Ain't No Party Like Ours | Roger, INACTIVE

[ROGER DAVIS]

Aw. It was after hours. Roger frowned, shaking his head. "That sucks. I thought you were gonna be all like, 'yeah, I totally did it with like, a guhjillion dollar deal going on in the next room' or some shit." When Joanne stated that she was very descreet at work with her wildness, Roger smirked. "See, when I worked? I couldn't give a shit. For like, a year and a half I worked down at Lava Gina?" Roger took a gulp from the beer that the bartender had placed in front of him. "This was before I met April. One of the waitresses and I used to fuck in the back room. On the couch, on the table, against the wall. I didn't give a shit. Oh my god," Roger said, suddenlly remembering. "There was this one time, we were on the couch, right? I mean, I was on my lunch and she was on her break, so we said to ourselves, Hey! Why not fuck?," Roger stated as if every person would have thought the same thing. "So we're fucking right, and her Dad walked in! Her DAD."

Roger found himself laughing wildly. "Christ, you shoulda seen her face. I mean, there she was, balls deep on top of me and like, she's screaming, right? Her dad walks in and freaks out. I couldn't tell if she was coming or freaking out, 'cause all I heard was, Oh My God, Roger!. I almost got fired for that. She never showed up for work again. Sad, really, 'cause she was a cute little thing."

However, when Joanne continued about Jennifer, Roger felt a smirk cross his face. "Maureen's talked about Jennifer. MJ thinks she's a hot lil' number, too. Y'better get on that shit, baby. It's not every day that Maureen's willing to have a threeway, 'cause with a threeway, there's the possibility that the attention wont solely be on her. And she doesn't like being ignored. At least, that's what I've found. Asked her once when April was alive and she shot me down. I just think I didn't get her drunk enough. Or stoned enough. Either one. And maybe it was because I didn't ask like, on my birthday or something. Or Christmas. That would have been an awesome Christmas present. Even the little baby Jesus would be pleased.Oh!," Roger stated, overly loud with drunkenness, "I know why she didn't do it then. I hadn't fucked her yet. She hadn't found out how good I was, so therefore the threeway didn't fly. And then, after that, I sorta just...forgot about it and just had sex with April instead."

[joannejefferson]

Joanne was in an extremely good mood, and was even laughing at his incredibly hilarious story, but then Roger went and did the dumbest thing he probably could have ever done. He took the two greatest lovers Joanne had ever had and put them and the word threesome together.

Needless to say, Joanne was not at all happy about the idea. Granted, the images it immediately brought to her mind of the two most beautiful women she'd ever seen writhing beneath her in ecstacy was pretty much an instant turn on. However, it was no secret that Joanne's jealousy ran deep, and the thought of anyone touching Maureen was enough to make her a little bit crazy. Roger had suggested that Jennifer be the one doing the touching, and Joanne quite literally lost her mind for a few moments.

No one, absolutely no one was supposed to get Maureen because Maureen was hers and hers alone. Jennifer was almost exactly the same. Well, okay Joanne didn't care too much who Jennifer was with as long as that person treated her well. That being said, Maureen was not supposed to touch Jennifer and Jennifer was not supposed to touch Maureen. It wasn't going to happen even if it happened with Joanne present and involved. Nope, that wasn't allowed because Jennifer was mindblowing and Maureen was mindblowing and two mindblowing girls going at was sure to push lil Jo right on out the picture.

Insecurity was a bitch, especially when drunk, so it really shouldn't have come as a surprise when Joanne whirled to face Roger, anger lining her face. Her voice came out in a low growl, sounding more like an angry feline than a human being.

"Not in a million fucking years. That shit will not fucking happen, ever. I'd kill them both."

Yep, she was a little of kilter, and the sensuous arousing images in her mind were not helping to abate the immediate bad feeling settling in her chest. She gave Henry a frantic wave, needing another drink to drown out the images before she punched Roger in the face for putting them there.

[ROGER DAVIS]

There was a good mood, a very good mood going on, and Roger was sure that he was having one of the best...days? Nights? It was night somewhere, so Roger figured that it could classify as a night. Joanne was looking sexy...actually, really sexy just then, and Roger swallowed down a gulp of his beer before nodding drunkenly at her, though she hadn't said anything.

