
Being pushed away had sucked the most, there'd been a time - a brief one, thankfully - where he didn't understand what she was doing. He wasn't always the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to people's feelings and when he thought she wanted to end the relationship he'd been hurt and disappointed. But it was the insistence that he should end the relationship that slowly turned the lightbulb on in his head and now it had become a stubborn thing, not going anywhere. He'd even joked about how she'd be in trouble if she wanted to break up for real one day but he was pretty sure he could tell the difference by now. Or fuck, he hoped he could, or at least he hoped Phee wouldn't start doing that again because he wasn't sure he could handle it.
The last week had been nice at least, she'd been spending nights at his place which was awesome and kind of nicely domestic at times - waking up together, going to school together, he kind of wanted every day to be like that and it put stupid and romantic ideas in his head about one day getting a house together. Unnecessary since he practically had his own apartment in his parents' basement but still.
He was busy grabbing the books he needed to take home from his locker when he spotted Phee out of the corner of his eye and turned to make sure it was her. He'd found that being the rock was kind of nice, even if he didn't always feel like he was, but being seen as the solid and comforting part of someone's life made him feel better too and he revelled in the role, radiating warmth her way as she approached. "Hey babe," he murmured, putting the books aside for now to reach out and pull her into a kiss. "How are you holding up?"
Phee had been hooked on Greg before, of course, but what she felt now was a whole different level. She felt like she absolutely needed him or she would crumble to pieces. Maybe that wasn’t healthy, but she couldn’t care at this point in her life. She could just be grateful that he was there for her. Phee felt a few degrees better as she wrapped her arms around his solid body and squeezed, tilting her face up into the kiss before she answered. “I’m okay, besides like, Mrs. Matthews being a total bitch in geometry.” Phee huffed and rolled her eyes, then pulled away from Greg so he could finish getting his stuff. She was ready to be headed home. “Is it cool if I stay over tonight?” she asked, tucking her thumbs into her backpack straps. Phee felt a little lame asking, but she was trying to remember that he might not always want her around. She was moodier now, and she knew she brought him down sometimes, even if he tried not to let her see it. She had to remind herself that Greg deserved his own time too. It was just hard not to cling to him.
"I love it when you spend the night, yeah, duh," Greg replied with a little grin. She wasn't wrong, it could be hard being with her sometimes just like hanging out with Bash could suck but that was normal because there was still a fresh wound there and he wasn't some fairweather asshole who couldn't put up with it. At least he didn't want to be and that had to count for something. Most of the time they just lounged around and watched movies and he liked to think he was making it easier for her to let go and forget, even if it was just for a few minutes at a time. "Let me just finish packing these up, I'm like actually going to do homework this weekend. Or you know, I'm telling myself I am." He wasn't going to college but he still wanted to graduate with decent grades. It wasn't like he needed straight As but just because he didn't need to be at the top, didn't mean he'd settle for the bottom. He finished grabbing his bags before slamming the locker shut and holding out his hand for her backpack. No self respecting jock was gonna let his girlfriend carry what looked like a heavy book bag.
Homework, that was something Phee had been letting slip as well. Her grades were dropping and she knew it, even if none of the teachers had brought themselves to Talk To Her about it yet. She still felt like some sort of social pariah, like grief was contagious somehow, but ... well, she’d never been that popular to start with, so maybe that was her projecting. Who the fuck knew anymore. Phee gave a faint smile of relief that Greg wanted her to stay over, then shrugged out of her backpack to hand it over to him. She’d long since given up insisting that she could carry it, and it was honestly a sweet gesture. She adjusted her hoodie and then hooked her arm through Greg’s for the stroll out to the parking lot. “I’ll be sure to crack the whip over you,” she said, aiming for lightness. “About your homework, I mean, not a sexy whip. Unless you’re into that now. ... but like yeah, how was your day?”
Whips were sexy in theory only and Greg let out a little laugh at the idea of it though the visual that it put in his mind was interesting to say the least. He thought Phee would definitely rock that look, cracking a whip and using her sex appeal against him but shit he wouldn't be able to focus on anything but her if she did. Not helpful. "My day was, you know, it went by. Glad it's Friday. Do you wanna get some takeout on the way home? If we don't get food ourselves mom might invite you to dinner again." Which was okay, it just wasn't the most comfortable atmosphere and he would much rather text her to let her know they already had food, that way they could be by themselves and relax.
Phee couldn’t really picture herself all decked out in leather or whatever, waving a whip around and being mean to Greg. That just wasn’t her style. At least not yet, she was changing so rapidly who the fuck knew how she would end up. Maybe her anger at her father would morph into a desire to hurt men. Or maybe she’d just be sad forever, she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything. “Yeah, let’s pick up some burgers,” Phee agreed, making a face at the idea of having dinner with Greg’s mom. She was nice enough, and Phee was grateful that she didn’t mind her staying over so much, but Phee didn’t want to have anything to do with adults right now. She just wanted to hide and smoke a bowl with her boyfriend and maybe give him a blowjob or something while they watched movies. Activities she didn’t have to think about, because thinking was the enemy now. Phee only liked to think about magic these days. She pulled her phone out with her free hand to send a text to Sebastian to let him know where she would be. She avoided communicating her whereabouts to anybody but him these days. He was the only family left who really cared where she was, she felt.
Greg noticed the look and he couldn't blame her for it. Parents could be nice but they were like a different species sometimes and he had no desire to share with them. Like having kids just warped them into boring and overly concerned human beings. It was much better to hang out with people their own age and he was happy to be Phee's shelter right now. His car was often a haven lately, they'd have lunch out there rather than the cafeteria where it got overwhelming so being in the car with her had become very normal to him. Once there he turned on the radio and sang along some poppy love song at her as he drove them to Moxie's. He'd found that the more chill he was, the more she relaxed and let go of her worries, at least he hoped he wasn't imagining that. At least it made her smile sometimes and that was refreshing considering what the first weeks had been like.
