Rating: Explicit
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/M
Tags/contains: Consensual sex; one scene of very mildly dubious consent; light Dom/sub; mild kink; top/dom!Hetty; bottom/sub!Trevor; vaginal sex; F/m anal fingering; cunnilingus; spanking; exhibitionism; praise kink; degradation kink; friends with benefits-to-lovers; spoilers for 2x10; work in progress
Summary: Seconds after the end of 2x10, Hetty and Trevor figure each other out.
deep dive
by wembley
Surface. They needed a surface.
As if reading Trevor's mind, Hetty broke from his mouth, her lips red and wet, and gasped out, "The desk." She pointed shakily to the one to their right, up against the wall.
Fuck. This was actually happening. Sex. With a woman. With Hetty. Her mouth felt so good against his. So did the feeling of her body pressed up against him, her right hand in his hair, her left hand grabbing his ass. Hetty was grabbing his ass. Hetty!
She was so gorgeous. That red hair, against her skin. Those eyes. That face. Those completely covered up boobs. Why hadn't he noticed before?
They stumbled toward the desk, still plastered together, hands and mouths all over each other. God, he was so hard. She was so warm and firm and she smelled so good and the fabric of her dress felt so nice against his palms. Those sighs and moans she made when he kissed her neck. He'd missed this so much. Missed making out, missed sex, missed learning someone else's body with his mouth and hands. It had been so long. It'd been twenty-two frickin' years! Hell, forget that, it'd been so much longer for poor Hetty! Maybe... a hundred... years? Math too hard. Brain not working. Way too horny.
(Wait.
What if he'd lost the moves?
No way. T-Money would always have the moves. Just like riding a bike. A sex bike.)
Partly to prove to himself he hadn't lost the touch and mostly because it was hot, he lifted Hetty up and sat her on the desk. She let out a throaty, evil chuckle that made his dick twitch, made him want to go down on her for hours. It felt so, so good, hearing her dissolve into moans as he kissed her neck, ran his hands along her sides. She grabbed one of his hands, placed it on her still-totally-covered-up breast. Oh God, he was finally touching a boob for the first time in two decades! He squeezed gently and she gasped, kissing him, greedy for it, sliding her tongue into his mouth. Fuck.
"You are insanely hot," he said after pulling away briefly.
She flicked her eyes over him. He didn't miss how she lingered on... what his shirt was no longer able to hide. "Not so bad yourself."
He kissed beneath her chin. Well, less kissing, more sucking. "And you smell so good."
"As do you," she said coolly.
"Calvin Klein," he said into the other side of her neck.
"Trevor?" Then Hetty actually... rucked up her skirts a little and... slid her legs apart. She hadn't gathered the skirts up all the way, they still covered everything but... this was Hetty that just did that. Hetty Woodstone. Hetty. She arched a red, eternally well-groomed eyebrow. "Are we doing this or not?"
He immediately stepped between her legs. "Oh, we're doing this. If you want it."
She tugged on his tie, fingering the material. "Oh, I think I've made what I want very clear." She yanked him forward by the tie, then, and kissed him again. He could feel her gathering her skirts up, smushing them down so that... God. So that she was... exposed.
Whoah. More exposed than he'd expected. Her old-timey-long-john-panties didn't have a crotch. They didn't have a crotch! Trevor's mouth went dry. Not wanting to seem like a stunned virgin on prom night, he hid his face in her neck, composed himself. Slid his index finger down her midsection. Past her navel, into the giant pouf of hiked-up skirts. "I'll start with my finger. All right? If you want."
Hetty was breathing heavily already, which was both a turn-on and a killer ego-boost. "I-- I suppose that's wise." Gently, he slid his finger inside her and fuuuck, it was so slick and soft and hot. Hetty's back arched against his free hand.
"You're so wet," he whispered, loving it.
She slapped him hard across the face.
They both froze, staring.
"That," Hetty stammered, "that was... a reflex."
Trevor removed his free hand from Hetty's back. He touched his cheek, red and stinging. He was harder than he'd ever been in his life. "Do it again," he said, amazed.
"Are you mad?" Hetty cried, but before he opened his mouth to beg, she did it again, just as hard.
Trevor clutched his face. It tingled. "Woof. I had no idea I was into that." He kissed her sweetly. "Thanks." Then he started to slide his finger back and forth inside her, fucking her gently with it. Hetty buried her face in his neck, groaning. He felt her grind herself onto his finger and his dick twitched, leaked, at how fucking hot that was. That Hetty, that she...
"More," she hissed into his jaw, clutching the lapels of his jacket, "I need more. The real thing. Now."
Hetty was just as covered up and corseted as she'd always been, but clearly something inside had unbuttoned, unlocked, set her free. She was pure need. Writhing.
