Nothing To See
NOTES:
Author: Yana
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Anything through S4
Disclaimers: The West Wing and its characters are very much not
mine.
Archive: SotU yes. Others please ask.
AN: Written for the SotU September 2003 Blackout! Challenge.
“Okay.” Donna snapped the cell phone shut and dropped it in her purse, extinguishing the tiny light on the device and plunging the windowless room into complete and utter blackness again.
“What did they say?” Josh’s voice came from somewhere to her left.
She sighed and fumbled toward what she hoped was the closest wall. Her hands found the smooth surface and she patted it, then turned around and slid down to a sitting position on the floor. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes.
Not that it mattered at this moment whether her eyes were open or closed. The darkness was intense and complete.
“Donna?” Josh’s voice was further away now, but louder than before.
“We’re not a priority,” she said tonelessly.
“What?” he squeaked out in a high-pitched tone. “I’m the Deputy Chief of Staff to the President of the United States of America! How am I not a priority?”
She sighed again. “Your boss is stuck in an elevator, and his boss is stuck in the penthouse suite.”
“What?”
Clinging to her patience, she explained. “Leo--that’s your boss--”
“Quit messing around.”
“...is stuck in the elevator with Nancy and Fitz.”
“Oh.” Josh sounded deflated.
“So you can see why the President’s Chief of Staff, the National Security Advisor, and the Head of the Joint Chiefs being stuck in a hotel elevator, suspended hundreds of feet above the ground, is a bit more of a priority than us, stuck in a basement conference room with a locked door.”
She could hear him stumble as he tried to move toward her through the darkness. There was a thump and then the sound of him cursing and she realized he'd bumped into something.
For lack of anything better to do now that their tightly-planned schedule had gone flying out the figurative window, she decided to continue her explanation. “And the President and First Lady are in the penthouse.”
“How is that a priority? They have sunlight! Running water!” His voice was coming closer, though he was still noisily bumping into things.
“It’s on the sixtieth floor, Josh, and they only have two agents with them. How are they going to get down?”
“Oh. Ow!” He must have encountered the slide projector cart, because she heard the metallic squeak of wheels rolling across the carpet.
“Plus, until they know the cause of the outage, Ron Butterfield is going to be very tense.”
“He’s probably already sent agents running up the stairs,” Josh agreed, his voice sounding nearer than before.
“He’ll probably get a helicopter to airlift them out of there.”
Josh chuckled, then tripped over her legs.
She deduced this from the sharp impact of something hard hitting her ankle, followed by the sound of him saying “Wha? Wha--wha--wha--aaaaaaah....”, followed closely by a loud thump and the sudden crushing weight of a full-sized male body landing across her shins.
“Ow,” she said.
He groaned pitifully.
She continued talking as if nothing had happened. “They say they’ll either get someone down to take the door off its hinges, or just try to get us some power so that the security system becomes active again.”
He shifted and groaned again.
“They gave me the security code. If that keypad by the door suddenly lights up, I’m supposed to try it.” She tried wiggling her legs, silently urging him to lift himself off her, but he didn’t take the hint.
Letting the back of her head bang gently against the wall a few times didn’t help her mood. “They said not to expect anything for at least an hour or two, though.”
He didn’t respond.
“Josh?” She opened her eyes and, of course, saw absolutely nothing. The room was still an inky black. She sighed. While her eyes were closed, she could at least fantasize that the power was on, that they had light and a way out of this room.
“Josh?” she repeated impatiently. She heard a low muttering coming from him that sounded like “ow-ow-ow-shit-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-shit” and decided she’d had enough. “Get the hell off me!” Deliberately she bent her legs and drew her knees up, dislodging him.
He must have rolled away partly of his own volition, because she was suddenly and thankfully free of his weight. She wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged herself.
He was still muttering in pain, but she said, “Thank you,” in a sarcastic tone anyway.
“A little help, here?” he snapped.
She took a deep breath, gathered her patience, and tried to slip into ‘helping’ mode. “You’re hurt?”
“Just a little,” he sniped. “Just fell flat on my face in the dark.”
