xie_xie_xie (xie_xie_xie) wrote in qaf_challenges, @ 2007-11-17 00:35:00 |
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He's so weird when he's like this. I kind of love it, but it's late and I'm tired and we've already had sex three times today and he has nowhere special to be tomorrow. I, on the other hand, have an early shift at the diner, but he just doesn't care. His lips are on my nipples, and they've been there for the last twenty minutes. His hands are… everywhere... and they've been there since, well, since I met him.
He's still a little stoned, okay, still a lot stoned. Chivas Regal and E are a deadly combination with him, makes him mellow and happy and completely focused. Two weeks ago I drove to seven different places until we found Bertoni's whole grain low carb something or other. He ate two bites and then was all over me and we fucked until we both passed out.
Tonight it started when we were dancing. He kept talking about my hands and my neck. Okay, you know, I've got good hands and if he were any more obsessed with my neck I'd have to seriously consider him vampiric, but it didn't stop. His fascination, his glowing recollections of things they've done, (my hands; my neck mostly just holds my head up), how they look under certain lights. It was already getting kind of late so I took my oh-so-perfect hands and my "flawlessly skinned, graceful and mesmerizing" neck towards the door. He, of course, followed.
I drove home, because we don't want to risk that pretty little neck of mine, or his, really. By the way, his hands are two of my favorite hands on the planet and his neck… the most lickable one I've ever come across.
I was hoping to get to the sex quickly, because while he was busy describing my hands and neck, he was also grinding against me, buying me shots, and feeding me about half as much E as he took, which means I want him, inside me, now.
But instead he climbed on top of me, fully dressed, and started peeling my clothes off. Slowly… really really slowly. I tried to speed him up, because, well, the whole his-cock-inside-my-ass-equals-good thing, but he just shook his head, tsk'd at me and called me impatient, zealous and appetent. He's quite articulate when he's like this. So he made it clear that the process was going to take as long as he decided he needed to properly and appropriately appreciate each new part of my body that he uncovered.
He wasn't kidding. His mouth followed his fingers. His smile, that slightly crooked one that means that he's beyond rational thought, just sort of glowed and never wavered once. He was just as delighted with the inside of my elbow as he was with the small spot where my hips officially begin… again, this is according to him. I swear, I thought he was going to get a pen and mark the spot. I guess I should feel lucky he's not in the mood for a tattoo, I'm pretty sure this was the mood he was in when he got the one on his upper thigh. But I can just picture myself with dotted lines like the pictures of cows in a butcher shop, differentiating my hips from my flanks from my thighs from… ooh… his mouth has moved on from my nipples. He's sort of sucking right where he can feel each rib bone.
I try to move under him, hoping not to end this sooner but to get him to my cock, because… because I want him to touch my cock, okay? Is that so wrong?
But he's strong, even when he's deliriously infatuated with the way my skin turns pink as he sucks at it. The way it gets white and then red if he pushes on the spot he just sucked. I'm wondering if anyone ever let him play with dolls when he was a kid, and thinking maybe they should have. But he doesn't have to. He has me. The living breathing, walking, talking, and fucking…god willing, subject of his… yeah, I think obsession really is the right word.
He's at my knee now. Great, he's not working in any particular order. He's playing with the knob of bone there. I think he's trying to see if he can slide it off my knee. Um, he can't; it is my knee. So I bend it a little, and yay, it worked, he's distracted by the way it bends. Wow, my physical therapist was never as thorough with my fingers as Brian's being with my knee. He's running his fingers along the tendons behind it, and I get chills up one side of my body. Only one side. It's really odd to have goose bumps on only one of your testicles. I shudder a little and that makes him look at my face and his smile widens. Oh shit.
He's leaning over me now, and his fingers are tracing my lips. "Smile."
I do, and if he were a serial killer this would be creepy, but it's just Brian and he's always had a thing for my lips, and my smile, and as much as I want him to fuck me and soon, there's something strangely erotic and very comforting about this. Maybe it's just nice to know that the infatuation I had with his body, still do, is reciprocated even when he's not just trying to get me to bend over. Or maybe it's just because I know he'll never say he loves me, but what is love if it isn't the need, and this is need, to lick along the line of my lips and taste the tip of my tongue?
So I sigh and I let myself relax into the mattress while he climbs all over me in this almost feline way he has of moving, especially when he's trying to balance his weight and not crush me. He's gotten very very good at it. I imagine he'd have to; he's tall, and he likes to be on top.