He slid his finger out and, gently, slowly, slid himself in. He clutched her, the small of her back, hissing through clenched teeth as he felt her, hot and wet and soft, and she squeezed herself around him. "Fuuuuuck," he groaned. "Yes. Oh, God, yes. Finally."
Hetty gasped, her voice deep. "Oh. Oh, yes. Ohhh, yes. More."
He started to move, taking it easy, he didn't want to hurt her, that was the last thing he wanted, and she moved with him and oh, that felt really, really, really good. Amazing. "Harder," she said. More of a growl. She was gonna kill him. It was too hot, he was gonna die.
He fucked into her harder, kissing her neck, and she kept rocking into him, kept meeting him. "You like that?" He sounded confident, playful. He had no idea how. How he even got the words out. How he said anything beyond, Guhhhh.
"Yes," Hetty said, her voice all deep and husky. "Yes. I like that. Good boy."
It took everything not to blow his load right then, hearing that. Yet another thing he hadn't realized he was into. He reached down, used his thumb to rub her clit as they kept fucking. Hetty's gasp was fluttery, surprised. "Yes! Yes! Again! Trevor!"
He felt smug. "Anything you s--" Her tongue was in his mouth. The kiss was intense, sloppy. He clutched her hair with one hand, still busy with the other, starting to fuck her a little faster. A little tough to stay coordinated, but T-Money knew how to multitask.
"Like this?" he murmured. "With my hand?"
"More. Harder. Right now."
Yesss, she sounded great doing that. "Mm, yeah, boss me around, baby."
Hetty pulled back, aghast. "That-- that pet name will not do."
He blinked. "Then what do I call you?"
Hetty looked at him like he was dumb. "My name?"
Figuring they should table this, he switched to the heel of his palm, since it sounded like she wanted more pressure. "Yes," she sighed, grinding against his hand, "yes, yes." Jackpot.
"You're so hot," he hissed against her mouth. "So fucking hot. So gorgeous."
"I shouldn't," Hetty managed, rocking against him, "shouldn't sanction such foul language."
"Mm hm?" He sucked on her neck. Could ghosts leave hickeys? "What are you gonna do about it?" His eyes widened as she smacked his ass, sharply. It felt great.
"To the right," she begged, touching his hand.
He obeyed, rubbing in that direction and she groaned. She kept squeezing him. God, he wanted to come so bad, but he knew only d-bags came first.
"You close?" he asked, in her ear. She nodded, breathing heavily. Oh, thank God.
He kissed her, kept rubbing her the way she liked, kept thrusting and he felt her squeeze and spasm around his dick, heard her moan again and again, felt her clutch his hair tightly. She moaned his name and that had him coming, hard.
He breathed heavily, hands planted on either side of her, pulling out. They made their way to the floor, laying there, shellshocked.
After a moment, Hetty cuddled up to him, which he didn't expect, and which he liked, a lot. He'd always loved the afterglow cuddle stuff. He wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close, played idly with her hair.
"Finally," Hetty said with a dreamy sigh. "After years of starvation, a satisfying meal."
"Amen."
They lay that way for a good while, her head nestled against his chest, him stroking her hair. Sometimes he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles.
She tenderly brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead. Then pulled out of his embrace and sat up, smoothing her dress down. "Well. Now that we've got that out of our systems, I trust both of us are content to pretend this never happened? And, obviously, it won't happen again."
Oh. Trevor's stomach clenched. His heart sank. "Totally," he said, sitting up. "Of course. Absolutely."
They lasted twelve hours. Which was kind of impressive.
"Quickly," Hetty hissed as they both worked to get her at least partly out of her dress, her corset. They were in her room, on her bed, the door actually shut, thank God.
They'd avoided each other all day. At least, he'd done his best avoiding her and it worked. Not too difficult to do in a mansion. Just did his best to hang out with the other ghosts, leave when she entered the room.
Tried his best not to be alone, either. Alone was trouble. He'd found himself pacing the hallway upstairs and his thoughts kept drifting to her small, soft hands gripping his jacket. The scent of her hair. Her mouth. Her-- No, nope, that's why alone was trouble, that meant it was time to go back downstairs.
Except now Hetty was in the hall, way at the other end. When had that happened? "Just leaving," Trevor said, "don't mind me--"
"And where do you think you're going, you ruffian?" Hetty asked with a frown. Trevor froze, in the middle of backing through the nearest wall. "I've been waiting all day for you to seek me out and seduce me again, and yet you're nowhere to be found."
Trevor took a step out of the wall, dumbfounded. "I-- You--" He gestured futilely. "You said you didn't wanna do it again!" Also, not that it mattered, but she had totally seduced him.
