eric_foreman (
eric_foreman) wrote in
alwaysright2009-05-14 10:31 pm
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October 25, 2007
Foreman stepped out of Cuddy's office, closing the door softly behind him, and paused for a moment to look down at the floor, letting out a heavy sigh. Even if Cuddy didn't let it be generally known that she was rescuing from his own fuck-up, House would know just looking at him, and from there it was only a matter of time before the entire hospital knew his business. It wasn't much of an auspicious start for controlling House. Foreman didn't believe for a minute Cuddy's words when she'd still been trying to suck up to him that he was the only one on the team who House respected. Whether it was true or not, Foreman had missed his window of opportunity to actually squeeze something worthwhile out of Cuddy, and he was stuck with unenviable task of reining House in when House definitely didn't want it.
Foreman had had a shitty summer. No job, no relationship after he'd broken up with Wendy. He'd taken the opportunity of some time off to write articles and work on his contacts--he'd even gone to a conference in August, combining it with some long-overdue vacation--but mostly he'd been hitting the pavement, looking for the perfect job. Mercy had been it. He'd only been there a month, and he'd already felt so goddamn confident. This was his in. His chance to make his mark on the field. And he'd had an amazing catch with his lymphoma patient. One glance at her lactic acid level and he'd immediately felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He was so damn sure he was as good as House, able to synthesize the answer from one lab result. And he'd been right--but that wasn't good enough.
The weather outside tonight seemed to echo his feelings. Long, grumbling rolls of thunder accompanied the downpour. Foreman pulled on his overcoat and got his umbrella. On Monday morning he'd be back here, shoved into House's insane little game for hiring a team that Cuddy had explained to him, and he wouldn't want to be here, nor would he be wanted. Until then all he had to do was stew over the situation. Any distraction would be more than welcome, but Foreman couldn't think of much to fill his time with. He headed for the doors, but he didn't walk out right away. He waited just inside the doors, staring out at the weather as if he hoped for some break in the storm. Probably about as likely as a change in his own luck.
Foreman had had a shitty summer. No job, no relationship after he'd broken up with Wendy. He'd taken the opportunity of some time off to write articles and work on his contacts--he'd even gone to a conference in August, combining it with some long-overdue vacation--but mostly he'd been hitting the pavement, looking for the perfect job. Mercy had been it. He'd only been there a month, and he'd already felt so goddamn confident. This was his in. His chance to make his mark on the field. And he'd had an amazing catch with his lymphoma patient. One glance at her lactic acid level and he'd immediately felt like he'd been struck by lightning. He was so damn sure he was as good as House, able to synthesize the answer from one lab result. And he'd been right--but that wasn't good enough.
The weather outside tonight seemed to echo his feelings. Long, grumbling rolls of thunder accompanied the downpour. Foreman pulled on his overcoat and got his umbrella. On Monday morning he'd be back here, shoved into House's insane little game for hiring a team that Cuddy had explained to him, and he wouldn't want to be here, nor would he be wanted. Until then all he had to do was stew over the situation. Any distraction would be more than welcome, but Foreman couldn't think of much to fill his time with. He headed for the doors, but he didn't walk out right away. He waited just inside the doors, staring out at the weather as if he hoped for some break in the storm. Probably about as likely as a change in his own luck.
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"I'm not the teacher," he murmured against her ear as she leaned in to touch their cheeks together. He kissed her again, moving his mouth hotly along her jaw, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he did. His body was beginning to remember what they were doing, why they were here. Foreman didn't feel much less uncomfortable about the prospect of what she wanted to do, but neither did he want her to feel like she had to prove anything to him. They'd already shown they could bring each other pleasure. Now was about building on that. If Amber wanted to show him something or make him beg, then Foreman was ready to listen. "Come here," he said, and tugged her forward, lying back on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. He already felt hotter with her body draped over him, and he was starting to get comfortable with having her on top of him, too. He could knead his palms over her ass, and roll his hips up to meet hers. It felt damn good. He was still aroused enough that she'd feel it. And the more he kissed her, touched her, the closer he was getting to where they'd been before. A little less intense this time, but no less desirous.
Foreman had felt a lump under him when he lay down, and he wriggled a bit to get it out from under him. The bottle of lube. He chuckled quickly and pressed it into Amber's hands. His skin was already sticky-slippery with it, and she'd probably need more. "You're the teacher," he said, lifting up to kiss her mouth again. It sent a shot of adrenaline through his stomach to admit that, to trust her, but this time, now that he knew what was happening, it felt more like excitement than dread. Maybe she'd have him begging after all.
