Part 8: link
I have a convention on Thursday. Gwen looks down at the text she’s just gotten from Arthur, and remembers his “plus-one” threat.
Oh, no.
Don’t worry, you’re safe. Not a plus-one kind of thing.
Good.
“What’s up?” Merlin leans over and peers over her shoulder.
“Arthur has a convention to go to Thursday.”
“Sounds scintillating,” Merlin says, making a face.
It’s in Dublin. I’ll be gone overnight, unfortunately.
“Poo,” Gwen says aloud at this last text.
You suck.
“Merlin, how long is Freya in New York?” she asks.
“Till Saturday,” he says.
“Want to go out Thursday?”
“Sure, all right.”
xXx
Having fun? Gwen sends Arthur a text from the club where she and Merlin are drinking silly umbrella-clad drinks at a table.
No. The dentist is funner.
Funner?
You heard me.
“Let’s send him a picture,” Merlin suggests, “come here,” he motions with his hand. Gwen fires up the camera in her phone and hits the button to flip the camera around so they can see themselves in the screen.
“Ooo, hold up your drink,” Merlin says, picking up his cup, which is brown and shaped like a Polynesian Tiki idol.
Gwen raises her glass and presses the button on the bottom that starts the flashing lights embedded inside, giggling. Then she picks up the camera and takes the shot of her and Merlin, grinning like idiots, drinks raised. She hits send.
You are not funny.
We’re having one for you. She sends back.
Where is Freya? Are they still together?
Shouldn’t u be paying attention to the latest trends in bilking injured people out of their money?
I know all those already.
Freya’s in New York till Saturday.
“Is that your girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” Arthur sighs, chuckling at the picture of her and Merlin.
“Who’s the skinny bloke?”
“Friend of hers. His girlfriend is in New York, I guess, so they went out.” Arthur puts his phone to sleep for a bit, deciding that maybe he should pay attention somewhat.
“You trust him?”
“Percival,” Arthur sighs, turning to the large man seated beside him, “of course I do. And I trust her. They work together, for pity’s sake.”
“She’s cute,” he says, deciding to shift gears.
“Here, better picture,” Arthur says, firing up his phone again. His achtergrond is a foto of her, laughing, in the corner of the elevator.
“Arthur, stop!” she gasped, clutching her stomach. Arthur had just discovered a very interesting ticklish spot, right where her thigh meets her backside, and had been torturing her for the entire ride.
“Okay, I’ll be good,” he said, holding his hands up innocently.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, smirking, narrowing her eyes at him as he approached.
“You look so beautiful right now,” he whispered suddenly, and her mouth fell open in surprise. “And that’s why… I’m going… to…” he let the sentence drop as he kissed her deeply, holding her with one arm as he dug into his pocket with the other.
Once he had her sufficiently distracted, the arm around her waist slid down and his long fingers squeezed that secret spot again, and she yelped.
“Arthur!” she shrieked again, laughing despite herself.
He was ready with the camera, capturing both the joy and the desire in her face.
“Wow,” Percival comments. “She’s really cute.”
“Hey, I know who that is,” Leon leans over from Arthur’s other side. “She works in our building.”
“She works in your building?” Percival asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Well, it’s not like she’s the bloody janitor, Percival, she works on the floor above ours.”
“So u work under her, then?” he asks, raising his eyebrow again, but in a completely different way.
Arthur is nonplussed door his old college mate’s innuendo. “Under, over, beside… whatever way she wants,” he shoots back, and both Percival and Leon have to clamp their hands over their mouths to muffle their laughter.
They’ve already been on the receiving end of several dirty looks, in fact.
“Wait,” Arthur says, “she doesn’t know if she knows who u are, Leon. Lean in, guys.”
Arthur takes a shot of the three of them, realizing he feels rather small between the two very tall men. He sends it to Gwen.
My companions for the evening. I feel like I’m watching giraffes play tennis.
I recognize the one guy, she sends back.
You should, that’s Leon. We’re going to his wedding in a couple weeks.