"Well," she said with a roll of her eyes, as she began to close the distance between them, "you weren't supposed to heed that request."
Trevor blinked.
Hetty walked slowly towards him, frowning. "Surely a well-traveled lothario such as yourself knows how this works, Trevor. I spurn, you pursue."
Trevor swallowed. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck. How could ghosts sweat? "Sam has been, uh, leaning pretty hard on me to learn all this stuff about... basically not doing any of that. Anymore. Trying a whole, 'taking things at face value, respecting boundaries' approach."
Hetty stepped into his space. Gently adjusted his tie, her eyes hooded, this Mona Lisa smile on her face. "Is Sam here?"
Screw it. He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back, hungry.
So that's how they'd ended up in her bedroom. They'd just paused the intense makeout sesh to try and get Hetty a little free of her clothes. They couldn't remove anything entirely -- it'd just poof right back -- but as long as the fabric was still touching some part of your body, you could rearrange stuff. They managed to peel her dress, her corset, down to her navel. Trevor swallowed. "Well?" Hetty asked archly, except her face flushed pink. "Are you just going to stare? It isn't gentlemanly, you know."
He cupped her right breast in his palm as he kissed her neck and she moaned softly. "Your hands are warm," she said, sounding far away. "It's nice." He kissed her, and then bent his head, mouthing her nipple. Hetty's gasp was sharp. "Oh. Oh, yes." He loved when her voice got all deep like that. He switched to the other nipple, sucking this time, and her groan had him so, so hard.
He kissed downward, down her still-clothed stomach. "Where are you going?" she asked, sounding disappointed.
He looked up, raising his eyebrows. "Where do you think I'm going?"
It took Hetty a moment. "Oh. Flower told me about this. You... You really...? Men enjoy this?"
He grinned up at her. "I love it."
And it was true. He really did. Honestly, he kind of had a reputation for it. He owed it all to his buddy's sister, Linda. He was home for winter break, freshman year at Penn, out on his buddy's porch one night, drinking beers and shooting the shit. Linda was with them, and she was suuuuuuper gay. Somehow, the convo had taken a turn and she ended up giving cunnilingus pointers. "You gotta get your whole face in there," she said, crushing her beer can. "Use your nose, use everything." Anyway. Linda had totally changed the trajectory of his life that night. And the trajectory of his mouth.
He knew there was absolutely no way Hetty was gonna return the favor. He was fine with that. Plenty of other things they could do.
Still. She looked a little nervous. He slid back up her body, rubbing a gentle hand back and forth along the smooth fabric covering her thigh. "Hey. We don't have to. I wanna do what you wanna do. That's all I care about."
Hetty studied him, silent a long moment. Her face softened. "You're so different from him." She paused. "I thought you weren't. That you were a newer, younger version of the same awful breed." Uh, thanks? "But you're not. You're not at all." Her expression cooled again, but with a little smile. "Elias never offered this. Not once. So yes. Do it."
He slid back down her body with a grin. "That's why that little bitch is rotting in hell," he said, pushing her skirts up and out of the way, "and you're about to get some full service." He heard her laugh and he leaned in, licking a line, bottom to top. Her laughter stopped, replaced by a gasp.
"Oh. Oh. That's. That's different. But good. Good. Do it again."
Her wish, his command. God, she was already so wet. Again. He experimented with licking a circle around her clit and she moaned, so he did it again, again. She was groping for him, stroking his hair, then clutching it, as he got himself nice and acquainted.
"Oh. Oh, Trevor. That feels... oh, that feels good."
He would've beamed, if his face wasn't totally buried in her crotch. Decided to play with her clit while sliding his tongue a little bit inside her. The moans, then, the way she ground herself onto his face... fuck, yes.
He "mmm"ed, trying to cause some vibration, but her breathing didn't change. Oh, well. He tried sucking on her clit a little and oh FUCK, she let out this high-pitched sound and grabbed the back of his head and pressed it down hard and he was so frickin' erect, he thought his dick would fall off. Fuck fuck fuck, that felt amazing. He moaned into her pussy, trying to communicate how much he liked that.
She let go of him, sounding panicked, apologetic. "Was that too much? Did I hurt you?"
He looked up between her legs, face wet. "No. No, please do it again, it was awesome."
Hetty smiled. "You do that again." Trevor blinked. "Beg me."
Hot! He kissed the fabric over her right inner thigh. "Please, babe."
"No," Hetty said sharply, "we are not saying that."
He smooched the other thigh. "I need something besides your name. Or it's just gonna slip out."
Hetty looked at him calmly, half-lidded. "I could live with 'ma'am.'"
