sampippy | A Dorm Room at Voorhees Hall, Columbia University, New York, Sunday

"I did not want you to think this," he ground against her, freer now that she had said this was what she wanted, "was the only reason I had come for you."

Had he stressed those last few words, purred them into her ear?

Very yes.

"But it's been so long since I've felt you around me that I'll not deny it was a factor as well. Blessed Elua, cherie, it feels so good to be pressed against you this way."

Good enough that he wasn't quite moving towards the other side of the couch just yet.

It had been almost a year since he'd been here last. And, here was the thing: a year was a long time. And even though Xanthippe hadn't been able to find anyone even half as good as he was around here, that didn't mean she hadn't gotten some practice in, in all her mediocre hookups and sext-y Tinder chats.

And that meant that she was a little more free and relaxed with her reactions than she had been last time. She gasped when his hips pressed against hers, and snickered quietly at the purred pun. It was hot, definitely, like 'hashtag byepanties, hashtag takemenow' hot, but she could also appreciate other aspects.

Also, she could put her own lips close to his ear, and ask, "Yeah, but how good is it gonna feel when I'm riding you on the couch?"

Hyacinthe looked at her in surprise and then laughed - not at her, but in delighted surprise. The Xan he'd visited last would never have been able to say something so freely. "I cannot wait to find out," he said, suddenly finding the will to move where she was pushing him. "I look forward to having my mouth on your breasts as I do."

He was still likely to meet some not-insignificant trace amounts of old Xan even during this visit. But she'd learned things about herself, and about not taking everything so seriously.

And he was a safe person to try that out on. Especially because he'd react like that (so no, she didn't take his laugh for anything other than what it was), and because he was not likely to embarrass her even if he decided to comment on this change in her.

It all added up to her pleased little smile at him as they moved. "Yeah, I thought you'd be into that."

Of course. A year was rarely long enough to change everything about oneself - and he would be disappointed if she had, as he had liked old Xanthippe, quite a bit. But he would hardly complain to discover some newfound confidence and that resultant loss of seriousness. If for no other reason than she deserved to know she was beautiful, desirable, and too good to change herself for others' opinions.

"I am in fact kicking myself for not having spent an appropriate amount of time fantasizing about this before," he told her. "And here, I thought I'd imagined all the ways I could have you. Then, not yet ten minutes in the door, you remind me of one I missed entirely."

"Wow, failll, Hyacinthe," Xanthippe told him, leading him around the couch. But kind of slowly, just because she wasn't interested in pulling at all away from him. So it was kind of a lot of shuffling.

But shuffling hips to hips led to a lot of friction, which was fine.

"But you can make it up to me --" Because somehow this was a fail that hurt her? Enough that it needed making up for? "-- by telling me about some of the versions you did fantasize about."

Wait? She wanted him to use his words? For her pleasure?

Yeah, he could do that.

"Well, most of the time when I thought of the couch, I imagined you perched on the back of it, naked, with your legs wrapped around my waist," he explained, his hand slipping up to fill his palm with her breast. "And then I would have picked you up and pushed you against the nearest wall to continue to give it to you, deep and hard whilst you moaned in my ear."

And this was a good example of how, even though she'd grown a little more comfortable with herself, he wouldn't have to worry about not having a very significant impact on her. Because she definitely gave a little gasp at his words. It was just that she also pretty readily pressed against his hand.

"Okay, we should totally do that later." She remembered his last visit vividly, okay. There was zero reason to pretend they were going to bang just the once. "Especially the wall part, because that sounds..."

She couldn't even find a word for it. After a few seconds of searching for one, she just said, "I want that."

"Oh yes," he agreed, licking up her neck. "I promise you we will." His hand pressed back, cupping her hard. "My other fantasy with the couch involved bending you over it, my hand in your hair and seeing how hard you can take it."

"Oh my God." Yes, that definitely hit some kind of a pleasurable spot in her mind, you could tell by the wide eyes. "Okay, that too. Might have to prioritize, 'cause my roommates are coming back in the evening, but I have a desk in my room that probably works too? I mean, the bending over's more important than the furniture."

She was still kind of babbly, but now some of it was dirtier.

"Also it would be nice to have, like, something better to associate it with than term papers and googling whether tears are bad for a MacBook keyboard." Also related to the term papers. "I mean, anything's a better memory than that, but if I can upgrade it to you pulling my hair and like, pushing me to my limits, I'll super take it." A beat. "I guess that goes for the memory and your dick both."