“Thank God,” Arthur says, standing and stretching. “That went on two hours longer than it should have. Leon, Guinevere says she does recognize you.”
“She should, I helped her pick up a bunch of papers in the lobby one day. Some idiot bumped into her, and—”
“Hang on,” Arthur says, his phone lighting up again.
He helped me pick up a bunch of folders in the lobby a few months ago. Total gentleman.
“Ah, story confirmed,” Arthur smiles, tonen Leon.
He was just telling me.
“I helped her pick up the papers and the folders and even helped her sort them back in order,” Leon explains, finishing his story. “Jerk that bumped her never even looked back.”
He was very sweet and attentive. I was a little surprised he didn’t ask me out. I guess now I know why!
Arthur chuckles at this, and shows Leon, who smiles.
Leon says he would have if he wasn’t already spoken for.
“I didn’t say that!”
“But would u have?” Arthur asks, smirking.
“Probably,” Leon mumbles, his voice small. “Come on, let’s hit the pub,” he says, grabbing Percival’s arm.
“I’m just going to go to my room,” Arthur says, looking down at the picture on his phone again.
“You’re sure?” Percival asks.
“Yeah, I’m a bit tired. See u in the morning.”
Percival smirks, and he and Leon turn to leave, but not before making various whipping noises, complete with hand gestures.
“I’m going to text Mithian!” Arthur calls after them, and Leon stops his actions abruptly.
“Thought so,” Arthur says, and heads for the lift. He texts Gwen.
Call me when u can. I’m done for the night.
“I’m ready to go,” Gwen tells Merlin, reaching for her purse.
“Arthur?” Merlin asks, a knowing grin on his face.
“Well, yes,” she answers, as if it were obvious. “And it’s only… 4:30 in the afternoon where Freya is, door the way,” she tells him pointedly.
“Ooo. Good point,” Merlin says, scurrying out behind her.
Gwen waits till she is home, cozy in bed in Arthur’s oxford t-shirt before calling him.
“Hi,” he antwoorden almost before it rings.
“You were waiting,” she says, smiling.
“Of course.”
“How’s the convention?”
“Boring as shit. How was the club?”
“Eh,” she shrugs. “More wankers than usual, it seemed.”
“Any of them try to chat u up?”
“A couple. Merlin scared them away.”
“Merlin scared them away?”
“Why is that so surprising?”
“Merlin doesn’t look like he could scare a bunny rabbit away from his sla plants.”
“I’ll tell him u zei that, Mr. McGregor.”
“Oh, ha ha,” he says. Then after a quiet moment, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I’m wearing your shirt.”
“Which one?”
“The oxford t-shirt. It’s all soft and it smells like you.”
“I’m wearing your knickers.”
“You are not!” she laughs.
“Okay, I’m not. But I do have that pair still. The one from your work party.”
“You have them with you?”
“Yes.”
“Pervert.”
“Romantic,” he corrects.
“What, are u going to sleep with them under your pillow?”
“Of course not.”
She waits for it.
“I’m going to put them inside my pants.”
And there it is, she thinks as she laughs. “Why do I have a feeling you’re serious?” she asks. He says nothing. “You’ve got them in your hand right now, don’t you?”
“Mmmmaybe…”
She sighs, shaking her head at him, but in a weird way, it is sweet.
“Do u have Skype?” he asks suddenly.
“Yes, why, do u have your laptop with?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then why are we wasting time on the phone?” she asks, whipping back the bedcovers to go grab her laptop.
“Okay, I’m up,” he says.
Gwen snorts.
“You have a dirty mind, Guinevere,” he says, laughing.
“And so do you, if u know why I laughed. What’s your Skype name?”
“ArthurPen.”
“Okay…”
Moments later she can hear the familiar musical popping sound emitting from his computer over her phone.
“Hi,” he says, his face on her screen now. She hangs up her phone, smiling at him.
“Hi, yourself. Wow, that is one ugly room,” she observes.
“I know, right? I don’t think they’ve redecorated since 1973. u look too cozy. I wish I was there with you.”
“I am quite cozy, yes. Almost perfectly so, except I’m terribly lonely.”