Pow. Like getting hit with a mac truck. Right in the dick. His eyes widened. His dick twitched. His brain melted.
A slow grin spread across his face, lighting him up. "Ma'am," he said, nodding. "I like that. I like that a lot."
Hetty lay back, and she sounded happy. "Yes, now the begging, I want the begging."
He made his voice a little breathy. "Please--" Wait. This was Hetty Woodstone he was talking to. He furrowed his brows. "How X-rated are we getting, here?"
"Trevor, your face was just literally in my vulva."
Well, look who learned her own anatomy, finally! Great job, Flower! (It was probably due to Flower.) Still. If he said, Please let me lick your pussy, she'd run screaming from the room. "Please. Ma'am. Let me..." He nearly said, Go down on you and stopped himself. No way was he ruining the best private joke in history. He pushed her panty-capris up, kissing the soft skin of her thigh, buying time as his mind whirred through options. Oh. He'd used this word earlier and she'd liked it. "...service you. With my mouth." Kinda redundant, but otherwise it didn't feel dirty enough.
"Mmmm." She sounded like she was smiling. "Well. I suppose if you're really so desperate for it, I'll allow it."
Hey! But also: hot. He bent his head and went back to work, feeling an intense thrum of pleasure when she pressed his head back down into her crotch, holding him there.
He listened for when her breath would hitch, for when her moans went from soft to deep. To when she'd clutch his hair tighter, grind against his face harder. He loved how she tasted, loved the scent. She was so, so wet, and it had him insanely hard. He was desperate to touch himself but there was multi-tasking and there was multi-tasking.
"That," Hetty gasped, right after he swirled his tongue around her clit. "That, do that again, do it now." Didn't have to tell him twice. He could feel her thighs tremble against his palms, heard moans pour out of her as she kept grinding her dripping cunt against his face, as her back arched. Fuuuuck.
Her hand, in his hair, relaxed, stroking gently before letting go. He wiped his face (a lot), sliding up the mattress. Hetty wore a dreamy smile. Blissed out. Yessss, he thought, reflexively making a smug T with his hands. Hetty didn't see, her eyes closed.
Seeing Hetty -- Hetty -- like this... half naked, splayed out, happy, relaxed, looking like some kind of sated sex goddess... was still super weird. Super different. Super hot.
He collapsed next to her, grinning like an idiot. "How was it?"
Hetty made a non-committal noise. "It was adequate, I suppose."
Trevor's eyes snapped open.
Then he looked at her: Hetty was smiling. She was messing with him.
He cuddled up to her. "Adequate, huh?"
"Yes, you'll have to work much harder next time if you truly wish to impress me."
"So you're saying there's gonna be a next time." It was Hetty's turn to have her eyes snap open wide.
"Happy to get on my knees for you any time," he murmured in her ear, surprising himself.
Hetty sucked in a breath, then quickly composed herself. She looked him over, glancing sidelong down his body. "And what are we to do," she asked, smoothing a hand down his torso, stopping right before his pelvis, "about this?" Yep, his dick was still rock-hard.
He sat up and so did she. "What do you wanna do?"
A glint appeared in her eye. She shoved him back flat on the mattress, straddling him. Oh, yes, please.
She undid his tie quickly, hands flying to the buttons on his shirt. He started to help her, starting at the bottom, but she smacked his hands away. Nice.
Snapping his shirt open, Hetty groaned in disappointment at seeing his t-shirt beneath. Trevor couldn't help but laugh. "Really?" he asked. "You. You're mad about having to remove some layers. Just two, by the way."
"Well," Hetty said wryly, "we've all seen quite a bit of you over the years." She gestured below his nonexistent belt. "Forgive me if I'd like to see the half you've kept hidden."
She pushed his t-shirt up to his neck, then smoothed her hands down his chest. Her eyes were... hungry. He wondered if this was the first time she'd ever gotten to play around with the body of someone she was actually attracted to. He sucked in a sharp breath when she rubbed her thumb against his right nipple. They'd always been sensitive. He gasped again when she bent her head and sucked at it. Hetty was doing that. Hetty. Maybe none of this was real. Could ghosts hallucinate? Could you have a psychotic break from being too horny?
Then he felt her teeth. Just a little. "That's... oh, yeah. A little more. A little-- Too much!"
Hetty frowned. "I'm sorry."
He grinned. "It's okay. We're figuring each other out."
Arching her eyebrows again, Hetty placed her thumb and forefinger around the other one. She pinched very lightly. "How's this?" He nodded, a lot, sucking in air. Gestured in a circle: more. She pinched harder and he groaned. She let go and he tugged her down for a kiss, wrapping a leg around her.
