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snoggedTitle: Ph. D In Lily Aldrin
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own the cast of How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Marshall/Lily
Word Count: 982
Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; for sexual situations.
Setting: set sometime after Season 5's “Robin 101”
Summary: Marshall wrote the book on pressing Lily Aldrin’s sexual buttons.
Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.
There were only two things that were keeping Lily from passing out on the sofa on this particularly lazy Sunday afternoon. The first was the vibrant, distracting colors of Futurama and the second was Marshall’s fingers working her left, cherry-colored nipple to a hard point.
Her shirt and bra had come off sometime during the third episode and her body had been languidly warming under his touch ever since. When Bender mentioned something about kissing his shiny, metal ass, she nuzzled her head against his thigh, dark hair brushing against his faded grey t-shirt that bore the emblem of the Wesleyan Bishops.
Marshall responded with a quick nipple tweak, sending a buzzing arc of pleasure down to her core. He knew just how to recharge her battery, knew just how to break through her fuzzy, sleepy haze.
Lily twisted her body a little bit so she could lock eyes with him, and her body tingled from the lustful intentions she saw in his gorgeous eyes. He wanted her. He wanted to make her body come alive with moans and whimpers. And God, that’s exactly what she wanted too.
The hand that wasn’t concentrated on her full, round breasts threaded around her thigh until she could feel the bony ridge of his arm applying pressure to her pussy as those fingers spider webbed across the top of her pubic mound. It was a new sort of sensation, but it was one that left her feeling hopelessly aroused and desperate to lose her pants.
As he started to stroke her over her clothes, she rearranged herself so she could continue to grind her hips against him and grab his face with both hands to plant a kiss on her most favorite set of lips. (She’d never admit this to Robin, but Marshall’s lips beat out Hugh Jackman’s lips any day of the week.) She keened against his mouth and bucked her hips when he moved his hand so he could slide his thick fingers down the front of her jeans.
“Marshall…” she whimpered, seeking out his tongue with her own, determined to battle to the death as every square inch of her body started pulsing with need and animalistic desire. The way he was touching her made her feel crazy with lust, made her want to attack him, dominate him. It wasn’t fair that he got to be the one deciding how this game was going to go. She was supposed to be the seductive woman, supposed to be the one driving him mental with tantalizing teases.
Instead, she was going to be the one with the ruined set of panties because he hadn’t bothered to take them off before he made her sopping wet.
Marshall grinned like a dope as his wife propelled herself to her knees and straddled his lap. In this position, she was able to tower over him a little, able to swallow his face whole with her awesome, lip-sucking kisses. He loved making her nuts like this, loved feeling the wrath of her insatiability. It benefited him as much as it benefited her. “Yeah baby?”
“Bedroom. You. Me. Right freaking now,” Lily whimpered, fingers frantically clawing at his shirt. She wanted him naked, wanted him inside her, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Yes, ma’am,” Marshall chuckled, offering her a brief salute as she scrambled to her feet and bee-lined towards the bedroom door. He followed her slowly, taking special care to admire the way her bum jiggled as she tried to get to the bed and lose her pants at the same time.
It was the cutest freaking thing in the whole world. Even when she’s gone all Discovery Channel’s Most Dangerous Animals on him from the lust he’d been slowly feeding her all day. Spending thirteen years with the same woman had taught him more than any 101 course could have, and he sure as hell didn’t have to keep a notebook in his bedside dresser to remember all the little details that made her squirm in her bedroom. He had his Ph. D in Lily Aldrin and everyone else who thought otherwise could simply suck it.
Lily reached into the drawer and pulled out a small, purple square of foil, pushing it into Marshall’s hand as her fingers nimbly hooked into the elastic band of his Sunday sweatpants and he assisted by shimmying his way out of them and out of his plaid boxers. Then, he plopped down on the bed and rolled the condom on, a smile stretching out his entire face.
With a heady, breathless sigh, she sank down onto his engorged erection and gave herself pause before she let the aphrodisiac known as Marshall take hold of her again. The simple act of connecting their bodies just added fuel to her fire, added the zing to her zang, the bing to her bang.
She rolled her hips suddenly, shifting the position of his cock inside her and drawing a moan from her lips. Marshall slid his hands around her waist, and relished the moment when she started to bounce up and down like a cowgirl riding her favorite steed.
“When you do that to me, it makes me feel like I could come in five seconds or less,” Lily panted, punctuating each word with every down-stroke. “And. It’s. Not. Fair.”
As they both chased the orgasms to the moon and back, Marshall couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his lips. “No reason to be jealous of the trade secrets, baby. They’re really a win-win for everybody.”
Lily’s eyelashes fluttered as she crested the wave of climax and finally slumped against Marshall’s body, laying down kisses on the hollow of his throat. She didn’t care if he didn’t want to tell her his secrets, as long as she kept getting Sundays like this one.
Because Sundays like this made Mondays a lot more bearable.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own the cast of How I Met Your Mother. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Marshall/Lily
Word Count: 982
Rating/Warnings: FRAO/NC-17; for sexual situations.
