Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9270197.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Gravity_Falls
  Relationship:
      Mabel_Pines/The_Author_|_Original_Stanford_Pines
  Character:
      Mabel_Pines, The_Author_|_Original_Stanford_Pines
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-09 Words: 5707
****** Biblical Knowledge ******
by journalxxx
Summary
     Mabel's long-time plan finally comes to fruition.
It had taken months of planning and observation, of carefully balanced teasing
and thinly veiled innuendos, a slow, steady, silent war of attrition against
Ford's overly prudish facade. From the very beginning, Mabel had had no doubts
she would succeed, eventually. For a man with such strong and upright moral
values, Ford's remarkable lack of indignation and conviction in rejecting her
improper intentions spoke loudly about his own ambivalence on the matter. Not
that he had outright rejected her, either. He had just ignored and brushed off
every and any ambiguous situation or remark he had run into, skillfully
avoiding Mabel's attempts at flirting with honestly impressive nonchalance. But
Mabel had bided her time. She couldn't tackle Ford in the same way she had done
with Stan, that much was obvious. Cheeky advances and overt seduction were
excellent resources against men with their minds in the gutter, but Ford's was
tightly locked in his brain. Time and exposition were her best weapons against
his reluctance. The kind of unobtrusive yet relentless flirting that was never
too crude to elicit a real reaction, that could be easily misunderstood by
anyone else as nothing but very warm affection, that gradually turned into a
routine through sheer repetition. Tiny impudent jokes, ever so slightly tight
hugs, lenghty glances and sporadic, priceless and totally not accidental
moments of running into each other while wearing less layers of clothing than
socially recommended. And it was so easy to tell her approach was working, too.
It was soo easy to notice how Ford blushed less and less as time passed, as his
own glances gradually became more unguarded and lingering, as he took a few
more seconds to find the initiative to break the occasional contacts with her.
She didn't even need to escalate her suggestive behavior, it was so glaringly
obvious that Ford was well aware of it from the start and he was effectively
talking himself into considering its further implications. She had just needed
to wait, until the moment he would be done with dismissing his scruples. Until
that very same morning, when she had casually steered the conversation on the
topic of his tattoos - an all-time favorite, even just for the objective
hilarity of it - and reiterated for about the hundredth time her interest in
seeing them all. That morning his attitude had been different. That morning,
the two of them alone in the house, the rain quietly and soothingly tapping on
the window, he hadn't looked away, or remained silent, or kept talking about
any other random topic. That morning he had looked up from his book, with a
very calm expression, with a very calm tone, and he had looked at her.
Something had been said, something completely irrelevant compared to the
meaningful way they were staring at each other, their eyes efficiently
condensing a dozen questions and answers in the space of few heartbeats.

Ford's body was almost exactly like she had imagined, and yet not quite. From
the stolen glimpes she had got in that last two months, she had gathered he was
pretty damn fit, and that expectation had been fully met. Honestly, her grunkle
could easily put almost all the guys she had been with entirely to shame. She
run her hand lightly along his shoulders and down his back, intrigued by the
contrast between his skin, slightly wrinkled and sagging here and there, and
the solid feeling of his toned muscles underneath. He was decidedly less hairy
than Stan, which meant still more than she'd imagine any sixty-five-year-old
man to be. There were scars here and there, overall less numerous and jagged
than she was expecting to find. The most impressive ones were on the lower left
side of his abdomen, two rough botches of slightly discolored skin, one on his
front and one on his back, which made Mabel think of some sort of impalement
accident. She realized she had been staring at them for slightly too long when
Ford's fingers gently raised her chin from the gruesome sight back to his face,
a soft expression on his features.

"Not quite like in your wolfman's stories, I bet."

"Are you kidding me? You'd make a tremendous post-war Gerard, grunkle Ford."
She laughed heartily, shamelessly feeling up his pectorals. She took another
good look at him before squinting suspiciously.

"Seriously though, where are the other tattoos? On your legs?"

