Ny ([info]not_yet_defined) wrote in [info]bj_action on August 13th, 2007 at 06:00 pm
Theme #2: Toppy!Justin w/Twist - 3 of 3
Title: Golden Rule

Author: [info]vamphile

Beta’d by [info]xie_xie_xie

Challenge Toppy!Justin With A Twist

Justin came home and collapsed on the bed. Brian sat down next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “Tough day?”

Justin glared at him. “That was so not fair.”

Brian kneeled at the edge of the bed between Justin’s knees and worked the fly of his jeans, pulling them off while Justin continued to simply lie there like a rag doll. When his jeans were tossed aside, Brian pushed at Justin’s knees a little. “Do you want me to take it out?”

Justin nodded, and then moaned when Brian twirled the plug before pulling gently.

Half an hour later Brian was moving to the side to avoid crushing him.

“Worth the wait?”

Justin turned in Brian's arms and kissed him. “You have no idea what it’s like to try and get anything done, when all you can think about is how much you want to get home. I was hard almost all day.”

Brian’s hand moved down Justin’s back, pressing his ass forward and feeling his cock lying against his thigh. “You could have just gone to the bathroom and jerked off.”

“I did. Twice. Doesn’t help when every time I have to stand up or sit down, there’s that constant reminder.”

“Was it really sooo bad?”

Justin smiled and shook his head. “No. But I still don’t think it’s fair.”

They didn’t mention it again for several days. The following Monday Brian pulled Justin to him while they were both still wet from the shower, and when Justin saw the plug again he shook his head. “Nope. Not until you do it.”

“Think I couldn’t handle it?”

Justin smirked, and Brian realized what he’d just offered. Brian was sitting on the edge of the bed, Justin standing between his knees. “I’d like to see you try.”

Brian shook his head and scoffed, and Justin shrugged. “Fine. We can throw it out. If you’re never going to do it, I’m not going to wear it again either.”

Brian looked at the rather intimidating textured rubber plug and then back at Justin. His eyes were narrowed, his arms crossed. He wasn’t kidding. Saying nothing else, Brian rolled onto his stomach. “I’d hate for you to miss such pleasure and then call me selfish.”

Justin laughed.


He’s pretending this is for me… it’s completely about him. He loves to plug me and leave me desperate all day…okay, I love it too. There’s something unspeakably pornographic about having a physical reminder of him inside me all day; it makes meetings with agents, gallery owners, and people who are thinking of commissioning a piece far more interesting. It’s not that I don’t love to create. I do. I just hate dealing with people. I want to create, full stop… but some days are spent almost entirely in meetings and those days…well, they’re more fun when sitting, standing, moving, reminds me of him, of us.

And now he says he’s willing to make the great sacrifice. I might have bought it once, but his aversion to getting fucked is nothing more than a myth, and right now, the way he’s moving against the sheets waiting for me… it’s very clear that he’s more than a little interested in what comes next.

I take a step closer to him, and lick the damp spot where the shower water has pooled in the small of his back. He lets out a soft sound and I smile, moving my tongue lower. I let it run down the crack of his ass. I don’t push it between his cheeks, and he pushes up a little and says my name in a way guaranteed to make me want this to take forever. I really love watching him like this. He’s direct about getting what he wants in bed no matter what he wants, and right now… he wants my tongue up his ass. I can oblige.

He’s muttering directions, which he knows pisses me off. Hello, what am I, new at this? But I guess it says something that he’s no longer the stealth fuck he used to be. Afraid that any noise would declare the other player the winner. Yeah, it’s not that he’s lost his edge, but a competitive edge in bed is only fun for so long, you know?

I flick my tongue over his hole, and he pulls his cheeks apart for me. I make my tongue hard and sharp, and when it’s inside him, he pushes back against my face. I keep licking and sucking until he’s dripping with my spit. I blow lightly and watch as it contracts and expands again. When I pop the lube top his knees spread. I only use one finger, teasing him, the same way he does to me. And when he’s wet and ready, I push the head of the plug against his hole and watch in fascination as it closes itself protectively and then spreads open, letting me slide it in, just a few millimeters. He tries to push into it, but I press my palm against his ass preventing that. He’s not running this show.

