Chapter Text
She knew better than to answer his question when he had asked it out of the blue last week.
"Whatcha wearing to the party?" he asked, as nonchalant as if he were asking about the weather.
"Uh, probably just something easy I can build from my closet. Cowgirl, or maybe more of a sheriff type. I don't want any of the guys coming on to me with innuendos."
“Careful with that one, Kim. It’ll be as easy as asking where you keep the handcuffs.”
Kim makes a disapproving noise.
“Just trying to help you out,” he said.
“Thanks,” she said.
They had riffed on ideas back and forth until she landed on sheriff again, with modest modifications set in place to discourage the anticipatory advances.
"Glad I could help you out. I'm still deciding mine," he said, she practically heard him nodding along, innocent as anything.
Still deciding, her foot.
He absolutely decided his outfit the second she told him her plans, and he absolutely made sure to hover next to her at the most inopportune moments in the night so people would comment what a cute couples' costume they were wearing.
"Oh, like a sheriff and bandit!"
"Bet you'll be putting those handcuffs to use later."
"You guys are so cute together!"
She was so annoyed with him all night, so then how (after all the booze and the sweet talking and the night slowly winding down...) did she end up on her knees in some tiny hallway closet pushing her nose against his happy trail at 1 a.m.?
At the very least, he has his hand behind her head so every time he thrusts deeper into her mouth, he protects her head as they knock against the opposite wall. She thinks she has all of him in her mouth, just from the strain in her jaw and the fluttery gasps of air she steals when he pulls his hips back. At least she hopes so, because she's not sure she can take more. She wants him to come, fast, and finally relieve the pressure that's been growing, discontent and rowdy and hungry, in her lower belly. She wants him to groan with that choked off tail end when he's run out of air but not cum, so he pulses his hips forward while some more dribbles out from his twitching cock. Even thinking about it makes her even wetter.
Judging by his whimpers-- uncontrolled and broken up with choppy gasps of air-- he's close, he just needs a little more. So more is exactly what she'll give him. She reaches for his ass, grasping the tensed flesh tightly and pressing him against her face in hurried, sloppy tugs. Forget breathing, forget the tears pricking at her eyes. She’s sure her makeup is already ruined, but by *god* she’s going to make him come if nothing else happens tonight.
And at long last it does— the final spurts of cum dripping down her lips as he pulls out and thrusts back in again. The trailing moan and the hand that is definitely caressing the back of her head now, tugging gently at her high ponytail to gently remove his flagging cock from her mouth. It drags against her teeth.
Kim spits most of it out into a party cup some previous partygoer had forgotten to take with them. Wipes her mouth. There is surprisingly some lipstick left, now streaked onto the back of her hand.
Jimmy is mushy. He is still caressing the back of her neck, murmuring affection to her in a low, soft voice.
“…was great. Jesus, Kim, you’re so…”
And his hand is sliding down the front of her jeans, straining the hard center seam. He offers her his other arm so she can hobble to her feet, and his body is immediately pressed up against hers, his hand finding room to slink even lower to the wet fabric stuck in clear outline to her swollen pussy.
He groans, rumbly and low enough for Kim to feel it against her own chest. She throws her arms around his neck, letting him push her against the wall. His shoulder bumping hers as his arm works back and forth.
His fingers stroke gently, peeling her underwear to the side and sliding two fingertips between her slick lips. She clutches him harder with a gasp as they sink into her. It’s too easy.
He’s dirty talking her, telling her how sorry he is for making her wait. How he’s gonna make it all worth it. How hard she’s going to cum. How it’ll be for him.
She shudders, surrendering the moment to him in this dark closet with the colored lights swirling under the crack in the door.
The music isn’t particularly spooky. In fact, as it reverberates, muted, in the small space, it’s almost Christmas-y in nature. A slow jazz that is winding down the night. Jimmy follows the rhythm of the music somewhat, gentle, slow, and deep. Scissoring his fingers inside her, stroking every inch of her tight, fluttering walls.
She squeezes him once, and he croons encouragement to her, stroking faster.
She bites down on his shoulder, muffling the broken gasp that stumbles from her lips. Her face is tired, but she scrunches up her nose anyway, trying to keep her breath steady.
