A Twisted Up Frown, Disguised As A Smile

[acontrollist]

Rachel isn't one to make impulsive decisions. She usually takes as long as possible to think things through, weighing the pros and cons of each outcome.

She obviously didn't do that tonight, since she's standing in Sam Evan's doorway, a bottle of vodka in her hand.

Honestly, she doesn't know what else to do.  Ever since she hung up that picture that Sam drew of her a month ago, she and Bradley have been doing nothing but fighting (and having makeup sex, but that's neither here nor there). Tonight was the worst though.  There was screaming, name calling (whore was thrown both ways) and one of her favorite crystal vases is still sitting in 3 pieces on her kitchen counter. It probably didn't help matters that as soon as Bradley had left ("Where are you going?! We're not finished talking about this!" "Out. Don't wait up.") Rachel did the only thing she could think of, which was calling Sam, who'd told her to just come over.

She's not even sure how the vodka came into play, but getting drunk sounds really good right now.

Comments

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

Rachel's talented at a lot of things. Like gasping loud against Sam's mouth and grinding her ass back against the hands there. She fucking loves that. "Sam..." She whimpers his name, grinding down against him and tugging at his hair.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He thought maybe this would just be some drunken making out and they could laugh about it in the morning and forget it ever happened. But she's grinded against his crotch enough to give him an erection and he forgot how horny vodka makes him. He can tell she likes the attention to her butt so he squeezes her cheeks with his fingers and moans, "Rachel..."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She whimpers again, nipping at his bottom lip before sucking at it gently. She knows how wrong this is, but she's such a handsy drunk and she's upset and she just wants to be wanted. Preferably by Sam.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

Nobody wants her more than he does right now. And if she wants to hear him say it, all she has to do is listen carefully to what he mumbles against her mouth, in between her nipping and sucking on his plump lower lip. "Want you... Shouldn't..." But how can he not when she's driving him crazy right now? He shouldn't even be contemplating about having sex with her but she's upset and he wants to comfort her... but with his cock. Alcohol turns him into such a horny bad person...

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

That's okay, because it turns Rachel into exactly the same thing. She pushes her hands up under his shirt, nails scratching lightly against his abs before she just decides she wants it off all together, dropping it over the back of the couch. "Want." She groans against his lips. "Now. Bed or...floor. Flat place."

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He leans his head back with a moan as he feels her nails scrape his abs, wanting them to go deeper, mark him, and he's glad to be rid of his shirt when she practically rips it from his chest. He's thinking about taking her on the couch but there's more space on the floor and frankly his bedroom is too far away so he makes a decision. "Floor." With her straddling his lap, it's easy to lift her up and he's kneeling on the floor, lowering her onto her back. "Off. Now," he pulls at her dress.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

He wants her dress off but she's so drunk and really, it's just easier to bunch it up around her hips and kick her panties away, pulling him back between her legs and kissing him again. "Easier. Off." She mumbles, reaching down between them to undo his slacks.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

"But..." He wants to see her naked but he's too drunk to argue with her and the second she takes off her panties he's pretty much putty in her hands. It's a bit of a haze as he helps her remove his slacks along with his boxers but eventually they're off and he has her pinned to the floor. He knows he's forgetting something right now (which is protection) but he can't think what as he parts her thighs and works his fingers inside her, waiting until she's wet enough to replace them with something else.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She's already damp (she's a horny drunk, what can she say?), but when he touches her she whines and gasps his name again, wiggling down against his fingers. "Fuck, oh god, yes, yes..." She wraps her legs around his waist, hips bucking. "Please, Sam..."

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He barely has to move his fingers, her doing most of the work as she rides herself on them, desperate from some penetration from him and making do with his fingers for the moment. But they both know it's not enough, his cock nudging at her entrance, teasing her for what's about to come. "Ssshhh," he silences her with his mouth, pressing a deep kiss to her lips whilst he lines himself up and pushes his hard length between her wet folds. He's not slow or gentle about filling her up either because he has a feeling she wants it rough right now.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

Oh baby, so rough. And he gets it perfect right away (or at least, he does according to her drunk!brain). She presses her lips hard against his, opening her mouth against his and pushing her tongue against his lips while her ankles tug him closer.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

She sends him even deeper when she tugs at him with her feet, opening his mouth too so he can slide his tongue against hers. He draws his hips back, almost pulling out of her before he's slamming back inside her again, his pelvis slapping against hers. And it's clear enough that protection and Bradley couldn't be further from his mind right now as he starts a rhythm of hard thrusting. If she wants rough right now, she's getting it.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She presses her hands flat to his back, nails digging there as she gasps and moans and begs, these little whines deep in her throat and chest, all thought of actually being a little coherent gone from her mind. "Don't stop, don-...fuck me, Sam, fuck."

