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| Got Riff; *FINISHED* Het James /OFC Smut. A lot. And a bit of angst | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: September 2, 2015, 4:19 pm (4,431 Views) | |
| jaymzbabe | November 28, 2015, 10:33 am Post #31 |
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Blackened
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More soon please 😊👍👍 |
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| Dragonlove | December 24, 2015, 7:58 am Post #32 |
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Frantic
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Sorry it took me so long. The last two months have been crazy, with two research papers, four written and one oral exam, topped off with a huge crisis with my boyfriend of almost sixteen years. Ah well. Exams are over, relationship's not. Thank God it's christmas! Happy Holidays, everyone. Have some smut! "Before I forget," James says and pulls a key-card from his jeans pocket, "this is the key-card for our suite. You need it for the elevator as well, otherwise it won't go up the top floor." He hands me the card. I smile and reach into my purse. "I was wondering why they gave me two of these," I say as I hand my spare card to James. "You don't mind, do you? We just thought it might ... make things easier?" Fran looks at me as if asking for permission. "I'm sure it will. And I don't think you will use it to strangle me in my sleep," I joke. As soon as I've said it I wish I hadn't, as an uneasy feeling creeps up my spine. "Just..." I bite my tongue, feeling stupid. "What?" James asks casually as he pockets my card. I shake my head. "I was going to say 'keep an eye on it'. But I know you will." James and Fran look at me as if expecting me to explain myself further, but I leave it at that and so do they. "You mind walking for a bit? I remember a place a few minutes from here and I feel like stretching my legs," James says as the lift stops at my floor. "Sure," I say. "Okay, we'll get Max and Steve and we'll meet you in the lobby in a few?" I'm confused. "Max and Steve?" I ask, the lift doors already closing behind me. Quickly James reaches out his hand to stop the doors. "Uhm, yeah, they're security." I nod, feeling stupid again. I still haven't fully realised just how different our lives are. The restaurant is within a short walking distance from our hotel but within the few minutes it takes to get here, quite a few people recognise James, two of them asking – very politely – for an autograph. I can hardly imagine what it's like for people with hysteric teenage fans. I guess it's a good thing most Metallica fans are grown ups who generally know the difference between public and private life. Still, I feel slightly annoyed that it's not possible for James to just go for lunch unbothered. "Doesn't that bug you?" James shrugs. "Sometimes. But it comes with the job. What bugs me is paparazzi that go after Fran and the kids. Fortunately they hardly do nowadays." Fran links arms with her husband and gently bumps his hip. "You've become boring, Papa Het." James laughs and kisses her temple. I can't help feeling a bit wistful at how comfortable they seem together. Lunch is a strange affair. Even though we're all hungry and the food in the restaurant is delicious, there's a tension in the air, a sexually laden air of expectation that - at least for me – makes it difficult to really enjoy the meal. The whole situation has a surreal feeling to it, added to by the two bodyguards at the next table and the fans that are probably still waiting outside. James and Fran are used to this kind of attention, but to me it's a new and unpleasant experience. It gets even more unpleasant as we arrive back at the hotel. "Ah, crap," Max exclaims as we turn the last corner. He's been this monosyllabic the whole time, and yet this makes him the more talk-active of the two bodyguards. "It's the paps." Indeed there are three photographers waiting on the other side of the street, their lenses aimed at the entrance of the hotel. “Must be someone famous staying at the hotel,” James jokes. I've been walking along James and Fran, now I automatically turn up the collar of my jacket and try to hang back a little. James turns to me with a lopsided grin. "No use," he says, "let's just get in there. Next time we'll use the other entrance," he says to Max who uses his muscled body as good as he can to shield us from the cameras. Steve brings up the rear and together they herd us back into the safety of the lobby. "Sorry 'bout that," Max says, glancing at me. James pats his shoulder. "Nothing to be done, buddy. We can't avoid them all the time. Nothing much happened. They might not even get the pics sold." I hope James is right. After all, there isn't much exiting about James Hetfield arriving at a hotel with his wife and three other people. Of course if they knew what we're planning to do... My heart beats faster at the thought. Not that there really *is* a plan. With Max and Steve at the next table we didn't really feel like discussing the details over lunch. But the way James kept looking at me over our table has been enough to make my knees grow weak and my mind run wild. The touch of his hand on my elbow almost makes me jump. "Do you want to