pails in comparison

nc-17 | sexual content



It felt silly putting lipstick on at 10:47 at night. Not to mention applying it so carefully when it was likely to be smudged and smeared shortly.

Hopefully.

Sigma had said he was 'almost done' nearly twenty minutes ago, but hadn't come up to their room yet. It had given her time to change into his favorite green lingerie, take down her braid and brush out her hair, and put on her lipstick, as there was something she enjoyed about seeing her lip prints on his neck.

Was it arrogant to think she looked good? The bra seemed flimsy but held up her breasts nicely to create cleavage, which was pleasantly framed by her hair. She couldn't really see how her butt looked in the panties, but he seemed to appreciate it. The green made her skin look pale but not washed out. It had taken a while, but she could finally look at her body without a little voice in her head pointing out the flaws.

Now she was getting impatient.

If he was still tinkering with that robotic dog, he could be there all night.

Diana threw on a robe and slippers and went downstairs, past the kitchen, to his little workshop. It wasn't exactly what she expected to see. Instead of adjusting the motor on Gab 2.0, he was using a broom to faux-attack his GAULEM prototype ... with a bucket on his head.

"Really now?" she said. It startled him, but he made no effort to remove the bucket.

"I'm ... testing reflexes?"

She put her hands on her hips and sighed, although secretly, she enjoyed seeing him be silly and playful. He could be so serious sometimes, acting as if the weight of the world was still on his shoulders alone. He smiled more than he used to, but there were moments when she could still see the haunted look in his eyes.

He was still standing there, wearing it like a helmet, holding the broom as if it was a sword.

She could be playful, too.

Stepping closer, she chastised him when he lifted his arm as if to remove his makeshift helmet.

"You chose that over coming up to bed with your wife. You're keeping it on, mister."

Even without seeing his face, she knew he was frowning at her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She undid the drawstring on his sweatpants. "... you're keeping it on."

"You ... you're serious?" He was usually so confident when they were together that the uncertainty in his voice gave her pause. Maybe he thought she was reverting to the early days of their relationship, when she would want to leave her shirt on, or be in the dark, under the sheets, before she'd let him touch her.

"Unless you're uncomfortable. It's not something I need."

The pail rattled a bit as he shook his head. "Not uncomfortable, no. It's just ... weird."

With that, she cupped him through his pants, where he was already partially hard. Sigma tilted his head as if to look at her from under the bucket but her other hand flew up to stop him. She pushed on the bottom of it, keeping him in the dark.

"Oh no. No peeking."

He groaned; he was a very visual man and she knew it had to be torture for him not being able to see her. And all he would have been able to make out before was her robe - he didn't even know what she had on underneath. She tugged his pants down, taking his underwear with it, and he obediently stepped out of them. Her mouth watered at the sight of him, and she ran a finger up the underside of his erection, making him gasp.

Then she shrugged off her robe and let it pool to the ground. He must have gotten a glimpse of something, though, because -

"Fuck, is that the green set?"

"Yes." She ran her hands over the silk, the dark lace at the edges. "Too bad you won't be able to enjoy it."

Mindful of his reduced field of vision, she carefully guided him to a nearby chair. She debated for a moment before asking him to close his eyes; she removed the bucket only long enough to get rid of his shirt. When his eyebrow twitched as if he was going to sneak a glance, she lightly smacked his shoulder, before her touch turned into a gentler caress. She loved the strong muscles of his chest, his arms, although she generally tried to not pay too much attention to the latter in the event it might bring back bad memories.

"Spread your legs. If you peek, I stop, and you're sleeping on the couch." Using his shirt to cushion her knees, she knelt before him and kissed a path up his trembling thigh. When she reached his groin, she looked up at him and saw he was following her instructions. His head was tilted back; he wouldn't be able to see a thing. His cursing was muffled by the bucket as she wrapped her lips around him.

Without his eyes on her, she felt bolder, sucking on him harder than she normally would, bobbing her head a bit more quickly. If his incoherent babbling was any indication, he appreciated her efforts. She briefly released him, hesitating for just a moment before taking one of his balls into her mouth. Sigma made a noise like he was being strangled. When she switched to the other one, he lifted his hands up and put one on either side of the pail as he let out a deep groan.

"Diana!"

She took her time getting to her feet, sliding her underwear down her legs, then bending over to pick it up. It took a moment to position him on the chair so she could straddle him easily, and he was pushing in on the bucket so hard she thought it might break. She pressed her panties to his chest, smiling when he shuddered at the feel of silk on skin. Then she dropped them back to the floor, took his hands and put them on her hips instead.

"Remember -"

"No peeking, I know, god, please, Diana."

She lowered herself onto him slowly, his hands gripping her hips tightly but not pushing her down. Now that she was face to ... bucket with him, she giggled.

"Are you finally realizing how ridiculous this is?"

"You're the one who put that stupid thing on your head."

"I didn't anticipate ... oh god."

Fully seated on him, she unlatched her bra, sliding the thin straps off her shoulder, letting it fall down into their laps.

"Fuck, please let me take this off."

"No. You're familiar enough with them that you should be able to imagine them."

Trusting him to hold onto her and keep her balance, she started to ride him, cupping her breasts in her hands and pinching down hard on her nipples. His breathing was harsh and ragged and soon he was thrusting up into her as much as he could from his position. She did regret not being able to kiss him, or run her fingers through his hair, but then he was sliding one hand behind her back and the other to where they were joined and when he made contact with her clit, she couldn't think of anything.

Diana grabbed his shoulders, after first - finally - knocking the bucket off his head. His face was flushed and damp, probably from condensation from his breath. He leaned into her, even though it meant his arm was bent at an awkward angle, until their foreheads were touching. When he started to have trouble, she pushed his hand away, replacing his fingers with her own. Then he was gripping her hips again, holding her steady as she picked up the pace. Now that his neck was clear, she could press her lips there, leaving a coral-orange smudge. Like a 'Diana was here' sign.

"Is it just the bucket, or do you have some janitorial fetish I don't know about?"

Her toes started to curl. "Sigma -"

"Do I need to worry about you jumping my bones while I'm mopping the kitchen?"

Her fingers dug deeper into his flesh. "P-P-Please -"

"I'll be sweeping the hall and you'll come up behind me and grab my ass."

That was the last straw. He had a gorgeous ass, tight and firm, and she loved letting her hand linger over it as she passed him in the hall, or gripping it when he was making love to her. She threw her head back and cried out as he laughed. But her orgasm seemed to trigger his, and she felt his legs shake underneath her. He let out a low moan, dropped his head to her neck so he could plant sloppy kisses there as she felt him explode inside her. He briefly sucked on a spot on her neck, leaving his own 'Sigma was here' mark. It would be covered by her hair at work, but he would know it was there. And so would she, and she'd blush every time she thought of it.

"Do you get turned on when I run the vacuum?" he whispered in her ear.

"Shut up," she mumbled.

"When I do the dishes?"

"We have a dishwasher."

"I could start bringing a feather duster to bed."

"Are you ever going to let this go?"

Sigma bit her shoulder gently. "I'm just wondering if I could get you in a French maid outfit."

The idea of roleplay had never appealed to her, but now the thought sent a shiver down her spine. He picked up on it instantly.

"I can order one online," he said, grunting when he felt her muscles involuntarily tighten around him.

(fin.)