britin1729 (britin1729) wrote in _love_qaf_fic, @ 2009-06-22 00:58:00 |
|
|||
It was amazing how much fun I could have just imagining sex with Justin. It shouldn't be that fun. It shouldn't make me have to think of Theodore's feet just to stop myself from coming right then and there. It shouldn't—but it did.
I'd stopped by one of my favorite little shops on Liberty Ave. on my way home from work one evening, spending a few minutes browsing between the shelves. I was the only one who didn't jump and look around every time the door opened and allowed a new customer inside. It was rather amusing, really, to watch people who were apparently bold enough to go for handcuffs and slings and dildos blush because someone they knew came strolling through the door.
I took my time, considering the color, size, and weight of each individual dildo, and, more specifically, the way it would look disappearing into Justin's ass. I subtly reached down to adjust my pants.
Selecting a thick red one, I moved on to the butt plugs and handcuffs. One toy was enough for this time, but eventually...well, I looked forward to trying most of my collection out on my—on him.
Satisfied with my decision, I carried it to the check out counter, fighting a grin at the flush that crept onto the cashier's face. He must be new here. I ignored the highly interested glance from a young brunette entering the shop just as I was leaving, and headed back to my jeep. Believe it or not, I had more important things to do tonight.
I flirted with ticket-worthy speeds all the way home, trying to keep my mind focused on something other than shoving that big red dildo right up Justin's ass and fucking him senseless with it. Thrusting it in and out of him, making him whimper and plead....
Anyway, I was exceedingly thankful that I'd told him to come by the loft after his shift at the diner. He wasn't there yet by the time I got home, so I took the time to drop the brand new dildo on the bed and shower while I waited. Fifteen minutes later, the door slid open, and there he was.
“Hey.” His tone was decidedly casual, but the blinding, ear-to-ear smile on his face betrayed him.
“Hey. Come here.” He wasted no time at all in following me to the bedroom. I could practically sense his excitement as he kicked off his shoes and bounded after me.
“I got you something,” I told him, hardly able to contain my own excitement. Which was pathetic, really. He was seventeen, and just beginning to experience the wonders of sex. Plus, it was me. Who wouldn't be a bit flustered? I, however, had no excuse as to why the idea of shoving a dildo up his ass was just so fucking incredibly hot. It wasn't as though I'd never done it before. I'd just never done it to him.
“What's that?” he asked, his curiosity aroused as he spotted the bag containing the dildo on the bed.
I climbed onto the bed and pulled him down with me by the hand, reaching for the bag. “Open it,” I told him, tossing it into his lap.
With a questioning look at me, he did as he was told. I watched his eyes grow wide as he realized what it was.
“A dildo?” he asked, glancing at me, then frowning at it, considering, weighing it in his hand.
“I figured I needed a new one to mark the occasion,” I shrugged.
“What occasion?” he asked, smiling a little.
“The first time I fuck you with a dildo,” I told him matter-of-factly.
He laughed, but it was more nervous than amused. I gently removed the toy from his hand, drawing his attention back to me. I figured he would be a little bit scared the first time, but I didn't want him completely freaked out. This was supposed to be fun.
“I've never used one,” he admitted, as though I didn't already know that.
“You, uh, up for it tonight?” I asked him, quirking an eyebrow suggestively.
He seemed to deliberate for the period of about three seconds, then smiled and nodded. After a moment, it became apparent that he wasn't going to make the first move, so I leaned over and kissed him. That was another thing I'd never understand. Out of all the guys I'd kissed in my life, all the talented tongues and lips, I'd never enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed kissing him. He was a fucking natural, that was for sure. It was like, when I was kissing tricks, it was all a part of the experience. Routine. When it was Justin...it was more. There was this enthusiasm that he kissed me with that none of the tricks ever had. Like maybe it was more about me than about the kiss itself. Like it was more about him, too. More about us.
Shaking that confusing as fuck thought from my head, I reached up to unbutton the pale blue shirt he was wearing. I'd never tell him, but I rather enjoyed that style and color on him. The color because it just made him look so incredibly appetizing, and the style because I secretly relished the act of slowly undoing each and every button, all the way down his chest.
He arched into my touch as I left his lips to suck on his neck, leaving behind a mark for him to proudly sport well into tomorrow. I'd caught him in my bathroom once, staring into the mirror, admiring the red blotches I'd left on his skin. He loved them, so the next time I fucked him, I deliberately left them all over his entire body, nipping and sucking and kissing him everywhere. The next time I saw him at the diner after that, he was wearing a turtleneck.