stop by your room or are you coming right up with us?" he asks quietly. The question sounds harmless enough, but the look in his eyes is predatory. "Let me drop my things first, then I'll come up to you and we'll... talk," I suggest. James raises an eyebrow and I pat his hand on my arm. "You did say I get to call all the shots. And I think we should talk first, the three of us," I drop my voice further so that James has to lean in to hear me. "As much as I want to jump you right here." James grins. "I guess that would be taking things a bit too far." In my suite I brush my teeth, check myself in the mirror for the umpteenth time, brush my hair, tug at the straps of my bra and try to work up my courage. Touching up my mascara provides me with the perfect excuse to literally look myself deep into the eyes. Okay sweetie, time for the truth. Do you really want this? Are you sure you're okay with her watching? I stop moving and stare at myself in the mirror. Only one way to find out. I guess no one has ever asked anything as bold of me as Fran, but at the same time she seems extremely concerned about my emotional well-being. "I know I'm asking a lot. And I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. I could just, I don't know, watch from the next room if you keep the door open." James snorts. "No way! That would only make things worse. Fran can be a bit of a klutz," he explains. Fran grins. "Pot, kettle!" I feel myself relax, their comfortable banter soothing my nerves. "How about this: If the door is open, you can come in, if it's closed, please don't," I suggest, "I mean, I don't want to shut you out of your own bedroom..." "No, I think that's a good idea." She gets up and stretches. "I'm going to take a shower. You two: have fun." Fran smiles at me and squeezes James' shoulder as she passes him. He grins up at her and runs his hand over her hip. Before Fran has fully disappeared, James has pulled me up from my seat and into his arms, kissing me hungrily, his hands already tugging at the hem of my shirt. Pulling my shirt up and over my head he marches me backwards into the spacey bedroom. I try to rid him off his hoodie at the same time, but James is too busy kissing my bare shoulder. His hands travel from my waist to the button of my jeans. I pull his hoodie up again and this time he takes the hint and pulls it over his head, unceremoniously dropping it to the floor. I run my hands over his bare chest, his shoulders and down his back. James hooks his thumbs into the belt loops of my jeans and pulls them down so I can step out of them. I don't trust my weak knees to hold me up so I have to lean onto him for balance. "Nervous?" James asks quietly, gathering me into a warm embrace. I nod and give him a small smile. "Stage fright, probably." He brushes his lips over my temple. "Focus on me. And if you get really uncomfortable, we'll stop any time, okay?" I nuzzle his neck, inhaling his scent. "I don't want to stop," I mumble against his skin. James takes a deep breath. "Good." He runs his hands over my back, softly squeezing my butt, pulling my body against his own. "I've been thinking about you a lot," he says softly, his lips ghosting over my ear. I’m not sure if Fran has already entered the room, but I know these words were meant for me alone. Remembering how sensitive his nipples are, I circle them with my fingertips until they harden into little peaks, while kissing my way from his jaw down his neck to his collarbone. James is still holding me pressed against him, so I can feel his erection growing as my fingers continue to tease his nipples, softly pinching and rolling them. I have to take a small step back so I can reach his chest with my lips, but James seems reluctant to let me go, his fingers threading through my hair, his eyes searching for mine. As our looks meet he pulls me in for a long, deep kiss that makes me forget my nervousness. Our first encounter has been passionate and rushed, now in the luxurious knowledge that we've got days instead of mere hours we can take our time exploring each other. And I for my part intend to take full advantage of that. I rake my fingers through James' hair, tugging a bit at the tendrils that curl at the back of his neck. I run my nails over the soft skin of his neck, feeling goose bumps erupt in their wake. James' tongue pushes deeper into my mouth, his kiss growing more demanding, challenging. His thumbs stroke over the silvery lace of my bra as he grips me tighter. A sound between a moan and a growl comes from my own throat. I don't know what it is, but something with James seems to make it impossible for me to take my time. As much as I want to cherish the moments with him, want to feel and taste and touch him, the low-down on the situation is I simply *want* James. He breaks the kiss to arch an amused eyebrow at the feral sound I've made. "Your own fault," I mumble before I attack his mouth again, sucking on his bottom lip. "Not complaining," he answers, his voice getting raspy with lust. His strong hand in my hair he tilts my head back to lick and nibble down my neck. His hand releases my hair to brush the straps of my bra off my shoulders, then he reaches behind me to unclasp it. His lips latched onto one of my nipples, his hands press against my hips, pushing me down