Again, no infringement is intended by this faux-DVD-commentary. “The West Wing” belongs to NBC, Aaron Sorkin et al. No offence is intended by the comments herein, though considering this chapter is “mature”, they will no doubt be of a racy nature. The Statler-Waldorf Muppet-like wit will also continue. You have been warned.
****
Hi! This is Vicky again, back with part two of ‘The Burgundy Dress’ DVD commentary.
Word up, doggs!
That would be Cathy saying hello, too. So this picks up immediately after the end of “The Burgundy Dress”. I should also add that this part was posted to the JDFF NC-17 list as opposed to the tamer JDFF, for reasons that should become abundantly clear! Yee-haw! ::smirk::
This is by far my favourite half. I think why will become apparent fairly early on.
Looking back, she was amazed that they even made it to his room. Once the elevator doors closed, Josh was all over her—and, to be fair, she was giving him a run for his money too.
He was insatiably ravenous as his mouth traced the long column of her throat; one of his hands held her leg up about his hip as he ground his rigid erection against her lower stomach. The only sound filling the elevator was their shared symphony of groans and low, hungry moans. Donna was of half a mind just to hit the emergency stop button with her stiletto heel and have her way with him here on the marble tiles—but a bed would probably be slightly more comfortable.
That’s our Donna – always thinking of the kinky possibilities, but opting for a good mattress in the end.
Very sensible.
When the elevator doors opened they scrambled out into the hallway, laughing even as they fumbled with each others’ clothes.
“Do you have a key?” she panted, licking his earlobe.
A low growl emanated from the back of his throat as he pinned her against the door while also searching his pants pockets for the annoying plastic key card.
“Here,” Donna suggested in her most sultry voice. “Let me.”
Can’t you just imagine if the key-card scenario in “King Corn” had played out this way?
A slim alabaster hand slipped between their bodies and began a thorough search of Josh’s pants. When she made a small detour to cup his heavy sac
Hah!
he almost yelped, which would have been most uncool for a guy who was, supposedly, the third most powerful man in the country. Her long, tapering fingers traced the outline of his shaft through the material of his trousers until he thought he might go mad if he didn’t thrust inside her soon.
“Ah!” she cried triumphantly. “There it is!”
You can say that again!
Those alabaster skinned girls know how to get the job done.
Damn straight. I love my Irish porcelain complexion!
Suddenly her hands were gone and he saw a quick flash of white plastic before his eyes. Then the door was open and he was leading her inside the dark confines of his hotel room.
The door closed and his hands slipped down to grab her ass. “I just love you in that dress,” he whispered against her neck. “That colour is just…yeah.”
But will you love me in dickies and a tie?
“Josh?”
“Mmm-hmm?”
“Take it off.”
His smile flashed in the darkness. “Fantastic.”
Outstanding!!
She turned around, presenting him with her back. “See that zipper there in the back? I’ve been having problems with it.”
Again with the zipper thing. I have a black cocktail dress where the zipper on the side just drives me nuts. It always sticks for absolutely no reason. So I’m taking some real life experience and putting it in the fic. What’s that the experts say? Write about what you know? For sure.
It took a few seconds for Josh to realise that his hands needed to drift northwards—he couldn’t stop from fondling the soft curves of Donna’s velvet-encased bottom until she wiggled out of his reach.
“Josh! A little help here?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’m all over it.”
Donna giggled. “I already knew that.” She could feel his fingers at the nape of her neck, but she didn’t hear the mute whisper of an unzipped zipper. “Well?”
He sighed. She knew if she looked around, his tongue would be in the corner of his mouth as he tried to get it unstuck. That was the thing with zippers—it was always about holding your mouth right.
That’s the mantra my mother would always say when dressing me in my snowsuit when I was small. “Vicky, are you holding your mouth right?” “Yesss, Mum.” “No, you’re not, because it’s not working.” She warped me and I’ll still occasionally hold my mouth in odd positions while doing up my jacket just to make sure the zipper doesn’t stick.
Whatever works. My mother is known for her “killer zips”, in which she would zip me up and inevitably catch my chin at the top. Hurt like hell, but I love her anyways.
“It’s a tricky little sucker, isn’t it?” he muttered. Finally there was a definite tug on her back and she heard the sound of zipper freedom. “There we go!”
Turning, the shoulder straps slid down her arms and then she let the entire dress fall to the floor.
“Oh. My. God.”
That’s a good oh my god, I hope.
Yes.
