dinohouse | BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

BATH TUB / SHOWER MEME, open to anyone

from here

In the interests of good clean fun, we're providing you with a bathtime meme~

The scenario is quite simple, your character finds themselves in the bath or shower with another character (clothed? Naked? Getting naked? Who knows~ That's part of the fun!), whether this is normal or your character has just "poofed" into the situation is up to you! Hijinks ensue.

Feel free to mix and match, use the options below, or go to RNG and let the gods decide

1. dropped the soap - ..Huh... how did you end up in prison? And during shower hour....

2. peasoup steam - The water is hot tonight and the steam is making it way too hot to see anything! Keep your hands to themselves

3. slip and slide - Whoooa all those puddles are making it hard to stand up straight. Maybe someone can help you out.

4. accidental peeping tom - Oh the joys of communal showers.... especially if someone starts attending to their... "needs" right next to you.

5. bubble bath - Because FUCK YEAH BUBBLES.

6. obligatory sex option - Huh, you're stuck in a shower with someone... and there's a note taped on the door. "If you want out, you gotta make out for 10 minutes~ Cheers!" Did we mention the aphro pumping in with the steam and water? Because there's that too.

7. ANYTHING ELSE. Anything and everything else.

Remember when you post up with your character, make sure to specify if you're okay with smut or not!

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That makes his whole face flush and he doesn't quite manage to swallow a moan, low and liquid, burying his face against your shoulder and biting lightly as his hips jerk slightly into your touch, his whole body shivering electrically.

"No," he manages, turning his face into your throat. "...no, I'm not ticklish."

Oh. Oh, that's not...how he'd interpreted it the first time. But now it's pretty obvious.

Your speech against his throat makes him swallow hard, trying to steady himself. You've obviously recovered a lot faster than he is. He's quite a pace older, and tries to give himself a pardon on that account.

His brain helpfully replays your moan, your mouth on his skin, your little bite.

Now it's his turn to make undignified sounds - just one, and just low, but it's there.

"Shingo...I'm afraid I'm...inclined to take advantage of you." He clears his throat, his cock beginning to stir where it's pressed between your bodies. "Uhm. Again."

What is wrong with this place? Is it some sort of...of drug? Date grits his teeth, trying to control the rising urge he's feeling. This isn't like him.

You flinch against him, maybe he hit another ticklish spot as his palms have, quite without his conscious command, flattened out upon your chest and belly and begun to stroke wide swaths of skin in random patterns. He has to gulp, hard.

Gods above, though, maybe it should be.

He shivers when you make noise, leaning against you and breathing out on a soft sigh. "You aren't taking advantage of me," he says thickly, nuzzling under your jaw. "I want you to."

He presses his body to yours, feeling his own cock stir as their skin slides together under the heat of the water. He takes a breath and a sudden, powerful longing hits him as he wonders what it'd be like to have you in a bed, warm and soft, your hard, smooth weight pinning him down and your mouth rough and wet at his neck--but he cuts that thought off, knowing it for the grasping selfishness that it is, and turns his attention back to your hands on his chest and belly. He arches into them, his mouth brushing your earlobe as he sighs your name again, his own hands wandering as he tries to find senstive places on your body.

Your fingertips on the lateral ridges of Date's ribcage will find the first treasure - he shivers, arching up and trying to get away, as he is, in fact, ticklish. His laugh is mid-tone, rapid, throaty.

His nipples are the next prize you'll find from there - the gasp and wriggle he makes then, losing his breath on the sound, are for an entirely different reason, definitely not ticklishness, and he arches against you, one leg parting yours only mostly by accident, and partially by deep instinct. Once there, he arches against you, until the heat of your groin on his thigh makes him pause, glancing down.

Then he stretches his arms, fingers spread and seeking. He reaches down to cup your ass and tug upward, angling you harder against his thigh. Muscle bunches hard under your sack as he shifts his balance, his leg strength lifting you, and your lips forming his name just demand to be kissed. He does, extensively, tongue seeking as far as he can go.

"Sh-Shingo," Date breathes, one hand on either side of your ass holding you up, keeping you on tiptoes against him. His heart is pounding.

"I'm--I'm afraid I can't be as considerate as you deserve." One of his hands slides from your ass to your cock, palming it roughly. "I feel--" He's starting to be alarmed, the adrenaline of his orgasm fading and leaving his mind calm enough to embrace the confusion of why he's acting like this, why he can't seem to stop.