onto the bed. He tumbles down with me but manages not to crush me under his body. Crouching over me, he kisses his way down my body. The lace of my panties already feels damp and I hope he'll soon take them off of me. As if reading my mind, James hooks his thumbs into my panties and slowly peels them off my hips, inhaling sharply at the sight he reveals. "Nice," he murmurs, softly brushing his calloused fingertips over smooth skin and the neatly trimmed small strip of hair. I moan and arch into his touch, desperate for more. He places a small kiss right beneath my belly button, then kneels up with a growl, unbuckling his belt. Over his shoulder I can see Fran lounging on the chaise in front of the picture window overlooking the city, the afternoon light already getting gloomy behind her. James pushes his jeans down along with his underwear, his hungry gaze never leaving my body. He has to stand up to get rid of his remaining clothes, but it only takes a second before he's back on the bed. Again he kisses my stomach, round my belly button, dipping his tongue in and diving further south, but before his mouth reaches my mound he effortlessly flips me over and pulls me up on my knees. His teeth graze the skin of my shoulder. "Okay with you?" "Less talking, James," I pant and he chuckles. I gasp as he enters me. Of course I remember he's big, but to feel him fill me so perfectly again beats every memory. I can feel Fran's eyes on me but instead of making me feel uncomfortable or self-conscious like I had expected, her look feels like an additional pair of hands caressing me, pleasuring me. I never knew I had an exhibitionistic streak, but then I've never considered myself a groupie, either. It seems that the Hetfields have got a talent to bring out new sides of my sexuality. Tilting my head back I arch into a hollow back, slightly changing the angle of James' thrusts. I groan softly and James hands stroke up from my hips over my flanks to my shoulders. He moulds his torso against my back, lightly biting the skin where my neck joins my shoulder. I let my head fall between my arms again, pressing my back against him, wanting all the skin to skin contact I can get. I grin at myself as I realise I've just combined sex and yoga. From now on I'll probably never be able to do majariasana without thinking of sex with James. "Feel good?" he breathes into my ear. "Oh yes, so good," I groan. I can hardly remember feeling so turned on in my life. James changes his position behind me and pulls me with him, so that I'm now sitting in his lap, one of his arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind, pressing me against his chest while his other hand glides down my stomach and between my legs. "Look at Fran," he purrs into my ear. "Can you see how much we turn her on? How watching you effects her?" I nod, though it's difficult for me to actually keep my eyes open. The figure of Fran is almost completely hidden in the shadow, but I think I can see she has slipped one hand inside her robe. The thought of her pleasuring herself while she's watching us, her fingers imitating the movements of James' fingers on me, makes me shiver and groan. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against James' shoulder. "Please, James, I'm so close," I whisper. "Yeah? What do you need? Tell me," his own voice is shaky and thick with lust. I can't think straight any more, the nails of my left hand are digging into his thigh while I'm clutching at his arm with my right. "I... just... more!" James lets out a sound somewhere between a snort and a groan and I can feel as well as see the muscles in his thighs straining as he pushes harder into me, his right hand slipping from my sweaty shoulder to my breast, squeezing gently. "God! Yes! James!" I press back against James, taking him as deeply as I can and shudder into a mind-blowing orgasm. "Fuck," James growls as I clench around him. He presses his hands against my shoulder blade, pushing me forward so I land on my hands and knees again. James grabs my hips and it only takes two, three thrusts, so deep he's hitting my cervix almost painfully until he, too, comes with a violent intensity, a hoarse groan escaping his throat. I force my eyes open as I sense movement in the room. Fran ghosts her fingertips over my hair as she passes the bed. Seeing my eyes open she blushes and smiles, leaving without a word. I move so I can lay my head on James' chest, his hand instantly curling around my waist. He smiles and slowly opens his blue eyes, still slightly darker than usual. "Are you okay?" I nod, placing a small kiss to his chest. "What about you?" I've only just realised that I've never thought about how James might feel about this whole business and I feel bad for being so inconsiderate. I can feel James trembling and as I look up slightly alarmed I can see he's shaking with silent laughter. "Oh, Annika, you truly are the limit!" he cackles, hugging me close. "I get to have sex with an extremely hot chick. And not only is my wife okay with that, she gets turned on by it, she actually *wants* me to do it. Now, how does that make me feel?" He furrows his brow with ostentation for a second, then a huge grin spreads on his face. "Yeah, I guess I'm all right." Edited by Dragonlove, December 26, 2015, 7:35 pm.