However, Joanne suddenlly turned harsh and growly, and Roger's brows narrowed, almost overdramatically as she burst out with a very direct and harsh statement. He actually jerked slightly as she spun around, nearly falling off the stool. Roger slowly lowered the bottle from his lips.

"...No, y'wouldn't." Roger said after a moment. "Or maybe you would. But you knock out one or two orgasms before you murdered them both." Roger replied slowly. "...so does this mean I can't imagine it like, in the middle of the night anymore?"

Well, he thought silently. It didn't matter. He was still gonna.

"C'mon! I don't like you when you're all," Roger made a bad impression of her current facial expression as he lifted his fingers up, imitating claws. "We're drinking! We're both sexy and drinking and--and you know what? I won't let you ruin this sexy drinking thing we've got going on. I just won't. I like, object. To like, the fullest extent. OBJECTIO--" Roger slammed his hand down on the table at the word, but he didn't have a chance to get it out, as his hand crashed into the empty beer bottles, sending them crashing down onto the counter. Instantly, a laugh bubbled, almost giggling from his lips as he brought a finger to his lips, shushing her.

"Oops." Roger said, trying to set them back upright, but he managed to only get a few. Some of the patrons, what little where were, were probably looking over. "Oops. Sorry. Objection." Roger whispered in stage whisper, ducking down slightly as if no one could hear them. "You made me do that. You went from being all sexy to all like, grr and you made me do that. That wasn't nice." Roger paused, eyeing her, and then shook his head dramatically, pointing with a finger.

"No. No, you're still all sexy. You're just really...mad. Mad and Sexy. I like mad and sexy."

[joannejefferson]

Okay so Roger was right. She probably wouldn’t kill them, and even if she did she’d make sure to get her jewels off them first. That was just kind of the rules of being too damn awesome at sex. You got your guns off before you royally fucked the other person. That’s just how it happened. Or at least that was how it should happen.

So, Joanne found herself nodding along as he spoke, then laughing loudly at his attempt to recreate her evil face, as it was often called. He was right, they were drinking and being sexy, and drinking and sexy didn’t mix with mad. Of course, his objection was a little overzealous and ended up sending the unknown amount of beer bottles between them crashing down the counter. That made her giggle like a schoolgirl, especially at his attempts to set the upright again and the stage whispering. Really, getting plastered with Roger was the second most entertaining thing ever. The first being … well come on that has to be obvious by now.

Anywho, Roger was now blaming her for his little outburst, and she just nodded along drunkenly, not really understanding how it was her fault but totally agreeing that it more than likely was. Insert his dramatic headshake here, and the continuous examination of her being sexy.

“Awwww, thanks baby. You’re sexy too. And, hey, hey… you know what…” Here, her stomach rumbled a bit, and she looked down at it in total drunken awe. “I think I’m hungry. We should like leave and get food. Then we can be sexy, not so hungry drunks.” Her head was nodding about now, an unnecessary agreement with herself. Then, grinning wickedly, she leaned toward him and whispered softly. “If you play nice, I’ll take you back to my apartment and show you my sexy stuff…. Well, some of it.”

[ROGER DAVIS]

Aww, thanks baby. You're sexy, too. And hey, hey...you know what...

"What?" Roger asked, eyes slightly widened as if Joanne was going to give him the secret to eternal life. When she stated that she thought she was hungry, Roger nodded over exagerating. "Food. I like food. I am so down for--for food." Roger's voice trailed off slightly as he started lifting the bottles, one by one as he shook them slightly to find the half-drunk one that he had thought he still had. "c'mon. Al-co-hol, al-co-hol, beeeeer," he drunkenly sing-songed, before he held up the beer in triumph. "BEER!" Roger moved, downing the last bit of beer in the bottle before he saw Joanne grin. His smile slowly started to drop as she mentioned playing nice and then sexy stuff and damn it if his mind didn't go completely out into the gutter. No. No, this was further than the gutter. This was swimming in New York Sewage. Ew. Sewage.

