Picture Perfect

By Mickey M.
© December 1997

I tossed my mail, bookbag, and jacket on my desk and pulled my clothes off as fast as I could undo the buttons with half-frozen fingers. Man, I was freezing to death, and even though I knew that I could warm up just by looking through what was in the mail, I wanted to do this right. Shower first; warm up, relax, get comfy. I didn't get many days to myself here at home, without worrying about Jim coming in unexpectedly; I was going to make the most of this one.

The hot water felt good running over my frozen body; by the time the first cool drops started mixing with the hot, I was warm and relaxed and feeling pretty good. I dried off and headed back to my room wrapped in a towel, which I quickly tossed to the floor when I climbed onto my bed. I reached over to my desk and retrieved the discretely wrapped package--hopefully my salvation against wayward thoughts about my partner.

See, Jim would probably freak if he knew what role he played in most of my fantasies of late. Hell, *I* freaked, and they were *my* fantasies. I don't guess that, until the night I jerked off to thoughts of Jim going down on me, then begging me to fuck him, that I'd realized just how deep those thoughts of mine had gotten. I knew I had a crush on the guy; who in their right mind wouldn't? Tall, buff, built, and packing a large load, from my subtle observations. Factor into that eyes so clear and blue that they could mesmerize me·and a depth of character that still blows me away….Yeah, major crush there. Apparently, at some point, the crush had turned to other things.

So, true to form, I didn't say anything. What the hell do you say when the object of your dreams, desires, fantasies is straight? And a cop to boot? Huh? Right. Nothing. Instead, I found an add for a magazine one night, while I was surfing the 'net, titled "Tradesmen", promising pictures that ranged from model-type shots to hard-core porn stuff. Now, I'm not so interested in the porn, but some really good pictures might help to get the images of Jim out of my head. Or so I was hoping when I ordered the magazine. I had it sent to a friend's place, 'cause how in the hell would I have explained it, if Jim intercepted the mail first?

I laid the magazine next to me on the bed and ran my hands down my body, re-familiarizing myself with myself. It'd been a while since I'd had time to do more than just beat off, and I wanted to make this good. My nipples contracted, tightening and puckering, when I ran my fingertips across and over them. I raised one hand and licked the fingers, then began circling my nipple with the moisture. A jolt of electricity ran through me when the little nub tightened, creating a hard little point. I repeated the gesture on the other one, then plucked at both tips, rolling them between my fingers. It felt good to touch myself again, to take pleasure from my own body. Jim's face swam into view and I pushed it away determinedly. I wasn't going to use him like that, this time.

I wet my fingers again and stroked my nipples some more, imagining a phantom lover caressing me. God, I wished I had someone there to suck me…Jim's mouth would-- Nope. Okay, it was time. I shifted over onto my side, still running my fingers across my tits, but ignoring for now my cock, which had started to fill the minute I envisioned Jim. I opened the magazine up and began to page through it, idly stroking up and down my body.

God, there were some gorgeous men in here. Some really hot photos, some solos, some with partners; all mouth-watering. My hand drifted down to my cock and started stroking languidly; I was enjoying the little bursts of heat radiating outward through my body, but wasn't ready to up the ante yet.

Then I turned the page again, and the breath was sucked right out of my lungs in shock, surprise, and absolute lust.

It was Jim. *MY* Jim. There, on the pages of this magazine--a *gay* magazine, for Christ's sake--was Jim Ellison, straight cop.

Okay, Blair--time to re-evaluate your opinions on Ellison's sexual orientation. Or at the very least on his feelings about it.

I scanned the spread--only a few pages, but Jesus, what pages! In the first photo he was kneeling, kind of, with his legs spread slightly, and one pulled up. He almost looked like he was doing pushups. Almost. His back was arched, showing off the most gorgeous ass I've ever seen. The was just a hint of his balls hanging down, and the cleft in between the cheeks was dark and shadowy. I bet it tasted as good as it looked, and the sudden raw hunger in me nearly overwhelmed me. I stared at that picture, imagining me behind him, pushing his knees up under him, raising that ass a little…spreading those luscious, muscular cheeks apart and licking that cleft and tonguing his hole until he was begging for it. My cock surged at the thought, throbbing heavily against my belly as it finished engorging.

