Kink Bingo: Wild Card!
Sep. 27th, 2012 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
escapedsnake911by: escapedsnake911
fandoms: Parks and Recreation
kinks: Wildcard!
title: Butts Butts Butts
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: M
summary/preview: Butts butts butts.
content notes: None
Leslie Knope was not a butt person. She had had plenty of boyfriends and none of their backsides had held any appeal. She had loved Dave dearly, but his posterior had been an absolute turn off. No, Leslie was not a butt person.
She was a Ben Wyatt’s butt person.
It was amazing. Skinny and flat, but with just enough padding to not be bony. Not too hairy, not too round, and attached to an amazing boyfriend. Leslie was all about that butt.
And Ben was starting to notice. He had blushed and smiled at the initial playful comments, but it seemed to be getting pretty intense. Almost full-on fetish level. Every make out session found her hands grasped firmly around his ass and pulling him forward. He squirmed every time she reached out to goose him, and just the other night she had given his butt a smack as they rushed off to the bedroom of Ben’s apartment. And the less said about the webcam sessions leading up to this longer DC visit, the better. Leslie was clearly in love with his butt. And he was in love with Leslie. A few internet searches in between sending campaign reports had yielded some intriguing ideas.
They were snuggled up on the couch together, just finishing a documentary on waterways in middle America. The making-out was light, but getting heavier as the narrator droned on. Leslie was somehow managing to simultaneously drape herself over Ben and reach beneath him, playfully digging her nails into his jeans. She murmured contented noises into his mouth, and this seemed like a good time to try out this idea. He broke the kiss and looked at her.
“Leslie, you really like my butt, right?”
She exhaled loudly.
“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can back off the butt talk. It just always looks so cute and sexy, I just want to…”
“Want to do what? If there’s something you want to do, I’m up for giving it a shot. Ever since the webcam gymnastics on my birthday, I totally owe you.”
She toyed with the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t want it to be about owing. If you’re really interested.”
“I’m interested in doing things with you, especially something you’re excited about.”
“…Okay, let’s do this.”
One late night trip to a pharmacy later, they were in Ben’s bedroom. Hopefully the night shift cashier was not up on their political minutia and would not recognize the guy buying latex gloves, nail clippers, and lube as one of Congressman Murry’s team.
Leslie stood in a pair of loose pajamas, comfortable and relaxed. His pose was a bit more tense as he stood before her in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His reassurances and bravado from before seemed to leave him as her eyes covered every part of his body.
“Take the boxers off. Lay on your stomach on the bed.”
He followed her instructions, half hard from anticipation (or half soft from nerves, depending on your perspective). He pulled back the comforter and stretched out on top of the sheets, face against the pillows and bare ass in the air.
Leslie exhaled slowly.
“That’s just beautiful. I want to take a picture and carry it with me forever.”
“Please don’t.”
“Ben, I know better than to take a picture of a political figure in a compromising position. I’m not Irene Adler.”
“I still thought Scandal in Belgravia was okay, it was-“
“The ending was stupid and sexist! But enough about infuriating British television.”
“I still think you can make the case that Irene won, because when Sherlock-“
He was silenced by the rock of the mattress as she knelt on the edge of it. One of her warm small hands rested over his left cheek, and he shuddered at the touch.
“God, you’re gorgeous.”
“Are you talking to me or my ass?”
“Yes.”
The hand continued its exploration, squeezing and gripping. She straddled his thighs and brought both hands across him. Her hands drifted lower, cupping him. Her thumbs brushed against the underside of his balls; he hissed and buried his face in the pillow. The pillow earned a bite mark when those thumbs moved higher, wedging him open.
“Leslie, Leslie, lube, remember? If we’re doing this, we need lube.”
“I know. Just give me a second like this.”
She dragged her dry hand up through the cleft, skimming over his hole with a bit of light friction. He moaned into the pillow. He hadn’t been touched like this in years (that one drunken massage night on the road with Chris did not count).
“Tell me if anything’s not okay.” She pressed her fingers pointedly over his hole.
“Lube, Leslie.”
“Yeah. And gloves. And you, you know, washed up?”
Even looking away, he could hear the blush in Leslie’s voice.
“Yes, Leslie. And you clipped your nails?”
“Yep.”
The mattress groaned as she leaned over him to the bedside table. He turned his head to watch her pulling on the gloves with a snap. She caught his eyes through her shower of blonde hair and smiled at him. Not some sort of sultry smirk, but a genuine, open, Leslie Knope “this is going to be awesome” smile.
It still managed to be incredibly sexy.
She grabbed the bottle and retreated back to the main event. The click of the cap and squelch of the gel resonated in his ears; he was alert to each wet smack of lube between her fingers.
One hand, cold and foreign in the latex, rested on his cheek. He tensed in anticipation of her other hand. But not all of the tension in the world could have prepared him for-
“Oh god, cold!”
“Sorry, sorry, my bad! I tried to warm it up, I swear!”
But already, the initial shock was wearing off. Her slicked fingers kneaded over him, pressing against the tightness.
