#hudson & tybalt.

[andmywhisperedsighs]

"Sounds like a plan to me," Hudson giggled through her smirk. Why not spend as much time with him, as she could? She had nowhere else to be right now, and as long as they could get out of here without running into her dad, then there were zero issues - and she'd managed to sneak past him many times before.

Hudson began to lift her hips, with a little shudder, slowly easing herself off and away from him.

"C'mon, lets go get soapy."

@velvetrogue

Tybalt grinned and laughed alongside Hudson as soon as she’d playfully repeated his declaration. Their gazes met again, smirks spreading across both of their lips. As soon as she mentioned the showers, a knowing glint entered Tybalt’s eyes. 

“Yeah? You wanna shower with me before we head off somewhere for the night?” he queried. Tybalt knew his words were presumptuous, both for the idea that he’d get to touch her again in the shower and then that he’d have her to himself for the night. However, the footballer was never one to shy away from what he wanted, especially when it came to a lover like Hudson. 

@andmywhisperedsighs

[geekmama]

Resolved

Chapter 2; Opportunities for Community Service

Molly was still enjoying the sleep of the justly exhausted when Sherlock was ready to depart for the Diogenes Club to see his brother the next morning.

She’d stirred slightly when he’d disentangled himself from her embrace, but a kiss and soft words had reassured her, and he’d tucked her up warmly before he’d left the room to attend to his morning ablutions. By the time he returned to dress, she was once more deep in slumber, and there she remained when he was ready to depart. He paused, and smiled crookedly to see her there, huddled beneath the bedclothes, with only some of her mussed but beautiful auburn hair partially visible. He became aware of an odd feeling in his breast. Amazement? Pride? Contentment? Maybe all those things and more --something akin to what he had felt as a young boy, perhaps, when he would run and shout for the pure joy of living.

Molly had given that back to him.

He was no longer a boy, though, and there was a time and place for everything. So he took a deep breath, blew her a silent kiss, and went out to greet the day.

Archie was sitting on the bottom step as he descended to the hall, but the boy jumped up and whipped off his cap.

“Good morning, Mr. Holmes! You have some errands for me?”

“Indeed, Archie. I have two messages for you to deliver, a shopping list, and money to complete the required purchases. There should be enough left over to treat yourself to a pie or sweets of some kind, and you can keep the remainder as a token of my gratitude. I am going out this morning but I should be back by noon. Presumably you can complete those tasks and return in time for our midday repast. I may have additional work for you this afternoon, depending on what my brother has to say to me.”

“Thank you, sir!” said Archie, with a quick bow and, without more ado, took himself off.

Sherlock followed him out of the house at a more sedate pace, thankful that Mrs. Hudson did not emerge from her flat to quiz him about… well, anything, really. She had a very sharp eye for an elderly woman, and a sharp wit, too. He knew she was genuinely fond of him, but her raillery could wait until they all sat down to lunch and a glass or two of wine. Then, too, Molly would be there to draw her fire -- though Molly seemed always to bring out the landlady’s gentler side.

Molly brought out his own gentler side, too, though he wouldn’t have thought until recently that he actually had one. But there it was: shot through the ear with a love song, the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow-boy’s butt shaft. Yet he felt quite certain he was still a man to encounter Tybalt -- or any other rogue that could be brought to justice by one at the height of his strength and deductive powers. If anything, marriage had thoroughly roused the instinct to protect what was his. And she was his -- just as he was hers. Their every encounter in the bedroom seemed to strengthen that bond. It wasn’t merely the act itself. It was the caring and honesty replete in every moment, their hearts stripped bare along with their bodies.

Mycroft had always warned him about the danger of caring too much. Mycroft wasn’t wrong, but Sherlock had begun to feel he’d only been half-alive before surrendering to the enchantment of love. Of loving, and being loved in return.

All these thoughts were with him on the cab ride to the Diogenes Club, and when he entered Mycroft’s office it was evident that they were still writ large upon his countenance, at least to his discerning brother.

Mycroft greeted him with a sardonic smile. “Well, I see married life agrees with you. Welcome back to reality, brother mine.”

Sherlock laughed, but did not dispute the point. “A reality that now features the woman I am privileged to call my wife is a happy one indeed.”

Mycroft’s brows rose slightly. “You have changed your tune, haven’t you? Well, well. As I believe I said seven weeks ago, I wish you joy. Both of you!”

“Thank you, on both our behalves. And I believe I must thank you for the wedding gift as well. A kitchen and a French chef: really, Mycroft, you couldn’t think of something a trifle more extravagant?”

“Well, I could have, but nothing that would so perfectly serve my own interests.You’re pleased then? Alphonse was trained  at Le Cordon Bleu, but was something of a loose cannon. He acquired a reputation for being difficult and couldn’t get a reference, nor any work that was worthy of his skill, so he came over here. Hopefully he won’t give you any trouble.”

“I believe we’ve made a start at coming to an understanding. And he is an excellent cook. You should come to dinner tonight and see for yourself.”