The next picture was of him, pants pushed down below his knees, leaning against a wall. He even had shades on…as if I wouldn't know him anywhere. My eyes caressed the picture, taking in the muscled torso, the well-padded ass…I heard a low, breathy moan and realized it was coming from me. My free hand stroked against my cock a little harder, the pulsing underneath my palm and fingers keeping time with my heart, which was going like a run-away train.

There was one more that nearly killed me. Jim, on his side, one leg up, the other straight out. His semi-erect dick shadowed by the curly pubic hair and the positioning of his legs. Chest tight, hard, ripped. Small brown nipples, peaked, even in the picture. I circled one with the tip of my finger, my brain envisioning the real thing beneath me. How would he feel? Taste? Smell? I traced my finger down the picture, stroking the cock while I stroked my own, picking up a rhythm.

Then the hunger in me was too much. I rolled onto my back and pumped myself hard and fast, my mind forming images of Jim shoving my legs up over his shoulders and thrusting into me; of myself thrusting into him; taking that gorgeous cock in my mouth and sucking him until he came, screaming; of him taking my mouth with his own, those narrow, sensual lips plundering me for everything I held secret from him. He'd be good with his tongue, licking and sucking; he'd mark me. Own me. Fill me up until nothing and no one else existed outside the two of us--

I've never come so hard in my life by my own hand.

I lay there, shaking with the after-effects of my orgasm and the revelation of Jim posing nude for a gay mag, trying to figure out what to do with this information. Just because he had the photo shoot done didn't mean he'd want the attentions of a slightly nerdy anthro student who just happened to be majorly in love and lust with him. I sighed and rolled over, deciding that a nap couldn't hurt and might help. It was just after two--plenty of time before Jim got home.

********

A noise woke me--the door opening. Oh, shit. And here I was, lying naked on my bed, dried cum all over my stomach and chest, absolutely *reeking* of sex, even if it was solo.

"Blair?"

"Be right out, Jim." Shitshitshit. Now what? Okay, be cool. After all, its not like Jim's never masturbated, right? I pulled my robe on and walked out. "Hey, you're home early."

He tossed his keys onto the table by the door. "Slow day." He eyed me up and down, taking in, I'm sure, the rumpled hair and smelling the semen on me. "You?"

"Water main broke on campus this morning. Everything was canceled for today. I was, uh, taking a nap."

"Uh-huh." He gave me another strange look, then shrugged. "How about we go out and get something to eat?"

"I was planning on cooking--it's still early yet."

"I know, but it's been a weird day. C'mon, Chief. My treat. You go, ah, get cleaned up and we'll head out."

"Um, sure. Yeah. I'm just gonna--I'm gonna take a shower." Way to go, Sandburg. Stutter all over the place, as if you've never jerked off before. Well, not and faced him with the results dried on my stomach, knowing he could smell it--smell me. My stomach jerked in response to *that* thought, and I hurried down the hall to the bathroom.

I was standing in the shower, soaping up when I realized that the magazine was still lying on my bed, in full view for anyone who looked in there to see. Well, hopefully the gods would smile benevolently on me, and I could stash it before he saw it.

I knew the minute I walked out of the bathroom that my guardian angel was on vacation and the gods hated me for some reason.

Jim was standing there, beside the couch, holding the magazine in his hands, looking at it. "So this is how they turned out," he remarked casually, as if he did this, and I read this, every day. "I saw the proofs, you know…but wasn't sure…"

I stopped a few feet from him. "Why?" I couldn't articulate beyond that. I wasn't even sure what I was asking him.

He seemed to know anyway. "I used to do--stuff like this before, when I needed the money. Sometimes, during college. Once while I was in Vice, as part of an assignment. I got to be good friends with the editor of the magazine, Charles Trade, and he called a few months ago, asking if I could fill in. He…had someone else lined up, but they backed out at the last minute." He raised his head and met my eyes and his looked *old* all of a sudden. "I didn't realize you read…this sort of thing…or I'd have probably told him no."