He flopped his head back down into the pillow and just breathed. It felt interesting, and not bad, but any moment she was going to-
and that was it. Her finger slid into him, past the ring of muscle to feel inside his body.
“Oh god, Leslie, I-“
“Is this okay? Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah, it fells, uh, a little strange. But in a good way…Do you like it?”
“Oooooh yeah.” The pronouncement was punctuated by a sharp smack from her other hand.
Her fingers started working the edges of his hole, stretching and pushing. He tried to breathe, to relax, but every bit of attention was focused on her attentions. A second finger pushed inside him and spread him wide, scissoring back and forth. Leslie was making little hums of joy, like this was the only place in the world she wanted to be. He supposed he should be flattered on behalf of his ass.
The third and fourth fingers were added in quick succession as they got more comfortable and, for lack of a better phrase, into it. The stimulation was sending tension straight through his gut to his cock. He wasn’t going to come from it alone, but it did cause him to shift forward against the sheets. She pumped her fingers in and out, pounding into his open hole and making him hers. But then-
“Aah! Oh god, Ben, are you okay? Oh Lord, I’m so sorry!”
“What happened?!”
“It’s nothing, it’s just a bit of blood, not a lot, not much at all, really, I swear!”
“I’m bleeding from my ass?!?”
“Okay, okay, okay, okay, just calm down! I’m going to take off these gloves and Google some things, and you are going to look up an all-night nurse’s hotline. Here’s your laptop, you don’t even have to turn over. And you shouldn’t, because you will stain the sheets.”
The best romantic nights do not tend to involve midnight trips to the hospital. Standing in a waiting room is never fun, especially when the seat of your sweatpants is soaking up the blood that would otherwise be running down your leg. Even when the news is relatively good, when it’s a small nick in a convenient place, when it only needs antibiotics and not stitches, the event does not leave either party feeling good or amorous. It mostly just left them tired.
Two in the morning found them back on the couch, although with Ben lying over Leslie this time.
She murmured apologies as she rubbed his back.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. Never again. I won’t risk that beautiful back getting hurt anymore.”
He raised his head off of her thigh.
“Leslie, it was an accident. Granted, not a fun one, and we need to do more research and prep next time, But there can be a next time.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Considering that you found my prostate just before you had to stop, I’d say yes.”
He rested his head back down and closed his eyes. Erotic mishaps aside, just being next to her was a dream come true.
She continued rubbing his back, and drifting lower to gently caress the curve of his thin, tight, perfect ass.
Leslie Knope was definitely a Ben Wyatt’s butt person.
fandoms: Parks and Recreation
kinks: Wildcard!
title: Butts Butts Butts
pairing: Leslie/Ben
rating: M
summary/preview: Butts butts butts.
content notes: None
Leslie Knope was not a butt person. She had had plenty of boyfriends and none of their backsides had held any appeal. She had loved Dave dearly, but his posterior had been an absolute turn off. No, Leslie was not a butt person.
She was a Ben Wyatt’s butt person.
It was amazing. Skinny and flat, but with just enough padding to not be bony. Not too hairy, not too round, and attached to an amazing boyfriend. Leslie was all about that butt.
And Ben was starting to notice. He had blushed and smiled at the initial playful comments, but it seemed to be getting pretty intense. Almost full-on fetish level. Every make out session found her hands grasped firmly around his ass and pulling him forward. He squirmed every time she reached out to goose him, and just the other night she had given his butt a smack as they rushed off to the bedroom of Ben’s apartment. And the less said about the webcam sessions leading up to this longer DC visit, the better. Leslie was clearly in love with his butt. And he was in love with Leslie. A few internet searches in between sending campaign reports had yielded some intriguing ideas.
They were snuggled up on the couch together, just finishing a documentary on waterways in middle America. The making-out was light, but getting heavier as the narrator droned on. Leslie was somehow managing to simultaneously drape herself over Ben and reach beneath him, playfully digging her nails into his jeans. She murmured contented noises into his mouth, and this seemed like a good time to try out this idea. He broke the kiss and looked at her.
“Leslie, you really like my butt, right?”
She exhaled loudly.
“Look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can back off the butt talk. It just always looks so cute and sexy, I just want to…”
“Want to do what? If there’s something you want to do, I’m up for giving it a shot. Ever since the webcam gymnastics on my birthday, I totally owe you.”
She toyed with the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t want it to be about owing. If you’re really interested.”
“I’m interested in doing things with you, especially something you’re excited about.”
“…Okay, let’s do this.”
One late night trip to a pharmacy later, they were in Ben’s bedroom. Hopefully the night shift cashier was not up on their political minutia and would not recognize the guy buying latex gloves, nail clippers, and lube as one of Congressman Murry’s team.
Leslie stood in a pair of loose pajamas, comfortable and relaxed. His pose was a bit more tense as he stood before her in a T-shirt and boxer shorts. His reassurances and bravado from before seemed to leave him as her eyes covered every part of his body.
“Take the boxers off. Lay on your stomach on the bed.”