“You tripped over my legs, actually,” she said, her attempt at ‘helping’ mode failing miserably. “I felt you kick my ankle. It hurt.”
“You’re a fountain of solicitude, you know that?”
“Oh, come here,” she said ungraciously. “Tell me where it hurts.”
She felt a hand pat her foot and heard the shushing sound of fabric against carpet as he made his way towards her. His hand patted upwards to her knee, then clasped it, using it as a guide post for the rest of his body. She was jostled as he dragged himself up to the wall, then she felt his body next to hers, his warm arm pressed against hers as he sat beside her.
His next words sounded close to her ear, and his warm breath tickled her neck pleasurably as he murmured, “Shit. Shit, that hurt.”
“What happened?” she asked reluctantly.
“I think I twisted my knee when I fell,” he grumbled. “It really hurts. Plus I broke my fall with my hands. I felt it all the way up to my shoulders when I landed.”
Sighing, she reached out her hand and began patting his body. That was his torso. She slid her hand downward, intent on finding his knee and rubbing it.
“Uh, Donna?” Josh squeaked.
“What?”
“What are you doing?”
“Rubbing your knee. Or I will be.”
“Can I tell you that isn’t my knee?”
“Keep dreaming,” she snorted as she continued to pat her way down his thigh. She felt the hard curve of bone that was his kneecap and placed her hand gently on it. “This one or the other one?”
“That one.”
She explored the knee carefully through the fabric. “Let me know if I’m hurting anything.” Rubbing in gentle circles, her fingers slowly tried to soothe the stressed muscles.
Josh groaned again.
She stopped. “Was that a good noise or a bad one?”
“Good,” he muttered.
She went back to her gentle massage.
“Can you do it a bit harder?”
She considered. “Yes, but then your trousers will be all scratchy against your skin.”
“I could take off my trousers.”
She could hear his smirk and the playful suggestiveness in his voice. “Hmm...let me think... No.”
“You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Actually, I just did.” She slid her hand down his leg until she found the cuff of his trousers, then pushed the fabric upward and slid her hand underneath so that she could touch his skin.
“And now you have your hand up my pants, instead of down my pants.”
“You just can’t catch a break, can you Pumpkin?” She found the warm skin of his knee and began rubbing again.
“It would be highly inappropriate for me to say something like, ‘Hey, I’m no lil’ Abner, but you aren’t going to reach it from th...’”
“It would be incredibly inappropriate.” Against her will she smiled, and was glad that he couldn’t see.
She heard him give a mock sigh. “Can’t blame a guy for...oh, wait, you already did.”
Her hands continued to soothe the muscles around his knee and she kept silent, deciding that it wasn’t necessary to respond.
Josh continued to ramble. “I’ve never thought about it, but you know, usually when you’re falling, you can see the ground coming at you and you can judge when you’re going to land. So when you fling your arms out to break your fall, your muscles know just when to expect the impact. But it was dark, so I couldn’t judge. That’s why it felt like all my weight transferred up my arms to my shoulder muscles. My collarbone was really jarred. It still aches. Hey, you don’t suppose that when you’re finished with the knee, you’d rub that, would you?”
Idly, she constructed the scene in her head, thinking about what their positions would look like if the lights suddenly came back on. Nothing too incriminating, but they’d look like a couple of idiots, especially her with her hand up his pant leg, rubbing his knee.
“Donna? You still with me?”
“Yeah.”
“Well talk to me, would you? It’s bad enough that we’re sitting here in the dark--you not talking is just going to freak me out completely.”
She stopped rubbing. “Are you saying I talk too much?”
“No! No, no, no....”
“Good.”
“You’ll rub?”
“I’ll rub.”
“Good.” She felt him shift and heard him sigh with relief. “It’s just that when I sit here in the dark, Donna, I am reminded of the uncertainty that truly plagues my life. You‘ve heard the saying that all control is illusion?”
She snorted. “You don’t believe that.”
“I don’t believe that. But sitting here in the dark, my immediate future uncertain, I begin to wonder whether it might be true. I am truly blind in this room, Donnatella, reaching out helplessly with unskilled hands, trying to discern by clumsy touch the things I encounter...”
“Like, say, when you tripped over my legs.”
