The Prescription - Chapter 1: A Trip to The Doctor
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: 1/?
AUTHOR: @missdibley
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Red Nose Day Tom (RND!Tom)
GENRE: Romance/erotica
FIC SUMMARY: I don’t know even know how to describe this.
RATING: (From beginning to end): E/18+
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Not beta’d. Nothing smutty yet.
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Feedback (re-blogs! likes! comments! questions!) are always welcome.
“That’s it?”
Dr. Ray, who was used to Carmen’s outbursts during their visits, merely nodded. He signed out of the computer where he had finished typing up the notes of their visit. “Was there something else?”
“Shouldn’t there be something else?”
“Like what?” Dr. Ray sat back in his chair and put on his most patient expression.
“You didn’t find anything wrong with me?” Carmen blinked rapidly, as if that would reveal some medical condition he had not diagnosed during her checkup.
“Your numbers look good.” He shrugged. “Bloodwork came back fine.”
“So the pandemic…” Carmen threw her hands up in the air. “Quarantine! The world in general…”
“Has had little to no discernible negative impact on your physical well-being,” Dr. Ray finished her sentence. “Despite the fact that you are, as you once confessed, addicted to Kentucky Fried Chicken.”
“Knew I should have kept that to myself.” Carmen scowled. “So there’s nothing I need?”
“Is there something that you think you need?” Dr. Ray leaned forward, peering at her in the way that made Carmen feel as though she was a child and he a disapproving grown up though she knew for a fact he was five years younger than she.
“Well,” she said slowly. “Some of my friends said they were diagnosed with a deficiency.”
Dr. Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that right?”
Carmen nodded.
“What kind of a deficiency?”
“Vitamin D,” Carmen explained.
“Vitamin D,” repeated Dr. Ray.
“On account of quarantine.” Carmen clasped her hands. “Isolation inside. Out of the sun.”
“Well, it’s not as though our ‘green and pleasant land’ is known to be sunny,” Dr. Ray mused.
“But maybe I have this deficiency, too? And if I take the vitamin I could feel so much better?”
“So you’re saying you’d like a prescription for vitamin D so you won’t be the only woman in your friend group who doesn’t have one?”
“Well, when you put it that way…”
“Fine.” Dr. Ray logged back into his computer, pulled up Carmen’s records, and with a few keystrokes had submitted the prescription to the pharmacy as promised.
“Thank you,” Carmen gushed.
Dr. Ray stood up. “And I’ll see you in three months.”
Carmen practically skipped out of his office.
She was just off the bus, about to head straight into the pharmacy and pick up her new prescription when an unfamiliar number rang her mobile. She ignored it, not wanting to deal with a spammer or a telemarketer or even worse her mother. But when the iPhone buzzed, indicating a voicemail had been left, she checked the device, reading the transcript of the message as she listened to the audio.
The recording was fuzzy, but she could make out the words “vitamin” and “out of stock” and “special order” and “overnight delivery”. This made no sense — when wouldn’t a pharmacy have a basic vitamin in stock? Should she just go buy a bottle of the over-the-counter stuff? It was Friday afternoon and did she really want to spend her Saturday waiting for a vitamin delivery that might get swiped by whoever snatches up Amazon boxes and ASOS bags? Did she have a choice?
She popped into the pharmacy anyway, picking up some diet Coke on her way to the pharmacist counter. A rather chicly dressed man helped her, nodding when she gave her name and insurance information.
“Yes, sorry about that message. We’re updating the phone system.”
“What was this about a special order?” Carmen inquired.
The chic man nodded again. “We’re out of your particular variant of Vitamin D. So while we cannot dispense it tonight, it should be delivered to your home first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Oh,” Carmen bit her bottom lip. “It’s just that I have brunch plans tomorrow and I didn’t want to wait.”
“Oh this would be an early delivery, so you aren’t likely to miss…”
“Early?”
“Any time after 7:00 am!”
“On a Saturday!”
“Well, the delivery can be left at your door.”
Carmen shook her head. “I can’t just pick it up here.”
He shook his head. “Afraid not.”
Carmen let her shoulders sag. “I’ll just get up early tomorrow.”
“Wonderful,” the man said in a soothing sort of way. “Care to confirm that delivery address for me?”
