NOTE: Ok, finally got fed up enough of having read all the Ryan/Gloria fic I can find. Hoping this will stir some interest in other R/G fans who'se muse is lying dormant. Hope you like it, criticism, comments, appreciation welcome, please be gentle with the criticism. Also, there is a somewhat racist viewpoint taken in this fic, and I call Ryan white trash and stuff, and it's clear that it's not just a random saying. I did this out of frustration at non-white women being constantly portrayed in an oversexual manner. This is done on the one hand, and white men think they're very liberal by being 'willing' to sleep with non-white women. Which, yeah, maybe, if your forefathers weren't a lot of freaky rapists. Maybe. I suppose Ryan doesn't really count since he's Irish and his family may not have been involved in the slave trade or land pillaging or other not-so-fun stuff. But that's the way I wrote it. I'm opinionated and somewhat exclusionary when I feel like it. Deal.
So a year and a half later, I went to cellblock five and found my little porny fic... I've edited it slightly, and the only thing I was unsure about was the racially loaded descriptions I gave to Ryan and Gloria. I have decided to leave them in anyway. As well, I recently joined a yahoo group for RyGlo Shippers that is absolutely awesome! You'd think that them being the only heterosexual couple featuring an Oz inmate would generate more fanfic, but it doesn't! I guess the thrall of Beecher and Keller's web of deathly passion sucks everyone in! This place was hard to find, so you I'm mentioning the group here in case fellow Ryan/Gloria shippers wish to join it!
Ryan- what the fuck am I doing here? silence.
Ryan-Hello? What the fuck am I doing here? If you don't let me back to my fucking pod, those Aryan fucks are gonna eat Cyril! I didn't do anything wrong!
Shhhh...whispers a breathy voice, blowing against Ryan O'reilly like a gust of wind.
It speaks: You're going to get a half hour alone with your angel. And even though you're a white trash scumbag who'd kill some of his own family members for a cigarette or maim them for a fifteen minute romp with a hot chick and a quicky orgasm, you are going to have a half hour alone with the beautiful Peurto Rican doctor. Now shut up until she comes.
Ryan starts cursing incorrigibly as he often does.
In a separate enclave:
Gloria - Who's there? ....I'm probably...am I dreaming?
The writeur blows a gust of wind Gloria's way as words are spoken: You want him.
Gloria - Ok, want who?
You want him. You have wanted him for a long time. It's not right but, as Whitney says, it's okay. He'll be with you shortly.
Ryan - You cocksucker bitch, if you're gonna come at me, Howell, move it, you dyke!
Hard hits up against a soft body.
Ryan turned around. A slow smile spread over his face, a cat that ate the canary smile. So she had done this. Not sure how she had done this, or how to start, a hard on beginning and making itself slightly prominent under his jeans' fly. His hand reached out to touch her arm.
Gloria - I don't know where we are, but the guards will be here soon. They know I'm missing....
She is afraid. She's so intrigued by him, to say the least; but she doesn't think he's quite sane. His obsessive patterns have told her that much.
A voice speaks again: Shhh...the breath of the writer flowing through the grey, oddly fogged room : You will do as I say you will. You have always had this inside of you, so I've created a place where you can be free. I will allow you to be free for one half hour. Now.
A panicked look came over the sweet goddess Gloria's face, as demons and monsters she'd tried to keep hidden surfaced, choking her, and leaving her alive, only to be at their beck and call.
Ryan's face was a plain mask. He was trying to fight it, this masculine instinct that made some men beat and hurt women like his dad had; this was dangerous and possessive and soulfully sexual and, above all, a masculine sensuality. He touched her arm.
Gloria - Do you at least fucking regret it?
Ryan - I regret so much. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. When I saw the look in your eyes when you came and told me. And when you looked at me. And I am sorry.
Gloria wanted to ask him more, knowing she might never get an answer. She wanted to ask him WHY he was sorry. If he had any remorse about the life he'd taken. But his hands had found a way under her shirt and were his name over and again. Until she came so hard that she cried and fainted from pleasure. Until she understood she was his.
Gloria - you're beautiful when you're horny
He touched her stomach gently. His. He wouldn't let her go away. He loved her and he wanted to fuck her. He loved so much about her, her mind, her body, her voice, the way she said "FUCK" and managed to swear it out in a sexy and beautiful way even if she was angry or hurting. He wondered if she felt the same way about him. He knew when they had spoken that day in the infirmary, that she loved him.
But did she find him sexy, he wondered. He would make her. He would make her find him sexy. And he would fuck her until she said his name in pleasure.
Ryan - you're always fucking beautiful.
Gloria - Are you sorry.
Ryan - Yes.
Gloria - How sorry? What are you sorry about?
Ryan kissed her then, to take her breath away and end her questions. His hands caressed her stomach, her back, the fullness of her plump breasts, anything he could while still holding her close to him.
His Gloria felt shocks of pleasure from his hands touching her, and when he pressed their still clothed bodies together, she felt his rampant erection pressing into her belly. He was making her too horny. But she wasn't in control anymore. Even Gloria Nathan, who, in her heart, loved Ryan, would not have done this. She gasped as his mouth left hers to suck and nibble on her neck , pleasuring her more.