While he was sure that Joanne couldn't do a sexy dance as well as Mimi could, he was sure that she could at least give his girl a run for his money. "Sexy stuff, huh?"

He could feel her breath, hot and still smelling like alcohol on his lips, and he felt his tongue out to lick at his suddenly dry lips. "How 'bout we get something to go and get right to the sexy stuff?"

God. God, this was bad. He was having bad, bad thoughts about his best friend's girlfriend. His best friend's very lesbian girlfriend and he was very taken with a very feisty feline. His voice was a whisper, lips almost touching Joanne's. She smelled really good. Why did she smell so fucking good?!

"Son of a bitch. You are a very wicked little girl, you know that?"

[joannejefferson]

Somewhere there was apparently a rule that lesbians were supposed to be great big teases to straight men. You know, that whole idea of look but you can’t touch. Or at least, Joanne had been told that quite a few times, and really she’d been known to turn even the straightest of straight women’s heads. It was a gift, and one that she didn’t often employ what with her control freak paranoia and general inability to open up to people emotionally. That tended to translate into the well known ’fuck off vibe’ Joanne gave off, and really, it wasn’t something that attracted anyone too much.

Now, don’t misunderstand. Joanne’s really not as hard as she often makes herself out to be. She’s really just a big ol’ softie sometimes. She’s just really opinionated, and uncompromising, and well.. Lawyerish. That’s just who she was, and those who befriended her learned to love and ignore it. Bearing that in mind, Joanne loves to tease. In fact, it’s something like her guilty pleasure. The only problem is that Joanne’s so good at hiding things, people didn’t get to see it very often. Remember: obsessive compulsive control freak paranoia. She didn’t like to admit it, but that’s just a part of her personality.

That’s the funny thing about being drunk though. It tends to loosen your inhibitions, and Joanne was seriously drunk, almost to the point of not functioning properly. For that reason, and that reason alone, she was happily let her wicked bitch of a tease out to play with her wonderfully accepting friend Roger. See, she knew Roger would take it, and give almost as good as he got, and if she wasn’t a straight up lesbian, it could have turned into more than just innocent teasing. Really, that’s all it was. Good ol’ innocent teasing. After all, Roger sort of deserved it for putting the wonderful images of that nauseating threesome in her mind. Now that had been unfair. Teasing her with things to make her mad. But still sexy. Sexy is good.

Sexy was great if Roger’s eagerness was anything to judge by. Chuckling, she grabbed some cash out of a random pocket and slammed it on the counter. Roger was dangerously close, hanging on her every word, and it was pretty clear she’d hooked him with her handcuffs and sexy stuff. Yeah, sexy was excellent. Joanne slid off the barstool, her body damn near colliding with Roger’s but remaining muted to a slight brush of body against body. Then she was hanging her briefcase across her shoulders and heading toward the door. “Come on, Rog. Can’t see the sexy if you stay here.” If that didn’t get him moving, nothing would.

[ROGER DAVIS]

Now, yes, Roger would eagerly admit that he was buzzed. But full-on drunk or just mildly buzzed, anyone that looked halfway decent that mentioned anything about sexy time and sexy buisness, well, Roger was a complete and utter sucker for. 'Speshally when it was Joanne. Because somewhere, in his brain, Joanne lead to Maureen which lead to sexy adventures in lesbian beds. Sure, maybe he was over-thinking the situation, but he was drunk.

Overthinking was allowed. When it came to lesbians, Roger reached for stars that he'd never catch.

"I wanna see--" Roger hopped down from the barstool drunkenly, nearly crashing into another stool before he moved, drowning the last gulp of beer from the beer bottle. "I wanna see sexy, wait up!"

Following after her out of the bar, Roger nodded, though she hadn't said anything. "You know, you are a sexy bitch. I don't think I've told you that, but you're sexy as hell. You--you and Maureen make a sexy couple. Maureen--" he said the Diva's name as if he had some big secret to tell her, "Maureen is just an amazing couple by herself. And the fact that she's with you? I mean, that just blows it out of the water. 'Cause you've got the--you know, you've got a fantastic ass, baby. And your boobs are just--just fucking fantastic, really. You should wear skirts more often. Skirts and--and shirts. Shirts with ruffles. I like ruffles. God, speaking of Ruffles, I'm starving. We should order take-out. Take out and have it brought up to your--your place." Roger looked up at one of the tall buildings, nearly falling over. "God, that's tall."

