Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13000608.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      The_Loud_House_(Cartoon)
  Relationship:
      Lincoln_Loud/Paige
  Character:
      Lincoln_Loud, Paige
  Additional Tags:
      Foot_Jobs, Sexual_Fantasy, Library, Sexual_Tension
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-12-13 Chapters: 3/3 Words: 5970
****** Agony of the Feet ******
by Weavillain
Summary
     Needless to say, this was the last situation that Lincoln thought
     that he'd be in with Paige...and in the library, no less!
***** Chapter 1 *****
Lincoln had to admit that despite his misgivings about Royal Wood High School's
library, it was slightly less drab than he thought it would look.
The room's set-up was just about as average as he thought that any generic
school library would shape up to be; a few dozen bookshelves, a row of out-of-
date computers in the middle of the room, cheesy motivational posters plastered
across the walls, some desks scattered about, a staff of librarians who were
barely abiding by their enforced noise tolerance with their water cooler talk
behind the information desk...
Yep. Just about as hum-drum as he expected.
Lincoln supposed that most people would find it strange that he hadn't so much
as seen the library's interior by now—given that he was a junior—but if he
thought himself to be anything, it was a man (well, a sixteen-year-old man, but
whatever) of principles.
Granted, it wasn't that Lincoln was against libraries in general, but a school
library was somewhat of a different animal altogether—from what he could glean
from this days as an elementary and a middle school student, school libraries
didn't care to foster the adventures of his favorite comic book characters.
Lincoln rolled his eyes at the negligence, thinking that it was a deliberate
attempt by the school's faculty to cultivate the best learning environment
possible by not letting the minds of the students be "poisoned" with the
"evils" of whimsical flights of fancy (which were apparently only a problem if
they were in comic book form). Whatever the case may be, Lincoln simply didn't
see the point of bothering with a school library if his treasured comic books
weren't a priority (even if he hadn't actually bothered to see if his qualms
had any merit in this case).
Why would he bother giving the time of day to a place that seemed hellbent on
not giving him the time of day? Where was his drive? What was his motivation?
Where was his reason?
As of this late April afternoon, he had been given such a reason by one Paige
Emmett.
Paige wasn't anyone special, if he didn't consider her being his crush for the
past five years as "special". But whether Lincoln found her "special" or not
didn't change the fact that thanks to the dice roll of chance (or, y'know, the
whims of his history teacher) landing in his favor, he and Paige had been
paired up to tackle a two-man group research project on the Industrial
Revolution and its societal effects on America.
Of course, getting the chance to team up with her had to have its downside;
gotta love those catches.
Apparently, Mr. Palmer wasn't caught up with the rest of the world and the fact
that any school assignment, that needed sources, was better off done on a
computer, where the necessary information to complete said assignment was
literally at one's fingertips. However, because of his Stone Age mentality, he
deemed that the class assignment's sources were strictly limited to books, a
restriction that had only taken a tiny bit of wind out of Lincoln's sails
because guess what, you crotchety old fart?! Friggin' Paige Emmett was his
partner, and ain't nothin' ruining that!
In the end, it had been Paige to suggest that they come together (in a strictly
studious way as far as Lincoln's common sense could deduce) after school and
get cracking on their research with a trip to the school library.
Had it been anyone else, Lincoln would've objected to the proposal on the spot,
(there was a perfectly suitable public library with comic books he could read
after some heavy-duty research, thank you very much) but how could he possibly
say "no" to that face? Y'know, that face—eyes of bright blue that sparkled like
a dazzling ocean, light orange hair that was crafted from the brilliant beams
of the Sun itself, pretty little pink lips that made the cutest stomach-
flopping smiles, an adorable, pert, pudgy nose that was just begging to be
kissed…
…
…
…
But yeah, back to the the school library; it was far from the best place on
Earth, but simply being with Paige made it all worth it.
After they had both spent a good twenty minutes combing the many, many, many
bookshelves for the proper material, Lincoln and Paige found themselves sitting
across from each other at a dingy little table in a far corner of the library;
to Lincoln, it felt like he was sitting at one of Lola's old tea parties all
over again, what with how cramped his legs felt under the desk.