He ignored her. “...knowing not what I examine, trying my best to make out the form of an object and by that form deduce its function...”
“Dear God, you love the sound of your own voice.” She decided that his knee had received enough attention and fumbled for his pant leg, tugging it down.
“...and wondering whether, if I were able to see the thing, I would truly be able to comprehend it better.”
“Well, you did stare at the slide projector for ten minutes before I came and showed you how to load it.”
Privately, she decided that the easiest way to ensure that they didn’t kill each other in the dark was to keep him from moving from his current position. Hiking her skirt up a few inches, she carefully straddled his knees, placed her hands on the outer sides of his legs and began patting her way upwards.
“What the hell are you doing?” He sounded shocked as her hands skirted his hips and headed up his torso.
“Finding my way to your collarbone.”
“Are you...uh...” He paused. “Where are you?”
“Right here.” She had been walking her knees up each side of him and she estimated that she was now probably straddling his lap.
“Are you standing?” he squeaked.
“Kneeling.”
His hands reached out then and encountered the small soft wall of her torso. Mimicking her, he patted his way down her body, following the line of her legs past her slightly bunched-up skirt until he reached her knees on the floor. “You’re sitting in my lap!” he said incredulously.
“I’m not actually putting any weight on you,” she pointed out, annoyed. “You want me to rub or not?”
“Rub.” His voice sounded a little strained, but she ignored it.
She reached out and felt the surface of his chest, then slid her hands upward to his collarbone and shoulders. Through the thin cotton of his dress shirt she could feel the warmth of his body and the tension in his muscles. She moved both of her hands to the left and began working on one shoulder.
“I don’t know how you feel, so I’m not pressing very hard...”
“It’s fine.” He made a noise that she decided was one of pleasure, not pain.
She was working her way around the whole of his shoulder, kneading and squeezing the muscles there when something brushed against her side and across her arm. She froze. “What was that?”
His voice sounded a little hoarse. “Just loosening my tie. It’s getting warm in here.”
She pondered that. “Well, I guess that makes sense. The air conditioning won’t be working.”
“Right. Air conditioning.”
“At least we’re in the basement,” she observed, moving her hands across his collarbone, massaging gently. “Hot air rises. We’ll probably be the coolest people in the building.” She found his tie and managed to loosen it a bit more, then fumbled with the collar of his dress shirt to undo the top few buttons.
“That’s us. Cool.”
His voice had an edge to it that she couldn’t figure out. “Are you okay?” she asked, sliding her hands under his collar to find the warm skin beneath.
When her hands made contact, he started under her, his hips jerking up. Straddled as she was across him, she felt the hard buckle of his belt suddenly bump the part of her anatomy between her thighs. She yelped in surprise. “Josh!”
“Sorry,” he said lamely. “You startled me.”
She concentrated on her hands and his bare skin beneath them. “I’m just doing the same thing I was for your knee.” She began massaging her way to his other shoulder, feeling the warmth of his flesh, and tried to ignore the sudden flare between her legs.
It was as if that brief collision with his belt buckle had suddenly activated her flesh. Straddling him, her hands beneath his shirt, she realized how incriminating it would look if the lights came back on.
It would look as if they were about to have sex.
Her hands stilled just as she thought that word, and she had to pull her mind back to her task of rubbing his shoulder. But even as she did, she couldn’t help thinking the word again: sex.
Suddenly her own sex was itching, tingling, wanting nothing more than another collision with his belt buckle.
She felt wetness begin to pool between her legs as she became more and more aware that she was in the perfect position right now. All she’d need to do would be to slip down onto his cock only a few inches below.
If only he were aroused, she reminded herself. And, for the sake of argument, unclothed. She set her mind to the task at hand, finished his shoulder and began kneading her way across his collarbone again, being sure to stay up on her knees and not sink down into his lap.
Just a few inches, that part of her said. Here you are, wet and wanting, suspending yourself right above that fantastic cock.
Not that she knew he had a fantastic cock. And now probably wasn’t the best time to be thinking of that, or of how their respective sexes were closer than they’d ever been, and aligned so that...