It made no sense, Carmen thought as she started her bedtime routine that night. She showered, applied layers of various serums to her face, neck, and chest, and got into bed.
She never thought of herself as healthy, after a lifetime of being overweight and being told by friends and family and most doctors that she needed not to be. Then she moved to London (technically for a job transfer but in reality to get away from those friends and family) and the job paid for private insurance which led her to Dr. Ray’s fancy but not super luxurious practice. It seemed his philosophy was everything in moderation including junk food and otherwise didn’t seem to care that she was 50 pounds overweight, 42 and unmarried and the only time she was sexually active was when she remembered to plug in her vibrator. Why should he when she was otherwise fine?
Carmen wondered if maybe the vitamin D he had prescribed was actually a placebo but if that was the case then why the special order? Maybe she had too much of a tendency to trust Dr. Ray because he was the first doctor to see her as a person and a patient instead of a predicament or a problem. Maybe she was projecting but before she finished that train of thought Carmen fell asleep.
She woke up at 7:02 am. Peed, washed her hands, brushed her teeth. She wiped toothpaste splatters off the mirrors and poked at her face. Sparse eyebrows, dark eyes with baby lashes, freckles, round cheeks that weren’t sagging yet thank goodness, and an impossible double chin. The bangs were growing out, which was just as well as they refused to wave as prettily as the rest of her hair.
Carmen was about to get in the shower when the bell rang. Squealing with delight, she ran down to the front door and hit the buzzer. Her mother would have yelled at her for not pausing to ask who was at the gate to the mews where her charming (if incredibly expensive) flat was located. What if it was the 2021 version of Jack The Ripper? What if it was a kidnapper? What if it was someone selling magazines?
Carmen pressed the buzzer again for good measure, then opened the door and stepped out into the cobblestone lane. She was still in her pajamas and socks, and she could feel the bumps under her feet as she shuffled to the gate. There was a little door in the gate, with a mail slot big enough for envelopes and some slim parcels. The door would have to be opened for a box, hence the buzzing.
But what greeted Carmen was not a box. It wasn’t a bag or a barrel. It, or rather, he, was a man. A tall man with gingery hair and a beard, wearing a slim fitting dark t-shirt with skinny jeans, polished boots, and spectacles. At his feet was a black duffel bag. He had a high brow and glasses and a nice beard (full but not thick) and when Carmen paused, he took a few tentative steps forward and held an envelope out to her.
“Carmen DiGregorio?” His voice was soft as fur, and warm as melted butter. “I’m Tom.”
“Oh.” Carmen took the envelope, which wasn’t sealed as it had a thick sheaf of papers in it. “Do you have my prescription? Do I sign these papers?”
Tom shook his head and smiled. “Erm, no.”
“Well, what is this?” Carmen asked.
“It’s me.” Tom smiled, and the radiance of his smile, the kindness of his eyes, and the subtle flex of his muscles made Carmen feel warm all over. “I’m your prescription.”
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: one-shot
AUTHOR: @missdibley
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Red Nose Day Tom (RND!Tom)
GENRE: Romance/erotica
FIC SUMMARY: Tom has some boots and occasionally he likes wearing them.
RATING: (From beginning to end): E/18+
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Not beta’d. Manual sex (vaginal fingering) and intercourse. Kissing.
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Feedback (re-blogs! likes! comments! questions!) are always welcome.
previously: The Return
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“Is that what you’re wearing?”
Tom looked up from the dog, who was dancing excitedly at the door, to find his wife looking at him from across the room. Head tilted one way while her lips tugged up in a little smile in the other direction. Sitting on the couch, her usual spot after putting the babies down for their nap.
“What’s wrong with it?” Tom frowned.
“Who said there’s anything wrong with it?”
“I’m just taking Bobby out for a ramble,” Tom reminded her. “This is my usual dog rambling outfit.”
“I know.” Carmen schooled her face into a placid expression. “Except for…”
“... the boots,” Tom finished.
“The boots.” Carmen bit her bottom lip, more in thought than in suppressing laughter.
“It’s muddy.”
“Where?”
“The park,” Tom explained. “By the ponds, and then as you climb up the hill.”
“On the paths?” Carmen wondered.
