Old account got ganked, reposting. Kink meme de-anon. Unimaginative title, but all my brain power went elsewhere with this one.

...

Shauntal's day had been a success. She had spent her whole day in the Pokemon Center by Victory Road observing the head nurse, as she had hit a bit of a snag in how exactly the stern, dutiful nurse would have responded to something. She had it now, as well as a greater understanding of the woman that had inspired a few scenes she hadn't even conceived of writing. Research days like that were always so fulfilling, and she was certain she would burn through several chapters by the night's end.

As she made her way up the spiral staircase, though, something was wrong. She could hear murmurs from the top, and her hands reached for Cofagrigus's Pokeball in the off-chance it was a break-in. It couldn't have been a challenger, as it was the weekend, and they had weekends off during the winter. Her breath quickened as she peeked over the top, and saw Grimsley sitting cross-legged in a chair, speaking lowly to himself as he held a packet of innumerable pieces of paper that had been bound into something resembling a book in the most rudimentary of fashions.

"What are you doing?" she sighed with simultaneous relief and frustration. Even if it was him and not a burglar after her valuable first editions, he had still broken into her room and gone through her stuff without permission. She even knew damn well what he was reading, but wanted to keep the subject away.

"Well," he said, his usually dry tone tinged with amusement, "I was looking for one of the pairs of socks I lent you, as I felt keeping one in case of emergency would come in handy. But then I found this manuscript on your desk, and it is much more fascinating than anything else I would have done today."

Shauntal growled as she rounded up the last few steps and stood in front of him, looking as imposing as possible. "Put it down."

He smirked, clearing his throat and drawing in a deep breath, letting his eyes scan the page. "Elesa had never really understood emotions like most people did, and usually it confused her when something began to encroach over her and make her feel. With the redheaded girl's hand in her tights and rubbing slow circles over her throbbing flower, though, something crept over her, and she was scarcely sure there was more to it than basic sensation. The way her eyes watched the open, cherry lips forms words made something inside the gym leader swell up. Without knowing what she was doing but for the first time in her life understanding the feelings that ran through her, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the curvy woman's, shutting her eyes tightly as finally she understood."

"This isn't funny," Shauntal said sternly, crossing her arms as Grimsley flipped about ten or so pages ahead.

"Had she been sure she hadn't a drop of alcohol? The way Fennel's head spun as the brothers' hands touched her in places that had ached for so long with neglect and need made her wonder. Whose hand belonged to whom, she had no idea, but the giddiness reaching from her head to her toes as three very pretty boys felt up and massaged her most intimate of places made it all irrelevant. When a hand grabbed her wrist and brought her open hand to something rigid and warm, she had no reservations. Her eyes opened, and even without her glasses she could see the mess of blue hair that sat atop the smiling face and knew she was slowly working Cress over. With all they were doing for her, there was no reason to be selfish, so she reached out for what she assumed to be Chili's, and looked up at Cilan with squinted eyes. 'I'm afraid I only have two hands, but perhaps I could please you some other way?'"

Shauntal's own eyes were shut tightly, and she scowled. The way Grimsley read her own porn to her made her more moist than she was even remotely willing to admit. "S-stop it," she shouted, barely even able to convince herself. "You shouldn't just go through someone's things like that."

He smirked to himself and flipped another bunch of pages. "The way the tide washed over Jasmine's body, each incoming wave crashing against her soft skin and leaving her slender frame dotted with small rivulets of water made Morty's legs lose all of their strength. He fell forward, his knees and hands digging into the wet sand as his hips now lay only an inch from hers. Colour filled into both of their faces, and to their mutual surprise, Jasmine spoke the first words in what seemed like an eternity. 'I've waited a long time for this.' Then, shy, timid Jasmine, instead of waiting for Morty to say anything, leaned forward and pressed her quivering lips to his. He took in a deep breath, and to her, it felt as though he was breathing in her essence, and to be fair, she felt a little dizzy because of it." He put down the 'book' for a moment and finally acknowledged her with his piercing blue gaze. "Oh come on, this isn't even porn."

It wasn't, and yet him reading the passage from it still turned her on. This was wrong. So very wrong. And yet, she did absolutely nothing to stop him from reading, even as, in the back of her head, a growing sense of dread begged her to do something,

Another page leap, and his eyes opened with surprise. "'Grimsley,' the Elite Four's pampered princess shuddered as the aristocrat's mouth opened with hunger. Another thrust inside of Caitlin,, and his lips pressed to her bared, alabaster neck. He could feel her throat tighten through the flesh, even feel the sharp breath she drew in. So deep inside of her, the girl enraptured and willing to give him her body in any way he so asked, she was easy prey. The teeth glanced her flesh, letting a single drop of scarlet heroin drip onto his tongue, and like a shark, that single drop was all it took to surrender his body and his will to the demon within." He regarded Shauntal skeptically as some terrible, sick level of amusement filled his expression. "You wrote vampire porn of me."