"So, I take it you like that," she said, after breaking away. He grinned brightly and nodded, a lot. "And as for what I'd like..." She glanced sidelong down his body.
"You wanna get on top?" he asked softly.
She responded by gathering her skirts out of the way and sinking onto his dick. His gasp cut the air.
Trevor scrubbed his face with his hands. "Oh, fuck, Hetty." That felt amazing. "Fuck."
He looked up at her. She had that mysterious, Mona Lisa smile again. Even half-naked, she looked completely in charge. "Hmm," she said. "I like it up here."
He grinned. "I like you up there, too." With a cocked eyebrow, she started to move. "Oh. Oh, yeah. Oh, f--"
Hetty pressed a finger to his lips. "I thought we had a talk about language." He sucked her finger into his mouth and she gasped. "Naughty. But I'm not complaining."
She began riding him again, slowly. He let out a sigh. It felt amazing. She looked amazing. Maybe he had been sucked-- sent up. Maybe this was heaven.
He reached for her and she smacked his hands. "I'll tell you when to touch me, young man."
Hottt. And wait. A lightbulb clicked above his head. She liked bossing him around, she liked being on top... He lifted his chin a little. "You wanna tie me up?"
Before, he'd seen a glint in her eye. Now it was a forest fire. "How would we do such a thing?"
He tapped his tie. "Maybe it'll stay put if we make sure it's touching some part of me. It's been working for your dress."
Hetty's expression was predatory as she leaned over him, him still inside her. Carefully, she freed his tie, trailing it against his shoulder, his arm. He'd pushed up the sleeves of his blazer, his shirt, and the hair on his forearm stood up as the silk slid over it. She made sure some part of the fabric always touched him as she bound his wrists together, then tied them to her headboard.
He'd played around with handcuffs a few times. It had always just been fine, fun, whatever. Right now it felt... different. A little scary. And really frickin' hot.
She took him in, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm. You look lovely like that." She traced her finger down his chin. "Helpless."
"Mm hmm. You can do whateeeever you want with me."
She started to ride him again, faster now. "Like this, perhaps." His breathing picked up, his eyes fluttering closed. God, that felt good.
He opened his eyes again, which was a great idea, because she looked incredible up there. His hands flexed, wanting to touch her, and he couldn't, which was frustrating, which was, in turn, hot. She had her head tilted back, lost in sensation. And the feel of her, surrounding him, squeezing him... He moaned. Too loudly. Shit, it was late. He'd wake the others up. He bit his lip as she rode him harder, a sharp whimper, just as loud, leaving him. He flexed his fingers, bit his lip harder--
--and Hetty leaned down and clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened. Sweet merciful fuck, that was so hot, he was gonna die. Re-die. "Shhh," she said, riding him faster and oh, fuck, he was gonna come, he couldn't come, she had to come first, but her hand, over his mouth, oh fuck, he was coming, shit, shit--
Except it looked like she was, too, oh, thank God. Oh, thank God. He relaxed, climax rippling over and through him. He hoped Hetty's relative innocence meant she didn't know enough to fake it.
"Sorry," he gasped. "Sorry. Sorry. Did you...?"
Hetty blinked dreamily, slowly taking his question in. "Did I...? Oh. Oh, yes." She frowned. "Why are you apologizing?"
He flushed. "I, uh. I just, you know. I was taught... ladies first."
She smiled. "Ooh. I like that." Her smile became more wry. "But it isn't a law." She smoothed her hands up and down his chest, his stomach. "And I enjoyed watching you."
He flushed more at that, grinning. "Cool." Then he flicked his wrists, T-Rex style. "Would you mind, uh...?"
Hetty rolled her eyes theatrically. "If I must."
"I mean," he said, as she carefully untied him, "it makes the cuddling easier."
She let his tie hang limply around his shoulders and then cuddled up to him, head on his chest. "This is one of my favorite parts," he admitted, stroking her shoulder. He leaned down and kissed her hair.
She sounded surprised. "You. Really."
"Yes. Me. Really."
"Mmmm." She shifted, getting comfy. "I suppose I must admit I like this part, too."
"Yeah, you do."
"And that's true, what you said? It's proper etiquette that the woman... reaches her peak... first?"
"That's how I learned it." He kept smoothing his hand up and down her bare arm. She looked so different, like this, snuggled up to him. Vulnerable. But still had that boss-lady vibe, somehow. Neat trick. "I heard," he said conspiratorially, "that some girls-- women-- they'll tell the guy when to come. Like, the game is, he's not allowed until she tells him to." Hetty looked at him with that scandalized-but-also-tell-me-more-this-instant look he was beginning to get more and more familiar with. "That might be fun. If we were doing this again. Which we're obviously not."