Your fingertips on his skin distract him again, and his cheeks flush darker. He's lightheaded, and keeping his thoughts straight is getting increasingly difficult.

"I'm...I shouldn't," he tries, only able to make his words obey the second-guessing of his higher nature. The rest of him's quite busy rocking against you, his cock half-hard and pressed up against the bottom of your sack and the crack of your ass, trapped at a downward angle because of the intimately close press of your rock-hard cock and his palm against his own belly. He rubs you, slicking his palm with precome from your tip.

"Shingo."

"Date--" Shingo manages before you're touching him and he can't help shuddering against you, clutching at you a little for support. He struggles to hold onto what you're saying, squirming against your chest and arching his back.

But then he catches the desperate edge in your voice and twists in your grip, pushing you gently back against then nearest wall and using every last milliliter of his self-control to grip your and pull you away from him, pinning you loosely to the tile wall. He breathes roughly against your collarbone for a moment, flushed and achingly hard and trembling against you before he draws back, not quite able to meet your eyes.

"Do you want to stop?" he manages, taking soft, panting breaths and feeling his throat tighten. "We can stop, if this isn't what you want. I don't know what this place is doing, but--but we don't have to do this, Date-san." He takes a step back from you deliberately, still shaking slightly all over and painfully hard against his belly. "It's all right, if you don't want to."

You're shaking, vibrating just to pull away from him, and to Date's eyes, even though he doesn't understand why, even though it's just the doing of whatever's in the air, he knows that, it's this chemical or vapor or whatever you two were drugged with doing this, toying with your emotions and with his own too, despite all of this, you're...

Well, you're quite a sight.

"Shingo, I..."

The cool wall at his back helps clear his mind a little - just a little, though, because he can't drag his eyes away from your cock, standing proud like that, so perfectly sized and absolutely delectable looking and he's ready to just-- it's just too --

"Gods." His voice trips, stumbling over the simple expletive, rolling a frustrated, needy, gut-deep growl into the several syllables that he manages to work into the short single word.

So he has to swallow hard to find his voice again, tearing his gaze back up to your face.

"I don't want to hurt you, Shingo."

He looks up at you intensely, then lets go of your wrists and steps back, pressing a hand to the center of your chest. He can't quite force himself to stop touching you, but he takes shaky breaths and looks up into your face.

"I won't let you hurt me, Date," he says, his voice stronger and his eyes sharp. "You aren't hurting me. I want this. But if it's not something you want, we can stop."

"It's not that I don't want you, Shingo," Date says slowly, gaining steadiness by feeding off of your resolve. "I don't know what's done this to us, and I don't know how you'll feel when we escape it.

"I don't want you to regret impulsive actions."

He crumbles a little at that, curling in against you weakly and gasping slightly, his body pressing to yours again and the breath leaving his lungs.

"Date," he chokes, pressing his face in against your chest. "I mean it, when I say it's all right. I won't regret it. But I don't want you to either."

Your breath against his skin, the rub of your brow against his breastbone - you're shaking your head, he's biting down a whimper.

He's still worried. There's a lot more could be said. And neither of you even understand what's actually got a hold on you.

But you're saying yes with your words and please with your body. And his body begs, too.

He cradles your face in both hands, lifting, straightening your bowed shoulders and neck. The shower head, still running, is slowly spinning on its hose somewhere nearby. He grabs it, washes you over with warm water. His eyes are dark and hungry and calm, still pools of emotion and understanding and above all that, trust.

He'll trust your word, and trust you to trust his. Your bodies are screaming at you both.

Date strokes one palm, flat, heavy, warm, across your belly, following the water's spray. He kneels, pressing the handle of the showerhead into your empty hand. His are going to be busy in a moment.

He holds you by the waist with one hand. His other rubs across your belly, seeking that shudder out, coaxing it again and again.

He takes you in his mouth without looking up, attention downturned, focused on his task. You fit easily - he's got a big mouth. He works his tongue against you, sliding further down, assessing his own comfort and adjusting.

Shingo leans into it when you press your hands to his cheeks, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing, half-expecting to be pushed away... but when he opens them again your face is soft and you're running warm water over him, pressing the showerhead into his hand.