"Well, Lincoln," Paige said in a hushed tone, all while she looked down
disinterestedly at a thick, gray book, "you ready to do this?"
The way those words snaked past her lips and buzzed around his head, singing in
his ears like a chorus of sirens, was enough to slowly but surely
make…anotherpart of his anatomy feel cramped as it stiffened and pressed into
the rough fabric of his shorts, the friction doing nothing but excite him
further; oh yeah, and the unimplied double meaning of "you ready to do this"
didn't help either.
God, he was going to poke a hole through his shorts at this rate!
"As, uh, ready as I'll ever be," Lincoln replied shakily, flushing in guilt
when Paige appeared to see right through the smoke and mirrors of his slipshod
façade of "totally not perving on the drop dead gorgeous study partner sitting
across from me and dripping sexy out of her skin like sweat, sweat that I
wouldn't mind licking off every inch of her—"
'Aaaaaaaand time to research!'
Lincoln scrambled for a book, any book, from the pile in the middle of the
table, blindly flipped it open, and hurriedly scanned his eyes across the pages
while his brain was too occupied with fright to process the words in front of
him.
What he could process, on the other hand, was that he had to get a hold of his
libido and fast, lest he let Paige down by being too distracted to do his fair
share of the workload and most importantly, freak her out with any semblance of
his inner conflict slipping through the cracks of his studious visage.
===============================================================================
At the moment, the last thing that Lincoln felt that he needed to be was
attentive to anything other than the book in front of him. Had he decided to
look up for even half a second, he might've been able to spot Paige's eyes
flitting across him, roaming his body like he was a delectable prime rib that
she was ready to pounce and dig into at any second.
"Glad to hear it," Paige replied, a toothy grin stretched across her face.
She allowed her tongue to slither out to play, wetting her bottom lip with a
languid stroke. She had to keep herself from panting excitedly as she
repeatedly told herself that soon, very soon, Lincoln would hers for the
taking—for now, though, she just needed to have a little patience, wait for the
library to be just a little less populated, and then she could have her prize.
Of course, committing to their project assignment was important, but it wasn't
as if Paige didn't feel like she could kill two birds with one stone…
Well, more like kill one bird (the research assignment) and screw the other
bird's (Lincoln's) brains out after she got the ball rolling.
It didn't take much for Paige to catch onto the fact that Lincoln Loud had a
thing for her; those longing sidelong glances, that she'd repeatedly catch him
sending her way during lunch when he clearly thought she wasn't looking, pretty
much said it all.
Oh, and the fact that he could barely get a sentence together whenever she'd
try to initiate a meaningful conversation beyond a customary, "Hey, how's it
going?".
And don't even get her started on the constant blushing and nervous grins; too
adorable for words!
The sight of him trying to keep his cool around her never failed to fantasize
about her grabbing him and smothering him with kisses, swooning from his dreamy
sighs and whiny begs as he pleaded for more of her sweet attention.
Yeah, it was needless to say that Paige Emmett was more than a little smitten
with Lincoln Loud. But it wasn't as if she needed any help with that; even now,
five years after she realized that he existed, that cute boyish charm was still
as customary as ever, and it was a mystery to her why it took until recently
for it to finally affect her.
But she couldn't let the regret of not coming around sooner than now to blind
her ambitions, could she? Oh, most certainly not, not when Lincoln Loud—the
Lincoln Loud of all of her latest wild, alluring, ecstasy-filled, pleasurable
dreams—was so vulnerable, so delightfully susceptible to any of the covert
advances that she'd be more than happy to break out on him and watch, with the
utmost gratification, as she'd turn him into a pile of mush as he panted her
name out in ragged puffs, coaching her on as she continued to—
'No!'
Paige was just barely able to break away from fantasizing any longer before her
thoughts could drift her further towards the point of no return, a place where
restraint would be all but forgotten.
'Patience, Paige,' she told herself again as she returned to the book that
didn't make her feel all giddily horny with tingles in her tummy as she thought
of the many ways she could play with that cowlick with her fingers and tongue
before she'd do the same to his—
'PATIENCE!'