He followed her instructions, half hard from anticipation (or half soft from nerves, depending on your perspective). He pulled back the comforter and stretched out on top of the sheets, face against the pillows and bare ass in the air.
Leslie exhaled slowly.
“That’s just beautiful. I want to take a picture and carry it with me forever.”
“Please don’t.”
“Ben, I know better than to take a picture of a political figure in a compromising position. I’m not Irene Adler.”
“I still thought Scandal in Belgravia was okay, it was-“
“The ending was stupid and sexist! But enough about infuriating British television.”
“I still think you can make the case that Irene won, because when Sherlock-“
He was silenced by the rock of the mattress as she knelt on the edge of it. One of her warm small hands rested over his left cheek, and he shuddered at the touch.
“God, you’re gorgeous.”
“Are you talking to me or my ass?”
“Yes.”
The hand continued its exploration, squeezing and gripping. She straddled his thighs and brought both hands across him. Her hands drifted lower, cupping him. Her thumbs brushed against the underside of his balls; he hissed and buried his face in the pillow. The pillow earned a bite mark when those thumbs moved higher, wedging him open.
“Leslie, Leslie, lube, remember? If we’re doing this, we need lube.”
“I know. Just give me a second like this.”
She dragged her dry hand up through the cleft, skimming over his hole with a bit of light friction. He moaned into the pillow. He hadn’t been touched like this in years (that one drunken massage night on the road with Chris did not count).
“Tell me if anything’s not okay.” She pressed her fingers pointedly over his hole.
“Lube, Leslie.”
“Yeah. And gloves. And you, you know, washed up?”
Even looking away, he could hear the blush in Leslie’s voice.
“Yes, Leslie. And you clipped your nails?”
“Yep.”
The mattress groaned as she leaned over him to the bedside table. He turned his head to watch her pulling on the gloves with a snap. She caught his eyes through her shower of blonde hair and smiled at him. Not some sort of sultry smirk, but a genuine, open, Leslie Knope “this is going to be awesome” smile.
It still managed to be incredibly sexy.
She grabbed the bottle and retreated back to the main event. The click of the cap and squelch of the gel resonated in his ears; he was alert to each wet smack of lube between her fingers.
One hand, cold and foreign in the latex, rested on his cheek. He tensed in anticipation of her other hand. But not all of the tension in the world could have prepared him for-
“Oh god, cold!”
“Sorry, sorry, my bad! I tried to warm it up, I swear!”
But already, the initial shock was wearing off. Her slicked fingers kneaded over him, pressing against the tightness.
He flopped his head back down into the pillow and just breathed. It felt interesting, and not bad, but any moment she was going to-
and that was it. Her finger slid into him, past the ring of muscle to feel inside his body.
“Oh god, Leslie, I-“
“Is this okay? Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah, it fells, uh, a little strange. But in a good way…Do you like it?”
“Oooooh yeah.” The pronouncement was punctuated by a sharp smack from her other hand.
Her fingers started working the edges of his hole, stretching and pushing. He tried to breathe, to relax, but every bit of attention was focused on her attentions. A second finger pushed inside him and spread him wide, scissoring back and forth. Leslie was making little hums of joy, like this was the only place in the world she wanted to be. He supposed he should be flattered on behalf of his ass.
The third and fourth fingers were added in quick succession as they got more comfortable and, for lack of a better phrase, into it. The stimulation was sending tension straight through his gut to his cock. He wasn’t going to come from it alone, but it did cause him to shift forward against the sheets. She pumped her fingers in and out, pounding into his open hole and making him hers. But then-
“Aah! Oh god, Ben, are you okay? Oh Lord, I’m so sorry!”
“What happened?!”
“It’s nothing, it’s just a bit of blood, not a lot, not much at all, really, I swear!”
“I’m bleeding from my ass?!?”
“Okay, okay, okay, okay, just calm down! I’m going to take off these gloves and Google some things, and you are going to look up an all-night nurse’s hotline. Here’s your laptop, you don’t even have to turn over. And you shouldn’t, because you will stain the sheets.”
The best romantic nights do not tend to involve midnight trips to the hospital. Standing in a waiting room is never fun, especially when the seat of your sweatpants is soaking up the blood that would otherwise be running down your leg. Even when the news is relatively good, when it’s a small nick in a convenient place, when it only needs antibiotics and not stitches, the event does not leave either party feeling good or amorous. It mostly just left them tired.
Two in the morning found them back on the couch, although with Ben lying over Leslie this time.
She murmured apologies as she rubbed his back.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie. Never again. I won’t risk that beautiful back getting hurt anymore.”
He raised his head off of her thigh.
“Leslie, it was an accident. Granted, not a fun one, and we need to do more research and prep next time, But there can be a next time.”
“Really? Are you sure?”
“Considering that you found my prostate just before you had to stop, I’d say yes.”
He rested his head back down and closed his eyes. Erotic mishaps aside, just being next to her was a dream come true.
She continued rubbing his back, and drifting lower to gently caress the curve of his thin, tight, perfect ass.
Leslie Knope was definitely a Ben Wyatt’s butt person.
