Disclaimer: Della Street and Perry are not mine but I love when they are happy. This is them being happy somewhen in the early TV movie timeline. :) I completely blame startwriting for this scene, as well as songs like "I Wanna Know What Love Is", "Holding Out For a Hero", "Show Me Heaven" and "Total Eclipse of the Heart". Yes, I did listen to an 80s music marathon on the radio the other day...
She felt the rhythm reaching her legs when she exited the bathroom on naked feet. The radio was playing one of those songs Paul loved to listen to in his car. The beat was fast, the basses strong, the lyrics romantic in a modern way, expressing feelings she wouldn't mention to anyone but the man she loved. They created a smile she couldn't wipe away as the energy of the music filled her pores, her heart, her gut – the kind of smile she knew could drive Perry crazy. She closed her eyes and moved to the stimulating rhythm, swaying her hips the way she often had back in the days. With his bathrobe hugging her form, she felt beautiful and tiny, a feeling she always savored when she was lying protected in his arms. Dancing through the room now, she also felt young and weightless, recalling his face in her mind, his mischievous smile, his tender eyes. When the song ended, it was followed by a softer tune, suddenly reminding her of how it had been to fall in love with him more than three decades ago. How his touch had made her shiver with internal heat, how her heart had beaten so fast she had nearly fainted.
It was the way he kissed her that still made her swoon, the way he teased and challenged her at the office. Only he knew how to make her tremble, how to sweep her off her feet. That soft demand for access when he brought his lips to hers, his tickling fingers unwrapping her from her lingerie. She loved to hear him moan her name, his voice deep and labored long before she brought him to the brink. She didn't know how natural it was for others, but for her it felt good to still make love to him, to embrace their knowledge of each other and that quiet rhythm they had established between them. She loved to be in charge sometimes these days, to take control of him and feel his gaze glued on her, her eyes, her skin – his hands rejuvenating her curves and hips, his mouth still skillful when he enjoyed her breasts. Della blushed at the thoughts the music stirred up in her and felt aroused by the sudden vibration of his voice that sounded sleepily from their bed.
"What's that noise?" Perry grumbled as he turned on his side, his arm half flung over his head.
"It's music, chief," Della corrected him, aspirating the nickname she only used when she was in the mood for starting a fire between them.
Moving his arm enough to look at her with squinted eyes, the attorney drank in the sight of her moving seductively to a song she knew the lyrics to without singing them. Annoyed by the hammering beats but aroused by the effect the rhythm had on his head of office, Perry shifted fully onto his back to invite her to continue her dance on top of him. Welcoming his wordless offer, Della slowly loosened the belt of his bathrobe and allowed it to slowly glide down her arms onto the floor, the fabric caressing the curves Perry so evidently wished to fondle with his very own hands. Reaching out his hand to help her climb onto their bed, Perry smiled in that way that always shot right through her, igniting a feeling of warmth and pleasure before he even started touching her.
"Paul will be here any minute now," Della whispered, unwilling to stop herself from spoiling him into the day.
"The boy can wait," Perry Mason whispered as he moved his palm from her derrière over her hips and waist up to her back and neck. When he finally cupped her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb, Della leaned down to kiss him and smiled when his body reacted before he could even moan her name.
"If this is what that noise is doing to you, baby," Perry groaned as her hands played with his chest hair, the firm softness of her fingers driving him mad. "I won't mind waking up to it more often."
Della smiled, her eyes wicked and full of life. "It is bewitching somehow."
"So are you," he whispered as he encouraged her to have her way with him.
Broadening her smile, she leaned down again to answer his desire, her body now fully pressed against his to ignite a brute sparkle that urged him to seize her. Unable to just overwhelm and ravish her, his knee making it impossible to roll on top the way he used to, he groaned in frustration while motioning her hips in position for him to fill her with pleasure and meet his needs along the way. When she welcomed his move, Perry whispered her name and closed his eyes to the ardency of her embrace, indulging in the warmth she provided for him so lovingly. Feeling her hips rocking him to the sound of their own breathing, Perry relished the mix of gasps and words she coddled him with in the absence of the deafening music. He always loved the richness of her voice when they made love – her quiet lack of inhibition when they spoiled each other from the inside out, the way she whispered to spur him on, never demanding but begging him not to stop. Her skin always blushed before release, her breathing halted until his name escaped her lips in a muffled howl that was so pristine he couldn't help but let go of his last reserve.
It was the scent of her glistening skin, the afterglow of their gloried fervor that filled his heart with so much love he always wondered if one day it would grow larger. Holding her to him as she collapsed, he brushed his lips over her curly head and smiled when he found her drifting off to sleep. Her breathing calm now against his chest, her body so comfortably tucked away in his embrace, he caressed her naked curves and covered her with his blanket. Following her into a lazy morning slumber, he indulged in the feeling of her arms drowsily moving around his torso, reviving memories of the days when he had been young enough to debauch her twice into the day.