Table Purple Elbow (drabble)
[ viggo/liv . this belongs to Mcee ] PG-13
It's Sunday night and the wine is gone, and Viggo discovers that Liv's elbows make the most fascinating noise on the dining room table when they fuck. It's a round, hollow sound - rhythmic and dark as cherrywood varnish, and in time with each heavyhard thrust of Viggo's hips into the pinksweet space between Liv's thighs. Her hair radiates on the ashblonde wood, wild and greenblack like seaweed ripped upon the tide. For a moment, Viggo imagines her as Ophelia - mermaid-like in some fit of miscalculated ecstasy, with bluepale skin and purpleglossed lips - all the while chanting "I'm dying, I'm dying".