He wasted no time at all in attempting to devour me—or rather, allowing me to devour him—his arms thrown around my neck as he pulled me down on top of him. That was something else about him...he absolutely could never get enough. He'd take whatever he could get, anytime, anywhere. I'd never known someone, besides myself, to be so insatiable. If he wasn't trying to get me to fuck him, he was palming my dick through my jeans until I couldn't take it anymore, and then falling to his knees to suck me off. And if it wasn't my cock, it was my tongue, and if it wasn't his mouth, it was his ass. Not that I spent a lot of time protesting. Okay, maybe I did, but I wasn't a complete idiot. I wasn't going to turn down a blow job, even if it did mean dragging him home with me—again—and letting him sleep in my bed. Besides, having him in my bed just meant that I could wake him up at four in the morning for a fuck if I felt like it, and he'd be awake with his ass in the air in five seconds flat.
His hands twisted in my hair as I fucked his mouth with my tongue, ripping his shirt the rest of the way off him. I dove for his nipple, causing him to hiss in pleasure and arch up into my mouth. I teased it with my tongue and teeth for a while, then moved to the other one. He couldn't keep still, his hands alternating between gripping my hair, to running over my shoulders, to fisting in the sheets as I played with the ring adorning his nipple. I poked my tongue through the hoop, pulling on it gently, then pressed my mouth to it, grinning around the metal ring as he writhed beneath me.
His hands flew to my hair again when I dipped lower, flicking my tongue out to lap at his belly-button, then undid his jeans to pull them around his knees. I deliberately left them there, confining him, and slid even lower to press my face into his crotch through his underwear. He practically jumped off the bed, seeking contact. I took mercy and pulled his jeans the rest of the way off, tossing them out of the way and slipping my fingers just beneath the band of his underwear before pulling them off, too.
His eyes were squeezed shut, sprawled out on my bed and waiting so patiently for me to do something. And as much as I wanted to see that dildo plunging into his ass, I could stand to draw it out a little more, in the interest of making him crazy.
“Roll over,” I ordered gently. He did as he was told without hesitation, but glanced back over his shoulder, biting his lip before turning around and burying his face in the pillow. I rubbed my hand up and down his back, sending goosebumps prickling up his spine. “You ready?”
There was a millisecond's pause in which I wondered if he would actually go through with it, but then he nodded, his hand stretching down the bed toward me. I took it in mine without second thought, and if I wasn't so distracted by the sight of his ass, bare for my viewing pleasure, I might have questioned that a little more.
As it was, I couldn't quite tear my mind away from that ass, that oh-so-fuckable blond boy ass of his that I couldn't get enough of. Still griping his hand in mine, I ran my free hand down his back again, over his soft globes, making him shudder beneath my palm. I moved to settle in between his thighs, pushing them further apart, my arm stretched out above me to keep a hold of his fingers. He let out a barely audible breath, his grip tightening, waiting for it.
He groaned when he felt my tongue there instead, his grasp on my hand growing ever tighter with pleasure, pressing his ass up into my face as I lapped at his hole. He continued to make all sorts of delicious noises as I pressed the tip of my tongue inside him, fucking him with it, before pulling it back out and running it over his wrinkled skin.
“God...fuck me...” he moaned, his voice muffled by the pillow. “Fuck, Brian...please...”
And really, who was I to deny him what he truly wanted?
I reached for the dildo now, running it along his crack, more to let him know it was there than to tease.
“You want me to fuck you with this?” I whispered throatily.
“Yeah...fuck me...”
“You want me to shove it up your ass and fuck you like its my cock? You want it inside you?”
“Please...” he practically whimpered.
Grinning now in anticipation, I let go of his hand and reached for the tube of lube on the nightstand. Popping the cap, I squeezed a decent amount onto two of my fingers before pressing them lightly against his tight pink hole. His breath hitched, though whether at the cold or the sensation of my fingers there, I wasn't sure. Making sure he was well coated with lube, I pressed one finger inside him, then the other; he groaned, his ass clenching around me, drawing me deeper inside.
I decided to indulge myself, and took the time to slowly stroke him inside, pulling my fingers out, then pushing them back in, working him open. Christ, if the image of fucking him with my fingers got me this hard, what the fuck was the dildo going to do to me?