Ford chuckled, leaning back against the chair and fully exposing his torso to
her curious touches.

"No. I told you wouldn't find any."

"But I know there's more than one, you wrote 'tattoos' in your journal." Her
hand trailed to his neck slowly and stopped over that adorable star of his. She
caressed that spot thoughtfully, smirking at how subtly flushed that simple
gesture was making him. "Wait, don't tell me... Of course! You have invisible
ink tattoos, that's so like you! Oh my God wait, let me get the black light!"

She would have actually run off to fetch Dipper's portable lamp if Ford hadn't
grabbed her wrist to stop her, pulling her close again and bursting out
laughing.

"You'd need more sophisticated equipment than a black light to make them
appear, I fear. I got them in a dimension with massive wavelenght anomalies and
alterations, I needed to wear special goggles all the time just to be able to
see anything."

"But what is even the point of getting tattoos you can't see?" She let him pull
her flush against his chest, enjoying the warmth seeping through her sweater
and the delicate smell of soap coming from his skin.

"I don't know. What's the point in subscribing to a subculture enterely
dedicated to the celebration of darkness when your very nature is one of
brightness, enthusiasm and vitality?"

That genuinely made her smile, and also blush, a little bit. She wrapped her
arms around him and pressed herself as close as she could to him, laying a
small peck on his neck.

"Trying out new things?"

"Trying out new things."

Their lips met halfway. Her first kiss with Ford was also almost exactly as she
had envisioned it. Very slow, very chaste and tidy, a soft brushing of lips and
breaths that didn't promise or demand anything. She let it last for a few
minutes without hurrying their pace before relinquishing his mouth and nuzzling
his face, almost giggling from the tingling sensation of his short stubble. She
trailed a few more kisses on his cheek, down along his jaw and back up to his
ear. He was very quiet, so much that she could barely hear his breathing
despite being practically glued to him. He had started to caress her back at
some point, so lightly that she hadn't even noticed at first, his fingers
hovering over the soft curves of her spine up until they got tangled in her
long hair. It wasn't long before his hands settled on her hips, his digits
barely slipping under the rim of her sweater to prod at her sides beneath. She
leisurely raised her arms, prompting him to remove the garment, which he did
with painstaking slowness, dragging his pads firmly against her skin. She
couldn't hold back a smile at how sincerely fascinated he looked. His palms
remained stuck to her sides, barely caressing her ribs and digging ever so
lightly in her belly with his thumbs, but the transfixed gaze trained on her
bosom made the real object of his attention very transparent.

She clambered on his lap, straddling him so that their upper bodies were nearly
touching. When he raised her gaze to meet her eyes, he looked unsettled, for
the very first time since she had tried to approach him. She held his gaze with
the same certainty she used to rest her hands on his uncle's to guide them
upwards, exactly where they both wanted them to be, pressed against her
breasts. She loved everything about that moment, his nervous breath, the
tentative pressure, the rough feeling of his calloused skin against her own,
the way his uniquely large palms could easily cup her blooming forms. She let
out a cheerful laugh, catching his attention again.

"You have the face of a bull in a China shop, you know?"

She laughed again when his confused expression turned into a peeved frown, glad
that she had managed to snap him out of his reverie. Her breathing hitched
slightly when he started fondling her, dragging his palms over her nipples with
deliberate firmness.

"Hm, do I? Do you know what you look like?"

He slid one arm around her waist and pulled her flush against himself, his
mouth latching onto her neck and lavishing wet kisses all over her flesh. A
small whimper escaped her lips when he pinched her nipple hard enough to leave
a sting for a few seconds.

"You look like the kind of thing that makes even the most unapologetic atheist
fear for his soul."

She arched her back instictively, lured by the hot sensation of their bare
skins touching. She let her head fall backwards, offering him her neck, her
front, her whole being now that he was finally, finally reaching out to take
it. She embraced him back, encouraging him with a soft moan and a not so soft
nibble on his ear.