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Amber took the lube, considering it. "We'll get to that," she promised, and set it aside. She wasn't going to run this through too quickly again. This time, she'd do it at the right moment: when he was ready. And he wasn't there yet. She kissed him on the mouth one last time, cupping his face. She packed as much punch in it as she could, both for herself and for him. From Eric's mouth Amber descended, kissing his jaw, his throat. She had a flash of déjà vu; she'd just done this. But he’d enjoyed this part of the reward, and it bore repeating.
Nipping behind his ear, she splayed her hands against his chest, running her palms against them for a bit. Nice. She purred, nuzzling his neck. “Well, my student,” she kissed him where neck met shoulders. “Let’s learn a little something about positions. Think you can lie on your stomach, for me?”
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"You sound like you're plotting," he said, but he rolled over easily enough when Amber asked. There was always something a hint devious about her tone--not quite dangerous, but as if Amber was already enjoying her thoughts as much as she believed Foreman would enjoy her actions. Foreman glanced at her over his shoulder. He was up on his elbows, his shoulder muscles bunching as he held himself up, and he had to keep himself from rubbing against the sheets. He wanted to get whatever pressure he could, but he didn't want to make Amber think he was ready to start pleading with her yet. "I miss my view."
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She laid her hands against either shoulder blade and pressed down with much of her weight, giving him a slow, hard massage. "You can gawk at me later," she taunted, but warmed at his words. She loved how much he wanted to see her. Loved how much he was responding, too, getting back into the swing with her. Eric seemed almost eager, now, for whatever she wanted to do, including what had just freaked him out. And he wasn't just faking the enthusiasm, either-- he was wriggling beneath her, anticipating. Accepting. Amber respected that, the way he was willing to try something that had scared him near witless. She breathed more heavily from the exertion and her rising arousal, rolling her hips. She wanted to taste his back. She really, really wanted to.
So Amber curved over, hands lowering to around his ribcage but still massaging, and mouthed him, first the back of his neck, down a vertebrae, then another. She didn't hold back her teeth or tongue, licking and biting as the urge came to her. So good, to feel him like this; she moaned lightly.
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Her first kiss had him shuddering underneath her. Trying to guess where the next bite or hot, swirling kiss would land. When Foreman had been lying on his back, he knew what that meant, or he thought he had--that she'd suck him, swallow him down as much as possible until everything she was doing, every sight and sensation, would send his orgasm surging through him. Now he wasn't so sure, but the feelings were the same, that urgent expectation. Fuck holding back. Foreman rocked his hips down against the bed; it would be good for Amber, too--he could feel her pubic bone against his ass when he lifted up. He closed his eyes in case she wanted to tease him. His body was already asking for it, and he didn't need to add his voice to the chorus.
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He was getting hotter, Amber knew, but he was still behaved, doing only the minimum in non-verbal communication to ask her for more. It was a good time to start in on the anal: horny and wanting but not so much he'd be all tensed up. He’d be more open, both metaphorically and literally.
Squeezing her hands along his sides, her thumbs digging into his skin, Amber trailed down a little faster, still using her mouth to mark her way. So good, exploring him like this, centimeter by centimeter. She'd keep this up all night, if either one of them could stand the mounting climax; she knew she wouldn't, and she'd bet the job spots in the Diagnostics Department that Eric wouldn't, either.
She paused over the rise of his ass and pressed her lips there during multiple rapid heartbeats. “Ready?” she asked teasingly for the second time that evening; it felt even more appropriate now. She ran her tongue from the dip of his lower back down, down, and down to the top of his crack. Her pulse, already fast, started to race, eager for them to get it right this time and excited at the physical intimacy. “So glad to share this with you,” she murmured sincerely before dipping her head to kiss around his tailbone. His flesh was softer there; warmer, too.
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So glad to share this with you. Foreman didn't know what to make of that. He nodded, but into his pillow--she might not have noticed. That feeling of going too fast came back to him--making this night more than it was meant to be. But they'd already gone farther than most of his one-night stands. Foreman had shared more with her than he did with most of the women he dated, and she hadn't laughed in his face. He couldn't keep his mind on what she'd said, though. Foreman could feel the teasing slide of her tongue, moving lower, and his breathing increased. He kept still now. Concentrating on each individual lick as she toyed with him. Christ. He couldn't believe this was working, or that he was letting her do this, but he already felt fuller, harder. Beginning to throb, and she hadn't even used her fingers yet.
"You like this?" he asked, but quietly--he didn't want to interrupt her. "I mean, on you?" He'd pay even more attention if it was something Amber wanted him to do in return. Thinking about that, about exploring her like this, maybe trying something new, kept his mind occupied, and was just as arousing as her touch.