Setting: set sometime after Season 5's “Robin 101”
Summary: Marshall wrote the book on pressing Lily Aldrin’s sexual buttons.
Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.
There were only two things that were keeping Lily from passing out on the sofa on this particularly lazy Sunday afternoon. The first was the vibrant, distracting colors of Futurama and the second was Marshall’s fingers working her left, cherry-colored nipple to a hard point.
Her shirt and bra had come off sometime during the third episode and her body had been languidly warming under his touch ever since. When Bender mentioned something about kissing his shiny, metal ass, she nuzzled her head against his thigh, dark hair brushing against his faded grey t-shirt that bore the emblem of the Wesleyan Bishops.
Marshall responded with a quick nipple tweak, sending a buzzing arc of pleasure down to her core. He knew just how to recharge her battery, knew just how to break through her fuzzy, sleepy haze.
Lily twisted her body a little bit so she could lock eyes with him, and her body tingled from the lustful intentions she saw in his gorgeous eyes. He wanted her. He wanted to make her body come alive with moans and whimpers. And God, that’s exactly what she wanted too.
The hand that wasn’t concentrated on her full, round breasts threaded around her thigh until she could feel the bony ridge of his arm applying pressure to her pussy as those fingers spider webbed across the top of her pubic mound. It was a new sort of sensation, but it was one that left her feeling hopelessly aroused and desperate to lose her pants.
As he started to stroke her over her clothes, she rearranged herself so she could continue to grind her hips against him and grab his face with both hands to plant a kiss on her most favorite set of lips. (She’d never admit this to Robin, but Marshall’s lips beat out Hugh Jackman’s lips any day of the week.) She keened against his mouth and bucked her hips when he moved his hand so he could slide his thick fingers down the front of her jeans.
“Marshall…” she whimpered, seeking out his tongue with her own, determined to battle to the death as every square inch of her body started pulsing with need and animalistic desire. The way he was touching her made her feel crazy with lust, made her want to attack him, dominate him. It wasn’t fair that he got to be the one deciding how this game was going to go. She was supposed to be the seductive woman, supposed to be the one driving him mental with tantalizing teases.
Instead, she was going to be the one with the ruined set of panties because he hadn’t bothered to take them off before he made her sopping wet.
Marshall grinned like a dope as his wife propelled herself to her knees and straddled his lap. In this position, she was able to tower over him a little, able to swallow his face whole with her awesome, lip-sucking kisses. He loved making her nuts like this, loved feeling the wrath of her insatiability. It benefited him as much as it benefited her. “Yeah baby?”
“Bedroom. You. Me. Right freaking now,” Lily whimpered, fingers frantically clawing at his shirt. She wanted him naked, wanted him inside her, and she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Yes, ma’am,” Marshall chuckled, offering her a brief salute as she scrambled to her feet and bee-lined towards the bedroom door. He followed her slowly, taking special care to admire the way her bum jiggled as she tried to get to the bed and lose her pants at the same time.
It was the cutest freaking thing in the whole world. Even when she’s gone all Discovery Channel’s Most Dangerous Animals on him from the lust he’d been slowly feeding her all day. Spending thirteen years with the same woman had taught him more than any 101 course could have, and he sure as hell didn’t have to keep a notebook in his bedside dresser to remember all the little details that made her squirm in her bedroom. He had his Ph. D in Lily Aldrin and everyone else who thought otherwise could simply suck it.
Lily reached into the drawer and pulled out a small, purple square of foil, pushing it into Marshall’s hand as her fingers nimbly hooked into the elastic band of his Sunday sweatpants and he assisted by shimmying his way out of them and out of his plaid boxers. Then, he plopped down on the bed and rolled the condom on, a smile stretching out his entire face.
With a heady, breathless sigh, she sank down onto his engorged erection and gave herself pause before she let the aphrodisiac known as Marshall take hold of her again. The simple act of connecting their bodies just added fuel to her fire, added the zing to her zang, the bing to her bang.
She rolled her hips suddenly, shifting the position of his cock inside her and drawing a moan from her lips. Marshall slid his hands around her waist, and relished the moment when she started to bounce up and down like a cowgirl riding her favorite steed.
“When you do that to me, it makes me feel like I could come in five seconds or less,” Lily panted, punctuating each word with every down-stroke. “And. It’s. Not. Fair.”
As they both chased the orgasms to the moon and back, Marshall couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his lips. “No reason to be jealous of the trade secrets, baby. They’re really a win-win for everybody.”
Lily’s eyelashes fluttered as she crested the wave of climax and finally slumped against Marshall’s body, laying down kisses on the hollow of his throat. She didn’t care if he didn’t want to tell her his secrets, as long as she kept getting Sundays like this one.
Because Sundays like this made Mondays a lot more bearable.
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no subject
on 2009-11-02 02:20 pm (UTC)It's quite fun writing Marshall/Lily smut