There wasn’t a lot that made Phee smile anymore, and most of it came from Greg. His car was a haven, his downstairs was a sanctuary, his arms were one of the few places she actually felt safe and content. It wasn’t even a sense of physical safety, since she knew he was just a squishy human and there were so, so many huge dark threats in Point Pleasant. It was more an emotional safety. Greg saw her, he loved her even though she was traumatized, she could talk and cry to him without worrying he would ditch her, and he never tried to make her feel anything but better. He had a good sense now of when that wouldn’t work, too, and he just let her vent. Phee loved him desperately, even if that kind of looked different now than it had at first. His singing in the car did made her grin, and she even sang along a tiny bit. They made quick enough work of getting food for later, and soon enough they were approaching Greg’s house. “I heard there’s a party tomorrow at somebody’s house ... Jason Bates or something? Did you hear anything?” she asked, pulling the strap of her purse over her shoulder.
"Jake," Greg corrected her and nodded. "Yeah he's cool." There had been a somewhat tenuous peace with the seniors because it was hard to hold grudges when the whole world got flipped upside down, but he still wasn't okay with some of the guys after what they'd done to Phee, even if they'd stepped down now and left her alone since. Jake wasn't one of them at least though they were bound to be there. It hadn't been a problem before so it shouldn't be a problem now. "You wanna go?" he asked and weirdly he himself wasn't too excited about it. Although the weather had been getting nicer and Jake did have a pool so maybe it'd be a fun party and they all needed a little fun. Maybe he was just worried Phee would have too much 'fun', namely get too drunk, because that wasn't fun at all for him and he was still worried about her.
The only party Phee had been to since her mother disappeared had been Clint Nolan’s Superbowl party, early on when everything had been so fresh. She and Bash both had overdone it, and all of her vague memories of how that night had gone weren’t great ones. It had just been too tempting to drown all of her sorrows in the free booze being passed around. Even though it had made her miserable, she was still tempted to go to this party and repeat the experience, if only for the numbness and that brief golden window of drunkenness where everything was fun and hilarious. She might not remember it well later, but she knew she had a good time while she was there. Getting high was great and chilled her out, but it didn’t make her want to dance and laugh raucously like being drunk did. “I dunno,” she murmured, shooting Greg a sheepish sort of look. “Do you?” His judgement was better than hers, after all.
Greg loved parties and the only reason he had hesitated to tell Phee there was one at Jake's this weekend was that the superbowl party was still fresh in his mind. It had been somewhat of a disaster and he'd played chaperone to the very drunk McCarthys most of the night. It had been a while though and again, Greg loved parties. He loved the noise, the crowd, connecting with people in completely different ways to how he did when he was sober at school so he nodded eagerly. "Love a good party," he told her with a smile. "And one day we'll be old and the only parties we go to will be stuffy dinner parties." He stuck his tongue out at her but he was only partially joking. People got so boring when they got older and he was pretty sure he would too but right now it was depressing to think about. He had a lot of energy to spend. He didn't want to be a downer and remind her how shitty the last one had been, he just hoped this one would be more fun for both of them.
His positive response made Phee smile a bit. It was reassuring that he wasn’t holding the last party against her. Not that she’d expected him too, it was just a little embarrassing. If they decided to go to Jake’s, she told herself she would try to tone it down. For Greg’s sake. “Could be fun,” she said. She wanted to leave it up in the air, just in case her mood changed before tomorrow night. It shifted with the winds these days, and sometimes Phee didn’t want to be around anybody at all. “I can’t really picture us at stuffy dinner parties though,” she added with a huffed little laugh. “Maybe baked out of our minds and eating too much, but none of like, the shit my parents do. ... did,” she corrected herself and rolled her eyes. “Sipping wine and talking about like, interest rates and ‘the market’ and stuff. Boring.”
Greg had to admit she was right, he couldn't really imagine himself being anything like the McCarthys. His mom could be fun sometimes but even her life seemed relatively boring to him. "I'll be a firefighter and an EMT and you'll still be a witch, we'll be hella fun," he agreed firmly. "But you know, we probably won't be getting wasted at a friend's house and cannonballing into a pool." Or maybe they would! Fuck societal standards. As long as they didn't become like the sad drunks who still thought they were 'hip' or 'swell' or whatever lingo they used, they'd be fine. He made a point of ignoring her slip of the tongue, talking about her mother never led anywhere good so if she didn't want to, he wasn't going to push her in that direction.
If they did end up getting married when they finished growing up, Phee would be grateful to not be like her parents. Not even because they were boring, more that they both had just seemed so unhappy. At least with each other, a lot of the time. Phee didn’t want to live like that, so distant from her spouse and ‘staying together for the kids’ or whatever. That thought led to thinking about having a baby without her mom around, which gave her an unexpected pang of pain. Those kept cropping up in the weirdest places. She pushed it down as best she could, not wanting to start randomly crying in the middle of a light and silly conversation. Again. “We’ll have our own pool to cannonball into wasted,” she said instead. “A pool like, surrounded by plants. One of those natural-looking ones.” As they pulled into Greg’s driveway, she started gathering things to take inside, grateful for the distraction of moving locations.
Greg couldn't help but laugh at their imaginary future that didn't sound a whole lot like what reality would bring if they ever got to that point in their lives. Then again maybe it was spot on, Phee was a witch and he'd seen what she could do even when she was drunk and barely aware of her power. Maybe they would have a crazy pool with exotic plants. It was just hard to imagine it being in Point Pleasant, just as hard as imagining life outside of this town was. "Oh shit you could probably manipulate the plants to like clean the pool," he said then, eyes widening in realization. Of course he had no idea if that kind of magic would be taxing but it sounded easier than the physical work was. "Then I don't have to worry about you fucking the pool boy," he added with a cheeky sidelong glance at her before quickly slipping out of the car, laughing.
“Ohmygod,” Phee laughed as she climbed out her side. She made sure he was looking at her when she rolled her eyes. “That’s so sexist, what if we have a pool girl?” she asked instead of rising to the bait of insisting she would never cheat on him. She totally wouldn’t, but that should go without having to seriously say so. “Maybe I should be the one worrying, hm? But you do know that plants already do that, right? Filter water? You can have like, a natural little pond and the water stays clean from the right plants in it.” She walked with him up to the house, enjoying fantasizing about an ideal future for them more than dwelling on the present. She could do that better once they were high and she could slow her mind down.