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"I said it could be amazing, didn't?" Talking kept her from stimulating him, but the break in sensation could serve as teasing, to heighten his desire. Anal wasn't a fetish of hers, or a favorite activity, but it was tillitating for being different and rare. Almost never anyone went down on this side of her. Getting a rim job, or other kinds of anal play and fucking, wasn't quite like hitting the jack pot; it was more like traveling for work: the change of pace spiced things up. Though, having done it mostly with near-strangers, the results so far had been mixed. "Of course, it can also be absolutely terrible. Oh, the stories I could tell."
Enough yammering. Amber nudged her face between his cheeks, into his concentrated heat. He had washed well, thankfully. He smelled like himself, but clean, too. So Amber had no qualms with going lower and deeper, into wrinkled skin and sparse pubic hair. She bit-- gently, gentlest of all this whole evening-- into one of his cheeks, just enough to give him a hint of her teeth. There, that should give him a jolt. She licked down to his anus, swirling her tongue against it; some of the lube must've fallen slipped to there, she could taste it. She wondered if she should stick with her mouth, or if Eric would be daring enough to accept fingers, too.
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Foreman jerked slightly at Amber's bite. Damn, she liked using teeth. Another sign that she wouldn't be satisfied with something that was gentle--or at least, not only gentle.
Foreman's thought processes shut off entirely a second later. The feeling of Amber's tongue along his ass was so completely different from any sensation he'd ever had before that he nearly had to hold his breath in order to make sure he was feeling every nuance. It was different from a blowjob, even, and so strangely intimate; maybe because of where she was licking, or the warm slickness against sensitive skin, but Foreman found himself panting for breath even though the touch wasn't firm or insistent. He eased his legs apart, giving Amber more room if she needed it, subtly encouraging her.
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His spreading his legs was the sign she'd been waiting for; Amber cast a sideways glance. There, within arm's reach. She grabbed the lube without breaking contact, still giving Eric all due attention with her mouth. Wouldn't want to stop the rhythm now that it'd started. The mechanics, propped on one elbow, were tricky, but she still managed to grab the lube, screw off the lid and squeeze some onto her fingers. She rubbed them, to heat it up faster.
Once the lube was at body temperature, Amber allowed herself to sit up-- much as it disappointed her, she wasn't a nubile teenager anymore who could maintain crazy positions all night long-- and ran her fingers through his crack, up once, down again. On her knees, she fidgeted, trying to get some friction against her vulva; she hadn't been sure she'd be up for a third orgasm, but at this rate, she'd need one. She pressed her middle finger against his anus, whirling in spirals. "How you doing?" she asked, playful.
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He didn't notice Amber shifting until he felt the pad of her finger against him, moving in tiny incremental circles. If he'd been breathing quickly before, now his chest was heaving. She might push in at any moment, and now that they'd reached that point, Foreman was unsure again. Not enough to make her stop; just enough that his heart was a warm hammer beating in his throat. He could only grunt at first, in answer to Amber's question. "'S good," he said. It wasn't like he'd never had his prostate checked before, and this already felt better than that ever did. Besides, he was more relaxed now, and prepared. He tried, consciously, to let his breath out in one long exhale, refusing to let his muscles tense up. He was focusing so intently on her finger, the teasing slip and push of it, that he'd almost forgotten his erection, but he had no doubt that Amber could remind him of it quickly. Foreman closed his eyes and hitched himself backwards, only slightly, but enough to give Amber the signal to go ahead: pressing against her finger, anticipating.
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With her other hand, Amber pressed his perineum in a feather-light touch; didn't want to overload him with stimulation. From there, she gently trailed her fingertips to his balls, and cupped them, only barely enclosing them around her hands. And still she stroked his anus, keeping a smooth, fluid motion. The way he hitched, he seemed ready for more. And yet—she remembered how he complained about missing the view, and how much he wanted to see her. Maybe he’d be more comfortable, more excited, if he could see what was happening; see just how hot her touching him was. “Turn over, Eric,” she murmured. “I want you to see this.”
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He lay on his back with his feet flat against the mattress, his knees bent and spread. His first look was to see Amber, seeing that warm, glowing flush on her face and spreading down her throat to her chest. Her eyes were bright with hectic excitement, and Foreman was amazed that she was so affected from touching him.
