(A writing exercise)
by Mickey M.
© October 2002
"Roll over now." JC grunted when Chris pushed
against his ribs.
"Ow, Chris!"
"Then roll, dude. I'll make it worth your
while."
"Yeah, yeah." But he rolled anyway, shifting
over onto his stomach.
The mattress was firm beneath him, and the pressure felt
good against his semi-hard cock. He wiggled against it until he found a
comfortable position, then relaxed, breathing in and out slowly. He expected to
feel Chris' hands on him, maybe massaging his back or shoulders; instead warm
fingers pressed into the groove of his spine and were dragged downward. It was
just enough pressure to make him feel each fingertip, but not enough to hurt.
JC arched upward against the pressure, letting loose with a low groan.
He shivered when Chris chuckled above him, and had just
enough time to wonder about the dark note he heard, when warm hands cupped the
backs of his thighs and pushed. Pressed him forward, urging him upward. He
shifted again, trying to push up onto all fours, and found Chris' hands guiding
him back, one hand pressing down on his shoulder.
"Just your ass, C. Yeah, like that. God." He
heard the lust in Chris' voice and smiled, his smile turning to a shaky grin
when those hands cupped and rubbed, kneading his cheeks, pulling them apart,
dipping fingers down into the crevice between. "Fucking sexy, man."
"You're--biased."
"Probably." Warm breath against his ass, moist
heat that warmed him everywhere it touched. JC moaned softly when Chris
breathed out and rubbed his cheek against smooth skin; the rasp of whiskers
contrasted oddly, sharp little prickles sending sensation zinging through him.
He wasn't just half-hard any more.
"Somebody likes this," Chris chuckled, the words
muffled slightly against JC's skin. He quivered when Chris reached between his legs,
stroked his cock now hanging hard and full, suspended in the air away from the
lovely pressure of the mattress. He whimpered when warm fingers closed over him
and stroked, pulling slowly from root to tip. "Good?"
"Uhhuh." Was he supposed to actually form words?
Chris stroked again, rubbed his cheek over JC's ass, and the visual in his mind
exploded into technicolor: him laid out like a feast, ass open wide, cock
hanging hard and ready. Chris behind
him, touching, feeling, tasting--
Oh, GOD. Tasting. He was tasting--he. Oh. Oh.
Tongue.
Chris' tongue. Teasing over hot skin, licking slowly,
leaving damp trails up and down the swell of his ass.
"Please," he heard himself whimper, voice hardly
more than a squeak. "Chris--"
"Mmm." And then there was more. Wet heat
trailing down the crack between his cheeks, leaving a slick path in its wake.
Softsmoothwet teasing over the small, straining muscle, working at it, poking
and prodding.
JC gasped and rocked backward, pushed his ass toward the
slickness, groaning when Chris' hands tightened on his hips, his ass, holding
him open wider. He heard his voice, heard the sounds he made low in his throat,
rough keening noises of pleasure that grew in volume and range when teeth
nipped at him, pinching tender skin before wet heat soothed the sting.
Heat grew inside him, pulsing through him with each slow
stroke over his ass. He shivered
violently when Chris pressed him open even wider, tongue burrowing deep inside,
slicking him up, wetting him down. It was so good, too much, he had rainbow
streaks of red and orange and yellow exploding inside him, all the different
colors that made up heat, made up fire. Fire raged in his cock, his ass,
branching out into his veins, filling him champagne bubbles that burst behind
his eyelids.
"Oh. Oh, fuck. Oh--" He wiggled and rocked,
trying to get closer, to be impaled deeper, to feel that slippery slide even
deeper within him. It expanded like a bubble, the sensation thin and tense,
until it couldn't be sustained any longer, and when Chris let go with one hand
to stroke his cock quickly, roughly, JC growled out something that could've
been words, or just random sounds, and came hard, body shuddering and bucking,
pushing down, rocking up, sticky heat flowing over Chris' fingers and
spattering against JC's belly.
~fin~