"Yeah but there'll still be fallen leaves and stuff that need to be scooped out," Greg said as he got his keys out. "So you could like train the plants to do that, maybe. Then we don't need a pool boy or a pool girl." Using magic to clean made him think of the old cartoon where a wizard's apprentice enchanted things to clean and just how much of a disaster that had been so he laughed as soon as the words were out. "Aw shit, remember Fantasia? Let's not do that whole Mickey cleaning bit." Goofy was better than sad in his opinion and he could do what he could to prep her for a silly high instead of a morose one.
Phee laughed at the Fantasia reference, then pursed her lips thoughtfully about pool-skimming plants while Greg unlocked the door. Maybe she could tweak some sort of vines to run across the top of the water once a day or something. She usually couldn’t make plants move in ways they didn’t naturally move, but maybe she would be an even better witch by then. “Just don’t go chopping up any of the vines to make like, a million other vines, and you’ll be okay,” she told Greg with a little snicker. “I’ll figure something out. So neither of us are tempted by any pool persons.” She smirked and playfully bumped into him a bit as they shuffled inside. “But honestly like, I’d be fine with us not having a pool. I’d live in a van with you if we had to.”
"Aww," Greg exclaimed, turning around to hug her with one arm while snagging the food from her grip. "Don't worry, babe, we'll have a house." He kissed her to seal that promise, quick but firm, then grinned at her as he let go again. "Do you wanna smoke before we eat?" he asked, not finding it necessary to keep pondering their future pool since it was very much a future problem - if it'd even be a problem at all. Greg didn't think he'd ever find himself wanting. His parents were loaded and he was able bodied and eager to get stuff done, he'd always land on his feet just as long as he didn't get sucked into another dimension or eaten by monsters. Phee's dad would similarly never let his little princess go wanting, so it'd take some epic disaster for them to not be okay.
At this point, Phee wasn’t even sure she would still be talking to her dad when she was grown up, so that future didn’t feel as secure anymore. She was so angry at him for being so absent through the hardest time in their lives, sometimes she wanted to scream. At him. Something she’d never done in her life. Her future was definitely going to include Greg though, Phee felt sure of that. She trusted him to actually take care of her, and more than just financially. She let him take the food and dropped her bookbag, then started taking off her shoes. “Duh,” she answered lightly. Phee went to flop onto his couch, ready to turn her brain off and lounge with her favorite person.
Greg darted around to get things ready for a while before he joined her, crawling over her on the couch to give her some smooches before settling down next to her and pulling the table closer. He put the TV on, found the mindless comedy show they'd been watching with one eye lately and then started prepping the weed. There were things he wanted to ask her but every single one of them might lead down a bad path so he kept the questions to himself for now, focusing instead on the here and now. He gave Phee the first hit, glancing at his phone that kept going off as some of his friends were a little too chatty in the group messaging, then muted it and set it aside. "So everyone's going to that party tomorrow," he murmured and took the pipe from her when it was his turn. "It'll probably be crazy - if you wanna go."
It had been long enough now of doing this almost daily that Phee felt at home and comfortable with the routine. Hell, she felt at home at Greg’s house more often now than she did her own. Except her bedroom, that was still her sanctuary. She’d even brought a few of her potted plants from her room to Greg’s basement to have some greenery around, and done a little enchantment on them to improve the air quality. It didn’t smell as skunky anymore when they smoked together. It was nice. She leaned on him, head on his shoulder, while he packed the bowl, then straightened up to take that first hit. Phee coughed a little, holding the back of her hand to her mouth, and nodded a bit. “Sure,” she said. “Could be fun. I mean, if it sucks we can always go home.” That was the nice thing about so many parties in Overlook. Getting home was easy, especially now that it wasn’t freezing all the time. “If you wanna go,” she added, just in case he was just trying to appease her since she’d brought it up first.
"I pretty much always wanna go to a party," Greg said with a little titter, blowing smoke out through his nose like a dragon because it was cool. "I love hanging out here with you and just chillin' but I love a good crowd too so it's all up to you, babe." He handed her the pipe again and leaned in to kiss her cheek a few times, lingering there in between kisses. "Probably fun to switch it up a little and go out but soon we can go to the beach and just hang out at the marina." He pulled back again to smile at her. "We should totally go sailing when the weather's good again." A party was fun but a boat party was even more so and he was already thinking about the possibilities.
The kisses made Phee smile before she took another hit off the bowl. It felt weird to make cheerful summer plans, and she felt pulled in two directions by it -- she wanted to daydream about going out on a boat with her freshly-graduated hot shirtless boyfriend, with the sun shining down on them and music and maybe some smuggled beer. She wanted to laugh and be dumb and have fun like a normal teenager. But how could she even think about those things, knowing her mother wouldn’t be around to disapprove? Ground her for breaking curfew or coming home drunk or something? Life would never be normal again. Phee tried to drown those thoughts with more weed, coughing again as she offered the pipe back to Greg. Sometimes she just couldn’t get high fast enough to suit her. “We totally should,” she agreed belatedly, giving him a smile. “But yeah, let’s go to the party tomorrow. It’ll be ... I dunno, good for me to get out. I’ll see what Bash is doing, too.”
"Yeah we'll drag him with us," Greg agreed and anything else just wasn't even an option. Maybe he'd want to stay home and sulk but they couldn't very well let him do that. Greg couldn't even imagine what he'd be feeling if his mom had gone missing like Brianna McCarthy had, he might be way worse off than Phee and Bash were, but everything had its time and it had been two months now, give or take. They needed to be able to let go a little even if they never stopped being sad about it. "I've still got some vodka," he told her. "Just chillin' in my pantry. I can make you some yummi cocktails." He snuggled up to her as he spoke, snagging the pipe for one last hit before it was chow time. Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea but if it worked out well, it was definitely worth the risk.
