Star Trek Porn! Parte Dos!
Title: Casual
Author: baehj2915
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk, mentions of girl!Spock
Rating: NC-17, straight up sex, yo.
Disclaimer: Know nothing, own nothing, I don’t mean anything by this, etc., etc. ST XI.
Summary/Warnings: Bones POV. Excerpt from something I will never finish. Sometimes friends just bone their friends. It's completely normal.
(Notes: So I was trying to write an always-a-girl!Spock/Bones and it didn’t work out real well. It was fun for a couple of days, but then I got tired of boobs, I guess, and wound up writing a Kirk/Bones scene. Apparently I was desperate for slash. So Spock is referred to as a woman in this section, but doesn’t make an appearance. It’s all Jim and Bones.)
Everyone had gone, but Jim and Scotty. They were still in their poker spots. Scotty was drunk and tiredly pushing at the pile of food and chips and data disks on my desk. Jim had his feet up on my desk, contemplatively staring at the ceiling. I was almost falling into my scotch I was so tired.
Then, without prompting, Scotty said, “That Miss Spock is a gorgeous lass, innit she?”
I mumbled something about agreeing and brought up a mental image of the woman. She was a few inches shy of Jim’s height, but the opposite of him, really. Cool, pale and dark. Thin and lengthy. Legs that went up to God knows where. Narrow hips, but not so narrow her breasts or shoulders were disproportionate. And despite her thin frame and pencil-sized waist, she had a plump little ass and small, round, heavy-looking breasts. Her muscles were very lean, but powered by ultra dense Vulcan protein fibers. She could easily grab a full grown man and throw him against a wall and…
These assholes had to get out of my office.
Jim half-moaned, eyes still on the ceiling. “Hot little half-Vulcan. Been tryin’ to convince her to wear the skirt. All legs.”
Those terrible, inefficient, scanty, objectifying skirts. Girls spent more damn time trying to keep their asses covered than working. But skirts were popular. And those boots. Just how much longer were Spock’s legs than the average woman? I could probably pick up a PADD and find out.
Bad idea, in the long run, I thought. Both the skirt and the PADD.
“Nurse Chapel’s got great gams,” Scotty said thickly. Jim nodded loudly, somehow.
But she didn’t have those elegant curved points to her ears. She, nor no one else I’d ever met, had that cool, olive flush underneath the pale. Or red-orange veins almost visible beneath her skin. Or those sharp, deep brown eyes below constantly piqued eyebrows.
Scotty added in a singsong wistful way, “Nyota has such a beautiful neck.”
“Neck?” I said, at the same time Jim said, “Nyota?”
Scotty cleared his throat and ignored the redness on his face. He lifted his scotch, “To the beautiful ladies of the Enterprise.”
Jim and I nodded and drank in assent.
Jim hissed and said, “Too bad I feel like cock.”
I groaned. Scotty chuckled. Saying “too bad I feel like cock” probably wasn’t something a Captain should be revealing to his crew. Fortunately, I was more than used to Jim’s proclivities and Scotty was goddamn difficult to shock.
Also, in times of a sudden, desperate need for cock, I had always been the cock Jim wanted. When he didn’t feel like trolling bars or getting dressed and he “needed” to be fucked when we roomed together, Jim would just walk over to my bed without asking and put his hand down my pants. Any initial refusal or distress on my part was met with a smirk, a wink and the unspoken promise that it would never affect the best friends part of our relationship. And since it never had, and it never happened that often, I let him. And to tell the truth, it worked out in a lot of ways. When I met Jim I was too hateful and angry to date, too reserved to fuck a stranger, but still, obviously, as a Human male, wanted sex occasionally.
I just so happened to meet the guy who gave blowjobs as freely as someone else might share a soda.
And that’s how I got through Academy med classes, surrounded by jackasses ten years younger than me with no prior experience, trying to one-up me in practicums, without breaking necks. By getting blown by a jackass ten years younger than me.
“You are a different man than I, Captain,” was all Scotty said, with a grin. Scotty wobbly got up, still smiling, and snatched a hangover hypo from my cupboard.