Her teeth grinding together, Shauntal took another step forward. "Get. Out."

In response, her colleague laughed. It was a rich laugh, one dripping with amusement and mockery. "Oh my dear, you have a gift, I must say. I was almost going to masturbate before you walked in. It takes a filthy mind to have both Professors Juniper tie Black to her bed and use him for a week on end, but then, I like filthy. I must say, I'm a fan of your work, Shauntal. Or rather," he closed the book to look at the online handle scribbled in the bottom corner, "Ghostwriter. Such an original name. These are all on the internet, I assume? I'd certainly like to read more."

She nodded. He was toying with her, she knew it, but he certainly had the upper hand here. After all, there was no telling how much he read already, and even if he skipped it, he'd know damn well that there was a story about Alder and Marshall in there, and the latter catching wind of her writing gay porn of him was a shitstorm she didn't want to provoke. "You can't tell anyone. Yo-you can't."

The laugh rang through her ears again. "Don't worry, love. I won't tell a soul. Under a few conditions, of course." That wasn't a good sign. "How long does it take to write one of these?"

"If I'm inspired enough, a few hours."

"Good, good. So, here is what I propose. I will keep your little secret if you make it worth my while. It's only a little past dinner time, I believe. You'll write something for me tonight, I will come back at midnight, and you will personally read it to me. In my lap. And yes, that means exactly what you think it means."

Shauntal trembled a little, and she tried her best to keep her legs still. Damn it, not only was he blackmailing her with something including sex, but after he read it to her, she felt like giving it to him. "Damn you."

He took a look around, noting the bed, just a single, and littered with crumpled pieces of paper. It was not a place someone as dignified as he would be willing to have sex. "Actually, maybe it would be best you come to my chambers. They're better equipped for this sort of thing. As for the story, I rather enjoyed the Juniper one. So maybe Black has a run-in with Cynthia. Yes, I would enjoy seeing that one." He set down the stairs before pausing a moment. "Oh, wear no panties. And if you can afford to, tear a hole in the crotch of your pantyhose. I like it when a woman has clothes on."

Anger and confusion and arousal boiled up inside of her, and she rushed over to her drawer. "Take your fucking socks!" she yelled, throwing a pair down the stairs at him before she fell face-first onto her bed. He had turned her on, embarrassed her, and blackmailed her, and now she had about five hours to come up with and write a whole short story. She sighed, grabbing a pen and a clean notebook, huddling on her bed that sat pressed in the corner. She leaned against the two perpendicular walls and tried to ignore the feeling between her legs as she set to work saving her ass.

...

Three knocks stirred Grimsley from his reading just a minute before midnight. He answered the door wearing only his scarf, the open jacket of his suit, and a smile.

"Bastard," she muttered in stark contrast to how her eyes ran over his abdomen and then below the waist, and another pang of arousal shook her. She held up the notebook. "I have it. Let's get this over with."

Grimsley smirked. "Don't be so tense. A bad attitude will just ruin things. Make most of tonight."

She tried to keep her eyes on Grimsley's rather than sink down to get another look at his shaft, make sure it was as big as she thought it was at first glance. Temptation was cruel, but she resisted.

"Crotch hole?"

"I tore it. You owe me a new pair."

"Keep my socks, we're even."

Shauntal was about to complain when a large, loud grandfather clock tolled, loud enough to scare her into jumping. "And you wonder why I wrote that vampire scene," she muttered.

"Enough of that. Let's move on to the bed, before I share that one with Caitlin." He thought a helpful reminder that her cooperation was important would help things along. He led the bespectacled trainer to exactly the kind of large, lavish bed she would have expected him to have, and again she got a little nervous. Especially as he lay out on the bed, giving her a smirk that made her knees buckle a little. She couldn't believe she was doing this, in more ways than one. Some of them made her a little angry, but others were a bit more carnal, even excited.

The fit, blue-haired man spread out on the bed, his expression somewhere between amusement and feigned boredom. The tuxedo coat lay open, hanging off of his sides and only barely on his shoulders. Her eyes traced down his body from his smile, and again her mouth fell open a little as she regarded his manhood. It brought out something in her that only words tended to, and she climbed onto the bed with her lip trembling and fumbled her attempt to even open the notebook to its first page. She looked up at him, and he gave her an inviting wave that was almost too nice and warm for her liking. She pulled up the hem of her skirt to reveal the purple pantyhose torn in the crotch region to reveal her womanhood, a little moist from how she had spent the evening so worked up over what he had done to her, how it aroused her.