I go slowly, watching him struggle with his desire to knock my hand out of the way and do it himself. I spin it a couple of times as I work it into him and he groans when the widest part stretches him and I stop, leaving him like that for almost a full minute. Letting him feel this. When it’s finally inside him, the base the only visible part, I kiss his ass cheek and push on his hip. He rolls over. He’s hard and I should let him stay that way, let him jerk himself off, but I can’t resist. I lick the head of his cock and taste him, salty and perfect.

I run my lips down his cock as I take him inside my mouth, and when the head hits the back of my throat, I angle better and let him in, swallowing around him and watching as each movement of my throat and tongue make his stomach muscles contract.

He’s close, and I know what will send him over the edge. I tap on the base of the plug while I suck hard on his cock. He screams my name and comes down my throat. I swallow most of it and when I move up his body to kiss him, I feed his own come to him. He groans and runs his hands through my hair, sliding them down my shoulders. I grip his biceps and wonder if we shouldn’t just cancel whatever appointments we have for the day and stay in. He seems to be thinking the same thing, but even as I’m lying there, I feel the familiar need to get to the studio. I kiss him again and his arms wrap around me. I lean back and shake my head. “We both have work to do.”

He nods, and I pull on a pair of paint-spattered jeans and one of his old shirts. He knocks on the studio door before he leaves. He looks impeccable, he always does. Knowing what’s waiting for me underneath that perfect gunmetal gray suit is distracting. I smile and move towards him. He shakes his head. “You’re covered in paint. Don’t touch me.”

He turns to leave, and I pat his ass and hear the small soft groan that I don’t think he wanted me to hear. I turn the radio up and focus on my painting.


I don’t know why I agreed to this. I’m sitting at my desk, trying to concentrate on the spreadsheet on my computer, but I need to compare it to a printed list of projections, and that list is on the other side of the desk. I reach for it. Trying not to move too much. It doesn’t work. I feel the plug inside me. I feel my cock get hard again, and I curse Justin, and my own pride, and the idiot who put the other papers I need waaay on the other side of the office. I almost groan as I stand up. It’s only ten and there’s no way I’m doing this all day. I have a meeting at eleven and I figure I should take it out before then.

The intercom buzzes and I’m informed that Justin is on the phone. I almost don’t take the call. Little fucker. This is all his fault.



His voice sounds chipper and I’m considering strangling him.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, I just called to see how you were.”

“I’m fine, perfect, why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason. I really just wanted to hear your voice. I got horny.”

“You did?”

“Mmm hmmm…. So I thought, you know, I wanted to hear your voice while I jerked off.”

His voice is breathy, and I picture him on the bed, his hand glistening with lube, stroking himself slowly. “Cut it out.”

“Can’t stop. Too close.”

“You’re evil.”

I can fucking hear him smile. “Not evil. Is there anyone there with you?”


“So join me.”

“I have work to do.”

“Sheesh, what’s up your ass?” I hear him gasp as he comes, and laughs like a loon at his little joke. What the hell do I see in him again? He recovers after a minute, and he’s damn lucky I didn’t hang up on him. “Brian.”


“Don’t take it out, okay? Just wear it today. For me. Promise?”

“You’re a twat.”


“Yes dear.”

“Is that an actual promise?”

“Justin. I promised. Now go finish your painting, or take a nap, or whatever.”

“I promise I’ll make you a lot less grumpy when I see you.”

I hang up. No shit he’s going to make me less grumpy. I stand up slowly and get the other files I need and then head to the bathroom. If I’m wearing it all day… I need a little relief before the meeting.

The client was thrilled with my ideas. They signed on the dotted line and I got back to working on another campaign that needed some serious attention. I’m thinking that if I work through lunch I can get out of here early, be home by eight, nine at the latest.

I’m buried up to my neck in bad preliminary layouts when Justin walks in, all smiles. I growl at him but he ignores it, and puts the takeout container directly on top of the board I was marking.


“It was crap, I didn’t ruin anything important.”

He’s right so I let it go, and eye the styrofoam suspiciously.

“It’s just a Greek salad, it won’t kill you.”

I open the container and look closely. Greek salad, no onions, dressing on the side. I’m remembering why I keep him around, but then I move to take a fork out of the bag and remember why I’m thinking he’s a twat. He must see my expression, because he laughs.

“Fuck you.”