Mycroft looked a little surprised. “Thank you. I’m afraid duty calls tonight however: a reception at the Russian Embassy that I must attend, However, another time the invitation will be most welcome.”

“Ah. Molly will be disappointed.”

“Will she? Please give my dear sister-in-law my regards, and tell her I will wait upon her soon. And now, what else can I do for you this morning, Sherlock? You aren’t bored already?.”

“Not at all. Just picking up old threads. I’ve sent a message round to Lestrade that I’m once again available, and if you have anything going, I might lend a hand by way of thanks. You’ve done a great deal for us these last months. But I beg you will consider that Molly won’t begin her new term at the medical school for two more weeks.”

“And you wish to enjoy her unfettered companionship as much as possible before she is consumed with her studies?” Mycroft’s expression was surprisingly free of mockery. “You are a fortunate man, I believe.. And as it happens, I might have something that might suit the two of you. A short jaunt out of town to a pleasant seaside resort. Almost another honeymoon destination, though admittedly the atmosphere is not quite on a par with that of Italy.”

“ Which seaside resort?” Sherlock demanded, fearing the worst.

“Blackpool, I’m afraid.” Mycroft’s lips quirked at Sherlock’s groan. “Indeed, you see why I do not attempt to complete the errand myself. Not only legwork , but people -- and so many of them, too . I really couldn’t. But the mission may be completed quickly, if you don’t wish to linger, and there is little likelihood of danger or mishap. An ideal assignment for a newlywed couple, in fact.”

Sherlock glared a bit. “I suppose you saved this for my return.”

“I may have done,” Mycroft said, an amused glint in his eye. “But really, you have to admit that Molly, at least, will be charmed.”

  *

  Molly was charmed. Ordinarily Sherlock would have been both annoyed and bored beyond permission, and the fact that he was neither was entirely due to Molly’s unabashed enthusiasm for every aspect of their new “adventure”.

Their second evening at Baker Street saw them sitting down to another extraordinary dinner, courtesy of Alphonse, this time attended by the Watsons as well as Mrs. Hudson and Archie. Over a really excellent bisque de homard, Sherlock announced that he and Molly would be off to Blackpool on the morrow to transact some business for the British government.

Mrs. Hudson nearly choked. “But you’ve only just returned!” she protested.

“True, but there’s nothing for it. Mycroft sent word an hour ago that everything is arranged: first class accommodations on the train, a suite at a decent hotel, a stipend to cover the cost of meals and such souvenirs as Molly will be unable to resist -- I believe I saw the inside of every shop in Rome and Florence these last weeks.” He smirked at his wife’s obvious chagrin, and added, “He’s sending a cab to take us to the station at ten o’clock tomorrow.”

Molly said, “You know I tried to limit my spending, and it was you who insisted on buying the pearl set, and this.” She gestured to the very fine brooch at her throat, hand-painted roses on enamel, surrounded by a delicate gold filigree. “But how kind of Mycroft to give us such a treat!”

But John raised his brows. “Blackpool?” he asked, barely stifling a chuckle.

Sherlock gave him a quelling look. “I’m sure it will be fine. We should be back in a very few days, in any case.”

“And Molly will enjoy it excessively,” Mary said. “The sea air, walks on the beach, the aquarium, the new Tower, and dancing in the evenings. How I envy you!”

Sherlock had been skeptical of Mary’s cheery predictions, but in the event they all came to pass. Seeing Blackpool through his bride’s innocent eyes made the garish surroundings and teeming masses of holiday-goers tolerable -- even amusing much of the time. They were away five days, two devoted mostly to travel, two to seaside fun in exceptionally clement weather, and one in which it poured rain and they stayed abed nearly all the day. The four evenings they were in town were devoted to some surprisingly excellent dining, theatre-going, and dancing, after which they would retire to their well-appointed suite at the Clifton Hotel in Talbot Square, by the North Pier, and be blessedly, completely alone. There was no need to rise early, so they enjoyed a delicious breakfast in bed each morning, in every sense of the phrase. And Mycroft’s assignment merely consisted of contacting one of his agents -- a stout grey-haired female who sold parasols and gathered gossip from one of the many booths on the strand -- to receive a detailed report on some crime syndicate that was beginning to gain a foothold in the town.

It was almost with regret that Sherlock and Molly bid Blackpool adieu on the fifth day and boarded the train that would return them to London. They sat side by side in their large private compartment, watching the green countryside move past, and when Molly, replete with contentment, presently dozed off, leaning against his shoulder, Sherlock found himself realizing that he had rarely felt happier in his life.

  *

  The next morning, however, a shadow crept over Molly’s contentment.

Returning from the toilet as dawn crept into their bedroom, Molly slipped into bed and curled close, her aspect subdued. “I… I’ve… um… it’s that time of the month for me, I’m afraid,” she said, trying to sound unconcerned and failing miserably.

Sherlock frowned and slid down, repositioning himself so that he could lay a warm hand upon her abdomen, well aware that, even discounting the previous month, when they were in Venice, she always found menstruation a trial for the first day or two. “Are you in much pain? A small dose of laudanum--”

“Oh, no!” she broke in. “I… I dislike it so very much. And I don’t want to be half asleep all day. Mary and I are to meet for lunch at the Holborn.”