“I’ll make it up to u tomorrow night,” he promises.
“You’d better,” she grins. “Although, I could make use of your recent purchase…” she teases.
“Don’t u dare! Not without me!” he blusters, and she laughs. “At least for the inaugural use, anyway.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she says, settling deeper into her bed, laying on her side, setting the computer on the hoofdkussen, kussen volgende to her.
“Turn it sideways. That way it’ll look like I’m lying volgende to you.”
She tries; it won’t stay.
“Not working,” she sighs, setting the computer back. “Let me see them.”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Panties. Where are they?”
“Oh,” he says, understanding. He holds them up, then strokes the silken material against his face.
“Pervert,” she says again. So he smells them, just to drive it home, and she rolls her eyes at him and sighs.
“Dare,” he whispers.
“So it’s like that, then, hmm?” Gwen raises her eyebrows at him. “Use those,” she nods at the kledingstuk in her hand.
“Use them? For what?”
“Guess.”
His eyes widen. “And I’m the pervert?” he asks, but she can see him shuffling on his bed, presumably pulling his shorts down of off.
“Join me?” he challenges, yanking his overhemd, shirt off now as well.
“I’ll think about it,” she smirks. “Depends on how good a toon this turns out to be.”
“Take that overhemd, shirt off and it’ll be even better,” he says, his breathing a little ragged, and she knows he’s got her knickers in his hand, wrapped around his shaft, possibly starting to move.
Gwen sits up and whips his overhemd, shirt off over her head, setting it aside, leaning back on some pillows against the headboard, the Macbook in her lap.
“Much better. Now I have some motivation,” he rumbles.
She idly runs her hand down her chest, between her breasts, egging him on.
“Oohh…” he breathes.
“I want to see,” she tells him quietly.
He grunts and moves his computer, and she can see his hand on himself, the purple silk of her panties beneath it, as he strokes himself with long, measured strokes.
“Nice,” she purrs appreciatively, her fingers now finding a nipple, grazing across it, coaxing it stiffer, then pinching it lightly.
Arthur inhales sharply, watching her. “Oh, Guinevere,” he groans, his eyes glued to his screen. “Touch yourself for me,” he pleads.
“I already am,” she tells him, her hand already beneath the covers.
“Below,” he says, not understanding, thinking she’s referring to her hand on her breast.
“I… mmm… am,” she says, her head falling back momentarily.
“God, u are, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes aflame.
“Yes, Arthur,” she answers, willing her eyes back to the computer screen. “Oh…”
“I want… to see,” he repeats her request back to her, and she can see his hand gripping tighter, moving faster now.
“I’ll try,” she says, turning, setting the computer beside her and throwing the covers back. She moves to lie on her side and adjusts the screen. “How’s that?” she asks, returning her hands to her body.
“OhmyGod…” he gasps, “perfect…”
“Arthur,” she whispers throatily, her eyes traveling over his beautiful body, his hand gripping himself.
Suddenly he releases himself, tossing her panties on the bed volgende to him. “Don’t want to get… anything… on them,” he explains.
“Okay,” she says mindlessly, her own fingers circling, dipping deep inside occasionally, her other hand still pulling at her nipple, twisting it, squeezing her breast in her palm.
“Oh… I’m going to…” Arthur gasps.
“Me, too… oh…”
“Oh, good…”
“Ohhh…” he groans.
“Oh, God… Arthur…”
They gaze at each other through their computer screens for a few moments, coming down, returning to earth.
“Yech…” Arthur finally looks down and reaches for a tissue.
“Nice ass,” Gwen commentaren when he leans and turns away from her.
She pulls his t-shirt back on now and cuddles back into her bed, making a contented noise in her throat.
“That was fun,” Arthur says, grinning, pulling his shorts back on but leaving his overhemd, shirt off.
“Arthur!” she says, looking intently at the screen.
“What?” he asks, mystified.
“Did u have your socks on the whole time?”
“Um…”
Part 10: link
I have a convention on Thursday. Gwen looks down at the text she’s just gotten from Arthur, and remembers his “plus-one” threat.