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| Rockfan71 | December 24, 2015, 6:15 pm Post #33 |
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Frantic
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*thud* *dies* Wow... That was... SO good. SO damn hot. SO damn exciting!! I just went to bed with a slight fever but damn, Hun, I feel so hot & flushed that I think you broke my fever!! Mindblowing hot and well written. Very well written. That made my Christmas Eve rock!!! Bless you & Merry Christmas!!!!! |
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| Dragonlove | December 26, 2015, 6:17 am Post #34 |
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Frantic
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Rockfan! I hope you're feeling better - we can't have you ill on Christmas!!! I'm glad you think the update helped. Your comment certainly made my day
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| Rockfan71 | December 26, 2015, 6:25 am Post #35 |
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Frantic
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Bit quiet around here on Christmas. Am feeling loads better than yesterday. Just had a lovely sandwich & prepping some food to take to Sis tonight. A nice long walk in the Sun with my mixed playlist....mostly Metallica & U2....let get some tempo on these fat thighs!! LOL! Hope you had a lovely Christmas as well. You certainly made mine a hotter one! |
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| jaymzbabe | December 26, 2015, 7:25 am Post #36 |
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Blackened
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This update was just amazing 💥💥💥💥
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| Dragonlove | December 26, 2015, 7:39 pm Post #37 |
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Frantic
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I'm glad you think so, jaymzbabe! I just hope, I'll be a bit quicker with the next one
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| bluebird1996 | December 30, 2015, 9:04 pm Post #38 |
Bad Seed
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Oh my goodness. Are you sure stuff this intense is actually allowed on here? That was . . . slightly different from the rest of the stories I've seen on here. I'm not being a prude or overly critical, I'm . . . I'm just not used to the idea of voyeurism, especially if it involves one's wife. Your story was very good, but I kind of found that certain . . . subject hard to get past. Needless to say, you're a great writer, it's always a good thing to follow your passion and do what you love best. Again, I'm not flaming or trying to ignite conflict, I'm simply expressing my honest opinion. I'm sure you understand. ![]() |
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| Dragonlove | December 31, 2015, 7:12 am Post #39 |
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Frantic
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Hey Bluebird, first of all thank you for reading and commenting. I always love to get feedback. Secondly, I try to treat all my characters respectfully, whether they're OFC or based on RP. I'm not making any assumptions on actual events or relationships with my fiction. The way I see it, there's nothing wrong with adults sharing their lust as long as it's consensual on all parts. That's why I decided to write the story this way. I have the utmost respect for the RL marriage of James and Fran. I didn't want to write a story where one is cheating or spying on the other. Of course I could have just chosen to write James single or divorced and take it from there, but since the story starts with a real event and a real quote, I decided to stay close to the basic facts. If you read some of the stories in the finished section of the board, you'll find Fran featured in quite a number of them so I didn't expect anyone to take offence in the way I'm writing her here. I thought the build-up to that last chapter was slow enough that anyone who doesn't like to read this kind of thing would be duely warned of what was to come and could stop reading. Again, thank you for your feedback. I understand your point of view and I hope you'll understand mine. |
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| jaymzbabe | January 29, 2016, 6:45 pm Post #40 |
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Blackened
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Poke I love this and can't wait for more 😊😊 |
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| Dragonlove | February 1, 2016, 4:42 pm Post #41 |
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Frantic
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Ahem, sorry it took me some time again to update... No kink in this one (it will be back, though, so consider yourself warned) but some emotional turmoil and bad memories. And, well, SMUT I had almost forgotten about the paparazzi, telling myself their pics weren't spectacular enough to get published. As I turn on my phone the next morning I can see I've got a message from my best friend. Minx! You NEVER told me you know James Hetfield! So that's what's behind your trip to Berlin. I had been wondering... And his wife, too???? You know you've got to tell me EVERYTHING when you're back, right? I mean it! I can almost hear her squeaking as I read her text. The thought makes me grin while I click on the link she's sent me. Obviously the pics weren't too boring to be bought by Germany's biggest tabloid. "Metallica frontman James Hetfield arrives at the hotel with wife Francesca (far right) and an unknown dark-haired beauty. Metallica will be performing live at the O2 World on Friday and Saturday. Both shows are already sold out." I enlarge the pic. Despite the distance from which it's been taken, it's a close-up of the moment James turned to speak to me. I feel relief washing through me. While James is clearly recognisable, and Fran's in half-profile, I'm facing away from the camera. Only someone who knows me really well could recognise me. Still looking at the pic I almost jump out of my skin as the hotel phone starts