“Relax,” he whispers. “Don’t fight it.”
She isn’t fighting it, really. Maybe she is. She’s confused, growing increasingly uninhibited.
Just fuck me. Please, just fuck me.
“Okay, baby. Hold on.”
Jimmy’s voice is oddly intimate. It’s warm against her ear, tickles the inner eardrum. She shivers, not having realized she’d just begged him out loud.
*Hf.* A puff of hair escapes from both of them as the hand that had been holding Jimmy up disappears. He leans his full weight against her, and Kim finds it comforting. She can feel his shoulder knock against hers again as— she assumes— his fist works his cock hard again. The wet tip is hot as it bumps against her lower belly. Realizing that he really is trying to do as she asked, she shifts her hips side to side, working the waistband of her jeans over her hips and ass.
The crinkle of a condom wrapper. A glint of light hitting the metallic inner lining. The snap of rubber.
They work blindingly in the dark, sliding together like the workings of a lock. Jimmy’s knuckles brush across her clit, making her groan lightly. The thick head, wrapped in a condom, prods at her next, sliding down to slot at her entrance. She parts her legs with a whimper, hoping he can feel the motion from her frantic nodding or somehow see it with the little light they have.
However he can tell (or if he just wanted it too), he finally pushes himself in, and the pounding need in her body to have his cock in her fully ramps up to a desperation to be well and truly fucked.
Her nails dig into her shoulder, rake through his hair, and he even winces before jerking his hips forward and starting a rough rhythm.
It takes a moment for them to feel out a rhythm they can both settle on. And by the time they are breathing in harmony, it’s a steady, quick thump-thump that can probably be heard past the walls.
Jimmy fucks her into the wall, a determined set to his jaw. His eyes are closed, or so she thinks as she stares at his face. Maybe he’s staring back at her too, and the thought makes her uncomfortable, so she looks away.
She stares down, where she can see their bodies come together and pull apart. His cock, wet and gleaming with some of the light caught from under the door. It disappears again. Inside her.
She can feel the insistent rub of his cock inside her, the thrum of pleasure building up. She can feel the sticky friction of his body against her wet clit, the wetness dripping down her pussy and off her ass.
Jimmy shoves a hand under her, hoisting her a bit higher so she doesn’t slip down, and the slap of his palm against her ass makes her moan a little too loudly. He doesn’t dare do it again, but he taps at her with his fingers, eliciting lighter gasps from Kim.
He bounces her on his cock, sinking her down onto the full, thick length, sticking their thighs together, then lifting her up against the wall. Her ponytail feels like it’s coming loose.
Kim holds him closer, locking her legs behind him. They rut quietly against each other. There isn’t much sound besides the rustle of their clothes, the wet sound of thrusting, and their quiet breaths. Even the music outside has wound down.
She comes first, with a high, short intake of air. Her legs squeeze around his waist, and she stills. Only Jimmy can feel the orgasm wash over her as her cunt milks his cock with stuttered, frantic pulses.
It sends him over the edge, and he buries himself as deep inside her as he can and lets go.
They clean up as quietly as they can, grabbing their trash and clothes with blind fists. Kim manages to fix her hair. Jimmy finds his bandit mask. They do the best they can before slinking out of the closet and making a beeline for the nearest bathroom.
Before they reach the two doors marked one for *Women* and one for *Men*, they stop. Jimmy hangs back first, then Kim takes notice and stops right before putting her hand on the door.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Yes, something. What?” she prompts once more.
Jimmy hems and haws. “You… That is… What we…”
Kim stares back, a little impatient. But something about the flush in his face seems to be more than embarrassment or exertion. She waits.
“That was… you know… nice,” he finally blurts out.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Okay, anyway…”
Jimmy takes a step towards the restroom door.
“Yeah,” she nods. “It was…” A smile lifts one corner of her lips. “Nice.”
A similarly small smile lights up Jimmy’s face. He has the most infectious smile.
“Good.”
“But I don’t forgive you for letting me come to this thing as a sheriff. I’m never telling you my costume ever again.”
Jimmy grins sheepishly. “Fair enough.”