Tom shook his head. “We like to muck about in the woods. A bit more secluded.”
“More mucky.”
“Yes, love.”
“But how mucky?” Carmen stared at his knees. “Those boots are kinda high.”
“Rather be safe.”
“Lest you get mud on your leggings,” Carmen mused.
“Erm, yes.”
“And not on your actual legs.”
“Car…”
“I think the socks are a nice touch,” Carmen said sweetly.
“Shuddup,” Tom muttered, finally turning to the door to go.
“Those boots are made for mucking,” Carmen sang as Tom and Bobby stomped out the door. “And that’s just what they’ll do!”
She was still on the couch when Tom and Bobby returned. An hour where she booked a photo session for Iris’s first birthday, and Billy’s second. Exchanged a few texts with her best friend, Annie, and tried to Facetime with her own mother in the Philippines.
Carmen was all set to resume her loving teasing of Tom until she saw the look on his face. It wasn’t grumpy anymore but flat. Sort of resigned. She recognized that look, and sighed.
“Vultures?” She murmured.
“Vulture. Singular.” Tom undid the dog’s lead, from around his waist, and hung it from the hook by the door. He smiled at Bobby, who scampered into the kitchen where a bowl of fresh water would be waiting for him.
“Asshole,” Carmen said. “Wanna talk about it?”
Tom shook his head. “What is there to talk about?”
“You okay?”
Tom shrugged.
“That doesn’t look…” Carmen began to say.
“At least the kids weren’t with me,” Tom interrupted, though Carmen didn’t mind. He realized he was still wearing his masks, and peeled them off.
Tom’s face, when revealed, looked shiny and damp. He dropped the masks into a small laundry basket which was full of others waiting to be washed. Tom grabbed the basket, and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “I’m gonna throw these in.”
Carmen yawned. “Sorry.”
Tom walked towards the couch, walking behind it so he could lean against the back and look down at her. “Whatever for?”
“The boot thing.” Carmen smiled up at him. “I’m just jealous of your legs.”
“Oh yeah?” Tom grinned.
“Ridiculous,” Carmen said. “Supermodel legs.”
“Stop it!”
“You need help pulling them off?”
“I’ll be fine.” Tom shook his head. “Kids still napping?”
Carmen nodded.
“I’m going to grab a shower, then.”
“Wash those vultures right out of your hair?”
“Whatever’s left of it,” Tom quipped.
“I’m sorry, was this a pity party and nobody invited me?” Carmen joked.
“Yes!” Tom turned to the kitchen, stopping to turn when he felt Carmen swat at his bum.
Carmen fiddled on her laptop while Tom started the laundry. Poured himself a glass of water. Pulled his boots, which actually were quite muddy, and carried them upstairs.
“I’m going to rinse them off in the bath,” he explained, which made no sense if you thought about it — why not hose them off in the garden? — but Carmen didn’t think about it. She was still stuck on Tom, who was goofy and more vulnerable than anybody would guess. Carmen considered how he could still be startled by a seemingly random photographer who was lucky enough to catch Tom off-duty. Wearing his shabby but cherished dog-walking uniform. Masked up, trudging up to the hill in his ridiculous but beloved boots.
And then Carmen was overwhelmed by a wave of tenderness and affection. An impulse to protect him and his eccentricities. To fight anybody who would judge him. A typical Aries response, she thought to herself with a chuckle.
She checked her phone and slipped it into her pocket. Went upstairs and found the kids still napping. She worried they were unwell, because of the longer than usual nap, and crept in to touch the back of her hand to their foreheads. Both were cool to the touch, clutching stuffed animals in their respective cribs. She knew she ought to cherish the quiet, but she missed them while they slept.
Carmen didn’t hear the shower, and expected to find Tom lounging in bed, with his freshly washed hair getting the pillowcases wet. Maybe still sipping that glass of water, in a clean t-shirt and sweatpants and waiting to talk to her about whatever household things needed to be discussed. Maybe they’d snuggle a little until the children got up from their naps.
Instead she found Tom sitting at the foot of the bed. Naked but for those boots, which were still on his feet. One leg crossed over the other, then an elbow propped on one knee, arm bent so he could support his stubborn chin with a soft fist.
