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silentdescanttitle: When I Met You, You Were On Your Back
pairing: Frank/Jamia with past Frank/Gerard
rating: NC-17
words: 2600+
summary: Jamia has a surprise for Frank.
warning: het, pegging, handcuffs, mild D/s themes
disclaimer: I don't own them and I'm not claiming this is true. Title from a song by The Academy Is...
Frank grins up at her when she snaps the padded handcuffs around his wrists. They're really nice, good quality, a thin layer of foam covered by faux leather lining the inside, a sturdy chain, currently looped through one of the bars on their headboard, connecting them. He'd dropped good money on them, along with the rest of their kit. They'd played with cheap sex toys before; this was infinitely better. Jamia tightens both cuffs around Frank, then backs away, stepping off the end of the bed.
"Y'know," he calls to her, "Gee was telling me yesterday about this thing Lindsey got for him--"
"I know," Jamia interrupts. She's partially hidden by the closet door, and Frank can hear her moving things around in there. There's the sharp sound of metal hangers sliding on the rod, then a muffled whump as something--maybe a stack of clothes, Frank's not sure--drops to the ground. Jamia pokes her head around the door and smirks. "I told her to buy it."
"Oh, real--Wait, really?" Frank shifts his arms in the cuffs and cranes his neck to try and see around the door. "Is that--Oh god. Is that what you said--"
"I figured you'd like it," Jamia says impishly. "I wasn't expecting Lyn to get it so fast; we haven't even tried it yet." Jamia reappears from behind the door, holding something behind her back. She's still dressed in a flared denim skirt and low-cut, knit top. "It was supposed to be a surprise."
Jamia doesn't really look all that annoyed at the surprise being ruined, but Frank shakes his head and says, "I'm surprised," anyway. She smiles. Frank's mouth goes dry.
She gets up onto the bed and throws one leg over Frank's waist, straddling him and leaning down to press a trail of kisses from Frank's bound wrists to the inside of his elbow. She then bends to kiss his open lips. When she pulls away, she whispers, "Do you want me to fuck you, Frankie?"
Frank can feel the hot breath of her words gusting over his lips, wet from their kiss, and he can't hold back a guttural moan, deep in his throat. "Yes, god, yes, please," he breathes. Jamia gives him a quick peck on the lips.
It's not like she's not aware of how much Frank likes being fucked; he's told her stories from when he and Gerard were together, and she's fingered him a few times during blowjobs, but it's never been much of an issue. Frank loves Jamia, and he's perfectly willing to give up being fucked through the mattress (floor, wall, whatever) if it means he gets her.
Jamia shifts back and nudges Frank's thighs apart with her palm, then settles between them. She slides her fingertips over the ink on Frank's belly, tracing the "And" and ending at the wingtips of the sparrow on his left hip, giggling when Frank's muscles tense and he presses up into her touch. With her other hand, Jamia follows the crease of his thigh down between his legs. Frank bits off an involuntary moan, feeling the familiar, shivery sensation in the pit of his stomach. His dick, already mostly hard from their earlier foreplay and the handcuffs, jerks to attention.
Jamia laughs. "God, Frank, how are you even real?" she teases. Leaving her hand where it is, she stretches over him and nips at his lower lip. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world."
Frank's tongue darts out and he arches his back slightly, enough for the head of his cock to slide wetly against the fabric on Jamia's stomach. "You think you're lucky..." he counters, ending in another moan.
Jamia kisses him then, and as he opens his mouth for her insistent tongue, she pushes one finger into him. With only his own sweat as lube, it stings a little bit, but Frank doesn't mind. He loses concentration and grinds his ass against her hand, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. She bites his lips again, and they feel swollen and bruised when Frank runs his tongue over them. After a few seconds, Jamia backs away, withdrawing her hand and the warmth of her body. Frank shivers and opens his eyes.
"I'm gonna go get changed," she says. "I'd tell you to entertain yourself while I'm gone, but seeing as you're kind of tied up right now..."
"Ugh, fuck you," Frank replies, twisting his wrists in the cuffs. The chain clinks against the headboard, sending a thrill to the base of his spine. "God, fuck me." Frank relaxes and drops his head back down to the pillow. He jerks his neck quickly to get the hair out of his face and feels it catch on the sweat-slick skin of his biceps.