“Very well. But if I find you martyring yourself for no good reason--”

“I won’t! It… I don’t think it will be as bad as it was last month.”

“No, indeed.”

In Venice, Sherlock had felt that a doctor should be summoned, Molly seemed to be suffering so. The man’s diagnosis -- “... it is perhaps a miscarriage, but not to worry, there’s little danger from what you tell me, she can’t be very far along …” --  had shocked Sherlock to the bone, and Molly had wept as though her heart were breaking until the doctor’s prescribed draft had pulled her under, immersing her in restful, healing sleep. Physically, she recovered within a few days, and their remaining time in Venice had been quite enjoyable, but a cloud had hung over her spirits until they moved onto Milan and intimate relations were resumed, though he put firm limits on their activities until the full fortnight of abstinence the doctor had recommended was complete -- much to Molly’s indignation.

From that first night at the Savoy, she’d seemed to enjoy sexual congress as much as he did himself.

And she wanted a child. His child.

Sherlock, however, was ambivalent about the prospect of offspring, and he had a (thus far hidden but all too real) dread at the thought of inflicting upon his beloved young wife the pain and risks associated with childbirth.  He realized that the event was probably inevitable, and soon, considering their mutual enthusiasm in the bedroom, but on this morning he could not help thinking it was all to the good that she would at least begin the fall term at the medical school unencumbered by pregnancy.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of saying as much.

She lay very still, looking at him, biting her lip. And then she blurted, “Sherlock… don’t you want us to have a child?”

“Did I say that?” he said, with a pretense of strong resentment.

“No! I’m… Forgive me. I just find it so disappointing myself that… well.”

Sherlock drew her against him and she clung to him, rather stiffly, trying not to give in to tears. “Sweetheart,” he said quietly, “you’ve plenty of time for that. And excessive anxiety will only hinder the process -- I have it on good authority.”

He felt her smile. “John and Mary?” she asked.

“Precisely. Watson says that it wasn’t until they both stopped worrying about it that they achieved a favorable outcome.”

“Mary told me before we left for Blackpool that she suspects that Rosamund may have a little brother or sister in eight months. Don’t tell John, though -- she wants to wait just a little longer. She told me she miscarried twice before she was able to carry Rosamund to term.”

“Mmm. I won’t say anything. But you must promise me you will put the notion out of your head for now, as far as Baby Holmes is concerned. Enjoy your experience at school, and your studies!”

“And my beloved husband, again, in a few days,” she said, making an effort to sound impishly cheerful.

He smiled, and slid his hand down to caress her lovely, round backside. “You know, there are any number of things we can do right now, provided you are so inclined. I’m not at all squeamish about a little blood, and studies have shown that orgasm can be an aid in the relief of menstrual cramps.”

“Really? They’ve done studies on such things?”

“I know I read it somewhere. But perhaps we should do what we can to confirm their findings. In a spirit of scientific enquiry.”

She chuckled at having her own phraseology tossed back at her, and moved, raising her lips to his and saying huskily, “Yes, please, Mr. Holmes,” before she kissed him.

  *

  Molly started the fall term at the London School of Medicine for Women a week later and happily settled into her studies. But within the first few days, her interest was increased tenfold by the announcement that all third year students would be required to participate in community service.

“And where do they have you going? You are supervised, are you not?” asked Sherlock over one of Alphonse’s simpler, yet still excellent repasts one evening. Archie was dining with the family of a friend, and Mrs. Hudson had traveled into Devon to visit her sister, so it was just the two of them sitting at the small dining table in their own flat, a cheerful fire burning in the grate and thick fog closing in outside, increasing the sense of seclusion.

“Oh, yes. There is an advisor and often other students from my class. We’ve been assigned to the Brooks-Henley Institution for Girls -- they are most of them orphans, but there are some who are placed there because of difficult situations at home. And we married ladies are able to go also to the Magdalene Hospital.”

“Really?” said Sherlock, lifting a brow. “And how do you find that?”

Molly grimaced. “Rather dreadful, as a woman. There, but for the grace of God…. But as a medical student, I find it quite fascinating, and I am very happy to be able to aid those poor women in some small way. I was able to witness a birth yesterday.”

“Did you?” Sherlock said, too blandly.

Molly smiled. “It was most interesting, and my advisor told us that it was quite an easy birth, too. It did not seem that way to me, but I daresay I’ll get used to such things. They gave the mother a little chloroform at the end, just as the queen had with her eighth child, which made the last of it go much more smoothly and quietly. But the poor thing was only fifteen years of age -- it’s not surprising she was terrified, and unable to bear the pain with any kind of stoicism.” Molly took another bite of Poulet à la Provençale, then frowned at Sherlock, who looked a little disturbed, and even rather pale. “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” he said, and visibly rallied, with the help of a big sip of wine.

