a_spare_person (a_spare_person) wrote in passion_perfect,
a_spare_person
a_spare_person
passion_perfect

Dollhouse: Adelle/Ivy, Actually, They're Nylons.

 Title: Actually, They're Nylons.
Author: a_spare_person
Fandom: Guiding Light 
Pairing:  Dollhouse - Adelle/Ivy
Rating: NC17. 
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc. 
A/N: Written for the porn battle.  Prompt: Doll
house, Adelle/Ivy, nylons


Follow the cut...

Adelle preferred to shop alone.  There had been an occasion, though, during an out-of-town business trip, when a piece of lost luggage had prompted an urgent trip to the shops to replace the next day’s attire.  A colleague had given her a ride, and wandered into the lingerie boutique with her a little nervously.

        “Not to worry, Edmund,” Adelle winked at her colleague, who was pulling at the tie around his neck uncomfortably.  “Just nylons.”

        Adelle made her way briskly to the counter and gave a few specifics to the attendant.  Less than a minute later, Adelle was paying for her nylons, and Edmund overheard the cashier say what sounded like “One-hundred fifty-nine dollars and six cents.”  Edmund moved to closer to the register.  He couldn’t believe he had heard correctly.

        “How the bloody hell much do pantyhose cost?” he asked, horror-stricken.

        “Pantyhose,” Adelle began, shooting him a pointed look, “cost five-ninety nine at your local retailer.  Pantyhose sag, run, and stretch out.  Teenagers and entry-level secretaries wear pantyhose.  I wear nylons.”

        “Surely they don’t all cost that much.”

        “Surely not.”

        “You must really like these.”

        “I do.”

 

        At this particular moment, she did not.  The waist of her nylons was holding its place firmly beneath the belt that was cinched neatly at the top of her skirt.  Adelle ordinarily valued this, but it was making it awfully hard to fully appreciate the hand between her legs.

        “Jesus Christ, Adelle,” Ivy hissed, as her hands slid up and down Adelle’s thighs, “it’s like having sex with a Barbie doll.  You know there should be something there, but it’s just this smoothed over—“

        “Take off my fucking belt,” Adelle snapped.

        Ivy gave a wicked grin.  “Yes, ma’am.”  She kept one hand wedged firmly between Adelle’s legs and moved the other toward the buckle of the black belt on the other side of the silky red fabric of Adelle’s skirt.  Adelle moaned, thrusting her hips downward against Ivy’s hand.  “Patience,” Ivy hummed.

        The younger woman began to fumble around the belt, which, it turned out, had no buckle.  The whole thing seemed to be one inexplicably seamless black braid.

        “Ivy, please,” Adelle began to beg.

        “Oh my fucking god,” Ivy growled in frustration.  She reached beneath Adelle’s skirt with both hands, gripped her hipbones and shoved her up against the wall.  Adelle let out a little gasp.  Ivy used her teeth to pull back Adelle’s already unbuttoned blouse and began to gnaw on the lacey fabric of the older woman’s bra.  “Why,” Ivy bit down at the hardened flesh pressing against the lace, “of all days,” and ran her tongue beneath the edge of the bra, “did you choose to wear a chastity belt… today?”

        Adelle tore her hands away from Ivy’s shoulders, leaving ten bright red, crescent shaped nail-marks behind, and began to feel around her own belt.  Unable to find the clasps she had fastened so carefully that morning, Adelle threw her fists upward, hitting the wall.  “Oh, come ON!”  she pleaded.  “At least I knew better than to wear panties.”  She raised an eyebrow.

        Ivy glared up at her, and moved roughly to Adelle’s other breast, exploring it with the same perfect ministrations of lips, teeth, and breath.  She could feel Adelle straining against her hands, which still held her hips firmly to the wall.

        Adelle squirmed as one hand  made its way from her hip to her thigh, and then upward.  Adelle groaned at the pressure of Ivy’ hand against her throbbing clit, even through the thin veil of the nylons.  Ivy ran her hand smoothly over the hot, slick stretch of nylon, and let out a low chuckle as she felt the texture change beneath her fingers.  She pulled her hand away, against Adelle’s whimpers of protest, and brought her finger to her mouth.  She smiled at the confirmation, and returned her hand to Adelle.  “You are so wet.”

        Adelle couldn’t respond with words.  Ivy was tracing over her nylons with a single fingernail, and Adelle could feel the gentle tug at each thread of nylon, could feel the threads absolutely pounding against her.  She grasped at her own hair, gripped by need.