ringing. "What if I told you I want you naked and in my bed in two minutes?" James sounds very upbeat this early in the day. "I'd probably lie and say I get hundreds of these calls every day. Anyway you'd have to wait your turn, 'cause I'm still sweaty from my yoga practice and I haven't even had breakfast." I can hear his grin down the line. "Okay, then I'll order up breakfast. And I want you naked in my shower in two minutes." My feet are already moving towards the door as I'm putting down the receiver. The shower's already running as I enter the bathroom of the presidential suite. Steam is fogging up the wide glass door, but I can still see the outlines of James' body. I quickly shed my sweatpants, tank-top and underwear and step into the large shower. James instantly pulls me close, his wet skin slick against my own. "Where's Fran?" I ask. James is already nibbling on my neck, licking the salt of my dried sweat off my skin, his large hands gripping my shoulders. "She's spending the day at the spa," he playfully nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. "Disappointed?" "That I'll have you all for myself?" I grin while running my hands over the curve of his ass. "Not bloody likely." James smiles. "What are you going to do with me, then?" Instead of an answer, I lean in, so that my body brushes against his and ghost my lips over his mouth. James gives a soft hum of appreciation. He closes his eyes and lets me explore his chest with my hands and my mouth. He combs his fingers through my wet hair, pulling me closer under the hot spray. "Didn't you say you were all sweaty? Let's get you cleaned up," he says quietly and I can hear him opening a bottle. My lips are caressing the cross tattooed on his sternum as I can feel his fingers massaging my scalp. I close my eyes as James gently turns me around and takes his time washing and rinsing my hair. I almost turn into jelly as he reaches for the conditioner. "Why are you being so nice?" I murmur. James chuckles and I can feel the sound vibrating against my back. "Maybe I want to lull you so I can have my wicked way with you?" he suggests. "Is that a promise?" I can feel he's already half-hard and I lean back a bit more so I can rub myself against him. "Tut-tut! I'm not finished cleaning you up," he chides, gently pushing me forward again. He shuts down the water and reaches for the shower gel. His hands on me are sweet torture as he goes on about his task lathering my shoulders, arms and back, his touch gentle but strictly non-sexual. He runs his hands over my butt and I almost yelp as he also slips his fingers between the cheeks, but his touch doesn't linger. I can sense him crouching down behind me as his hands glide down my legs. When he's reached my ankles he gently tugs, indicating for me to turn around again. I comply and the sight of an obviously aroused James Hetfield on his knees in front of me is anything but lulling. As if reading my mind he grins up at me with a devilish gleam in his eyes. But apart from that he doesn't change his tactics. He lifts up my foot and I have to lean on his shoulder for balance as his touches make me giggle. "Ticklish, are you?" he smiles, letting go off the one foot to reach for the other. "I think I've never had anyone wash my feet for me," I grin. "No? What about painting your toe-nails?" He delicately pulls on one of my toes and I wonder where he's picked that up that massage-technique. "When I was a teenager, at slumber parties," I reply. James doesn't seem quite satisfied with my answer. I can't help wondering if he paints Fran's toe-nails on a regular basis. Or maybe Kirk's. The thought makes me giggle again. James gives me a stern look from his crouched position and firmly puts my foot down again. "You don't seem to take the matter of personal hygiene very seriously," he states with mock disapproval. For a moment I'm tempted to tell him that painted toe-nails are hardly a matter of hygiene, but instead I try to look appropriately chastised. Squeezing more shower gel onto his palm, James starts lathering up my legs and this time his touches become teasing as he runs his hands over the insides of my thighs and then turns towards my hips at the last moment. "You're such a tease," I protest but James just grins at me, rubs his soapy hands over my stomach and stands again, cupping my breasts in his hands. "All cleaned up now?" he murmurs, his lips caressing my ear. "Hmmm, I think you forgot an important part..." "Really? We can't have that." He turns on the water again and as the lather is washed off my skin his right hand travels down my stomach again, his thumb momentarily dipping into my belly button. I let out a low moan and James catches my bottom lip between his teeth in a playful mix between a gentle bite and a heated kiss. He uses his bodyweight to press me against the tiles and with the hot water from the shower head and his heated skin pressed to my front, the tiles feel extra-cold against my back. But as his fingers reach their goal all thoughts about cold tiles flee my mind. James' lips leave mine and follow the path of his hand. I rest the back of my head against the slippery wall and blindly reach out for something to hold on to as I can feel James licking and nibbling his way down my body. When he's on his knees again he lifts up my left leg and hooks it over his shoulder. Our eyes meet briefly before he lowers his head and I can feel his tongue on me. I bury my fingers in his hair, pulling him against me harder. I breathe out his name and James looks up at me, his eyes dark and intense. Not breaking eye-contact he let's his hand slip from my thigh until he can slide his thumb inside me. My whole body trembles with the intensity of my feelings. Fisting my hands in his hair I come with a hardly suppressed scream. James breathes one last delicate kiss onto my now over-sensitive clit, then smoothly gets up again, letting my leg slip from his shoulder to his hip. He doesn't say anything but his eyes seem to ask for permission and I pull him in for a passionate kiss in means of an answer, letting our bodies take over. I'm glad that we've had enough time for preparations beforehand, so that we don't have to