#icarly belly rub

[ilovesarahkay7]

(via GIPHY) Miranda Cosgrove iCarly Belly Rub

[bates--boy]

Makeup removing oil, reusable wipes, and face toner set side-by-side on the vanity, the signal of the end of the day, and god, was Peter glad for it. He couldn’t wait to have his makeup off, to be stripped down to a pair of shorts, and get settled into his reading nook with his book, his thick-boy copy of Kuang’s “Babel”. Maybe later on, he could reward himself with a big bowl of gelato after tucking Caleb in for the night; he did deserve it, after all, after suffering that presser. 

         He began peeling off his lashes when his phone rang. He swiped the call button to answer and switched to speaker. “Yo!”

          “Peterrrrrrrrr!”

           Peter blinked and snorted, raising his penciled brows at the phone sitting beside him. “Ha ha, Naseeeeeeeeem!”

          “Guess what, my beloved little canary?!”

           Peter stared at the screen, his lashes forgotten. What was this energy? “What is it, my most prized stallion?”

           “Guess who’s got a call for a second audition?!”

           “What?! Audition?” Peter picked up the phone, now gaping at it in disbelief, his mind reeling back to the months before, trying to remember when Naseem had mentioned anything about auditioning. “For what?”

         “You know that new show that’s coming out? Wild Card?”

          Isn’t that the weird Swedish version of iCarly? Peter thought. “Uh, yeah, I’ve seen some ads on Twitter or something. And congrats, by the way! I’m so happy for you! But... Why didn’t you tell me that you were auditioning for it?”

           “I didn’t want to tell you about it until I at least get a callback. You know, so I won’t jinx it. Anyways, get dolled up for me, we’re going out to dinner to celebrate.”

           It’s just a second audition, though, isn’t it? Peter had wanted to ask, but bit his tongue as he worked on peeling off the second lash. He’d be damned if he ruined his love’s fantastic mood. Besides, Peter knew little about auditioning for television series; maybe second auditions were pretty much a guaranteed in. Luckily, he had an outfit in mind as he said to the phone, “Okay, babe, I’ll get ready. I love you.”

          “Love ya, too. I’m gonna call Sheer and tell her, too. See you in a bit!”

--

What they’ve found after Ashira’s swearing off alcohol was that they didn’t need booze for a good time; sugary sparkling grape juice was more than enough to get everyone into a good mood, to have Peter, Naseem, and Ashira loosen their inhibitions.

         Dinner was decadent, and dessert was divine, slow and smooth. They had to be careful around Ashira’s bump, had to work a perfect balance of pain and pleasure with her increasingly sensitive tits, but pacing themselves and going easy proved to be a delightful form of edging on its own. They lied tangled together in the sweetest afterglow, Peter enjoying the musk that filled the room like a piece of chocolate placed on his tongue, attached to Naseem as the man used him as a cock warmer.

         “You still up, sweets?” Naseem murmured against Peter’s neck.

          “Mhm,” Peter hummed, scooting closer into Naseem, groaning as he felt Naseem’s spent dick filling him. “Yeah. What’s up?”

         Naseem kissed him through his hair. “Nothing, I was just... Can I tell you something?”

          “Of course!” Peter moved his hand off Ashira’s belly, detaching from the mild resentful envy he felt tainting his otherwise happy mood, and rubbed the arm wrapped around his hips. “What is it?”

          Naseem sighed, and Peter shivered at the warm breath that tickled his bare shoulder. “I... don’t actually like sitcom acting.”

          “What?” Peter wanted to turn around and face him, but a part of his head knew that extracting Naseem from himself and shifting around (and possibly waking up a very drained Ashira) to do so was too much hassle. “Why? When this works, you’ll get to be on TV!”

          “We’ve been on TV plenty of times,” Naseem pointed out.

           “You know what I mean!” Peter blinked, absentmindedly watching Ashira’s bare breasts go up and down with each light snore. “This’ll be good for your acting career! It’ll have a bigger reach than being on stage, right?”

          “That’s if I get the role, and it’s still going to be a pretty minor one,” Naseem explained, and Peter wished he didn’t sound so defeated about it; sure, he knew that Naseem should have gotten a bigger role, but he also knew that whatever role Naseem had, he was going to make memorable. Plus, hadn’t Naseem explained during dinner that if all went well, the role would likely have more screen time?

            Naseem rubbed Peter’s stomach, and slid his hand down to Peter’s thigh. Peter willed himself to not get hard again, not during this confessional. “Even if it’s a bigger role, I don’t really want it.”

           “Why?”

           “Because, sweets, so much can go wrong with acting for a studio audience. People would laugh at the wrong time and ruin the joke --”

         “Don’t they have recorded laughter for that?”

         “That’s even worse!” Naseem laughed, and Peter couldn’t tell if there was genuine humor behind it. “People could tell when the laugh is canned, and it gives the show that How I Met Your Mother or The Big Bang Theory vibes.”

       Oh, God! Peter balked. “Yeah, that... would be bad.”

       “Plus,” Naseem went on, “Who knows if this show would even see the light of day, let alone make it to season two.” Peter felt movement behind him, heard a scuffing of fabric, probably Naseem shaking his head. “So many sitcoms crash and are forgotten about, and the ones we see today, like the ones I mention--”

        “--And Two Broke Girls --”

        “And Drake and Josh--”

        “Only after season three--”

        “Anyways, all those shows, they give sitcoms a bad name. When people watch a new series, it’s begrudgingly, and mostly because there’s nothing else good on. Even the good ones can jump the shark and piss off long-time fans.

         “It’ll take a really, really good sitcom to be a stepping stone into other, better projects, Peter, and that stuff is rare nowadays. I doubt Wild Card will be critically acclaimed. I just have to hope that it won’t be so bad that it’ll follow me for the rest of my career.”

            Peter licked his lips before pursing them. He reached down to the hand that was rubbing up and down his thigh and held it. “So... are you going to turn it down?”

        “No.” Naseem sighed. “If I get it, I’m going to take it. It’s still an acting gig, after all.”

[ilovesarahkay7]

Miranda Cosgrove Belly Rub (iCarly)