Keeping up with Cora

A/N: Exceedingly naughty and irreverent Ode to Needy Women. A certain 'surge' in fertility described by the doctor may have been preceded by some hormonal fluctuations... in a woman of a 'certain age.'

I blame/thank augrah for the inspiration, as this came to me after I read her similar story, "Standing Tall.."

Oblique but decidedly adult conversation concerning needs. This was written in one sitting here, so hopefully it is readable. You are warned. Turn back now.

Again, he heard his wife's voice from the next room. "Robert? Are you coming to bed?"

Really, this was becoming embarrassing. He had had to have Bates help him earlier and earlier in the evening to avoid this sort of calling out from the next room. Thank goodness the valet had just left.

"Cora!" he whispered harshly, as he leaned into her chamber. "You are being rather impatient."

"I know, darling. It's just that..." and she was already rubbing her legs together under the covers and looking at him suggestively.

"You don't think this is a problem, dear?" he asked, as he approached cautiously.

"Yes, I DO think it is a problem. YOU are over there, and I am in the bed alone. THAT is the problem."

"Darling," he said softly, as he sat on the side of the bed and took her hand. "You have been wanting my attentions rather frequently. More frequently than I remember since that lovely second year of our marriage when we discovered how good we...

"Less talk, Robert. More action. I'm not senile. I KNOW we did it a lot back then. I KNOW I want it a lot now. Which is why I was hoping we could actually DO it, rather than talk about it."

"I am getting a little worn out," he admitted with his eyes cast down.

"That's alright, sweetie. I'll be on top until you get your bearings." She reached for his pajama shirt and pulled on it forcefully. He had no choice, but to climb into his spot in the bed or land on her painfully.

"I might need a night off, completely," he tried.

"I need a night ON, Robert."

"You could read or take a hot bath?"

But then he thought about all of the reading material he had been pulling from the bed of late. Ladies' romantic dribble, all of it. Except for those few non-fiction books. And what were those about? Obelisks. Monoliths. Ruddy phallic monuments. Good God! This might be a serious problem.

"If," she purred, "you can't help me, could you maybe... ring for someone. Carson? Hmmm?"

"And you want, specifically, what from him?" her husband asked with alarm.

"A great deal more than a cup of tea," she told him as she burrowed into the blankets and smiled wickedly. "Or Bates!" she said, as if it was the most innocent of sudden realizations. "Really, you choose. I think Bates would do very, very well once I got him off his feet. And messed up that hair. He has that sort of superior sort of smirk to him, doesn't he, like a man who REALLY knows what he is doing?"

"I am sure I have no idea!"

Cora closed her eyes and seemed to be imagining something rather pleasant given the look on her face.

He was afraid to touch her to break her from her reverie. So, he merely leaned closer and asked her quite sternly. "You want me to believe that you are are going to ... avail yourself of Carson..."

She groaned at the mention of the butler's name.

"Or Bates... if I do not... perform more frequently?" he asked.

"I am saying you really do not want to put this theory to the test." And she wiggled in the bed.

"Do you think I should send for the doctor?" her husband wondered then.

"No! I couldn't stand to do it with him. Not with all that horrible facial hair, really."

"But every night, Cora? Do you really need it every night?"

"Yes. And it really hasn't been enough. I've been... supplementing. Alone," Cora said with a pout.

His eye brows had risen to the point where pain might be involved.

"Come under the covers here, and I'll show you," she whispered.

He had to admit that seemed interesting at the very least. And well, apparently, parts of him were beginning to find the idea, a tad exciting, as well.

He crawled under the blankets until he was level with her chest. He was forced to hold the covers up so enough light and air came in. Really, he was going to need MORE air now that he was watching the way her fingers were plucking the buttons down her nightgown.

She rubbed there once the front was open, and he found himself leaning forward. For a closer look. Or maybe just the smallest taste.

Her hand was dragging the hem of her nightgown up now, and he raised the blankets to ensure the lighting was quite adequate. It was not just the lovely sight that was normally hidden under her clothes. It was the way those bits of her were moving right now... in very needy and determined fashion.

"You stopped licking, Robert..." she chastised in a sing song sort of voice.

"I was... just observing. Trying to discern how I could be of use."

She had her fingers where she normally wanted him, and he felt slightly superfluous. He moved lower to watch her technique. There was definitely a lack of oxygen under there he decided. He threw off the covers. She rolled full on to her back with a moan, and he put himself between her legs.

He leaned over her, but did not touch her, he merely whispered in her ear. "You would love Egypt. Thousands of obelisks. Erect, wonderful things. All screaming their praise to the gods of sexual pleasure."

He bit at her shoulder then, and she began to keen.

"Finish, my sweet Isis," he encouraged. "And then Ra will make you soar again."

And with that she screamed.

/

A/N: Any misrepresentations of Egyptian deities is purely Robert's fault. And I think we should all excuse him.