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365 Old Shames	By : megadeth425 Category: Pokemon > Het - Male/Female Views: 2683 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon and make no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-365 Old Shames
- 1
“You have nothing to read,” Grimsley muttered, dragging his finger slowly along a row of spines, his eyes following and failing to find anything he wanted to read.

“Of course I do,” Shauntal said, not turning to face him. “I use book cases like wallpaper. You're just too picky.” She lay on prone on her bed, fingers clacking away at the keys on her laptop, making letters appear on the blank canvas of her word processor. They came together to form words, which she mouthed and occasionally said low under her breath.

Erika always seemed so demure and gentle, acting as a lady should and always keeping herself composed. Janine thought it was that factor, along with the potential hope that how proper she was would rub off on her, that led to her father giving Erika his blessing to take her out on a date.

That politesse had vanished, though, on Erika's floor. It surprised Janine how forward she was, how eagerly the finders ran up her toned stomach, how Erika's lips attacked her jawline hungrily. It was a total shock to experience, and it only furthered Janine's confusion about the entire matter.

“Most of these books are trash and you know it,” he said. He'd come over earlier than expected, finding Shauntal still hammering away at her latest story, and tried to find ways to occupy himself until their dinner reservations. He knew very few things would tear her away from her writing, and chief among them would probably make them late for dinner if they got carried away with it. They always got carried away with that.

He turned back to face her and heavily considered it for a moment, though. It was something to do, and it would likely get to write much faster if he simply engaged in some light teasing. Then, his finger found air, and his eyes snapped toward the shelf again in surprise. Below his finger, which had been positioned fairly high, was a squat, thick book that lay shorter than a usual paperback. It was red, bearing the title “365 Tips SEX”, with the last word taking up more than half of the spine.

Pulling it out with eager curiosity, he found the proper title to be “365 Sex Tips”. A smile crept over his face. An amused, cruel smile that slowly turned toward the girl lying on the bed. “Shauntal, darling,” he asked in a deep tone, one that immediately alarmed her. It was his mocking voice. “Why do you have this book in your library?”

Turning to face him, Shauntal's face flashed briefly with surprise, but she quickly hid it. After all, Grimsley used everything as a weapon, and if she played it off as nothing, he might well put it back and move on. “I don't know. Remember that used book store that went out of business, that I bought the leftover stock from? Probably one of the books I got from there.”

“Perhaps,” he said, leaning against the wall and opening it. “Or, it was a secret purchase by a sheepish young virgin who, despite not knowing the first thing about sex, wanted to write about it. But she was fourteen, shy, and nerdy. Even if she were stupid enough to throw away her virginity just for the sake of research, none of the boys she liked even knew about it. So she read up on it at the library, but all of those were biology textbooks, which aside from a little anatomical knowledge, did nothing for her. They were too scientific and emotionless, and she needed to understand the raw passion involved.

“It was risky, but she bought it instead. Took some of her allowance and grabbed a book off the shelf. A couple random pages, and it seemed to paint a decent picture about passion and all those intangibles that got her breathing heavy when she thought about them. So she bought it, took it home, used it for a few years.

“And now, a fully-grown adult with plenty of notches in her bedpost, a steady boyfriend, and a few regular flings on the side feels ashamed of her need for reference material, and tries to shrug it off in ignorance.”

Shauntal looked back at the laptop, and in frustration switched to another of the five documents she had open of in-progress stories “That's pretty good,” she said as she scanned the last few paragraphs to get a handle on where she was going with it again, hoping focus on it would keep her face from going bright red. He was amiss on a few details, but had nailed the general idea so horrifyingly well that she tried to remember if she had drunkenly told him the story before. “Maybe you should try writing, too.”

“Oh, certainly not. I rather like being able to walk down the street and seeing a couple on a date without getting 'that look' on my face.” He opened the book and smirked. Speaking loudly, he read off the first page, “'Try to discover which music brings you the most pleasure,'” before returning to his sardonic tone. “Darling, I think our sex life will only be fully realized if we can make love to the Monster Mash.”

Taking a deep breath, Shauntal tried to ignore him. She was going to finish something that afternoon, she'd promised herself, and even Grimsley being an extra large git would not shake her. She was stronger-willed than him, so long as he kept his fingers to himself, and maybe if she fought him off this time, he'd give up for a day or two and she could focus. It wasn't likely, but getting huffy would do nothing to help matters.

Skyla moaned heavily, pressing her chest out into Black's hungry hands. “I guess I know what you like?” she said in a voice that attempted to be sultry, but didn't do nearly as good a job as she'd wanted to. She sounded too inexperienced, and even though she wasn't, she worried she wouldn't get to fully enjoy the night with the brunette from Nuvema if nerves got the better of her. “Would you like to see them?” This time, it was a little better, a little more confident, but still not enough.