She climbed into his lap nervously, and he let out a soothing little breath as his finger hooked into the collar of her dress, which showed just a little of her ample cleavage. "I am not going to hurt you, love. Relax, take a deep breath. If you're not going to enjoy this, then it will ruin the experience for me, too." As he spoke, the dress slowly strained from the pulling of the fabric until it relented and her round, supple breasts popped out, as did her shoulders. "Half-dressed, you still have some modesty, and I'm a bit of a sucker for a woman with her clothes mostly on."

With a grumble of something under her breath, Shauntal positioned herself above him, pulling the novel to her face and hiding the embarrassment, the deep shade of red that filled her cheeks as the first few inches of him entered her neglected, eager vagina. Her words were shaky. "The villa had grown boring for Sinnoh's statuesque blonde champion, who sat on the tacky, blue paisley lawn chair in a bikini that could hardly pass for-"

Grimsley sighed with visible boredom. "I had hoped you would have just written the good parts. Skip ahead, I can do without the excuse plot."

She looked at him sternly. Or at least, it was supposed to be stern. Instead, a sudden jerk of his hips rocked her and she gasped, pushing forward and letting her hand rest on his toned chest. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, and for all of his smarminess and the fact this was blackmail, there seemed to be a genuine warmth and passion to his touch that cold, emotionless sex shouldn't have provided. He trailed two fingers along her nylon-clad thigh, and she relented, flipping to the dog-eared page, a practice she always used to denote in her hard copies where the sex started.

He was all the way inside of her when she gasped the first word of the sex scene. "'What are you doing?' Black spat out as a hand reached from behind him and snaked its way up his shirt. The skin was soft and smooth, as though the hand had never really been used for anything, yet it was strong and forceful.

"'Slating my hunger,' growled the blonde behind him as she pulled him to her. 'Most boys your age would give up their dreams for a chance with me, can you really look me in the eye and tell me you won't?"

"The Nuvema Town trainer turned around, only to find Cynthia's coat was unbuttoned and the black shirt beneath it was gone. In fact, she wore only the coat, and those black-sleeved arms grabbed his neck and head, pulling him in so that his face pressed against her heaving bosom, where his moist, warm breath tickled at the valley of her cleavage. Whatever answer he may have had was lost amidst all the thoughts swirling through his mind. He couldn't remember if it was a yes or a maybe-he certainly couldn't give an up-front no to a woman so incredibly beautiful and exuding such raw sexuality as Cynthia-but she had made his decision for him, and he was in no position to complain."

The smile across Grimsley's face widened as Shauntal continued to bury her face in the book, trying to keep her words steady and hide the enjoyment that every other inch of her delicious body betrayed. His hand ran along the outline of her outer thighs and up hips curvier than her dress led on, along her hips, and finally cupping one of the breasts that bounced a little with her haphazard motions atop him. The soothing, careful touch seemed genuine where his face carried his usual cold, distant expression.

"More," he whispered, a gentle sound that carried to her ears and seemed to ease up every tense muscle, seemed to melt away a lot of the nervousness within her. Another jerk of his hips from beneath her, and a pang of pleasure shot up through her like none she had felt in even distant memory. Her shouders hunched forward and her glasses slid a little bit down her nose. He was so deep inside of her, so big, a thousand adjectives rushing through her mind that all screamed for attention, but only one word pushed its way through.

"Yes."

A moan formed on his lips at her response as her motions grew much more natural and passionate, intimacy finally breaking out across her gorgeous form as she moved faster and with more force, as opposed to meek little up-and-down she had before. On top of it all, as the story progressed and she grew wilder and more in utter need of pleasure, her delivery grew far more arousing.

"'Who could have thought such a young boy would be so good?' Cynthia groaned, her fingers digging into fistfuls of bedsheet as Black lay atop her. Each thrust inside of her radiated pure pleasure that echoed back through her body again. Every nerve seemed aflame, only helped by his face buried in her breasts licking and suckling in a way no inexperienced boy could ever muster. 'Harder,' she moaned," and Shauntal's delivery seemed to almost be acting by the way her voice shook with pleasure and each few words seemed to be moaned. The book was now out of her face, which was purely visible, more confident. She was unfettered now, free of any shame or conflict as long-denied desires to be atop Grimsley, to feel him throbbing inside of her as he moaned her name in his thick, velvety voice were fulfilled in a way she could have never dreamed.

"Her hand ruffled his hair as she demanded to know how he was so skilled at pleasing women, and he dared not speak, knowing it was the arousal, knowing she didn't mean it. Nothing would upset her-or him, for that matter-more than lifting her face from her bosom, which had surely been a gift from Arceus himself, along with every last wonderful curve of her form which had screamed out to him. One hand grasped her firm, heart-shapped rear as the other eagerly kneaded the flesh of the breast his tongue paid worship to.