My mouth was dry and I swallowed, trying to get things to work. "I don't, normally. Read them, I mean. I just--this was…Shit." Another pause, during which I'm sure my heart sounded to him like a force-four tornado roaring. "Um…why didn't you want me to know?"

"That I posed for a gay magazine?" He snorted. "Not quite in keeping with the image, is it?" He gestured to himself.

"Does that bother you? It doesn't bother me. I--wish you'd said something, done something…." I shut my mouth, afraid I was going to say too much, too fast. His eyes took on an odd look.

"I'm not ashamed of it, if that's what you mean. I just didn't want to freak you out, or spook you." I must have had a question in my eyes then, because he sighed loudly and shoved the magazine at me before turning and heading for the couch. I tossed the mag into my room. "Blair, in all the time I've known you, I've never *once* seen you date a another man; nor have you ever come home smelling like another guy. Believe me, I'd have known."

"Why--were you monitoring who I was going out with? Why would you do that?" I followed him and sat down, as closely as I dared. I could almost feel the heat coming off of him, and shivered in response.

"I was hoping…wishing…that you liked men. That you liked *me*." He said the last words so quietly I nearly didn't catch them; when my brain registered what he'd just said, I nearly had a fit right then.

"Son-of-a-bitch. All this time and *you* swing both ways?" I felt heat moving through my body that had nothing--or everything--to do with anger. Anger at him, for time lost; anger at me for not reading the signs better. "Were you ever going to say something?"

He shook his head. "Not unless it was an extreme moment. You gotta understand, I'm not out, Chief. I'm discretely out to a few close friends; friends I know will look the other way. But as an ex-Army officer, and as a cop right now, it's not a friendly world out there, even for a man who's bisexual."

"Tell me about it," I said acerbically. It still hurt to think of how long we'd been reading each other wrong…of how we might have continued to do so, had I not ordered that magazine. I looked up at him then, determined there be no more misunderstandings. "I want you, Jim. But not as a one-nighter. You've got my heart, if you want it--it's yours for the taking."

His eyes got real wide at that and a strange look passed over his face. "I've wanted you, wanted your love, from the minute I laid eyes on you. I've spent more time than I could count, in the last year and a half, picturing you beneath me, in my arms, loving me."

I shuddered as his words washed over me, and scooted closer. His body was radiating heat like a furnace and I was drawn to him, to that sensual warmth. "You like top or bottom?" I murmured as I moved even closer, my leg hooking over his.

"Jesus, Sandburg…" he groaned when I climbed onto his lap, straddling his legs. His crotch was fire-hot, and hard. I rubbed myself against him and felt the answering shudder move through him. "I like to fuck and I like to be fucked. Does that answer your question?"

"Oh yeah," I whispered, just before I touched his mouth with mine.

Kissing him was incredible--I've never tasted anything so sweet, or hot, or alive. His tongue followed mine, playing with it, chasing it. I groaned when he sucked it into his mouth, the sound getting lost in the wet, sucking noises we were making.

His lips left mine and he moved over to suck and bit at my neck, marking me just like in my fantasy. I growled when he bit hard, sucking the skin in and nipping at me. He moved moved up to my earlobe where I had the rings, and played with the silver there, biting and tugging on them. My fingers got busy and began playing with his nipples through this tee-shirt; I was pleased with how responsive he was when they budded under the pads of my fingertips. Hard, hot little points that my mouth watered at the thought of tasting. I skimmed my hands down his sides to find his shirt tucked in at the waist.

"You've got too many clothes on, lover," I managed to gasp; his tongue was doing wonderful, wicked things to the inside of my ear and it was a sacrifice to move at all.

"Let's take care of that then," he muttered, his breath hot and moist against my sensitive ear. We stood up, and he peeled off his clothing while I took off my robe.