Hey, wait. They'd made it to the front of the couch. So, she gave him a light push so that he'd sit down. It meant giving up his hand for a second, but they'd live.

Hyacinthe sat, grinning up at her with open admiration. "You can have me wherever and however you wish, cherie. Over your desk, against a wall, on my knees..." He peppered her throat with kisses, keeping his hips up so they could open his pants. "I'll give you everything you ask for." Kiss. "Beg." Kiss. "Demand."

Xanthippe had missed that look, too. But really, any look of his because they all seemed to see something completely different in her than what anyone else saw, and it was always something she was greedy for.

She was straddling him, her knees on either side of him on the couch, and she knew she would still have to get up so she could get out of her jeans, but right now she was fine letting him distract her with kisses while she reached down to undo his pants. "If you'd texted me you were coming, I would've worn a skirt."

Just so he knew.

"But then it wouldn't have been a surprise," Hyacinthe said with a grin, his hands pushing her bra up out of the way because, Elua, he wanted to feel her skin under his hands. "Besides, did I tell you I was coming, I'd want you to greet me wearing nothing a'tall."

"Didn't say I was gonna be wearing, like, underwear under the skirt," Xanthippe pointed out, with a shiver because, Elua or no Elua, his hands felt great on her breasts. "So, like, still easy but without you trying to fuck me in the doorway."

Not that there was anything wrong with doing it in the doorway, provided the door was closed.

"'Tis a fair point," Hyacinthe mused, a hand slipping behind to unclasp the bra and remove it immediately. "Did I see you bare, I could not promise that I could do aught beyond fall to my knees and worship you with my mouth, before I even fully got inside."

He leveled a smirk at her. "But, believe me, I would have every intention of getting inside."

Xanthippe snickered a little, then ducked down to kiss him. Just a bit.

Mostly to distract him from how she'd managed to push his pants down, so that she could now wrap her hand around his cock.

Hya grinned up into that kiss - which turned into a groan as he felt her hand. "Cherie," he mumbled against her mouth, hips thrusting up into her fist.

Xanthippe looked far too pleased with herself for that groan. Not that he could see it, what with the kissing, but still.

Her touch was a lot more confident, this time around. She didn't hesitate before giving him a couple of strokes, slow but firm, making sure to drag the pad of her thumb along the underside and lightly brush it over the tip when she got to it.

"I am yours, Xanthippe, do what you will with me," Hya joked, sprawling backwards on the couch, eyes closed. "So long as you keep doing that, I welcome servitude gladly."

"You can start by saying my name again."

He didn't stumble over it like some people did. Like a lot of people did.

And she didn't think the hand on him would change that any, not even with a few quicker strokes. And firmer.

It was like these people didn't have a thorough historical Hellenic grounding. Hyacinthe was no scholar and certainly couldn't speak the language, but who didn't know the name of Socrates' wife?

"Xanthippe," Hyacinthe sighed, thrusting his hips up to her hand. "Do you want me to cry your name while you ride me? Do you want to hear how it sounds when I'm coming deep inside you?" He tried to tug her down on top of him, wanting those sweet nipples in his mouth.

It was like people in places of higher education still managed to be pretty uneducated.

Xanthippe let herself be tugged down, using her free hand for support by his shoulder. "Yes," she sighed, "and yes. And, like, in any other situation you can think of." Which were many, she was sure. "Like..." She had to swallow, then wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Then she smirked a little. "Like, whispering it in my ear when you're holding me to your chest, and you're fingerbanging me, right before you tell me to tell you when I'm... close."

Hyacinthe smiled up at her. "Sounds like something you've thought about," he noted, voice a little deeper than before. "If I ask nicely, Xanthippe, will you tell me all the dirty fantasies you have?"

And then his mouth met her breast, sucking in the tip to lave with his tongue over and over again until it was a sharp bud in his mouth.

"Depends on how nicely... you ask."

Or how well he put her in a mindset where she felt comfortable to share. But judging by how haltingly that came out because halfway through her eyes fluttered closed, because his mouth on her breast was another thing she'd missed? It wasn't actually going to be much of a problem.

Hyacinthe didn't point out he was very good at asking nicely. He rather thought he was demonstrating the point.

With one last hard suck on the first breast, he kissed and licked his way over to the second, intent on giving it the same treatment. He wanted her soft and moaning, already imagining that first deep thrust up into her on the couch.

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