But it was noticeable that he asked no more questions about the Magdalene Hospital or the Institution, at least at that time, and she did not share with him that she had actually been assigned a third venue for community service, and one that she quite naturally, if reprehensibly, found to be the most interesting of all: Madame Celeste’s in Bennet Street, off St. James’.

[londontheatre]

Montagues and Capulets

Romeo and Juliet is probably one of the World’s most performed plays; I have seen at least ten productions over the years – it remains timeless and if performed well, is a beautiful production. When I heard that Colab Theatre were tackling the piece in their own special way I just had to experience the production for myself!

Unlike other Colab productions, there is no tying up of people (well, not the audience/participants anyway) and no gun shots or crawling through dark corridors on your knees. However, there is a fair amount of clambering about, climbing ladders, shouting as loud as possible and an arm wrestle or two. If you do decide to go I suggest wearing flat shoes/trainers and trousers. Also, if you struggle with access then talk to the company before you book a ticket.

Turning up to the venue off Borough High Street, I was given a disclaimer to sign, agreeing that if I fell I wouldn’t sue them! I was then stamped as a Montague and walked through to the bar.

In my estimation, there were around 50 people at the 7.00pm show. Our invitation told us that 1990s attire was encouraged, especially band outfits. I struggled to find something suitable so wore my Bon Jovi Hoody (yes, they were very popular in the 90s) others had florescent dummies and glow sticks. All of this was to get us in the vibe, to make us feel like we were back in a 90s warehouse squat.

The audience of willing participants are given a safe word, and the piece begins. I’m a Montague. I’m inducted into the Montague family and I am given my new name, Dragon Blood Montague. I learn the chant and within minutes of entering their warehouse space, I am screaming out my hate for the evil Capulet family. I am a Montague, I drink Capulet Blood. I have my warpaint on and I am committed to the production.

With immersive theatre you tend to get out what you put in. I’d say that 90% of Friday’s audience were enjoying the show and taking part. There were a few people who didn’t seem to get it and it was quite off-putting to have them there, especially when they were just sitting around texting on their phones while the rest of the group were playing dodge ball and starting a riot!

The audience is split in two, so my review can only reflect my experience of the Montagues, however, I think I was on the far superior side!

Now, those who know the Shakespeare play well, know that Shakespeare did not tell us why the families were at war, Colab Theatre do tell you. I’m not going to share with you what that reason is, but it gives gravitas to the full production and allows you to embrace your Montague heritage and fight fiercely for your name.

What follows is a fabulously fun two hours of pure enjoyment, silliness and as I like to call it, Shakespeare bingo. If you don’t know the play, this won’t remove any of your enjoyment, but if you do recognise any of the text then it will add to your pleasure, I assure you.

What is utterly brilliant about this show is its believability. I never thought you could speak in iambic pentameter one moment, blank verse the next, then move into a lexicon of swear words and insults yet feel like it fits together seamlessly. It is a credit to the cast that the production isn’t perceived as just a game. The performers are truly talented actors who really do embody their characters and allow you to become absorbed in their world. This to me is perfect immersive theatre and what all immersive theatre companies should be doing.

I loved the piece; I danced like a crazy fool at a rave with Juliet’s nurse, who was incidentally dressed in a Spice Girls outfit – you know the Union Jack one that Geri wore at the Brits. I also played dodgeball and threw a football at Tybalt (maybe if I hurt him then he wouldn’t be able to murder the lovely Mercutio later in the play!). I partied in an after-hour activity in the Church of Friar Laurence and I almost shed a tear when Juliet woke up to find Romeo dead at her feet. I also had the opportunity to question Romeo’s love for Juliet and witnessed the wedding of the ill-fated star-crossed lovers.

I can’t review the piece without mentioning the fight scenes. The coordination of these scenes was amazing, really enjoyable to watch and slightly scary having the action happening around me. Being able to stand over the dead bodies of Tybalt and Mercutio is not as I’d expected.

The piece is a true ensemble production where all the performers are working together to guide the audience through their journey. With characterisations stolen from the “real world” Lord Montague reminded me of Ray Winstone; Romeo a love sick fool; Mercutio that friend who is always in a track suit larking about in the pub; Tybalt in his Del Boy sheep-skin jacket, and Paris in his red chinos and satin shirt. All stereotypes that are warmly embraced and portrayed well.

There were a few technical issues, which I’m sure will be ironed out within a few shows, and sometimes it was hard to hear the cast due to some in the audience experiencing their own story and other cast members running up and down steps. The show also came to a very abrupt ending. All these things will be fixed and this will be worthy of 5 stars.

Buy, beg or steal a ticket for this show, you’ll regret it if you don’t! Go and be a Montague (or a Capulet) and embrace this talented cast as they do their magic.

Review by Faye Stockley

Star-crossed lovers, rival families, you know the story – but would you change it if you could? This immersive theatre production is a unique adaption of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, set in a warehouse squat during the 1990’s…when rave culture was MASSIVE.

For never was there a story of more woe, but this time the audience decides where this story goes, with the choices they make and the actions they take changing the fate of Juliet and Her Romeo. Your family welcomes you into competing sides as either a Montague or Capulet as you become a character in their story. These violent delights have violent ends, but will you bite your thumb?