Up close and naked, he was glorious. The pictures didn't do justice to the man. His body was like a fucking statue come to life; perfectly sculpted, yet alive and breathing…glowing. I ran my fingers down his chest, because I could, taking delight in the way he shivered and shuddered at my touch. His nipples were peaked and I leaned in to swipe my tongue across it, delighting in the groan that fell from his lips. I bit down gently, taking the tiny nub between my teeth, and he growled.

"You like to play rough?" He questioned in a husky, raw voice.

"Sometimes. Not now; not really. I just want to taste you…eat you. All of you." I stepped back, my legs shaking badly, and finished looking at him. Narrow, muscular waist; thick, hard thighs and legs. His cock was beautiful; pure perfection. Long, thick, just ever-so-slightly curved near the tip. The head was a dark red and drooling with need, from the moisture covering the top. I rubbed my thumb across the top, touching the slit there gently, then sucked the moisture into my mouth. His eyes darkened when I did that; when I muttered, "Delicious," he grabbed me by the shoulders and took my mouth in a bruising, hungry kiss.

His hands roamed my body, touching me, arousing me. I rubbed my chest against his, felt my erect nipples brushing against the hard planes there. He groaned against my mouth and broke the kiss to lower his head and suck one into his mouth. I arched my back in pleased surprise; his mouth was hot and wet, the thing of dreams, suckling me. He nibbled around the areola, then sucked the whole thing in again, hard, hot suction. His other hand rose to pinch at the other nipple; a hard, rough twist that sent jolts of pleasure sizzling through me. I shuddered and shook in his arms as my cock exploded without ever having been touched.

"Oh, Jesus…" I sank to my knees from the force of the orgasm, my heart pounding so hard I was sure I was going to die right then and there. At least I would have died happy, though.

He followed me down, then laid me on my back and began licking the juices from my body. The sheer eroticism of this, of having Jim doing this to me, sent shivers through me again and again.

"You taste so good, baby," he was saying over and over, between licks. A hot, wet mouth fastened onto my flaccid rod and suckled gently. I gasped when I felt the first stirrings of desire running through me again; I'd come twice now--I couldn't imagine doing it again.

My knees were pushed up and back, and my legs fell open, splayed wide. His tongue traced a line from my dick down to my balls, where he sucked each one in, in turn, before moving on. I shuddered under his hands as Jim pushed my legs open even further, then lay between them, his tongue gently caresssing me. Little nips and kisses to the fleshy part of my ass, then long licks into the crease between the cheeks, always going past my anus. My cock was beginning to fill again, to my absolute shock, and I was beginning to wiggle a little from the increased stimulation.

"You're awfully good at this," I whispered, my hand going to caress his short hair. His tongue made a wide, sweeping pass over my ass, then dropped back into my cleft. He gently thrust into my hot little hole, beginning to stretch me.

"I want to fuck you," he muttered hoarsely, looking up at me. His eyes were--they were so hot, so full of lust, of love·

"I want you to," I managed, feeling my insides clench up. 'Fuck' was just a word. Whatever we did, it would be making love, no matter what we called it.

He went back to my tongue bath, this time taking care to lave the whole area, flicking it gently across my entrance, teasing me. He gave my little hole a long, sucking kiss before continuing to thrust again, caressing my passage from the inside out. I shuddered as he made love to me with that talented tongue, teasing me, tormenting me, promising me. When he pulled back I was a writhing, incoherent mass of need lying there.

"Where're you going?" I managed to ask, his moving away penetrating the fog in my brain.

"Lube," was the succinct answer, and he disappeared down the hall, returning with a bottle of mineral oil. I pushed myself up on my elbows to watch him trickle the oil down over my cock and balls, and into the darkness below. He lubed up a finger, then pressed it into me, smiling when my body relaxed around it and welcomed him in. "Been long?"

"Done…myself…" I ground out, as he slid a second finger up inside me, thrusting slowly. My hips began a slow motion of their own, moving in time with the fingers. "C'mon, Jim…inside me…."

"In a minute…what's your rush?" His voice was husky, but teasing, and he stopped the fingers, holding them still within me. I pushed my hips down against him.

"Jiiim!"