Jamia had disappeared into the bathroom and Frank thinks about the last time he'd done this. Well, not this specifically; it would be a first for both of them. But the last time he'd been fucked was by Gerard, several years ago. Both of them had been working out their pre-show jitters, and that particular time it involved Gerard blowing him and then getting up off his knees and fucking him into the mirror, Frank's ass on the edge of the make-up counter with a plastic bin containing all their combined make-up digging into his lower back and the mirror heating rapidly against his shoulders. The next two nights, it was Frank on his knees and Gerard with his fingers tangled in Frank's hair, and then a week after that, they decided to end their relationship.
He hears a muffled sound from the bathroom and thinks now of Jamia's hand guiding his thighs apart, her index finger rubbing and pressing against his asshole and then pressing in, and Frank moans again at the sense memory.
He almost wishes he could touch himself now, wrap one hand firmly around his dick while the other followed the path Jamia's hand had traced, but he knows it's better this way. He'll last longer, for one, and for another, Frank knows Jamia gets off on teasing him just as much as he gets off on being forced into stillness.
Frank shifts around on the bed and moves his feet so his knees are bent, legs spread. He cracks the knuckles of one hand and takes a deep breath. Jamia opens the bathroom door.
She stands silhouetted, with her feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart and her hips cocked forward and slightly to one side. Her arms are crossed in front of her breasts, and she would look almost confrontational if not for the wide smirk alighting her face.
The harness around her pelvis looks a bit weird, but the dildo it holds is a pale, sparkly pink and shaped like a real--if unrealistically thick--cock. Any urges to giggle leave Frank in an instant and he bites his lip hard against an embarrassing whimper.
He tugs uselessly at the cuffs, reaching for her. "C'mere, c'mere, please," he whispers, and she does. She settles on her knees between his parted thighs again, resting a hand on each of his raised knees.
"Tell me how much you want it, Frankie," Jamia says, still smirking down at him. He licks his lips and presses his calf against her hip.
Frank had never been a talker, not in any of his relationships. With Gerard, the trick had been getting him to shut up, and with Jamia, she usually talks enough for the both of them, filing the silences with dirty whispers. Frank is just reduced to whimpers and animalistic groans and growls, though even that was more Gerard's thing than Frank's.
Jamia's hands slide along his inner thighs and Frank swallows twice before speaking. "I really fucking want it," he says. "I want it so bad, Jamia, please, please fuck me, please. I wanna feel you in me, I want that, I need it--"
She cuts him off with a kiss, and just as before, when Frank opens his mouth to her, she presses her finger into him. It's smoother this time, wet, and Frank hadn't even noticed the lube in her hand, he'd been so focused on her naked body, her cock. Frank moans into the kiss and sighs when she twists her finger, then adds another, carefully stretching him open.
"You convinced me," she whispers, and adds a third finger. The dildo looked thick; Frank wonders if she'll stop at three or slide her pinkie into him as well.
"Oh god, oh, fuck," Frank gasps suddenly. Jamia grins wickedly and curls her fingers like that again, producing the same vocal reaction. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Frank says.
His eyes are closed now and the cuffs are tight around his wrists, preventing him from flailing around and grabbing the bedsheets. He tosses his head to the side and grinds back onto Jamia's fingers, muttering, "Shit, Jamia, please, please fuck me, please, oh fuck."
"You love this," Frank hears her murmur from somewhere above him. He can't bring himself to open his eyes yet, so he settles for listening to the tell-tale squeeze of the lube bottle.
Jamia twists her three fingers inside him again and Frank hisses, "Yeah, god yes, shit, please more." The silicone dick pushes insistently against the inner part of his thigh, slick with lube and warming with Frank's own body heat.
Jamia's fingers disappear suddenly and Frank is surprised into opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is Jamia's face, creased with concentration as she looks down between their bodies and shuffles forward on her knees. She slides one slippery hand beneath his ass and guides him up a little bit.
The position puts strain on Frank's thighs and back, but he doesn't mind, he can hold it. "Okay?" Jamia asks, and Frank nods quickly, shaking a bead of sweat from his jaw. He feels it land on his throat and slide down.
The head of Jamia's dick pushes against his asshole and Frank almost collapses back to the bed. She wedges one knee beneath his thigh to help him stay up. Frank's eyelids slip shut again and his fingers flex against the headboard.
"Oh god, oh god," he sighs. The dildo's a lot thicker than Jamia's fingers, but she moves slowly and Frank relishes the stretch. He breathes out sharply through his nose, forcing himself to relax. Above him, Jamia bites off a whispered curse. She continues moving forward steadily until the dildo's fully inside him, then pauses to give Frank time to adjust. Frank flaps his hands, pants out wordless noises.
