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“You’re not fun.”
Annabeth straddled his lap and folded her hands, her blush pink lips set in a contemplative pout. He massaged her knees and pressed a kiss to her mouth that she clearly did not feel like reciprocating. Percy laughed.
“Baby, you don’t need me. You can make yourself feel good.”
She groaned. “I feel like shit.”
“I told you not to get a third margarita.”
She dropped her head and picked at a seam in their sheets. “But they were so good…”
They must have been, because Annabeth wasn’t usually the type to sip her alcohol. She liked the feeling much more than the taste, which usually meant downing shots as quickly as possible with a chaser closeby. As far as he knew, she hadn’t planned on getting wasted at his swim team’s celebratory lunch. In her words: it had sort of just happened.
She began to hunch over, so he bent his knees to give her somewhere to rest her back. Her feet grazed right above his crotch before she dropped both of them to his right side. She still wore her dress from earlier, though now it was adorned with raspberry-lime stains right between her breasts and the fabric pooled around her hips, exposing her blue thong.
He hadn’t told her, but it was most definitely visible through the thin white fabric of her mini dress. It hardly mattered considering she was sitting for most of the day—it was just a very distracting detail he privately savored throughout the meet and at lunch, while his hand rubbed up and down her warm thigh.
“And it’s your fault,” she said. “You were teasing me. What was I supposed to do? Everyone would have noticed if I dragged you to the bathroom.”
Percy fought a smile. His teammates already knew they weren’t exactly classy; they’d shared walls in hotels for competition weekends enough times for that to be evident. “I’m sorry. You can punish me if you want to.”
Annabeth squinted like she was mulling it over. “Sure. After you fuck me.”
He shook his head, rubbing his thumb over the bridge of her foot. He felt her flinch under the touch as if it tickled, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she tugged the dress off and tossed it onto the bedroom floor. Her low pigtails each covered one of her breasts, but Percy’s tongue dried up regardless. He was aware it sounded delusional and almost territorial, but there was something so very ocean about her—the contrasting shades of seashore gold between her hair and skin, the soft seafoam swirls that peeked out from under her panties, the owlish curvature of her big eyes that tapered off like a conch, the arousal that colored her cheeks like a sunkiss. Her thong was damp between her legs, and this particular position had her so close he was sure he could smell her. Annabeth pressed the soles of her feet against his chest, her knees curled into herself.
Like a little siren tangled in a sailor’s net, he thought. His cock strained painfully in his boxers.
“Please, Percy.” Her voice was so desperate he nearly caved.
His good sense took over. “C’mon Annabeth. You can get yourself off. I know you can.” His fingers circled her ankles. She tried to kick him, but he held her down. “You know, I found your underwear in the back of my car yesterday.”
Her eyebrows furrowed adorably. “That’s from after my exam last week.”
(As in, after her exam that she swears had gone so badly that Percy had to come pick her up and they had sex in the parking lot behind the lecture hall).
“No, I put those ones in my pocket.”
A laugh startled out of her. “Perv.”
“You were fingering yourself in my car and I’m the pervert.”
She tried very hard to school her features into a serious expression. “I never did that. I don’t know who broke into your car and jerked off, but it wasn't me.”
“This person also stole the take a bite of my big apples undies you got from the Coney Island souvenir shop.”
Annabeth’s cheeks turned impossibly pink. “I guess we need to change our locks. Don’t laugh, Percy, this is bad.”
He pressed a thumb under her foot, rolling pressure up and down the midline. “So, just to be clear—you didn’t get turned on watching me practice, steal the car keys, and masturbate in the backseat?”
“I would literally never do that.”
“Where did you disappear to, then?”
She opened her mouth, then promptly closed it. “Ok, fine—”
Percy threw his head back and his chest shook in delight. This time when she attempted to kick him his grip was loose enough to succeed. She smacked the side of his face; he seized her ankle and kissed the arch. The impact hurt more than he cared to acknowledge, not when Annabeth was beautiful and naked in his lap, smiling despite her very best efforts not to. She bit her lip, and he wanted nothing more than to draw it into his mouth and kiss her swollen, but her feet were holding him against the headboard.
She quirked her head. “Did you jerk off with it?”
He shrugged. At the time, he had felt quite depraved and embarrassed when his cum spilled into her panties, but Annabeth rubbed her thighs together, the very flimsy fabric of her thong fully saturated now, and whatever image her mind was concocting was clearly turning her on.
The balls of her feet trailed lower and lower, dangerously close to his bulge. He bit back an anticipatory groan, feeling unexpectedly helpless in this position.
Annabeth fixed pleading eyes on him. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Percy?”
“Of course I do,” he said patiently, his voice raw. “But first I need you to show me how you fingered yourself in the car.”