“Josh?” she said into the quiet air, suddenly desperate for a distraction. It was the dark, she decided. She was moving according to her sense of touch, so all her nerve endings were firing, and if the lights had been on, she would never have begun to think like this.
Belatedly she realized that he hadn’t answered her, hadn't said anything for a minute or so. “Josh?” she repeated, her hands stilling and dropping to her sides.
“Yeah.” His voice was gravelly and much nearer her face than she’d imagined. Suddenly she could feel his breath on her skin.
“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to keep an unexpected urge to move towards him in check.
The sensation of warm breath on her lips and cheek intensified and she realized that if anything he had come nearer.
“Yeah.”
His voice even closer now, as if his lips were just inches from hers.
Just inches.
“Donna?” he whispered.
Less than inches.
“Josh...” she breathed. She could feel the warmth of his skin, each puff of air. He was so close...
“Donna...”
She gave up her fight with herself and dipped her head, seeking his mouth.
THWACK.
“OW!”
“OW!”
Her forehead had collided with something hard and she pulled back reflexively, her hands flying to her face. “Josh!” She rubbed her forehead vigorously in a futile attempt to take away the ache and sat back on him, ignoring the lump of his belt buckle beneath her.
“Donna! What the hell?”
“My forehead!”
“Your forehead? What about my forehead?”
“It hurts, Josh!”
“You’re damn right it hurts!”
“Why did you move?”
“Why did you move?” he retorted. “I knew exactly where you were, I was getting closer...if you’d just stayed still...”
“And waited for you? Gee, why didn’t I do that?”
“You never do,” he muttered.
“You want to repeat that statement?” she asked furiously.
“No! Never mind...this was a bad idea.”
She paused, and then suddenly all the anger drained out of her. “You’re right,” she said limply. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware that she was sitting on his lap, and that his rather large belt buckle was pressing against her damp underwear in an embarrassingly intimate way.
He groaned.
“Josh? Are you okay?” She leaned forward, reaching carefully for his face, and settled her hand against what she hoped was his cheek.
His hand came up to cover hers. “Just...stay still.” She felt his other hand touch her shoulder, then slide up her neck to cup her cheek.
Then she felt something move underneath her and suddenly realized with absolute clarity that the large, hard lump she’d collided with earlier, that bulge she was currently sitting on, was not a belt buckle.
Arousal flushed through her entire body. That large, hard shape was right under her, right where she wanted it to be, and she craved it like she’d never craved anything before.
She couldn’t help herself; she squirmed. “Josh?”
“Stay still,” he ground out, his hand on her cheek guiding her forward.
She knew where her other hand was, laid flat against his face, knew they were aligning themselves. She shut her eyes. Not that that made any difference in the dark. But it helped her concentrate on the location of her hand on his face, his hand on her face, and their slow movements as they drew closer and closer together. The shape of his cock under her became clear, and she didn’t know how she could have ever thought it was anything else.
His breath puffed across her lips and she realized he was really there. Her lips found his tentatively, hesitantly, and then suddenly she couldn’t wait any longer and neither could he. When she opened her mouth his tongue was there, filling her with a deep wet kiss.
The distance between them evaporated. Gone were the polite, guiding hands in the dark--her arms wound tight around his neck, keeping them close. His hands left her face and found her ass almost immediately, squeezing and coaxing her hips to rock against his erection. When she moaned involuntarily at the sensation of him rubbing her just the right way, he caught the sound in his mouth and continued to devour her.
Her desire intensified, and the only thing that kept her sane was knowing that he felt the same way. His arms came around her body and she felt him pull her close then slowly lift her and bend her backwards.
Realizing he was going to lay her down on the carpet, she did her best to shift and accomodate him. He was being careful with her; she could feel him running his hand over the floor beneath her before he deposited her there, making sure that she wasn’t going to land on anything uncomfortable. Then she was on her back, welcoming his weight on top of her, her legs falling open as his still-clad hips settled firmly between them.
He ground his cock against her and she arched, intensifying the pressure. She was ready, she knew, and all they had to do was pull off the necessary clothing, and then he would be...
“Ow!”
She froze. “Josh?”
