I remember dragging him to the bedroom, but the details are lost in the litany of filth, each word going straight to my dick. "I want to put my tongue in you," he was saying. "I want to spread you apart and hold you down and lick you once, just once, so you know what's coming. And then I want to bite you on the ass, make a mark, suck a hickey into the top of your thigh before I go back to rimming you. I want to lick you until you're whimpering, and then I want to stick my tongue inside you, fuck you with it until my face is sore, and then keep on going until you're hoarse from yelling. And I want you to blow me, I want you to let me grab your hair and hold your head still. I want to put you on the floor and making kneel at my feet while I fuck your face, I want to feel your throat around my cock, stars and stones, John, I want you to smack my ass until I come just from the feeling of you whaling on me. I want you to do it with a paddle."
I shoved him against the edge of the bed and he fell, fully dressed. "Pick one," I grated. Now, ridiculously, he was silent. He stared at me, pupils blown. "God dammit, pick just one, one thing we can do now. Pick now."
Yeah. Apparently my patience was not at top form.
"Oh," he said. And then, comprehension coming to him as slowly as always, "...oh. Okay. One, right. I want to blow you --"
I cut him off. "Not that." The look on his face was priceless. To be fair, how often did somebody turn down a blow job? "No blow jobs, no gags. Nothing that stops you from talking."
His eyes widened, but he didn't pause for long. "Then the other. Suck me. Put your mouth on me."
I was on my knees almost as soon as the request was made, and I reached up to undo his jeans, but he stopped me with his words.
"Not yet," he said. "Tease me. Put your mouth against my thigh, on the inseam. Kiss me, bite me. Blow through the denim."
It took a beat before I obeyed, not because I didn't want to. Instead I was floored by lust, like a shot to the lungs that knocked the breath from my body. When I could, I leaned forward, put his words to action.
"Hold me down, spread my legs," he said, and I pressed my hands against the insides of his knees and splayed his ridiculously long legs apart. "Yeah, like that, keep me off balance, don't let me get up, don't let me take control, stars, take my pants the hell off right now."
I didn't, not right away. If he wanted teasing, it was going to last a little bit longer. I breathed against the zipper of his jeans, rubbing my cheek against the hard line of his cock. He tried to press his thighs inward, perhaps to stop me, but I shoved hard against his knees, keeping him off balance. His instructions had reverted to a breathy stream of dammit, John, dammit, undress me before I finally gave in. "Lift up your bony ass," I said, interrupting him, as I pulled down his jeans.
He laughed, obeyed, and continued talking without pause. "Lick me. Lick up the vein, around the base. I want to feel your tongue, I want to feel your tongue under my foreskin, on the head. Lick the slit, lick behind my balls."
Dresden as a lollipop? I could live with that. I obeyed him, now doing only what he told me and no more. Let Harry have the creativity for once.
Apparently he was up to the challenge. "My balls, John. Suck on them, both of them. Rub my cock while you do. Yeah, keep doing that. Play with the foreskin with your thumb, squeeze harder." He thrust up into my hand. "Put your mouth on me, around my cock."
About damned time. I took advantage of the brief moment of having both of my hands free to unzip my own trousers and shove them down around my hips; I couldn't bear to have them on any longer. I almost got my own cock in hand but Harry had more instructions before I got a chance.
"My nipples," he almost whined. "Play with them." It was hard to reach them -- Harry was sprawled, lying mostly down against my comforter, and the man was a long drink of water. But I was sufficiently motivated. I could feel the stretch and burn in my shoulders, but that only ratcheted me higher, like Harry was restraining me with his words, like he'd built a rack out of language and had me strung on it.
Harry was struggling for words. His hips were trembling, tiny thrusts into my mouth and out again, his balls drawn up against my chin, and his breaths were coming short and loud. He should have been beyond anything other than moaning, but it sounded like the words were forcing themselves passed his lips. I obeyed each of his increasingly hoarse commands, the sound of his voice all that was touching me, all that needed to.
"Twist my nipples, harder. Use your nails, pinch. Hold down my hips -- no, with your forearm, press harder, don't let me move, bruise me. Put your finger in my ass, two fingers. I don't care that there's no lube, use freaking spit, just get them in there, do it, do it. Hold me down, suck me down, John, hold me, John, John --!"
