Hey, how's it going. I wanted to write some smut… So I'm doing that. Don't expect this to get updated regularly. I'll write it when I feel like it. Which may be regularly, but probably not. I may pick this up more regularly when I finish one of my currently ongoing stories… But I could just as easily choose something else, and relegate this to a once in a while thing.

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Her thighs were sticky, squishy fluids slicking up where she sat on her brothers lap. Shifting, she stifled a gasp. The feeling of his iron flesh stretching her out, and reaching deep. It was almost painful, but the discomfort just added to the feeling of electricity that raced up her spine every time he throbbed.

Her fingers clenching and unclenching the fabric of his pants, Lucy pushed herself up with trembling hands. She lifted herself as much as she dared. Half an inch of sinful flesh was bared to the air. Her lower lips exposed to the chill for just a second, before she dropped herself and sank back down his length. Parting her agonizingly, his length pressed up into her.

A sweltering heat roiled inside of her. Churning swirls of magma leaving her gasping for breath, though she tried not to show it. She bit her lip, the sting knifing through her mind, and letting her keep enough control not to moan. Icy sweat beaded down her scalp and stung her eyes. The dual feeling of heat and cold fighting each other, but cold would never win.

He throbbed again. Lucy could feel it. Her brothers heartbeat, felt through the connection they shared. It was one of the things she loved most about doing this. The build up was slow and almost painful, but it was steady. A tension locking her muscles. She arched her back, as her heartbeat matched with his. Resting the back of her head against his shoulder, his arms squeezed her closer.

He couldn't move as much as her, but the way he rolled his hips underneath her… He was stirring her up inside. His length rolling against her walls, it brushed over a nerve and she inhaled sharply. But she couldn't be too loud. She couldn't cry out. She wished she could turn her head and kiss him, but she couldn't. Not now.

She couldn't do what he was doing. But leaning back into his hold, she rocked backwards and forwards instead. It was subtle, but it was enough. The sawing motion of his flesh repeatedly brushing against her womb, she liked to think. Back and forth, back and forth. Working a furrow, the shape of him, into her very core. He churned up her depths, and a jolt of something intense lit up her nervous system. Her mouth was dry, save for a few bubbles of spit that clung at the back of her throat. Her breath was hot. She came, but he didn't stop.

Her fluids drenching his pants, even as he works inside her. With a few stifled gasps, she caught her breath as much as she could. Holding in whimpers as his iron rolled against her, she felt something between pain and pleasure, as he rocked against her still sensitive flesh. Closing her eyes, she held her breath. The lights were too bright, and if she drew attention it would all be over.

…

Dream Boat was one of Lola's favorite shows. Though, she liked the last season better. Her favorite guy had already been forced to walk the plank. Byron was still pretty good though. He was her second pick this season, because he clearly knew how to treat a lady. Roses, and candle lit dinner. An intimate exchange, while looking at the stars at night. He might not have been as good as Brian, but he was a close second.

She just wished Lincoln would stop shifting beside her. It was distracting.

"Would you stop moving so much?" She whispered at him, as he bumped into her again. "If you're so uncomfortable, nobody is making you be here." He didn't respond. "Lincoln!" She hissed.

"What?" He jerked in place, but turned his head to look at her.

"Stop moving." She said again. "You're moving the cushion."

"Oh…" He took a deep breath, looking kind of out of it for some reason. "S-sorry." He gasped softly.

"Are you sick?" She scooted away from him, glancing at Lucy sitting on his lap. If so, the goth was probably already infected.

"N-no." He took a deep, slow, breath "It's just h-hard to find a comfortable s-spot with Lucy sitting on my lap."

"Lucy," She immediately turned her focus. "Go sit on the floor, you're making us uncomfortable."

But Lucy didn't say anything back. Silently ignoring her… Or… Not? Looking closer, Lucy looked pretty sweaty, and she was breathing deeply. Maybe she was sick after all?

"I wouldn't want to make her move." Lincoln answered instead.

"Yeah, well I would." She retorted.

"Well, why don't you move then? I-" He stopped suddenly, inhaling quickly, and freezing in place.

Her eyes wide, Lola leaned further away from them. The possibility that they were sick was looking more and more likely. She glanced past them, at the rest of their sisters. Were they infected too? Was the flu going around?

"Hah… Hah… Hah…" He panted audibly, making Lana, on his other side, glance at him in confusion. "W-what… Ah… What were you saying?"

"Uh… Never mind." Getting up carefully, she slid down to the floor, and scooted as far away from them as she could, while still being able to see the screen.

She'd have to keep an eye on them.

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Chapter notes:

That was pretty short. Only two pages long, in word. It was kind of a limited scene though. Meant to act as an introduction to the… Story? Does a story need to have a plot?