Porn-Fed Steele Part 3/4
Date: Friday, February 16, 2001
Lauryn Poynor <>

Porn-Fed Steele

Part Three - Rated NC-17

By Lauryn Andrea Poynor and Anne "Andrea" Rose

Thanks go out to Linda Bonnell for beta reading and advice

All feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Permission to archive granted

Laura was warm, comfortable and extremely relaxed. After the ordeal of the last couple of days, being this content was positively idyllic. She and Remington quietly discussed the ironic twists and turns of the case in the cozy environs of his living room floor.

Laura hoped that talking over the case would help Remington process the loss of his friend Freddy, but after they had worked this through, that was all the business she wanted to discuss.

Earlier in the day, when she had indulged in the longest hot shower of her life, Laura's thoughts had turned to psychology class, of all things. The lecture on Abraham Maslow and the hierarchy of needs came flooding back to
her. Their lives had been stripped down to the essentials of food, clothing and shelter, and when those were at risk, Laura had lost it, almost unable to function.

Remington, on the other hand, had carefully, and protectively, guided Laura through places and circumstances that she hoped to never experience again, keeping them one step ahead, and most importantly, alive. More than once
he had stopped Laura from rash acts that would have made them the target.

Not for the first time, Laura gave thanks for that side of Remington's past that she was innately curious about, but preferred not to know the details of. She literally would not have survived without him.

However, as Laura thought back again on the ladder of needs, there was one physiological need that had not been satisfied, and she was determined that tonight she would change that.

"Ironic, isn't it?" Remington asked. He studied Laura's face intently as he spoke. "We spent the last two days with hardly a penny in our pocket, and all because of a ticket worthwell over a million dollars."

Laura looked off into nowhere. "It's amazing how little we can survive on if we really ha..." Laura froze. Something behind her that she could not see became a chilling reminder of the homeless shelter. "Is that your foot on my leg?" she asked cautiously.

Steele waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. "Hmmm-mmm."

Laura smiled, relieved that nothing with more than two legs was touching her. She slowly leaned in to kiss him.

Laura broke their kiss but stayed within millimeters of his lips."Actually, Mr. Steele, I'm not sure if it's JUST your foot."

Remington smiled. "Actually, Miss Holt, I also found a rather lovely coaster for my drink."

"Well, it's getting a little cold back there. Do you mind moving it?"

Remington set his tumbler on the floor beside her and placed his hand lightly on her behind. "Do you mind if I replace it?"

Laura laughed lightly. "Not at all." He kissed her again, this time using that hand to pull her possessively closer. He slid his left arm around her shoulder, gently pressing her to the floor with her head pillowed in the crook of his arm.

Laura melted into him, the achingly familiar longing building as it always did whenever he held her. The little demons of doubt began to creep out of their hiding places in her mind, but she quickly shut them away before they ruined the resolve she had built up for just this chance, just this moment.

Laura knew that if she tried to extract herself right now that Remington would assume that she was following her well-established pattern of going only so far, and then cutting him off and leaving. She had something that she needed to share with him, but it was in her purse, and if she was going to maintain her resolve she had to have it to make her point.

Laura broke away as gently as she could, and yet she could feel Remington's body slump in disappointment. She ran her hand through his hair and around his ear. "I'll be right back," she whispered.

"Really?" He looked her in the eye, checking for any possible miscue.

"Yes, really. I just want to get something out of my purse."

In tacit agreement Remington released his grip and Laura got to her feet. She crossed to the entry way and dug a cassette tape out of her purse. On her way back she noticed the phone on the table, and surreptitiously removed the handset from the cradle.

Laura paced a bit behind the couch, keeping the physical barrier between them while she prepared her little speech. Remington rolled onto his chest and rested his chin on his stacked fists, watching her.

"Last week when I had to drive out to Long Beach, I heard this song on the radio. I only half listened, since I was thinking about my meeting with the insurance adjuster, but on the way back they played it again, and I really heard the words then." She tapped the cassette repeatedly on her palm. "I know you're not much for popular music, but I bought the tape for you to hear."

"And this song, spoke to you, as it were?"

Laura nodded and put the tape in the stereo. She sat near him on the floor and leaned against the couch.