"Obviously," Hetty said, drawing an idle circle on his chest. She paused. "Trevor? You haven't breathed a word of this to the others? Correct?"
He gave her a, You kidding me? look. "Of course not."
"Good. None of them can know. None of them. Ever. Understood?"
She was really, really embarrassed by him. Self-respect or hot sex?
Hot sex, obviously. He mimed zipping his lips. "Good boy," she said and kissed him.
I spurn, you pursue. He could do that. He could absolutely do that. Honestly, it was how he used to operate, before Sam (and Flower. And Alberta. And Sass. And Nigel?!) told him it was creepy.
(Speaking of creepy. He was still very attracted to Sam. Was that weird, since he was now also obsessively drooling over her great-great-great-great(?)-aunt? Nah. Couldn't be. Just meant he had good taste and they had good genes. Right? Right. Totally.)
Most everybody was in the kitchen while Jay made breakfast. Trevor leaned against the counter next to Jay, pretending to pay attention. Something something B&B guests, something something TikTok. Hetty sat at the table with Pete, as far from Trevor as she could get. She finally, briefly, glanced his way.
Trevor raised an eyebrow.
Hetty immediately looked away.
Strike one. Okay. No problem.
Later, he stood next to Hetty behind the check-in desk, while Sam frantically juggled guests.
He brushed Hetty's fingers with his own.
She jerked her hand away.
Strike two. Not great (especially because he was reeeally horny) but, this was the game, right?
Later than that, he was slouched next to Sass on the couch in his and Thor's room, Pete leaning on the backrest, Hetty next to him. They were catching up on yesterday's It's Getting Hot In Here; normally appointment television, but there'd been B&B shenanigans.
He wondered if Hetty was looking at him. Thinking about him. Hungry for him.
Trevor stretched, getting up. "I've seen this one. I'm gonna take a walk."
As he walked out, Sass said, "But this... just aired last night?"
He'd made it about halfway down the tree-lined path leading away from the mansion when it hit him. She wasn't coming.
Three strikes. What was he, the Mets? Not good.
Was he supposed to try again? Or was this a different kind of signal? Maybe she wasn't in the mood.
Or maybe she wanted to call it quits.
Trevor swallowed. That would suck. A whole lot. The sexual chemistry between the two of them... it was off the charts. Insane. Rare. He'd been with plenty of women and he'd had plenty of fun, but only a few could... match him, the way she did.
But, well. This all started on a whim. She was clearly embarrassed about the whole thing. And should he really be surprised that he couldn't keep things going with a hundred-and-fifty(?)-year-old Gilded Age chick in a corset? This was how it was always gonna end, right? No reason for him to fidget. To get all sweaty. No reason for his stomach to clench.
Wait. He heard a sound. A swish of fabric. He knew that swish.
"Well, well, well," he said, immediately leaning casually against a tree, arm going through it, nearly falling over.
Hetty closed the distance between them. "You certainly haven't learned much about discretion."
Trevor gave her another You kiddin' me? face. "I've been plenty discreet! No one knows a thing."
Hetty gestured to their surroundings. "You've led us out in the open. In broad daylight. For all to see."
Trevor took a little step backwards, into the trees. It'd give them some cover, if she chose to follow. "And what would they see? Two old friends, having a conversation."
She took a careful step towards him. "A conversation, you say."
He took another step backwards. The snow didn't soak his socks, didn't make a sound under his shoes; he passed through it like it wasn't there. "Is there something else you think they'd see?"
She got up close, still leaving a sliver of space between them. "You really are a dirty little exhibitionist, aren't you."
He knelt down in front of her, bare knees in the snow. It wasn't wet, wasn't cold, wasn't anything; only the air chilled him. "Maybe," he said, looking up at her, "they'd see who's really in charge."
She got that look again, that blaze in her eye. With a grin, he ducked under her dress, hidden from view.
Sneaking around was fun. And hot. And, not that he was proud of it, he'd had a lot of practice.
They'd kind of dispensed with the "deny me three times" thing and instead just proceeded to get the other kind of Biblical, whenever and wherever they could. A lot of making out behind tall furniture and in dark corners and down lonely hallways, a lot of scrambling back from each other and quickly adjusting their clothes and smoothing back their hair whenever their housemates strolled by. A lot of adrenaline spikes and quickly-manufactured lies and making sure they didn't leave or enter a room at the same time or from the same entrance.
Right now, they were in the doorway to the study. He kissed her neck, their hands were all over each other, and Hetty hissed, trying to keep quiet. "I," she gasped, "I thought that after we'd sated our hunger that first time... that that would be enough. But it's as if that's only made me more ravenous."
"Same!" Trevor pulled back, relieved it wasn't just him. "It's like..."