He blinked, unable to see. He felt thirsty, but there was only one thing he wanted to taste. For several moments he just stood there, an arm’s length away from Donna, letting his mouth gape open like a landed fish. He had been absolutely pulverised.
Poor boy really needs a breather from all this punishment.
You love the punishment. I know what kind of fanfic you read online!!! You’re going to beat the shit out of me for that, aren’t you?
Once the dress was on the floor, he didn’t care anymore about making it to the bed. He just had to be inside of her—now. But he also wanted to sit back and worship her. He felt torn between the need to bury himself between her thighs as deeply as possible, and the desire to fall down on his knees and thank God that the scales had finally fallen away from his eyes.
Choices choices.
It was like some small part of each of them had known that they were crazy about each other deep down in their reptilian brain stems, but for a variety of reasons they hadn’t been able to get it right before now.
And there it is – the one line that BW gives in nearly *all* of the interviews I’ve ever read or seen about Josh and Donna. It drives me nuts. Seriously, I’ll growl at the TV or magazine. The first time I read/heard it, I thought it was an okay phrase, but rather lame. The next dozen or so times it nearly drove me round the bend. “Reptilian brain stems”??? Thanks for taking all the passion and romance out of that relationship, there, Bradley. And good to know that a guy who, I believe, went to a decent university can’t come up with some different metaphors from time to time. Okay, my rant is done.
Reptiles can be very sensual! Did you know there are snakes with two-pronged penises? Is that sexy, or just plain scary?
Definitely the snail is the most sensual animal in the garden, though.
Correction: he hadn’t let them get it right before now.
There had been that time, aeons ago, when Joey Lucas had said things about Donna and misdirection and he had brushed it all aside. Joey’s claim had been ridiculous—misdirection wasn’t Donna’s game, it was his. There had been comments about gomers and stag nights with strippers and snarking her every April and…and Amy.
Please don’t bring up the Evil One more than necessary, Josh.
That bitch-ho.
Oh yeah, he certainly had done his fair share to delay this night from ever happening.
Anytime she had gotten too close, he hadn’t just backed off, he had fled.
Then there was just the other day. He had asked CJ to the wedding knowing full well that when Donna found out she’d have some kind of jealous reaction—hopefully. He had waltzed into that dress shop on Fifth Avenue wearing his ultra-cool sunglasses that screamed he was so ‘da man’; then he had seen her in that burgundy dress that was beyond words. It now lay in a puddle at his feet—and he was a puddle before hers.
He was one lucky son of a bitch, all things considered.
Then again, he thought, Donna was about to get the loving of her life. That should more than make up for all the other stuff he had done since—well, since he had hired her. Right? Because, really, who was kidding who here?
Sorry, I had to throw it back in here. I was on a roll.
“You’re pretty amazing,” he whispered, the dimples out in full force. “You know that, right?”
Are we all done with the inner dialogue now, Josh? You know, while we’re young?
Without saying a word, she did a slow pirouette in front of him. “Is that all you have to say?”
His jaw fell open as his eyes devoured her black strapless bra with matching thong, garters and thigh-high stockings.
“That’s better,” she purred.
Okay, so I was listening to a pretty interesting soundtrack while writing the smut in this fic. If I remember correctly, it included the following: Bette Midler – Do You Wanna Dance; Dave Matthews Band – Two Step; The Tragically Hip – Long Time Running; Janis Joplin – Summertime; Jefferson Airplane – Today; Bette Midler – Stay With Me Baby; Guns ‘N Roses – Patience; Berlin – Take My Breath Away; Jeff Buckley – Last Goodbye; and U2’s With or Without You and All I Want Is You.
Cathy, do you have any favourite make-out songs???
Actually, Do You Wanna Dance by Bette Midler was one of my favourites. I also like TLC’s This is how it works, and that one from Dirty Dancing “Don’t you feel like cryin’”, aaaaand anything by Toni Braxton, really. You know, for the oodles and oodles of makin’ out I do.
Hussy. And I totally agree on the Dirty Dancing song. I used to own it, before my hard drive crashed and wiped out all of my music. ::sad sigh::
He backed up into the far corner of the room near the large picture window that looked out over the New York skyline.
Like a scared little rabbit.
Once in the shadows, he held out his hands, beckoning her to follow. Before joining him, she reached behind her back with one hand and unsnapped her bra. It joined the dress on the floor.
The pale light from outside spilled over her mostly-bare body, highlighting the delicate swell of her breasts and the flat planes of her stomach and torso. It was almost comical the way that Josh’s legs buckled as she advanced toward him, still wearing her high heels; almost comical, because they both were far too hot for each other for it to be funny anymore.