Phee knew that she would’ve been far worse off if she’d been an only child. Or if Bash lived somewhere else like Trip did. They’d relied on one another pretty heavily since the very first day, and she was so grateful for his company. She was grateful for Greg too, who always brought some sunshine with him to inject into her life, but never tried to push her through her mood swings. It was a lot for a high school boyfriend to shoulder, but he’d done it admirably and she’d felt even more in love with him over the past couple of months. She kissed on Greg’s cheek while he hit the bowl and gave a little snerk. “I can probably steal some stuff from my dad’s liquor cabinet too and he won’t even notice,” she murmured. Feeling nicely floaty and high now, Phee leaned forward to snag the food bag and open it up, ready to munch and then get even more snuggly with Greg.
"Your dad strikes me as a guy who drinks whiskey and bourbon," Greg said, wrinkling his nose and for some reason felt inclined to make some strange pompous not-quite-British accent as he spoke. "Wait, those are the same things. What am I thinking of?" he laughed and wondered if he was actually feeling the weed already or if he was just this dopey all the time. "Not bourbon, that other... Cognac! Whiskey and Cognac at the wet bar, my dear." The accent was back if only briefly. "We prefer cocktails and beer, right?" Maybe James McCarthy had awesome taste in alcohol but Greg really couldn't shake that image of him just sipping on something fancy and not all that tasty. Greg's mom was way more fun when it came to flavored alcohol and even then, Greg rarely needed to borrow from her.
“I mean, what do you think goes into cocktails?” Phee asked him, her eyes amused as she took their food out and set it in front of them. “You can make cocktails with whiskey and cognac and shit, you don’t have to drink it straight. Adding Coke to anything makes it better.” She paused, then tittered. “Not that I’m like, an expert or anything. Beggars can’t be choosers when they’re illegal, y’know?” It wasn’t like they could go to the liquor store and buy whatever they wanted. Alcohol was alcohol, and lately Phee didn’t really care if it tasted bad, as long as it worked. Maybe that was a bad approach to take, but who cared. She just wanted to get numb for a while. As the THC settled in deeper and started giving her that numbness, Phee started to eat.
Greg hadn't had problems getting alcohol since he was a sophomore and that felt like ages ago, these days there was always someone who could buy it for him and on occasion he himself just walked into any store and bought it himself. He didn't know if he just looked so damn grownup or if he radiated privilege or what, he didn't question it, just savored it when it worked and he didn't end up with a grumpy teller who demanded ID. "I guess you're right," he tittered. "I don't know that many cocktail recipes, I just know vodka and all sorts of juice and soda are really good together, especially if you add some fruit." He put the pipe away and raised the volume on the TV for just while they were eating, content to lose himself in the food, the comedy and the high for a while.
By the time she was halfway through her food, Phee was feeling pretty content herself. The weed and the television kept her mind on the present instead of anything else, and she enjoyed both. Once they were done eating, she cuddled up closer to Greg, getting nicely tucked under his heavy arm and resting her head on his shoulder. That was enough for a while, long enough for food to settle and a few episodes of their show to go by. This was her happiest place now, and part of Phee truly wanted to just stay there forever. If she could just opt out of the rest of life and be a couch potato with her boyfriend, she thought she would be content. Her hand had been resting on his thigh for a while before she got the urge to move it, so she did, lazily rubbing his leg as she turned her face up to press a kiss to his jaw and nuzzle at the faint stubble there. “I love you,” she whispered, still feeling high and surreal and nice.
It was getting late and even if they didn't have school the next day, they'd had school that morning. Greg was more than ready to turn off the TV and take this little party to the bedroom and her little kiss suggested she was too. He paused the show before it could start its next episode and turned his head to catch her lips in a kiss. "I love you too," he whispered back and it felt so natural to tell her that it didn't make sense to him why those words had at some point seemed too big for a teenage relationship. Wrong girls, he supposed, and Phee was the right one. "You wanna get ready for bed?" he murmured after another kiss. "Or should I resort to trickery and raise the thermostat to get your shirt off." He wagged his brows and gave her a lazy little smile.
Phee had been afraid of scaring him off, of making things too serious too quickly. But Greg had proven he wasn’t easily spooked, and things turned serious anyway. If she’d learned anything from her mother’s disappearance, it was that everything was out of her control and life was short. She might as well grab what joy she could and stop worrying so much. So Phee was going to love Greg as hard as she could, even though she felt adrift from most everybody else. “I mean, all you gotta do to get my shirt off is ask,” she murmured, grinning at him slowly. “No bamboozlement required.” Phee tittered softly and nipped at Greg’s chin before she pulled away to stand up. She was definitely ready for bed, even if they didn’t go to sleep for a while.
"Bamboozlement can be fun though," Greg tittered as he got up as well and gathered the food containers, crumpling them to throw them out. "Just the word is fun. Bamboozlement. It's all sneaky and funny." He didn't think Phee was easily bamboozled though and straight forward was generally more his style. "I totally think that shirt should come off though, it's nice and all but you look way better in just a bra." He knew she was about to get naked anyway but everyone deserved to hear it as often as possible when someone liked them and he made damn sure he told her things like this all the time. "Even better without a bra but I don't wanna be too greedy," he added playfully.
It was definitely a fun word, and hearing Greg repeat it made Phee giggle a bit. She had been gathering up the weed supplies to take with them into the bedroom, but then Greg did ask, and she couldn’t make herself a liar, could she? She set everything down again on the coffee table and grabbed the hem of her shirt to pull it up over her head. It wasn’t a very fancy bra, but she knew by now that Greg didn’t care about that. He just liked to see any of her boobs that he could. She dropped her shirt and gave him a flirty little wink before she picked up their weed again. “See? Easy. You can talk me out of the bra in here ...” she turned and sauntered toward Greg’s bedroom, giving her hips some unnecessary sway.
Greg flopped around on the couch to watch her go, admiring the view for a few seconds before he actually got up to follow her. "You'd be a good belly dancer," he told her dreamily. "In those long see through skirts and bikini tops? Your hips don't lie." He liked that image way better than the one he'd had of her going bad girl, it was also more wholesome than the spikes and dyed hair so that was a perk. He was imagining her in green, adorned in jewelry, her soft body swaying oh so perfectly and yes, he definitely thought she should learn to dance like that. Or at least get the outfit, that'd be enough for him if he was being truly honest with himself. He closed the bedroom door behind them and came up behind her, settling his hands on her hips and sneaking a little kiss on the side of her neck. "Then you could dance for me."
