The Snack

By: Rhyming Chick

 

She stretches her arm out beside her trying to work out the cramp that sleeping partly on top of it has caused. A sigh escapes her lips as the movement relieves some of the uncomfortable feeling she has. The soothed aura only lasts a moment as she realises something. She's directly touching the mattress. She should not be directly touching the mattress. In fact, there should be a large lump of Justin Timberlake right there to stop her arm before it collides with the bed. Her eyes squint open though she knows by the way only darkness enters the room in the window and the fact that her man has the entire week off - for once - that there is absolutely no reason he should be out of bed at this time of the night.

 

2:46 a.m. or that's what the clock says anyway. She groans, rolling onto her back. There are two options in this situation: one, she stays in bed and waits for him to reappear from wherever he's disappeared to or two, she gets up off her back and goes looking for him. Neither of the options is appealing, the bed feeling too empty without him and her eyes already drooping over with sleep. Finally, she decides that the latter option is the lesser of two evils.

 

As she pads down the hall, peeking her head in every room on her way to see if he might be in one of them for some unexplainable reason, she wonders why she should be so tired when Justin was so exhausted from his insane schedule that he had collapsed on the bed and fell asleep the second they arrived home, she, quickly following in suit. Then she remembers that like a five-year-old she'd been unable to sleep simply because she knew she would see him the next day. It was like waiting for Santa Clause except that Laney was sure she wouldn't be disappointed.

 

By the time she reaches the staircase, she no longer wonders where Justin is. She can clearly hear him humming to himself - does he ever get tired of music - as he moves around the kitchen. She reaches the room, but doesn't enter, leaning against the doorway instead as she watches him make himself a sandwich, as he dances along to the beat he's creating. He spins quickly a three-sixty turn as he slams the top slice of bread over his concoction, and that's when he notices her. She fights away the laugh because he's already blushing and it's too cute to embarrass him too much and then never run the chance of seeing an encore performance.

 

"Hey," he whispers, trying to play off his embarrassment, "what are you doing up?"

 

"Looking for you to ask you the same thing," she answers, as she nears him and places a quick kiss on her cheek.

 

"I woke up and realised I hadn't eaten since like nine a.m. or something. Snack." He shows her the sandwich in case she hadn't seen it. "Did I wake you up?"

 

"Not exactly," she answers, and even though he has the sandwich in his mouth at the moment, she can still understand the question he wants to ask. "I think I woke up cause you weren't there."

 

"I haven't been there for two months baby," he mumbles as he tries to work the peanut butter off the roof of his mouth.

 

"I know, but now I knew you were supposed to be there and you weren't. It woke me up." She shrugs her shoulders, now embarrassed because of how ridiculous her statement sounds after his truthful fact. Justin doesn't seem to mind though, as he kisses her nose and holds the sandwich up to her lips, offering her a bite. She prefers her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches toasted, but she isn't about to make her own, therefore accepts a bite of his despite the fact the bread is fresh out of the loaf.

 

"Well, we can go back up in a few seconds. I just want to finish this here so I don't get the sheets all sticky or anything," he tells her before taking another huge bite of the snack.

 

"You are so anal," she whispers more to herself than to him as she turns to get some water from the refrigerator.

 

"Is that an invitation?" he quips, slapping her butt once her back is to him.

 

"We talked about this," she tells him, all humour leaving her voice, "I said no."

 

"I know baby, I was just kidding," he whispers as he wraps his arms around her. He turns her so she faces him, the water pitcher awkward in her hand as she tries not to spill any of its content. "That doesn't mean you don't have a fine ass."

 

His hands travel along her body until he can firmly grab her butt. He engulfs her mouth with his own as it opens to protest.

 

"Right back at you," she whispers to him, dipping her hips against his before she moves away. Automatically, he follows her, pressing himself against her as she reaches up for a glass of water.

 

"Do you realise," he asks, reaching over her head to grab the glass she isn't quite tall enough to touch, "that I've been here for almost an entire day, and I've barely gotten to hold you at all?"

 

His arms wrap around her from behind as he finishes the sentence and his head dives into her hair where he can relish in the smell of her. She thinks that the moment asks for some sort of witty comment about that being his own lazy ass' fault or about the fact that his stomach seems to come first, but all witty thoughts escape her mind as one of Justin's hands creep down from its position on her stomach and slips inside the front of her pyjama bottoms. Instead, she can only let out a soft moan, anticipating where that hand will reach next.

 

"Do you realise how long it's been since I've touched you like I want to?" he asks this time, and his voice has gone down a few decibels, his warm breath spreading against her hair and sending a shiver down her spine. The hand that's still on her stomach starts a journey up her body to a different goal. She is now so concentrated on the hand moving up her body, that she forgets about the one that's moving down her body. At least she forgets about it until it reaches her inner thigh and starts stroking the skin there.