He bites his lip when you stroke over his lower belly again, his hips stuttering, but then he's scrambling to put it back in its stand as you kneel in front of him, oh god, and your mouth closes on his skin, slick and scorching. He can't smother an embarrassingly loud cry when you take him in, his thighs shaking--this always undoes him, to the point where he can barely stand, and he just clutches at your shoulders and sobs a little, leaning hard back against the nearest wall]

Your hands on his shoulders, your helplessly wanting cry in his ear - Date hisses in a breath through his nose, working his tongue in the limited space he has to work with. He pulls back, laves your tip, measuring the taste of you, paying close, suckling attention to the frenulum under your head. But you're shaking, trembling, and he has no desire to be cruel.

Again he takes you in, deeper this time, tightening his lips around your shaft, loosening to adjust, tightening again. This time he gets the suction and the placement right, and he's obviously very comfortable as he suckles you down, sliding smoothly almost to your base, and back again, setting up a confident rhythm. His shoulders bunch under your hands as, with everything properly settled in front and center, he can release your hip and your balls and instead grip your thighs, bracing your knees against his upper arms. His own kneeling stance is braced strongly, every bit of him that you can see engaged in this, absorbed in the concentration he's putting into this.

Past his shoulders, you can see his toes gripping the tile, his calves tensing with each dip forward he makes, even his ass and the small of his back. Every bit of him moves with intent, with focus. Date Akira doesn't do anything halfway. And though he's loquacious to be sure, he never relies on only words when the same message can also be conveyed, with more certainty, in other ways.

He's got you. Go crazy.

He leans on your shoulders and squirms, biting his lip and shaking helplessly to keep from begging as he feels your mouth on him, drawing slowly. He can't control the sounds he makes, though, gasping and helpless as your tongue traces against his skin and he feels your lips tighten.

He stops biting his lip to gasp, and the words spill out of his mouth even as his thighs shake. "Please!" he chokes, his nails digging slightly into your shoulders--and he knows this will shake him, drag him to the edge, but he can't stop himself from asking-- "Please, your fingers, I need--"

You're so responsive. The lightest touch sends you spinning. Every one of Date's actions drags two reactions from you. You're a joy, an indulgence. You make him feel so powerful, that he's creating something beautiful for you, upon you.

And you ask for more, begging as though it's a hardship you ask of him. He nods softly, humming absentmindedly, reaching. You're still slick and loose from before, but he can feel your body shiver, tightening as even the very brush of his rough fingertips excites you. He presses two closely together, shielding his forefinger's nail with the pad of his middle finger, and stroke into you.

He gasps as your fingers press into them, pressing his back flat against the wall and trying to lock his knees as you push deep enough to touch that sensitive place inside him and he grits his teeth on a desperate sound. He trembles there, feeling your mouth on him and your fingers in him and your hand stroking at his lower belly and suddenly it's almost too much and he's tensing, one hand coming in to cup your jaw.

"Date!" he says, his voice tense as his belly tightens. "I can't--if you want to pull up, oh."

Date's only response is to snicker briefly. Now, right as you're teetering on the edge of orgasm, he breathes in deep through his nose, holds it, and finally slides completely forward, gulping down your whole cock to the root until his nose comes to rest against your belly, nuzzling your skin through your short hairs. The heel of his rear hand angles up, gently pressing under your balls, his thumb lightly stroking, adding angled pressure to your perineum.

His heart swells with satisfaction as he can feel the effect all this has on you. You're just long enough to feel your tip teased by the constriction of his throat as he swallows, his breath held, waiting you out with faith.

"Oh--oh!" Shingo nearly sobs when you slide all the way forward and he nearly doubles over before he comes helplessly, his eyes fluttering shut and his lips flushed and parted as his knees shake. His body clenches around your fingers in tight, clutching spasms as he spills down your throat, long shudders dragging down his spine before he slumps back a little, completely spent, all his muscles going slack as he struggles to keep his feet under him, staring down at you with dazed eyes.

Date pulls off your cock quickly, once you're spent, gulping air and steadying himself, first of all. You're partially held up by his frame bracing your legs from sliding too far, but you're melted more than butter and the precarious balance you've got is not going to last.

He reaches for you, supporting your descent, slowing it somewhat.

"Shingo." His voice is roughened somewhat, and he coughs to clear the stiffness from the back of his throat. He's rock-hard, but that's not his focus right now; he's coasting so high on pride and pleasure from doing this to you that his own arousal is tied into that pride, tied into that pleasure. It's a patient lust, an enduring one. He'll attend to that in a moment. For now, he gently guides you into his arms, propping his back against the wall, propping you against him.

By this point you're both a mess, and he licks his lips roughly, pressing a clumsy kiss to the side of your neck as he helps you settle onto the shower room floor, much more safe and at far less risk of concussing yourself.