[joannejefferson]

Joanne was enjoying Roger's drunken speech a whole helluva lot. Compliment after compliment after compliment was spilling from drunken lips, and really who doesn't enjoy being told the multiple ways in which they are sexy? So her thoughts were going something like this: yes Roger we do make an amazing couple. yes Roger I do have a fantastic ass. yes Roger my boobs are fucking amazing, and fun to touch too if the way Maureen plays with them is anything to judge by. She also had an extremely large and confident smile on her face.

Then, an insanely miraculous totally the fault of her being drunk thing occurred. Roger almost fell over due to looking straight up while inebriated. Not really thinking about what she was doing, Joanne stepped over to him, attempting to catch him and hold him up. This, naturally, was a very bad idea considering she was just as drunk as he was, and her lack of balance only helped her knock him to the ground. Adding further horror to this, she attempted to keep him from falling yet again, and the entanglement of their limbs pulled her down with him until they hit the ground.

At this point, Joanne knew that she was seriously stupefied drunk. She had to be because the totally illicit thoughts she was now thinking about her blonde buddy were just too crazy to even comprehend. All she knew was that Roger's warm body lay entangled beneath her and it was an incredibly good feeling having him there. If they weren't in the middle of the street she might have even been tempted to do something stupid; like kiss him. Obviously, you can see why that desire was incredibly confusing.

Joanne's a lesbian, a serious hardcore lesbian to the point that the thought of even being that close to a man has the potential to make her nauseous. Yet, there she was, laying there with absolutely no thought of getting up, wanting nothing more than to taste his alcohol flavored lips. Sure, Jo and Rog had kissed before, but it was light and playful, a joke almost, and nothing at all like seriously charged make-out session that was currently prancing through her brain.

So she laid there, perfectly still, allowing herself to enjoy the closeness without regarding the serious repercussion her actions could have. A flirtatious smirk appeared on her face, and desire darkened her brown eyes as she looked down at him. "I think take out is a good idea." She said softly, her voice a husky inviting whisper.

Oh yeah. She was really seriously plastered.

[ROGER DAVIS]

"This buildings---when did New York get tall, bab--"

And then, his head spun, and the world spun right along with it, and soon, he felt Joanne's arms around him and soon, they were crashing to the ground. He felt a slight yelp escape his lips, and then a grunt pushed through his lips as the air escaped his lungs. "Owww," he nearly groaned, until he realised, through a drunken haze, that Joanne Jefferson, a very sexy Joanne Jefferson was sitting on top of him. A sexy, hardcore Lesbian was sitting right up on his lap. All up right up on his lap.

A breath escaped his lips as he shifted slightly up against her, feeling the hard, dirty sidewalk under him. His mind was spinning and heart was pounding and fuck she even smelled good.

Her voice was a husky whisper, and even against the harsh sounds of the New York streets he could easily hear it from her lips.

I think take out is a good idea.

A breath escaped his lips as he felt her lips, so close that he could feel her warm breath on his lips. "...delivery." he said, his voice almost a whisper before he lifted his lips, pressing them almost cautiously against hers. He could taste the alcohol on her lips and his, and he brought his hands up, pressing fingers through the tight curls of her hair.

Breaking from her lips, he felt an actual shutter travel through his body, looking up at her with an almost stupidly drunken smile on his lips.

Then, a harsh sting of pain traveled from the small of his back, and he jerked slightly. "Ow! Ow, my ass!" he cried, jerking up slightly to reach under him. He pulled a rusty bottle cap from under him and frowned.

"Pokin' my ass." he muttered drunkenly.

[joannejefferson]

Seriously, Joanne should have seen the touch of Roger's lips coming. I mean honestly, Roger is an openly sexual man, and he's made no bones about the fact that he would totally do her if given the chance. Still, she was too focused on how utterly nice having him so close felt. Thus, when their lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss, Joanne was powerless to do anything but enjoy it.