Phee had made it to the side of the bed and she put the pipe and lighter down as she felt Greg come up behind her. With a little titter, she tilted her head to give him room at her neck, one hand moving up to slide through his hair as she leaned back against him a bit. He always felt so rock solid and like he could support her through anything. Phee loved it. “You’ve seen me try to dance sexy, right?” she asked with a snicker. “Sure that wouldn’t like, turn you off forever?” She could do the slow-swaying type of dancing, and she could silly dance and be ridiculous, but Phee doubted her ability to shake her ass very well, much less do all the shimmying and swaying required for belly dancing. It did seem like a fun thing to take classes in though, so who knew. Almost as if to prove herself wrong, she wiggled her ass against Greg a little bit.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Greg all but purred and god he loved it when she did that, it would have been even better if he wasn't wearing jeans but that could be fixed soon enough. "And yeah I've seen you dance sexy, I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." He kissed her again and fished his phone out of his pocket, holding it in front of her so he could keep hugging her, peering at the screen over her shoulder as he found a good playlist for a bedroom mood. "You don't dance enough though, what a waste of good hips." He buried his nose against her neck, breathing her in while he squinted at the phone and let it connect to his speakers.
If Greg liked the way she danced, even if it was just gyrating and grinding, then Phee was happy with that. She hooked her fingers around the arm he had around her and looked at his phone while he figured out the playlist situation. The last thing he said made her raise her brows and giggle. “Excuse me? My hips are not wasted, thank you,” she said, amused. Phee pulled at his arm enough to turn around to face him, and wiggled said hips against him from the front. “You get plenty of good use out of them,” she murmured as she nuzzled against his neck, peppering little kisses here and there. “Take me out more if you want more dancing.” Phee nipped his skin lightly, her hands finding their way up the back of Greg’s shirt to stroke bare skin.
"That is true," Greg admitted happily, his arms around her and his hands - though one occupied with his phone - on her ass, loving the way it swayed. She was a lot more sensual than she realized and when she wasn't self conscious about it it was delicious to watch her. Even better to feel her though so she was right, wasted was not the word he'd been looking for. "We need places to dance here," he sighed, his body more awake now, some parts more than others. "We should take dancing lessons if we can find some. I bet that'd be super fun. Like Tango and Salsa." He let his free hand roam up to her back, lightly tracing invisible patterns on her skin.
Phee tittered at the cartoonish mental picture she got of Greg doing the tango, with a rose in his teeth and an open shirt to show his chest off. It was kind of silly but sexy at the same time. “That would be super fun,” she agreed with a soft huff against his neck. “I bet there are classes in Bangor or something, if not here.” Was there any kind of dance studio in Point Pleasant? Phee didn’t think so. Maybe they did those kinds of classes at the country club or something though. The two of them could mingle with all the boring adults trying to spice their marriage back up, and make them all look bad. Phee pulled back enough to look at Greg, her bloodshot eyes full of amusement and warmth. “You really would take a dance class with me though?” she murmured as she started to peel his shirt up to get it off. “That’s so awesome. You’re like, the best fucking boyfriend in the world.”
"I did not know you could win at being boyfriend," Greg said with wide eyes and he loved the idea because winning at anything was one of the best feelings in the world. "I want a trophy now." He'd of course seen those gag trophies before, #1 boyfriend, #1 dad and so on so forth but they hadn't meant shit until now. Best boyfriend in the world? He'd take it. "And of course I'd take dance lessons with you, I love to dance and stuff, it could be our thing since you don't really play ball." He was a very physical person and that went beyond tackling people on the field. Moving around with a sexy girl swaying her hips for him? What was there not to love about that? "All couples should have a thing, right?" He pulled back enough to peel his own shirt off, wanting to feel her skin to skin, which obviously meant her bra had to go.
She laughed at his adorable amazement. Sometimes Phee forgot that Greg hadn’t been raised with the constant subtle message that everything was a competition. “All couples should totally have a thing,” she agreed, her hands drawn right to his chest as soon as his arms were down. She would much rather dance than learn to play any kind of ball, so that was a compromise she could really get behind. Phee leaned in to kiss his shoulder, then a thought occurred to her and she quickly pulled back to look at him, her expression lighting up. “Ooh! We should learn a tango or whatever to do at prom,” she said, grinning a bit. “And like, wow everybody and be so sexy we make the teachers uncomfortable, but we’re so good that they can’t stop us.”
"Fuck yes," Greg replied with a laugh and he'd been thinking about learning a cool dance for prom but this blew his sweet ideas out of the water. "Total Hollywood style, Addams Family coolness level." He couldn't resist stepping back and grabbing her hand to twirl her though it was far more slow and lazy than he might if they were actually trained. No way did he want to twirl his girlfriend into a wall or something in overzealousness. He wasn't trying to impress anyone but her tonight. It might all be pot-talk and fantasy right now but he currently felt very determined to look up dance teachers in Point Pleasant. The idea seemed to tickle Phee and anything that made her smile was a Must in Greg's mind. She needed it now more than ever.
Phee giggled as she twirled, making sure her hair whipped around since she didn’t have anything else twirly on at the moment. But she thought it would be so fun to dance with Greg in a big swirly dress with all the twinkling lights and music around them. The fantasy might shift into an introvert’s nightmare once it got closer, but for now it was fun to think about. She definitely wanted to do dance classes with him, at least. Anything distracting. Phee stepped back in closer to her man, smiling, and reached behind her to undo her bra so she could let it slip off to the floor. She rose up on her toes to kiss Greg, slipping her arms around his shoulders to press their chests together. No matter how bad she felt lately, it seemed like getting skin-to-skin with him always made her feel better. The weed helped too, of course, but there was nothing like being as physically close as she could get to her person to make her feel less alone.
It was probably cliche for a straight boy but this right here was Greg's happy place, holding Phee close and having her soft breasts pressed against his chest. It was just perfect and he kissed her back with a hint of smile on his lips. They didn't need to make more plans for now, he just wanted to focus on her and their time together in the present. She was a little happier now than she'd been just a couple of hours ago and he hoped to keep her there - at the very least until morning. He let his hands slide down to her ass and it was awesome to know his girl had the same kind of libido he did so he never felt hesitant about moving forward, especially since she didn't try to play coy about it either.
