misanthrope_md | for Pamela

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pamela

for Pamela

It was a short walk to House's hut (previously Cameron's hut) as he certainly hadn't been about to park his bike somewhere far away. He'd been right, he wasn't having trouble walking - in fact, being high made it a bit easier since his leg wasn't throbbing like usual. He and Pamela kept up their usual banter on the way, but mostly it was him making blind jokes and innuendos - she didn't seem to mind.

When they got there, he said, "Home sweet home. Here's the tour: bed is five paces straight in front of you."

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"Nah, I've always found it annoying when a woman wants me to look deep into her eyes during sex anyway," House says before kissing her neck. Her eyes aren't a pretty sight, it's true, but he's not bothered; the only scars he has a hang-up about are his own.

"Such a fuckin' romantic," Pamela replies dryly, not put off by it at all. She simply takes them off and holds them out. "Put them somewhere handy, honey. Can't afford to have them get broken."

House takes them and then leans over to set them carefully on his nightstand.

He turns back and looks at her and says, "This is really the first time since you lost your sight?" He slides his hands up her bare arms. "I guess I have to make it good."

"Yeah," she nods. "You better. Might put me off men altogether if you suck."

Somehow, she really doubts he'll suck. Guys his age had the experience...if they've paid attention at all throughout their lives.

"Well, I am a doctor," House pointed out, as if that meant anything. "I've got warm hands." And he unhooked her bra with barely a twist of his fingers.

Warm hands, cold heart...She's not sure why that pops into her head but is grateful it leaves just as quickly. She lets go of him long enough to shrug out of the strap and let her bra fall, too. She has a pair of doves tattooed on her chest, one on each breast.

Licking her lips, she trails her fingers over his skin lightly, noting the muscle and bone. He's definitely not bad, but she can't help but miss the fact that she can't see him.

"Nice ink," House says before sliding his hands over her breasts. "I don't have any," he adds, in case she was wondering. "My rebel streak extends solely to my bike and my disdain for authority."

He kissed her neck again and then slid his hands back down to start working on the fastenings of her jeans.

As her jeans fall open, Pamela shifts to get to her feet so she can shimmy out of them. As they come off, there's even more ink...stars on her hip bone, a tribal anklet, and a heart with roses on her ass.

"No ink? Shame," she says as she carefully steps out of her clothes and then holds her hands out to him. "Stand up, honey. No fair if I'm the only one naked."

She had a fantastic body - especially for, you know, a woman who wasn't in her twenties like it seemed like most of the people here were.

"Well, I can pretend I have some if you want," House said, taking her hands and getting carefully to his feet. He unhooked his jeans and yanked them down. "You want a mental image of Spongebob tattooed on my thigh?"

"I think I'll take a pass," she laughs, reaching out to touch his bare skin. "As long as you don't have Jesse Forever above your ass too, we're golden. Now...before I get all hot and bothered, you do have rubbers, right?"

"Sure," House said, "and you're just in time. I'd been thinking of throwing them out in a fit of depression."

He looked down at her hands and added, "Maybe it's a good thing you can't see that my boxers have Scooby Doo on them."

Actually, they were blue plaid.

"Ruh roh," she laughs, her hands moving slowly lower. "Quit fucking around about your clothes and just get out of them," she adds, then leans in and kisses where her lips meet skin.

He felt the usual stab of apprehension as he hooked his fingers into his boxers, before realizing that she couldn't actually see his scar. Well, that was probably a bonus, even if she could feel it.

He was also really fucking glad he was so stoned, because he probably didn't have to worry so much about his leg.

He shuddered a little when she kissed him; he wanted to feel her hands all over him.

The whisper of fabric over skin as they fall away tells her all she needs to know. She presses against him, body to body, and tilts her chin up. Stretching to reach, she finds his throat and kisses along the muscle and cords before sinking her teeth in lightly. Her hands run down his sides. It's kind of overwhelming, all the sounds and scents and sensations. It's different and definitely not bad.

House groans softly as his cock slides across her hip. The only stitch of clothing left between them is her panties, and he slips his hand down the front of them as he murmurs, "This is so fucking hot."

Pamela tilts her hips toward him, the touch sparking through her body.

"You bet your ass it is," she quips, the rough moaning quality to her voice taking away the sharpness of the come back. Besides, she's too busy exploring his chest with one hand and sliding the other lower to rub his cock.

"Oh Jesus," House groans as soon as her fingers wrap around his cock. And when he slides his fingers between her legs he makes another sound of appreciation.

He's starting to get unsteady on his feet at his point, so he pulls them backwards down onto the bed. His fingers probe deeper as he bends his head to flick his tongue across one of her nipples.

This day is turning out so much better than it started.

She rolls a little so she's on her side. It makes it easier to move against him and after a minute she spreads her legs and hooks one over his hip. With his fingers sliding into her she gets the distinct impression that she might be falling and so she holds on thighter.

"Fuck, yeah...there," she gasps, rolling her hips so his fingers hit just the right spot. "Do it. God...right there."

He's been told he's good with his hands, so it's always nice when someone appreciates a job well done. He's loving the sounds she's making too, and it only spurs him on. God, he loves making a woman come.

Pamela grasps at him, her fingers tight and her nails biting into his skin. She stops trying to pay attention to every little detail and just rolls with it. It's not long before she's moaning louder and shaking as her orgasm overtakes her.

As soon as House feels her come down, he kisses her hard, pulling his hand away so that he can grasp her waist with both of his hands and haul her against him.

"Jesus," she exhales, squirming to get closer. All he's done is wind her up and there's no stopping now. Pressing him back against the bed with one hand, she rolls and straddles his thighs, keeping a safe distance.

"Grab that condom...I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you."

"Thank god," House said sincerely, and stretched out as far as he could to reach the night table, finally able to pull the drawer open and snatch a condom out of it. He ripped the packet open and started to roll it on his cock just in front of where she was sitting.

She waits until he's done before wrapping her fingers around him again and giving a squeeze. She smiles as she rises and moves up, then guides him into place. She's always said that she could do this with her eyes closed...now's the moment of truth.

As she drops her weight and he fills her, it's a clear bet that she's not going to have a problem. It's just like riding a biker.

"Oh, fuck," House groans, and his eyes close as well as he finds her hips with his hands and rolls his up towards her. But then he opens them again, because hell, she looks hot like that; his eyes appreciate the decision for her to ride him as much as his leg does.

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