"You look like the kind of thing you could ruin just by touching it. And that
makes you want to touch it even more."

She would have loved to hear more of his endearingly worded praise, she really
would, it was such an uncommon trait among her peers. But now his mouth was
just under her chin, his tongue lapping directly at her throat between one
pause and another, and she just couldn't let him go his merry way from there.
She caught him in a hungry kiss, which he quickly took over with a passion she
wasn't expecting. His hand cupped her nape to keep her steady while he pushed
his tongue against hers, past hers, straight into her mouth with a low groan
that vibrated against her lips. She clutched at him, enticed beyond reason by
that glimpse of pleasure he was giving her, and started to rock her body
against him. She could finally hear him panting slightly against her mouth, she
could sense his body tense and relax in time with her movements, she could feel
his hand, trapped between their chests, still prodding and squeezing and
seizing both her breasts in turn, and each sensation only fuelled her intent
even more. Soon she could also notice his growing interest against her lower
parts, and her only logic reaction was to grind against it even more firmly.
Ford took her suggestion in stride and let go of her neck, since she was doing
a very good job of on trapping his mouth by her own initiative. He slipped his
hand under her skirt and gripped her thigh fiercely, kneading the soft flesh
beneath and raking his nails lightly along the inner side, never quite reaching
where he should. On her part, Mabel didn't waste any time either and reached
down between them to pull at his trousers, but suddenly her uncle broke the
kiss and pulled back slightly from her, clearing his throat lowly. The girl
frowned in confusion, hoping she hadn't misjudged Ford's resolution.

"What is it?"

"We... can't quite do that."

There was indeed hesitation on his features, but not shame or regret, so it
looked like something she could work with. She huffed in mild annoyance, but
she covered his hand with her own before replying.

"Grunkle Ford, is this the part where you lecture me about the meaning of
romanticism and the different types of love and the morality of this whole
thing? Because honestly your timing is a bit off. I've been literally stalking
you for months, I think I would have noticed if it was just a passing fancy or
if I was just so desperate for anyone to-"

"Yes Mabel, I have considered all this too, even though it isn't what I was
talking about." He interrupted her sharply, his cheeks redder than she had ever
seen them. "Thank you for reminding me what an irresponsible adult I'm being by
not questioning your reasons, by the way. I was just going to point out that we
don't have protection."
"Oh, but we do!" She beamed at him, relieved that his qualms could be quelled
so easily. "I'm going on the pill, so no worries on that side. I know I'm clean
because I haven't been with anyone since the last check-up, and I know you are
because I heard you talking with Dipper about all those hygienic procedures you
picked up to avoid interdimensional contamination, or something like that. So!
All set!"

"Wha- what?"

She could practically hear Ford's thoughts tragically derailing from their
tracks. She could have dropped that information more delicately, in hindsight.
She wrapped her arms around him again, genuinely amused.

"Why are you so surprised? You knew this wasn't my first time. And I've been
looking forward to this since forever, so of course I'd be prepared."

"Very well prepared." He commented with just a tinge of irritation. "All this
effort just for this. I don't know if I should feel more reassured or alarmed."

"Well, not exactly just for this. I do like seeing people from times to times.
I don't think I've ever made a mystery out of that."

"No. No, you haven't." He looked at her for a few moments, threading his
fingers through her hair with a small sigh. "Look, I'm... I know this must
sound exceedingly hypocritical coming from me right now, but are you sure
you're... all right? I mean, not only about this, in general, because you're
only fifteen, and yet..."

"Yes." She smiled at him, simply. It was a conversation she had already had,
with another equally concerned grunkle. It was something she had already
considered and pondered about on her own too, enough to be confident in her own
ways. "Trust me, grunkle Ford. I just... like it. It's really great, with the
right people. And it lets you learn a lot, about yourself and about others."

Ford hummed thoughtfully, but he didn't stop her when she kissed him again. It
took him a few moments, but he let himself enjoy the kiss in the end, a slow
but heartfelt contact that soothed them both. He reached up to cup her cheek
tenderly as she caressed his chest slowly.

