doesntsing | open post

As soon as Midge starts orgasming, Jaskier lets go as well, only thrusting a couple more times before staying deep inside her to fill her up as promised. It still blows his mind that he's allowed to do that at all and it makes the orgasm so much better. His hand digs into her skin as his body shakes in ecstasy, sliding on the wood of the organ for that final touch. His body bends forward as if curling around her, clinging to her as he moans right in her ear.

Getting to feel her body against his from head to toes just makes it extra special.

Jaskier collapses when he's done too, but he leaves his head on her shoulder for the obligatory cuddling. After a few seconds to recover his breath, he finally speaks.

"I hope Your Highness is satisfied."

Midge absolutely loves the sensation of him coming inside of her. Yennefer’s potion is a miracle drug. The only bad thing about this position is that Midge can’t watch him when he orgasms.

She leans her head against his as he comes down. “Very satisfied, my sweet bard.”

Jaskier chuckles and kisses her shoulder. He would like to lie down and turn their position to cuddle properly, but now that he's going through post-nut clarity, he's thinking about the poor piano. He'll have to find something clean the wood - but that's for when his legs function again.

"That holds a new meaning after this. How was that for seduction?" he replies with a wide grin on his face. "Should I keep calling you princess, then?"

Midge would also like to move to another location for a proper cuddle once the two of them are able to use their legs again.

She laughs softly. “I liked it. Sure, you can call me princess. Your princess.” Lacing their fingers together, Midge brings his hand to her lips.

There’s a moment of silence, then: “We’re actually lying on top of a piano right now.”

Jaskier doesn't know about his princess, even if it does make his heart feel all fuzzy, but he reminds himself that he isn't supposed to think tonight.

He laughs pretty hard while finally pulling out. "Yes, we are. I don't know about you, but I loved this part too."

After a kiss to her cheek, he gets off the piano and takes her hand to help her down too. He also picks up the robes and this time he puts the small one on her shoulders while he puts on the big one.

With an arm half way through a sleeve, he freezes. "...please tell me you know where the cleaning products are." He falls to his knees as he puts a hand on the piano. "I'm sorry, dear. Your sacrifice is appreciated. I promise I'll leave you sparkling again."

Midge has a way of reminding him about their non-relationship relationship, doesn’t she?

“It’s truly the most unique place I’ve ever had sex,” she replies, taking Jaskier’s hand as he helps her off the piano. She wraps Muriel’s robe around her, and snorts a laugh at Jaskier’s actions.

“Wow, you get me dirty all the time and I’ve never seen this level of concern for me,” Midge teases. “Unbelievable. Cleaning products are probably under the kitchen sink. I’ll go look.”

Mental note: look for more unique places to fuck her.

Jaskier laughs as he leans over her shoulder to kiss her cheek. "That's because you look sublime when you've been properly debauched."

He rushes ahead to the kitchen without waiting for her and gets another slice of pizza to munch on it while he searches for the cleaning products. The pizza is cold by now, but he doesn't care. It's still good.

As soon as he has the cleaning products, he rushes back to the studio to start cleaning the poor piano. He's very concentrated on the task, singing along while he works. He only pauses to curse when he notices a dirty spot that he didn't see before.

Once he's done, he steps back to admire his work. "I wish I had wood wax. But it still looks good, right?"

She smiles. It’s true.

While Jaskier cleans the piano, Midge cleans up the kitchen, washing and drying their dirty plates. She keeps the wine glasses out for now, in case they want to finish the bottle. Knowing Jaskier, he will. When she finishes tidying the kitchen, she joins him in the extra room.

His care for all things musical shows through with his attention to detail as he cleans the piano. Just like he’s always so gentle with his lute. It’s really quite sweet.

“Looks like it’s never even been fucked on,” Midge replies with a nod.

"A pity," he says with an exaggerated sigh. "We should be allowed to keep souvenirs of our fucking."

It's a joke, of course - even if he had his own piano, he would clean it after fucking on it. Which he would often. He picks up the cleaning products and takes them back to the kitchen before pouring more wine. Midge knows him well.

"Did you hear about that artist who covered himself and his wife in paint?" he asks while pulling at Midge's hand to sit her on his lap. He wants his cuddling! "They fucked on a big canvas and framed the result. The literal 'art of fucking'."

She’s fine with cuddling him here, but consider a place like the bed - vastly more comfortable. They can bring their wine if they want.

Midge curls up in his lap and has a sip of wine. “That’s what most modern art looks like,” she says. “Sounds messy, but fun. We could try that.

You’re musical though. You probably want to create a song using my moans or something.”

"I did notice that lots of the art here is blotches without meaning," he replies while wrinkling his nose. "But watching that one while knowing how it was made was definitely an interesting experience." He tilts his head, smirking. "I was sharing a story, I wasn't expecting you to like it. Count me in, though. It does sound fun."

He wraps an arm around her, keeping her close while he reaches for his own glass. However, he freezes to stare at her with clear surprise.

"I always think of your moans as the sweetest music. You would be ok with something like that?"

“Apparently they do have meaning,” Midge tells him. “Some of the blotches are better than others.”

She notices how still he gets, then raises an eyebrow at his response.