The look on Tom’s face was now expectant, perhaps even impatient. His eyes swept up and down Carmen as she closed the door behind her and took a few steps toward him.
“Good shower?” She tugged her sweatshirt off and now stood topless before him. She chucked the sweatshirt on an armchair that already held a set of discarded pajamas. “You leave me any hot water?”
Tom shook his head. “Changed my mind about the shower.”
“To prance about our bedroom in nothing but your boots and your birthday suit?” Carmen snorted.
“I think you rather like these boots,” Tom replied with a smirk. He uncrossed his legs, planting his feet on the carpet.
Carmen stuck her thumbs under the elastic waistband of her legging, and pushed them down, bending over so she could step out of them. When she righted herself, she felt blood rushing from her head. She took one step, then another, then let Tom pull her into his lap as soon as she was within reach.
She straddled him, shivering at the touch of his thighs under hears. She felt his cock bobbing against her bare ass, and she laughed. She wanted to hold Tom, pull him close and breathe him in. The sweat from his vigorous walk with the dog, and the natural scent of his skin underneath. The musk that rose from his armpits, which should have turned her off but instead intoxicated her. Her breath, bitter from coffee but still clean. Must be all that water he drank, she mused, and then he was kissing her.
He’d caught a lock of her hair in his hand, and tugged. Gently, so her neck was exposed so he sucked on that first. Carmen’s laughter was soft now, coming in gasps and whines. Her hands found his shoulders, and she dug her nails into the lean muscle. And when she did, Tom tugged harder, but down now so her mouth met his.
Carmen sucked on his tongue, and when she did it felt like his cock was moving in time with it. She could feel how wet she was by the cool air on cunt, and then when Tom slid a hand between them to toy with her clit. He liked a gentle stroke, circling the bud with the tip of his finger while his kisses grew deeper. And when he played her, stroking her faster, Carmen resumed her laughter and she was wriggling. Too much for his kisses, and too much for him to keep her in one place so she fell, out of his lap and then onto the soft floor where she lay giggling and waiting for him to join her.
Now it was Tom’s turn to straddle her, kneeling astride her thighs, cock hard and dark and almost nearly upright against his abdomen. But rather than hitch her leg up, take himself in hand and enter her, slowly but surely the way he liked these days, Tom brought his hands up just in front of her armpits and wiggled his fingers.
“No!” Carmen protested but it was no use. Tom tickled her, under her arms and then at her belly. He blew a raspberry into her left hip as he went for the backs of her knees. She kicked at him, not hard but well enough that her legs spread wide enough for Tom to pounce. He caged her in, like he knew she loved. He panted and laughed in her ear.
“Button, you are going to be the death of me,” he sighed.
“I know,” Carmen said, and kissed him.
A proper snog, and a slow one. Though Tom’s cock was hard and insistent, she took her time to be tender and sweet. She considered the brightness of his eyes, as Tom opened them whenever she broke the kiss, even for a moment. Then Carmen took him in her arms, or rather slipped her hands up and around to clasp behind his back. Pull him down to her as she spread her legs, and felt the weight of his cock as it seemed to find the warmth of her sex.
Carmen watched Tom’s face as he leaned on one hand while the other fumbled for his cock. She loved to watch his face when they connected, and he began to push. She hated to look away but it was hard to keep her eyes open when he felt so good, so solid and big and hot, inside her.
Tom let his head drop, his forehead pressed to her temple, and rolled his hips. His knees were digging into the carpet, sliding as he began to pump in earnest. The boots were hot and his feet were beginning to cramp but the discomfort was soon forgotten as soon as the sound of his wife’s moans and pants filled the room. Besides, they were no strangers to the floor. This one, or the many floors they’ve christened similarly over the years.
Still, though, it seemed silly when there was a perfectly good bed right there.
Next time, then.
When Tom felt her legs come up and wrap around him just above his hips, he lowered himself further so now she bore his weight. Took his cock inside and squeezed, making it so much more pleasurable to keep pumping away. His movements were smaller but more erratic. Quicker. Harder. They whined together, between sloppy wet kisses, between declarations of love and demands for more. Tom thought he heard the squeak of floorboards beneath the soft carpet, a strange thought to pop into his mind even as it cleared of other things to focus solely on the act of fucking.