Writhing beneath the boy, Cynthia choked down as many moans as she could if only to try and maintain her composure. She didn't have the same sturdiness with words, though, moaning and begging for more, consenting to be wrecked however the boy so pleased if only his throbbing shaft refused to leave her until her body was utterly satisfied."

Smiles were shared by both Elite Four members as it dawned on them at once how close to home the words hit. His hands touched her in places that made her twitch and moan, especially her full, soft breasts and her firm butt. Courage had long since swelled up inside of her and she now rode him vigorously, rolling her hips back and forth as she bounced along his shaft.

Finally having awakened her inner sexual animal, Grimsley sat back with a satisfied grin, hands on her hips to help her along, reeling in the pleasure of her tight entrance, so wet it seemed to moisten his own pelvis, and divinely tight around him. Of course, he was so well-hung that most any woman was tight, but she seemed to fit him just right, snugly like a glove. His eyes watched her mouth, watched each syllable form on those attractive, soft lips, as each hard, exaggerated syllable made something inside of him beat hard. She was working him over now, seducing him with her overblown, seemingly-acted reading in her voice that dripped with lust. He knew it wasn't an act, though, as she was never a convincing liar. Now, the passion in her voice was real, and that made it all the sweeter for him.

"Fingers dug into Black's back now, slowly scratching down, setting the flesh red with pain where it tore, sending a snarl out of his mouth as he heaved atop her. His breath was heavy as his lips assaulted hers in a way that could only be described as animalistic. He wasn't himself as his entire body surged with frantic lust fuelled by her beauty, her fragrance, and of course her dripping, warm honeypot. It brought out a best in him that revelled in indulging every last ounce of carnal bliss with her body. Each powerful thrust inside of her made her whole body shift, made her breasts heave, made a moan spill from her mouth under attack by his vicious, hungry tongue. They were both spiralling rapidly into their wonderful, explosive conclusion.

"'F-f-fuck!' Cynthia howled," and the emphasiss was all Shauntals. She could barely keep her grasp solid on the book, and the way her head fell back as her body pressed to his one more time made her glass almost fall. When she levelled out again, they were more crooked then before, barely hanging onto her face as she tried to look at the words but couldn't bring herself to concentrate. It all grew too much, and all the focus she put into riding Grimsley left her without enough to hold onto her bearings and keep reading. The way his fingers treated the flesh, the way he moaned from the pleasure she gave him, the way he seemed to shiver whenever she read a particularly hot passage or moaned as Cynthia did, all brought her ever closer to a conclusion of her own. As Grimsley's cool demeanour faded, she could see that he was, too.

"That was it for Cynthia. She couldn't take the pleasure any more, so happy with the boy she took home as she thrashed beneath him, pleasure cutting through her body and igniting everything in its wake. She tingled with pure nirvana as her body tightened around all around his stiff boyhood pounding her tightly. 'Yes, Black!' she moaned, the only words she could string together with her head spiralling out of focus or coherence.

"One more forceful thrust into her convulsing flower, and the boy let out a yelp far more vulnerable than any sound he had made all evening. His body shuddered and a jolt ran up his spine that made him tear his mouth away from hers. Something warm spurted into Cynthia as he slammed in another time, this time stopping dead in his tracks and laying atop her, head resting on hers, breathing harder than he ever had before."

The notebook was flung across the bedroom as Shauntal pressed another hand on his chest and leaned in forward, her full breasts swaying a little as her motions grew too much. He relented first, his smirk vanishing as his expression snapped into something not at all rehearsed or feigned. His hips shoved upward against her, and something warm and sticky spread out inside of her aching, dripping canal. It was the final straw as her own orgasm hit. Her arms weakened and she could barely stay upright as she trembled atop him, his shaft buried to the hilt inside of her as she lost her mind. The culmination of being left wanting for hours, all the while furiously writing, only to find herself having such wonderful sex, all created a perfect storm inside of her that made her trembled through an orgasm more powerful than she could remember.

When things subsided and her head was on right, she found that her glasses had fallen off somewhere in the whole mess, her dress and ripped pantyhose were gone, and she lay benath the covers with Grimsley's arms around her.

"So," he smirked. "For tomorrow night, I'd rather enjoy hearing about about Flannery's run-in with Roark and Byron."

"Can I read it to you during sex?" she sighed.

"Of course."

She looked up at his blurry face and could tell there was a smile. She planted her lips on his softly, giving him the most passive of kisses with all the energy she could muster. To be certain, she would write him anything he wanted.