"Is that why you're so keen on this? You want to learn something about me?"

"Hm-mh. You're a bit hard to approach at times, and that's a pity, because it's
just so obvious you're one of those broken teacups who bury the best of their
characters under piles of grumpiness and inflated ego. To think that all it
would take for anyone to love you to bits is to get to know you a little
better." The look of utter surprise he gave her made her heart positively melt.
She poked his belly with her index, a mischievous smile spreading on her face.
"Also your abs are ripped."

He snorted, then smiled, then chuckled. It felt like a real accomplishment to
see his forehead smooth and his smile resurface, to feel his arms hold her
again without his earlier hesitation.

"Right, to get to know someone. In a biblical sense too. That excuse was
already old when I was a boy."

"Okay, that thing I just said about the inflated ego? It would really help if
you could, you know, avoid nitpicking about everything everyone says,
especially about grammar and scientific trivia, and that looking-down-on-people
frowny thing you do with your eyebrows is just-"

She mercifully let him cut her off with a kiss, though she did take a mental
note to resume that particular discourse later, it had really been a long time
coming. For the time being, she'd rather focus on rebuilding that pleasant
bubble of intimacy their small chatter had nearly burst. And it was relatively
easy too, once they allowed their instincts do the talking once again. It was
just a matter of finding a rhythm again, a nice, steady one for their bodies to
rock against one another, for their tongues to lick and tease at each other,
for caresses and touches to come unbidden between them. She knew they were back
on the right tracks as soon as an unexpected nibble to her lower lip drew a
small gasp from her, and a curious hand found its way back under her skirt to
give a cheeky squeeze to her buttock. She took it as a sign it was safe to
slide her hand between them again, this time to cup the promising bulge in his
uncle's trousers and palm it firmly. She really liked how tiny and subdued
Ford's reactions to her teasing were, nothing more than a slight hitch in his
breathing, his legs spreading apart of a scant few inches to offer her a barely
wider access. It really made her want to blow his mind, one way or another. She
felt the outline of his clothed erection shamelessly, ramping up her grinding
movements in time with her fondling and dipping the fingertips of her free hand
under his waistband to twirl his pubes idly. It wasn't long before he had to
break the kiss to catch his breath, which became slightly louder and more
irregular as he looked down at Mabel's skilled hands between them and his hips
started to make some tiny swings of their own.

He let out a small groan when she abruptly stopped her ministrations, but any
comment he was about to make died on his lips when she slid off her lap to
kneel down before him. He adjusted his position slightly to let her pull down
his trousers and pants smoothly, finally revealing his member. Mabel took it in
her hand unhesitatingly, running his thumb firmly against its lower side,
finding it pleasantly hot and hard. She liked it, she decided, just like she
liked the thick mass of soft and still dark hair surrounding it, and the round,
slightly sagging sack underneath. She stroke it gently, wrapping her hand
around the shaft fully and moving from tip to base at a leasurely pace, while
laying sucking kisses and quick licks along his inner thighs. She trailed her
mouth gradually closer to his groin, stopping right in the crook of his thigh
and settling there for a while, breathing in his faintly musked scent while she
dragged a single digit along his testicles too. Again, his reaction wasn't
spectacular. Quick breaths, some minor twitching, his hand grasping the armrest
of the chair. She almost felt guilty considering how little credit she had
given to his self-restraint, in her imagination. She smirked, finally deciding
to speed things up a bit. She grabbed him firmly and slipped his tip between
her lips, teasing his slit with her tongue just for a couple of moments before
sliding him fully in her mouth. She grabbed his balls as well and started to
fondle them vigorously, squeezing and rolling first the whole thing, than each
testicle in turn. Finally, a hand landed on her head, its fingers diving
through her hair to cradle her skull with a sweet mixture of hesitation and
need. Finally an audible moan could be heard, which gave her just the right
incentive to start bobbing her head smoothly, her hand twisting around the base
of his erection and her tongue adding a few strong strokes to the stimulation.
She enjoyed the rough texture of his dick in her mouth, the slightly salty
taste of his skin and juice, the satisfying way it dragged against her lips.
Ford must have been enjoying all those things too, given the raising frequency
and volume of his whimpers and the tiny thrusts he was occasionally allowing
himself.