“Good eve, gentlemen,” he said, and wobbled away.
Jim looked over at me and waggled his eyebrows in a way he no doubt thought was devastating, but was a little too inebriated to pull off.
I felt slight hesitation. I enjoyed getting off as much as the next guy and that’s all this was. But we hadn’t done this since Jim added Captain to his name. And this had always been Jim’s thing. Something he asked of me without asking, but I did because he was my friend and at the very least it was one more night he didn’t go chase some diseased strange. Which he’d cut down on significantly since the Enterprise started her mission, as far as I could tell.
“Is this wise considering your relatively new position?” I said, setting my glass down.
“What? I’m not gonna order you to let me sit on your dick.”
“What if someone finds out?”
He snapped up to standing and walked over to the doors and typed in something in the keypad. “That’s why we lock them with a code that no one but the Captain knows. And since the Captain hasn’t gotten laid in three months, he’s not gonna be disturbed.”
“Three months? Is that a record for you?”
Jim smirked and pulled off his shirt. “What? I can’t go around harassing everyone on the ship?”
“Just me?”
“Just you,” he said, then he pulled his belt out of his pants. His smile dropped for a second. “Can I ask you a favor though?”
I finally stood up and kicked off my boots. “Go for it.”
“Can you fuck me?”
“Well, Jim, what were-“
“I mean, you know, really fuck me. I know that normally I just ride you, or give you an undeserved blowie, and then we’re done and it all goes back to normal. But… You know, just take the authority out of my hands.”
I slowly pulled my belt out of its loops. “Sure, I guess that’s-“
Jim’s grin suddenly came back. “Just fuck me like you wanna fuck Spock.”
I sputtered, my hands still at my fly.
Jim chuckled, letting his pants slide off. “Don’t act like I just met you, Bones. I know when you like someone. This time, though, promise me, you’ll actually go after her, instead of just yearning in the background. It’s sad and you’re the CMO of Starfleet’s flagship. That’s pretty cool and not pathetic. Let your behavior reflect that.”
I pulled off my shirt in a huff, “Damn it, Jim, I’m not you. I can’t just flop into bed with people. I don’t do sex without romance. Except for you.”
Jim guffawed, while sliding a hand into his briefs, massaging his junk. “Don’t I know it? Both counts. If it weren’t for me you’d never get laid and you’d be even more miserable, which is unbelievably hard to fathom.”
He walked over and pulled my pants down over my hips and put a firm hand around my dick, molding it into hardness. “So, romance her,” he continued. “Ask her out on a date. You know, something nerdy she can put her head around. Observing warp core transfer or a dissection. She’d like that. Yeah. Then you can do the kinky Vulcan samba.”
Jim’s voice had slid into a breathy parody of arousal as his hand pulled and squeezed the shaft of my penis.
“Kinky Vulcan samba?” I echoed incredulously.
“You know she used to screw Uhura. I bet Uhura knows how to samba. She looks like she can samba.”
I moaned as he pulled particularly hard and a flash of Spock and Uhura hit my brain. Jim slowly walked me backward to the desk, holding my cock like a leash.
“Now is the time when you put your lips around my penis for a minute, so you stop sounding like such a damn fool.”
Jim laughed and dropped to his knees. He wrapped his hands around the back of my thighs and started sucking on the glans, slowly taking in more after that. He was really too happy about even tacit compliments to his ability to give great head. Frankly, he wasn’t wrong. I’d talked to enough morning-after stragglers in our campus apartment, after my night shift, to know that most of them thought Jim Kirk was God’s gift to oral sex. And when his tongue was wet and strong as he tried to swallow my dick it was hard to argue with the consensus.
I patted the side of his face and grunted out an, “Kay. ‘Sgood.”
The suction release was audible. Christ, it was already purple.
“Jesus, you’re in a hurry,” I muttered, putting out an unsteady foot to get lube from a cupboard.
Jim cracked his jaw, “What about ‘I’m in the mood for cock’ is confusing to you? Hurry up and fuck me.”