Black nodded slowly, squeezing them in silent anticipation. He'd hardly said a word all night, and how his lips were too busy with her neck to be troubled to speak. As she reached back to undo her top, his hands drifted down to her plump ass, giving that a squeeze instead. He'd want to see that too, in time, but for the moment the redheaded gym leader's exposed breasts would give his eyes a treat.

“Number nineteen. 'Make sure you have ventilation in your bedroom so you can breathe freely and deeply.' I suppose we'll have to put a stop to having sex in sealed shipping containers, then.” He moved off the wall and a little closer to her, where he'd be able to better gauge her frustration. It would only be satisfying if he got a mental snap shot of her immediate response, not the filtered one she gave him when finally composed enough to speak or turn her head.

Looking out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him coming close, and cursed under her breath. “Maybe you could go back to your apartment and clean up before our date, instead of sitting here bothering me?” Her eyes returned to the screen and didn't move away.

“I've already cleaned up.”
“You could try new hair styles, then. Perhaps I could go a single date without looking like I'm dining with Glen Danzig.”

Rolling his eyes, he turned the page. “Number twenty. 'Arrange a rendezvous in a cafe with your partner and pretend you are only just getting to know each other. This can turn into an exciting flirtation and help liberate you from constricting habits.”

“I wish we could pretend we didn't know each other,” she muttered. “Then you might just feel awkward and decent enough to get out of a stranger's apartment and stop reading them bad sex tips.”

“It would be no less awkward than how we hooked up in the first place.” He settled into the chair near her bed, which she couldn't remember the reason for, but it had been there for weeks so the cause had been lost to time. Little details like that never survived long in her head, not when there were always so many ideas and phrases she could use. Continuing to thumb through the book, eyes skimming for a particularly bad one, he raised his legs so they rested on the bed, his bare feet occasionally tapping her side as he moved them about. Few things were as oddly uncomfortable as a toe pressed between ribs.

Skyla's fluttering kisses along his inner thighs made Black squirm. Any doubts her insecurities had brought up about him not thinking her good enough were shattered right there, because he was loving it. His head kept rolling back as a moan spilled upward from his lips, only to return to place as quickly as possible so that he could watch her continue. Between her kisses and the bizarre feeling of her gloved fingertips toying with his base and sensitive underside, Black was moaning rather loudly. Just the boost of confidence she needed to seal the deal.

“I bet I know what you've been waiting for,” she said, voice now in full sly mode. Her finger dragged up his shaft to his tip, then circled around it and pressed just enough to make him feel it. “It's what all the boys who I bring upstairs want. But I only save it for the special ones...” She reached down to her breasts, grabbing them and pulling them up. Her posture changed and she smiled wide. “You beat me, though. I think that alone qualifies you as 'special'.”

“Ooh, number thirty-five is a recipe for Waldorf salad. They couldn't even come up with forty proper sex tips, and we still have three hundred and thirty to go. But, we should try this some time. It claims to be an aphrodisiac.” His voice was still heavy with sarcasm. His eyes stayed on her face, smile widening with each flash of frustration streaking across her face. She was cracking. “Fifty-four; hairy. 'Hair is one of the oldest aids to stimulation. Drag your hair over your partner's body. If you have long hair, leaning over your partner and lightly swinging it over your partner's skin can be very erotic.' Once Skyla is done with the titfuck, you should have her do this to Black. You've been so dreadfully stale lately, perhaps this new position would--”

That was it for her. Everything up to that point was irritating, but she could handle it. Grimsley sometimes lapsed into a childlike need to drive her up the wall, but like a parent she had learned to combat it. His comment about her writing though, about ever needing to consult that book for anything ever again, was something she could not abide. Reaching over for a thick hardcover by her bedside, she scowled at him. Tolstoy struck him in the side of the head, but she hadn't managed to knock that shit-eating grin off his face.

Grimsley continued as if a massive brick of a book hadn't hit him “'Fill your partner's navel with champagne and allow her or him to enjoy the prickling sensation for a while. Then use tongue and lips to try and reach the delicious liquid....'” He tilted his head a little at that one, scratching his head with a very exaggerated motion. “Shall we--”
“Die away from me,” she groaned, burying her head in her hands. Her face was bright red now, because even if she knew he wasn't being insulting, his playful poking had conjured up plenty of embarrassment about having the book.