This could only end one way, with one sweaty, satisfying, sexually gratifying conclusion, and they both knew it.
And we’ll never ever get to see it on TV. That is, if it ever happens. From what I’ve heard about Season Six, I’m not holding my breath for shipperdom resolution anytime soon.
The backs of his legs hit the plush armchair in the corner and he fell into it. Donna didn’t stop moving until she had joined him there. She straddled his lap with her hands braced on either side of his head.
“Do you want me, Josh?” she whispered.
“God, yes.”
“Then touch me.”
His eyes grew wide as he thought about all the things he could do. He ran his hands up along her waist as she yanked open his shirt front. A moan escaped his lips as she bent to plant wet open-mouthed kisses all over his chest. The movement made her sex dance lightly above his rock-hard erection; he indulged himself for a moment by pressing down on her hips and letting her briefly settle on top of him.
Then she was gone. His eyes followed to where she stood before him, busy in the act of peeling off her underwear. “Leave the rest on,” he growled.
She came to him again, this time only wearing only garters, stockings and shoes, like something out of his greatest fantasy. This time when she climbed onto the chair, her legs were on the armrests. Knowing instinctively what she wanted, he slid down in the chair so that her moist core was only inches away from his upturned face.
If anyone is reading this and wondering about the comfort level for Josh in this position, all I can say is, you’re obviously focusing on the wrong things!
Seems to me that Josh and “comfort” are mutually exclusive.
He pulled her down to meet his questing lips, tracing the velvety petals of her sex with a nimble tongue before losing himself completely in her taste and scent.
Donna gripped the back of the chair with her fingers, not quite believing what was happening. Then Josh found her clit with his teeth and she lost track of everything except the exquisite pleasure he was giving her with his mouth. She cried out loudly as her good orgasm ripped through her;
(as opposed to all the shitty ones she’d been having…lol)
her legs began to shake with the effort of not collapsing onto his face beneath her. Yeah…that’s the last thing he needs, he’s been beaten up enough.
He slid down the rest of the way to the floor and then sprung to his feet. His clothes were gone in an instant so that when Donna turned around, all she saw was Josh. Smiling the smile of a well-loved woman, she sidled up to him and looked deeply into his brown eyes while one hand lightly played with the tip of his shaft. It bucked into her hand as she spoke.
“Do you wanna dance, Joshua?”
Yeah, I was totally listening to the Bette Midler stuff while writing this section. I don’t really understand why, since I’m not a big Bette Midler fan. Jeff Buckley or Guns ‘n Roses or The Hip would have been closer to my own personal taste…
Or “Misguided Angel” by The Cowboy Junkies, which is my favourite song of all time.
One of my favourite songs, if not THE favourite, is “Life is a Highway” by Tom Cochrane. I would call that my theme song, actually. But it would be hard to make out to. Weird rhythm.
There was something about the way that she said his name that made him a wild man. Picking her up in his arms, he strode over the bed and gently tossed her against the pillows. Starting with her feet, he kissed his way up her legs, removing her shoes and stockings as he went. The last piece of clothing to be thrown to the floor was her garter belt, which he took his sweet time in unsnapping.
“I love that you wear that,” he confessed.
“It makes me feel sexy.”
“You ARE sexy. If you never trust me about anything else, believe that.”
She laughed in the darkness, and suddenly he felt an undying need to possess all of her. His lips closed over hers, slanting so that when their tongues touched, he had amazing access to all the secrets of her mouth.
They both knew at the same moment when they had had enough foreplay. Just before he lost himself inside of her, he remembered something.
Why do I feel like an after-school special at this point? “Remember, kids, safe sex is good sex! The More You Know…”
“Shit!” he cursed savagely.
“What is it?”
“Hold on.” He climbed off of her silken nakedness and began to hop about the room, trying to find his wallet.
“Josh?”
“Aha! Found it!” Brandishing the discovered condom like it was an Emmy award, he ran back to the bed and began to rip at the square foil with his teeth.
So there’s my tribute to BW winning his Emmy in 2001. It was a happy moment, and then I go and start putting condoms into the mix! God, I’m so predictable! ;)
Donna propped herself up on her elbows, her breasts pointing at the ceiling (well!)
and looked down the length of her body to where he stood. “How many of those do you have?”
The triumphant look on his face fell. “Only one. Do you—”
“Nope. I don’t have any with me. I didn’t really think this would…you know.”
“Yeah, neither did I.”
What a pair of worry-warts!