Jamia leans over him and mouths at his exposed, sweaty throat. "So hot like this, Frankie, so fucking sexy, taking this fucking cock up your ass." She tilts her hips and pulls out slightly. On the next thrust, Frank cries out and throws his head back into the pillow. Jamia bites his collarbone.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes, please, more, fuck," Frank moans.
"I see why Gee loved fucking you, baby, you're such a fucking cockslut."
"I am, yeah, please, Jamia, fuck, please."
Frank tenses his arms and arches his back, coming up almost fully off the bed. Jamia speeds up her thrusts, rocking in and out, and keeps biting and sucking bruises on his throat and chest. She holds herself up with one hand on the bed by Frank's ribs, and with the other, she reaches for his dick where it's trapped between them. Her fingers close around him, and though the angle is awkward, Frank gasps out his appreciation.
Jamia murmurs his name, her breath and tongue hot against his skin. Frank pushes back, meeting her thrusts. He can feel his body coiling, tensing for release, and his thighs shake with the effort of holding himself up. Jamia's hand on his cock shifts and she begins to stroke him in earnest, matching the rhythm to that of the thrusts of her hips.
"Jamia," Frank cries, "fuck, Jamia, Jamia, please, I want--"
She stretches up and covers his mouth with hers, drawing the sounds out of him. Frank closes his eyes and he can't hold off any longer; Jamia peppers kisses over his face and neck, murmuring to him as he comes, splattering her hand and both of their bellies. She smears her fingers through the mess on Frank's stomach and brings them up to Frank's mouth, and he's sucking them in before he even realizes what she's doing.
Jamia slows down her thrusts considerably but keeps moving, and Frank's muscles are burning with exertion. He feels like he's about to combust or collapse. Jamia pushes the dildo deep inside him; Frank's toes curl as he lets out a ragged moan. When she pulls out, she pulls out completely, and Frank's left feeling stretched open and worn thin, utterly used and empty. Locked in the cuffs, his wrists hang limp from the headboard.
He wants to touch, wants to gather Jamia in his arms and snuggle under the blankets and sleep, but he can't summon the energy to move. Being fucked always leaves him like this, dazed and kind of helpless. His eyelids flutter open and he sees Jamia's arms above him as she reaches for the latch on the handcuffs.
Frank's hands drop to the pillow. He breathes out a sigh that almost sounds like "Jamia," but he can't quite get the syllables right. She slides her palms along his arms, down to his shoulders, where she squeezes once. She shakes her head, tossing her hair out of her eyes, and bends down to kiss him again.
"So pretty like this, Frankie," she says. Gerard had often said similar things after they fucked, and Frank had just smiled softly and wrapped his arms around Gerard, pulling him close. He does that with Jamia now, and she kisses him deeply again. He opens completely under her lips and tongue. "You taste like come," she whispers. Frank feels a flash of warmth in the pit of his stomach. "You taste like sex."
Frank's limbs tingle and he tightens his arms briefly around Jamia. She'd taken off the harness, apparently while Frank had been out of it after his orgasm. He drags his hands down her back, squeezes her ass, and then slides one hand around her hip and then down between her thighs. She's slick under his hand, and he can tell by the way she holds herself that she's not in the mood to draw this out, not now. He slips two fingers into her, twisting his wrist and pressing his thumb to her clit. Jamia moans softly and clutches at his shoulders, tossing her head back, and Frank takes the opportunity to nuzzle into her chest, laying soft kisses to the tops of her breasts.
"Oh, oh, Frankie, oh god, Frankie--" she murmurs, and Frank keeps his hand moving. She spreads her legs, lifting one over his to straddle his thigh, and rocks her hips down onto his fingers. Her hands drift up from his shoulders to his hair, and she tugs gently until Frank lifts his head from her chest and looks up at her. She bends her neck and kisses him fiercely as she comes, making short, sharp noises in the back of her throat which Frank echoes, more quietly.
Jamia breaks their kiss and rolls off him, panting for breath. Frank twists onto his side to face her, one arm curled beneath his head and the other reaching out to stroke her hip. She grins, and he echoes her again, smiling softly.
"You look kind of blissed-out, baby," she whispers.
Frank's hand tightens on her hip and he tilts forward to kiss her again, gently parting her lips with his tongue. Everything's a bit blurry-edged and quiet, now. "I am," he replies simply.
"So we can do this again?" Jamia asks, smirking.