She kept her pace for a few minutes, basking in the soothing physicality of
that rhythmic activity, before glancing up at him. Her great uncle looked
positively mesmerized, fully engrossed in staring at the beautiful sight before
him to even remember to compose his features into a proper expression. That was
what she'd been wanting to see, but she could get more out of him, easy-peasy.
She pulled off him, taking a few deep breaths and laying a few pecks on his
sack while she purposefully bided her time. Before he could voice the
discomfort she could clearly see on his face, she was already taking him in her
mouth again, slowly, steadily. Deeply. She flattened her tongue as much as she
could and pushed her face closer and closer to his groin, relenting and pulling
back a couple of times before finally feeling his tip hit the back of her
throat. His hand flew away from her head as if it had suddenly burnt him. He
gripped the armrests so tightly that his knuckles turned a faint white tone.
The sudden silence in the room made Mabel aware that he had momentarily stopped
breathing. Luckily he resumed shortly, and then he cussed, which wasn't a
common occurrence. It took her remarkable effort, but she managed not to smirk,
God knows teeth would have ruined that priceless moment. She moved, slowly and
carefully, taking care not to choke herself out of sheer enthusiasm, relaxing
her jaw and breathing evenly. She quickly gained enough confidence to hollow
her cheeks and add some small sucking motions to her stimulation, feeling a
certain pride and satisfaction at every moan she could get out of Ford. He
muttered her name at one point, with a strangely strained tone, but she didn't
pay much attention to it, too busy revelling in the filling sensation of the
thickness in her mouth and the stretch of her lips around his girth. She
answered with a muffled moan of her own when he called her again, without
toning down her enthusiastic job one bit, until a hand grasped her shoulder and
pushed her away almost too fiercely. She backed off from him as he wished, and
gagged just for a moment, surprised by the sudden rearrangement, before she was
firmly pulled up on her feet. She barely had time to process her skirt being
lifted, a rapid gesture brushing her thighs before she felt two shockingly curt
fingers pressing right between her legs, only a thin layer of fabric separating
them from her labia. She couldn't hold back a thrilled gasp and a shudder as
they rubbed unceremoniously against her underwear, which she only just realized
was soaking wet with her own excitement, and he cussed again. She held onto his
shoulders, bearing down onto his hand instinctively and looking straight at
him, mirroring with her pleading tone the urgent hunger she saw in his eyes.

"Please, Ford."

She whimpered in disappointment when he removed his hand, but he stood up
almost immediately, staring at her and tilting his head toward the desk
meaningfully. She perked up instantly. Yes, desk. That was hot. Potentially a
tad uncomfortable, but surely hot. She took off her remaining clothes in a
heartbeat and sat on the desk while he hastily peeled his shoes and trousers
completely off. Mabel couldn't resist the temptation to just spread her legs
before him as soon as he looked up, exposing herself fully to his view. She
could get used to how endearingly easy stumping him was. It took him a good ten
seconds to manage to tear his eyes off her most intimate parts, but after that
he pulled himself together pretty quickly. He was onto her in a second,
encircling her in a tight hug and crushing his mouth against her swollen lips.
They immediately started rutting against each other, and she startled in
anticipation when his dick rubbed up against her thigh, almost, almost right
against her entrance. She pushed her hips flush against him, hoping to entice
him enough to get the goddamn point, but suddenly the contact was somehow
interrupted. Instead of his dick, there was now a hand exploring her, dipping
all its six nimble fingers in the slick juices dribbling from her, smearing
them along her delicate skin, over her clit, all over his own pads and palm.
She moaned again, rocking furiously against that teasing touch, deciding that
she could settle for that for the moment, she would accept his fingers too if
her uncle wanted to pay her back for her earlier tricks, but once again those
intoxicating sensations were taken away from her. He dragged her off the table
and shushed her protests tersely, nudging her shoulder so that she was facing
away from him and toward the desk, her hands gripping the edge for support.