To his surprise, she slowly began to nod, though he suspected she was getting a little too frustrated to not touch herself. She settled one of her feet to the side again and parted her thighs just enough to slip a slender hand down between them, gliding three fingers down her puffy folds, glimmering with her arousal and smearing it all over her digits. Percy wondered if she could feel his rapid pulse in his dick. His gaze flickered between her pussy and her face—her unfairly pretty, saccharine face and glossy eyes that she kept trained on him until her fingers slid inside, and she squeezed them shut.
“There you go, baby,” he whispered, low like a prayer. “Isn’t that nice?”
She nodded once. Her hand stayed in the same position as she probably curled her fingers inside. With her foot now fully pressing down on his erection, there wasn’t much for Percy to do except watch, and writhe. He devoured every little flicker in expression, the soft contented moans that spilled from her mouth. Every couple of beats, she would remove her fingers to rub her clit in circles. He wanted to reach forward and do that part for her so she could feel both sensations at once, but he knew Annabeth didn’t like it when her orgasms arrived too fast. Besides, he had mentally pledged to keep his hands to himself.
Her foot continued to knead at his length, which he was very consciously trying to keep from prematurely ejaculating. Annabeth slipped in a fourth finger, circling the base of her palm over her clit and gasped, and Percy grabbed her ankle and hooked it over his shoulder to alleviate the pressure before he came much too hard much too early.
She looked at him inquisitively and his heart felt incredibly warm in his chest. He thought she was cute all the time, but there was something uniquely endearing about her when she was drunk, or blissed, or learning something new. All wide eyes and tangible curiosity.
“You should show me, too,” she said. “What you did yesterday.”
Percy didn’t need to be told twice. He tugged himself out of his boxers, and watched Annabeth drink in the sight like it was the first time. She traced her opening before thrusting her fingers back in. He held his hand out in front of her. Annabeth spit into his palm without a thought.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
She wrapped her other hand around his as he smeared her saliva along his hard length. Her grip forced him to apply more pressure than he could comfortably bear, and, not for the first time, Percy thought she was seriously overestimating his resolve. Her palm stilled over the tip and she collected a drop of precum on her thumb, then used it to draw spirals over and around her clit. She moaned, using both hands now to seek out her pleasure, her eyes greedily studying him as he stroked himself.
Her chest heaved as she increased the pace of her movements, and she had a way of making the early March daylight look like the mid-summer sun. All dewy and lush with her own heat.
“Percy,” she whined, closing her eyes.
“You can do it, baby. Just keep your fingers right there.”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as her orgasm came and went in quick succession. She stopped her ministrations immediately, her fingers coated in a translucent sheen. If it was underwhelming, she didn’t seem very disappointed. An airy giggle filled the silence of their bedroom, and she repositioned them so that his legs were straight, straddled between her knees so she could pump his cock with her sticky hands.
“Fuck,” Percy muttered, greedily roaming his palms her thighs, hips, ass. He tossed her hair over her shoulders, and she winced when the cold air hit her nipples, momentarily, before he closed his mouth over one, skin salty on his tongue.
Annabeth squirmed, her wet cunt unapologetically grinding in his lap. Her warm grip encompassed his balls, sending a shiver up his spine. His teeth caught the soft bud of her nipple, biting just slightly. Enough to leave it flushed when he tore himself away, framed by shallow teethmarks, and the image in front of him was so deliciously lewd he wished he could immortalize in more than just his memory.
He nuzzled his nose teasingly against her cheek, making her smile. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”
She tilted her head, inviting an open-mouthed kiss that he instantly devoured. Her tongue certainly still tasted like margarita, more tequila than fruity, but it was difficult to mind any flavor when it was on her. They kissed deep and vulgar and messy, moans caught somewhere between pleasure and a hungry desperation. It was a feeling that grew over time in an neverending loop of amplification; the closer they got, the closer they needed to get. He was well aware that their relationship, their sex, lacked any sort of boundaries—always trying to accomplish the impossible task of something raw and irreversible. Annabeth stroked him with fervor and he smothered a moan into her mouth. She pulled back just in time to see his cum decorate his abdomen, dripping down the rich brown contours of hard muscle.
Her back stretched catlike as she hoisted herself onto her knees, her hands buried into the mattress. Her crimson tongue darted out between her lips, and she licked the cum from his chest, his skin hot and tingling.
He held the side of her face. Annabeth looked up at him through her long eyelashes as she collected it on her tongue. Then she closed her mouth and swallowed.
He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You don’t need to clean up my mess.”
She rested her cheek against his cock for a moment, her spine forming a sinful curve, displaying the dimples that adorned her back and the fullness of her toned ass. “Technically, I made it.”
