A Present
DISCLAIMER 2: In fic land fantasy rules, anything is possible; everything is good and generally works out the way you want it to. Eventually...
Extra Info: This was written as a birthday present for someone. I have permission to post it here. But when you read it, imagine you have long hair or else it won't work. My first proper attempt at a Denby fic, I tried...
FEEDBACK: To kathb
You are sitting in a bar drinking your favourite drink. A man cuts in besides you and orders a scotch. He waits impatiently and you notice he looks as though he's already had a few. You turn around suddenly and feel a tug in your hair. As you look to see where it is caught, you realise that he is caressing a tendril, twisting it around a finger. Once he feels your gaze on him, he stops and looks up, but doesn't let go.
"I apologise. I have no excuse but it was just to tempting. I wanted to see if it was as silky as it looks."
"And?" You ask, with an eyebrow arched.
"It's magnificent, and smells divine." "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me buy you a drink." He offers.
"That's the least you can do," you grumble. "But I don't accept drinks from strangers. What's your name?"
"Just call me Denby," he replies.
You find yourself attracted to this man with the possible hair fetish and decide to carry on talking to him.
"Ok Denby, I'll have another one of these, the bartender knows what, and do you often go around teasing women's hair?"
"I find myself at a loss to explain myself. I guess I had an urge..."
"Do you often give in to your urges?" You find yourself asking.
He stares into the bottom of his refilled glass of scotch and sighs. "Now more than ever. I need someone to keep me on track. There was someone once, but now..." he fades off and gulps down half the scotch.
You finish the drink and start the next one. And decide to give into an urge of your own.
"So Denby," you start to ask as you take hold of the hand still caressing your hair. "If I told you I had a fantasy about a man burying his head in my hair and nuzzling the back of my neck, would you be the man to fulfil it?"
He raises your hand to his lips and kisses it. It sends a frisson of pleasure running through you. As his eyes meet yours you see his desire for you in them. You take hold of his hand, and lead Denby out of the bar.
Back at your place you head for the bedroom and both strip down to your underwear. Then Denby confesses something.
"I don't know if I'm going to be able to give you what you want."
"What do you mean?" you ask as you walk up to him.
"I can't always give pleasure when I want to. The mind is willing but the flesh is weak, and Denby's love affair with alcohol takes its toll. "
"Oh. I'm sorry." You reply, not knowing what else to say.
"There's no stirring tonight. Your pleasure is enough for me."
Denby draws you onto his lap and starts kissing you and stroking your hair. You respond by kissing him back and exploring his shoulders and chest. He starts nipping at your neck, inhaling your scent and you start whimpering with need, not quite knowing what you want.
"Touch me." You moan.
Denby responds by slowly peeling off your underwear and carefully lying you down on the bed. He slowly starts exploring your body, his lips following his hands. Your skin becomes sensitised to his touch and tremors radiate out from his caresses.
When he reaches the base of your stomach, he becomes unsure and stops.
You meet his gaze and whisper, "Please, Denby."
You kiss again and he crushes your body to his. He then breathes in the scent of your hair and you cradle his head. Denby sighs as he sits up and pulls you onto his lap again. He lowers his head and starts licking and teasing your breasts. You then gasp as his hand moves lower and brushes your curls. His finger gently strokes you, slowly working closer and closer towards your core.
You start to buck against him, his teasing feeling so good and yet driving you crazy.
"Denby!" You groan as you pull his head up to meet your gaze. "Finish it, please."
"You want this?" He teases as he taps his finger directly on your clitoris and you cry out and arch against him.
"Yes. More," you cry out.
As he continues to stroke you directly, you rock upwards to meet him and he starts to murmur soothing words to you. His fingers move faster as you start to buck against him, grasping his shoulders as you try and grind yourself into him. You start moaning as you feel your orgasm building and collapse in Denby's arms shuddering as it finally breaks.
He pulls your hair away from your face and lowers you to the bed. You cuddle up spoon fashion and gradually go to sleep.
You wake up in the morning before Denby and study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful, so relaxed; the antithesis of his normal self. You also notice he has an impressive erection. So you straddle his legs, run your fingers through his hair and gently kiss him 'Good Morning'.
"How's your head?"
Denby opens his eyes, blinks and stares at you. "Well my brain isn't functioning yet but otherwise pretty good. I've known a lot, lot worse, that is of the times I can remember. At least the room isn't spinning."
"Can you cope with a morning workout?"
"Huh?" he asks in confusion.
"Well I'd like to put this to good use." You tease as you stroke his erection.
So you do...
The End.