Hetty cut him off, deadpan. "Please, Trevor. We all know that this is all you think about."
That had been yesterday. Today, she found him waiting for her in the laundry room.
"Why on Earth," she asked, "would you want us to rendezvous here?"
Trevor gave the top of the washer an affectionate smack, like he was a used car salesman and it was an old Honda. Since the lid was horizontal, his palm made contact, a thwack ringing out. "Just wanted to meet my competition."
Hetty's eyelids hooded. "Oh, no. That sleek, silent, modern marvel could never pleasure a woman. No, my old friend was carted away months ago. More's the pity."
He slid into her personal space. "So you're saying I have nothing to worry about."
"Such jealousy. I would have thought you'd relish the opportunity to see if we could incorporate my old friend into our fun. After all," she continued, "I know you're fond of... accessories." She stroked his tie meaningfully. Yep, he definitely had half a boner now.
"You're," he said, in between kisses, "right. I... should... embrace... the--"
"Trevor!"
Hetty sounded alarmed. He looked up, panicked.
Oh. Jay had walked in. He whistled, oblivious, pulling his stuff out of the dryer and began folding it. Trevor was pretty sure he saw briefs with nerd dice patterned in neon.
"Hetty," he said, amused, moving behind her, sliding his arms back around her, as she stared at Jay, frozen in horror. "He can't see us."
"I know that," she huffed out, "but he's right there! This is... indecent! Prurient! Obscene!"
"And hot," Trevor said. He jumped as Hetty slapped his thigh. "C'monnnn." He smoothed a palm down her left side, over her dress, then started to inch it up just a little. "It's all the thrill of getting caught, except he has no idea we're here! That doesn't turn your crank a little?"
"You really are a disgusting pervert," she said wearily (and fondly, he was pretty sure), while Jay continued to fold his undies.
"Mm, yeah, talk dirty to me."
"I was insulting you."
"I'm into it! I like when you do your whole," and he attempted his best Hetty impression, "'Oh, Trevor, you ignorant slut.'"
Hetty gasped, breaking out of his arms, whirling on him. "I do not sound like that!"
He grinned. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Jay continued to whistle. Trevor was pretty sure it was the theme from Friends. "Turn around," she whispered.
Okay, he was game. He did, placing his palms on the washer lid. Then he felt her lips on the back of his neck. Oh. That felt nice. He glanced over at Jay. Still folding.
Hetty reached around his front. Her hand trailed down his midsection. Down to his navel. Lower. Stopping right before...
Then she smacked him hard on the ass. He jumped.
"Ha ha," he said, "very--" She did it again. And just like when she'd done it when they first hooked up, it felt great. Something about the sting, the sound, that it was unexpected.
That said. "Are we, uh," he said with a nervous grin, "gonna do this in front of Jay? 'Cause, uh..."
"Oh," Hetty said in his ear, "so when it's your dignity on the line, suddenly it's time to pack up and go home. I see." And okay, maybe she had a point. Except he'd thought that as long as Jay was there, it'd be makeouts and some hand stuff. Hand stuff was easy to hide in case a ghost or Sam walked in! Not this! He gasped as she slapped his ass again, even harder. He leaned forward a little, on his forearms, sucking in air. Looked to his left, at Jay just folding boxers and nerd shirts. Steps away from him. Steps away from him getting fucking spanked. It was mortifying. It was... yeah, he could already feel some wires start to cross. His dick leapt up, at full attention.
"Okay, Hetty," he said, "let's-- let's take this to the bedroom."
"Beg me."
He stared. He could feel her hands moving lightly up and down his sides, his torso, always brushing just close enough to his dick but never touching it. He tried to form words. He was so, so turned on. She slapped his ass again, right where she'd smacked it before, and it was starting to actually hurt and that hurt seemed to soothe some kind of deep-down ache in him, feed some hunger, scratch some itch... it fixed something he hadn't even known had been broken.
"Please," he said, and seriously, Jay was barely two feet away and anyone could walk in on this at any moment, "Hetty--" Another slap. His dick leaked. He stuttered out a breath. He realized his mistake. "Please, ma'am," he corrected, "let's go-- go back to--"
"Beg me," she said, and then paused, and said, very quietly and precisely in his ear, "you ignorant slut."
FUCK. "Please, ma'am, I, let's go back--" Another slap. God, it hurt so good. "--I wanna touch you, I wanna go down on you..."
"Good boy," she said in his ear. Then he felt cool air as she moved away from him. "I'll meet you there," she added, gliding through the wall.
Trevor stared, sucking in air, as Jay picked up his mountain of folded clothes and walked out.
