Falice: From A to Z

Ruined II

Summary: It's FP's turn

Rating: Still M. Still NSFW

Genre: Still smut.

~~Ruined II~~

"Come on, Alice!" FP's fist pounds against the red door. With his other hand, he balances a large paper bag and a tray with two milkshakes. Normally he'd have gone to the Wyrm but now that he's boycotting it, he has nowhere else to go to watch the match."Open up!"

He waits anxiously for her, and right when he thinks that maybe she's not actually home, maybe she went for a walk or something, the door flies open to reveal a fuming Alice Cooper.

"What happened?"

"I need to use your tv," FP says as he shoves his way past the red door. "I have good money riding on this."

"You almost broke down my front door to watch television ? You said it was important!" Alice cries and she slams the door. "What is wrong with you?"

"It is important!" he insists. "The Serpents have a FIFA pool and my team is playing right now."

Alice rubs her temples. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey, I brought you tribute," FP drops the bag on the coffee table and starts unpacking the food. "Are you feeling okay? You look flushed."

Her bangs are sticking to her forehead and there is sweat glistening across her bare chest.

"I'm fine," Alice crosses her arms. "It's just hot."

He accepts this and flops onto the couch. Searching for the remote under the cushions, doesn't notice the panic in her blue eyes.

His hand touches something, only it isn't a television remote. It's not even plastic.

It's cotton.

He pulls it from the cushion.

It's underwear, and judging by its wetness, it is still fresh.

His eyes widen as he realizes what Alice had been doing before he interrupted her.

FP drops it as if he was burned and jumps back to his feet. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I should have called first."

"I- FP-" Alice slides into a chair, and buries her head in her hands as if that would help her disappear.

"No need to be embarrassed. You have biological needs, and masturbation is perfectly normal behaviour." He's rambling now and refuses to look at her. "I should probably go. Let you... finish whatever it was that you were doing."

Alice groans. "Please stop talking. You're making this worse."

"Sorry," he stammers. "I'll just let myself out."

"Just go, FP! Let me die of embarrassment in peace."

He doesn't need to be told twice.

-

The soccer match long forgotten, FP finds himself heading to his trailer, ignoring the nods of acknowledgment of the Serpents living in the tent city outside his window.

He feels ridiculous. He is a grown ass man, not a teenager. He's supposed to be past such trivial nonsense. Most people masturbate, he knows this. Hell, he's been turning to her more frequently as of late. But to hold the evidence of her arousal in his hands, even for the briefest of moments, has FP wound up so tightly he thought he was going to burst on the ride home.

He wonders if she thinks of him like he thinks of her.

He wonders what it would be like to bend Alice over her dining room table and take her from behind. Or to slip a hand up her skirt and push her panties to the side in a booth at Pop's with half the town within earshot.

Sometimes in the middle of the night when he can't help himself, FP wonders what it would be like to have her straddling him on a king sized bed, surrounded by rose petals and candles, kissing him over and over again while telling him how much she loves him.

But he won't think of that. Not today. Not this time.

He shuts the bedroom door and pulls his jeans down to his knees before sitting on the edge of his mattress. With a resigned sigh, FP closes his eyes and slips his hand through the slit in his boxers.

He tells himself he'd do this quickly and quietly to avoid the weird pang in his chest he gets whenever he thinks about Alice for too long. However, the images he begin playing in his mind involve Librarian Alice with her dark-rimmed glasses and tight pencil skirt he's itching to pull up around her waist.

FP continues to stroke himself as time ceases to exist and his brain is almost completely shut down. Soon, the only things on FP'S mind are the thought of her breasts and how they bounced as they fucked on his couch that day.

He can feel himself approaching the abyss. It's like climbing a mountain, approaching a volcano full of hot light and right when FP thinks he can't take it anymore -

The sharp ringing of his phone pulls him out of his fantasy and into reality.

He thinks about ignoring it, but then it rings again and again in the kitchen and the little voice in his head tells him to answer because what if it's important?

"What?" he growls into the receiver.

"It's me."

At the sound of her voice, FP almost drops the phone.

"Alice?" His erection strains against his boxers. "This isn't really a good time..."

"I'll be quick! I just wanted to apologize for earlier."

"You don't have to apologize," he closes his eyes and sinks down on a chair and wills his erection to dissipate.

"I should have let you stay and watch."

"What?" His dick twitches at her words. He can't possibly have heard her right.

"I was just so embarrassed to have been caught," she says. "Croatia is winning by the way."

Oh right. The match.

"That's okay," he manages to choke out. "There will be others."

"Are you okay, FP? You sound like you're out of breath."

"I was just doing some push-ups," he lies. "Trying to hit a new PR."

"There's still some time left in the game," Alice pauses and he wonders if the line was disconnected. "You should come."

His breath hitches. "What?"

They are still talking about soccer, right?

"Come over, FP. I know how much you wanted to see the game."

"Alice-" he groans. She must know what she is doing to him.

"Please, FP. I would have called if I didn't want you to."

FP sighs and rubs his temple. This is a bad idea. But he's had a lifetime of making bad decisions. What's one more?

"Fine."