deal with condoms this time. James enters me with one long stroke and I gasp into our kiss. He slips his arm under my leg, lifting it further. It's a good thing I'm still stretched from my yoga session, so my leg easily slides into the crook of his elbow, allowing James to push even deeper. His kiss becomes harsher, his teeth scraping over my bottom lip. Then he rests his forehead against mine, his breath coming out in short gasps and low groans. My fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulder and hip where I hold on for dear life. Firmly trapped between James and the shower wall I lift my other leg and wrap it around James' hip. Instantly he grabs my thigh, his strong hand closing like a vice on my slippery skin. The new position changes his angle exactly the way I wanted and it only takes a few more stroke before I can feel the muscles of my core clenching. "Yes... James," I breathe. I believe I can feel every single one of my nerves tingling and for a few seconds I'm hyper aware of all the sounds and smells in the room, the water hitting our bodies, the feeling of James' wet skin sliding against my own, the way his muscles tense and then relax as he climaxes with a deep groan. We remain entwined with each other while we wait for our breathing to calm down again. After a minute or two James gently lowers me to the ground again. We kiss lazily until the water runs too cold to ignore any longer. "Didn't you say something about breakfast?" I ask with a grin while I reach for a towel. James laughs softly. "I bet the coffee's cold by now." After breakfast - with hot coffee, since the thoughtful staff have served it in an insulated coffee pot - we cuddle in bed. I tell James about the message from my friend and that the pap pics have indeed been published. "I really don't think I could live with that kind of attention all the time," I confess, snuggling up to James' chest. "So let's pretend you were a celebrity. What would they write about you?" "Unknown dark-haired beauty?" I try to joke. James tightens his arms around me. "You're annoyingly secretive, you know that?" "And you're annoyingly stubborn." I sigh and turn around, trying to wriggle out of his embrace. James exhales deeply and kisses the back of my head. "Listen, I know we've only known each other for like two days and two dozens phone calls. But I can feel you carry a lot of baggage. And trust me, I know what can happen if you don't deal with it." When I don't react he quietly goes on. "I'm only trying to be your friend. I wished you'd trust me." "I do not trust easily," I finally say. James chuckles softly. "Yeah, I gathered as much. You let me fuck into next week, but you won't talk to me." With another deep sigh I reluctantly give in. "Okay. Ask away." "What's with your accent? It's not German, but I can't quite place it. Scotland? Ireland?" I almost sigh with relief. That question seems harmless enough. In fact, I've been surprised he hasn't asked me about my accent yet. Most people do. "It's Irish. I used to live in Dublin for a few years. Worked for an Irish company after getting my degree at Trinity." "Fran says you've been married." Right. The easy part is over all to quickly. "Yeah, I've been married. Got divorced six years ago and that's all I'm going to say about it." "Fine. Have it your way." James releases me from his embrace and rolls over onto his back. As I make to get up he quickly grabs my hand and pulls me back down. "What about your family?" "James..." "You said I could ask." I didn't expect him to open up my deepest wounds with two sentences, though. Facing away from him, I answer. "My family got killed in a car crash when I was twenty. To be exact, my parents were killed in the crash, my younger sister died a few days later in hospital." Even fourteen years later the memory still makes me shiver. Instantly James wraps himself around me. "Fuck. I'm sorry," he murmurs, kissing my shoulder. "Yeah." Even fourteen years later I still don't know what to answer to that simple sentence. I expect him to drop the matter like most people do when I tell them the blunt truth, but James keeps on asking. "Where were you when it happened?" "I was with a friend. I'd moved out to start university a few months earlier." "Did you ever go to counselling after that?" "No," I turn towards him. "Look, James, I appreciate your concern, but not everyone is that traumatised by the loss of their family that they become potential alcoholics or drug addicts, okay?" "'course not. Some just leave their home country or rush into marriages that work out so well they refuse to talk about it even six years after the divorce," he quips. Despite myself, the corners of my mouth twitch with a small smile at his dry comment. "Seriously, why should you care so much?" I wonder. James gently turns my face with a thumb on my chin. "For me, the question is: Why you don't care more about yourself?" I don't know what to say to that so I just stare at James, into gentle blue eyes and I can feel a crack appear in my wall of defence. I'm not prepared for this. I've expected us to have a lot of spectacular sex, I'd watch two great live shows and then we'd go our separate ways again. But it seems that on top of all that James is determined to make me face my demons, too. |
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| Rockfan71 | February 1, 2016, 6:32 pm Post #42 |
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Frantic
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Now that made me Some heavy going on but than James made it more personal by asking her questions about her life. I it!!Thank you for updating. Been way too quiet here in the New Year. Lovely way to end my day. First watch the delectable Charlie Hunnam slay some Kaiju monsters and get some Hetfield action right after. Wow. I think my fever spiked from all the hotness coming at me! Again, THANKS. And do keep writing. Need to know more. I think the three of them can work! |
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| bluebird1996 | February 1, 2016, 11:44 pm Post #43 |
Bad Seed
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I didn't know you were still working on this. Great!