Which was then followed by the reward of coming. Which always left Tom feeling triumphant, and then grateful. Even more when they came at the same time, which didn’t happen as much as he would have liked. A shame, as he did like it when they did things together.
“So would you say…” Tom said into the soft flesh of Carmen’s shoulder.
“I wouldn’t say the Hunters are a turn-off,” Carmen said. “But there are sexier boots.”
“Hmm.”
“I imagine they’re not very flexible.”
“They’re not.” Tom lifted his head and looked at Carmen’s face, admiring her pink cheeks. He nuzzled one. “I’m gonna need your help pulling them off.”
“Maybe next time you can wear riding boots.”
“Got it.”
“And next time…” Carmen peered down at their intertwined legs. “Skip the damn socks.”
”Happens All The Time” will update shortly (like in the next two weeks) because: 1. it’s been three years since the last time; 2. in those three years I’ve been to Italy twice so that will figure into the story; 3. in those three years I’ve gotten cancer once so that will figure into the story
And yes I know this quote is from La Dolce Vita, but if there was anyone I could imagine borrowing this, it would be Oakley.
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: one-shot
AUTHOR: @missdibley
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Red Nose Day Tom (RND!Tom)
GENRE: Romance/erotica
FIC SUMMARY: Tom’s newly back after a few weeks in London without Carmen. Based on him being sighted in London in September (so long ago!) and also him being in Atlanta.
RATING: (From beginning to end): M/18+
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Not beta’d. Oral sex and intercourse. This is, for the time being, a Zawe-less and raisin-less universe.
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Feedback (re-blogs! likes! comments! questions!) are always welcome.
previously: I have absolutely no idea but I will update this as soon as I remember.
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September. 2020.
Carmen sat on the floor of a hotel suite in Atlanta, watching her 18 month old son sleep next to her five month old daughter. They were curled up together in the boy’s crib, where the two of them had been watching the rain fall outside.
Carmen wanted to crawl right in with them but there was laundry to do. Things to go over with the house in London. Calls to a realtor in Chicago because why not buy a condo in the Middle West in the middle of a global pandemic? It’s not like Carmen’s mother needed her at home — Pilar was stuck in the Philippines, looking after her own elderly parents.
But Annie. Oh Annie! Annie and Aaron and Heidi and Doron were in Oak Park. They could form such a lovely quarantine bubble. The two families (Carmen checked Zillow to see if anything was for sale on Annie and Aaron’s block) having family suppers every night, selling lemonade to raise money for first responders, Annie and Aaron’s beagle mix and Bobby having two connected yards to play and poop in, and then…
Carmen’s phone buzzed. A text.
here
Carmen scooped up her baby daughter before placing the little one in her own crib.
She drew the curtain, made sure her son had his blanket. Shut the door behind her.
She walked through the comfortable if bland penthouse where they had been living, registered under the name Ebert, and opened the door.
Carmen barely managed to say “Baby” in a tender sort of way before her husband Tom engulfed her in his arms.
They saved their reunion for after.
After Tom had taken a hot shower, a brief one for Bobby had whined at him from his spot on the bathroom floor. Tom was allowed to towel off and slip into sweats.
After the children had woken from their nap to find it still raining but their father, their Papa, was waiting to snuggle them. Feed them dinner. Give them baths, first the baby girl and then the little boy. Reading them books and then watching their eyes flutter shut. Tucking them in and watching them because what was more soothing than watching your babies sleep.
Tom could have fallen to the floor and slept right there. It was dark now, which meant he could sleep off his jet lag. Sleep off the last few weeks back in London, where he had meetings and a work visa to renew. One would have thought that to be back in England, without wife and babies and dog, was akin to being a bachelor. Footloose and fancy-free.
Except for the pandemic, and the precautions. Masks and gloves. Two metres apart. Less people on the Tube and the buses. Tom took the bike out a few times, up to the park and once along the canal. Everything was where they had left it.
But he felt a little… Not really lost. Rudderless, perhaps. Lacking a little direction.
It was a cliche, but it was true, as Tom went about his business.
Home was where they were.
