For OQ Prompt Party 2020

Prompts:

149. "Thou shaft impaled my opening as I let out a hearty yelp."

152. Drunk Regina and sober Robin

She's drunk.

They're on the way back to the White House after her last-ever Correspondents' Dinner as President and she is drrrrunk. Huh. That's a funny sound. Drrrrrr...

It's not her fault. Nope. No, sir. It's theirs. It's all of theirs. "Have a drink, my love." "It'll take the edge of, Ma'am." "One more wouldn't hurt, Madam President." She had knocked back six glasses of champagne by the time the speeches were over.

And now here she is, disheveled and buzzed like a college student, watching a blurry Robin offer her some water as the car rides through the streets of DC.

The closer he gets, the blurrier he is, and that is just hilarious, has her giggling as she bobs her head closer and farther, closer and farther. And then she tries to sit upright and take sips from the plastic bottle he's bringing to her lips, but it doesn't go very well.

She hears him chuckle, turns to watch his hazy head shaking fondly as he smiles at her.

"Why'reyoulaffing?" she slurs, and he snorts at that, placing the suddenly-two water bottles in the cup holder.

"You're quite adorable when you're drunk," he explains, using his thumb to wipe off the droplets of water falling down her chin.

"I am not adorable," Regina counters. "I'm the prrrrresident!"

"You are," he tells her with another chuckle, and she nods, then huddles closer to him, closing her eyes for the rest of the drive.

In what feels like no time at all, she's home, in her bed, with her husband running a hand through her hair and bringing the sheets up and over her pajama-clad body. There's a vague recollection of Robin removing her dress, but no real memory of him changing her into the lacy shorts and cami she's wearing at the moment.

Still, she's comfortable and pleasantly buzzed, and there's a shirtless Robin right next to her, propped up on his elbow and watching her.

Her limbs feel heavy, but she manages to bring up a hand to his cheek, rubbing it a little too firmly with her thumb as she giggles.

"What?" Robin asks.

"You're pretty," she answers.

Robin laughs, but settles more comfortably against her, placing his hand on her hip. It's warm and solid, and she knows he must mean it to be sweet, affectionate, but suddenly she's feeling the frustration of their interruption this morning, and she wants that hand lower.

Because she's very drunk, and very horny.

Regina hums at the pleasant touch, arching her body slowly.

"Robin," she whispers, her eyes closing.

"Yes, my love?"

"I want you to fuck me," she orders, but her words are met with another laugh.

"What's so funny about that?" she demands, opening her eyes and staring at him in annoyance. The movement is a bit too sudden, and her world spins a little, then settles.

"You're two minutes away from passing out," he remarks.

"Am not!" she replies like a petulant child, sitting up in bed and crossing her arms over her chest. Because she's not sleepy! Not entirely.

Her change in position has left him facing her chest, the tip of his nose almost touching the soft skin between her breasts, and she sees that it affects him, sees him swallow and lick his lips. She may be drunk, but she knows him. He wants her.

"Just out of curiosity..." he begins, sitting up beside her and walking his fingers up her thigh, stopping by her waistband. "How would you want it?"

Regina wastes no time in telling him, "From behind," her voice dropping when she adds, "I want your cock thrusting deep inside me until I scream."

But her dirty words do not have the desired effect on Robin. Instead, he snorts out a laugh and chides, "Such crass language, Madam President. What would Congress say?"

Regina giggles, "Fine," clears her throat and dons a horrible British accent as she says, "I would rather enjoy having thy shaft impale my opening as I let out a hearty yelp."

That has him knocking his head back, his laugh a loud, full-bellied thing that makes her smile.

"Was that supposed to be me?" he asks, amusement shining in his eyes.

"Maybe," Regina replies, and her giggling kicks back up again, shaking the bed slightly.

"You're ridiculous," Robin tells her.

"And you love me for it," she counters.

He kisses her then, long and slow and sweet, his lips sucking at her lower one, arms wrapping around her and pulling her closer. She moans his name as she presses her chest flush against his, climbing up and over to sit on his lap on the bed, her arms looping around his neck.

Robin's hands roam lower, find her ass and hold on tight as he rocks her against him, and his amusement is gone now, replaced by needy whimpers and shallow breaths as she steers away from his lips and plants kisses on his neck, settling on the crook there and breathing him in.

He smells like home, and her eyes are drooping as she inhales deeply, kissing his shoulder as she moves impossibly closer, holding onto him tighter and letting her body relax against him.

"Regina," he calls from far away, his voice a mere whisper in the vacuum that suddenly surrounds her. She feels his arms rub up and down her back now, warm and solid on her skin.

When she opens her eyes, the morning sun is peeking through the curtains, her body tucked cozily under the covers. Robin's arm is wrapped around her stomach from behind, his soft snores blowing puffs of air into the back of her neck, and she realizes she must have fallen asleep last night. While on top of her husband. In the middle of foreplay.

She's never going to live that down.

There's a couple of aspirin on her bedside table, a glass of water resting next to them, and Regina knows Robin must have set them there after she passed out.

God, she loves him.

Moving as quietly and slowly as she can, she takes the pills, grateful for the feeling of the cool water calming her dry throat. And she's so grateful to her wonderful husband that she briefly considers tearing down the Washington Monument and replacing it with a bronze statue of him.

He's still asleep, shifts onto his back when she moves to sit up on the bed, but remains undisturbed as she watches him, her hand ghosting over his naked torso now that she's removed the covers from them both.

The sight of his delectable shirtless body gives her an idea, and she smiles mischievously as she crawls down on the bed, planting sweet little kisses on him until she reaches the soft elastic waistband of his boxers. He hums, but remains asleep, and Regina fights the headache threatening to burst, busying herself with pulling that waistband down as imperceptibly as possible, until his cock is exposed to her waiting tongue.

She licks a line down his shaft at first, teasing, taking her time until she reaches the head, and then her hand is grasping the length gently, her lips sucking at the tip, flicking her tongue over it until he stirs.

"Mmm," he rasps, his eyes slowly opening to watch her, one hand traveling down and playing with her hair as he greets her, "Good morning, drunkie."

That makes her stop, letting his cock fall out of her mouth for a moment.

"Word of advice: never make fun of a woman when she's sucking you off," she admonishes, but she's smiling at him, because last night definitely was ridiculous, and she can't blame him for enjoying it.

"Noted," he agrees, chuckling a bit as he rubs at his face with one hand, the other one grasping his shaft and pumping slowly.

"But please don't stop," he begs.

"Needy, are we?" she teases.

"For you? Always." His voice has gone lower, private, delicious.

"What do you want, babe?" she asks. "Tell me."

"I want you to suck my cock, and then I want to fuck you long and hard until you come for me."

She laughs at him then, because turnabout is fair play, and chides, "Language, Mr. Locksley. What would Congress say?"

His answer is a needy I don't care, his body scooting a bit further down the bed so he can reach her, taking the hem of her cami and haphazardly pulling it up, up, up, until it is off and out of his way.

A throaty moan tumbles out of him as he watches her, licking his lips when his eyes settle on her nipples, and she can feel him practically vibrating with excitement as she settles more comfortably between his legs.

"Fuck," he rasps at the sight, and Regina cannot resist the urge to wink at him as she reaches for his cock, smirks, and bends to her task...