        “Maybe this will work out after all,” Ivy murmured.  She pressed two fingers against the barely-discernable pulse beneath Adelle’s nylons and began a gentle, rhythmic stroke.  Adelle’s arms bolted down against Ivy’s shoulders again.  “Oh fuck, yes,” she moaned.

        All Adelle could do was imagine the soft skin of Ivy’s fingers working precisely to bring her to the edge.  She could feel that precision diffused into the weave of the nylon, summoning a pounding ache that waited impatiently for release.  Each of Ivy’s strokes sent a shimmer of dissipated movement through the nylon, and against the most sensitive part of her body.  She bit her lip.

        Ivy increased the pressure of her fingers, and Adelle’s hips began to buck to meet Ivy’s fingers that much harder.  The increase in pressure was causing the nylon fabric to pull slightly away from Adelle’s skin, so that in addition to the muted presence of Ivy’s fingers, Adelle was also being tormented by the stimulation of the nylon, which rose and fell like a throbbing second skin.

Ivy’s hand was absolutely coated in moisture that had seeped through the nylon, and she was pretty sure that no matter what astronomical price Adelle had probably paid for them, she probably wouldn’t be wearing them again.  She hoped she wouldn’t, anyway.  Kind of.  She grinned devilishly into Adelle’s breast.  She began to subtly shift her fingers downward, where she could feel the greatest wetness.  Adelle lifted one of her legs and locked it behind Ivy, pulling her close to retain as much contact as possible.  Ivy took advantage of the new leverage she had, and plunged her fingers uncertainly as deeply possible as she could.

Adelle actually cried out at the sudden penetration.  To Ivy’s surprise, the nylons held firm.  “What the fuck?” Ivy exclaimed.  “Is this a nylon-steel blend?”

“Keep doing that,” Adelle pleaded.

“Seriously?” Ivy couldn’t imagine how pleasurable the inch-and-a-half of penetration she’d managed from the nylon’s hold could possibly have elicited the response that it had.  But the penetration had been almost ethereal, the actual volume of Ivy’s finger somehow distorted by the unfamiliar texture.  Besides that, the pull of the fabric had wrapped Adelle’s clit in the damp nylon, creating a temperature and texture that changed from the cool, delicate press of the fabric to a hot, slickened glide as it made contact.  Adelle had her eyes closed, unable to allow any additional stimulation to reach her brain.  ‘Please, don’t stop,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” Ivy replied with a playful glint in her eye.  “I’ll wait until you’re trying to muffle your screams against my neck before I pull away.”  Ivy continued the thrusting of her fingers as promised.  She loosened her hold against Adelle’s hip as she felt the other woman’s knees weakening.  She wrapped her am around Adelle’s waist, somehow managing to support her between her own body and the wall as Adelle’s movements became more erratic.

It took very little time before the stream of sensations tearing through Adelle’s body brought her to the cusp, though it felt like an eternity.  She nestled her face into the creamy expanse of Ivy’s neck, and began a low cry as she felt herself beginning to peak.  Ivy continued her thrusts with greater urgency, and then felt Adelle’s entire body seize up around her as the older woman let out loud cries, punctuated with desperate gasps as the orgasm took hold and ran course from her clit, to her spine, down to her hands and toes.  She sank exhaustedly into Ivy, who, equally tired, lowered Adelle gently to the floor.  As Ivy straddled her legs around Adelle and leaned forward to nip at the older woman’s ear, she heard a knock against the floor.

Ivy rolled her eyes.  “You have got to be kidding me.”  Adelle’s belt had finally managed to loosen itself, and clattered to the floor.  Ivy felt beneath Adelle’s skirt, found the waistband of the nylons, and slid them off of Adelle’s legs, which goosebumped at the loss of the thin web of protection.  She dipped her head beneath the skirt, and took a long lap at Adelle’s finally exposed flesh.  Adelle kicked her leg out involuntarily.

“No, no more!” she said in a distant voice.  The feeling of Ivy’s tongue against her sopping clit, finally free of the nylon, felt like polished glass.

Ivy rolled her eyes again.  “I suppose I’ll always be fucking you in your pantyhose, now.”

“Nylons,” Adelle corrected.

“Whatever.”  Ivy rolled herself off of Adelle, picked up the nylons, and put her toe into the foothold experimentally.

“What are you doing?” Adelle asked, beginning to regain composure.

Ivy gave a last tug, and pulled the waistband of Adelle’s nylons to her own waist.  The cool moisture that had gathered between the legs of the nylons heated and mingled with her own.  “Finding out what all the fuss is about,” she said huskily.

 

        “You must really like these.”

        “I do.”



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