After that initial embrace, Tom and Carmen hadn’t interacted much. She left the kids to him while she ignored the laundry in favor of taking Bobby out around the block. Texted a bunch of house listings from Zillow to Annie, who promptly replied “Why are you texting me? Isn’t Tom home? Shouldn’t you be getting ready to boom chick-a-wow-wow?” This was followed by a bunch of eggplant and Union Jack emojis.
Carmen didn’t dignify that with a response.
Tom caught up with her in their bedroom, him yawning and making noise about finding his toothbrush. She was muttering at her phone, fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, her hair falling in damp waves to her shoulders. When he stopped speaking, Carmen looked up to find him looking at her but not speaking. She frowned.
“What?”
Tom leapt at her.
Pounced, actually.
Phone flying, Carmen fell back and bounced a little on the mattress. Her towel fell open and all of a sudden there was Tom kneeling on the floor, nuzzling her inner thighs and then mouthing at her pussy while she tried to catch her breath.
Attempted to catch her breath, anyway, for as soon as she breathed deeply once and then again she felt the familiar flick of his tongue. Edging around her clit before his lips closed around it to suck. She felt Tom’s hands move her legs into his preferred position — the left one folded in such a way so her foot was planted on the edge of bed while the right was held apart and she could feel the toes of that foot bush against the carpet. She felt his arms slide up under her thighs so he could hold her open, his broad shoulders nudging at the insides of her knees. Fingertips digging into soft flesh.
Tom’s tongue swept rapidly over and then beneath her clit, his fingers gently tracing up and down her labia. When one of his knuckles brushed over her anus, Carmen giggled. She could barely lift her head to look at him, but she knew what he looked like. A few days’ growth on his face that tickled her thighs, and lanky hair (dyed black for work) that fell in waves, and bounced the closer he pressed his face between her legs. Dark glittering eyes that hardly closed, even as he sucked harder and licked deeper with a ravenous, rambling tongue.
Carmen’s back spasmed, arched as he worked faster. Almost like she was trying to escape his clutches but who would be foolish enough to deny themselves the pleasure of him? Ridiculous, but Tom still managed to wrangle one hand so it pressed itself against her soft belly, and the other, still gripping at her thigh, pulled her down the bed so her ass was hanging off the edge. But still she remained on the bed, and did not follow Tom to the floor. Something about being pulled that way, abrupt if not exactly rough, made Carmen feel as though she were being pulled underwater. It was like drowning only instead of being deprived of air she was instead made full by Tom.
Ever the supplicant, ardent and adoring, Tom fucked her with the pointed tip of his stiff tongue while his index and middle fingers formed a v around her pulsing clit. Faster they went, slippery and slick, over and around. His elegant nose pressed into the apex of her mound, Tom snorted. The scent and the taste of her. Tom gulped. He was drowning, too.
His dick was hard but it wasn’t time. Not yet. He had to… she had to… and then she did. Carmen came, screaming into the cup of his hand that had come up to silence her. Touch her lips even as they parted in gasps and whispers.
She shivered on a bed covered with expensive linens and a weighted blanket but Carmen didn’t reach for them. Not when Tom rose to his feet and shed his clothes. Standing there naked, his cock hard and dark, he breathed deeply and well. He knelt, one knee on the mattress between her legs, and used his considerable strength to move her up the bed with him. She was wet, could still feel it cooling on her skin but when she felt the tops of his thighs under hers as she split her again, she sobbed a little. Out of relief, and anticipation.
“Button,” Tom whispered, and she took him in hand. Put her small hand on top of his large one, which was wrapped around his cock. Just below the head, and when she felt him rub the tip against her clit inwardly she cursed him. She could only whimper, try not to beg. Such agony to be so close, but he wouldn’t fill her, not yet. Not when the opportunity to torture her in such an exquisite way was there to be taken. She felt him again, guiding his cock below her clit and then just inside her. Carmen held her breath while he released his.
Everything was still. Tom was heavy, pressing down on her and god it felt good. He felt good. He always did.
There was a hitch, and then he began to roll his hips. Pressing inside and slightly up, Carmen’s angled so he was already hitting that spot. Gently so she wasn’t shocked into climax, but he was insistent. Tom’s arms slid around her so he could hold Carmen close. He couldn’t kiss her, not when he was so tall and she was small beneath him but he licked at the top of her ear. He breathed, murmuring nothing more than her name and words. Words that were filthy and tender. Then there were sounds when Tom’s words failed him. Inevitable when the brain gave way to the heart gave way to the cock and there was nothing between them. Not anymore. Together, and whole.