I squeezed a considerable amount of lube onto the end of said dildo before pulling my fingers out of him and replacing them with the thick red toy, ready at his entrance. “Ready?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he moaned, pushing his ass up to me, begging to be fucked. Now this was more like it.
My fingers found his again as I slowly pushed the very end of the dildo into his ass. Luckily, his groan was plenty loud enough to mask the involuntary one that escaped my throat. Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to slide it the rest of the way inside him, pausing every now and then to allow him to get used to it.
Soon, he was writhing on the bed, muttering curses under his breath. And I wasn't even fucking him yet. I stopped pushing it in, just taking a moment to appreciate how fucking erotic he looked, spread wantonly on the bed, the end of the brand new dildo sticking out of his ass. Encouraged by his response, I gripped the end of it tightly, slowly pulled it out, and then thrust it back in.
“Fuck!” he cried against my pillow. The curse was accompanied by quite a bit of incoherent muttering, and a lot more writhing and squirming. Utterly pleased with this reaction, I did it again.
He whimpered, arching up to take more of it inside him, then whimpered again when I pulled it almost all the way out.
His grip on my hand had become almost painful, and tightened with every single thrust. Soon, he was crying out in ecstasy loud enough for one of the neighbors to justifiably call the cops for disturbing the peace. I couldn't help but be thoroughly mesmerized by the sight of the dildo disappearing into his ass, both of us reaching for our cocks. I wasn't done enjoying this yet, however, so I pulled his hand away, making him groan in frustration.
“Not yet,” I warned him. I reached for my own dick again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of the dildo in Justin's ass. “Take it inside you,” I said, my voice sounding rather hoarse and raspy. “So fucking hot...”
Anything but inactive, he continued to push back every time I shoved the dildo in deeper. That was another thing I enjoyed about fucking him—even as a bottom, he was just an active a participant as I was, as the top.
“On your knees,” I told him, and he scrambled up on all fours, still grunting and groaning his approval at what I was doing to his ass. I moved to close the distance between us, keeping a tight hold on the dildo, and rested my weight on him as I reached forward to take his cock into my hand.
“You like that?” I asked. He didn't reply, but going by the way we suddenly sunk closer to the bed as his knees nearly gave out, I supposed I could make a safe guess and say that yes, he most certainly did. “You love being fucked like this, don't you?”
“Ugh— ” he answered. Which I took as a compliment. The way I saw it, the better the sex was, the less coherent you became.
I toyed with him some more, smearing his own pre-cum all over his cock, teasing his balls. Any second now, it would all be over. No way could he last like this.
I thrust once, twice, three more times and, just as I'd expected, my hand was covered with hot, sticky evidence of Justin's intense pleasure. I pushed myself back off of him right before he collapsed onto the bed. Carefully, I removed the dildo.
It was a moment before he wound down from the high enough to roll back over and face me, but when he did, his eyes went straight to my still-hard dick as I stroked it, trying to keep the image of him on the bed getting fucked by the dildo in my head.
I barely even realized when he sat up, but it certainly didn't go unnoticed when he put his hand on top of mine, jerking me off, and soon I was coming over both our fingers, my breath ragged as we fell back to the bed together.
“So...” I said after I managed to catch my breath, rolling over and propping myself up on my elbow. “How was it?”
He grinned at me, and I swore the sun outside the window was put to shame. “Great,” he admitted. “You always make it great.”
I had to smile at the obvious ego-stroking. Of course I was always great. Or maybe it wasn't blatant ego-stroking, and he honestly just appreciated my expertise. Probably the second one. I hadn't missed the subtle emphasis on the word you. It sounded more like Justin to be ridiculously sentimental and tell me how amazingly mind-blowing and perfect I was. Not that he was wrong, it was just most people didn't gush over me quite as much as he did.
“I know.”
His smile brightened before fading, like a star during supernova. He looked uncertain, his nervous demeanor returning. Then he reached out and took my hand again, eyes closing immediately, as though he didn't want to wait to see my reaction.
He didn't say anything—his face kept carefully neutral—when, after a moment's hesitation, I pulled away. I didn't pretend to understand the slight wrenching sensation in my gut, nor did I bother trying to figure it out. Not when the alternative was lying beside him, watching him surrender to his body's exhaustion, a look of quiet acceptance gracing his features. Or maybe that was just how I saw it.
He fell asleep without another word, and when I was sure he was well and truly lost to the world, I reached over and gently laid my hand on top of his.