Match is writing as fast as he can. (darkmirror) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-06-16 09:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, match, mavis dracula |
Hello, doctor beautiful. How’s the cruise life?
Who: Match and Mavis
Where: a phone call and their individual rooms.
What: They talked, and things start getting hot and heavy, and then Match's powers start to kick in
When: Last night/early this morning
Warnings/Rating: R for sexual talk and violence
Status complete
Match settled in his chair as he dialed the number he had gotten, then spoke to an operator., “Yes, this is the Cruise Line Aquitaine? Cool! I’m calling for a Mavis Dracula. Is she... yes. That’s her. Yes, thank you.” And then the phone line was connecting and he was waiting for her to pick up. It was after midnight so he hoped she would be awake but in her room.
Mavis was having a lazy morning--midnight was, technically, morning--lounging in her room, sipping her midnight snack when the phone rang. There were only a handful of people she could think of, who would be calling her on the cruise, and they were all people who made her face light up with delight at the thought. She set her smoothie aside, and picked up the phone, bouncing as she settled back against the pillows. “Hello, this is Mavis!”
“Hello, doctor beautiful. How’s the cruise life?” Match’s voice had taken on a joy and a singing tone almost at hearing hers and he rose, spun and fell back on his bed, laughing to himself. She was okay. That was good. He smiled wider, as he itched idly at his arm, not noticing white flakes falling from it.
It was just an itch.
“It’s good. I have to stay out of the sun, again, but that’s okay.” She smiled, and grabbed her smoothie, sipping between sentences. “How are you?”
“Pretty good, actually. Feeling so much energy now. Like it just built up while I was powerless. Dreaming more, which sucks. Wishing you were here, but... doing okay.” Match smiled, wishing he hadn’t said that. He didn’t want her to feel guilty.
“Is there a lot to do on the ship?”
“Good, good.” Dreaming seemed to suck for most people, but at least he was keeping afloat. Mavis crooned softly at his wishful thinking. “There’s music and dancing, a pool, a gym, different activities you can sign up for. I’m having a good time, but I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought of you.”
Match blushed, sitting up. “Really?” He was honestly surprised. “I... well, I’ve been thinking of you a lot since the party.” Since before then, really, but especially since then. His hand stole downward toward the front of his shorts, feeling himself stirring.
“Yes.” She’d been thinking a lot about what he’d said, and what Alex and Lorna had said, and how it a fit together--if it fit together. She hoped it would all sort itself out, but at just eighteen, she wasn’t necessarily the most patient creature, even if she did have all the time in the world, now. “Good things, I hope?”
“Yeah. Definitely good things.” Match grinned at the phone as he caught a breath. “Some naughty, some nice.”
Mavis hummed softly as her tongue curled around the straw in her smoothie; suddenly imagining that it was something else. “Do you feel like sharing those thoughts?”
Match shivered. “Sure.I just wasn’t sure you would want to hear them. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. But... if you want to hear them, I will share all of my rather naughty ideas with you...” And there was almost a moan in his voice as he spoke to her.
“I’m not uncomfortable hearing about them,” she said, shivering at the sound of his voice over the line. Eventually, she might even learn how to act on her own ideas without fear that if she indulged one impulse, she would wind up indulging them all. But she didn’t want to get into that right then and there. “Are you at home right now?”
Why, yes, she was imagining him in the nude.
“Yeah? Good.” He smirked as he shifted, hand gripping himself through his shorts. “I am. All alone.” He smirked and his voice fell several notes. “On my bed.”
“So am I,” Mavis said softly, listening to make sure nobody was coming toward her door. Not that she had anything to worry about, even if somebody did happen to knock. “At least for the moment, it’s just you and me.”
“Good.” He stroked himself slowly as he spoke to her, and blushed for feeling naughty about it. “I dream of doing all sorts of things with you. Including getting to taste test you, on more places than just your mouth, or hair, or cheek. Of kissing your neck, and your shoulders, and down to your breasts. Of teasing your nipples with fingers and lips and teeth, and then nibbling and licking down until my mouth finds your pussy, and I do my damnedest to make it so I can taste your essence.” His voice grew a little more husky as he spoke.
“Ngh...” The moan escaped her before she could stop it, and she shivered from something other than the cold beverage sliding down the passage of her throat. She felt her nipples tighten at the thought of his touch, and heat pooled in her core. The only thing she felt naughty about was feeling this way for more than one person, and she wasn’t sure why.
