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    American Werewolves in London: Time After Time

    Story written on April 13, 2008 by helebette.
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    Number of Comments: 13
    Words: 2854
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=69231
    Author Notes:

    bette and helena get cabin fever…but who the heck would mind dealing with it the way these two do?

    I am a passenger

    I stay under glass

    I look through my window so bright

    I see the stars are out tonite…

    Stars made for us tonite…

     

    “Ok…so…what do you hear?” Bette wiggled beneath Helena on the bed, sighing in her aroused state, but keeping herself under control. Their little games were turning her on more than she thought she should admit. Helena was straddling her in nothing but a white lace thong, and a stethoscope around her neck.  Bette ran her fingertips over the material of the lace edges then up and down Helena’s back, shoulders, breasts and belly.  She could feel the dampness of Helena’s arousal, pressing against her belly, and lifted her hips again to grind harder.  Helena seemed almost shy for a moment but shook it off with a grin.

     

    “Hmmmm…” Dr. Helena Peabody, former Emergency Room renegade, whose turn to the world of the undead had left her unemployed, was naked, straddling her girlfriend, and taking her blood pressure.  She maintained her role, but allowed her hips to press downward for just a moment, and even allowed Bette to slip her fingers briefly beneath the only clothing she wore, before withdrawing again. “Ms. Porter, I’m afraid something is wrong with your heart…”  Helena made a big show of checking again, moving the cool metal around Bette’s chest, then taking her blood pressure for a second time (it was a bit high but otherwise normal, much to her surprise).

     

    “How long do I have Doctor?” Bette gasped as Helena shifted again.

     

    “Probably forever.” Helena giggled. She cleared her throat and resumed the game. Taking blood pressure hadn’t been her idea of naughty fun, but Bette got the strangest kick out of it. Helena threw the cuff and stethoscope aside, then began caressing and stroking Bette’s breasts in a decidedly unprofessional manner. “Time for your full physical…” She murmured, her lips descending.

     

    After long moments of this, Helena’s thigh pressed between Bette’s legs, and the game took an even more unprofessional turn.  Bette grinned, clasping Helena’s hips, and let the flustered woman grind against her, back and forth until she trembled beneath Bette’s palms.  Bette spoke quietly, telling Helena how beautiful she was, how lovely, how desirable, her words causing a deep throbbing building desire within Helena until she turned the tables and reached back with her hand and took away Bette’s self control. 

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    Comments

    1. Crap, I’ve got 3 stethescopes and 2 blood pressure cuffs (that’s sphygmomanometer to you!) and a lot of fucking good they do me! If Bette gets that much of a thrill from the cuff, maybe she’s a candidate for one of those full-body, rubber blow-up suits-it’ll squeeze every square inch of her. You would suppose that it might keep one (or one’s lover) at rather a remove from satisfaction, though. Never really understood the attraction of that sort of thing myself. 2 days of wearing a blood pressure cuff in ICU was no fun and as likely to wake you as phlebotomist wanting a blood sample. I’m glad to say I didn’t see any of them flashing fangs on the overnight shift, just the usual tournaquet and needle. Ah, good times! But maybe not as good as the night on the town about to commence. That is, about to commence if you don’t delay. Hurry! Next chapter! More!

    2. oh, i am 97% positive that someone has a serious fetish for just such a full body rubber blow up suit. i would bet my latte on it. oops, can’t do that, its a cappuccino and its almost gone anyway.

    3. If I was stuck in an apartment with Bette for an indefinite period, the last thing I’d do is develop a severe case of cabin fever. If things go awry in the outside world, I trust Bette and Helena will return to the great indoors post-haste and resume their yummy role-playing.

    4. Hey Hel, so happy your story had a new chapter. And I loved it!! Being stuck in a room together like oh so sexy and you know they really love each other. The feel each other’s pain and are there for one another as Bette finally complied to let Helena have some space outside their hideout, I can only imagine what is about to come out of that……

    5. Bette doesn’t realize that a nuclear weapon will, most likely, vaporize you in seconds, if not less. A vampire or werewolf would rip you to shreds and you’ll feel your life slipping away.

    8. I refuse to make wagers with the dregs of other peoples’ candified coffee drinks. However, I’m 100% sure a number of people do have a serious rubber blow-up suit fetish, equally sure it ain’t me. You’ve been reading my comments long enough to know that to me even lacy undergarments are superfluous. Good, clean, dirty fun! That’s my motto! On the other hand, I’m not sure I should take your protestations of not liking it rough at face value. BTW, The Passenger is one of my most favoritest Iggy Pop songs, and I’m also quite fond of Siouxsie and the Banshees’ version of same.

    9. pfft…ask sofa, i’m a sensitive sort. those banshee people kinda scare me, though i did like that youtube video of their version of the passenger. they also do a pretty good ‘helter skelter’ dunno if you caught that one. you and your superflr…whateverness..i’m going to have to google that word, because are you saying you don’t like lacy thongs or you do like them? i haven’t a clue. i just thought you hated it when someone in the united states called them pants. lol, silly united states, you know you guys are largely british right? revolution my a…anyway. lol

    10. OK, so you’re sensitive. (of course you are, look at the subtleties your characters can contain when you aren’t running them through the horror and mayhem gauntlet). And I bet you can handle a dictionairy with the best of them (should google fail you). All I was saying is that with the right partner, props and costumes really aren’t necessary. Unless you’re a thespian. “Curtains up! Light the lights!” So you’re calling me British, huh? Well, uh, well, uh, you might largely be right.

    11. Aw, I was hoping they’d get around to the Professor and Teaching Assistant part of their games… I hope this outing doesn’t bring trouble… but I’m betting it will. cheers for the chapter, hb

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