Lately, sometimes her libido felt like it had taken a strange turn, like she wanted to be more aggressive about it. She sometimes got a tension in her jaw that felt like it would only be relieved by biting Greg as hard as she could, or her hands clawed up to scratch him ... Phee knew it was just because of everything outside herself, all the bullshit making her angry and sad and out of control. She hadn’t accidentally hurt him yet, thankfully, and smoking weed beforehand helped keep it all calm inside of her. All she was feeling now was loving and happy and a growing tingly heat between her legs, but she knew those impulses could sneak up on her. She threaded her fingers through his hair and enjoyed kissing him for a few moments, feeling her nipples pull tight against his skin. Then Phee gave a little hum, hands running down over his shoulders to slip between their bodies and find the button of his jeans. “You’re still too dressed,” she murmured.
"Look who's talking," Greg replied but he let her take care of his buttons before he even attempted to go for hers. He always loved undressing her and he loved the cutesy underwear she wore and the way it hugged her hips as he nudged down her jeans. He couldn't resist the temptation to run his fingers down over her pubic bone, feeling the coarse, short hair underneath the thin cotton and damn, girls' underwear was always so much nicer than the male version. Maybe because he thought their bodies were way nicer so he was a little biased but how could he not love that soft spot of hers and the way it felt to slip his fingers between her thighs. The fabric was a little damp and it made his cock twitch knowing she was wet for him. He pressed up a little, knowing he wouldn't get a good enough friction like this but it was a good tease for now and it was turning him on fiercely.
Neither of their jeans could go far since they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, but Phee was okay with that. Her breath caught at the sweet tingles that rushed up her body from Greg’s exploring fingers. She just enjoyed it for a few seconds and then slipped her hand into the open fly of Greg’s jeans to touch him back in the same fashion. The fabric of his boxer briefs might not have been as soft as hers, but she loved how it felt under her fingers as she traced the lines of his cock straining beneath it. It was kind of crazy how arousing it was, knowing she’d turned him on, like some feedback loop of horniness. Phee squeezed him through the cotton and brushed their lips together again. “I want you in my mouth,” she whispered, her free hand moving to push one side of her jeans further down. Phee was beyond ready to be naked with him.
Greg grinned and started helping with the jeans, shimmying a bit to get them down. It wasn't going too well so he ended up dragging Phee with him to the bed where he plopped down and started tugging the jeans off along with his socks and underwear. It was quick work so he managed to do that before she had undressed and that just made this more fun. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer by the loops in her jeans, gently tugging them lower on her thighs as he leaned in to kiss her stomach. "You're overdressed," he murmured, gazing up at her from that very nice view point. He didn't mind the overdressed part, she would be naked in seconds and he did love that look on girls, nothing but jeans, it was like a cute and sexy twist on how guys went around shirtless.
It wasn’t exactly what Phee had in mind but Greg stripping was delicious no matter how it happened, and she couldn’t help but giggle at the speedy way he stripped everything off. Her fingers delved into his hair again as he pulled her in and looked up at her. Phee smiled down at him. “You’re the only one who can fix that from here,” she said with some amusement. He was in her way to do it herself and apparently clingy at the moment, so if Greg wanted the rest of her clothes off, he would have to help her out. Phee was sure he didn’t mind.
"I can fix it," Greg said with a delighted chuckle and went about doing just that, gripping her thighs and stroking, letting his wrists do most of the pushing to get the jeans out of the way. He got them down to her knees before he smoothed his hands back up and hooked his fingers in her panties, going just a little slower as he peeled them off of her. He pressed his face against her pubic area once it was bare, nuzzling the short hair there and breathing her in. He didn't think she could imagine just how hooked on her he was, on her everything - from her scent to the feel of her skin and sound of her voice.
The girlish giggles faded in Phee’s throat when Greg pressed his face in close, replaced with a soft sigh of pleasure. She stroked her fingers through his thick hair and let her head fall back for a moment to just enjoy the nuzzling. The light tickly sensations only made the tingling in her core more intense. It crossed her mind that she hadn’t freshened up after a full day at school, but Greg never seemed to care, which Phee was always grateful for. She’d heard so many guys be idiots about what girls were ‘supposed’ to smell like, but Greg had never seemed anything but hungry for her. Phee tightened her grip in his hair to pull his face back, then bent over to kiss him deeply. She let go of him so she could reach down and push her jeans and panties the rest of the way down and step out of them. Finally naked and thrilled about it, Phee didn’t take her mouth far away from Greg’s as she lowered herself to her knees. She ran her hands up his thighs and smiled into the kiss a bit as her fingers lightly ghosted over the warm shaft of his cock. “Lie back,” she murmured to him.
Greg honestly wanted to stay seated or at least propped up a little so he could watch her but he obliged her anyway, lying back while he stroked her hair and neck. He wasn't so sure he could stay there long, feeling restless and eager to touch her back but that light touch on his cock quickly changed his mind. It felt good and he knew her mouth was magic in comparison. Still, he kind of wished his pillows were within reach. "So bossy," he teased, his voice a little lower now, more throaty as his arousal grew. He arched up a little to peek at her with a dopey grin, then let his head fall back on the mattress.
He always took such good care of her, especially lately, Phee wanted to do some caretaking of her own. She’d tried to thank him in many different ways as much as she could, but she knew it didn’t always come off so well in the midst of all her inner turmoil. She was feeling chill and warm and horny at the moment though, so she might as well spoil him while she felt like it. “Mmhmm,” Phee agreed easily. She always loved it when his voice got deeper like that. She curled a few of her fingers around the base of Greg’s cock, her other hand still stroking at his thigh and hip and stomach, and leaned in to nuzzle it against her cheek. She was always struck by how soft the skin was, sensitive and almost delicate. A soft hum in her throat, she started to run her tongue up his cock, taking her time to explore every curve.