Frank laughs breathily. "Baby, I would beg for it."
fin.
pairing: Frank/Jamia with past Frank/Gerard
rating: NC-17
words: 2600+
summary: Jamia has a surprise for Frank.
warning: het, pegging, handcuffs, mild D/s themes
disclaimer: I don't own them and I'm not claiming this is true. Title from a song by The Academy Is...
Frank grins up at her when she snaps the padded handcuffs around his wrists. They're really nice, good quality, a thin layer of foam covered by faux leather lining the inside, a sturdy chain, currently looped through one of the bars on their headboard, connecting them. He'd dropped good money on them, along with the rest of their kit. They'd played with cheap sex toys before; this was infinitely better. Jamia tightens both cuffs around Frank, then backs away, stepping off the end of the bed.
"Y'know," he calls to her, "Gee was telling me yesterday about this thing Lindsey got for him--"
"I know," Jamia interrupts. She's partially hidden by the closet door, and Frank can hear her moving things around in there. There's the sharp sound of metal hangers sliding on the rod, then a muffled whump as something--maybe a stack of clothes, Frank's not sure--drops to the ground. Jamia pokes her head around the door and smirks. "I told her to buy it."
"Oh, real--Wait, really?" Frank shifts his arms in the cuffs and cranes his neck to try and see around the door. "Is that--Oh god. Is that what you said--"
"I figured you'd like it," Jamia says impishly. "I wasn't expecting Lyn to get it so fast; we haven't even tried it yet." Jamia reappears from behind the door, holding something behind her back. She's still dressed in a flared denim skirt and low-cut, knit top. "It was supposed to be a surprise."
Jamia doesn't really look all that annoyed at the surprise being ruined, but Frank shakes his head and says, "I'm surprised," anyway. She smiles. Frank's mouth goes dry.
She gets up onto the bed and throws one leg over Frank's waist, straddling him and leaning down to press a trail of kisses from Frank's bound wrists to the inside of his elbow. She then bends to kiss his open lips. When she pulls away, she whispers, "Do you want me to fuck you, Frankie?"
Frank can feel the hot breath of her words gusting over his lips, wet from their kiss, and he can't hold back a guttural moan, deep in his throat. "Yes, god, yes, please," he breathes. Jamia gives him a quick peck on the lips.
It's not like she's not aware of how much Frank likes being fucked; he's told her stories from when he and Gerard were together, and she's fingered him a few times during blowjobs, but it's never been much of an issue. Frank loves Jamia, and he's perfectly willing to give up being fucked through the mattress (floor, wall, whatever) if it means he gets her.
Jamia shifts back and nudges Frank's thighs apart with her palm, then settles between them. She slides her fingertips over the ink on Frank's belly, tracing the "And" and ending at the wingtips of the sparrow on his left hip, giggling when Frank's muscles tense and he presses up into her touch. With her other hand, Jamia follows the crease of his thigh down between his legs. Frank bits off an involuntary moan, feeling the familiar, shivery sensation in the pit of his stomach. His dick, already mostly hard from their earlier foreplay and the handcuffs, jerks to attention.
Jamia laughs. "God, Frank, how are you even real?" she teases. Leaving her hand where it is, she stretches over him and nips at his lower lip. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world."
Frank's tongue darts out and he arches his back slightly, enough for the head of his cock to slide wetly against the fabric on Jamia's stomach. "You think you're lucky..." he counters, ending in another moan.
Jamia kisses him then, and as he opens his mouth for her insistent tongue, she pushes one finger into him. With only his own sweat as lube, it stings a little bit, but Frank doesn't mind. He loses concentration and grinds his ass against her hand, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. She bites his lips again, and they feel swollen and bruised when Frank runs his tongue over them. After a few seconds, Jamia backs away, withdrawing her hand and the warmth of her body. Frank shivers and opens his eyes.
"I'm gonna go get changed," she says. "I'd tell you to entertain yourself while I'm gone, but seeing as you're kind of tied up right now..."
"Ugh, fuck you," Frank replies, twisting his wrists in the cuffs. The chain clinks against the headboard, sending a thrill to the base of his spine. "God, fuck me." Frank relaxes and drops his head back down to the pillow. He jerks his neck quickly to get the hair out of his face and feels it catch on the sweat-slick skin of his biceps.