Oh, no.
Don’t worry, you’re safe. Not a plus-one kind of thing.
Good.
“What’s up?” Merlin leans over and peers over her shoulder.
“Arthur has a convention to go to Thursday.”
“Sounds scintillating,” Merlin says, making a face.
It’s in Dublin. I’ll be gone overnight, unfortunately.
“Poo,” Gwen says aloud at this last text.
You suck.
“Merlin, how long is Freya in New York?” she asks.
“Till Saturday,” he says.
“Want to go out Thursday?”
“Sure, all right.”
xXx
Having fun? Gwen sends Arthur a text from the club where she and Merlin are drinking silly umbrella-clad drinks at a table.
No. The dentist is funner.
Funner?
You heard me.
“Let’s send him a picture,” Merlin suggests, “come here,” he motions with his hand. Gwen fires up the camera in her phone and hits the button to flip the camera around so they can see themselves in the screen.
“Ooo, hold up your drink,” Merlin says, picking up his cup, which is brown and shaped like a Polynesian Tiki idol.
Gwen raises her glass and presses the button on the bottom that starts the flashing lights embedded inside, giggling. Then she picks up the camera and takes the shot of her and Merlin, grinning like idiots, drinks raised. She hits send.
You are not funny.
We’re having one for you. She sends back.
Where is Freya? Are they still together?
Shouldn’t u be paying attention to the latest trends in bilking injured people out of their money?
I know all those already.
Freya’s in New York till Saturday.
“Is that your girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” Arthur sighs, chuckling at the picture of her and Merlin.
“Who’s the skinny bloke?”
“Friend of hers. His girlfriend is in New York, I guess, so they went out.” Arthur puts his phone to sleep for a bit, deciding that maybe he should pay attention somewhat.
“You trust him?”
“Percival,” Arthur sighs, turning to the large man seated beside him, “of course I do. And I trust her. They work together, for pity’s sake.”
“She’s cute,” he says, deciding to shift gears.
“Here, better picture,” Arthur says, firing up his phone again. His achtergrond is a foto of her, laughing, in the corner of the elevator.
“Arthur, stop!” she gasped, clutching her stomach. Arthur had just discovered a very interesting ticklish spot, right where her thigh meets her backside, and had been torturing her for the entire ride.
“Okay, I’ll be good,” he said, holding his hands up innocently.
“I don’t believe you,” she said, smirking, narrowing her eyes at him as he approached.
“You look so beautiful right now,” he whispered suddenly, and her mouth fell open in surprise. “And that’s why… I’m going… to…” he let the sentence drop as he kissed her deeply, holding her with one arm as he dug into his pocket with the other.
Once he had her sufficiently distracted, the arm around her waist slid down and his long fingers squeezed that secret spot again, and she yelped.
“Arthur!” she shrieked again, laughing despite herself.
He was ready with the camera, capturing both the joy and the desire in her face.
“Wow,” Percival comments. “She’s really cute.”
“Hey, I know who that is,” Leon leans over from Arthur’s other side. “She works in our building.”
“She works in your building?” Percival asks, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Well, it’s not like she’s the bloody janitor, Percival, she works on the floor above ours.”
“So u work under her, then?” he asks, raising his eyebrow again, but in a completely different way.
Arthur is nonplussed door his old college mate’s innuendo. “Under, over, beside… whatever way she wants,” he shoots back, and both Percival and Leon have to clamp their hands over their mouths to muffle their laughter.
They’ve already been on the receiving end of several dirty looks, in fact.
“Wait,” Arthur says, “she doesn’t know if she knows who u are, Leon. Lean in, guys.”
Arthur takes a shot of the three of them, realizing he feels rather small between the two very tall men. He sends it to Gwen.
My companions for the evening. I feel like I’m watching giraffes play tennis.
I recognize the one guy, she sends back.
You should, that’s Leon. We’re going to his wedding in a couple weeks.
“Thank God,” Arthur says, standing and stretching. “That went on two hours longer than it should have. Leon, Guinevere says she does recognize you.”