Before Phee, Greg hadn't ever had someone pay so much attention to him with such obvious pleasure. He was used to being in that role, the one who desired and worshipped and if he was lucky the reactions to that were good but getting to actually feel desired and touched with such tenderness continued to blow his mind. It took only seconds before he fully relaxed into it, stroking her soft hair and twirling it a bit around his fingers. He did peek though, raising his head a little to watch and enjoy visually as much as physically. His dick loved the attention too, twitching a bit when she licked it, wet at the tip and growing harder by the second. "You're so hot," Greg whispered before letting his head fall back again, his fingers curling at the nape of her neck.
The compliment made her smile against his skin. To Phee, Greg’s body was like a big buffet of her favorite foods, all for her. It was so different from her own, firm and flat where she was soft and curvy, thick and beautifully masculine. She loved how solid his cock felt against her lips as she wrapped them around it and softly sucked. In spite of the impression she’d gotten from porn and hearing people talk, Phee had never felt like giving head was any sort of submissive act. It mostly made her feel like some kind of pleasure goddess, bestowing a gift upon her adoring subject. It helped that Greg always seemed to appreciate it, of course. And gods, she was hooked on making him breathe hard. Opening her eyes to glance up at him, she started to slowly bob her head, her fingers lightly stroking the part of his cock she couldn’t fit in her mouth.
Greg had never really understood the submissive part about blowjobs either, it required a lot of trust because hell, he had his favorite body part between someone's teeth. He didn't really expect to get bitten because that was some kind of a psychotic act but still. Teeth. He trusted Phee completely though, felt nothing but pleasure from the heat of her mouth, the intensely pleasurable way she worked her tongue against his more sensitive spots. Even her breathing added to the pleasure, warm air against exposed skin made everything tingle. "Fuck, that feels good," he whispered, mindful of the fact he was usually too quiet during sex and while he wasn't about to start fake-moaning all over the place, he could talk.
Since Phee loved hearing his deep voice in any and all situations, she adored it when Greg spoke up during sex. Besides the pure audio pleasure of it, it let her know she was doing a good job of making him feel good, and that was what she wanted. Not that there wasn’t anything selfish about it, of course, because she very much enjoyed anything they got up to naked. Phee pulled off of Greg’s cock just long enough to smile at him and murmur, “Tastes good too.” Then she was back to sucking on him, humming in the back of her throat as she took him deeper. Her fingers moved to idly toy with one of her nipples for a brief moment before she sat up a bit higher on her knees, cupping both breasts in her hands to gently press them against his balls and the base of his cock while she kept bobbing her head over the top half. Phee wasn’t sure if that would feel good or not, but Greg liked her boobs, so why not, right?
It did feel good, especially when Greg realized what she was doing and that was so fucking hot, he wished he could see all of her and the thought crossed his mind that he should totally put a giant mirror next to the bed. "I really, really wanna fuck you," he groaned quietly as his mind provided the visuals he was so desperately wishing for but it wasn't the same, he wanted more. "Not rushing you," he added with a faint grin, restlessly stroking her hair. "But fuck." Fucking meant more of her was within reach and he could touch her breasts and kiss her as much as he wanted. Maybe she just wanted oral tonight but man he hoped not. He might be happy to eat her out for hours but tonight he craved a different sort of intimacy.
Something about his phrasing made her laugh a little, and Phee released Greg’s dick with a soft pop to snicker and nuzzle at his stomach. Sometimes only-oral was nice, they’d done that before, but she was on the same page with what the ultimate goal was tonight. Her mouth wasn’t the only place she wanted Greg’s cock. “Not rushing you, but hurry up bitch, right?” she teased, grinning. Phee bent her head to swirl her tongue around the tip of him once more, then planted her hands on his thighs to help her get up. Trailing kisses up his stomach and chest, she crawled over Greg and straddled his hips, nuzzling at his neck until she could press their mouths together. Phee shifted her hips until she felt that lovely hot skin press against her folds.
Greg laughed and shook his head because he neither wanted her to hurry nor did he want to call her a bitch - like ever. "More like... don't linger, babe," he corrected her with a little snicker that was only half hearted because he was too wrapped up in the way her touch felt and just how eager he was to be inside her. When she'd settled on top of him he could say for sure this was what he preferred because the view and the feel of her was heaven. Not to mention the kissing because he was really hooked on how kissing her felt. He ran his hands over her breasts and stomach, feeling a little derpy when he sank into her, all heat and strong muscle clenching around him. It made his breath hitch and he gave a little squeeze at her waist where his hands had settled.
It was funny because she knew Greg would never ever say anything like that, and she was stoned and delighted that he wanted her so badly. And while she did love giving him head, she was ready to be face to face again too, and to feel more of Greg’s body against hers. She was plenty wet from all the foreplay, and after rubbing her clit against his cock a few times, he slid into her easily enough. Phee settled her weight against Greg’s hips and stayed there for a moment, letting out a soft moan into the kiss. Even though they’d been having plenty of sex, that first thrust always felt like a stretch she had to adjust to. “You feel so good,” Phee breathed against his lips. She nipped at the bottom one as she started to slowly rotate her hips, letting her body get used to having that thickness inside it.
"And you feel like heaven," Greg murmured earnestly. "Like if there's a heaven then going there will feel like... your whole body will feel like my dick feels right now." He tittered against her lips because on some level he realized that was stoned talk but he still meant it absolutely. Nothing in the world felt like this and even subtle little movements felt so fucking good he couldn't get enough. "You're amazing," he whispered before insistently kissing her again, his hands happily roaming over her body as if he wasn't sure where he wanted to touch her the most. All he knew was that he loved her curves and the softness under his palms, so feminine and so strong it felt like he couldn't ever get enough.
That was definitely a high thought and it made Phee giggle too, even as it spread more warmth through her whole being. Who wouldn’t like being compared to heaven in any capacity? Phee wasn’t sure she believed in such a place for real, but this was real, and Greg felt like heaven to her too. She kissed him back with equal intensity, enjoying the way his big hands felt all over her. Phee kept up the teasing motions with her hips for another few moments, finding the right rocking motion that rubbed her clit against Greg’s body until the restless feeling in her core got to be too much. She pulled her mouth away and sat up more, bracing her hands against his chest as she began to move over him with more purpose, pulling up off his cock further before taking him deep again. It was still slow and deliberate, but the increased friction made her moan, her hair falling around her flushed face.
