Categories: Ship, Femslash, PWP
Characters: Lucy Diamond, Amy Bradshaw
Summary: Amy has a plan. So does Lucy.
A/N: Written for the femslash porn battle. Prompt: Lucy/Amy, crayon. Additional influence from prompt 23 at 100 Women.
Disclaimer: D.E.B.S. is the creative property of Angela Robinson and Screen Gems.
"I want to draw you." Amy narrowed her eyes at Lucy in that way that meant business, and rolled over in bed to reach for her pad.
"Draw me doing what?" Lucy followed her roll, a feral grin on her lips, and tickled the back of Amy's thigh.
Amy's top half reappeared from under the bed, art supplies in hand. If she even noticed Lucy's hand inching up her leg, she ignored it. When the art took over, Amy could be almost super human that way. She tucked her knees up to rest the pad against them, and opened a box of those greasy crayons she'd brought home last week.
"Don't let those stain the sheets," Lucy warned. Not that she gave a damn about the sheets. She had more important things on her mind. Like how Amy could focus so intently on a blank piece of paper when so many better options existed, right here in this bed. And how to shift that focus to those better options.
Lucy crawled around beside her lover, and feigned interest in the as-yet-unstarted drawing.
"It's a little hard to draw a moving target. If you'll hold still, I'll make it worth your while."
"Is that so?"
That sexy smile lit up Amy's face, and she nodded. Who knew a nod could be so sexy?
"How do you want me?" Lucy encouraged her shirt to fall open just a bit. "Should I change?"
"Never." Then Amy frowned and bit her lip. "Maybe you could -- "
Lucy grinned as Amy's focus shifted, and her shirt slid a bit off her shoulder. On its own, of course. "Maybe I could."
"Lucy . . . " But Amy's heart clearly wasn't in her admonishment, because she reached forward and let her fingers play through Lucy's hair.
That was more like it.
"You should wear your hair up," Amy said.
"What's wrong with my hair?"
"Nothing. But it hides your neck, and I really want to draw your neck." Her fingers trailed down Lucy's throat, and then back up toward her ear. Then she did it again.
"Hair up," Lucy said. "Good plan."
Amy put down her pad, and Lucy grinned at the victory. Then the worst happened -- Amy got out of bed. She crossed the room and started rummaging through a dresser drawer. "Aha."
"That's the wrong drawer for ahas," Lucy said. "Those are over here. In the nightstand."
Undeterred, Amy held up her find. "This is perfect."
Lucy sighed in defeat, and let Amy fuss with her hair. "If you want to try outfits, you'd look smashing as a cowgirl."
The smile on Amy's face made up for Lucy's frustration. Amy's smile had a way of making up for an awful lot. Then Amy's fingers returned to her throat, followed by Amy's lips. Goodbye frustration.
"You really are beautiful," Amy said. And she reached for her pad again.
Lucy thought she detected a slight tremor in her hand, and she knew she wasn't mistaken about the flush on Amy's cheeks. There was no way she could just sit there and draw, not if Lucy had anything to say about it. She slid her fingers along Amy's thigh again, and watched her struggle not to squirm.
Amy's hand moved rapidly on the page, and if Lucy had been the type to recognize defeat, she certainly would have conceded, because that concentration was a thing to behold.
But Lucy had a talent for overcoming the odds. She molded herself into Amy's side, and blew on her neck. When she heard that subtle but unmistakable hitch in Amy's breath, she returned her hand to that creamy thigh and let her fingers wander.
"Lucy . . . " But Amy's eyes drifted closed, and she let Lucy take the crayon away. The pad joined it on the nightstand, and a moment later Lucy had Amy on her back, her lips parted as her body arched under Lucy's persistent touch.
"Are we done with clothes now?" Lucy asked, her hands already busy removing what little Amy wore. She loved the way Amy's skin felt beneath her fingers, and her lips. What she loved even more was that tiny sound Amy made when she kissed right there, in that cute little hollow near her hip.
She moved her lips lower still, and gloried in that reaction.
"I love you." Amy rose up on her elbows, flushed and still a little breathless. "But if I have to tie you up to draw you properly, don't think I won't."
"Oh really?" Lucy really liked that idea, but she'd make Amy work for it. "I'd like to see you try."
The next moment found her on her back, pretty much at Amy's mercy. And the drawing pad stayed on the nightstand. At least for a little while.
This transformative work constitutes a fair use of any copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. D.E.B.S.™© and related properties exist as Registered Trademarks of Angela Robinson and Screen Gems. No copyright infringement intended. No profits made here. © Spiletta42, November 2009.