***** Chapter 2 *****
No one, absolutely no one, could tell Lincoln that he hadn't been trying his
damnedest to behave himself for the past thirty minutes or so, doing his very
best to keep his mind dedicated to scouring the pages of the book before him
and force it from taking up residence in the gutter.
Again.
The Lord knew that he really was trying—the problem, though, was that the Lord
also knew the perverted thoughts that kept sprouting up in his brain like a bad
case of acne, steering him completely off the rails as he fumbled around in the
haze of his horndog fantasies; all of them made him ache and pulse furiously.
Oh, God, did he ever ache—he wasn't kidding when he thought that he'd wind up
unwittingly poking his own glory hole through his shorts if this kept up.
And, for just the briefest second, he allowed himself to believe that such an
outcome would be okay; maybe Paige would take interest, be mesmerized by the
evidence of his desire jutting proudly from its denim prison. Maybe, if he
asked nicely, she'd play with it a little, stroking inch by inch between those
deft, smooth fingers. Perhaps she'd handle it like a joystick and gently roll
it around in her firm grip as his heat warmed her flesh. And, if he was really
lucky, she might even give it a taste with her tongue, the cool, velvety
texture sending him over the edge as the friction would undoubtedly send
hundreds of bolts of pure fire straight to his loins, threatening to make him
burst.
Or perhaps…no, scratch that, he should most definitely get back on track before
he entertained those desires any longer.
But just as soon as he decided to do that, his body betrayed him again—an
innocent gesture, just a simple upward twist of his neck to get a stiff little
crick out, made his gaze inadvertently land on her again, and it was back to
square one with him utterly spellbound.
'Are you fuc…get it together, Lincoln!'
With his sheer willpower proving to be ineffective, Lincoln opted for a more
tactical approach as he quickly scrambled through a mental slideshow, conjuring
up some of the most disgusting, putrid, erection-killing images that he could
put together.
'Rotting meat! Festering boils! Dead kittens! Naked old ladies! Leprosy!
Um…uh…n-naked old ladieswithleprosy!'
But to his ever-present shame and horror, by the time he reached the end of his
"Boner-B-Gone" litany, he realized that he was worse off than when he started
his exercise in futility; if anything, all that gross imagery succeeded in
doing was churning his brain into defensive mode, bombarding him with yet
another menagerie of daydreams.
Lincoln sighed mentally, feeling his resolve snap in two with frustration that
wasn't sexual for a change.
Fine. You win. One more. Just one more distraction, and he'd be done with these
diversions for good. 'Happy now, brain? You gonna let me read in peace and not
make me pitch tents every ten seconds?'
But before he could be given a reassuring sign that his compromise was
accepted, he was whisked away in the arms of his devilish little tour guide—his
cackling, impish libido—and within three seconds, he was as good as gone.
Mother of God, he was gonna need a search and rescue party to bring him back
from this one.
===============================================================================
'Now,' Paige thought with a mischievous leer as she began to slip her feet out
of her sandals one by one, letting them drop to the floor with a quiet thunk.
Of course, now that there was virtually no one else within their immediate
vicinity, it wasn't like she had to be so cautious, but she figured that being
careful wasn't a bad thing.
She wiggled her toes a little, loosening up her joints in preparation for what
was about to come next.
Oh, this…this was gonna be fun.
===============================================================================
Unlike his previous sinful little mental detours, this one was perfect; too
perfect, in fact:
There was Paige (because why wouldn't she be there?) at Gus' Games and Grub, in
the zone as she piloted her ship through the digital space of Alien Hunter,
blasting away at any enemy battleship that was foolish enough to get in her
way.
He was there too, of course, watching her from about a foot away and thinking
that every little exerted grunt she made was music to his ears, and the little
swivels and shimmies her hips did, as she drove her body in with each shift of
the joystick, was alluring enough to pay to see. What made it even better was
from what he could tell, they were alone—it was as if she was putting on a
little show for his eyes alone.
And just when he thought that being a silent observer was more than enough, she
looked over her shoulder at him, casting him a flirty look that made his heart
hammer against his ribs and his mouth dry up as if it were a desert.
"Hey, Linc?" she cooed, the sultry melody making him blush and harden in an
instant—the arousing sensation was intensified from the fact that she didn't
even need to keep her eyes on the game to expertly cruise through her current
mission without a problem.
