The Trouble with J. Mendel
Rated M for smutty smutty times. Dirty talk, semi-public sex. Post series finale/pre-flashforward.
Why did he do this to himself? Chuck tugged on his cuffs and gave the gaggle of chatty men a weak smile. His eyes flicked left to catch a glimpse of his wife, miles away, on the other side of the ballroom. How long had they been at this cursed party? How had she gotten so far away from him?
Her back was to him; those curves alone were enough to make him want to lick his champagne glass in frustration. That's when it finally snapped in his mind which designer had made that dress. Bitch. She knew what wearing J. Mendel did to him- what it reminded him of. His whole body throbbed, watching as she pushed the cascade of silky curls over her shoulder while his mind replayed tearing the red and black J. Mendel from her body on her 20th birthday.
He curtly excused himself from the group and fought to casually journey across the expanse of the ballroom to his siren without encountering another wayfarer. His successful voyage ended when his fingers curled around her cool arm and turning, her eyes met his.
The ladies behind her giggled, "There's a Bass on the loose tonight."
"Lucky for you, I caught him ages ago." Blair then gave the women a small wave as they turned and walked away. "You do look dangerous tonight and it's more than your new Tom Ford."
She reached up and smoothed her hand over his lapel, surely blinding anyone sneaking a look at them with the light bouncing off her ring.
"Are you punishing me for being distracted earlier? Because I think you know exactly what you're doing wearing that dress."
"Punishing you? You mean for coming home late, making me wait for you to dress, and then how you were on the phone during the drive? Who's being punished here?"
With a firm tug to her arm, Chuck pulled Blair into coat check. Wrapping his arms around her, they became lost in a sea of furs and fabric as much as they became lost in each other. Kissing, fingers tugging on clothing in a sort of frantic desperation, the clink of his belt opening, the sound of the zip of her dress sliding down. A growl of determination, he shoved her against the wall, breaking their kiss. Free from hugging her body, the top of the dress came loose and dripped down her arms. They were both panting, her eyes were bright with passion. In a seeming show of gentility, Chuck gently released her arms from the loosened dress, upping the intense heat growing between them. He savored forcing them to pause like this, driving them that much more insane in their lust.
Chuck then held his hand out to her. "Panties."
He enjoyed watching her bend down, her breasts spilling out of her silky strapless bra while she retrieved his prize from under the soft layers of black and white. By the time she had wiggled free, he had fully opened his trousers. He tucked the surrendered item into his jacket pocket.
"Now," His hand wrapped around his cock, helping him dissipate the tense desire consuming his body, "Pull your dress up. Lean back and show me how wet you are for me."
As he watched her inch the dress up higher and higher, Chuck swore she had learned to command the deceitfully innocent blush on her cheeks and the wide eyes she was giving him. But years have past since he tainted her innocence with his hunger for her: sinful, covetous, and at the time, an unobtainable dream.
That dream now stood before him, legs parted, pink and dewy with her desire for him, wearing his ring. His restraint began cracking, though he struggled to keep holding on.
"Is that all for me, Blair?"
Her reply was to release a fist full of fabric and draw his unoccupied hand to touch where she ached to feel him. "All yours, Chuck. Please." He watched her lower lip tremble, "I need-"
They needed the same thing. In an instant, he had shoved her leg up and back and pushed into her. An uncontrolled cry of pleasure escaped her as he held himself there, buried deep in the love of his life. "Shh. You don't want to lose the game do you?"
She tightened around him in a delighted welcome. For all her elegance and polish, Blair had always loved a good game and had never been afraid of getting dirty. Luckily for Chuck that applied in the bedroom as well. Semi-public sex was already a favorite, the risk of discovery. But add in the need for control, for quiet, while Chuck did his worst? He felt his cock flex inside her in excitement.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she challenged him. "If you think you'll last long enough to break me."
"Break you?" He ever so slowly began pulling out, "Isn't that what you were trying to do to me this morning, before my meeting?"
Chuck smiled at her, as she stood pinned between him and the wall, her lips parted, her eyes pleading what her voice could not. She grasped around him, desperate that the head of his cock not leave her. So he lingered there, small nudges in, equally small retreats, as he continued his protest.
"Sauntering around our bedroom in that black lacey bra and underwear while I tried to dress." A smile crept onto her face. "And heaven forbid I turned my back on that sinful scene. How dare I control myself."
His hips rocked forward hard, shoving him deep inside her fast, without abandon. Her smile dropped away as her mouth fell open in a soundless cry, her hands fisting tighter into his shirt. His withdrawal was once again intensely slow, but this time he continued, pushing back into her tightness at the same agonizing speed, in his revenge.
"I finished dressing to find what?"
Even in his torment, behind the hazy lust he saw in her eyes, Blair's gaze was unapologetic.