“She should, I helped her pick up a bunch of papers in the lobby one day. Some idiot bumped into her, and—”
“Hang on,” Arthur says, his phone lighting up again.
He helped me pick up a bunch of folders in the lobby a few months ago. Total gentleman.
“Ah, story confirmed,” Arthur smiles, tonen Leon.
He was just telling me.
“I helped her pick up the papers and the folders and even helped her sort them back in order,” Leon explains, finishing his story. “Jerk that bumped her never even looked back.”
He was very sweet and attentive. I was a little surprised he didn’t ask me out. I guess now I know why!
Arthur chuckles at this, and shows Leon, who smiles.
Leon says he would have if he wasn’t already spoken for.
“I didn’t say that!”
“But would u have?” Arthur asks, smirking.
“Probably,” Leon mumbles, his voice small. “Come on, let’s hit the pub,” he says, grabbing Percival’s arm.
“I’m just going to go to my room,” Arthur says, looking down at the picture on his phone again.
“You’re sure?” Percival asks.
“Yeah, I’m a bit tired. See u in the morning.”
Percival smirks, and he and Leon turn to leave, but not before making various whipping noises, complete with hand gestures.
“I’m going to text Mithian!” Arthur calls after them, and Leon stops his actions abruptly.
“Thought so,” Arthur says, and heads for the lift. He texts Gwen.
Call me when u can. I’m done for the night.
“I’m ready to go,” Gwen tells Merlin, reaching for her purse.
“Arthur?” Merlin asks, a knowing grin on his face.
“Well, yes,” she answers, as if it were obvious. “And it’s only… 4:30 in the afternoon where Freya is, door the way,” she tells him pointedly.
“Ooo. Good point,” Merlin says, scurrying out behind her.
Gwen waits till she is home, cozy in bed in Arthur’s oxford t-shirt before calling him.
“Hi,” he antwoorden almost before it rings.
“You were waiting,” she says, smiling.
“Of course.”
“How’s the convention?”
“Boring as shit. How was the club?”
“Eh,” she shrugs. “More wankers than usual, it seemed.”
“Any of them try to chat u up?”
“A couple. Merlin scared them away.”
“Merlin scared them away?”
“Why is that so surprising?”
“Merlin doesn’t look like he could scare a bunny rabbit away from his sla plants.”
“I’ll tell him u zei that, Mr. McGregor.”
“Oh, ha ha,” he says. Then after a quiet moment, “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. I’m wearing your shirt.”
“Which one?”
“The oxford t-shirt. It’s all soft and it smells like you.”
“I’m wearing your knickers.”
“You are not!” she laughs.
“Okay, I’m not. But I do have that pair still. The one from your work party.”
“You have them with you?”
“Yes.”
“Pervert.”
“Romantic,” he corrects.
“What, are u going to sleep with them under your pillow?”
“Of course not.”
She waits for it.
“I’m going to put them inside my pants.”
And there it is, she thinks as she laughs. “Why do I have a feeling you’re serious?” she asks. He says nothing. “You’ve got them in your hand right now, don’t you?”
“Mmmmaybe…”
She sighs, shaking her head at him, but in a weird way, it is sweet.
“Do u have Skype?” he asks suddenly.
“Yes, why, do u have your laptop with?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then why are we wasting time on the phone?” she asks, whipping back the bedcovers to go grab her laptop.
“Okay, I’m up,” he says.
Gwen snorts.
“You have a dirty mind, Guinevere,” he says, laughing.
“And so do you, if u know why I laughed. What’s your Skype name?”
“ArthurPen.”
“Okay…”
Moments later she can hear the familiar musical popping sound emitting from his computer over her phone.
“Hi,” he says, his face on her screen now. She hangs up her phone, smiling at him.
“Hi, yourself. Wow, that is one ugly room,” she observes.
“I know, right? I don’t think they’ve redecorated since 1973. u look too cozy. I wish I was there with you.”
“I am quite cozy, yes. Almost perfectly so, except I’m terribly lonely.”
