Ny ([info]not_yet_defined) wrote in [info]bj_action on September 22nd, 2007 at 07:55 pm
Theme #6: Orgasm Control - 2 of 5
Title: Dinner With Clients
Author: [info]vamphile
Timeline: Post 513 set in my Raw!Verse in which Brian and Justin decided to fuck raw on their wedding night, which changed to the night before Justin left for New York
Warnings: None
Betas: [info]xie_xie_xie and [info]vlredreign


He pulls out… again, running his hands along my torso, letting my body calm back down. I curse at him, he leans forward and I whimper against his mouth, pressing my cock against his thigh, needing the friction, but he pulls back, shaking his head slowly as it hovers above mine. It’s been hours, or is it days, weeks, months? All I know is it started at dinner.

He knows I hate doing the couple thing with clients but for some reason he insisted, so there we were. I wanted him before we left the apartment. His suit, his tie, his attitude, all of it just made me want to take his carefully composed look and leave it in a wrinkled heap by the bed. He kissed me and sort of laughed. He knew what I wanted but shook his head and draped an arm over my shoulder, ushering me out the door.

While Brian schmoozed the client and his wife I tried not to molest him under the table. He didn’t even try not to do the same to me. His hand was on my thigh while he talked about media buying rates and possible publications. Why was I here again? His hand moved slowly between my legs, palming my cock over my pants and I sat back a little. I didn’t care why I was here; I just didn’t want to leave right now. He teased me like that all through dinner, his smug smile never dropping. I wanted to smack him, or return the favor, but whenever my hand disappeared under the table his moved away from me. I learned the lesson quickly. I kept my hands visible at all times and tried not to groan over my scallops with fettuccini in a white truffle sauce. Maybe they just assumed I thought the food was really good. God, I hope so.

After dinner he continued the conversation; I’d lost track of it long ago. His hand moved from my thigh and I sighed, although I’m not sure if it was relief or frustration. He idly knocked the ice in his empty scotch glass from side to side for a moment, seeming to consider what the man’s wife had just said, and then leaned back, dropping his hand around my waist. Too late I realized what he was doing as a wet finger slid under the waistband of my pants and found it’s way with deadly accuracy to my hole.

The water was still cold, and as his finger curved and slid inside me I almost choked on my wine. I took a deep breath through my nose and swallowed, smiling at the couple across from us while I cursed his name in my head. I shifted against the high back of the booth and I’m not sure if I was trying to get away from his finger or let him in deeper. All I know was that the dinner was taking way too long. He ordered dessert and coffee and when it came he pulled his finger out of me and instead cupped my ass, kneading it under my pants. I don’t remember if I got the chocolate mousse or the Crème Brulée. I don’t think I had coffee. I could be wrong. I was hard and leaking and when I made a move to excuse myself to the men’s room he gripped my ass even tighter. I got the message and he wasn’t wrong, how exactly was I going to maneuver out of the booth and through the restaurant in this condition? I leaned back and he smiled at me.

He removed his hand to pay the check and when we left, I had talked myself down enough to get into the cab, but once there his hands were back on my thigh. I moved to kiss him but he pushed me back a little, leaning forward, his mouth hovering above mine, sharing my air, which was suddenly in short supply. When he did kiss me it was light and gentle and not nearly enough, just like his touch, which was now focused on my balls. He paid the driver and I tried to go down on him in the elevator. He pulled me back up, promising that it’d all be okay when we got to bed.

He lied. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t a lie, he didn’t say as soon as we got to bed…

I headed straight for the bedroom, undressing quickly. He stopped to check his mail, set the alarm and hang up his clothes before he stood at the foot of the bed, watching me watch him. I was stroking myself, and so close. He had a small smile on his face and I was fine with him just watching. I needed to come and if he wanted to see me jerk off, I’d give him a show. I spread my legs, planting my feet on the mattress and thrusting up into my well-lubed hand. When my strokes sped up he moved closer to me and then he grabbed my wrist, stopping all movement, uncurling my fingers and pulling my hand away. I whined, I know I did, I didn’t care, I still don’t. I moved my other hand to finish the job, but he did that highly annoying head shake thing again. This time I ignored it. That’s why my hands are tied to the bed. I should have seen that coming.

He covered my body with his, attaching the restraints together and then to the middle of the headboard. I pressed up against him, trying to get the tiny bit of friction I needed. I was so close… I still am.

He shook his head and moved to kneel between my thighs, stroking my slick cock, again lightly, almost not even touching it as one finger traced a vein on the underside of it. Just one finger. I moved, pressing my ass into the air. If he was only going to use one finger, I wanted it inside me.

He drizzled the lube along my crack and let that finger follow it’s path. I tried to push down, to trap him inside me but I couldn’t. He covered my body again, this time letting his cock slip between my cheeks, pressing at my hole but not pushing in, not fucking me. I was shaking, my legs wrapped around his waist, my body curling under his, my tongue sucking his inside my mouth. I could come, just like this. I rocked against him and he pulled back. He still hadn’t said a word since we’d gotten home. I’ve never wanted him so badly in my life.

He pulled back reaching behind him to uncross my ankles. I tried to resist but he was firm and finally spoke. “Do you want me to tie your legs down, too?”

I kind of did, but for some reason wasn’t ready to let him know that. I think he knew it anyway. I let my legs fall to the side, spread wide under him. He pushed at my thighs, stoking me just right, licking and nipping at the sensitive skin where my thighs stopped and my groin began. I closed my eyes, unable to keep quiet. I tried but he whispered something, letting me know it was okay to make noise. I don’t know why I needed his permission, but I felt like I did tonight, like I needed it to even breathe. His hands slid up my torso, his thumbs circling my nipples and then his thumbnails lightly scratching at them, like they haven’t been hard since the appetizers.