 

"Do you realise how long it's been since I've been able to chastise you for not wearing underwear?" he whispers in her ear as he relates the discovery of his hand's journey. He removes his hand which had reached her rib cage to lightly swat her butt a few times, making her buck forward toward the other hand. "Fuckin' turning me on like you wouldn't believe. Getting me hard even in my sleep."

 

He forgets about the slow route his left hand was taking and simply lets it fall directly on her breast, giving her a gentle squeeze. Again, her body reacts by bucking forward where his right hand takes advantage of the movement and reaches between her thighs. He massages the mass in his left hand while the other softly pets the part of her body that she only allows him access to.

 

"So fucking wet," he mumbles to himself, lost in the flesh between his strong hands. "Does it do something to you to baby? Knowing you're inches away from me with barely anything keeping me out?"

 

She can't think of anything to answer, and really wouldn't be able to answer anything as a moan of pleasure leaves her mouth. The simple sound drives Justin just that bit crazier and he holds her a little tighter, letting one of his fingers slip into her. This time they both groan.

 

"Arms up girl," he tells her, and she obeys though she doesn't understand why until the shirt is over her head and on the floor.

 

Quickly, he turns her around so her lower back is leaning against the counter and she can look directly at him. Somehow, he managed the movement without extracting his finger from its warm nest, and when he's certain that she's firmly leaning against the counter, he adds a second digit.

 

Laney moves to press against him, but his left hand against her chest holds her back, massaging with more vigour her flesh. His head bends down and instead of the kiss she's expecting, he finds her left nipple and starts sucking like his life depended on it, only stopping on the very rare occasion to swipe at the nub with his tongue. She can barely stand the contact and her head tilts back though she wishes she could watch him and the way he so easily manipulates her body.

 

"Don't fall asleep on me," he mumbles as his mouth moves up until he's nibbling her neck and another finger dips into her body.

 

"Not a chance," she answers, tilting her head back up. She realises that she doesn't need to support herself with her hands since her back is resting against the counter, and reaches down to the hem of Justin's shirt. Laney can feel him take in a quick breath when her cold hands make contact with the skin that had previously been sheltered by his wifebeater.

 

"Take it off," she urges as she herself can't seem to control her arms enough to get the action done. Justin slips his hand out of her pants - eliciting a whine of dissatisfaction from Laney - and swipes the garment over his head. His hands reach for her again, and with one swift motion, her pyjama pants pool around her ankles. Justin's hands grab onto her hips again and lift her off the ground until she is sitting on the counter.

 

"Right there," he mumbles to himself as his right hand reaches down again to continue its earlier ministrations. Laney moans at the contact.

 

"This is not hygienic," she tells him, but already her hands are fumbling with his boxers until they're off his hips and no longer any kind of barrier.

 

Her right hand wraps around his member, already pumping him to the same pulse his fingers are driving in and out of her. Her left hand grips his hip, trying to coax him to move with the rhythm they are setting for each other. His lips land on hers and before she knows quite

 

what's happening, he's in her and their hips are pushing one against the other. Justin moves away from her so his mouth can explore the skin of her jaw, her neck, her ear . . . and Laney has to bite her lower lip to keep from waking the neighbourhood at such an hour. It's been so long and she'd been so good waiting for him because she knew it would be this intense when he did finally return to her.

 

Justin's hand reaches under her, until he has a firm hold of her ass and he pushes her harder against him, rocking her harder than she would be able to by herself. Her arms wrap around him, tangling in his hair and gripping at him, fingernails tearing the skin of his shoulders. Justin doesn't seem to mind, and he himself can't help but bite a little harder than usual at the skin of her shoulder when he reaches deeper inside of her and touches a spot that makes her walls contract once around him.

 

Their bodies move faster and faster against each other until both are sure that holding out much longer is not an option.

 

"Laney, I can't . . . " Justin loses his words as he swallows hard, trying to keep the explosion building in his body from prematurely erupting. Laney knows exactly what he is trying to tell her and wraps her legs around his torso, pulling him even closer and harder into her.

 

"Neither can I," she gasps, and in some unspoken agreement, they explode together.

 

By the time Justin remembers where he is, his heartbeat is almost pulsing to a regular rhythm, and Laney is leaned against the wall, with his head pillowed on her breasts. He peels himself away from her. He pulls her to him, and their foreheads connect gently, so every breath they breathe is mingled between their mouths.

 

"Shit baby, that was . . . " he searches for the words, but fails to find anything accurate for the moment.

 

"Delicious," she supplies teasingly as she notices the room around them.

 

"Something like that," he chuckles. He brushes her matted hair away from her sweaty face.

 

"So much for not getting anything sticky."

 

"Um . . . " he answers for lack of a better answer.

 

"I guess that just means we'll have to shower," she continues.

 

"I guess," he concedes, not really caring at the moment as long as she's in his arms.

 

"Together," she finishes, to make sure he gets the picture. Before Justin can react, she smacks him on the butt and hops off the counter, exiting the room still fully naked. Justin is not far behind.

 

The End

 

Tell Rhyming Chick what you thought of this story!