Cast: Fiona Hardy – Juliet Vicky Gaskin – Lady Montagues Peter Dewhurst – Tybalt Fergus Leatham – Paris Joeseph Tremain – Benvolio Ieuan Coombs – Romeo Jack Harding – Lord Capulet James Unsworth – Lord Montague Ben Hudson – Mercutio Daniel Swain – Friar Laurence Jurell Carter – Prince

Director: Bertie Watkins Performance Directors: Peter Dewhurst and Ben Hudson Creative Producer: Sarah Morris Sound Design: Ben Hudson Fight Coordinator: James Unsworth

Running Time: approximately 2 hours plus access to exclusive themed bar after performance Various Dates: Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings 24th of March to 27rd of April 2017 Times: 7:00pm – 9.00pm and 9.00pm – 11.00pm

Access to exclusive themed ‘in-world’ bar after the performance Location: Nearest Stations London Bridge or Borough Station CoLab Theatre 84 Long Lane, London, SE1 4AU http://ift.tt/1zpGRbo Age: Recommended for age 18+ Younger audiences of 14+ may attend with a parent or guardian at their own discretion. Contains strong language, references to sex, violence, and drugs.

http://ift.tt/2n69SIc LondonTheatre1.com

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

There is no denying the way her smirk grows at his words. Hudson steps closer, just close enough that her hand can reach out, fingers curving around the bulge in his underwear.

"You mean, thinking of him?" Her eyes twinkle playfully as she leans forward, pressing herself against him a little, eyes still peering up at him. "Well, maybe I need some photos of a handsome stud, and maybe he needs photos of this stunning and irresistible woman he is talking about," she hums, before she gives him a little squeeze, head tilting.

"I do get oh so lonely when my bed is empty, you know."

@midnightsaboteur

As Hudson took a step closer to him, Tybalt held his ground with a smirk. Again, he blatantly raked his gaze up and down her figure whilst his bulge twitched evidently against the thin fabric of his boxers. Mere seconds later, she alluded to his growing arousal with her words, the subsequent quip about ‘professionalism’ drawing a laugh from Tybalt. Quick as a light, he said “And if the shots weren’t for professional purposes, what then? Say if they were for… private use?” He let a second go by for the implication to sink in before adding, “Private use by a stunning and oh so irresistible publicity executive for the team… ya know, on those lonely nights where I’m not around, and she might be thinking of me...” 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[andmywhisperedsighs]

It took a little while for them both to recover. Limbs tangled, chest rising and falling with a desperate attempt to recover their breaths, Hudson was satisfied. Tybalt was good at what he did, on and off the field. Especially when it came to a locker room entanglement. Quite different to their entanglements in hotel rooms, but god it had been a good idea, and there were zero regrets in Hudson's mind, there rarely was regrets when it came to what she got up to with Tybalt.

"Fucking amazing," her voice echoes his, managing a little giggle, realising just how breathless they both are. Sweaty and breathless, she lifts her head a little to catch his gaze, managing a smirk.

"Good thing we are so close to the showers."

@velvetrogue

Despite all the dominance he’d shown during their hot encounter, it was three simple words from Hudson that determined when Tybalt finished. A loud cry mere seconds later signalled what was about to happen. A moment after that, following a final thrust deep inside her, Tybalt came. His tip spurted load after load into Hudson whilst she clenched down around him, her juices spurting from her sex to coat his cock and gush onto his lap. He continued moaning and crying out loudly as waves of orgasmic bliss crashed over him. 

In those blissful moments, Tybalt couldn’t even think, so consumed was he by his high. It was only half a minute later or so that he could finally begin to muster coherent thought again, once he’d shot all he could inside her and as his high began to dissipate. His muscles burning and skin slick with sweat, Tybalt nevertheless managed a grin as he caught Hudson’s gaze again. “Amazing. Fucking amazing,” he declared nearly breathlessly. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

Somehow, between the moans and grunts, the gasps and the whimpers, Hudson finds the ability to speak, just a few words. Directly into his ear, desperately, before she gets pulled away with another thrust, replaced with pants and loud gasps, body shuddering and quivering.

"Cum for me." It will set her off, she knows that. Hudson also knows that they are also so close. The squeaking of the bench, the noises echoing around the locker room. The throbbing of him inside her and the throbbing of her nipples, and the way she clenches down on him. Hudson is ready to explode.

@velvetrogue

After nipping at her tits and sucking on her nipples for as long as he could, Tybalt eventually had to come up for air properly. He lifted his head to watch Hudson as she continued bouncing up and down on his cock, her body working in time with the powerful thrusts he was slamming up into her. She’d obviously lost the ability to speak, a fact that made Tybalt grin as he met her gaze. He moved one hand down to take a firm grip of her ass whilst the other roaming up and down her torso, going from her bouncing breasts to her waist and everywhere else, his gaze following the movements to admire her figure. With the intensity of their sex running through him and all the athletic exertion it required of him, Tybalt didn’t speak either, the male instead entirely content to moan, grunt and groan as he fucked continually into Hudson, wanting nothing more than to bring them both to crashing climaxes. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

God, Tybalt was a capable man. He could hold his own against her, in confidence and with his charming personality, and knew how to take her teasing. But, he also had the stamina that so many people didn't. Chalk it up to being an athlete, the way he could just thrust and slam into her consistently, while she basically fell apart on him, was everything.