He takes a bite of his own salad, and then stands up and nods. “Better idea than lunch.”

I push him back towards the sofa, and he leans forward to kiss me. I let my hands fall to his waist and guide him, turning him around 'til his ass is pressed against my cock. I’ve been hard all day; I’m so ready to fuck him I can’t think of anything else.

As we approach the sofa he bucks backwards against me. Then he turns and pushes me back so that I fall, landing sprawled across the white leather, one foot on the floor. He lies on top of me, settling his hips between my thighs.

We kiss, and I’m remembering the whole thing about keeping him around. His hands are working my belt and fly, and I remember something else. I couldn’t get rid of him if I wanted to. He won’t leave. I say a little prayer of thanks for that as my head falls back and my eyes close. His mouth is working my cock through my underwear. It’s already damp, and his hot breath through the cotton make me squirm a little. I smile as he tugs at the elastic and when my underwear and pants are, I’m sure, thrown in a heap somewhere, his mouth is on me again.

I grip his shoulders, pulling a little. I want to fuck him. I feel him shake his head as it rests between my naked thighs and I let my eyes stay closed and wait. I buck a little as he twists the base of the plug.

“How many times have you jerked off?”

I decide not to answer him, but he pulls away from me. His hand slides under my shirt, his thumb rubbing my nipple. Then he takes it between his index finger and thumb and twists a little. I laugh as I move to pull away from him. “Brian, how many times.”

I pull him towards my mouth. “Three.” I kiss him.

He pulls back from the kiss, smiling. “It’s only one in the afternoon.”

I raise an eyebrow, and he lets his body slide back down mine. I don’t close my eyes this time. Instead I watch as he licks along the underside of my cock while he drops his jeans. “Do you want me to take it out?”

He’s murmuring it against my shaft, and the vibrations make it feel like he’s speaking from inside my body. I moan and nod. He sucks hard on the head of my cock and then grasps the base and pulls. I arch towards him, my body following the movements of the plug and shaking a little. He splays a hand against my thigh, holding me down while he lets the girth stretch me open. “You look so hot like this.”

He says it quietly while his face is buried in my groin. “I love how slutty you can be when you’re getting what you want.” I decide to let the comment go. He’s as much a slut as I am, and it’s a little late now for protestations about not wanting this. I feel the cool lube on my balls, and it flows over the plug. He slides it in again and then pulls it almost all the way out. His body is the only thing holding me to the sofa, or I’d be almost completely off of it… the image of him leading me around the office by the base of that thing makes me laugh, and as I do he pulls it out completely. I moan and then grunt even more loudly as he quickly replaces it with his cock.

I open my eyes and he pushes into me while his hands hold my ass and his mouth covers mine.

I press my tongue into his mouth and he sucks on it. I feel him moaning around it as he rocks into me and then back out again. He moves my leg, draping it over the back of he sofa as he pushes in even deeper. I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this. Being fucked is one thing, and not something that is entirely unpleasant, but raw, feeling the pronounced ridge of the head of his cock as my body closes around it. Feeling the difference in texture, and heat of the skin of his thighs compared to the velvet hot flesh that’s currently fucking the shit out of me, it’s… intimate. And if getting fucked raw by a guy makes me a dyke then so be it… I’m about to come.

He feels it too, and moves his mouth over mine again. I hear something, far away, and choose to ignore it as I wrap my legs around his torso and roll back until he’s so deep into me I swear I can feel it in every nerve ending.

When he comes I do, too, his hand stroking me to completion.

We stay like that for a couple of minutes, sticky, messy, together. “I won’t put it back in.”

I don’t say anything. I’m not sure what to say.

“And don’t kill Ted. I’m the one who forgot to lock the door.”

My eyes open fully, and I take a moment to assess our position – and then I can’t do anything but laugh.

We take full advantage of my executive shower, and as he’s leaving he tucks the plug into the pocket of his jacket and smiles at me.

I grin, and then focus on the spreadsheets and the salad that’s still on my desk.



“Maybe you should tell Ted to stay the fuck away from me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Brian, I’m sure they’ve assumed before this.”

I look back at the computer and ignore him, trying to convince myself they haven’t. Knowing they have.

When Ted does come in later to get something signed, he says nothing. Smart man. I remember why I keep him around too
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