“I think about it when I stroke myself, and I think about, sliding up your body, and kissing you, the taste of you still on my mouth, and sliding my cock into you, filling you, until you can’t breathe for it, and then... fucking you.” He shuddered, voice tight, as his hand shoved his shorts down, his cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen, as he took it into hand.
“Do you ever... think on such things?”
Mavis’ breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she forgot how to breath already. Not that she necessarily needed to, but it was useful for speaking. She gulped air, sucked it down, and breathed out a word. “Yes.” She took another breath, and tried to remember how to speak out loud. “I think about it in the bath, sometimes.”
Match groaned for real then, his hand closing over himself, and he shivered as a stroke made him buck, thinking of it being her hand. “I think of... of you stroking me, when I do it. Of you there, laying next to me and stroking me while I stroke you. I know, silly, and all, but... and I dream of just watching you sleep, and smiling, as I do. Happy.”
His voice cracked a little as she spoke of the bath. And he swallowed. “Do you...touch yourself then?”
Mavis let the cold, wet glass that she held in her hand brush against her full, hard nipple, through her t-shirt; feeling her body tighten with arousal. “I do. I like to feel the contrast of hot water and cool air on my skin.”
“Sounds incredible. I bet you look amazing when you do that.”
Match groaned as he imagined it, his hand stroking a little faster. “Imagining you, doing that? Sounds so hot, so fierce.”
Mavis had never really watched herself in a mirror when she’d touched herself, and now she couldn’t use mirrors, so she supposed she’d never know. But if Match thought she would look good, that was enough for her. She set her glass on the nightstand again, and ran her palm down the front of her body, massaging her breasts. “I’m thinking about you naked right now.”
“Not a bad imagination, considering I am, now, and stroking my cock, thinking of you, talking to you. I couldn’t... you inspire my entire self, you know, not just this, but god, do you inspire this...”
Match nodded.
His eyes felt hot, heck, all of him felt hot. He knew, though, that it was just how she made him feel.
“It’s a handsome cock,” she murmured, stroking her belly; fingers brushing the front of her panties. “All this talk makes me feel warm...and wet.”
“Play with yourself? Please?” He swallowed. “I mean... if you want to?” He shivered. “The idea makes me rather hard and hot.”
"Okay," Mavis whispered, her voice a breathy sigh as her hand slid further down, stroking herself through the soft fabric. It was a little damp already, and she could smell her own arousal, sweet and musky. This she could do, without fear of pain or harming others. This, she knew would just feel good. "Do you want to know...how it tastes?
Match whimpered at the sounds of her voice and hands. “Yes, please? I want to know everything.” God, he was so turned on now. He slowed his hand. “You turn me on so much.”
Tugging aside the wisp of silky fabric, Mavis stroked herself; fingers slipping in between her folds to test her wetness; toes curling with pleasure at the sensations. She let Match hear her sighs as she teased herself, probing as deeply as she could reach, and then brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them clean. “It’s...warm, and salty, and it makes me think of Christmas and Birthdays all wrapped up into one.”
Match groaned as he stroked himself a little faster, groaning. He let her hear it as he stroked and groaned, panting. “God... sounds delicious. I want to... to taste...”: and his vision went red with the lust and desire he felt, and he felt hot, so hot, until, all of a sudden his ceiling caught fire, then his wall.
“Shit!” Match tumbled off the bed, the phone tumbling one way and the beams from his eyes splaying across everything. He had a moment to be glad he lived alone in a small cottage apartment at the edge of a complex before he caught his laptop and his camera equipment, and his closet on fire. “No! God damn it! Stop!”
He shouted it and from his mouth blew wind so cold it frosted over... everything...including the phone. Sorry Mavis...
he stared, open-mouthed at the room, part of which was on fire, part of which was frozen, then looked down, to see the phone frozen. Well... fuck. He grabbed some pants and a shirt, and shoes, and his wallet, and ran, ran as hard as he could, losing himself in the night.
“Match?” Mavis’ hand dropped from her mouth as she heard a crackle of interference on the line that sounded like...wind? fire? She wasn’t quite sure she believed her ears. Had he been yelling for her to stop? Had someone broke into his house? “Match!”
But the line was dead, and the ensuing silence threatened to swallow her pounding heart.
~fin~