Snippy comments were no longer, replaced by whimpers and soft pants. Hudson couldn't quite manage a tease back or a playful comment, simply consumed by the pleasure that was starting to take over. Fingers gripping down at him, nails pressing against his skin, bouncing as much as she could, before all she could manage was squeaks, the soft noise echoing around the locker room as her body shook, eyes rolling.

@velvetrogue

Tybalt grinned when Hudson affirmed that she was just a good girl for him. “That’s right, such a good girl. My good girl,” Tybalt replied, words almost breathless given the exertion of their sex but the broad grin remaining on his features nevertheless. He had no qualms about being assertive or claiming she was his whilst they had sex. If anything, it only added to the lustre of the heated encounter for Tybalt. 

When he felt Hudson clench down upon him after he’d begun worshipping her breasts, Tybalt couldn’t help but smirk again. He caught her gaze with a teasing glint in his eyes before resuming his attention on her breasts, alternating between kissing and nipping against her soft mounds and taking her hardened nipples into his mouth. He couldn’t resist sucking on them, his moans muffled yet still pronounced as he did so. All the while, as Hudson pleaded for him to continue worshipping her breasts, holding his face close against her mounds, Tybalt fucked her still, rolling his hips with his athletic prowess to drill her cunt whilst he indulged himself with her tits. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

"Just for you," Hudson got out, breathily, before he buried himself in her tight walls again. She didn't sleep with just anybody, nor did she let anybody call her a good girl, but fuck, Tybalt could. And god, he did.

Just as she thought she was already feeling good, she caught that clint in his eyes, and whined, before his mouth even reached her breasts. A soft cry escaped Hudson, feeling herself clench down on him as he started to suck and lick at her sensitive mounds.

"Don't stop," she pleaded, gripping the bench tightly as she kept rocking against him, one hand coming around to try and hold his face close to her, shuddering. "God please don't stop, whatever you do.."

@velvetrogue

Clearly Hudson was lost for words as a result of the way his cock sank into her, and Tybalt honestly couldn’t blame her. The sheer warm, inviting tightness of her sex around his achingly hard cock made him moan, grunt and growl without relent as he began thrusting inside her. Hudson began rocking in time with him too, and she managed two pairs of pleading words, both putting a grin on Tybalt’s lips whilst he rolled his hips. 

“Yeah? Good girl… such a good girl for me…” he breathed moments later, moans and grunts continuing to flow from him all the while. He settled into a moderate pace of thrusts to begin, but going deep every time, the male wanting to bury his cock inside her to make her feel him, even if he wasn’t pounding her quick and hard from the off. As he thrusted, Tybalt began running his hands over Hudson’s exposed figure, his hands unsurprisingly soon split between her breasts and her ass. After a few moments, Tybalt briefly met Hudson's gaze, a teasing glint in his eyes before he leaned down to start using his mouth against her soft mounds.

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

For someone that was teasing mere moments again, Hudson was very quickly struggling for words. It wasn't her fault though, really. It was his. As he sank into her depths, sinking into her tight walls, stretching her out in such a familiar way, it should be no surprise that the words were getting stuck in her throat. Any sense of attitude was temporarily washed away, with a flush of her lashes and a widening of her legs, wanting every inch of him firmly inside her.

His words, made it difficult to find her own too. It took a moment, a shaky breath, a quiet squeak as he smacked her ass before she finally spoke up, husky voice slipping out between them. "Show me," she breathed out, rocking her hips against him, with a shudder.

"Take me."

@velvetrogue

A long, low growl emerged from Tybalt when he finally got to sink inside Hudson. He held her gaze until she tilted her head back, her soft cry prompting a moan to slip from the male amidst his grunts and growls. The feeling of Hudson’s tight walls enveloping his aching, hard member sent warm, content delight washing all over Tybalt. As much as he wanted to start fucking Hudson hard and fast, he couldn’t help but bathe in just how wonderful it felt to bury himself inside her tight, inviting sex. 

“Yeah? You like that, baby girl?” Tybalt murmured a few moments after her cry. Ever vocal during sex, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to make her moan, plea and whimper for him. “You like my big fat cock buried in your tight little pussy? Want me to show you just how I can own your hot cunt?” With that, Tybalt slapped Hudson’s ass again before taking a firm hold of her ass cheeks, simultaneously starting to rock his hips to begin the first of undoubtedly many thrusts into her. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

God, it was fun to tease him. The look in his eyes, the groan that she got from him, it was addictive. It also felt ridiculously good to be humping along him, but she knew it would feel even better when she finally sank down on him, or he sank into her. Her growing arousal was evident, lace dampening even more, before she giggled at him, just as breathless.