She didn't have time to question Ford's logistic choices before the hand was
back against her opening, one finger running with studious intent along her
inner lips. She instictively arched her back, bending her body slightly
downwards to grant him better access. He finally, finally, thank Bunyan took
the hint and slipped it inside her, with incredible ease given how slippery she
had become. She ground her hips back, letting out an excited sigh and taking
his digit as far as it would go, the small pleasure of having at least a small
part of her great uncle inside her only making her wish for more. Ford,
however, seemed to want to take his time with spreading her, poking and probing
at her walls with languid flicks of his finger, even stilling her sharpest
thrusts by holding her shoulder with his free hand. When he had regained so
much patience, Mabel had no idea. At some point another finger slipped in, and
the others dragged firmly against her outer sides to mimick the ones
penetrating her, and it was better, better, but still not nearly as good as it
could get. She bent on the desk fully, resting her weight on her forearms and
spreading her legs widely, encouraging, goading, pleading him with small
noises, words and motions to stop playing around.

Then he surprised her. She had long since given up on trying to to tell which
finger was doing what, it wasn't important and that infuriating man had far too
many of those skilled appendages to keep track of anyway, but at one point she
could clearly feel his thumb. It was clearly his thumb that dipped for just a
split second in her entrance too, just to get some extra lubrification before
sliding back out. It travelled backwards still, across her perineum, backwards
still, until it was barely pressed against her butthole, drawing small circles
against the tight muscle. She waited, genuinely intrigued to see if it was just
the umpteenth attempt to tease her or if he would really go through with that
one.

He did. With a genuinely remarkable display of manual motor coordination, he
slipped his thumb in her rear without skipping a beat in his rhythmic thrusting
into her front. Mabel fell silent from the sheer intensity of the sensation.
That was new. That was... powerful. She had never been stimulated in both those
areas at the same time, definitely not like that. It was almost overwhelming,
and she had to still her movements for a while to get back her breath and her
bearings. Ford kept on spreading her evenly on both sides, but he slowed down
and actually stilled after her lack of response went on.

"...Too much?"

She looked behind her back and felt the unbearable urge to just hug him. He was
flushed, sweaty, aroused and tense, and utterly remorseful. She smiled at his
doubtful expression, purposefully relaxing as much as she could her lower
muscles.

"No, it's fine. Just... I'm not used to it, but I like it."

"Are you sure? I-"

"It's fine, grunkle Ford. Come on."

She egged him on with a small roll of her hips, which actually felt good. He
hesitated for another moment, then his hand resumed his movements at a slower
pace than before, while he let go of her shoulder to stroke her back gently.
And gently did it, in the end. It took nothing more than another patient and
unhurried attempt to gradually ease her into the feeling, to get her to
appreciate the depth of the sensation. Ford's thumb added another layer of
tension and stretch to the whole area that just made the pleasure building in
her pussy even more complete. And she loved, she just loved the erotic
sensation of Ford practically holding her in a single hand through and through,
his fingertips literally pushing all the right buttons in her, his palm flat
against her soft skin, his fingers sometimes slightly curling in unison, almost
as if he was trying to close his fist around her tender insides. She was
moaning again before she knew it, bucking up against those delicious
intrusions, arching her back to meet Ford's body when he bent down on her to
kiss her shoulders, her neck, her ears. She could feel his hardness again,
poking against her thighs and sliding against her buttocks as he thrusted
shallowly against her writhing form, she could feel his pants and breaths, she
could hear the obscenely wet noises of his hand dragging along her slick walls,
and she couldn't stand another minute of that wonderful torture.

"Ford."

