
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/823214.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Bates_Motel_(2013)
  Relationship:
      Bradley_Martin/Dylan_Massett
  Character:
      Dylan_Massett, Bradley_Martin, Norman_Bates
  Additional Tags:
      Merry_Month_of_Masturbation_Challenge, Underage_Sex, Cunnilingus, Present
      Tense
  Collections:
      Merry_Month_of_Masturbation_2013
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-05-30 Words: 1125
****** She's Touch, Smell, Sight, Taste, and Sound ******
by lionessvalenti
Summary
     Bradley wants it, and Dylan can't resist.
Notes
     Title comes from "She's So High" by Tal Bachman.
It's not supposed to go like this, Dylan thinks as he stands in Bradley's
bedroom. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "How old are you?"
he asks. He knows she goes to school with Norman, but maybe he's got lucky
here. Maybe she was born late in the year, or was held back in elementary
school, but he doubts that because she's sharp.
"I'll be eighteen in two months," she replies. She's already unbuttoning her
shirt.
"Two months," Dylan repeats. It doesn't sound like that long, but who knows
what could happen in two months. He's the adult here. He has to know better.
But now her shirt is on the floor. "I could go to jail for this."
"Only if I tell." Bradley reaches behind and unhooks her bra. "You helped me
out when you didn't have to. You didn't even ask for anything in return. I like
you. You're like the one person who doesn't expect anything from me."
It's not like Dylan hasn't done anything illegal. His job is illegal. But this
is bad. This is really bad. He should walk away right now, but she's
unbuttoning her jeans. She's pulling them down his her thighs. He takes his
hands out of his pockets and rubs his thumbs over his sweaty palms.
"I want this," she says. She kicks her jeans aside and steps forward. She
twists her hands around his jacket and pulls him closer to her. She presses her
mouth to his, and she's soft. Her mouth, and her body as his hands gravitate to
her hips. She's soft.
She wants this.
Dylan kisses her her like he's ripping into her. His hands slide down the back
of her underwear and they fall back together onto the bed. "Sorry," he says.
Bradley laughs. "Are you going to do this with all your clothes on?"
"I shouldn't be doing this at all," he replies. He pulls away, but not far.
Just enough to untangle himself from her. He tugs down her underwear until he
pulls them off of her and then encourages her legs open. He lowers his head,
and she grabs his shoulder.
"What are you doing?" she asks. Her eyes are wide, but not panicked. Surprised.
Dylan grins. "You need to stop dating teenagers," he says and he laps at her.
He starts slowly, just licking along her labia, because it's her first time and
he wants her to adjust to the new sensation.
"That's so weird," she says with a breathless giggle.
He knows he shouldn't keep going because she's young, she's illegal, but he
doesn't stop. The taste of her, her scent, is intoxicating. He runs his hands
along the inside of her thighs. He finds her clit with his tongue. She moans
and he's caught. He can't stop now, not even if he wanted to, and he can feel
his erection constricted in his jeans.
Bradley threads her fingers into his hair. "Oh my god."
Dylan suddenly understands the meaning of eating out in a way he never has
before. He's devouring her. He can't get enough. His tongue works against her
clit and she writhes.
"Dylan," she gasps, his name rolling off her lips like worship. "Dylan."
"Bradley," he mumbles, his mouth still busy, his breath hot on her cunt. Saying
her name makes it real. He's doing this. It's happening. He doesn't want to
forget.
He can't forget, not as she comes, her thighs tightening around his head, and
her fingers pulling at his hair. She cries his name with abandon. There's no
one else who can hear her.
Her thighs relax, and Dylan lifts his head. Her face his red and her breasts
are heaving. He licks his lips. "Did you like it?"
Bradley opens her eyes and she stares at him like he's crazy. "Did you like
it."
She's still worried that her taste is weird or it smells bad, but it was
perfect. "It was great," he replies. He sits up on his knees, never taking his
eyes off of her, and he rubs the front of his jeans.
"Should I--?" she starts, but Dylan holds up his other hand to stop her.
"Just stay there," he says. "You're perfect," he says.
He lowers the zipper on his jeans and pulls out his dick. It's been craving
touch ever since Bradley took off her shirt. He holds it at the base, his
fingers curling around his balls, and he begins to stroke with his other hand.
Bradley, even though she's still flushed from her orgasm, dips a finger into
her slit.
Dylan swallows hard. He can still taste her on his tongue. He doesn't think. He
just wraps his hand around the head of his cock and he concentrates his efforts
there. Bradley is right in front of him, on display, and she's perfect. She's
so perfect. He bites his lower lip and --
===============================================================================
Norman comes hard. Come splatters across the floor of the bathtub and already
the cold water is pulling it toward the drain.
He doesn't know that it happened. Maybe Dylan and Bradley are just friends.
Maybe it's all innocent. But Norman knows how good Bradley feels. He knows what
she's like in his arms. She's irresistible. She's perfect. If she wanted him,
there's no way Dylan could resist.
His hands curl into fists at his sides. Rage courses through him, and he can
feel the world growing fuzzy around him.
Until there's a sharp knock at the door. "Norman, what the hell are you doing
in there? You've been int here for half an hour!" Norma calls. The door knob
rattles. "The door's locked." She sounds surprised.
"I'm showering, Mother!" Norman replies hastily. He grabs onto the shower
curtain and pulls it back, the rings holding it up scraping against the metal
bar. "Just -- just a minute!" He glances back at the floor to make sure all the
come has been washed away before he turns off the water.
He nearly slips on the floor as he tries to grab his robe and step out of the
tub at the same time. But he manages to pull it on without dying, and after
tying it securely around his waist, opens the door. Norma is still standing
there, a plastic laundry basket hitched on her hip.
"What?" he asks. The hall smells like fabric softener.
She looks at him through narrowed eyes, and he knows she knows what he's been
doing in there. Of course she knows. "Save some hot water for the rest of us,"
she says, and then walks into her room.
With water still dripping from the ends of his hair, Norman curses under his
breath, and he hopes she hasn't heard.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