Jamia had disappeared into the bathroom and Frank thinks about the last time he'd done this. Well, not this specifically; it would be a first for both of them. But the last time he'd been fucked was by Gerard, several years ago. Both of them had been working out their pre-show jitters, and that particular time it involved Gerard blowing him and then getting up off his knees and fucking him into the mirror, Frank's ass on the edge of the make-up counter with a plastic bin containing all their combined make-up digging into his lower back and the mirror heating rapidly against his shoulders. The next two nights, it was Frank on his knees and Gerard with his fingers tangled in Frank's hair, and then a week after that, they decided to end their relationship.
He hears a muffled sound from the bathroom and thinks now of Jamia's hand guiding his thighs apart, her index finger rubbing and pressing against his asshole and then pressing in, and Frank moans again at the sense memory.
He almost wishes he could touch himself now, wrap one hand firmly around his dick while the other followed the path Jamia's hand had traced, but he knows it's better this way. He'll last longer, for one, and for another, Frank knows Jamia gets off on teasing him just as much as he gets off on being forced into stillness.
Frank shifts around on the bed and moves his feet so his knees are bent, legs spread. He cracks the knuckles of one hand and takes a deep breath. Jamia opens the bathroom door.
She stands silhouetted, with her feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart and her hips cocked forward and slightly to one side. Her arms are crossed in front of her breasts, and she would look almost confrontational if not for the wide smirk alighting her face.
The harness around her pelvis looks a bit weird, but the dildo it holds is a pale, sparkly pink and shaped like a real--if unrealistically thick--cock. Any urges to giggle leave Frank in an instant and he bites his lip hard against an embarrassing whimper.
He tugs uselessly at the cuffs, reaching for her. "C'mere, c'mere, please," he whispers, and she does. She settles on her knees between his parted thighs again, resting a hand on each of his raised knees.
"Tell me how much you want it, Frankie," Jamia says, still smirking down at him. He licks his lips and presses his calf against her hip.
Frank had never been a talker, not in any of his relationships. With Gerard, the trick had been getting him to shut up, and with Jamia, she usually talks enough for the both of them, filing the silences with dirty whispers. Frank is just reduced to whimpers and animalistic groans and growls, though even that was more Gerard's thing than Frank's.
Jamia's hands slide along his inner thighs and Frank swallows twice before speaking. "I really fucking want it," he says. "I want it so bad, Jamia, please, please fuck me, please. I wanna feel you in me, I want that, I need it--"
She cuts him off with a kiss, and just as before, when Frank opens his mouth to her, she presses her finger into him. It's smoother this time, wet, and Frank hadn't even noticed the lube in her hand, he'd been so focused on her naked body, her cock. Frank moans into the kiss and sighs when she twists her finger, then adds another, carefully stretching him open.
"You convinced me," she whispers, and adds a third finger. The dildo looked thick; Frank wonders if she'll stop at three or slide her pinkie into him as well.
"Oh god, oh, fuck," Frank gasps suddenly. Jamia grins wickedly and curls her fingers like that again, producing the same vocal reaction. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Frank says.
His eyes are closed now and the cuffs are tight around his wrists, preventing him from flailing around and grabbing the bedsheets. He tosses his head to the side and grinds back onto Jamia's fingers, muttering, "Shit, Jamia, please, please fuck me, please, oh fuck."
"You love this," Frank hears her murmur from somewhere above him. He can't bring himself to open his eyes yet, so he settles for listening to the tell-tale squeeze of the lube bottle.
Jamia twists her three fingers inside him again and Frank hisses, "Yeah, god yes, shit, please more." The silicone dick pushes insistently against the inner part of his thigh, slick with lube and warming with Frank's own body heat.
Jamia's fingers disappear suddenly and Frank is surprised into opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is Jamia's face, creased with concentration as she looks down between their bodies and shuffles forward on her knees. She slides one slippery hand beneath his ass and guides him up a little bit.
The position puts strain on Frank's thighs and back, but he doesn't mind, he can hold it. "Okay?" Jamia asks, and Frank nods quickly, shaking a bead of sweat from his jaw. He feels it land on his throat and slide down.
The head of Jamia's dick pushes against his asshole and Frank almost collapses back to the bed. She wedges one knee beneath his thigh to help him stay up. Frank's eyelids slip shut again and his fingers flex against the headboard.
"Oh god, oh god," he sighs. The dildo's a lot thicker than Jamia's fingers, but she moves slowly and Frank relishes the stretch. He breathes out sharply through his nose, forcing himself to relax. Above him, Jamia bites off a whispered curse. She continues moving forward steadily until the dildo's fully inside him, then pauses to give Frank time to adjust. Frank flaps his hands, pants out wordless noises.