The water, nearby, washes over one of his shins, warming the muscle that cramped a bit while he knelt before you. He notes it, thinking a good wash off, with soap to sanitize his hand and your quite lovely entrance, is quite in order.

In a minute.

Shingo sighs and presses in against you, cupping your cheeks and squirming up to kiss your mouth hard, shuddering as his tongue slides between your lips and he tastes himself, his tongue stroking against yours. He's flushed and trembling and pleasantly sated, and he can feel whatever was clouding his head start to ebb from his system as he relaxes, just pressing wet, slow kisses to your mouth.

He shifts again, feeling you cock drag against his hip before he pushes back and cups your face, his hands still a little unsteady.

"What do you want?" he breathes against your mouth, pressing the length of his body against yours as he holds you closer, arching his back. "How do you want me to..." He reaches down, one hand touching your hip as he slides his mouth down your throat, just kissing your damp skin hungrily.

Date smiles against your kiss, feeling you shake and indulging in a little shiver or two of his own. It's all deliciously pleasurable. He's just riding it all, contented.

When you speak he strokes your wet hair out of your eyes, meeting yours with his own, and a soft shake of his head. "Shh," he breathes, stroking your hair, your nape, your shoulders, pressing you against him, to relax, to be supported by him. "Don't rush it. Just enjoy it for now. I'm fine."

He nuzzles into your palm, his cheeks flushed and his lips parted as he sighs, then presses against you again. He can feel you digging into his hip and he slides a hand up your chest to tease lightly at one of your nipples, his mouth warm and slow as he presses light kisses up your shoulder.

"I want to," he hums into your ear, his voice low and warm as he pinches gently at sensitive skin, just rubbing his hips gently against yours.

Well that's. Hard to argue with.

His head falls back, mouth working silently as your fingers temporarily strip thought from his mind. His hips move softly in answer to yours, thick thighs flexing.

"Well...that's...okay then," he says, after a few more minutes of this, by which point he's come back up to full hard - say what you want about its aphrodesiac properties, of which there are many, but partial suffocation does affect bloodflow, it's a medical fact - and he's twitching in your arms, wondering why he was thinking it was a better plan to take care of this himself. Your plan is far better.

He tries for coherence, fingers raking through your hair to grip and hold, press your mouth to his chest, and he gasps as he does so.

"That feels...Shingo, that feels very.

"Mmmgh."

Pretty complex sentence, all things considered.

Shingo nuzzles under your jaw, his breath warm and his body shifting away from yours, bracing himself on your chest as he looks down at you. His hand slides low on your belly, then curls around you to stroke gently as he nibbles his lower lip, his eyes intent and searching.

"Do you want to stand up?" he asks softly, his lips parting and his cheeks flushed.

He shudders against you, ribcage jerking abruptly as he sucks in air, your hand on his cock distracting him almost from the fact you're speaking.

"N-no." He shifts, or tries to; you're still weighting him down. But he likes the idea of staying down for this round, indulging in the freedom to let the quivers overtake him without fear of dropping you. Or dropping ONTO you.

"This - this's okay." Well. Will be, once you rearrange him, and yourself. He could focus on figuring that part out, but he's coasting and it feels gorgeous, and you're a competent, intelligent person. You can sort it out for him.

He laughs, his voice warm and a little raw, kissing you once before he just presses you back against the wall, his eyes hungry and thoughtful. Then he squirms down, curling up on the floor and pressing a forearm over your hips before he leans in and closes his mouth over the head of your cock.

He can't help making a soft sound in his throat as he feels the heat and stretch in his mouth, your flesh pressing his tongue down and his jaw wide as he sinks lower, careful to keep his teeth out of the way. He looks up at you for a moment, his eyes sharp, before he closes them and tightens his lips on you, just sucking gently and shifting his head, drawing you into his mouth by slow degrees.

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[Whoops gettin a lil srs here, sorry 'bout that, don't feel obligated to stay in srsville for long~]

[I AM A FREQUENT VISITOR TO SRSVILLE, I have an extended work visa and can stay as long as you like]

[Pretty much passing out at keys, so, will continue on the morrow <3]

[sleep well, sweet pea!]

[tagging one or two more til I pass out because I'm an addict]

[yessssssssss yay]

[and of course i keeled over right then. but i TRIED!! *^*///]

[It's cool, sleep is also important!!]

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[and of course i keeled over right then. but i TRIED!! ^///]