"Uh huh?" he replied timidly, nearly swallowing his tongue from his nervous
gulp as his eyes dared to break away from her hypnotic irises, trail down the
curve of her spine, and finally rest on her shapely derrière.
His head jerked up (along with his second head) when her sweet voice called out
to him again.
"This game's…a little dull," she said, every syllable drenched with deliberate
seduction. "I need a…distraction to make it a little challenging."
There was nothing about her tone that made Lincoln feel like her proposal was
innocuous. "A...a…d-distraction?"
"Mmhmm."
"What, uh, kind of distraction?" he asked, testing the waters.
And that's when the dam of his restraint fractured down the middle, desire
pouring through the cracks—what she told him next gave him no excuse not to be
bold.
"Whatever you want," she said with a wink, and turned back around, her
invitation clinging in the air and prodding him forward. "Surprise me."
And surprise her, Lincoln most certainly did; at least, that's what he could
gather from the startled little gasp that rushed into her lungs when he marched
towards her and cupped his hands around her waist.
He moved in even closer, melding his chest against her back and savoring the
warmth—his heart skipped a beat when he felt the clip of her bra strap lightly
scrape against his nipple.
His hips followed suit, and he hissed through his teeth as his groin slowly
pressed into her backside, the pliable surface of her curves making sweet
friction against him as he sank into her and drank in every moan she made with
his subtle thrusts.
"Mmmmmmm," she hummed lowly as she rocked back and forth against him, his
hardness making her head loll back.
Her sweet sounds only made his groin tingle, nearly to the point of blissful
agony, and his advances even bolder—his idle fingers stirred to life and found
themselves leaving her waist and skimming under her shirt, his smooth
fingertips grazing her skin and eliciting twitches and spasms from her tight,
little tummy.
Soon, his breathy pants melted into her own as he leaned his head forward and
pressed his mouth softly against the pulse of her neck, skimming her skin with
the velvety pressure of his lips. He was pleased with her needy gasp, and he
rewarded her with a leisurely lick along the outer ridge of her ear—he flashed
a crooked smile when she shuddered and whimpered once his tongue left her, no
doubt leaving her wanting.
By now, she was no longer attending to her little arcade game, having already
lost her three lives after what felt like eons ago. But that suited Lincoln
just fine, and he knew better than to assume that Paige was downhearted about
her failing to live up to her challenge for long.
With devilish intent, his brought his lips up the side of her face, giving her
a brief peck against the corner of her mouth, and he smirked as he watched it
quiver. He did it again, this time behind her ear, and he couldn't suppress his
grin as she let out a long sigh.
"This a good enough distraction?" he whispered saucily into her ear, even after
the fact that she had already lost—that still didn't stop his appreciation from
the fact that it was his voice that made goosebumps break out along her arms.
Her heady reply drove him to madness as it pierced through his ears and made
his hardness throb excitedly. "Ooooh, Lincy~!"
He was more than happy to make her squeal louder than that, he decided as he
peppered kisses across the expanse of the back of her neck and picked up the
pace of his grinding against her soft, doughy rear, his dips and ascents making
longer, harder strokes that electrified him in all the right places.
Meanwhile, his hands had minds of their own, roaming freely and independently
of the other as they skidded their tips across her ribs, between her shoulder
blades, along her fabric-covered bosom…until they both united in their quest
for a more satisfying venture and began to unbutton and unzip her pants.
Lincoln nearly drooled when he imagined how his fingers would feel in there,
sliding in and out as her heat pleasantly scorched him and her imminent cries
to the heavens sang his praises.
He stepped back slightly to allow her jeans to fall around her ankles, but the
loss of her body heat, no matter how short the longing lasted, sent icky, cold
shivers down his spine that had to go.
Now.
With nothing but a pair of cute, frilly white panties between him and his
nirvana, Lincoln didn't hesitate to press back against her again, groaning over
Paige's tiny ecstatic mewl as he felt himself slightly yet rigidly wedged in
the crease of her butt.
"P-please…" she spluttered in a desperate pant, her beg nearly sending him over
the edge.