He already missed the pressure of grinding his erection against the bed. At least there'd been that, even if he hadn't had a lot of faith in Amber being able to get him off. Without that, Foreman couldn't help himself. He reached down and wrapped his fingers around his cock, starting a slow, controlled stroking. It felt more intense than he'd meant, after holding back so long, and he licked his lips, shifting until he'd found the most comfortable position. He wasn't anywhere close to bringing himself off, but the pleasure of his own strokes made him hotter, more relaxed. He kept his gaze on Amber's face, trying to meet her eyes as much as possible. She'd be watching his body, his response, but he only wanted to stare at her face, seeing the changes in her expression. "I'm watching," he said. If she was sure she didn't want to simply climb over him again; if she had the patience to keep going with this. Foreman wasn't going to challenge her, though; he'd probably end up with something more abrupt than he could handle.
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Her mouth filled with the taste of his precome and that only spurred her on to close her lips around him tighter, lapping at his slit. But, excited as she was, she didn't forget to slip a finger back against his anus, probing once more. He wasn't going to get anymore ready than this. She looked up into his eyes and raised her eyebrows, as if to signal-- if he could ready her mind-- what was coming. Her mouth still enclosed around the top of his cock, Amber hooked a lube-slippery finger into his sphincter in a smooth motion. Inside, she circled around a bit, not heading straight for his prostrate, taking more of his dick into his mouth. All the while, she kept her eyes on his, reading his every reaction.
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This time he didn't even have a second to panic before she was pressing a finger against him, sliding it inside easily. The lube, and the way she'd been opening him up with her tongue, both made it easier. Foreman's breathing stopped for a second in his throat, before he started panting. There wasn't enough air in the damn room right now. His lungs pumped, and Foreman tensed his thighs, pressing his heels down against the mattress--just enough to arch up into Amber's mouth. Needing more. Felt like he'd been waiting all fucking night for her to do this, not teasing, not stopping. When Foreman settled back, he hardly realized he was going to drive down onto her finger, but when he did, there was a driving spike of sensation. Like he'd been struck by lightning, electricity surging along his nerves, the wild shock of it pinning him to the bed.
"Oh fuck," he said. Couldn't stop the words. They burst out of him on a gust of air, and Foreman squeezed his eyes closed. He moved again--hardly even thinking about how--rocking his hips, biting back his sharp, needy whimpers, wanting whatever that had been again.
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Eric's thrust took Amber by surprise, and she almost choked on him, but she didn't mind. She wanted him to give in to his impulses. And now that she knew he'd be rocking, she'd watch out for it. If she weren't already so excited, she'd be silently crowing, to get Eric to let go, again. She always took it as a victory, to get her partner desperate, but with Eric, it was better, somehow. Like it was more of a challenge to get past his self-assurance and control.
Before Amber could take all the positive signs to dig her finger deeper into his anus, Eric's drove himself onto her. Her eyes burst open, watching his face scrunch up, his body shake. Hot. If he wanted more of that, then she'd be more than happy to give it. She slipped in her index finger, to join the middle one, and curled them both, stroking his prostrate lightly, then again. Meanwhile, she squirmed, rubbing her thighs, unable to hold back soft keening sounds.
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His body was filled with liquid fire, concentrating in that one spot right behind his balls--felt like Amber was stroking his cock from the inside out. Foreman could hardly hear his own voice in his ears. Everything narrowed down to Amber. Her mouth, her hands. Foreman reached down for her. Needed to touch her, any way he could, even if that was only his hand on her shoulder. His muscles twitching rhythmically as he did everything in his power to meet her.
It hadn't been that long, but Foreman knew he was going to come. Any second. One more push of Amber's fingers. One more suck. "Fuck, oh. Amber." Foreman felt his mouth drop open, grinding the back of his head and his feet against the bed, his whole body bowing up into the pleasure, the bright, rocketing sensation she was drawing out of him. "Ah, I'm--coming--oh Christ."
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It was absolutely beautiful, his flaring heat, the way he shook, his cries. She happily took in his hot semen—it wasn’t a real blow job if you didn’t swallow, Amber always said. It was bitter, but delicious: the proof of her victory. And how she loved to feel and taste him coming. She followed his thrusts’ rhythm, her lips around his cock and her fingers against his prostrate, to prolong his pleasure. She’d told him anal could be amazing, and it had been, at least for her; she suspected it had been for him, as well.
Once Eric stilled, Amber clambered back up, lying besides him, and, barely thinking through her desire, hooked a leg around his so that her clit rubbed against his thigh. “I need you,” she panted, and, “Oh, god—“ She said no more, for she was kissing his cheek, his jaw, burning for more contact with him. Though wordless, she sounded out her want through loud, erratic moans; her neighbors would hear and complain, but they were the least of her worries, right now. Holding on to his shoulder, she fucked herself against his side, hoping that, despite her inability to speak, he’d know to touch her.
