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Renting movies and ordering in for pizza two weeks running was more than Tom could take. And lucky for him, Rachel was in the same boat.
It wasn't like they'd been doing it every single night, but after staying in nearly half the time in that fourteen day period, he was starting to feel OMCS...Old Married Couple Syndrome. He knew Rachel was feeling it, too, because every time he sat down to get some work done she was either over his shoulder, which bothered him, or in his lap...which led to a lot of necking, bare minimum...or doing something annoying. Which, of course, didn't *really* annoy him, but he growled and snarled at her just the same.
And naturally, none of it fazed her because she knew he was full of shit.
But Saturday night was upon them again and Tom had actually gotten his latest stack of reports done and handed in. Still, he was at his desk, messing around with an idea about something and trying to hide it from Rachel, who was once again behind him, arms around his shoulders and chin atop his head to watch what he was doing as she chattered on about doing something fun or exciting.
"Okay, how 'bout this," Tom finally drawled, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head up, resting the top against her stomach after dislodging her chin, her arms still around his shoulders. "We go out, get drunk, and we get you to the local tattoo parlor...right smack dab in the middle of your left ass cheek we get you a real pretty heart with a banner across it that says 'The Love Butt.'"
Once the flurry of laughter and smacking had subsided into another round of Rachel in his lap, reminding him just how much he loved the fact that she was oral as hell. When they finally parted, he grinned, quirking an eyebrow.
"Okay, so no Love Butt." he conceded. "But I ain't exactly kidding about the tattoo part, and we could definitely throw in getting drunk. Could be fun. Besides, I been thinkin' about getting another one...you could get one, too."
It wasn't like they'd been doing it every single night, but after staying in nearly half the time in that fourteen day period, he was starting to feel OMCS...Old Married Couple Syndrome. He knew Rachel was feeling it, too, because every time he sat down to get some work done she was either over his shoulder, which bothered him, or in his lap...which led to a lot of necking, bare minimum...or doing something annoying. Which, of course, didn't *really* annoy him, but he growled and snarled at her just the same.
And naturally, none of it fazed her because she knew he was full of shit.
But Saturday night was upon them again and Tom had actually gotten his latest stack of reports done and handed in. Still, he was at his desk, messing around with an idea about something and trying to hide it from Rachel, who was once again behind him, arms around his shoulders and chin atop his head to watch what he was doing as she chattered on about doing something fun or exciting.
"Okay, how 'bout this," Tom finally drawled, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head up, resting the top against her stomach after dislodging her chin, her arms still around his shoulders. "We go out, get drunk, and we get you to the local tattoo parlor...right smack dab in the middle of your left ass cheek we get you a real pretty heart with a banner across it that says 'The Love Butt.'"
Once the flurry of laughter and smacking had subsided into another round of Rachel in his lap, reminding him just how much he loved the fact that she was oral as hell. When they finally parted, he grinned, quirking an eyebrow.
"Okay, so no Love Butt." he conceded. "But I ain't exactly kidding about the tattoo part, and we could definitely throw in getting drunk. Could be fun. Besides, I been thinkin' about getting another one...you could get one, too."