She answered him with her own desire, licking his neck once before fastening her luscious mouth to his his skin, mimicking his motions. Gloria kissed a path to the convict's collarbone. Her hands travelled to Ryan's hips, groping him with fervent abandon, touching the sensitive skin where his stomach almost met his back, before she suddenly broke away from him and forcefully turned him around so she could explore his back, feeling the strenghth hidden beneath his silken skin and lean appearance of frame.
Ryan shivered at his angel's wanton desire of him. No fights between them now in this room. Although, he was prepared to fight for her.
The writer makes a bed.
Ryan took Gloria to it, and laid her on it quickly. This was not Gloria, this was not even fully Ryan. It was truth.
He struggled with her clothes and had them off in moments, ripping her wonderbra and running her tights as he pulled them off too roughly. His own clothes were off in a moment. Gloria had removed his green wifebeater, peeling it from his sweat drenched body as he removed his pants and plain white boxer shorts.
They lay there together for what seemed like eternity, holding and caressing one another's bodies. Ryan sucked one of her plump tits into his mouth, where he eagerly swirled his tongue around it's succulent cherry. He savoured the taste, eyes closed, feeling the skin on her arm which he held possessively prickle in response to him.
After a few all to brief moments, he slowly withdrew his attention from her nipple and licked the valley in between her breasts quickly before sliding his soaked body over her fully. His mouth travelled the lengh of her stomach, stopping to taste her side where the skin met her back, repaying and doubling the pleasure she'd given him earlier.
When he got to her thighs, he slowed with great difficulty, forcing himself to be leisurely about it. As Gloria moaned in ecstacy, Ryan traced a slow path up her inner thigh, forcing her to spread her legs even further on the bed. Then his tongue swirled lazily around Gloria's upper thigh, moving closer to her pussy until he was touching the soft, tender flesh between her thigh and her sex. He looked up at her, and saw her smoky eyes silently begging him.
Gloria - Please. Ryan.
Ryan smiled, his beautiful green eyes mischievously playing with her. Gloria's hips rocked, almost involuntarily, against him, the soft hair teasing his chin and her smell intoxicating him.
Gloria - Ryan. Please.
Ryan obliged her then. He went slowly, sucking and licking her sex. All his.
He drove her to the edge of madness, finding the entrance to her womb and entering her there, before sliding his tongue through the inner labia of her throbbing pussy and focusing his attention on her clit. He knew she loved him. Now he would make her need him.
As she came in a series of powerful orgasms, Gloria felt her vision dim slightly; Ryan knew he was close to cumming on site. He moved to cover her quickly. As she tried to slip out of her haze, Gloria moved and touched him, admiring his body and feeling slightly daunted by the size of his erect penis. Fuck, those things could change alot, she thought to herself.
She rolled them both until she was ontop of him, and tried to get a taste of his cock before he pulled himself fast on top of her and, holding her, sank his dick into her sweet, tight cunt. He managed to get the head of his shaft in before he heard her gasp. He moved slowly, entering her in an eternal, hushed moment. Once inside her sweet wetness, he moved with a refined carefulness, and Gloria rocked her hips in time with his rhythm.
Gloria had never felt so full. She would never admit it, not to herself, but the men she had slept with and dated had been fairly small, average being the largest. She had believed she'd preferred it that way. But his rather immodest shaft was giving her something no other man ever had, and it was part and parcel of the man giving her what she knew no other man ever could. As Gloria's orgasm came toward her she found it too long a wait, and tried desperately to quicken the rhythm.
Ryan was determined not to cum first; he was rewarded for his self control. He felt the orgasm begin inside of her and course through her, her cunt spasming around him. Gloria stared up at him and whispered "fu..." as her breath trailed off, and that was all he needed then. His self control began to splinter around him as Gloria continued on her peak, and he raced to join her, driving himself againt and again into her velvet heat.
Ryan exploded inside his angel, his sperm driving with determination into her womb. They reached the pinnacle together, their souls spreading into a dance bronzed and etched into time, extended and holding tight to each other. Their eyes locked.
Ryan and Gloria - I love you.
Too soon, the writeur dragged them from their place of love and sent them, cleaned of sex by the lingering fog and clothed, to the door of the writer's world.
Speaks the writeur: You were good. Yes, I toyed with your emotions and made you do things you wouldn't do. But it was you all along. All I did was have fun with you. And your love pleased me. You were good. Now get gone.
Ryan O'reilly found his lean, lanky sexy skankish ass in the gymnasium, coaching Cyril alone.
Cyril - Ryan, you went away for a long time. I don't like it when you do that.
Ryan stared around him in a dazed shock.
Gloria, similarly, found herself in her office.
It wasn't until Gloria was home from work and undressing for her shower that she noticed she was wearing a torn bra, and that, when she stepped out of her underwear, they carried the sticky remnants of love with...
Ryan stared at the ceiling of his pod. He knew something almost wrong, something dangerous happened. He also knew that he'd gotten to make Gloria his. And he was sorry, he was sorry. He was so sorry for her loss, Gloria's pain, her suffering. Although, if he'd had it to do over, he would have hired a hit man. Because he actually wasn't sorry.