“Faster,” Black moaned, cupping the back of her head and running his fingers through her hair. His hips moved gently, meeting her each time. She held her breasts tight in his lap around his shaft, moving them up and down with a practised rhythm that told him he had been far from the first to indulge this little fantasy. He didn't focus on how many times she'd done this before though, preferring instead to soak in all the pleasure of her round, soft breasts rubbing up and down. Feeling playful, he reached down with his other hand and begin to toy with her nipple.

Though she'd kept a stern expression, feeling Black begin to grope and lightly pinch like that made her expression break for a moment. Few guys ever did more than lay back and let her get them off, so for him to start touching her very sensitive breasts like that was a welcome surprise. She moaned as well, leaning in to kiss his chest through the black t-shirt he wore, squeezing a little more eagerly at herself. Some nights she'd be able to get off from playing with them alone, and though it probably wouldn't be one of those nights, it excited her for what was to come.

“'Buy two tickets for a concert, the movies, or theatre. If you see an interesting person at the entrance, approach her or him and explain that your friend had to cancel at the last minute, and offer them the “extra” ticket'.” Grimsley laughed at that one, angling his foot so he could press his toe into her side a little harder. “I can hardly tell who this book is meant for. People with no understanding of romance, or date rapists.”

“You are a horrible human being and should be ashamed of yourself.” She slid her glasses up her nose and shifted over a little, out of the reach of his toes. She hit the save key shortcut and continued on, hoping that he would give up and she could be productive before dinner. It always killed her when a day off was squandered on attempts to write with nothing to show for them.

“'Teasing someone shows you like him or her. A few flippant remarks, a witty can create an extremely exciting tension in a conversation.' See? I'm doing nothing wrong. I'm being flirty and enriching our sex life, according to this book, the clear authority on the matter.”

Closing the lid on her laptop, Shauntal shot up, a certain fire beneath her eyes that Grimsley had almost never seen. “You're running afoul of the rest of that tip. 'But be careful not to go too far. Don't get sarcastic, or your effort may backfire'. And yes, okay, fine, I got it when I was a teenager so I could write things better, and of course thanks to my eidetic memory they're all still floating around there, which means ten years after I last read it I can finish entries my boyfriend half-reads to try and justify being an irritating twit to me while I'm trying to write.” As she'd spoke, her voice picked up in both volume and speed, until she was unnecessarily loud and the words were coming out so fast that he had no chance of getting in a word against her. She only ever got so wrapped in the words coming out of her mouth when she was writing an especially hot scene, and to even get into that state usually required at least his fingers in her.

“But what makes you so focused on the fact that at one point, I was a curious teenage girl and bought a book? It makes me wonder what your teenage years were, that you're so focused on this book. Did you have your Flock of Wingulls hairstyle when you were fifteen, too? Or maybe you sat alone because you had some ridiculous piece of headgear on to try and shrink the size of your giant head, which did absolutely nothing to mitigate your ego. You spent so long sitting around listening to Wheatus and brooding that you pissed away whole years, and what, does the fact I wasn't cool either make you feel better about things? Because if you are such an embittered crone in your mid-twenties that you can't help but derive some sick pleasure from other peoples' embarrassing pasts, then you will never truly feel better about anything.”

Shauntal's face, by the end of it, was bright red. She was on her knees now, unfurled and was in a very rare position of actually being a few inches higher than Grimsley. That terrified him, and made her fury even more intimidating. Neither seemed to know exactly what to do, but the heavy breathing of the red-faced Shauntal was all that either could hear.

“This may sound strange, but I want to fuck you so badly right now,” he said, the stunned expression giving way to a grin.

Stammering, still shocked she'd even let fly like that, Shauntal just nodded slowly as her boyfriend got up off the chair, leaning into her and gently guiding her down to lie on the bed. His lips sought hers hungrily, enough passion behind them that his mouth conformed to the kiss instead of remaining in its usual Cheshire grin. Shutting her eyes and letting him take her away, Shauntal grabbed at his jacket, not caring in that moment about their dinner date. He was not only quiet, but dancing his fingers along her thighs in the way that always made her twist and bend.

His lips trailed over to her ear, and in her mind's eye she could imagine his lips moving to the words in a way that made her press up against him. In a low, heavy voice, he crooned, “Whatever happened to my Transylvania Twist?”

Shauntal could actually hear the sound of the mood shattering, and her face again went red with fury. Her leg jerked up, knee striking him in the groin, and she pushed him off of her. He rolled to the side, clutching in pain, and she resumed shouting, “Fuck this. Go back to your apartment, fix yourself up, and learn to fucking compose yourself.” She grabbed her laptop and went off to the living room. “And remember to wear some socks this time!”
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365 Old Shames