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There was no time for him to recover. No time to simply sink down into the glowing satisfaction of what she'd done. Certainly no time to think about the fact that he'd liked having her fingers up his ass, and change his self-conception because of it. Amber was already eager, thrusting her hips against him. I need you. Foreman let out a whispered, "Yeah," and then rolled over, pushing Amber onto her back. When she'd first started teasing him, Foreman had promised revenge, making her wait, taking his time. Now that it came down to it, though, Foreman wasn't interested in making Amber beg or seeing her frustrated. He slid down her body quickly, pausing to give her nipple a quick pinch, but he had a destination in mind and wasn't going to meander getting there.
It was so easy to slide a finger against Amber's vulva and then up inside her. She was already wet, eager, and Foreman added another finger before he bent down to kiss her just above her pubic hair. He wasn't going to forgive everything she'd done to him, and he retaliated with a quick bite to her inner thigh. It was only seconds later that he covered Amber's clit with his tongue, but he'd bet it seemed longer to her. This wasn't the time for finesse. Foreman tasted her, thick and slick against his tongue, and then sucked, hard, over her clit, working his fingers in and out and feeling the clench of her vaginal muscles with each quick, hard thrust. She was already close; he just wanted to make it explosive when she finally came.
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Amber wrapped her hands around the top of his head, to bring him closer and to have something to hold on to, her pelvis pulsing forward a few more times as her nerves reached the final tiers of climax; at last she came down, hard, thrashing as she fell. “Fuck, oh—“ Third time in a few hours or not, it was intense, more so than the previous ones, and the feelings crashed inside of her, hot and brilliant and all-consuming.
As the last of the sensations drained out of her, all of Amber’s muscles gave out and she fell onto the bed like a bag of bricks. She breathed heavily, drawing in as much air as possible. “Eric,” she whispered, still dazed from coming. “Come up here, I want to kiss you.” She looked down at him, pleased and fulfilled. It’d be so good, to feel his lips against hers, to bask in the glow of their entire evening together. She barely knew what to think, but one thing was certain: she felt like a million dollars.
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Afterward, she relaxed, seeming as wrung-out as Foreman felt, and he eased his way back up beside her, answering her with a soft, tender kiss. He let his tongue flick out to trace her lips, and then to meet hers, but it wasn't demanding at all. He could still taste her--his mouth and chin were slippery with her moisture--and there was a hint of bitterness in her mouth that was probably the taste of his own come. Didn't matter, though. All Foreman wanted was to feel the gradual slowing of both their bodies, as they got their breath back and their hearts settled down to a resting rate.
Foreman was lying half-over Amber, but he didn't want to crush her with his weight, and when the kiss finally ended--slowly, trailing off gradually--he let himself fall to his side next to her, still meeting her eyes and feeling a warm, proprietary sense of caring--about her, about what they'd done. He couldn't help leaning in to brush his lips against hers one more time. He felt worn out, tired enough to fall asleep between one breath and the next. "Okay," he murmured. "That was amazing." He wanted to say it to Amber--you're amazing--but even now, on the verge of sleep, he knew better than to carry it further than they'd agreed to let tonight be.
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She was sorry when he rolled off her, ending their kiss. Leaning an arm over his chest and laying a leg over his, she was already halfway to meeting him as he leaned to kiss her lips. She closed her eyes during this brief contact, feeling more than just the light press of his lips. That was amazing. She’d been about to say those very same words, and there they were, coming from him.
Amazing. Yes, that's what it'd been. And more, Amber could admit to herself as they cooled off, breathing more regularly and their sweat drying off. When she’d hit on Eric, she'd expected a fun night and, at most, a contact in her workplace. She certainly hadn't meant to like him. She avoided liking people, that just caused complications. But she did like him and it was too late to worry about the implications. She'd just go with what she felt and wanted, like she always had, and she'd deal with whatever would happen because of that. Anyway, as far as she could tell, Eric had some feelings of his own for her, given the soft, sweet way he was looking at her, like she mattered. Like he'd be glad to see her in the morning.
She sighed, still smiling. "Amazing? More like fucking fantastic." Her eyelids, heavy with sleep, closed. She could drift off at any moment. "Asking for your umbrella was the best thing I could’ve done, tonight."
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Foreman sighed and let his eyes close, too, listening to Amber's breathing and his own. He didn't know what tomorrow would look like. He hadn't asked if Amber had to get up early, although he assumed she did. For now, though, all those problems were in the future, not something he had the energy to worry about it now. He felt worn out, but so damn good at the same time, warm and peaceful. The adrenaline and the endorphins had eased into a slow, sated tiredness, and Foreman let it carry him away, until he drifted off to sleep.