A breathy gasp was pulled from parted lips sharply, Hudson shifting slightly as he spanked her. She barely had a moment to readjust before he was pulling her panties to the side and sinking into her.

Hudson's head tilted back a little, whining out as her walls began to stretch around him.

"Oh Ty.."

@velvetrogue

Hudson shifted herself quickly above him, getting into a position where she could lower herself onto his cock. He watched with an eager, desperate glint in his eyes as Hudson sank down, and as soon as he felt her slick, lace-covered folds against his aching member, Tybalt couldn’t help but groan needily. 

However, rather than slip her panties to the side and allow him to push inside of her, Hudson opted to tease him by rolling her hips slowly, effectively humping his cock in a way that elicited more groans and grunts from Tybalt, as the damp lace rubbed so perfectly, if also torturously, against his length. 

“Fucking tease…” Tybalt managed to get out, his tone near breathless. He managed to grin, however, though a moment later, the expression disappeared as he spanked her sharply in a move of half punishment and half foreplay. Resuming his firm grip on her ass, Tybalt reached down under her skirt with his free hand, seeking to pull her panties to the side so he could finally push inside her. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

Hudson couldn't help the smirk that tugged at glossed lips as their eyes met. His need was intense, obvious in his gaze, eager to be touched, eager for it to be his turn. He may have enjoyed groping and playing with her tits, and god Hudson loved it too, but there was more fun to be had. There always was, and he could get back to it, if either of them wanted too.

Hudson lifted herself carefully, with his large hands underneath her pert ass. She was quick to shift, rather flexibly, even with the slight clink and clunk of her boots, and hovered right above him. Hudson lowered herself, with a devious look, and rubbed herself along his dick, the fabric that was clinging to her folds slightly, still in the way.

Hudson could pull it to the side, let him in, but right now she was more interested in humping at him, teasing him.

"Oh baby, look how hard you are.."

@velvetrogue

As he groped Hudson’s large, soft mounds, Tybalt couldn’t tear his gaze away. Nevertheless, he still moaned and growled to the touch of her lips against his jawline and down to his neck. Hudson knew his sweet spots and how to tease them in just the right way to stir his already burgeoning arousal. 

“All mine,” Tybalt affirmed as soon as she told him her tits belonged to him. His words came in a husky, possessive tone, which was matched by a darker, dominant glint in his eyes when he finally lifted his head up to meet Hudson’s gaze. In all honesty, he could’ve sat and played with her breasts for ages, yet the arousal emanating from his trapped stiff cock made Tybalt slide his hands down to cup Hudson’s ass instead. He took a firm hold and lifted her up by a few inches, his intentions clear in wanting her to sink down on him. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites / @velvetrogue

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

It was a little hard for Hudson to keep her tease up as his attention turned to her bra. The fabric falling to the ground, revealing heavy soft breasts, Tyson was instantly taken by them - expectedly so. Hudson hummed softly, the noise quickly turning into more of a whimper, as fingers began to grope and squeeze gently.

"There we go," she breathed out, angling herself a little so he had better access, lips parted with another soft hum. While Tybalt's fingers explored, Hudson's lips moved to drift across his jaw again, down his neck.

"Mmm, all yours baby."

@midnightsaboteur

Tybalt continued hurriedly undoing Hudson’s blouse, and once the buttons were finally loose, he pushed the garment from her shoulders. All the while, they continued kissing, and she teasingly purred to him about what he liked. Each successive statement telling him something that turned him on made Tybalt laugh. A grin also spread across his lips after each kiss, and when Hudson asserted that above all, he just liked her, the athlete shrugged. 

“Perhaps,” he teased, grinning again and winking right after he said it. More moans and gruff growls slipped from him when Hudson began kissing against his neck. Not wanting to waste a further moment, especially after her challenging words, Tybalt reached round and smoothly unclipped Hudson’s bra. With her tits spilling free after the bra had fallen down, Tybalt growled and instantly took hold of her soft mounds. As he began massaging them, he murmured, “You’re right. I love your fucking tits so much.”

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

Hudson smirked at his comment. Of course he loved her tits, everybody loved her tits - but it was nice to hear it. A hum of enthusiasm as their lips met, eyes twinkling playfully. "Mmm, is that so?" A breathy giggle against his lips, teasingly.

"You like my tits?' Another kiss. "You like these boots?" Another kiss, a giggle. "Sounds like you just like me," Hudson purred against his lips. Head lifted, to litter kisses across his cheek and down his neck instead, teasingly, as he began to work on her blouse.

"I know you can go faster then that..."

@midnightsaboteur

Tybalt’s grin grew and he laughed approvingly when Hudson affirmed she couldn’t possibly dislike the sight of him naked. As she moved onto the benches too, Tybalt’s gaze dropped down to her legs and the hitching of her skirt. His eyes lingered there until she told him to strip her, at which point he looked back up to meet hers. His heart began racing in excitement, and another laugh followed to her playful words. 