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| Rockfan71 | March 22, 2016, 1:54 am Post #44 |
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Frantic
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Poke! Push! Update??! Please?? |
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| Dragonlove | March 23, 2016, 8:13 am Post #45 |
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Frantic
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Thanks for the poke @Rockfan And I didn't know you were still reading, @Bluebird, thanks for hanging on! Well, I would apologize for the late update again, but by now you guys must be used to it... I wasn't planning on posting today, since I've been in bed sick for the last couple of days, but once again I think all of us can do with something to cheer us all up, so here goes... "Hey," James cups my face in his hand, his thumb gently brushing my cheek bone. “Why the troubled look?” For a moment I close my eyes and lean into his touch until I realise that this is exactly what's unsettling me. I feel like I can trust James and I can see now that I've been longing to have that feeling again for a long time. On the other hand I'm afraid that if I open myself to him, I'll end up hurt. It's an irrational fear since I'm deeply convinced James would never intentionally hurt me. And yet it's incredibly hard to let my guard down even a little bit. James softly nudges my nose with his fingertip, making me open my eyes again. I sigh. "I didn't expect you to get under my skin like this," I confess and I can hear the complaint in the tone of my voice. James laughs softly. "Oh, good! About time someone did, I think." His comment makes me frown. "Why? Why can't you just leave me be?" Jesus Christ, now I'm almost whining like an eight-year-old. "Because that wouldn't help you," James answers calmly. "You don't need to 'help' me. I'm fine." "The fuck you are. You wouldn't try to treat me like a sex toy if you were." There's no venom in his voice but his words hit me right in the guts. "Excuse me?" "Like I said. You let me fuck you, but you won't talk to me. I can bring you off but ideally you could just store me away in the drawer or discard me like a used condom afterwards." "That is not true!" I protest, punctuating each word with a blunt finger to his chest. James sighs and gets a hold on my hand. "Annika, I may not know what exactly brought you there, but I know where you're standing. I've been there, too. I tried to drown my emotions in alcohol so I didn't have to face them. *You've* buried them so deep inside you've even half convinced yourself they don't exist. But believe me, that only works for so long. You're keeping everyone at arms length because you're scared shitless if you allow yourself to get attached you'll end up hurt one way or another." It's all I can do not to jump up and run away from James. It's unnerving how precisely he can tell what's going on inside me. For years I've been able to control how much other people know about me, always revealing just enough to satisfy their human curiosity, to be able to interact socially, but never so much that they really knew *me*. Ever since the death of my family, and particularly after my failed marriage my innermost feelings have been a matter between me and myself, thank you very much. "And when exactly did you turn into Phil Towle?" I ask, trying to cover my shock with sarcasm. "I'm not a therapist, but talking to some-one like Phil might actually be a good idea." I try a seductive smile and roll on top of him and James' hand instantly comes to rest on the small of my back to steady me. "Oh yeah? But I'd never do something like this with some-one like Phil," I breathe, placing small kisses along his jawline. James sighs. "And now you're trying to use sex as a distraction so you don't have to talk about yourself any more." My smile widens into a grin as I can feel his body beginning to react. "It's working, isn't it?" I tease and wriggle a bit more. James lets out a growl that seems to be half frustration and half arousal while rolling us over so that now he's lying atop of me. I've expected him to take me quickly, maybe even a bit roughly in his frustration, but he doesn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He takes his time stroking my skin, the insides of my arms, the outlines of my face, the side of my neck. Too late I realise that not only has James seen through my plan right from the start, he's even turned it against me. There's nothing of the easy playfulness we've shared so far, no greedy passion this time. Instead he's stroking away my defences with each caress, each butterfly kiss, leaving me feeling utterly exposed, vulnerable and terrified. "Bastard," I whisper against his skin. James softly threads his fingers through my hair. "Look at me," he coaxes and I oblige. His eyes are warm and caring but determined at the same time. "Do you want me to stop?" I shake my head. "No, God damn you." Gently, he smiles down at me. "Keep your eyes open. Keep looking at me," he murmurs against my lips. I sigh as he enters me slowly. This is not having sex, this is making love and I can feel tears pricking in my eyes. I can't remember ever feeling so many conflicting emotions at the same time. "I hate you, James Hetfield," I breathe as I arch up against his body. And there's the jaunty, playful gleam back in his eyes. He softly nips my bottom lip with his teeth and smiles. "Somehow, I don't believe you." I burrow my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. "Swear to God," I murmur while I card my fingers through his longish curls. James moves slowly, gently, his hands framing my face and his eyes never leave mine. As the first tear falls, he gently brushes it away with his thumb and bows down to give me a slow, deep kiss. I really don't want to give in to him, don't want to let on how much I crave his tenderness, but once again my body betrays me. It responds to James' every move, every gentle touch, every whispered word. "Let go, Annika, you're safe with me", James says quietly, caressing my face with his fingertips and holding my eyes with his. And it's as if all the fight has left my body, as if the years of trying to smother what's been screaming inside me have finally used up all my energy and I simply fall apart under the impact of my climax. I haven't been expecting that James would be there to gently pick up the pieces. He simply wraps me up in his arms and lets me cry for what feels like hours. I've never been one to cry in front of others but I don't seem to be