"The temptress I married spread out on our bed.
Her hand buried between her legs, blissfully stroking herself.
Right when I should be leaving the house."
Chuck let himself slide out of her, the length of his cock now free to slip through her juicy folds, stimulating, but maddeningly unsatisfying for her.
"Even buried in work all day, the memory of you moaning and shuddering under my kiss goodbye left me hard and aching for you. You left me to imagine how you finished fucking yourself to orgasm in our marriage bed when I could not. When I should be."
He tugged her bra down, wrapping a hand around her breasts and teasing her nipples.
"And now, we're here. At another damned society event."
His hand crept up from her breast, up her neck, lifting her head high, forcing her chin up and her eyes to stare into his.
"I'd rather be in our bed, having you every which way I like. All night long. But," His other hand grasped her thigh a little harder, pressed it into the wall more. "I can at least sate a little of my torment."
The immense wetness coating him made it so simple, so easy, for him to slam himself up into her body. Much to his dismay, Blair didn't cry out. The only sound was her breath rushing from her at the shock of his sudden invasion. Invasion. Chuck smiled at himself. Onslaught was more like it. The power of his thrusts was unabated, true to his promise of sating his torment. He watched as Blair lost the fight to keep her eyes open. The soft roundness of her breasts surged and rose with the force of his body meeting hers.
One of her hands gave up its anchor in his shirt to reach out for one of the thick, plush fur coats next to them. Her back arched as she fought herself, to hold back her voice, to hold back her pleasure. Shaking her head, she jerked the coat from its hanger in frustration, taking several of its fellow furry compatriots with it as it fell to the floor.
Chuck felt the first tremor of her orgasm surround him. However, his revenge was not yet complete. His hands dropping away, he stepped back, taking his wife's pleasure with him. Revenge? Well, he also wanted to win.
The rage in Blair's voice would curl the hair of a weaker soul. "Chuck!"
Entirely unfazed, he took her arm and dropped her into the sofa pile of furs with him. Fully claiming her atop coats belong to the socialites that kept him away from home seemed like the perfect conclusion to his frustration. The swirl of white, grey, brown, and black raised the contrast of Blair's pink cheeks. The sweetness of it was too tempting. How could he not kiss her?
She bit his lip. Hard. He growled and opening his eyes, he saw the pink in her cheeks did not match the fire in her eyes.
"I want my orgasm back, you Basstard."
Her legs wrapped around his back, pulling his hips towards her. He complied, sinking back into her heavenly warmth. The pulse of desire throbbed in his mind in time with his possessive thought: mine, mine, mine. Blair rocked back against him in search of the pleasureful climb. Repenting a little, he shifted his hips just so, the angle and the pressure as he filled her tuned perfectly to send a fission of pleasure through his love. He withdrew. And did it again.
She squirmed and dragged her nails down his back.
And again. Harder.
Harder. Even faster.
She trembled beneath him in orgasm, her body calling his to surrender. But he had been cruel and she deserved better from him. He wanted her to leave here with stars in her eyes. And maybe a little sore. He shifted once more to slip his hand down between them, to stroke her passion even higher.
Blair's hips bucked against him in response. She begged, "I can't," panting, "not more."
"Yes, more." He watched her closely as he urged her on, "This is how babies are made. And our child will be born of love and lust. If you want me, draw it from me with another orgasm, Blair."
He drove into her with even greater purpose, their eyes meeting for a hazy moment. A small touch. A soft kiss. The need burning deep inside him began to slip loose. Her breath came in long gasps as she climbed higher.
Chuck whispered in her ear, soft, but forceful. A desperate command. "Again."
He groaned as Blair buried her face in his shirt to muffle her cry. Their bodies stuttered and fell through orgasm together. The uneven thrusts of his hips, their length and measure, matched that of the essence pouring from him.
Blair was recalcitrant in untangling from him. Her only movement was to turn her buried face into nuzzling against his chest and neck until her lips eventually found their way back to his. He hoped it would press his desire to go home as he happily kissed her back while caressing her body.
He murmured, "Let me take you to bed."
"I suppose we did break in your new tux?" She reasoned, adding half a grin.
They finally pulled apart and began redressing.
He simply replied, "And J. Mendel will never be safe on you."
Blair had successfully put the dress back in order. "At least this one is still in one piece."
Chuck raised cocked an eyebrow in warning, "For now."
AN: Thanks to my bestie Shawn (SnowedUnderNJ) for prompting me on this one. Semi-public sex at a party, plus the J. Mendel from when we had discussed her horror at that poor dress being defiled by Chuck. Sure, S, sure... But truly, thank you for help with my writers block. It felt good to get something on the page. Hopefully it was a good smutty something, yes?