“Damn straight, babe. You know how much I fucking love your tits,” Tybalt enthused. As much as he could be cool, collected and charming when flirting, he had no qualms about letting his excitement burst through when the moment was right. Without wasting a further moment, he moved forward and pulled Hudson closer to him. He pressed his lips to hers for the first of undoubtedly many heated kisses whilst simultaneously undoing the buttons of her blouse.

“Fucking love you… in those… boots too…” he murmured between kisses, alluding to her playful earlier hint about keeping those on her during sex. As much as he showed his lust for her, Tybalt also had no regrets about telling her the kind of outfits or clothing he loved on her too. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

"How could I not like that view?" Hudson smirked, eyes still drinking him in hungrily. Answer wasn't needed, because on how eager her gaze was, but he liked to tease, she liked to tease back. "Well it's a good thing I know what I want," she hummed, following him to the benches and settling down onto them, legs crossed, skirt riding up a little as she watched him.

"And right now I want you to strip me," Hudson's head tilts, playful glance at his crotch once more. "We don't have to lose every inch of fabric," her foot rises, gesturing to her heeled boots, he is more then welcome to keep them on if he likes, before her smirk grows. "There's a time and a place for a skirt up and panties to the side, but something tells me you'd like a better look at these tits, no?"

@midnightsaboteur

As soon as his boxers had fallen around his ankles, Tybalt’s gaze lingered on his hard cock. He soon saw Hudson admiring his member too, which prompted him to smirk and laugh approvingly. “You like that, babe?” he teased, in obvious reference to his cock, not even needing an answer because he knew what she thought anyway. Nevertheless, Tybalt always liked to tease. 

When she opted for the bench and then the lockers, Tybalt’s grin grew, and he laughed again. “Always love a girl who knows just what she wants,” he told her playfully, moving forward then. He brushed past her, taking her hand and leading her to the benches behind them. Tybalt sat down on one, his gaze running up her figure in an evidently lustful manner, judging by the glint in his eyes. “One problem though, babe,” he began, tone just as teasing as before. “You’re still all clothed… you gonna let me strip you down? Or is this a skirt up, panties to the side kinda gig?” 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

Hudson giggled at the growl. It was so sexy, to know that he fault about her that way, she could basically feel him throb in her grip. She glanced around the room, feeling him follow her, before she peered over her shoulder at him, with a smirk.

"Oh, my choice?" She hummed, playfully, her eyes dropping to his crotch as she watched him tug down his underwear. Hudson licked her lips at him, eyes honed in the thick member before her eyes slowly trailed up to his eyes once more, smirking, almost challenging him. "Bench. Then maybe locker, I don't see anything wrong with switching it up."

@midnightsaboteur

A sharp, low growl shot right out of Tybalt’s throat when Hudson squeezed his dick, the sound instinctive and betraying the burning lust right at his very core. His muscles tensed all over, as it took all of Tybalt’s self-control not to jump Hudson to take her there and then. 

Instead, as she moved away from him to survey the room, Tybalt followed. Her words alluded to a pretty swift turn into fucking, and at that, Tybalt’s smirk returned. “I always like to let the lady choose where I make her cum,” he teased, chuckling too just when he came to a stop before her, mere inches away. “Bench, lockers, shower, floor… it’s your choice, babe. Just depends on how you see yourself taking my dick.” By then, with his boxers tenting his boxers so prominently, Tybalt couldn’t wait any longer. He pushed down on the hem of the fabric and then tugged, sending his underwear down to his ankles and letting his hard, aching cock spring free. 

@missperfectlyfinewrites

[missperfectlyfinewrites]

The growl that escaped his lips made goose bumps rise on her arms. She knew how delicious his voice could sound during sex, especially crying out her name, and she wanted that. It was honestly surprising that he hadn't burst through the boxers, but there was obviously a reason he wore this select style - one must be careful with a big dick.

"You are good at bed warming," Hudson gave his bulge a careful squeeze before her hand dropped away from him, taking a few steps, heeled boots clicking, for her gaze to take in the room, humming softly.

"Well, I don't see why not," she teased lightly. "There's a bench, there's lockers, there's a girl..there's a guy with a bulge, It seems to be obvious what we should do..no?" Hudson turned back to face him, eyes twinkling cheekily.

@midnightsaboteur

A low growl emanated from Tybalt as he felt Hudson wrap her fingers around his bulge. Unsurprisingly, his dick twitched to her touch, with more blood rushing to his cock as a result to make him fully hard. The result tented the thin fabric of his boxers, his cock liable to spring free with just the slightest bit of further pressure. Meanwhile, Tybalt’s heart thudded quickly, lust soaring through his veins. 

With Hudson touching him so intimately and standing right before him, a large part of Tybalt’s mind screamed at him to take charge and take her. For the moment, though, his rational side prevailed, in favour of listening to her seductive offer. As its implications became clear, Tybalt’s lips curved into a smirk. He nodded. 

“Sounds like we can both benefit from photos…” he began, tone entirely and evidently assured. “As for warming your bed up? I can help with that…. the only problem is, can we make it, babe? The way you’re touching me now… I can’t see us leaving this locker room.” 

@missperfectlyfinewrites