Not sure if that’s a shout-out for always being prepared or, on the flip side, how being overly-prepared could ensure that you never get what you want. Make of it what you will.
A determined look came into her eyes. “We’ll just have to make this time absolutely amazing.”
“Damn straight.”
Pressure’s on, Josh. No pre-eruptions this time, buddy.
Once he had the condom on, he crawled towards her. Just when she thought he was settled between her thighs, he grabbed one of her legs and bent it up towards her shoulder, opening her passage to his blunt invasion.
Josh gets automatic points for sexual creativity at the beginning of the relationship.
Biting her lips, she willed herself to relax and not tense up. When she looked at him—proud, aroused and undeniably male—a stream of fire shot through her, filling her with the most primal of urges to satisfy her mate.
He drove himself home, filling her to the hilt in one all-consuming thrust. Her head rolled back in the pillows and she inhaled sharply. One word alone filled her thoughts: “More.”
Then began the timeless dance that they both knew so well, but had never done with each other apart from in their dreams and most forbidden thoughts. His strokes within her were slow, rubbing against every inch of her tight passage. There were times when he thought it might kill him not to move faster, but he wanted this to last for as long as he had the strength to continue on.
At some point he lifted her above him, so that she could weave a spell of her own making. Tremors filled her body, making her afraid to move in case the world would come crashing down faster than she could follow. Then she felt his hands on her hips, guiding both of them towards the ultimate goal. His thumb raked her clit, already swollen and tingling, pushing her over the edge; she screamed as she came and then he had flipped them over again and was driving into her like a man possessed.
She tried to keep her eyes open, but once he reached above her to grab onto the headboard, she let her lids close and reacted on pure sensation.
Was it too much to bring in the headboard? I hummed and hawed over that one for a long time while writing it. I thought it was a really hot thing to do, but is something Josh would do? In the end, as you can see, I went with the hotness factor instead of possibly being true to character.
I always think grabbing the headboard is a nice touch. Shows they’re into it (duh) AND it also allows the reader to position them on the bed! Very practical.
Her hips rose to meet every thrust and her arms clung to his back, sliding slightly in their grip because of the sweaty sheen covering both of them. One of his hands came back to her, securing her leg high around his waist so that she could feel the power they created with each other.
Then, unexpectedly, her body began to rise again and she threw her head back as her third climax of the night flooded her senses. Somewhere in the distance she heard a shout and then he too, joined her in oblivion. The headboard shuddered with the force of his final thrusts as he emptied himself inside of her.
And now we all break for a cigarette!
Smoking is bad but I’ll make an exception.
After they had both come back into their bodies, he left her briefly to take care of the condom, and then rejoined her beneath the covers of his bed. He held her from behind, spooning against her, as she tried to understand the magnitude of her dreams coming true.
“Josh?”
“Yes?”
“Just tell me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“It—it wasn’t just the dress, was it?”
I had to bring back Insecure!Donna. I really don’t think that Donna would immediately be comfortable with having Josh in bed with her. She’d love it, but she’d freak. So this is her slightly freaking.
There was a pause; when she looked over her shoulder, his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Well, it sure helped!”
She swatted at him. “Josh!”
Gathering her into his arms he quickly began to whisper the truth in her ear. “It was always you, Donna. I never let it happen before, but today—tonight—” He broke off. “I can’t fight you forever,” he confessed.
“You never needed to.”
“Oh yes, I did,” he smiled. “But I’m so glad that I lost.”
I’m fairly certain I was inspired by “The Thorn Birds” for that line. Something in both the book and the TV miniseries about Father Ralph having fought a terrible battle against Meggie and then losing it, but the loss was what made him realise that he was a man. Or something like that.
“Me too.”
They fell asleep holding each other, while the burgundy dress shimmered in a pool of moonlight.
“No no, no need to thank me! I am just a widdle dress that likes to help dreams come true…”
So there’s my take on a West Wing Cinderella-esque situation. Up until the point when I first posted this (Summer 2004), I think the only thing longer than The Burgundy Dress that I had written was Cheesy Love Songs, but I hope that people enjoyed the effort that went into this one.
Thanks a lot to everyone who ever wrote lovely feedback about this or any of my stories. Feedback is a fantastic thing for a writer to receive. And a BIG THANK YOU to Cathy for being her usual fabulous self.
Hey no problem dude! The romance was awesome, and the dress descriptions were educational! Something for everybody, eh? Hope ya’ll enjoyed it. “Wang”. Hee hee!
Bye!
FIN