Though her needs weren't fully spoken, he felt confident enough to please her
and satisfy his own ambition at the same time.
With a wicked grin, he used his teeth to rake the flushed skin of her shoulders
and neck while his hands got to work, his thumbs hooking the waistband of her
underwear.
===============================================================================
But before he could go any further, a little shiver ran down his calf, the
sensation snapping him out of his trance and jolting him back to reality.
***** Chapter 3 *****
'The hell?'
Lincoln had no idea what he could call…whatever it was that just traced over
his skin, but it did the trick in abruptly yanking him out of his daydream, as
if someone had thrown scalding hot coffee in his face to perk him up (and to
piss him off).
The first thing Lincoln realized was that he was…wet? His face glowed with
shame, the next few seconds granting him with the dawning knowledge that he
wasn't necessarily wet as much as he was…sticky; all in all, it was a little
glob that partially grafted the tip of his erection against his boxers, but
that didn't make the prospect of being so sinfully "moist", with Paige Emmett
sitting across from him, any less uncomfortable.
The second, and thankfully less embarrassing of his observations, came in the
form of Paige herself. He must've not made enough noise or bore any unsavory
expressions during his mental vacation because as far as he could tell, her
present fixture of attention was in that book of hers and mercifully, not on
him as she would have undoubtedly lambasted him for not only neglecting their
assignment but for lecherously fawning over her like a pervert.
But the return to his better senses, to getting his head back in the books, had
to wait for just a little while longer. He was still left in the dark about
what it was that had just kicked…no, brushed (?) against his calf. It wasn't
the "what" that confused him, however; he had been in enough sibling scuffles
to know what skin-on-skin contact was. Add to the fact that the fleeting touch
had happened under the table, and Lincoln could ascertain that it was Paige's
leg that had stroked him.
Now, it was all about figuring out the "why". He had the wisdom to burn down
the buds of hope that immediately sprang up, which nearly led to a certain
softening appendage from "springing up" again; there was no way, absolutely no
way, that Paige had done that on purpose, at least flirtatiously. It wasn't as
if she'd ever be interested in someone like him anyway and even if she was, he
figured (more so hoped) that her advances on him would be less subtle, less
room for any doubt behind her actions. So, that left him with the only one
logical conclusion.
It was all an accident. A delightfully pleasant accident that had—no matter how
quick and chaste it was— almost stimulated him all over again, but still
nothing more than happenstance that he wouldn't mind happening to him ag—
"Wha?!" Lincoln squeaked as his heart leapt in his chest, his desires
unexpectedly met in the blink of an eye.
There it was again—no longer amid his fanciful passion, he could not only feel
the titillating contact against his calf with better clarity, but he could make
out the finer details; her toes had briefly sunk into his muscles, firmly
pushing in before those wonderful digits pulled away…
…before they returned, this time digging in with enough force for Lincoln to
discern—with a volatile mixture of excitement, joy and confusion—that her touch
was…intentional.
A billion thoughts raced through his brain at once, and the first to cross the
finish line was the one that told him to play it cool, goddammit; don't look at
her, don't make any weird faces, and don't make any strange noi—
"Gah!" Lincoln was too late to clamp a hand over his mouth before that high-
pitched squeal could fumble out.
Well, so much for playing it cool; even with his dedication to not looking like
a total chump, all it took was one quick drag of her toes down the back of his
leg to melt his insides. He thought that his only silver lining came from the
fact that their little corner of the library was isolated, meaning no one else
could hear his unmanly squawks.
He was forced to add on another blessing when that heavenly touch revisited
him, along with the foot that had been dormant until now. This time, though,
instead of kneading his calf, they rested on either side of his shin, slowly
trailing up and down in alternating circuits. Lincoln's spine was racked with a
shudder at the feeling of the balls of each foot pressing firmly against him.
Though Lincoln wasn't about to deny himself the pleasure, he was still
mystified by this experience. He never considered himself as someone who was
into feet; his tastes were what one would call "traditional". And yet, here he
was, moaning softly and quickly hardening as Paige's feet ground into his
flesh, lighting his nerve endings like a raging brushfire. Perhaps it was the
fact that Paige was administering this attention that did the trick. Or maybe
she was an expert in this kind of thing and knew what "buttons" to push, so to
speak.
