Archive of Our Own ^beta

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When Alex is in bed, not willing to sleep because she's too drunk, horny or both, she sometimes thinks of Jim, and sometimes of Gene. Depending how tired she is, her finger either finds her clit, or she enjoys the heat pulsing through her body, her nipples erect and straining against the cotton sheets.

With Jim, she pictures kisses on the hand with polite acquisitions to lift her skirt, probing deft fingers. His mouth is too soft sometimes, and she has to coax him into pressing at her skin more. He cradles her during warm, lulling sex. Satisfying, like good wine.

And Gene? She's bent over his desk, his bulk and hard cock pummelling into her; blood rushes through her, and she orgasms so fast she almost miss it. It's like his scotch; hard and rough, and leaves her with her head spinning and almost unable to walk.

Yet through Jim's softness she senses dark, unknown spaces, while Gene, who holds secrets, is as blunt and direct as his fucking. Who she chooses in the end changes each night, but what she will do when it matters, without her desires leading the charge?

Before she can answer that, Alex sleeps.

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End