Headboard Confessional
Lust
By Missy

SERIES: Headboard Confessional
SUBSERIES TITLE: Lust
PART: 1 of 1
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING(s): ...do you know me or not? L/L
DISTRIBUTION: To LW, Kai, Myself and FG so far; any other archives are welcome to ask, but disclaimers must be included, my email left intact. send a URL, and provide full disclaimers as well as credit me fully. Please inform me if you are going to submit my work to any sort of search engine. Please do not submit my work to a search engine that picks out random sets of words and uses them as key words, such as "Google"

Please contact me in order for this story to be placed on an archive, or if you want know of a friend who would enjoy my works, please email me their address and I will mail them the stories, expressly for the purpose of link trading. MiSTiers are welcomed! Please do inform me that you'd like to do the MiSTing, however, and send me a copy of the finished product. I'd also love to archive any MiSTings that are made of my work!
CATEGORY: Romance
FEEDBACK: PLEASE?!
SETTING IN TIMELINE: California-era.
SPOILLER/SUMMARY: Your bed knows everything about you...

NOTES: This is basically a little short series that chronicles the L/L relationship, centering in on major life events...which seem to take place mostly around the bedroom.

****

She knew where she was without having to open her eyes.

And she didn't want to open them yet; her body was filled with a languorous heat that didn't want to dispel. She felt good, knew why, and didn't want to think of anything beyond that.

Then the scent of coffee filled the air. Not cheap coffee, either; good coffee, well brewed. She stirred, opening her eyes.

He sat a the edge of the bed, eating breakfast. She recognized toast, eggs, and bacon.

"Lenny?" She muttered.

He turned to her, and she suddenly noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt. It somehow made her conscious of her nudity.

"Morning." He bent over the tray to kiss her, and she tasted creamy coffee and, to her own embarrassment, a flavor that was her own.

"Ya made me breakfast?" She asked, trepadaciously.

"Yeah." He said proudly, and she crawled to the edge of the bed. She found her old green terrycloth robe hanging around on the floor, and pulled it on. Her modesty felt unnecessary, but she wanted a barrier. He was, after all, wearing his jeans. His eyes burned against the material, and she could feel her breasts making an escape from their ratty surroundings.

"It ain't gonna bite ya, Vernie." He said, staring at her breasts.

She didn't seem entirely convinced, but began to eat. The food felt good in her mouth, and she ended up savoring everything.

"I didn't know ya could cook. The coffee's real good."

"Yeah." He smiled. "I did most of the cookin' fer Squig."

When they finished, he cleared away the table and brought on a paper. "You take entertainment, I'll take the comics, and then we can switch." He laid across the bed on his stomach, doing just as he said he would.

For Laverne, this was a new experience. No man had ever stayed behind before; nor had they imposed a whole morning routine. How eerily close it was to her own Sunday morning.

He was moving her. Why was she bothering with resistance?

She pushed aside the movie listings and kissed his back, his shoulder blades.

He rolled over. "Yer gonna smudge the ink." He warned her.

"I don't care." Her hands made their way to the snaps on his fly.

When they came free, she reached back, holding onto the headboard for dear life.



To Marriage
















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