Either way, it was hot as hell.
His sentiments, in all their unspoken glory, must've gotten through to Paige
somehow because for the first time since she started her little game of
footsie, she tore her eyes away from her book, and gave her prey a wink, one
that was reminiscent of the first one that she had sent his way all those years
ago and ensnared his heart in the process.
"U-um…uh…" Lincoln mumbled, his cheeks reddened from how his lack of composure
didn't permit him to do anything but murmur pathetically from just one little
wink.
Thankfully, she must've found it cute because she merely snickered and resumed
"reading". Lincoln would've breathed a sigh of relief…
…had his lungs not sucked in a sharp gasp from the abrupt motion of one of
Paige's feet lightly skimming his shin before the foot's arch lazily dragged
over his knee.
Her other foot was more active, as it left his leg to grip the heel of his
shoe, her toes grazing over his skin as her foot slowly but surely began to
slip it off his own foot.
His sock came next. Lincoln shivered in pleasure when the bare skin of her foot
skimmed him as she tugged the garment off in the same fashion as she did with
his shoe.
The breadth of chilly air only cooled his foot for a second; both of her feet
came down to glide over his skin, rubbing him from all angles and warming him
instantly. A dazed grin broke on Lincoln's face; he had no idea what her soles
were made of because there was no way that normal skin was supposed to feel
like heaven on Earth.
"Ahhhhh," he moaned when her big toe smoothed over his ankle, slowly tracing
circles around the joint.
===============================================================================
That moan; good Lord, was it music to her ears.
Paige felt herself blush, nearly dripping with excitement from that noise
alone. Her brain was marinated in ecstasy, adrift the raging currents of the
desire that pounded her senses to mush. Every little twitch his face made, a
sign of her teasing sending him to another euphoric high, elicited another
maddening, wonderful, throbbing ache at her core, and it tempted her to rub her
legs together to suppress the deliciously painful tremors.
But her Lincy needed her, wanted her to continue, and she wasn't about to leave
him starving for the touch.
She elicited another contented moan from him when started to tenderly stroke
one of her heels over his instep, rippling twitches vibrating through her skin
from the way it shuddered under her ministrations.
Wild flutters abounded in her belly when she got a good look of his unfocused
eyes; glazed with a sheen of elation as they transfixed their gaze upon her.
She took it as a tribute to her, a sign of how captivated he was and how his
devoted passion for her was unmatched.
But all that meant for Paige was that she'd have to continue to do her part and
fight for his attention, never relenting until there wasn't any room for anyone
else to sneak up on him and sink their disgusting, filthy claws into what was
hers.
Paige's lips grew into a tiny smirk. It was time to up the ante a little bit.
===============================================================================
With his head cooked in a steamy fog, Lincoln couldn't focus his mind on
deciding what was better about this; the fact that Paige was practically
groping him or that she could make him feel so lustful and stiff with just her
feet.
He couldn't denounce the pleasure she was bestowing on him by thinking about
her playing with his body with other, admittedly more tantalizing features (he
always wondered how her tits would feel underneath his grabby hands)—this was a
gift from the gods, a treasure that he was deemed worthy to be bequeathed with.
If this was all Paige wanted to do with him, even after this was over, then
he'd submit to her whims with nary a complaint.
He slouched in his seat and let out another shuddering sigh when the toes of
one of her feet began to lightly prod between his, working between the
crevices. The other foot was less attentive, though Lincoln's cock twitched all
the same with how the sole glided across his shin like butter.
But then, just when he thought things couldn't be any better, he was kicked out
and left in the bitter cold; those lovely little feet suddenly drifted away,
and it was all he could do to keep himself from groaning in disappointment.
He took the departure with more dignity than he thought he could muster,
finding it miraculous that he hadn't resorted to pleading for her to continue.
Oh well, he had his fun (way more fun than he could've ever hoped to have). It
was time to take up his post as a studious, dedicated partner and get back to—
Lincoln all but squeaked, his heart nearly bolted up into his throat from
surprise…and a sudden spike of arousal. He shot his research partner a
befuddled look, and his face lit up from another burning blush when his
confusion was reciprocated with wagging eyebrows and a naughty leer.
