amireal now, stop. She is going to laugh her ass off, stop.Do I get a pony yet?
Also, first day of class today for me. I am not traumatizing myself at all thinking about it.
ETA: Random question. So say it's been--oh, years--since one wrote het sex. Is it *supposed* to feel kinky?
*confused*
...Yeah, pet.
Sounds like girl!John is going to be loads of fun. Thanks for writing this!
It could be monkey-typing-Shakespeare. I just hope it's all in the same tense. *crosses fingers*
Good luck with class.
...but seriously. Is writing het sex supposed to feel kinky? *bewildered*
I guess it can. Probably best to ask someone who has actually written het sex. While I read it occasionally, I don't recall ever writing a proper het fic ever - unless you could the Sheppard/Weir BDSM... *looks rightfully embarrassed*
Also, yay girl!John! And hush; you say it's not good and I never believe you.
On the other hand--seirously. That het sex thing was odd. I forgot some of the vocabular. There was only one penis. Very bizarre.
So say it's been--oh, years--since one wrote het sex. Is it *supposed* to feel kinky?
More than likely, yes. Have to admit you are really asking the wrong person though... *g* (quiet, threnodyjones!)
Also, this is the only pony icon I have. Sorry for using it again.
"You called me an Ancient-chasing slut. Notice how you didn't get stick-time for that one?"
He waves it off. "I was high and you were--" he stops, finishing the bottle. Joan remembers vaguely that Rodney has the alcohol tolerance of a kumquat. A teetotalling kumquat. "And then you--"
"That's my job," she says gently.
Instantly, McKay's beside her, jerking her arm up, blunt fingers tracing down the length of her forearm, over the sensitive blue skin that's the last vestige of the creature she'd been. "This isn't your job," he says, voicing biting, fingers gentle, and Joan has a sudden, uncomfortable second of--
"Oh God." Oh.
McKay drops her arm. "Um, Colonel--"
"We had practice that day, didn't we?" Because she's looking right at his mouth and remembers--oh. Fucking. Hell. "McKay--"
"It wasn't you!" His ass hits the balcony as he loses his balance, which would usually be worth a laugh, but God, she tried to *hit that*, and oh oh oh, so not good. "I mean, yes, it was you, and there was this moment in the practice room, but then you stopped--"
Joan stares at the collar of his shirt in horror. "*Is that a hickey*?"
McKay's hand goes up before he can stop himself and Joan realizes there are whole new depths of humiliation to reach, because she apparently sexually assaulted her sexual-harrassing teammate while bug-possessed, and so much moral high ground just went down the drain. "I need to lie down," she says, and suits action to words, covering her face with both hands. "And I need more alcohol."
so....
:)
*waits for it all, happy happy*
I've had a genderswitched Daniel WIPped forever -- that het sex feels kinky 'cause it's all new for him. But, you know what? If it feels kinky fgor you, then it is. ;-)
BUT I WANTS GIRL!JOHN!!!!1!1!eleventyone!!1!
lmao! I'll let you know after I'm done (recced here by
\o/
OMGYAY
So say it's been--oh, years--since one wrote het sex. Is it *supposed* to feel kinky?
Hahahaha. I think it's kind of kinky for me to be reading het now. Oh, my mind. Somehow, though, there's a difference now between my levels of normalness with my own girly-bits interactions and what's the norm for the interactions I read about, and girly bits in words is just Not Normal anymore. *boggles* The human mind is just way too strange.