I closed my eyes as his head disappeared between my legs. He was sucking on the head of my cock, lightly, licking it and then moving away, his hands left my nipples and he pushed softly at the smooth spot behind my balls. I gasped and bucked into his mouth so he pulled away completely.

“You’re close.”

I nodded. Biting back the “duh” I wanted to use as my brilliant reply.

He reached into the drawer and I wanted to scream. “I want to fuck you.” His voice was low, even and a little rough. I wanted him to fuck me, so what the hell was he fumbling around in the drawer for?

“I don’t want you to come, not yet.”

I let my head fall back against the pillow and spread my legs wider. “Inside me Brian, please.”

He nodded but then snapped the leather around the base of my cock and I shook my head. “Brian, no.”

He looked up at me, stroking my cock, his other hand moved to cradle the side of my face. “You don’t want me to fuck you?”

“I need to… Brian, please, I want to come.”

He smiled. “You always want to come.”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help it. “We have that in common.”

“Soon, Justin.” I sighed as his hands moved to the cock ring, but he didn’t remove it, he tightened it. I whimpered and he pushed the head of his cock inside me. I moaned his name as he filled me, inching his way inside me until he was pressing against my prostate, his fingers pressing from the outside. I bucked under him and then wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, needing him inside me, even if we were further away from my orgasm than I wanted. He kept moving inside me, and I moved with him. We’d perfected our rhythm years ago and I should be about fifteen seconds from coming but I’m not. I’m fifteen seconds from begging, or possibly punching him in the face, or both.

He can tell and he pulls out completely, letting my body relax, the tension subsides and so does the desire to punch him, the desire to beg is still strong and only gets stronger as his touch becomes lighter. He kisses me almost chastely. I try to press my tongue between his lips but he’s got something to prove tonight, I can’t imagine what it might be. That he can make me beg? That he can make me quiver with need? He’s proven that a thousand times over. I tell him so and he smiles and pushes into me again. “If I take it off you’re still not allowed to come.”

I nod, promising something that no reasonable person can promise, but then no reasonable person would be in love with Brian Kinney and really, no reasonable person would ask this of someone so it’s all kind of a pointless train of thought. His hand slides over my shaft and he flicks the snap open with his thumb. I feel a gush of pre-come slide over the head of my cock, his finger follows it and he feeds it to me. I suck on his finger and concentrate on anything that will keep me from coming. I don’t know why, it’s not reasonable to try to follow this request, or command, but we covered this already, didn’t we?

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t stop fucking me and doesn’t stop stopping. As soon as I’m close, as I feel the tingling in the base of my spine, he tugs at my balls holding them away from my body and pulls out, leaning over me, whispering soothing syllables against my ear, holding me, but not moving, not really giving me room to move. When I can’t control it, and I’m rutting against his hip he pulls away completely and unclips my hands from the headboard. I moan, not stupid enough to think he’s finally going to let me come, instead he flips me over, gently, almost reverently, and strokes my back, pressing at my thighs until I’m on my knees. He attaches my hands back to the headboard and I think I’m crying now.

He kisses between my shoulder blades and in one quick thrust is back inside my ass. I try to move lower, to grind against the sheets but I know he won’t follow me, I’ll be empty, and I don’t want that. I try to push back against him but his strong hands on my hips prevent that. Instead he just keeps going, fucking me and then stopping, letting us both cool off enough for him to feel safe in starting again.

My body is on fire. I close my eyes tightly and feel him, pressed against my ass, not moving. I know he’s close now too. Fine, two can play at this game. I squeeze my ass against him, hard, trapping him inside me, massaging him as I clench and release against him, rocking the tiniest bit, the wet head of his cock barely making contact with my prostate each time I push back.

He smacks my ass and when he says my name his voice breaks. I don’t stop. Clench and rock, clench and rock, he slaps my ass again and I bite my lip to keep from moaning, it feels so good. I shake my head, trying to dislodge my hair, sweaty and plastered against my face. I pull forward against the headboard and push back with all my strength. He grunts and I feel him come inside me.

I feel his cock pulse and as he thrusts into me and pulls out, just the tiniest bit. His come slides down over my balls. That undoes me. I feel a rush of heat that starts in the center of my body and flows outward, up to my neck, down to my toes. I can hear the blood pounding in my ears, feel Brian’s heart beating through his chest against my back, feel the hot gush and satisfying exhilaration as I finally come. White lights burst behind my eyelids. Brian’s groans combine with mine and I think I’m going to pass out. I don’t know if I’ve ever had an orgasm so intense, it leaves me feeling weak and overwhelmed, even as my body shudders and shakes, contracting around him. My legs give out on me. I collapse. He does follow me this time. I’m lying under him, pressed against the wet mess that are our sheets. His hand reaches up to stroke my hair, wiping it from my face, and then moves higher and unhooks my hands, from the headboard and each other. He kisses my neck and then whispers into it. “Did I say you could come? Maybe I should punish you.”

I don’t laugh, because reminding him right now that he doesn’t have the energy to roll off of me, let alone punish me might seem cruel. Also because I’m not sure I have the energy to speak, or breathe, or think, instead I nod. “Later, okay?” My voice is raspy, almost a croak. My eyes flutter closed again.

He nods; I feel it against my neck.

An hour later I wake up and wriggle out from under him a little. His arm reaches out in his sleep to find me and pull me closer. I close my eyes and when I open them again, it’s morning and he’s already in the shower. I join him.
 
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