Abruptly Roger pulled away and starting whining about what was apparently a bottle cap fucking up the mood. (Note to you the reader: bottle caps are major cock blockers.) This, of course, served to knock Joanne's brain into gear, at least partially anyway. She glared down at the bottle cap, then turned her eyes to Roger, upon whom the gaze softened. "Delivery it is." Her lips descended to meet his again, planting a firmer, less hesitant version of the one he'd gifted her with. Then she pulled herself to her feet and smiled down on her friend, remembering her drunken state enough to not volunteer to help him up lest they end up on the ground again. "Come on. Get that scrawny ass off the ground. We've got places to get to."

[ROGER DAVIS]

Delivery it is.

In the back of his mind, there was a tiny voice that told him to stop. That he had a girlfriend, ahd she probably wouldn't be too happy to see or hear that Joanne had been on top of him, kissing him.

Her next kiss was firmer, and Roger felt a slight moan escape his lips, fingers pulling at her tight curls harder than before. But then, she was standing above him, and Roger frowned deeply, looking up at her. "Hey!" he slurred, pointing up at her. "Get back down here."

She nearly demanded that he stand up, and Roger frowned as he scrambled to his feet, trying not to fall over in the process. "I--" he started, as if giving her some great proclamation. "--I am not scrawny! I am completely not scrawny, and--and if you don't stop being mean to me, you may not get anymore."

Though, her words about having places to get to rang through his head, and the little voice that had been protesting had been ignored.

Thankfully, her apartment building was not far from the bar, and he laced his fingers through hers as they walked. Roger found himself almost giggling drunkenly as he tried to go into the circular door opening, nearly getting stuck before he came out on the other side.

"Oh my god I thought I was gonna be stuck forever! Stupid door! Who the fuck makes those--those doors?!" he stated, stumbling towards the elevator. He repeatedly pushed the up button, and then found himself giggling at the double-meaning of the elevator. He turned, leaning against the wall, both to keep himself upright, and because the wall was nice and cool. He eyed her, head to toe, her legs going on forever under her black shirt and black jacket. He made a mental bet in his mind that she had matching bra and panties, but he had a feeling that he wasn't going to have to wonder, in the end.

He reached out, pulling her to him as one hand slid through her soft hair, and the other slid down to her hips. Their lips met almost violently before he heard the dig of the elevator doors opened, and he stumbled back into them, his back hitting the railing with a grunt.

"Hit the button." he mumbled into her mouth, hands already working to slide the blazer off of her shoulders, hearing it drop to the floor.

[joannejefferson]

There should have been a voice in the back of her mind pretty much freaking out at this point. It should have been saying "JOANNE ELISE JEFFERSON WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? THIS IS A MAN WITH HIS TONGUE DOWN YOUR THROAT! INSTANT TURN OFF WOMAN! INSTANT!" If that had happened, she might have listened because seriously obsessive compulsive control freak here. The only explanation she might later force herself to believe was that she was utterly stupefied drunk. The truth of the matter though was that for the first time in her short life she was actually a little bit curious and as they say curiosity was about to make some serious murder on this cat.

So as Roger led her to her apartment building, giggling like a little kid in his drunken state, she laughed right along with him, totally eclipsed in her state of inebriation. No other words could describe how she felt beyond intrigued and excited. Something insane was about to happen and for once she was going to go with it. Besides, its not like anyone would ever find out about it and seriously she probably wouldn't even remember it because she'd killed a good chunk of brain cells with the excessive amount of alcohol she'd downed in the last few hours.

She couldn't help but be incredibly amused by Roger getting stuck in the revolving door, especially considering that she got stuck right along with him. When they stumbled out of it, she giggled at his drunken rant and the utter stupidity of revolving doors. Really, who had come up with the idea of doors that go in circles? It was pointless. Then she followed him to the elevator where things took a turn decidedly in a much warmer direction.