She whimpered needily when that wholesome stimulation suddenly ceased, and she
was left empty, trembling with unsatisfied desire. She reached out behind her
as soon as she felt his tip brushing against her butt, she held him in her grip
and sunk back unhesitatingly, taking him fully in her slit with a single,
smooth motion.

"Fuck."

Third time was indeed the charm. That third curse sounded more wanton, lustful
and utterly unprepared than any other wordless moan he had uttered until that
moment. Mabel sighed, turning her head slightly to look straight at her great
uncle's stunned face.

"Yes. That. Please."

He let out a rushed breath that rumbled across his chest and through Mabel's
back like a quake, and then he did, thank Bunyan, Time Baby and the Axolotl, he
finally did. Frantically at first, with rough, irregular thrusts that served
purely to relieve some of that overwhelming pressure he had gathered in the
last hour, then more sensibly setting a rhythm he could possibly hope to
maintain for more than a single minute. Mabel had no qualms with either
approach. Ford's dick was just perfect, scalding and solid and burrowing into
her just like she wanted, plunging into her flesh with relentless purpose. She
met each of his thrusts with movements of her own, revelling in the way Ford's
arms wrapped around her to anchor them both, enjoying the weight of her uncle's
body effectively pinning her on the desk, adoring the slight prick of pain the
edge of the desk was leaving against her own thighs with each energic push.

Sooner than Mabel would have liked, Ford's fingers started tormenting her
again, this time rubbing quick circles on her clit, poking it, even pinching
it, eager not to leave her behind as he felt his own climax approaching. The
room filled with the lewd dissonance of her high-pitched cries, his harsh
groans, the sharp smacking of skin against skin as they came almost
simultaneously, Ford's last hard thrusts filling her with his warmth and
drawing waves of shudders from her as well as from him.

They both came down slowly. Mabel, in particular, wished to bask in that long-
overdue afterglow for as long as she could, and not even the awkward and
relatively uncomfortable position was enough to make her want to move an inch.
Ford moved to lift himself from her rather soon, but the girl's
handsimmediately shot back to grasp his sides and keep him exactly where he
was, with his softening dick still buried inside her. She sighed contentedly
when he lay back down on her for a while, mostly motionless save for the
occasional stroke or kiss on her shoulder, and she just enjoyed the sporadic
twitches of their joined organs as they settled down from the orgasm.

"Mabel."

"Mh?"

"Believe me when I say that I'm greatly appreciating the intimacy of this, but
I'd really like to sit down right now."

She huffed in mock annoyance and finally let go of him. She stretched her back
leisurely while he all but crumpled on the nearest chair with a weary groan.
She couldn't help but giggle at the sight, noticing how her athletic grunkle
looked far more exhausted from their recent activity than he had after a near
apocalypse. She joined him soon, sitting on his lap and snuggling comfortably
against him, exchanging a brief but fond kiss before closing her eyes and
almost dozing off for another moment, or two, or fifty. When she looked at him
again, she met the familiar sight of an old, lovely, wrinkly face spacing out
and pondering about what she had learnt to recognize as The Guilt. She tapped
his arm lightly, snapping him out of reverie.

"Uh? What is it?"

"Are you already fearing for your soul? I was hoping you could keep going at
least until sunset. The weather isn't poetic enough to inspire existential
crises yet."

"Not for my soul, no." He chuckled, but the creases on his forehead didn't
disappear. "Honestly, divine retribution concerns me far less that certain
earthly forces I'm closely acquainted with."

"For example?"

"Well." His frown deepened even more, making her really wish she could
instantly kiss all the worries away from that grumpy head. "For one, I strongly
suspect Stan would toss me into a maelstrom if he ever caught wind of this."

"Oh..."

It took her the grand time of five seconds to decide. She had indeed learnt a
few interesting things about her grunkle that day, and considering the most
recent developments, she estimated that Ford's mind could be safely blown once
more before lunchtime. She smiled fondly, caressing his arm with the utmost
serenity.

"No. I'm pretty sure he won't."
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