The muscles worked, tightened and tensed as he fucked her harder. Held Carmen close and bore the waves that wracked her body once again. She barely had enough space to reach for her own clit but she managed. She wanted to come first, and fast, because when Tom came it was so hard and urgent and to feel his pulse in her cunt and his cum fill her and his desperate cries in her ears made Carmen feel like a perfect animal of desire.
Tom hugged her, and sighed. While he slid down and out of her, he didn’t abandon her warm and sticky body. He draped himself along her right side, and pressed his face into the crook of her neck. Sometimes he wished he could live there, just in that nook, for the rest of his life.
“Miss me?”
“I missed this.”
“It’s only been two weeks.”
“Ages.”
“And it’s not like you have to quarantine anymore.”
“It was no fun.”
“Two weeks of bachelor shenanigans? Really?”
“Whatever do you mean by bachelor shenanigans?”
“Dunno — hit up some gross bars in Camden.”
“All shut down.”
“Look up some of your old girlfriends.”
“Pretty sure one of them is a committed anti-masker…”
“Oooh, so you did check?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
“Wasted opportunity, sporty. London all to yourself without your shrew of a wife…”
“Hey!”
“Your mangy dog…”
“Bobby would be so offended if he heard you say that.”
“Your wee brats.”
“You mean the two most perfect and beloved children in the world?”
“I still don’t know we got them to sleep through the night so quickly.”
“Maybe it’s genetics.”
“But we’re both night owls.”
“Are we?”
“Maybe it’s the whiskey I put in their bottles.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s scotch, actually, in honor of your heritage.”
“That’s better.”
“Shower again?’
“We can’t just fall asleep like this?”
“Naked and covered in sweat and your stuff and my stuff and, worst of all, on top of these very fancy sheets?”
“I see your point.”
“We’re not in our twenties anymore, bub.”
“Could you imagine us together in our twenties?”
“The stuff of fan fiction.”
“Oh god…”
“I’ll start the shower? You wanna strip the duvet off the bed? I think the sheets are okay.”
I’m at the point of writing this fic where all I’ve got to do is write the smut. Which is always the hardest, most annoying part because I don’t want to repeat myself or make it seem unsexy or impossible or just plain silly.
I’m tempted to borrow a phrase from my friends in academia who, when they were working on their dissertations would say they were “ABD” -- All But Dissertation.
Only I’m writing smutty fan fiction so I’m ABD -- All But Dick.
Anyway, I hope to post something tomorrow (Tuesday).
I am okay! I’m starting a job in two weeks! I am catching up on cleaning my apartment (a necessity as I will need to set up a home office for the aforesaid new job). Thank you for asking.
But who cares about me (just kidding) - how is Carmen doing? We’ll find out soon enough. A tease is below.
it’s hot as balls today so i’m gonna stay inside and write (it’s been a while) and while i do please enjoy this lovely picture of Tom and Carmen, which I commissioned from the awesome @boltplumart
I'm so happy you're back! A bit of a greedy ask: Are there any plans to revisit Oakley + Helen? I'm only just a little bit desperate to see what happens especially since I think you said there could be a happy ending. I really like your new story but just wanted to ask.
Hi There! I'm sorry if this sounds odd and wrong, but you write smut so well. Not only is the writing super saucy, but I feel their passion and genuine care for each other. It's not just a thrill, it feels real. Thank you for sharing smut with the feels :) I've actually heard Zawe is really genuine and nice in real life but it is an AU so fair enough :) looking forward to reading more.
Are you back? Like for real? :) Is the new series the new way forward to Tom and Carmen? or will we meet them again in other series?
Hello! Yes, I am back. Slowly and sometimes surely, I am back. This new story, Ruddigore, is a one-off. I’m going to return to the Red Nose Diaries for real, and probably go all the way back to the fall of 2018 where last I left them (right around when I got sick).
At present, T & C as I know them are in quarantine in ATL, with a puppy, a toddler, and a newborn. With any luck, we’ll be caught up by early 2021?
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