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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
Jayne settles into Warminger. NC17 for language and not entirely necessary smut.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1070 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Hanging heavily off one of the meeting hall’s wooden chairs, Jayne brooded about his lot. The day had started promisingly enough, with the prospect of salvaging booty from the Alliance vessel, but the job had left him feeling out of sorts. Being talked down to by Mal got to him like that. Had to be obvious to anyone that he hadn’t meant killing the Alliance tec for real, that he meant to put the wind up him a little was all. Any other day and Mal would’ve joined in. But it was Mal got to say when things were serious and when they weren’t, when Alliance weaponry was legitimate spoils and when it had to be let alone.
Jayne’s dissatisfaction with the job’s outcome fed another, with himself: that he’d let the loss of Serenity get to him too, had renewed his commitment to Mal’s depleted crew when being a part of it had nothing to offer him in return. Huddling together that first night here in the meeting hall had felt good and right; but as the second night approached the camaraderie that sleeping on a bare, wooden floor represented receded in favor of memories of the comforts of a warm, solitary bunk.
And the days were getting shorter – Jayne could see distant trees turning to silhouette through the meeting hall’s open door. There was no liquor to be had – just some orange soup with lumps made by the good women of Warminger. And as far as he could see these good women didn’t have any bad counterparts nearabouts.
It was an impression worth confirming, he decided, when a nice-looking lady with a basket of apples approached him.
“We gathered these windfalls for the children,” she said, with the kind of bright, down-to-earth smile, and curls, he liked, “but there’s plenty for everyone.”
“Mighty civil,” said Jayne, taking one in each hand.
The woman lingered. “You with the ship?”
“Such a handsome crew.”
And now that was what made a woman nice to talk to as well as being nice to look at, that kind of sincere and wholesome compliment.
“But you’re the tallest, I reckon,” she continued.
Jayne took a lusty and approving bite of one of the apples. “Now what would make you think a thing like that?” he asked, smiling in a friendly fashion.
“’s just one of the things makes a man stand out.”
“Lady too,” said Jayne, swallowing with an up and down gesture to indicate the woman’s height. “Care to tell me your name?”
“Mayor’s your daddy?” Jayne asked.
Lucy Lee dimpled, but not without an undertone of knowing allure.
“Goodness no, that’s my brother!”
Jayne was glad now, for all the time he’d spent around Inara. Had taught him a thing or two about how to act around a woman that wasn’t a whore. Not that Inara was any ordinary woman – the stuff he’d seen her doing to Mal and that she’d let him do to her those months back on the bridge had convinced him that Companions deserved their special status. Remembering it now convinced him with equal force of the importance of getting to know Lucy Lee better.
“You need a hand with those apples?” he asked cleverly, and she smiled like she knew the question could be taken in more than one way.
“You could – carry them – home, for me,” she replied.
And if that wasn’t a clear invite to sex he didn’t know what was. But just to make sure, when she turned to go, he passed his hand over her pretty little skirt-covered ass.
The look she gave him over her shoulder told him that he was on the right track. He followed her out of the meeting hall, past a couple rows of buildings, behind one of the town’s larger houses and up to the kitchen door.
“Osborne! Osborne!” she called as she stepped inside and put down her basket. Jayne’s hands sought out a longer and more substantial grasp of backside.
“My brother might be here!” Lucy giggled, stepping away. She stood in the middle of the kitchen, which the setting sun was pouring into, and listened. “Stay here,” she said, “let me check.”
Jayne leaned against the counter, heard her go in and out of the rooms upstairs and down. He grabbed her when she returned, dragging his hands from her knees to her hips. She went to kiss him; and he could do that. Enjoyed it, in fact, as a change, all the tongue and the teeth, the feeling of their hot mouths stretching against each others. He reached under her skirt again but she pulled his hand away. And that was – different, too. Could see he was going to have to work a bit, like when he was a kid.
He picked her up and carried her through to the front of the house, looking for somewhere to lay her down: down was a step on from up and he couldn’t see her objecting to that. Only she did, meaning that, sitting on the couch in the parlor, he had to kiss her a whole lot more, on her neck, behind her ear, and down to the creamy swell of her half-covered tits. She went a bit still then, and he knew he had it: pushed one of them up so that the nipple peeked over the top of her bodice, hooked his tongue underneath it and lifted it out, sucked and rolled it between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. She was leaning away from him, her head dropped back . . . which seemed about the right time – but no, again she pushed away the hand that crept over her thigh. He pulled down the bodice, used the heels of his hands pushed up on her breast to lift and tauten her tits, ran the length of his tongue over her nipples. And – sure was sweet, to have to woo a woman, knowing it wouldn’t be too long before he was fucking her senseless with her legs in the air. Would make it all the better, the fucking, when it happened.
Question was, would it be better to try and make it up to her bed, which seemed like the right kind of romantic, or would the delay give her the chance to cool off?
“You wanna go upstairs?” he asked, and she said: “Osborne might come back any minute,” which was her talking herself into it, far as he could see. She didn’t resist, this time, when he lay her back and pulled up her knee, held it there herself while he sank two fingers of one hand inside her and brushed her nipples with the others.
“Pretty little Lucy,” he said with a laugh as he caught her eye, and she laughed too.
Pulling down his pants took only a moment and in the next he was leaning into her, holding his weight off of her with one arm on the back of the couch and the other on his elbow. And just like he’d pictured it, in went his cock and up went her legs! – and he would’ve laughed again, and maybe she would’ve too, only it was so good, too good for laughing, too good for anything except ramming and pumping and knowing from her noises that she was loving it as much as him.
She reminded him soon as they’d finished of the danger of her brother’s return and the consequent need for his departure, which got over the whole question of her not being a whore and what to do next. It occurred to him, though, as he made his way back in the falling darkness to the meeting hall, that he’d be sure to come across her again, and that he’d hardly mind that one little bit.
Monday, March 15, 2010 4:34 PM
Monday, March 15, 2010 9:34 PM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 3:47 AM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 4:25 AM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 6:53 AM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 7:50 AM
Tuesday, March 16, 2010 2:18 PM
Wednesday, March 17, 2010 10:52 AM
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