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

Fuck me, Sam. As if he needed more encouragement, it's those exact words that turns some slightly rough sex into him fucking her against the floor. The apartment below Sam's will hear a thumping sound from their ceiling that gets faster as Sam drives himself into her. "Fuck, Rach, you feel so good," he pants, hoping he remembers this in the morning.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

"Yeah." She reaches down, pulling him tight against her by his hips, her own bucking up with each thrust. He speaks and she can't help that little involuntary clench and ripple and she moans, nails digging into his lower back. You remember how big she was on sound in highschool, Sam. It hasn't changed.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He loves how vocal she's being and though she hadn't taken off her dress, one hand of his is under it, desperately feeling for more of her flesh whilst the other is under her ass, gathering it in his palm so he can really grind against her inner walls. "So hot for you..."

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

His hand finds her ass and she cries out loud, knees dropping wide open for him as his fingers find her clit. "'M close. I'm so fucking close, so close, so close..." Her voice goes high and breathy and she's gasping, big, deep breaths, chest heaving as she skids across the floor with each thrust.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

Her cries echo throughout the apartment and he's probably going to get complaints from the neighbors but he doesn't care. "Me too. Gonna come so hard inside you..." He just knows it. Speeding up, he rubs at her clit whilst his cock repeatedly hits her G-spot. "Oh god," he moans when he feels like he's on the brink of coming.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

If she was sober, she'd be worried about the bruises and pockmarks her nails are leaving in his lower back. As it is, though, she can only really arch up and sob his name, begging him to come with her, come in her as she falls apart underneath him.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He should be worried too because his back is going to be sore tomorrow, as well as other parts of his body (he's sure Rachel will be suffering the same problem come tomorrow morning). But right now all he wants is for her to mark his skin, have her mark her territory on him and pretend like he's hers. Which he is. He might be dating Amy but a part of him will always belong to Rachel, and that part is his heart. The problem is that Rachel isn't his. But right now he can pretend.

He's dying to come so when he feels her go over the edge he's crying out in relief, only holding on for this long so they could let go together. He empties himself inside her with a firm jerk of his hips, and he does it plentifully, still moving as he rides out her orgasm and his own high but at a slower pace than before.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

If she was sober, Rachel would feel horrible for using Sam this way. To feel good. To feel beautiful and wanted the way she's been seeking her whole life (and it just seems like she's always tied up when the guy who wants to be that for her rolls around), the way Bradley's failing to make her feel right now. But she's not sober. At all.

She's achy, head still fuzzy with vodka and orgasm as he finally relaxes against her. She sighs and tucks her ankles back together at his lower and hums, pressing her face against the crook of his neck. "Sam..."

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He's trying not to put too much weight on her, holding himself up on his arms slightly as his body rests on top of hers. Her dress is drenched in both their sweat so it'll definitely have to come off at some point.

He feels like he could stay where he is forever, buried inside her, but eventually he shifts to pull out of her, brushing a gentle kiss against her lips. He's still too drunk to recognize that they did a very bad thing and all he wants is to get Rachel naked under the covers and cuddle her. "Bed?"

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She whined and tried to keep him from pulling out, at least for a little longer, but she realized that his living room was hardwood floors and even her drunk brain realized that that wasn't a good idea for her back, especially when she had about an hour of dance practice tomorrow.

"'Kay." She nods, sitting up and finally unzipping her dress, letting it fall as she pads back into his bedroom, stark naked. Cuddles. Cuddles sound so good right now.

[dontcrysammy.livejournal.com]

He likes how he's seeing her naked after he's just had his way with her on the floor. He can't help but let his eyes roam over her as he follows her into his bedroom, pulling back the covers for her and gesturing for her to get in.

[acontrollist.livejournal.com]

She gets in and snuggles right into him, legs around his waist, face against his neck and arms around his torso. She's like a koala. Bradley doesn't like to cuddle and Rachel's affectionate sober. It's even worse when she's deprived and drunks. "Sooooft."