Paige, without so much as a slight hint of shame on display, had quite
literally pressed her foot against the bulge in his shorts. He winced from the
tendrils of nigh overbearing pleasure that drummed into his dick with each firm
little grind that the balls of her foot made against his heated flesh, his
shorts acting as an ineffective barrier.
"Thought I left you hangin', Lincy?" she purred lowly, cackling with how his
face twisted in blissful grimace as he sharply exhaled through his nose while
he gritted his teeth.
He could only croak out a series of raspy, whiny mewls in reply, his pride be
damned; he'd do just about anything for this sweet torment to go on, whether
their little public stunt was discovered or not.
Her motions slowed and transitioned to paintbrush-like strokes, the bombardment
halted in favor of dragging out his torture at an agonizingly slow pace.
Without the wherewithal to stop himself, Lincoln let out a needy whine. His
blush crept down to his neck when he heard Paige chuckle mirthfully.
"It's okay, Lincy," she cooed softly, her mouth formed in a cute little "o"
shape. "Just be patient, okaaaaaay?"
He heard her—he even went as far as believing her—but belief didn't stop the
inferno that roared in his groin and craved for its lustful flames to be
rekindled back to life.
Like, now please.
But the sensation of gnawing hunger quickly became overshadow by curiosity as
he felt the front of his shorts begin to…tug?
His ears perked up, and his mouth fell open when he began to hear…zipping.
There was still enough blood in his brain for him to put two and two together,
and it made him pant in anticipation; those talented little toes had gripped
his zipper and were pulling it down with ease.
The button came next, the dexterity of both of her feet coming into play. In
his mind's eye, Paige was smirking gleefully at his awe.
From there, a foot poked around blindly, tapping against his hard length in
search for—
"Ah, here we are."
The slit, the gateway into a dimension of unspeakable possibility.
Lincoln's heart clenched with the first little nudge as her toes wormed through
the opening and graced his tip with the lightness of a feather. His back
arched, breathing became more labored, and his arms shook from that alone.
And then his eyes rolled back when she deftly wedged his hardness between her
big and second toe and began to pump.
His hips thrust into her with involuntary spasms, the smooth abrasion of her
toes nearly sending him over the edge. His nerves churned the flames of pure
divine rapture through his body, and it wouldn't be too long before he…he…
Woah. 'O-oh God!'
He was so cloooooose; stars…constellations…galaxies were already exploding
behind his squeezed eyes as electricity spiraled through his brain and
intertwined with the pulse in his dick that beat in tune with every stroke of
her glorious foot; he vowed to worship it in unholy consecration after she was
finished.
And with one last drag, the dull nail of her toe grazing him ever so
pleasingly, he was spent; his mouth hung open in a silent scream as he reached
his climax.
===============================================================================
About a minute later, Lincoln was still breathless; his upper body laid across
the table as he breathed in and out as if he had just run a marathon.
Around the city.
Twice.
Try as he might, he just couldn't give Paige the presence of mind, leaving her
to be in charge of cleaning up his...mess. She was fast enough to push her feet
away in the nick of time, leaving the floor as the only target of Lincoln's
trajectory. Just as she was about to leave him to run to the bathroom and grab
some paper towels, she sauntered back to his side on wobbly legs, still not
entirely off from her own sexual high—even if it didn't come close to being as
satisfying as his.
Lincoln knew that he'd have to fix that soon, and he hoped that she was up to
letting him have that chance.
He flinched when he felt her lay across his back, and even with his senses
dulled, there was just the tiniest spark of heat when her lips ghosted over his
ear, her breath fanning his heated, sweaty skin.
"You. Me. This Saturday. My place or yours?" she whispered.
That was an easy choice; he couldn't imagine them doing much of anything with
his sisters buzzing around.
"Yours," he replied shakily. "D-definitely yours."
"Good choice."
She pecked him on the cheek, gave his hair a ruffle, and left him.
As Lincoln watched her leave, his eyes trained on the bounce from her glutes
with each step she took, a thought, an undying sentiment that would never leave
him, rang out in his head. 'God, Ifuckinglove the library.'
===============================================================================
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