He pulled them out, then oiled them and slid 'em in again, moving and twisting them within my body, opening me. I could feel myself relaxing around him, opening for him. A third finger slid in, my feverishly-hot body welcoming the momentary coolness of the new intruder. Then he was thrusting, moving his fingers faster, and I was pushing back against him--

"I think you're ready, baby," he gasped, when I tightened my muscles around him.

"Yes!" I gasped, rolling onto my stomach when he removed his fingers. I pulled my knees up under me a little and wiggled my ass at him. "C'mon in, Jim--take it. Take it and do me hard…"

He pressed his cock against me and pushed. I felt the muscle give way, permitting him entry, and forced my body to bear down, opening myself to him. He grunted and slid in, pushing a loud groan out of me.

"You okay?" He stopped inside me, not moving. I nodded, my breath still to ragged to reply. "You sure?"

"Fine," I managed. "Go--do it! Give it to me!" I pushed back at him, welcoming the momentary sear of pain that gave way to pleasure; warmth glowing through me now.

He pushed me flat on the floor and slid in and out smoothly, slowly gaining speed and momentum. I pushed back at him, wanting more, needing more. The rug we were on rubbed against me, the friction on my cock almost, but not quite enough to get me to come. Jim pulled us up, getting me onto all fours, then started thrusting in earnest, his hand wrapped around my cock, jacking me in time to his rhythm.

"Oh, God," I moaned, the familiar feelings sweeping through me. "More, Jim…more…"

"Yes, yes, I'll give it to you…God, Blair·" He pushed me back down again, and slammed into me, the friction of our movements pushing my cock against the rug. This was enough; this would do it. I felt his body cover mine, although he kept his weight off me, and his lips were nuzzling at the back of my neck. "You're so hot…so good…I've wanted to do this forever…feel me fucking you? Moving inside you? Are you mine, Blair? Are you?" He punctuated each question with a little nip to my shoulder or neck, until the last. He bit me, hard, and I screamed as the pleasure/pain ripped through me.

"YES!" I yelled, thrusting back at him. "God, yes!"

"Yes, what?" he shoved into me harder, then bit down again. "Tell me!"

"Yours! I'm yours, dammit!" I rubbed myself downward against the rug, then shoved up against him. "Do it, fuck me! Make me come!"

He scissored my legs open with his own and shifted. His next thrust sent a white-hot flash of pleasure knifing through me and I knew he'd hit my prostate. I whimpered and pushed against him and he did it again. And again. And one last time, biting my shoulder hard as he did so, the combined sensations shoving me over the edge. I screamed his name and came, my orgasm shaking its way through me.

I felt his answering climax flood my insides with hot liquid; heard the love and desire in the way he yelled my name as he came in me.

We collapsed onto the rug, both of boneless from the mind-blowing experience we'd just shared.

********

"God, I'm sore," I complained later, when we were sitting on the couch eating the Chinese we'd had delivered. We'd both decided we weren't up to going out for the evening after all.

"I'm sorry," he caressed my hair, moving it aside to kiss my ear. I shivered.

"I'm not complaining, Jim--just stating facts. I haven't been fucked that well since…well, never, probably."

He actually blushed a little bit, then cleared his throat. "I didn't--I haven't said the words yet, Blair--"

"I haven't either," I reminded him, putting my plate aside to turn and look at him. "You want to go first?"

He nodded, then gulped. "This is harder than I'd thought it would be," he said quietly. He took my hand and kissed the palm, then curled it around his own. "I love you, Chief."

I smiled at him, my heart about to burst from happiness. "Love you too, Jim." I leaned in for a quick kiss, then had to tease. "Next time you get the urge to take your clothes off for the camera…make sure I'm behind the lens, okay?"

"Next time I get the urge to take my clothes off, there won't *be* a camera, unless * you* want more photos of me.'"

"Nope, not me. I got all the images I need here," I tapped my forehead. "Besides, who needs pictures when I've got the real thing?"

His answer was to pull me in for another long, hot kiss.

~finis~

Back to Sentinel Stories