Disclaimer: Xena and Gabrielle (or the vague characterizations of them below) belong to RenPic and Studios USA. This ridiculous story belongs to... my neighbor. Or a friend. Yeah, that's it, a friend. Not me. No way, not me, I'd never write this. Oh, and for the intolerant: giddoudahere. It's got sex in it. Hence the word "Sex" in the title. Amazing how that works. And now, a word of explanation:
READ THIS: You know, one thing that appears to be universal (no pun intended) about fanfic is the fact that Xena and Gabrielle always have amazing sex. No matter the circumstances, the injuries, the location, the time of day -- nothing interferes with their ability to have heavens opening, sound shattering, earth moving sex. Well, for those of you who are beginning to get a complex from this, never fear, Wordee is here. Yes, I have taken it upon myself to give you a story, that can only be called:
"Oh bother. Look at me, I've fallen in this very cold river, wearing only a flimsy shift and now the white, translucent cloth is clinging to my young, nubile body, my erect nipples leaping several feet in front of me in invitation. Xena? Xena, are you paying attention here?" Gabrielle asked, hoping they'd finally have a 'first time'.
Xena glanced over and began stripping off her clothes. "The river is really that cold? Great, I need a refreshing dip." Naked, she leapt into the river, splashing about, raising her nude form far enough out of the water so that Gabrielle could see the sparkling droplets shimmering across the warrior's body. Slowly, Xena emerged, appearing more naked than any other naked person Gabrielle had ever seen.
"Xena... I want you."
"You want me to do what?"
"I want you. You know, WANT you. In a wanting sort of way."
"What, like doing the nasty? The beast with two backs? Having some major girl-girl action here in the meadow? That kinda wanting?"
"That would pretty much be it," Gabrielle said with a sensuous smile.
Xena approached the bard with sinuous grace, like an ocelot. When she was still a few feet away, Gabrielle could stand the wait no longer and threw herself into the warrior's arms. Unfortunately, she banged her head on Xena's chin, opening a small, yet wildly bleeding cut on her forehead.
Xena rubbed her chin, her teeth having cracked together when Gabrielle hit, making that one molar in the back more sore than it was before. Then she noticed the blood. "Ewww, you're bleeding."
"I am? I thought I was blinded by love," Gabrielle whispered as the cut poured blood into her now rapidly blinking left eye. She swiped at it with the back of her hand only managing to mess up her face even more.
"Maybe we should clean that up or something."
"Ignore it. I want you. And I'm not explaining that 'want you' thing again, so take me, my ferocious ocelot, take me like the beast that you are."
Xena growled, trying to imitate the animal in question but it came out sounding more like she was clearing her throat. Giving up on cat imitations, she lowered the bard to the grassy carpet of the meadow.
"Ow! Pine cone! Ow!" Gabrielle shrieked, pulling the offending item from under her back.
"Waitasec, little sharp rocks. Can we do this on the blanket or something?"
Xena sighed, got up, retrieved their blanket and brought it back as Gabrielle furiously flung small, sharp stones away from the area where they were going to have amazing sex.
"That should work," Gabrielle said as she helped Xena lay down the blanket. "Before we start, I want to tell you, in glorious detail, how long I have been longing for your long body--"
"Sex now, talk later," Xena said as she tried to remove the shift from Gabrielle's body. It clung as if painted on. And in fact, the warrior wondered if maybe turpentine would help, as both women struggled to free the bard from her sopping confines. Finally, they left it hanging off of one hopelessly stuck arm.
Gabrielle laid back on the blanket, striking a sexy pose while trying to ignore the tangled shift that was cutting off the circulation just above the elbow.
Xena's expression turned to pure lust as she climbed on top of her bard, her breasts just touching the flattened nipples of a not very turned on Gabrielle who was busy scratching her bottom. "Itchy blanket," she said with a shrug.
Not willing to be deterred, Xena lowered her full weight on her lady love.
"Can't... breathe..." Gabrielle wheezed.
Quickly, Xena adjusted herself so that she was taking some of her weight on her arms and legs. "Better?"
Lowering her mouth for a sweet kiss, Xena pushed her tongue past the bard's lips then quickly withdrew. "I forgot you had the garlic loaf for lunch."
"Shoot. We have any mint leaves?"
"Out of season."
"I'll try not to breathe too much."
Carefully avoiding any kissing, Xena caressed Gabrielle's breast. Nothing happened. Putting her attention fully on the breast, she kneaded the nipple, pinched it, blew on it, licked it, sucked it and wrote it a letter. Nothing. "Hello? Anyone home?"
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about what else I could use instead of mint. Maybe lemon?" asked Gabrielle.
"Forget the breath. Now, make it happy." Xena motioned to the still-unexcited nipple.
"Oh, just ignore it. The only time it ever does anything is when I'm really cold. Otherwise, nada. I'm just not real sensitive there."
"Whatever," Xena sighed. Getting very tired of holding her body above the bard, her muscles going past the strain point to the 'I wish a warlord would attack so I can stop leaning in this awkward position' point, Xena decided to get to the 'point' point of what they were doing. She began to slink downward, but accidentally pulled a big chunk of Gabrielle's hair.
"Ow ow ow ow"
In reaction to the pain, Gabrielle's right leg jerked, kneeing Xena squarely in the butt. Losing her balance, Xena fell on top of the bard, landing in a cloud of garlic breath. Suddenly nauseous, Xena scrambled up, not realizing that she was putting part of her weight on Gabrielle's stomach. Xena retched, Gabrielle farted.
"Let's try this again," said Xena, losing all hopes of ardor and figuring she'd just get the bard off and call it a first time.
Gabrielle eagerly spread her legs, inviting the warrior to explore the succulence within. Xena decided that the bard was warmed up enough and went right to work. With fingers, lips and tongue, she worked feverishly at coaxing the not very swollen bud to come out of hiding. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, it made an appearance.
"Oh, gods, Xena, that feels so fantastic," moaned Gabrielle.
Xena raised her head, spitting and frantically pulling small hairs from her mouth. "Good. You almost there?"
"More, need more."
"She needs more," mumbled the warrior. Diving back into the breach, Xena thrust two fingers into Gabrielle, while still working hard with tongue and lips. Gabrielle began to buck and thrust, knocking Xena in the nose. Stoically, the warrior ignored the pain, trying to keep up with the bard's movements and missing as often as she managed to grab something with her lips. She decided to do more work with those two fingers than with her mouth -- it was safer.
"Nails!!" yelped Gabrielle.
Xena withdrew her hand, saw that one nail was a little too long, bit it off, trying to smooth it with tiny nips, then went back to work.
"Harder! Faster! More! More!" screamed Gabrielle.
"Yeah, yeah," mumbled Xena playing with anything remotely in the erogenous zone in hopes that it helped.
Gabrielle continued to grind her hips, her face screwed up in torturous concentration. "Almost, almost..." Five minutes passed. "Almost, almost..." Xena began tracking the sun as she added another finger and went back to work with her mouth. "Almost, almost..."
And just when her arm muscles were about to give out and she had run out of saliva, Xena felt Gabrielle's muscles begin to clench. A high-pitched squeak escaped Gabrielle's mouth, her eyes rolled back in her head, her back arched, she pulled huge handfuls of grass out of the ground and then, and only then, did Gabrielle fake a climax.
Xena fell back in the grass, exhausted. "Ouch, pine cone," she murmured, beyond caring.
"Let's do it again, Xena. I'm really ready now," said Gabrielle. At which point she found herself sputtering to the surface of the cold, cold stream.
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