He was leaning against the wall, giggling, and then suddenly she felt his eyes walking up and down the incredible vision that was her body. At this point a warning should have rang bells in her head, but thanks to the slowness caused by being plastered beyond comprehension that warning did not occur. Rather, she stood there grinning and waited for him to make a move. Naturally, he did, and she was officially caught up.

Roger wasn't hesitant at all, which was a serious turn on for Joanne. Here's a secret for those who wonder: Joanne Jefferson is a seriously wild lover and for whatever reason sex is the one environment in which she isn't afraid to relinquish control. So when he pulled her into a rather violent kiss, his hand playing in her hair, she was helpless to do anything but return the passion full force. After all, Joanne never does anything halfway.

Step for step she followed him into the elevator, continuing the crazy dance of their slips. Her hands splashed out, hitting the button for her floor. The chill of the air met her skin as Roger slipped the blazer from her shoulders. She pulled back for a split second, her eyes traveling to the entirely too expensive blazer before deciding she really didn't give a fuck. Her hand slid up into Roger's messy blonde hair while the other began to explore the rest of him.

The elevator rose swiftly, and not a few moments later Joanne was pulling them out the doors and toward her apartment. God, had she had practice doing this. By the time they got to the door of her apartment, she had no idea when or how she'd reached down to pick up her blazer, or how her keys had suddenly appeared in her hand. Every single time this happened (and seriously, with Maureen this happened often) she was just magically able to balance all of that while still keeping one hand firmly locked in her lover's hair.

So, the door opened and she was pulling them inside, kicking the door shut firmly behind them. Then, and only then, was she forced to break the kiss. She had to breathe at some point right?

"Wow."

[ROGER DAVIS]

Sure he was sorta a blur; there was an elevator and a hallway, and then he felt himself being almost pulled into, as Roger opened his eyes briefly to realise, Joanne's apartment. He'd have to notch this onto his 'things I did before I died' list, though he realised that it had already been done. Sort of. Though, Maureen wasn't necessarily a Lesbian. She just loved everyone and everything without batting an eye. Joanne, however, was seemingly the leader of the 'plastic penis is the only penis between us' brigade. Which made the situation almost comical.

She broke from his lips, whispered a Wow and Roger felt himself smile as he felt his breathing hitched up from their kissing. "See, we don't have cooties." Roger told her, and then pressed his lips against hers with the same almost furious urging that they had only moments before. His fingers, though fumbling, tried to work at the buttons of her shirt, though he became frustrated, breaking from her lips to look down at his fingers that didn't seem to want to work for such a simple task.

He simply chose, in the end, to pull, watching as the buttons flew off. He was sure the shirt cost more than his life, but she was rich.

She could deal with it.

Her bra was black and lacy, and for a minute, he looked down and simply chuckled, until he looked up at her with a smirk. "Maureen has the same bra. In red. But I'm sure you know."

He lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it to the floor. The little voice inside his head was nearly screaming at him to stop, but hey. What people didn't know (and what he probably wouldn't remember later) wouldn't hurt anyone.

He brought up a hand, pulling her to him once more, his fingers tangling and pulling lightly through her hair. "I can still taste appletini." he mumbled against her lips with a smile, reaching around to unzip her very expensive skirt. He let it drop to the floor, his lips slipping to her neck.

"Betcha didn't think at the end of the day you'd be here, did you?" Of course, he hadn't expected it, either. "You told me you were gonna show me sexy things. Show me sexy things near a bed."

[joannejefferson]

See we don't have cooties.

No, they didn't or at least Roger didn't. In fact, Roger was probably the first man Joanne could say she was really attracted to. That's not to say she didn't ever see a man she thought was handsome because she had. It's just that Roger was the first man she'd ever considered going beyond a hello with. She'd been kissed by men before. She'd done the make-out thing. She'd done the first date thing during her parents denial stage. This however was new. She was willing to try it though. Just this once.

Oh yes, blame this insane shit on the alcohol.