Jamia leans over him and mouths at his exposed, sweaty throat. "So hot like this, Frankie, so fucking sexy, taking this fucking cock up your ass." She tilts her hips and pulls out slightly. On the next thrust, Frank cries out and throws his head back into the pillow. Jamia bites his collarbone.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes, please, more, fuck," Frank moans.
"I see why Gee loved fucking you, baby, you're such a fucking cockslut."
"I am, yeah, please, Jamia, fuck, please."
Frank tenses his arms and arches his back, coming up almost fully off the bed. Jamia speeds up her thrusts, rocking in and out, and keeps biting and sucking bruises on his throat and chest. She holds herself up with one hand on the bed by Frank's ribs, and with the other, she reaches for his dick where it's trapped between them. Her fingers close around him, and though the angle is awkward, Frank gasps out his appreciation.
Jamia murmurs his name, her breath and tongue hot against his skin. Frank pushes back, meeting her thrusts. He can feel his body coiling, tensing for release, and his thighs shake with the effort of holding himself up. Jamia's hand on his cock shifts and she begins to stroke him in earnest, matching the rhythm to that of the thrusts of her hips.
"Jamia," Frank cries, "fuck, Jamia, Jamia, please, I want--"
She stretches up and covers his mouth with hers, drawing the sounds out of him. Frank closes his eyes and he can't hold off any longer; Jamia peppers kisses over his face and neck, murmuring to him as he comes, splattering her hand and both of their bellies. She smears her fingers through the mess on Frank's stomach and brings them up to Frank's mouth, and he's sucking them in before he even realizes what she's doing.
Jamia slows down her thrusts considerably but keeps moving, and Frank's muscles are burning with exertion. He feels like he's about to combust or collapse. Jamia pushes the dildo deep inside him; Frank's toes curl as he lets out a ragged moan. When she pulls out, she pulls out completely, and Frank's left feeling stretched open and worn thin, utterly used and empty. Locked in the cuffs, his wrists hang limp from the headboard.
He wants to touch, wants to gather Jamia in his arms and snuggle under the blankets and sleep, but he can't summon the energy to move. Being fucked always leaves him like this, dazed and kind of helpless. His eyelids flutter open and he sees Jamia's arms above him as she reaches for the latch on the handcuffs.
Frank's hands drop to the pillow. He breathes out a sigh that almost sounds like "Jamia," but he can't quite get the syllables right. She slides her palms along his arms, down to his shoulders, where she squeezes once. She shakes her head, tossing her hair out of her eyes, and bends down to kiss him again.
"So pretty like this, Frankie," she says. Gerard had often said similar things after they fucked, and Frank had just smiled softly and wrapped his arms around Gerard, pulling him close. He does that with Jamia now, and she kisses him deeply again. He opens completely under her lips and tongue. "You taste like come," she whispers. Frank feels a flash of warmth in the pit of his stomach. "You taste like sex."
Frank's limbs tingle and he tightens his arms briefly around Jamia. She'd taken off the harness, apparently while Frank had been out of it after his orgasm. He drags his hands down her back, squeezes her ass, and then slides one hand around her hip and then down between her thighs. She's slick under his hand, and he can tell by the way she holds herself that she's not in the mood to draw this out, not now. He slips two fingers into her, twisting his wrist and pressing his thumb to her clit. Jamia moans softly and clutches at his shoulders, tossing her head back, and Frank takes the opportunity to nuzzle into her chest, laying soft kisses to the tops of her breasts.
"Oh, oh, Frankie, oh god, Frankie--" she murmurs, and Frank keeps his hand moving. She spreads her legs, lifting one over his to straddle his thigh, and rocks her hips down onto his fingers. Her hands drift up from his shoulders to his hair, and she tugs gently until Frank lifts his head from her chest and looks up at her. She bends her neck and kisses him fiercely as she comes, making short, sharp noises in the back of her throat which Frank echoes, more quietly.
Jamia breaks their kiss and rolls off him, panting for breath. Frank twists onto his side to face her, one arm curled beneath his head and the other reaching out to stroke her hip. She grins, and he echoes her again, smiling softly.
"You look kind of blissed-out, baby," she whispers.
Frank's hand tightens on her hip and he tilts forward to kiss her again, gently parting her lips with his tongue. Everything's a bit blurry-edged and quiet, now. "I am," he replies simply.
"So we can do this again?" Jamia asks, smirking.
Frank laughs breathily. "Baby, I would beg for it."
fin.