He collapsed on top of her, then rolled to one side, pulling her with him because she was unwilling to let go of him now that they’d managed to find each other in the dark.
“Josh?” She held him tight, felt his face near hers as he muttered under his breath. “What’s wrong?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s my...ah...knee...”
“It’s still sore?”
“I’m probably okay to stand, but actually...uh...kneeling on it...or not kneeling but...uh...letting it support my...uh...”
He seemed to be intent on describing the problem in detail and she shushed him. “It’s okay, Josh.”
“It’s not okay! Plus my shoulders, when I tried to prop up...”
“There are other ways,” she soothed.
“But that’s my favourite!” he burst out.
She could hear the petulance in his voice and tried her best to stifle a chuckle. She wasn’t successful.
“I’m serious, Donnatella.” he growled. “You laugh, but I get very impressive results with that particular position.”
She wanted to ask who exactly got the benefit of those impressive results, but she bit her tongue.
“You’re still laughing, aren’t you?” he demanded.
“Mmm--mmm.” She tried to deny it, but her body was shaking as she tried to stifle laughter that was too near the surface to risk actual words.
“When I’m fully recovered you’re going to be laughing out the other side of your face.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’m going to do things for you that you’ve never dreamed of.”
“You already do.” The words tumbled out automatically, and she hastened to clarify. “I mean, I work in the White House and advise the President and...”
He interrupted her gently. “Have we reached the girly-emotional part of the afternoon?”
She blushed and was glad he couldn’t see. “Uh, no...I just didn’t want you to think I didn’t...ah...appreciate you for your body alone...”
“So you do appreciate my body?”
She was caught between a nervous giggle and rolling her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Hell, yes.”
“Really?” There was smugness in his tone.
“I dream of you, Josh,” she said dryly.
“You know, you sound like you’re joking, but I know you’re not.”
Deciding that she owed him one for being spontaneously honest about his favourite sexual position, she agreed. “I’m not joking. I dream about you fairly often.”
“Really?” Now he just sounded pleased.
“Really.”
“What do you dream about? Because I’ll make your dreams come true, Donnatella.”
She fought the urge to roll her eyes, then realized he wouldn’t be able to see and did it anyway. “We’re usually at work.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s kind of mundane, I know. I come in to bring you your schedule and we have sex.”
“Oh.” He paused, then apparently realized what she’d said. “OH.”
“Yeah.” she agreed. “Pretty boring.”
“Not...uh...necessarily...” His voice had a rather high-pitched quality to it.
“No! Not that the sex was boring...it’s usually fantastic. I’m just sorry I didn’t come up with a more exciting location.”
“Oh.”
She hastened to clarify. “The sex is amazing. You yell for me, I come into the office with your schedule. I close the door behind me. Then I put the schedule on your desk and while I’m bending over, making notes, you come up behind me, hike up my skirt, spread my legs, and...uh...go right on in.”
“Ah...”
“You...you’re usually very, ah, vigorous.”
“Really?” If anything his voice was higher.
“You usually, ah, do it to me...hard.”
“Oh,” he squeaked.
“Very hard. And you talk. We discuss the schedule while you...”
“While I...”
“Yeah.”
“So we’re working while we...”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
There was a long silence and she shifted a little. They were on their sides, facing each other, and pressed close enough that she could still feel the hard, not-a-belt-buckle shape of his cock against her mound.
“You owe me an apology,” he said finally.
“Why?”
“Because I’m never, ever going to be able to call for my schedule again without thinking of the possibilities.”
She laughed. “I have other office fantasies. There’s one where I’m kneeling under your desk...”
“No, no, no, no, no....”
“It’s lunchtime,” she continued mischieviously, “and you really need to unwind before an important meeting, so I mmmph...”
He managed to locate her mouth and silenced her with a long, deep kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair and her body strained towards his even though they were already locked in an embrace. She let him control the kiss and he swept in with the force of his arousal, taking everything she offered and then some.
His erection pressed against her urgently and she decided that they were going to have sex as soon as possible. Because they were laying side by side, she simply lifted her leg and hooked it over his hip. Now she had leverage and she used it to rock herself against him.