Then, Roger was kissing her again, with the same passion he'd had before. Between momentary separation of their lips, she found herself chuckling softly at his inability to get her shirt off. Trust the drunk rocker to have trouble with buttons. Everyone did. That was just a fact of buttons. Probably why she always wore button down shirt because she enjoyed the total foreplay of taking off each and every one of them. Sadly, or not so sadly, Roger wasn't exactly patient and so he just ripped her seventy dollar shirt in half. Not that she minded because he was eying her with that smirk of his, and she couldn't help but grin impishly in response.

Hell yeah Maureen had the same bra. Joanne knew good clothing when she saw it and seriously, Maureen didn't skimp when it came to sexy. That little red number was an incredible to put on and take off the Diva's body again and again and again.... and now Joanne was practically melting from imagining it. Of course, Roger chose that moment to start kissing her again, and as his lips descended soft moans rolled off her tongue. She was caught between the images in her mind and Roger's expert touch, the alcohol in her system making it impossible to differentiate.

He was nicer with the skirt, which was good because whenever she broke out of this stupor she'd be really pissed if he fucked up a three hundred dollar skirt. Rich or not, shit was expensive. She laughed again when he started talking, the truth in his words incredibly amusing. This wouldn't have entered her dizziest hallucinations, let alone her thoughts earlier that day. The impish grin returned when he mentioned her promise of sexy things. She had promised, but seriously, didn't he understand by now?

"I am a sexy thing in the bed, baby." Now, it was her turn to assault Roger's body with the oh so pleasant touch of her lips against his skin, and so she began to trace his body with delicate kisses. Her hands slid down his sides to the pants he wore (thank whoever's up there he was wearing pajama pants) and as her lips descended so did his pants. Then, grinning, she worked her way slowly back up and smiled at him once she was upright.

Now came the moment of truth, and Joanne was a little hesitant to be extremely forward because seriously, she wasn't all that positive of what she was doing. So, she decided to just play the game the only way she knew how. Aggressively with a huge amount of tease. Grinning, she spun around him and grabbed his hand, pulling him as she walked backward towards her bedroom. Gratefully, it wasn't very far, and within moments she was throwing him on the plush king-sized bed and then slowly crawling on top of him.

There came a moment of silence at that point. She was staring down into his eyes totally absorbed in the hunger for satisfaction that was driving her. The thought that this was utterly stupid was silenced in the back of her mind. In all honesty, it had never even spoken up. For once in her life, Joanne was submitting totally and completely to her inhibitions, and it couldn't have been in a worse situation.

It was only a matter of time before this blew up in her face.

[ROGER DAVIS]

I am the sexy thing in the bed, baby.

Somewhere, he knew this was wrong, but her lips were traveling down, kissing down his stomach and he felt his stomach shift and clench at her lips. "Baby..." A sigh escaped his lips as he worked his fingers through her hair. "I'm starting to really think you were lying when you say you've never slept with a guy before, 'cause fuck you really can turn one on."

Then, her hands were leading him to the bedroom, and then he felt himself being nearly shoved onto the large, plush bed. It was soft underneath him, much softer than his own bed, and he figured that's what money got you. Nice, soft things.

Then again, he was poor as shit and he had a nice, soft thing sitting right on top of him. A murmur of satisfaction and almost amusement came, humming in his throat as he lifted himself up, pressing his lips against her neck. "You taste good." he murmured against the curve of her neck, moving to sink his teeth lightly into the soft flesh.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't drank in...well, in an hour or so, or maybe it was the simple fact that this bedroom, this bed didn't feel like his bed. It didn't feel like his bed, and Joanne, while smelling completely and utterly fucking fantastic, didn't smell like Mimi.

What the holy fuck were they doing?!

In a moment of (possibly forced) sobritity, Roger actually pulled back, looking at Joanne with almost a slightly shocked look. He was going to have sex. With Joanne.

Sex with Joanne.

"Stop" He tried to not sound scared, but it crept up into his voice as he almost scrambled to get her off of him. They couldn't do this...they both had people they cared about, but worse off than that...Roger was sick.

"G-Get off, s-stop." he whispered sharply, scrambling under her to pull his knees to his chest, his breath hitched. He was still turned on, so much more than he knew, but he was kicking himself hard into the nuts. He ran his shaking hands hard through his hair, a harsh sigh escaping his lips.

"God. Fuck."