"Who's the singer?"

"It's a group called REO Speedwagon."

Remington's eyebrows jumped in question. "As in the large lorries?"

"I guess so."

The music started and Laura studied her hands.

I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever,
I said there is no reason for my fear,
Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction, you make everything so clear.

Remington stared at the carpet, absorbing the lyrics. Laura shifted uncomfortably as the music went on.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars forever.

As the song faded to its end, Laura jumped to her feet and stopped the tape. She stood there as the silence enveloped them, the only sound in the room the soft hiss of the gas logs in the fireplace. The overwhelming urge to make a run for it welled up inside, but Laura fought it down. She
didn't want adrenaline to drive her right now; she wanted some different hormones to take over at this point.

"Why don't you come sit down again, Laura?" She moved slowly around the couch. "Can I get you anything else?"

Laura didn't dare say the first thing that popped into her head, so she wordlessly joined him again on the floor.

Remington reached over for her hand. "I liked it, the song. A bit theatrical in its performance, perhaps." He ran his thumb over each of Laura's knuckles, studying her hand intently. "What is it that you can't fight any longer, Laura?"

"I'm sure you know."

"That may be, but perhaps I want to hear you say it." Laura hesitated. "I probably know full well what you're thinking, but I've misinterpreted your signals so many times that you're just going to have to line it out for me. I don't want there to be any doubt-. for me or for you."

Laura pulled her hand away, seemingly a defensive gesture, but actually more of a desire to concentrate on what she was saying without distraction. She took a deep breath.

"I'm sure you can understand when I tell you that these past couple of days have been some of the worst of my life."

"I had assumed that, yes."

"I don't think I've ever been so cold and miserable in my life."

"Welcome to my side of the street, Laura, or rather my former side of the street."

"I should have realized that when you moved us so confidently from one dump to the next that you were falling back on old knowledge."

"A short list of people and places from another lifetime, Laura."

"And without that I would have put myself on Candy's list of targets." A heavy silence fell. Laura reached over and took his hand again. "I'm fairly sure that I never said thank you, for saving my skin-again."

Remington placed her hand on his chest and covered it with his own. "Merely enlightened self-interest, Laura." He smiled.

"I just want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you did to keep our lives intact, until we were able to get them back. And you don't have to remind me that it's not the first time that you've done that. I owe you several times over."

"Oh, on the contrary, Laura, I owe you more times over for the day your grand charade rescued me from certain harm at the hands of two particular nasties, specifically Messrs. Kessler and Neff."

"Call it even?"

"For the moment, at least." He moved Laura's hand from his chest to his knee and held it in his. He cleared his throat conspicuously. "Now then, back to these Speedwagon chaps."

Laura fought down the adrenaline surge and reminded herself that she had started them down this path, and she had vowed she would not back down. She took a deep, slow breath. <Just say it, Laura. You know you want to, you've been wanting to for a long time. Go ahead, now, c'mon, don't be->

"I want you," she blurted out. "I want you so much I can't stand it anymore."

Steele stifled the urge to laugh at Laura's abruptness, knowing how much it had taken for her to admit what he had always hoped had been on her mind. Still, he couldn't help but smile. "There, that wasn't so difficult was it?"

"I'm serious!"

"I know you're serious." His expression softened. "I know you take us-.this-.very seriously."

Laura didn't answer, still recovering from the rush of finally unloading her mental burden.

"Believe me, Laura, I'm serious about wanting you, too. I've wanted you since our first magnum of champagne."

Laura had had enough talk. She didn't want to wait another minute to act on their mutual need. Her hormones were surging nicely. It was time to satisfy the one missing piece in their hierarchy of life's essentials.

She slid forward to place herself beside him, the sides of their thighs touching. She pulled him closer by his jacket lapel. Their lips met gently and tentatively at first, then with increasing assurance as the reality of their shared consent sank in.

Laura's right hand snaked up to his neck, holding his lips to hers as her left hand worked its way down his shirt buttons. Her hand skimmed up the smooth skin of his shoulder, meeting her right hand at the base of his
neck. Reluctantly she moved her lips away from his to plant feathery kisses along his jaw and temple.