“I’ll make it up to u tomorrow night,” he promises.
“You’d better,” she grins. “Although, I could make use of your recent purchase…” she teases.
“Don’t u dare! Not without me!” he blusters, and she laughs. “At least for the inaugural use, anyway.”
“I won’t, I promise,” she says, settling deeper into her bed, laying on her side, setting the computer on the hoofdkussen, kussen volgende to her.
“Turn it sideways. That way it’ll look like I’m lying volgende to you.”
She tries; it won’t stay.
“Not working,” she sighs, setting the computer back. “Let me see them.”
“What?” he asks, confused.
“Panties. Where are they?”
“Oh,” he says, understanding. He holds them up, then strokes the silken material against his face.
“Pervert,” she says again. So he smells them, just to drive it home, and she rolls her eyes at him and sighs.
“Dare,” he whispers.
“So it’s like that, then, hmm?” Gwen raises her eyebrows at him. “Use those,” she nods at the kledingstuk in her hand.
“Use them? For what?”
“Guess.”
His eyes widen. “And I’m the pervert?” he asks, but she can see him shuffling on his bed, presumably pulling his shorts down of off.
“Join me?” he challenges, yanking his overhemd, shirt off now as well.
“I’ll think about it,” she smirks. “Depends on how good a toon this turns out to be.”
“Take that overhemd, shirt off and it’ll be even better,” he says, his breathing a little ragged, and she knows he’s got her knickers in his hand, wrapped around his shaft, possibly starting to move.
Gwen sits up and whips his overhemd, shirt off over her head, setting it aside, leaning back on some pillows against the headboard, the Macbook in her lap.
“Much better. Now I have some motivation,” he rumbles.
She idly runs her hand down her chest, between her breasts, egging him on.
“Oohh…” he breathes.
“I want to see,” she tells him quietly.
He grunts and moves his computer, and she can see his hand on himself, the purple silk of her panties beneath it, as he strokes himself with long, measured strokes.
“Nice,” she purrs appreciatively, her fingers now finding a nipple, grazing across it, coaxing it stiffer, then pinching it lightly.
Arthur inhales sharply, watching her. “Oh, Guinevere,” he groans, his eyes glued to his screen. “Touch yourself for me,” he pleads.
“I already am,” she tells him, her hand already beneath the covers.
“Below,” he says, not understanding, thinking she’s referring to her hand on her breast.
“I… mmm… am,” she says, her head falling back momentarily.
“God, u are, aren’t you?” he asks, his eyes aflame.
“Yes, Arthur,” she answers, willing her eyes back to the computer screen. “Oh…”
“I want… to see,” he repeats her request back to her, and she can see his hand gripping tighter, moving faster now.
“I’ll try,” she says, turning, setting the computer beside her and throwing the covers back. She moves to lie on her side and adjusts the screen. “How’s that?” she asks, returning her hands to her body.
“OhmyGod…” he gasps, “perfect…”
“Arthur,” she whispers throatily, her eyes traveling over his beautiful body, his hand gripping himself.
Suddenly he releases himself, tossing her panties on the bed volgende to him. “Don’t want to get… anything… on them,” he explains.
“Okay,” she says mindlessly, her own fingers circling, dipping deep inside occasionally, her other hand still pulling at her nipple, twisting it, squeezing her breast in her palm.
“Oh… I’m going to…” Arthur gasps.
“Me, too… oh…”
“Oh, good…”
“Ohhh…” he groans.
“Oh, God… Arthur…”
They gaze at each other through their computer screens for a few moments, coming down, returning to earth.
“Yech…” Arthur finally looks down and reaches for a tissue.
“Nice ass,” Gwen commentaren when he leans and turns away from her.
She pulls his t-shirt back on now and cuddles back into her bed, making a contented noise in her throat.
“That was fun,” Arthur says, grinning, pulling his shorts back on but leaving his overhemd, shirt off.
“Arthur!” she says, looking intently at the screen.
“What?” he asks, mystified.
“Did u have your socks on the whole time?”
“Um…”
Part 10: link