He seemed to understand her intentions right away. Though this might not have been his favourite position, she was relieved to hear him mutter, “That’s a fantastic idea” to himself. Aloud, he said, “Yes, Donna, just wait...” and gently moved her leg off him.
She made a noise of protest, but he said, “Just for a second, while I get my wallet.” She knew then what he was getting from his wallet and felt the twinge of anticipation between her legs.
Wanting to keep their fumbling to a minimum, she used that moment to tug her skirt up to her waist and pull down her panties. She left them around one ankle, so that she wouldn’t lose track of them in the dark, then relaxed on her side again to wait, her hand propping up her head.
She heard the rustle of a package being torn open and couldn’t stop from asking, “Need help?”
“I can put on a condom in the dark, Donnatella. It’s one of those skills a man never forgets.”
She reached out, found his shirt, and used those few moments to unbutton it. Sighing, she ran a hand over his chest, caressing and stroking, then undid her own blouse and the front clasp of her bra.
He groaned and reached for her. Slowly they inched together, so that they were pressed as close as before, except that now their chests were exposed. The hair on his tickled her nipples and they hardened immediately.
She hooked her upper leg over his hip again, bringing their now-naked groins into contact, and she felt the slick, hard bar of his cock clearly for the first time. In the dark it felt huge, larger than any other, and she blamed that on the fact that she’d never actually seen it.
The hand she’d been using to prop up her head reached forward and found his face. She drew him closer, felt the hand he’d likely been using to prop up his own head reach around and cup her cheek, and then their lips met again.
Her other hand bumped and tangled with his as she reached instinctively for his cock, wanting to guide it into her. Together they grasped it and she shifted up, using the leverage of her upper leg to spread her thighs just a little wider, so that he could place it unerringly at her opening.
Their fumbling alone had made her breath quicken with anticipation. Now, with the wide, blunt tip pressing into her, she was panting, hard and fast.
“Josh...please...”
For some reason, though, he was going slowly. His breathing was harsh in her ear and she felt his hand skim over her hip and then cup her ass. His hand pressed down, shifting the angle, and his cock began to slide into her, parting her swollen passage and then stretching it tight as he forged ahead.
Her first thought was that he was huge. That was why he was taking so long. He knew he was big, and he was being careful.
She tried to dismiss the idea. He just felt really wide and thick because she hadn’t seen him, she told herself. She didn’t know what to expect, so her body hadn’t made any unconscious adjustments.
Then he shifted again, adjusted her upper leg so that she was spread wider, and pushed forward some more, and she knew then that he really was big--it wasn’t just her imagination. Her already stretched tissues tried their best to give way to him and she began breathing deeply, resisting the urge to tense her muscles.
Breathe, she told herself. Relax. You can do this. Out loud, though, she couldn’t stifle her whimpers as she exhaled.
He halted his slow invasion when he heard her. “Are you okay?” he rasped.
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound okay.”
She felt the retreat of his cock, her inner walls springing back to normal, and then an overwhelming sense of loss. “No!” She clenched her upper leg around his hip, halting his withdrawal.
“Are you sure?”
“I need you, Josh.”
With a groan he pushed forward again, slightly faster than before. The part of her channel that had already received him welcomed him back, and then she breathed deep while he pushed to complete his penetration.
It took a while, because he insisted on moving slowly, giving her a chance to adjust to him. He also spent a lot of time guiding and shifting, finding the best route for both of them. Her tissues were throbbing as he began what she reasoned must be his final push, clinging tight to his shaft and pulsing around it like the beating of her heart.
He was deep inside her, now, and pressing deeper. She felt so full of him that she simply lay there, helpless and limp, letting him do what he needed to to fit himself all the way into her.
At the same time, though, her emotions were racing. She’d never experienced anything this profound. The trust she’d given him--to put himself inside her the best way he knew how--was enough to make her dizzy, because he’d recognized that trust and taken care not to break it, not to hurt her or even disappoint her by putting himself first.
It made their joining unique in her experience, eminently more satisfying and intimate than any other.
He was almost there--had she thought that already? She was sure he’d reached the wall of her womb, but maybe not. Maybe he still had an inch or so to go. He pressed deeper and she gasped, then told herself to breathe.