Gently, slowly, she left a trail of kisses up his shaft, leaving behind faint traces of strawberry tinted lip balm. His cock twitched, all the blood in his body tuned into her and her only, vital processes be damned.
With one continuous motion, she licked up the rest, goosebumps rising in her wake. She rose to her knees, and tilted his chin up at her. Her thumb pulled down on his bottom lip, but he would have opened his mouth even without. A mixture of saliva and his own cum fell to his tongue and her knuckles pressed down on his throat. He swallowed.
Annabeth giggled brightly, her weight landing on the pillows. She lied on her side. “You’re gross.”
Percy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah.” He tucked himself back in his boxers and reached for the water on the bedside table. “Do you feel better?”
She ignored his question, but accepted the water. His fingers sprawled behind her head to hold her up as he tipped the glass until it was empty.
“More?”
A minute passed while she thought about it. He’d already decided he should probably go anyway by the time she began to nod.
He kissed the top of her head. “Give me a moment.”
Compromised by two exterior walls, the kitchen and living room were the brightest areas of their apartment. They hadn’t managed to snag a unit in one of the buildings closer to campus, which had been a bummer at first, but Percy grew quite fond of the location. He liked that their building was fairly quiet, even on the weekends, and that the nearest drug store wasn’t always swarming with exclusively college students. The place was a little older; there wasn’t air conditioning, but the weather had not yet turned hot enough for that to be an issue. On the bright side, there was a certain charm in its age. The kitchen had a turquoise backsplash that wasn’t necessarily cute, but at least it wasn’t “jail cell reminiscent” as Annabeth had put it. Under the sunlight, they almost glimmered like the porcelain tiles of a swimming pool.
He retrieved the water pitcher from the fridge, mid-pour when he heard footsteps in his periphery. Annabeth stumbled from the bedroom doorway into the kitchen, bracing herself against anything she could grasp, like this was her first time using human legs. Her thong rested precariously low on her hips, and with every inch of her tan, lithe body exposed, she looked even taller than usual. Or maybe it was because she had cut her hair recently, and the short length made her torso look longer. He extended an arm for her to fall into, which she did without grace.
“Careful, baby,” he said, holding her tight against his chest. Her ass pressed up against him.
“Careful, baby,” Annabeth mocked in a voice that sounded nothing like him, then yelped when he pinched her waist.
Coaxing, he led her to a kitchen stool and sat her on his lap. A long moment passed while she diligently drank all of her water. The coral necklace he’d gotten her all those years ago rested between her collarbones. Water dribbled down her chin and beaded on the pendant.
She set the glass down and held his hands so she could make him tighten his grip on her. “Can I tell you something really weird? Like. Actually weird.”
“Try me.”
“Promise not to judge.”
“I promise.”
A bashful expression crawled over her face, a blush biting at the tips of her ears. “Today, after you finished the relay. I was just thinking—well, you looked really good. And I was thinking about how no one else knows that you have to purposefully make yourself stay wet. Or that you’re kind of a cheater. Or that you have a really nice dick. And I was thinking that I wanted to fuck you in front of everybody.”
In any other circumstance, he would have poked fun, but he could tell this was actually a very vulnerable moment for his drunk girlfriend.
“That’s not weird, Annabeth.”
“It’s not?” she implored. She plucked an ice cube from the water glass and ran it over her lips like chapstick, leaving them glistening like Camp Half-Blood strawberries in the early morning.
He shook his head. “Sometimes, I think like that too. You know how you said I was teasing you today?”
“Mhm,” she hummed. A frown tugged at her lips. “I forgot—wasn’t I supposed to punish you?”
“Whenever you want,” he assured. “What I’m saying is that I think I did that for the same reasons.”
Annabeth popped the ice into her mouth and brought her knees up to her chest, attempting to wiggle out of her panties. He hooked a finger through the side and dragged them down her legs. The material fell at his feet and her wet center seeped through to his boxers. The ice cube had shrunk minimally once she took it back out. Without hesitation, she brought it down to touch her clit.
“Because you wanted your team to watch us have sex?”
That wasn’t why—he didn’t know how to articulate why—but he definitely didn’t want his teammates to get to see her like that ever. He wasn’t close with the rest of the guys, and he didn’t care what they thought of him. Still, there was this part of him that, admittedly, wasn’t immune to gloating. She was right: he was kind of cheating. It wasn’t like he consciously willed the water when he competed, though it was impossible to separate the nature of his parenthood from his performance. He didn’t get to be proud of his abilities or medals or athletic scholarship.
He did, though, get to have Annabeth.
And that wasn’t something he was great at being modest about. That a girl like her would be with him, that she sat up in the first row of the stands every meet without fail, and didn’t wait for him to dry before she tossed her arms around him when it was over.
“Because I like to show I’m yours,” he said finally. “You can do whatever you want with me.”