And that was his downside to sex. He was demanding and impatient. I’d never had an encounter with Jim where he didn’t want it as hard and as fast as possible. For me, that was fine occasionally, but I generally liked a slower pace.
When I turned back to the desk, Jim was practically draped over it, pushing a pile of chips that I think had been Christine’s to the floor. I squeezed a liberal amount over my fingers and on his anus, simultaneously pushing in with a slick finger, not waiting very long for a second.
“Why are we doing this in my office? I know your room has the requisite toys and supplies handy. Don’t knock over that-“
The glass with a few sips of scotch crashed to the floor.
Jim grunted and pushed his hips back against me. His rectum squeezed around my fingers. “Get inside me,” he said fast and hushed. I ignored him for a minute, scissoring with my fingers in small circles.
“You’re so clinically efficient. It’s hot.”
I put more lube on my hand and smoothed it over the length of my penis. I grabbed hold of Jim’s hipbone with my dry hand and eased inside the tight channel, feeling the blood drain from my face even more. A few slow thrusts to get my bearings earned a tight clenching and a push back. Jim spread his legs and let his elbows drop a little on the table. For someone who wanted me to take the reigns he was being damn insistent.
I dropped my sticky hand under his stomach to massage his cock. I grabbed a hold of his trapezius with and my other and started fucking him hard, as safely as I could. He panted with every grind of the prostate, letting his face drop onto a pile of cards. That was one thing Jim was beautiful at. Letting you see his arched lips go slack, panting for more. He pushed himself off the desk a little more, leaning into my push, arching his back, pressing his forehead harder against the desk. I pushed on his back, pumping a little faster.
He let out a long, throaty groan and short hard breath. “Bones… deep.”
I growled, let go of his dick, and picked up his thighs, putting him around me wheelbarrow style. He let out a breathy laugh and grabbed onto the desk for support. After a few seconds I knew it was a mistake. He was fucking heavy. But the dropped angle of his hips let me fuck deeper and faster and easier. I came with a grunt, after almost losing my thoughts in the steady slapping of sweaty flesh and Jim’s little moaning heaves at every stroke.
I nearly dropped him when I let go of his thighs, feeling the burn in my shoulders. I backed up a couple paces, watching him go to the floor from weak knees. He half leaned against my desk and stroked himself, with a half-pained smile on his lips. I watched him with my hands on my hips. I felt a little bad, but not too much, for not jerking him off. But he seemed to enjoy touching himself. He came on his stomach with a laugh, rubbing his hand in the ejaculate. He moaned at himself.
I shook my head.
If someone’d told me five years ago this is what I’d be watching, I’d tell them to fuck off. Jim was the anomalous blip in my otherwise heterosexual sex life. And it’s not like I though him coming all over himself was hot. He certainly enjoyed that though. Jim was pretty as fuck, but that’s about as far as it went. Our occasional sex was simply pragmatic.
I went to the cupboard and pulled out a packet of sanitary wipes, taking one for myself, I threw the rest near Jim’s hips. He was motionless and smirking with euphoria.
“Clean yourself up.”
I turned away to wipe off my hands, then my testicles and the head of my penis. I wadded it up and threw it in the trash and quickly put my boxers back on. I sat on the floor a few feet away from him.
“You’re so shy when you’re not railing a guy,” Jim said, his voice still heavy with breath. I looked back. He hadn’t budged except for to lazily stroke the sparse, come thick hairs trailing up his stomach.
“Could you be anymore in love with yourself? You are wallowing in your own semen.”
He waved a glistening hand and picked up the wipes next to him. “You’re just jealous of the level of Zen I’ve achieved with my messy human body, you paranoid freak. Bacteria and semen be damned. It’s all Kirk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, wipe that part of Kirk off your belly and get dressed. You’ve been naked too long.”
He chuckled and tossed a soiled wipe in the trash. “That is not something you should say to Spock, by the way… Hey, when’s the last time you fucked a lady?”
Midterm of first year at the Academy. