Fractals

Fractals Chapter Thirty Seven (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… Send snow! *G* InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are wondermous and loverly for archiving/hosting! ProPhile: *poke* NOW the smut… Morgan: *tackleglomp * Readers/Reviewers: Sorry for the lack of promised smut in the last chapter. Things got in the way. Moof. Anyway, on with the show, as it were…

“Jesus, Theresa! What’re you doing?” Sam batted at her hands frantically, sleep quickly abandoning him.
“Take your pants off,” she explained patiently. “What does it look like?” She frowned and rocked back on her heels. “Lift your hips.”
“It looks like you’re gonna get me killed!” he hissed. “Your dad’s still here!” He scooted as far back on the bed as he could and looked around in a mild panic. Roberto was still downstairs, it seemed, no doubt trying to catch up on the material he had missed during class when he had been drawing his funny but rather pornographic comic featuring large breasted women and vague BDSM themes.1
“My father,” Theresa sighed, reaching for his pants again, “is downstairs with Rahne and Lucas, waiting for his moms. He won’t be up here at all tonight, so ha.” She smiled triumphantly as she managed to tug his pajama bottoms down to his knees. “Now was that so bad?”
“It will be when I wake up with a pissed off father handing me my genitalia on a platter!” he hissed as she stretched out along side him, draping one leg across his hips. “You’re naked!” he squeaked belatedly. The expanse of smooth, warm, bare thigh sliding across his now-naked body made the blood rush first to his face then beat a hasty retreat downward, leaving him slightly lightheaded.
Theresa grinned. “You catch on, farm boy. Now, what’s this?” She took his hand and placed it over her breast, pressing against it a bit. “Short word, one syllable, sounds like…”
“Theresa!”
“No, not at all. I was going to say sounds like crest or even tube or mit but…” she trailed off. “Oh, unclench! No one is going to catch us!” She rolled away for a moment to glare at him. “Sam, you know we don’t get much time alone…why are you trying to make this difficult?”
Sam groaned softly, pulling the sheet up over their nudity and kicking his pajama bottoms down without thinking about it. “Because I really am too young to die, you know. You’ll get off with a scolding but me… hell, Banshee will hang me by my…er…bits… from the flagpole!” He sighed as she fixed him with an annoyed glare. “Theresa, please…”
“Okay,” she shrugged, sliding from the bed and standing naked in the semi-dark of the room. “Your loss.” She did not bother to cover herself as she walked slowly to the door where she had left her clothes in a pile on the floor. She made a small show of bending over to retrieve them, slowly pulling the t-shirt over her head before stepping into her panties, smoothing her hands over them before picking up her robe.
Sam groaned again. “Damn it, you practiced that, didn’t you?” he sighed, flopping onto his back.
She smiled. “Hmmm?” She walked slowly back to the bed, her hips swaying as she did so, her expression guileless. “I have no idea what you mean.” She crawled onto the bed, kneeling as she shed her shirt then stretching out along side him again. “I’m not naked now,” she pointed out.”
“So I gather,” he sighed. He skimmed his hand over her side to her hip and paused. “What’re you in such a good mood for, anyway? I thought it was therapy day.”
“It was,” she shrugged, moving suddenly and pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips. “But it’s over.” She leaned forward and kissed him then, cutting off whatever it was he might have said. After a minute, she had to break for breath. She added, “Why do you sound so suspicious?”
“It’s just…” He toyed with the edge of her panties and shrugged, trying not to sound like an ass, “you’ve been really…um…pissy lately.”
She raised both brows at that. “Pissy? What? Am I supposed to be Mary Fucking Sunshine all the time?” she demanded, standing to balance over him. Rather then step off the bed and get dressed in a huff, as he expected, she simply stepped out of her underwear and flung them to join her shirt before resettling. “You know, most guys wouldn’t bitch about their girlfriend… any woman, really… being naked in their bed. You sure you’re straight?”
Sam glared. “Yes, I’m pretty damn sure I’m straight!” He reached for her hips only to have him slap his hands away. “Hey!”
“I’m on top. My turn,” she smiled, leaning forward to brace her hands against his chest.
Sam hissed a breath as she slid her sex over his, the wet warmth of her body gripping at him, making it hard to form a coherent sentence as she took him slowly. He bit his tongue to keep quiet as she brushed a kiss over his lips, then his throat before she began to move. For several long moments he dared not open his eyes because he knew what he would see: Theresa, near pagan in her wantonness, skin bare and silvered in the moonlight, eyes half-lidded in desire, lips parted as she gasped for breath, all the while moving, undulating and bouncing and pure kinetic lust as she brought both of them closer to the edge with each passing second. It was almost too much to try and control, the urge to let the heat seeping from her body to his simply explode inside, fill him with the swirling release that would make him cry out, make him arch into her and be his completion while leaving her bereft of such pleasures, but he managed to hold onto the edge of the need, to keep it in check but just barely as Theresa’s throaty moan filled the room. Sam gazed up at her, her pink lip captured in her teeth as she strove for relative silence, the glittering shine of her eyes in the half light, the faint sheen of sweat on her breasts and stomach, and he could not resist after all. He moved one hand from her hip to the apex of her sex, pressed against him as she ground her hips to his, and after a moment, he found the pearl of her desire. Theresa’s high pitched gasp send a jolt straight down his spine as he began to circle the nub and rub it gently as she moved. He could feel her body grip at him tightly, milking him almost, and he groaned. It was no use even pretending. He closed his eyes and tried not to be too loud as his body gave over to the desire and he filled her. Theresa gasped sharply and dug her nails into his chest in her own effort to keep silent, her own release coming soon after his. She arched her back, her breasts thrusting forward in a way that would have been more enticing if he had not been so suddenly tired. She gasped his name and shuddered, groaning one last time before shifting off of him, ignoring the need to clean up for the moment. “Well,” he breathed as she pressed against his side, “you seem to be in a better mood now.”
“Don’t make me bite you,” she sighed. “In a not fun way.”
Sam laughed and was about to reply when a soft knock fell on his door. Theresa’s eyes went wide and she rolled off the bed onto the floor, taking the sheet with her. “Who is it?” Sam asked too fast, too high.
“It’s Sean.”
From under the bed came a soft hiss. Sam felt his heart stop. “Um….justaminuteberightthere!” He leapt from the bed, grabbed his pajama bottoms and kicked Theresa’s clothes to Roberto’s side of the room. He opened the door a moment after breaking speed records for dressing. “Hi,” he said, forcing a yawn and trying to look sleepy and not as if he had just had sex.
Sean stared at him for a moment. “You’re bleeding.”
Sam waited for the follow up to the adjective then realized belatedly Sean meant literally and was not being very Irish. “Oh, uh… must’ve happened in my sleep or something…” He knew that he was blushing furiously but could not help it. “Nightmare,” he muttered, looking down at his bare feet.
“Right,” Sean replied, still staring. “Um, Storm and I have to go out for a bit and...” He paused, sighing. “I hate to give you so much responsibility but I know you and your sister have the most experience, aside from Kurt, with dealing with kids. I need for the three of you to help Beast keep an eye on things while we’re gone. Lucas is still here and I don’t know where Wanda and Tabby are, but Storm and I have…business…to attend to and can’t monitor things here.”
Sam nodded, not even thinking to ask why the other adults could not monitor, so grateful was he that Sean was not ripping is gonads out through his throat. “Sure, no problem… I’ll just…” His eyes followed Sean’s suddenly interested gaze. Theresa’s panties were still on the floor in plain sight. “Oh…um. Roberto,” he began.
Sean shook his head. “I don’t want to know. That boy gets into more trouble…” he shook his head and turned to head to Kurt’s room to repeat his request.
Sam shut the door and vented a harsh, shaking sigh. “God damn,” he breathed. “That was close.”
Theresa wiggled out from under the bed, her expression intent. “Something’s up,” she announced.
“I think something damn near retreated into my chest cavity after that scare,” he muttered, looking up at her. “What?”
“Something’s going on and I want to know why all the secretive,” she replied, dressing. “I’m going to find out.”
“What? Theresa…” he shook his head. “Don’t be silly. You can’t follow ‘em or something…”
“Can’t I?” she grinned. “Watch me.”
1 Will the Boob Squad please raise their hands? *eg*