Samurai Champloo Fan Fiction ❯ Plum ❯ Plum ( Chapter 1 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
Disclaimer: I don’t own Samurai Champloo or any of its affiliated characters, which belong to Manglobe/Shimoigusa Champloos. One shot, M/M/F action, PWP, TWT, OOCness, and — oh, yeah, definitely this is rated NC-17.
A/N: This is a companion piece to my earlier excuse for lemons, Heliotrope, but I think this could stand on its own; for LauraB, because it’s the 28th.
Plum
His mouth is on her like water, smooth and cool and soft against her skin as she shivers. She rubs shamelessly against him in her desire — she is too hungry for his body to think beyond the wanting — and she is gratified to hear how his breath is strained before he is steady once again. He lowers her gently to the grass; his mouth tastes of plums, for a moment, before his lips are at her throat and those strong hands come up to cup her breasts. She takes his glasses from him before weaving her fingers into his hair of moonless night, strands heavy and sleek under her palms.
That cool mouth is at her nipple, then, his tongue learning its shape and tasting the sounds she makes all over again. His deft hands slip lower, stroking between her thighs — it is a measure of his want that he is moving this quickly. She does not mind; she wants him just as much, her hips blooming in invitation. She whimpers, as his fingers move in exactly the right way over her, her back arching to press closerclosercloser — he is inside her, then, moving easily with her hands caught in his, his dark eyes as full with need as she is full with him. Even then she wants more as he thrusts, she wants to swallow him whole and lick his bones clean. He’s steady, though, the icy calm of the daytime man given way to who he really is, this creature that burns against her with hunger.
She is too dazed to call out when she sees the face over his shoulder, the oceanwater eyes that gleam in the moon’s light. Her lover knows the other man is there, the rhythm he has set slowing just enough that she makes a faint noise of complaint, but he does not stop. Familiar fingers slip between her legs to glide over them where they are joined, and the other man smiles his three-cornered smile. Her lover grunts, a noise of surprise, as his eyes startle wide open; the fingers twine through hers where she was gripping his hips.
The other man is over him, then, facing her over his moonbright shoulder as the pace changes; their languid, fluid coupling suddenly fucking filled with fire and desperation and yesyesyes oh please oh please as her lover drives into her with everything, as if another man has crawled inside him. Her nails sink into her lover’s smooth skin as she turns inside out and back again screaming, the world a place of white light entirely — the relentless pace does not slow for her, but sweeps her along in its wake, as she comes to herself again. The other man’s teeth are in her lover’s shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and intent; her lover gasps as he comes hard, molten at her core as his breath comes tearing out of his throat and the other man purrs.
They collapse onto her, then, a sweat-soaked tangle of shaking limbs and the long black strands of her lover’s hair. The other man smiles lazily at her, licking his fingers clean; he stands up, and she sees a long silvery thread like spiders’ webs trailing from his cock to her lover’s ass — his lover now too, she understands. She kisses her lover’s mouth and he smiles at her, a last ripple of pleasure coming as he pulls out of her and gets to his feet.
She smiles to herself, the purple taste of plums still in her mouth.
A/N: This is a companion piece to my earlier excuse for lemons, Heliotrope, but I think this could stand on its own; for LauraB, because it’s the 28th.
Plum
—
They wait until the other man is asleep, before she kisses him under the spreading branches of the old orchard. His fingers slip the kimono from her shoulders carefully, the humid air flowing over her like his caress.His mouth is on her like water, smooth and cool and soft against her skin as she shivers. She rubs shamelessly against him in her desire — she is too hungry for his body to think beyond the wanting — and she is gratified to hear how his breath is strained before he is steady once again. He lowers her gently to the grass; his mouth tastes of plums, for a moment, before his lips are at her throat and those strong hands come up to cup her breasts. She takes his glasses from him before weaving her fingers into his hair of moonless night, strands heavy and sleek under her palms.
That cool mouth is at her nipple, then, his tongue learning its shape and tasting the sounds she makes all over again. His deft hands slip lower, stroking between her thighs — it is a measure of his want that he is moving this quickly. She does not mind; she wants him just as much, her hips blooming in invitation. She whimpers, as his fingers move in exactly the right way over her, her back arching to press closerclosercloser — he is inside her, then, moving easily with her hands caught in his, his dark eyes as full with need as she is full with him. Even then she wants more as he thrusts, she wants to swallow him whole and lick his bones clean. He’s steady, though, the icy calm of the daytime man given way to who he really is, this creature that burns against her with hunger.
She is too dazed to call out when she sees the face over his shoulder, the oceanwater eyes that gleam in the moon’s light. Her lover knows the other man is there, the rhythm he has set slowing just enough that she makes a faint noise of complaint, but he does not stop. Familiar fingers slip between her legs to glide over them where they are joined, and the other man smiles his three-cornered smile. Her lover grunts, a noise of surprise, as his eyes startle wide open; the fingers twine through hers where she was gripping his hips.
The other man is over him, then, facing her over his moonbright shoulder as the pace changes; their languid, fluid coupling suddenly fucking filled with fire and desperation and yesyesyes oh please oh please as her lover drives into her with everything, as if another man has crawled inside him. Her nails sink into her lover’s smooth skin as she turns inside out and back again screaming, the world a place of white light entirely — the relentless pace does not slow for her, but sweeps her along in its wake, as she comes to herself again. The other man’s teeth are in her lover’s shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and intent; her lover gasps as he comes hard, molten at her core as his breath comes tearing out of his throat and the other man purrs.
They collapse onto her, then, a sweat-soaked tangle of shaking limbs and the long black strands of her lover’s hair. The other man smiles lazily at her, licking his fingers clean; he stands up, and she sees a long silvery thread like spiders’ webs trailing from his cock to her lover’s ass — his lover now too, she understands. She kisses her lover’s mouth and he smiles at her, a last ripple of pleasure coming as he pulls out of her and gets to his feet.
...
Later, she rolls onto her side in the comfortable grass, her eyes closing sleepily. She does not open them when she hears the crunch of a fist against cheekbone, nor when she hears the grunt of a man who’s been kicked in the ribs; once they’re finished sorting themselves out, she knows, there will be two bodies to keep her warm this night.She smiles to herself, the purple taste of plums still in her mouth.
...
-fin-