Her eyes practically sparkled.
Curiously, Annabeth dragged the ice down to her swollen core, then pressed it shallowly into her opening. The cube quickly melted in her heat, and then it was like there was nothing there at all. She seemed to like the sensation, though, if the way her other hand gripped his arm with increasing intensity was any indication. Then her fingers wrapped around two of his and thrusted them inside of her.
The familiar feeling of her, feverish and tender and tight around him excited every neuron in his body. He thought about her little dress, the thin outline of her blue thong, her tan thighs, and how he wanted to do this all along. How he wanted so bad to press her back against his chest and make her come in front of the locker room mirrors.
Annabeth tucked her cheek into her shoulder. “Can you…”
He bit her nose. “Hm?”
“Move—them. Please?”
Percy curled a finger up against a firm wall. Her whole body softened, tense muscles going slack. All pliant and putty, waiting so patiently for his every move.
“Gods, Annabeth. How am I supposed to tell you no?”
“Don’t.” She breathed shakily. “This is what I wanted you to do at the restaurant.”
His cock stirred under her ass, and he felt a familiar rush. “Yeah? You wanted me to finger you right there, baby? Show everyone how pretty you are when you come?”
Annabeth nodded. With newfound motor control, she lifted herself off of him and turned so she could properly grind on his now mostly-hard cock. His forehead was sticky against her chest as he moaned into her skin. He bit and sucked until her skin turned a dark shade of maroon, imagining her in the corner seat of the booth, taking careful sips of her drink and pretending to listen to the conversation surrounding them, ignoring the hand he kept on her thigh until she couldn’t anymore, until she inched further off the bench so his hand would move closer to where she wanted him, as if he could push into her right then. He definitely shouldn’t have let her order another drink, and then another. He probably should have just brought her to the bathroom and satisfied her then. Should have brought her back to the table all fucked out the way she gets; eyes dazed and lips swollen and face rosy, her cute little hairdo roughed up.
“Percy,” she said gently. He looked up, breathing hard as she moved rhythmically in his lap, desperate to satisfy her.
Her soft palm held the side of his face, her thumb petting the bridge of his nose. Then she lifted her hand and struck him once.
If he had been any more aroused, he was certain he would have finished in his boxers purely on impact. “Fuck,” he groaned, his head lulling in the momentum. “Do it again.”
Annabeth, who seemed very taken with whatever mark that had begun to bloom on his face, bit her lip. “Will you fuck me if I do?”
“No.”
“Then, no.” A purehearted, simple laugh of joy rang in the air. “Percy, it’s not a punishment if you like it.”
His cheek tingled. “You should keep trying until we find something I hate.”
“I can feel you getting harder just thinking about it.”
He held her hips and rocked her down, making sure her clit caught the brunt of the friction. Eager to replicate the feeling, she took control of the pace and kept her hands on his shoulders for support. Her fingernails digged into his skin as she slotted his cloth-covered erection right where it would fit into her.
His breath hitched, tortured by pleasure and anticipation, as felt her wetness make tantalizing contact with the head of his cock. “That’s it, baby, use me. Whatever you want.”
Under most circumstances, he hated making her work too hard, but there wasn’t much else he could do besides watch as she rolled her hips, abs flexing with each forward stroke, not letting his cock slip from where she had precariously positioned it. He knew, even if he didn’t see the wobble of her plump bottom lip, that it wouldn’t be enough even if it felt good.
She wrapped her arms around him and cuddled into the crook of neck, her nose poking at his jugular. “Don’t wanna come again,” she mumbled. “”m gonna wait.”
Sunlight beamed through the kitchen windows and her skin turned gold under its touch. He traced the ridges of her spine, up to where her hair parted, and massaged her scalp. She sighed sweetly.
“We can wait,” he said—because he knew it was true even if he was pretty sure he could finish again right now under the slightest provocation. Nonetheless, he tried to steel himself as best as he could with her fully nude, sitting directly on his dick, her lemon and vanilla perfume clinging to the air in sultry union.
She did him the grace of shifting her weight onto one of his thighs, both her knees the space between his legs, revealing a new wet spot on his boxers. Her feet dangled off the kitchen stool, a similar bored expression on her face as when she has to sit through the duration of a swim meet that didn’t involve him. She was very good at waiting, even if he couldn’t stand making her do it.
Thoughtfully, she suggested, “We should make a video.”
He huffed a dismissive chuckle. “Okay.”
“No, I’m serious. For the next time I need to…you know.”
“Rub one out in the car?” he supplied
She nodded.
“I think that’s your third marg talking.”
“She and I have really good ideas. We’re thinking about what we should do next time you’re mean, since apparently you like being slapped so much.”
Percy hummed, and kissed her sweaty forehead. “Let me know when you figure it out.”