Greg's hands stopped roaming for now and he left them on her hips as he obsessed a bit over the way they moved. There was a reason he'd suggested belly dancing and it had everything to do with how transfixed he was on her hips when she moved them just like this. That slow roll could drive him crazy even without the sweet sensations of being inside of her and when she was riding him it was even better. When she changed her moves he moved one hand from her hip, slipping his finger down to her clit. He didn't move it much, not yet, just kept a steady pressure as she rode him, staring up at her face and breasts. This was pretty much his fantasy come true, the best view, the best feelings, both physical and mental. Phee had no idea how hot she looked but she didn't care about that stuff in this moment, obviously wrapped up in her own pleasure, pleasure she got from him and that alone was a whole trip in itself.
It wasn’t something she put a lot of conscious thought into at the time, but something in Phee happily recognized the worshipful way Greg touched and looked at her while they were having sex. Sometimes it was faster and dirtier, of course, but other times he truly did make her feel like some kind of goddess. It was easier to feel when she was high, when most of her anxiety and hangups had been muted with good feelings. She opened her eyes to look down at him, her breath catching a bit when he touched her clit. The added pressure sent waves of tingles up her spine and Phee let out a louder sound, sitting up further to give him more room. She moved her freed hands to her breasts, cupping and squeezing them and toying with her own nipples. It felt good as well as looked good, she knew, and she wanted to give Greg as much to look at as she could. Phee rocked her hips with a bit more speed, pushing forward into his finger with every stroke as pleasure built higher inside of her.
It wasn't exactly easy to focus on little details when he was so ramped up but Greg still loved that subtle way her clit reacted to touch, like he could almost feel electricity rush through it, tightening under his thumb. It was crazy how giving her pleasure was almost better than the pleasure he got out of it and watching her was better than any aphrodisiac. He couldn't help but grind his hips up to meet her movements, loving the rhythm building between them and the way her pussy squeezed his cock more the more aroused she got. If he looked at her like she was a goddess it was because she was the closest thing he'd ever seen to a real one, it wasn't just the magic either but everything about her, compounded by his feelings for her.
Phee found it easy to get lost in the motion of their bodies together, loving every upward thrust of Greg’s hips that drove his cock deeper into her. It was kind of funny how his size had intimidated her at first, but now she craved that delicious feeling of fullness. Phee secretly thought she would never have sex with anybody else, but if she did, now she couldn’t imagine being with anyone smaller than Greg. Did that make her a size queen already? Maybe so. It didn’t matter, because he felt like a perfect fit to her now. Phee let her head fall back on her neck, soft sounds escaping her now with every thrust as her body took over and she rocked over him with abandon, pushing against his thumb at the same time. It was impossible to think about prolonging things or worry about edging him when his cock and thumb felt so fucking good. Phee just wanted to gorge herself on pleasure, enough that it blotted out everything else she could possibly feel.
Greg wanted to keep watching her but his eyes kept drifting shut as his pleasure ramped up with every thrust. He would have agreed that yes, he was the perfect fit for her because she was the perfect fit for him and he loved how she tightened around him and squeezed his cock. The sounds she made echoed in his mind whenever he jerked off by himself and he'd learned by now the things that she really liked but he knew to keep his hand right there and let her do the moving. She knew best what would get her off tonight and he was more than happy to help. "I'm so not gonna last," he groaned and his voice felt louder than it had seconds ago but maybe he was just overly sensitive to everything in that moment. "You feel so fucking good, oh my god."
The knot of pleasure glowing in Phee’s core had tightened and tightened until she was riding that edge of pushing herself over the edge. It was a lovely mindless space, where nothing mattered but the way her whole body tingled and sharp bolts of pleasure shot through her every time Greg’s cock hit deep. She heard his warning and all that desperation in his voice just amped her pleasure up even more. She could have slowed down to draw it out even more, but she honestly didn’t want to. Phee groaned and jerked her hips faster for another few moments, panting hard until she peaked. Her back arched sharply and she cried out as her body shuddered over and around him, pleasure pulsing through her in time with the clenching of her pussy.
It would have been really cool to hold back on his own orgasm and ride her through another one and then another one but Greg didn't stand a chance tonight, not with the way she felt and looked, an overload of hotness and pleasure on his senses that pulled him over the edge right alongside her. "Aw shit," he groaned but it was too damn late, he would have had to slow down a while ago to be able to handle the way she squeezed him and the way she sounded when she came really hit the right spot. He lost himself for a few seconds, eyes closed as he jerked underneath her, clutching her hips and pushing up as if he could get any deeper as he climaxed. Finally he slumped back down, panting hard and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at her again. He often felt like the guys who picked on her were either jealous or confused by her, too restricted by some weird laws about what they were supposed to find attractive because fuck, how could anyone look at her and not swoon a little? Of course they didn't get this view, only he did and yes, he felt a little smug about that.
It was perfect to Phee, Greg’s climax serving to draw out her own for even longer, her body reacting to his frantic thrusts with fresh waves of deep throbs. She kept unsteadily moving her hips until the aftershocks were starting to fade, still breathing in little gasps and moans. Phee hummed and gave a small stretch before she lifted her head and opened her eyes to look at Greg. A drunken grin crossed her face and she leaned forward over him, breasts softly brushing his chest, bracing herself on her hands on the mattress. Phee nuzzled their noses together and then kissed him softly. “Sounded like a good one,” she murmured, smiling again and slow-wiggling her hips a bit. Sure, maybe she was fishing for compliments since she’d done most of the work, but so what. She was stoned and happy and still full of warm pleasure, she was entitled.
"I love you," Greg replied groggily in affirmation, his hands automatically coming up to touch her breasts because they were pretty much the best things in creation. "Careful or you'll always have to be on top, like, I'm spoiled already." He grinned lazily and idly brushed a thumb over a nipple before letting go so he could feel her breasts against his chest again without his stupid hands getting in the way. He liked being on top too of course, but sometimes it was nice to just completely relax and give her the reins and the view just made it all that much better. "Sounded like a good one for you too," he added after a lazy little kiss. "You feel good?"