“Please...” She moaned, past knowing what she was asking for, and Josh groaned in response.
“I’m almost in,” he muttered. His hand pressed on her ass one more time, coaxing her down, and then with a little jerk of his hips, he was completely inside her.
She just knew. Her labia were brushing the flesh on either side of the base of his cock, and she’d never felt so completely filled in her life. Huge, she thought, trying not to panic. Tissues stretched tight, muscles trying to give way to the invasion...her heartbeat throbbing through her and around the wide, thick shaft inside her. Could he feel that too? she wondered.
His lips found hers then, brushing and caressing, and succeeded in distracting her from the sensations in her lower body. As their mouths met and tongues slid together, she felt herself truly relax around him. He felt good and big and hot and she tried to tell him that without words, with her lips and tongue and hands.
He seemed to sense the change in her because he pulled her close and nudged his hips against hers, creating just a little friction with that movement. Her folds were stretched around him and when he moved, they tugged on her clit. It felt wonderful, and she moaned with appreciation.
He pulled out just a little and then nudged his way back inside, and she moaned again.
“You’re so tight,” he whispered, pressing into her again.
She was beyond words. His small, gentle thrusts were hitting her exactly the right way and she moved to meet them instinctively.
When she did, he quickened the pace of his hips, making his movements fast and short, holding her ass tightly. She felt her entire body begin to shake as he stroked inside her over and over again. She whimpered.
His thrusts began to lengthen--instead of inch-long nudges he began sliding two inches in and out of her, still at the same rapid pace. As his strokes deepened, the friction against her clit increased, but it was his words of encouragement, his responses to the incoherent noises she made, that spoke most clearly to her. He was singlemindedly pursuing her pleasure.
That realization was what pushed her over the edge. She was panting and crying and he was praising her as she finally exploded. She clenched around him and wave after wave of pleasure shuddered through her body.
As she came back to herself, she barely realized at first that he’d used the distraction of her orgasm to begin taking his own pleasure. His thrusts were long and hard now; he was pulling out almost completely before driving back in, still maintaining the fast pace that had pushed her to climax.
His skin was wet with a sheen of sweat and she decided that the best way to thank him would be to work up a sweat too. Finding his rhythm she moved with him, adding force to his movements by pushing against him. They were both breathing hard when she felt his finishing thrusts, devoid of finesse and full of desperation, pounding into her, and the idea of him coming inside her pushed her into another, wholly unexpected, climax.
Stars burst behind her eyes as she was wracked yet again with pulsing pleasure. She heard his shout and felt his last fierce thrust and then he was quaking in her arms, gasping and crying out.
She held him tight in the dark, feeling his erection soften inside her but still loathe to let him go. His arms wound around her, holding her close, and she felt his forehead touch hers.
They lay in silence, and Donna closed her eyes, not that it made any difference. Their breathing quieted, their bodies began to cool, the sweat on their skin drying.
Eventually, tentatively, she tipped her head forward, seeking his mouth. His lips welcomed hers and they shared a long, wet kiss.
When they broke for air, he sighed. “I have to, ah, leave now...” He began withdrawing from her depths carefully and she was glad he couldn’t see her biting her lip.
They pulled apart so that he could take care of the condom and she suddenly felt cold and very alone in the dark. For some reason she became aware of her panties, a small scrap of fabric laying forlornly around one ankle, and she hastily sat up and pulled them back on. She tugged down her skirt, found the front clasp of her bra and did it up, carefully counted the buttons of her blouse with her fingers and refastened them.
He was somewhere near, presumably doing the same thing, but she couldn’t reassure herself with a quick look or a smile or an unspoken gesture. The darkness was becoming unnerving.
She didn’t know what the sex had meant for them, and wasn’t sure he did, either. But given that her brief mention of appreciating something other than his body had drawn a comment about girly-emotions, she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up the subject.
When he spoke, it wasn’t about the future. “Uh, Donna?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t happen to have any tissues, or napkins, or any kind of disposable paper product in your purse, do you?”
The pleading tone of his voice almost coaxed a smile from her. “Just a second,” she said. Picturing the room in her head, she visualized where she’d left her purse and slowly began crawling towards it. She made sure her hands were well in front of her, so that unlike Josh, she avoided the slide projector cart and the conference table.