The minute he stepped through her closed door, she was glued to him, mouth on his, hands in his hair. He was surprised to feel her lips on his neck. He shivered, sighing. He wasn't as sensitive there as Hetty, but it was the novelty -- she usually only used her hands to explore him, not her mouth.
She raised her eyebrow, gave him one of those imperious looks, and said quietly, "Now get on your knees. Where you belong." He dropped down instantly, it kinda hurt his knees, he kinda loved that it hurt, and he pushed her dress up, kissing her thigh. He got to work and she tangled her fingers in his hair, twisting, pushing him in, hard. He groaned.
He'd only gotten started when she panted out, "Wait. Wait. I've changed my mind. Get up." Intrigued, he stood. She cupped his face and he leaned in. As she backed up towards her bed, it's like he was pulled along by an invisible thread. She lay back, tugging him on top of her. God, he was so turned on, it was like it melted his mind. He felt like he was... he didn't know. Drunk or high or like if he couldn't touch her, if she couldn't touch him, he'd die all over again. He kissed her. Oh, fuck, Hetty had her hand around his dick. She didn't usually do that. He whimpered. "Inside me," she ordered, voice quiet. She helped him get her dress up and out of the way, and he slid into her, burying his face in her shoulder to muffle his groan.
"F-fuck. God, you feel so good."
She was clutching his hair again, tightly, not quite hurting. Just this pressure near his scalp that he really, really liked. "Good boy," she moaned softly. "Just like that. Just like that." His breath hitched. He kissed her neck, her face, all over, desperate to hear her say that again, to say he was making her feel good, doing a good job.
"I wanna make you feel good, bab-- ma'am," he corrected. God, fucking her felt fucking incredible. "All I wanna do is make you come."
"Touch me," she ordered, and he did, the way she liked, and he wondered if he was getting her close. He sure as hell was.
Apparently she could tell. "Oh, you're not to finish," she said with an evil smile. "Not until I allow you to. Understood?" Wide-eyed, he nodded.
God, the feel of her, all around his dick. Her sighs and her moans and the way she writhed against him as he fucked her and played with her clit. He felt her start to tremble, could tell by now she was starting to come, and man, he really needed to.
"Mmmm." Hetty closed her eyes, blissful. She held up a finger. "Not yet. Keep going."
He slowed down, in case she was super sensitive right after, but did what she said. Every second that passed felt like two thousand years. God, he needed to come so bad.
Trevor gasped. She’d run her thumb over his nipple, over the shirt fabric, then pinched it. And kept pinching. "H-huh. Please." It was too good. It was too good, he wasn't gonna be able to control himself. He kissed her, desperately.
"Please what?" she murmured against his lips. She let go of his nipple, tracing a circle around the other one.
"Please, ma'am--" She pinched it now, the exact amount of pressure, of pain, that he needed and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, whimpering. "Please. Ma'am. Please. Please."
She let go again, stroking his hair. "Go on then, dear," she said, voice low. With a stuttering cry, he came, hard, collapsing onto her, head on her chest.
Hetty continued to stroke his hair. "What a good boy you are." He melted.
She let him lie there like that, a mindless puddle of goo, his cheek resting against the smooth, cool fabric covering her breasts. Eventually, she asked, "Trevor?"
He never wanted to move from this spot. He was replaying the sound of her calling him a good boy over and over and over. "Uh huh?"
"Earlier. In the other room. Did you really say you wanted to go to Hell for me?" Trevor lifted his head, brows furrowed. "You told me you wanted to 'go down on me.'"
His eyes widened. Oh no. Oh noooooooo! "Oh, yeah," he said quickly, "totally, anything for you, babe. I mean, Hetty."
Hetty pursed her lips. "I think we should be clear about what's taking place here, Trevor. This is merely..." She gestured, wrist turning in a vague circle, searching for the words. "...two colleagues... meeting each other's needs. Nothing more."
The warm melty feeling evaporated. But it was fine. He totally agreed. They were just helping each other out. Right? "Oh, yeah, totally, in fact, I am relieved to hear you say that, I was, you know, I was getting a little worried. Same page. Absolutely."
She leaned down, kissing his hair. "Very glad we cleared that up."
TO BE CONTINUED! EVENTUALLY! HOPEFULLY!
End Notes
- Big thanks to all who beta-ed or gave this a look-see: Wotwotleigh, Annber03, wytchwoods, RamonaHb, jmagnabosco, anonymoose_au, Dunnie1220, Hestia01 and Mooncalf87. (If I forgot you, I'm so sorry! DM me on Discord or comment here and I'll add you. Same if you want to be removed.)
- The "You young ruffian, etc." and "I spurn, you pursue" dialogue is all Wotwotleigh. <3
- Title stolen from Zaryah. Here, have a playlist.