“Oh, you really want to do that? Wouldn’t the song be obscene?”

"Do they actually have meaning, or is the artist pretending they do?" He sounds very skeptical. Because he is.

He sips some wine while closely watching her reaction. Her question actually leaves him thinking for a moment.

"I suppose it'd depend on the type of song and how much moaning sounds I use. My first instinct is to say yes, it'd be very obscene, and that's the point. But it could also be a story about two people coming together, and the moans only fade away at the end as their bodies finally crash into passion."

“It could be a whole grand conspiracy between the artists and the museums and the art critics,” Midge says. “If our sex painting isn’t hailed as the next Picasso, we’ll know why.”

She shrugs. “Might be hard to get radio play with actual orgasm noises in the song unless they’re really well hidden.”

He laughs pretty hard at that. Gosh, she's always so funny. Luckily for her, he's heard of Picasso already, although he could've figured it out by context. "If our painting isn't a hit, it's obviously because everyone will be jealous of how amazing our sex is."

The radio, right. Jaskier adores the invention, he really does. He has it on at home whenever he isn't making music of his own - the fact that these recordings allow music to play everywhere all the time is amazing and he welcomes it. But wrapping his head around putting his music there is still something he needs to get used to. It's not bad, just... new.

"It wouldn't be a song from such a context, no. The raunchy ones never are. Do you think I sang my dirty ditties at court?" He shakes his head. "Those were for the tarverns, mayhaps a festival." A pause as he remembers something. "Now I think about it, there've been a few exceptions. I got away at court with some lyrics that hid the naughty bits with metaphors." He sips his wine. "Although you'd think those so-called smart lords would get the very obvious meaning behind To pull on my horn / As it rises in the morn." He sing-sangs that bit.

“Oh, people come up with all kinds of things to avoid the censors,” Midge says. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

She studies him for a moment, sipping her wine. “What if everyone knew it was me moaning in that song?” That’s kind of embarrassing. More than kind of. She thinks adding her orgasm noises to his music would require more of a commitment on his part.

"Speaking from experience?" he teases. He's heard her act, after all. Not to mention the place of their first meeting.

He stares back, trying to understand where that question is coming from. It bothers him that he can't tell.

"For the record, you brought up the radio. I just toyed with the idea of making the song - I am still shocked to hear you're considering it. I was expecting you to ask me to keep it private. Like the picture I sent you."

She is most certainly speaking from experience.

“Admittedly, I was joking, but you seemed very interested in the idea. I’m not sure how I feel about us recording our sex. Or rather, I’m not sure if I feel comfortable with it, even as a private thing between us.”

Private things have a way of getting out, it seems.

"I am very interested in the idea," he admits. "But if you're uncomfortable, then we shall drop the subject."

Jaskier cups her face, brushing his thumb on her cheek. "I want you to enjoy sex, to embrace it. Not to feel uncomfortable. Society already does enough shaming as it is."

Midge leans her head against his hand. “You make me feel very comfortable trying things with you, though that’s in the privacy of this apartment. I want to keep things between us for now.”

She presses a kiss to his wrist. “You’ve helped me to explore all kinds of things that I never thought I would. This is the most open that I’ve ever been.”

She wants to keep things between them, yet she also wants him to be her plus one and thinks her parents will tell something is going on. Jaskier wants to say you have a funny way of showing it, but remembers how she cried on the bed earlier and bites his lower lip just in time.

Can she really take this? Jaskier can hear Geralt telling him to end it before she gets hurt - hell, the rational part of him thinks the same. But Jaskier is more emotional than rational, so he melts under her kiss and his heart aches when he hears her say that this the most open that she's ever been. It only makes him want to give her more.

"I am really happy to hear that," he says after a long, awkward pause. "You honor me so. So never be afraid of saying no, even if we are in the middle of whatever idea we get in the future. Not everything will land, and I don't want you to have any regrets."

She means their sex, of course, not their friendship or relationship, however it’s being defined. The long pause makes her feel self-conscious. Did she say something stupid? Midge wraps the robe more tightly around herself.

She nods. “You’re always gentle with me, pushing me but not forcing me to do anything.”

"As it should be." He did many stupid things as a teenager, so he's proud to have learned from past experiences and provide safe options for her.

"Of course, if you want it just a little rougher, just let me know. We did have a good time when I fucked you hard on your knees last time." A grin. "And you seemed very interested in the idea of mounting you just a few moments ago."

A flush forms on her cheeks and neck. “It gave me a very vivid image,” she replies. “Ideas for another night. Right now, I want to cuddle with you in bed.”

It’s late and they’ve gone 3 rounds. She’s not ruling out a fourth, but she’s in the mood to wind down and have Jaskier hold her in the dark.

"You're so cute when you blush," he says before kissing her cheek. "As the princess commands."

Jaskier isn't a jock or anything like it - he isn't the kind of guy who is known for physical feats. But he's fit enough, he thinks, and Midge is on the smaller side, so it's easy for him to pick her up in his arms and take her to the bedroom.

He kisses her sweetly as he disrobes her, getting rid of his own robe too before joining her under the blankets. Nuzzling her hair, he wraps his arms around her, loving how perfectly she fits against him. "Better?"

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