able to stop now. Finally, when no more tears come, James presses a kiss to my forehead and hands me a box of tissues from the night stand. Then he gets up to fetch me a glass of water. "There," he says, slipping back under the covers with me. "Seems you needed to get that out of your system." "Sorry," I sniffle and to my surprise James rolls his eyes with a grin. "Stop apologizing, Annika. I told you I want to be your friend. To be honest, I feel rather honoured." "But I got snot on you," I sheepishly reply, wiping at his skin with a tissue. James laughs. "Yeah, that's what friends do, right? Snot and all. Who knows, one of these days you may even talk to me." There's a moment of silence, but it isn't uneasy. "I may," I finally answer truthfully. "But right now I think I'd like to be alone for a bit. Is that okay?" The last thing I want is for James to feel rebuffed after offering me his friendship. I needn't have worried. "Bit overwhelming and scary, huh?" he says with a soft smile and I realise that he's probably gone through similar episodes during rehab. "Yeah, a bit." James pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. "You know where to find me", he says, releasing me from his arms. The letter is lying on the side table just inside the door as I enter the suite. The sight of it makes my skin crawl. I recognise the writing even before I decipher the words. No! All of my being is screaming with the word. I can't believe that a five star hotel, in close proximity to the Bundestag no less, would be so lax in security as to allow a stranger to trouble one of their guests, even if only with a letter. And yet there it sits, ugly and menacing like the worlds biggest tarantula. On weak legs I take the two steps towards the small table. "Mrs O’Regan" it says on the envelope. No! My mind yells, the word echoing in the emptiness of my soul. I pick up the letter and open it. It’s just one word, written in bold, angry letters. Mine. "No," I whisper. I curl my fingers into a fist, crumpling the letter in the process. "No!" Staring down at the piece of paper clenched in my fist I can feel something shift inside me as rage blossoms up, rapidly overtaking the cold fear. When I arrive in the lobby I'm brimming with anger. I smack the crumpled letter on the counter of the reception desk. The girl on duty seems hardly older than seventeen and she shrinks back from me. "How on earth did this get into my suite?" "Uhm," she stammers, picking up the envelope with slightly trembling fingers, "there was a gentleman..." The manager, obviously equipped with a delicate sense of trouble, appears behind the desk. "Is there a problem?" I pluck the envelope from the girl's hand and push it under his nose, still fuming. "Would anyone care to explain how this message, that is clearly *not* addressed to me," I stab my finger at the name on it, almost punching a hole in it, "got into my suite?" "I think we should talk about that in my office," he says, waving the girl to follow. I know he wants to avoid a scene in front of other guests and I'm fine with that. The girl looks terrified as I walk past her, knowing her mistake could cost her her job. I almost feel sorry for her. But the thought what her mistake could cost *me* makes me feel sick. "Well?" I demand as soon as the manager has closed the door behind us. The girl looks from me to the manager and as he nods she says, "There was this gentleman. He said he had an urgent massage for a Mrs O'Regan. And I told him we didn't have a guest with that name. And he said that she was probably using a different name since she was travelling with the Hetfields. And he showed me a photo of you, Miss. And since Mr and Mrs Hetfield used an alias for registration, I assumed..." "Well, you assumed wrong," I interrupt coldly. "Did it never occur to you that one uses an alias to avoid getting attention from strangers or mysterious messages? Did he bribe you or are you just plain stupid?" The girl is now on the brink of tears. I know I'm acting like a complete bitch. Fear has always made me lash out. The manager tries to calm me down. "Please, Miss Rohde. I'm sorry there's been a mistake. Please accept our apologies." I ignore him and keep staring at the girl. "Did you give him my name?" She shakes her head, obviously unable to speak without breaking down in tears. "I hope that's the truth." Since I've been ignoring him, the manager now decides to talk to the girl. “That will be all Miss Schmitz. Take the rest of the day off.” She nods and flees the office. "Please let me offer you my apology again, Miss Rohde. I assure you something like this will not happen again. Miss Schmitz is one of our apprentices, it's only her second day at the reception desk." "Then I suggest she re-thinks her career choice," I reply curtly. Turning on my heel, I storm out of the office. I blindly rush through the foyer, not paying particular attention to other people until I literally bump into somebody blocking my way. Automatically I takea step slightly to my left, bringing me in a ninety degree angle and my hands up ready to defend myself. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," I exhale and let my hands sink, as I recognise Steve with Fran at his elbow. "Annika! What's the matter with you? You look upset. You didn't get into a fight with James, did you?" Her question makes me smile. "Gracious, no. He's such a sweetie I wouldn't know how to get into a fight with him," I declare, realising it's true. Fran lets out her raucous laugh and I think I can even see Steve's lips twitch with a smile. "I could give you a few hints on that," Fran grins and links her arm with mine. "So what's the matter then?" Obviously, being a mother of three and wife to an ex-alcoholic husband, Fran is equipped with an equally fine-tuned sense for trouble as the hotel manager. "Nothing, really, just an apprentice at the reception desk who'd be better employed as a scullery maid," I grumble. "That's some pretty fine reflexes you've got," Steve says, nodding at my hands, "you've ever done any training?" "Yeah, for a while I was pretty much into self defence. I let it slack, though. I think I should get back to it." "Yeah? Any particular reason?" Fran probes. I try to shrug it off. "You just never know, do you?" |
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Rockfan! I hope you're feeling better - we can't have you ill on Christmas!!! I'm glad you think the update helped. Your comment certainly made my day

going on but than James
made it more personal by asking her questions about her life. I 
8:39 PM Jul 10