His desperate wail somehow still consisted of coherent words, but I couldn't make them out. I swallowed him down, waited until he stopped shivering, and then lunged up from the floor onto his supine form, thrusting against him until I came.
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timeasmymeasure
Chatty pollen 4/5
Date: 2011-03-09 04:15 am (UTC)I shoved him against the edge of the bed and he fell, fully dressed. "Pick one," I grated. Now, ridiculously, he was silent. He stared at me, pupils blown. "God dammit, pick just one, one thing we can do now. Pick now."
Yeah. Apparently my patience was not at top form.
"Oh," he said. And then, comprehension coming to him as slowly as always, "...oh. Okay. One, right. I want to blow you --"
I cut him off. "Not that." The look on his face was priceless. To be fair, how often did somebody turn down a blow job? "No blow jobs, no gags. Nothing that stops you from talking."
His eyes widened, but he didn't pause for long. "Then the other. Suck me. Put your mouth on me."
I was on my knees almost as soon as the request was made, and I reached up to undo his jeans, but he stopped me with his words.
"Not yet," he said. "Tease me. Put your mouth against my thigh, on the inseam. Kiss me, bite me. Blow through the denim."
It took a beat before I obeyed, not because I didn't want to. Instead I was floored by lust, like a shot to the lungs that knocked the breath from my body. When I could, I leaned forward, put his words to action.
"Hold me down, spread my legs," he said, and I pressed my hands against the insides of his knees and splayed his ridiculously long legs apart. "Yeah, like that, keep me off balance, don't let me get up, don't let me take control, stars, take my pants the hell off right now."
I didn't, not right away. If he wanted teasing, it was going to last a little bit longer. I breathed against the zipper of his jeans, rubbing my cheek against the hard line of his cock. He tried to press his thighs inward, perhaps to stop me, but I shoved hard against his knees, keeping him off balance. His instructions had reverted to a breathy stream of dammit, John, dammit, undress me before I finally gave in. "Lift up your bony ass," I said, interrupting him, as I pulled down his jeans.
He laughed, obeyed, and continued talking without pause. "Lick me. Lick up the vein, around the base. I want to feel your tongue, I want to feel your tongue under my foreskin, on the head. Lick the slit, lick behind my balls."
Dresden as a lollipop? I could live with that. I obeyed him, now doing only what he told me and no more. Let Harry have the creativity for once.
Apparently he was up to the challenge. "My balls, John. Suck on them, both of them. Rub my cock while you do. Yeah, keep doing that. Play with the foreskin with your thumb, squeeze harder." He thrust up into my hand. "Put your mouth on me, around my cock."
About damned time. I took advantage of the brief moment of having both of my hands free to unzip my own trousers and shove them down around my hips; I couldn't bear to have them on any longer. I almost got my own cock in hand but Harry had more instructions before I got a chance.
"My nipples," he almost whined. "Play with them." It was hard to reach them -- Harry was sprawled, lying mostly down against my comforter, and the man was a long drink of water. But I was sufficiently motivated. I could feel the stretch and burn in my shoulders, but that only ratcheted me higher, like Harry was restraining me with his words, like he'd built a rack out of language and had me strung on it.
Harry was struggling for words. His hips were trembling, tiny thrusts into my mouth and out again, his balls drawn up against my chin, and his breaths were coming short and loud. He should have been beyond anything other than moaning, but it sounded like the words were forcing themselves passed his lips. I obeyed each of his increasingly hoarse commands, the sound of his voice all that was touching me, all that needed to.
"Twist my nipples, harder. Use your nails, pinch. Hold down my hips -- no, with your forearm, press harder, don't let me move, bruise me. Put your finger in my ass, two fingers. I don't care that there's no lube, use freaking spit, just get them in there, do it, do it. Hold me down, suck me down, John, hold me, John, John --!"
His desperate wail somehow still consisted of coherent words, but I couldn't make them out. I swallowed him down, waited until he stopped shivering, and then lunged up from the floor onto his supine form, thrusting against him until I came.
Re: Chatty pollen 4/5
Date: 2011-03-09 08:58 am (UTC)Uh.
If anyone needs me, I'll be unavailable for a bit. ^.^
OP Re: Chatty pollen 4/5
Date: 2011-03-10 12:40 am (UTC)