Steele's head swam at the realization that Laura had finally come to terms with her desire. He congratulated himself for having the patience, however difficult it had been, to wait for Laura to wake up. In the darkest times, particularly after their return from Cannes, he brooded over how distant
they could become, especially when Laura put up walls as it suited her. Then he was positive he was only conning his own ego with reassurances that Laura would eventually turn that corner.

Now, when things had improved considerably, thanks to the unwitting assistance of George Edward Mulch, he could assure himself that whenever Laura decided she was ready, his patience would be amply rewarded. Already he was convinced.

Laura kept her hands behind his neck, as much to keep them from trembling as to force herself not to rip off his clothes and rush to conclusion. Her hormones wanted to race ahead, but her intellect wanted to savor every moment for this personal version of "Hot Hips Holly" that she anticipated.

Remington's hands moved to her waist where he slowly pulled out her shirt hem. Laura pressed his leg down to the carpet with her forearm. She came up on her knees and swung one leg over, maneuvering herself to sit on his thigh. She wedged her knee between his legs, gently pressing into his zipper.

Steele groaned audibly as Laura maddeningly aggravated the growing pressure in his groin. He worked his way swiftly through her shirt buttons, wanting desperately to just rip the bugger off of her, and every other bit of clothing that stood in his path. But if four years of patience had yielded
these rewards, he thought, he could muster up just a bit more in anticipation of even greater returns.

Laura pulled his shirttails out and moved her hands gently over his chest. She pushed her hands down the arms of his sleeves, the shirt and jacket sliding in a heap on the floor.

Laura ran her hands up his back, staring with undisguised delight at his chest. Although she had seen him without his shirt before, revealing it in this fashion felt like some sort of erotic treasure hunt. And she was just getting started.

Now Laura allowed her mind to recall the movie theater and all of the things she didn't do there, as much as she wanted to. All of the touches and caresses that she had so desperately needed to give and receive returned in an overwhelming flood of desire. Now there would be no need to hold anything back.

Remington spread his hands around Laura's ribs, running his fingertips over the slight ridges. His thumbs ran under the elastic of her bra, working their way around her back to the clasp. Take care of it now, mate, he thought, before it gets impossible to reach.

His hands moved to Laura's shoulders, and with two quick pulls on one of her sleeves and then the other his view of her was unencumbered, his imagination fulfilled. No amount of celluloid or silicone could compete with this moment, when he could touch and see the woman who had been the focus of his fantasies for so long.

Laura watched his face in the firelight, enjoying the half-closed eyes and lust-filled smile she saw. She straightened up, bringing herself even closer.

Remington wrapped his arms around her, his tongue tracing a line along the underside of one breast and then the other, carefully avoiding her erect nipples that begged for his attention. His hands moved to her buttocks, squeezing firm handfuls as he laid kisses up one side of her torso and down
the other.

Her fingers wrapped in his hair, Laura's anticipation grew as his hands and tongue fulfilled every fantasy she had imagined. As her mind replayed the scenes of Venus and Maximus giving it their all, she recalled their glib
exchange about men and their dimensions. How tempted she had been to find out how Mr. Steele compared that night, but even an empty theater was too public a place for Laura to try anything like that, no matter how aroused she was. Besides, she reminded herself, how could any man on the screen, no matter how much pistol he packed, compare with having this very real, very desirable man right in front of her?

As Remington worked his tantalizing magic on her breasts Laura decided to continue her treasure hunt. She gently removed his hands from her rear and pushed him toward the carpet. Steele propped himself up on his elbows, watching her, studying her, taking in everything and comparing it with what had been filed away in his mind all this time. Reality was definitely out-doing every imagined feature.

Still straddling his thigh, Laura went to work on his belt and zipper. Obligingly Steele lifted his hips and Laura slowly freed him from his trousers and boxers. She held herself back from touching him, literally keeping her hands behind her back as she studied him and made a new mental
imprint, erasing her various images accumulated over the years and replacing them with a permanent one. She could resist for only a moment, though, and quickly involved all of her senses in her exploration.

She gently wrapped her hands around him, and Remington's head fell back in ecstasy. Tentatively at first, then with more confidence, she ran her tongue over the places her hands did not cover and he writhed beneath her.

