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Yes, I did in fact stop in the middle of a dialog tag.

If you've got any suggestions re: terms of address, as is being discussed when I abruptly stopped writing because I had no idea where I was going, please do share. Batting around "My Lady" for Molly, but goddamn what is there to call a male sub (or, frankly, a female one, but that's less relevant just now) that isn't infantilizing? I can't really see Molly calling Greg "boy". Though, feel free to change my mind.




She smiled down at the back of his head, stroking the fingers of her free hand through his hair. "You're lovely," she told him, indulging herself in the textures of the strands. "I don't want to come just now, though. Isn't there anything else you want?"

His shoulders sagged a bit. "I want to please you,"

"Oh, Greg." She nudged him back to upright, taking his face between both hands. "You do please me. I am unquantifiably pleased with you." She kissed him, encouraging his arms around her waist, encouraging his tongue in her mouth.

"Mm," he sighed into the kiss, and then he drew away to say, "You like me in clothes."

"Hmm?"

"Three times now we've had sex, and I haven't been naked for any of them. You've only been naked for one."

"What can I say? You dress well." Molly pushed Greg's shirt off his shoulders. "Maybe I also have a thing for sofa sex. Would you like to get naked and move to the bedroom?" She leaned in close, mouthing at his neck and wrapping her arm around his chest, making sure her sleeve touched his skin. "All my skin and all your skin, and all my slick on your thighs or belly or face, and I'll let you put your hands wherever you want to."



"You're amazing," Greg said, panting.

"So are you," Molly answered, smiling.

"I never thought..."

She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. "Hmm?"

He shrugged. "Well. All... this. You just never seemed... the type."

Molly giggled. "I never thought I would be the type. It's good, though. I love the--"

She cut herself off. Yes, she'd always fallen hard and quickly, but they'd only been together a few weeks. His divorce was less than six months old. Surely it was far too soon the be tossing around the L-word, even if she wasn't linking it directly to him.

"Molly?"

She smiled and kissed him. "I really like the way you look at me," she explained.

He nuzzled his face into her shoulder. "Is there anything you'd like to be called, while we're...?"

"Called?"

"You know." His face wasn't where she could see it, and he spoke mockingly, as though the idea he were presenting were absurd. "'Yes, Mistress', or Ma'am, or, well, whatever."

Molly found herself making a face, and was glad that Greg had hidden his; it meant he couldn't see hers. She carefully straightened her features before she spoke. "Is there something you'd like to call me?" She paused, and added, "Or that you'd like me to call you?"

Greg nuzzled his face deeper into the soft flesh of her shoulder. "I thought maybe.




As today ends I am 1202 behind; as tomorrow begins I need to write 2868 to catch up. Considering how I couldn't even open a doc today that I wanted anything to do with, that's looking less and less likely.

I wasn't going to care if I didn't win this month; after all, I already made my year's goal, and NNWM is a less-than-helpful exercise for me these days. But it's still disappointing to be failing so badly, so quickly.
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The Lap Otter

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