She finally reached her purse and ran her fingers over it to find the zipper. Blindly rummaging inside, she located her emergency package of tissues. “Got it!”
“Would you bring them over?” he asked. “I don’t want to risk life and limb again.”
This time she did chuckle. Deciding that she may as well keep her entire purse with her from now on, she zipped it back up and began crawling in the direction of his voice.
“Josh?”
“Yes, Donna?”
“You want to talk to me, so I know where you are?”
“Sure.”
“Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not talking.” That annoyed her. It wasn’t like they didn’t have a number of things to discuss.
“Sorry. It sounds stupid to say, ‘I’m over here, I’m over here’.”
“Well it would sound stupid if the lights weren’t out, leaving us both completely blind,” she snapped.
“Fine.”
She regretted her sharp tone as soon as she’d said the words. “Do you think they’ve airlifted the President and First Lady yet? Or gotten Leo out of the elevator?”
“Do you think anyone else took advantage of the power outage to have sex...ow!”
“Serves you right.”
“Did you just swat me with your purse?”
“Yes, Joshua.”
“Well...ow! You know what I’m holding in my hand, here? A used condom.”
She giggled.
“Yeah, laugh it up and hand over the tissues, Donnatella. This is what I get for being a gentleman.”
She unzipped her purse, carefully opened the tissue package, and found his empty hand by touch, pressing a few tissues into it.
“Ick,” he said a moment later.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“And when you’re sitting in the dark later tonight, holding a used condom, don’t think you won’t regret those words.”
“Maybe we could keep the lights on next time?”
“If we have power, we’ll use it, Donnatella. I promise. Now what the hell do I do with the tissues?”
And that, she decided, was all she was going to get in terms of the girly-emotional part of their encounter. She’d wanted more, but supposed that the promise of a next time was a start. “It’s all wrapped up?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Carefully she pulled the rest of the tissues from the cellophane pouch and dropped them in her purse. “Give it here.” Her hand eventually made contact with his and a wad of tissues that thankfully felt dry to the touch, and she stuffed them into the empty plastic tissue package.
“What did you do?”
“Wrapped it in cellophane. I’ll throw it out later.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“I do.”
“You don’t happen to have any more condoms in that purse of yours, do you?”
“Nope.”
“Damn,” he joked weakly. “How are we going to spend the time?”
Despite the lack of so-called girly-emotions from his end, she couldn’t resist. “Well, there are lots of other things we could do...” she said leadingly.
“Really?” He sounded as eager as a kid with a new toy. “Like what?” She could swear he was bouncing.
Her hands reached out and found his chest. She stroked it and then slid her hands up to his face. She tugged him closer and closer, and when she was sure he was just inches from her lips, she murmured, “I’m thinking of a number.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath. “Really?”
“You don’t like that number?”
“I love that number...you don’t think it’s dangerous, though, under the circum...”
He broke off, and she could see why. A faint green glow suddenly appeared near what she could now see was the door, forming a weak arc of light on the carpet.
“The security keypad,” she said.
“It’s lit.”
“I’m supposed to try the code.”
She could hardly see more than the dim shape of him, but she heard his pout. “You can’t wait, say, half an hour?”
She sighed. “No. We really shouldn’t.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
She gathered her purse and the slides they’d brought to the conference room and saw him stumble toward his suit jacket. Going to the door, she entered the simple code she’d been given, heard the beep, and opened the door. The faint red light from an unseen exit sign indicated the way toward the stairs.
“Coming?”
“Yeah.” He ambled toward her, his jacket over his arm, and she paused in the green glow to straighten his tie for him. He dipped his head and kissed her again, slowly and lazily, promising with his mouth what he hadn’t with his voice, before he walked by her out the door.
She paused to look back into the room. After staring at the green light of the security keypad, she found the blackness even more pervasive, but a feeling of familiarity, of comfort, nevertheless lingered in the gloom.
There was nothing to see there, she reminded herself.
She closed the door carefully behind her and followed Josh and the red glow toward the emergency exit.
THE END