Remington could not process all of the stimuli that were assaulting his libido. With the limited mental capacity that he had he told himself to breathe. He had frozen in anticipation of yet another fantasy being wonderfully replaced with reality, and again his expectations were
exceeded. To have Laura half-naked in front of him, stroking and fondling him into this erotically altered state, was almost more than he could stand.

Half-naked. Although his thought processes were on the most primitive level now, the blood supply to his brain was not yet so seriously depleted that he did not realize that there was still some work to be done. Namely, Laura's pants. Although he dreaded the idea of interrupting what Laura was
doing, he forced himself to sit up and lifted her head away.

Hooking his finger in her waistband, he pulled her to him again, this time reveling in the sensations of his chest against hers. His hands groped for her button and zipper, and within seconds her pants and underwear were being pushed off. Laura stood for a moment to help him finish.

He looked up at her, completely nude, backlit by the fireplace. As his body threatened to lose control, his remaining synapse told him to swallow. He did, hard.

Kneeling, he took Laura's hand and guided her down to the floor in the same position he had been in moments before. Laura tried to relax, but every nerve ending in her body tingled with anticipation. She took a deep breath and her senses filled with the potent mixture of their arousal.

Positioning himself between her knees, Remington bent over and kissed her deeply. Before she was ready to let go of that sweet caress, his lips had traveled down her body, lingering in select spots that made Laura squirm beneath him. He sat back on his heels and gently lifted one of Laura's legs onto his shoulder, massaging her foot with his hand as he planted light kisses on her calf, behind her knee, and along her thigh. He let her leg slide to the floor and repeated with the other. This time Laura tried to maneuver her musky mound to his tongue, desperate to feel him touch the place where her arousal was now centered.

Remington put her leg down and pushed her knees up to her chest. He bent over her, ever so lightly touching his tongue to her mound. Laura's elbows gave out and she collapsed to the floor with the flood of sensation.

He flattened his tongue wide and pressed hard against her, traversing up and down, stopping to suck lightly at the top of each cycle. The decibel level of Laura's moans increased exponentially with each motion, her arousal spiraling upward, fast.

Laura's feet dropped to the floor and she pushed her hips forward, grabbing Remington by the head. His gentle sucking increased intensity, and when he slid two fingers inside her Laura went over the edge.

She moaned and bucked beneath him, pounding the floor with a fist. He held her down, pushing her beyond every limit. Finally she started to return to reality, but before she could fully recover he slowly entered her, trying to control his overwhelming need. Laura was very wet, but very tight, and against the combination of her grip and his lust he could not hold out much longer.

He folded her legs, placing her knees on her chest. He bent over her, cradling her buttocks in his hands and trying his utmost to control the urge.

Laura opened her eyes and saw his face tense with concentration. She needed him closer, even closer than he was now. She grabbed his wrists and pulled him on top of her, extending her legs around him.

He claimed another searing kiss as his weight pressed her down. Perhaps Maximus could go on like this for hours, he thought, but Maximus had never had Laura in his arms, and that man was a professional. There was nothing professional about Remington's feelings for Laura. She was the woman he'd
been waiting for, and now that the waiting was over he simply couldn't hold back any longer.

He could not stop himself from moving in and out, his face buried in her neck. Intellect no longer existed as his brain operated on its most primitive level. Laura clenched with each movement, pulling him closer to orgasmic oblivion.

Finally Laura gasped for air beneath him. Not knowing whether it was sexual or suffocation, Remington shoved himself up on his elbows so that his weight did not bear down on her, and checked to make sure she was breathing comfortably. Laura took his face in her hands and looked into his eyes.

Transfixed by the transparency of Laura's desire for him, Remington went over the top. He tried to hold her gaze until his body exploded into hers, his face contorted by dizzying heights he had never known existed until now.

Gloriously spent, he rested his damp forehead on Laura's chest, her heart pounding against it. Laura ran her hands up his back and through his hair.
After several minutes of recovery, he raised his head and smiled at her. Tenderly he smoothed back damp strands of hair.

"Don't ever fight that feeling, Laura."

"I won't. I can't."
End Part 3
To Part 4