So now his fingers are tracing my eyebrows. I raise them for him and that sort of delights him. I'd be more worried if his cock weren't leaking against his belly. He'll remember soon enough that one of his favorite things about my body is my ass. I'm not concerned except… oh shit, he's running his fingers through my hair, sort of examining it from root to tip. One of his favorite things about my body is my ass, but my hair comes a close second. It's really splitting hairs which he loves more, ha, splitting hairs, get it? Christ, I'm wasted.
So he's running his fingers through my hair, which is really long and if he chooses to go through each hair on my head I think I might need to grab a dildo or just jerk off.
He's got his knees on either side of my head now and that's good, I can use that. As he's bent over examining my hair follicles, I reach for his cock and guide the head into my mouth. His hands tighten in my hair and his body shifts; he's remembering what all this analysis is about. Good.
I take him fully into my mouth. I hear him moaning and then he pulls out, quickly. I look up, confused but he slides his body along mine 'til he's grinding his cock between my thighs and whispering in my ear. "I want to be inside you."
I don't roll my eyes. I should, I don't. "You were."
He flicks me in the head. What the fuck? So much for being enamored of my iridescent skin. But then he's kissing the spot and his hands are on either side of my head and he's so wasted that I'm going to have to drive in about T minus ten seconds. He's muttering my name against my forehead, which is sweet, really, but I'm grinding my cock against his hip and I'd very much like to get fucked right about now. I reach for a condom and the lube but his hand meets mine and he pulls it to him, kissing my fingertips. Shit, if we're back to my fingers and hands then we could be starting all over. Does everyone with a commitment-phobic non-conventional non-defined boyfriend have to deal with endless hours of foreplay? Honestly, if someone asked me right now, I'd say, "Yes, I want Brian to say he loves me. I'd get laid faster."
And they say he didn't teach me anything about romance. Pfft.
But he's not starting over. He's kissing the inside of my wrist, which he knows gets me. Well, he usually knows it, not sure how aware he is right now. But then he's kissing my shoulder, and rolling me over, and I think we're getting somewhere. His mouth is between my shoulder blades, which is a very good start. He's mumbling about what I taste like. He's smoothing his hands down my torso, and now they're on my ass.
His mouth ignores the rest of my back. He's like a homing pigeon, sheer instinct. He's spreading my cheeks with his thumbs and licking at my hole. I pull up on my knees and his tongue is inside me. I feel him pull away and I'm afraid he's going to become so mesmerized by how it looks, dripping with his spit, that he'll forget to actually fuck me. But he grabs a condom from the bowl, and now things are right with the world. He presses his cock into me and I grunt. He's on top of me now, flattening me against the mattress, pressing me down from the inside and the outside.
"You feel so good, so hot. Tight little fucker. You've got a perfect neck, superb fingers, and a flawless ass. There's nothing about you that isn't pulchritudinous."
Huh? Okay, I kinda want to write that one down and find out what it means later. Where the fuck does he come up with this shit?
He's waxing poetic about my hair and my shoulders and that's all just pulchritudinous except that's for after. Now is when he rams me into the sheets, risking the warranty on his bazillion dollar mattress.
So I tell him so.
He laughs. "You want me to fuck you."
He's sing-songing it.
"Um, yes please."
"Anything for you."
So all I had to do was ask? Okay, good to know.
He pulls up and his hands are on my hips. I rise up on my knees and his torso is pressed against my back. He's slamming into me hard. His fingers, warm and strong, wrap around my cock, and even after I come he doesn't stop. He keeps fucking me until I'm hard again. After he comes, he pulls out and rolls me over, sucking me off. My fingers in his hair, my mouth open. He swallows and I sigh, shooting into his mouth. He crawls up and flops onto his back. His smile is a little less crooked and a little more subdued. He lights a cigarette and I rest my head on his chest and let my hand run over his skin.
Have I ever talked about his skin? It's soft, and rough in all the right places. It's like stretched warm velvet over steel, especially the inside of his thighs, and the soft spot just behind his balls. And his chest. I love how much he works out but how he manages not to look like a steroid case. And the muscles in his back, the way they flex and move, sometimes I just can't take my eyes off of him, oh and his ankles. I know it's not an obvious thing to find sexy but his ankles…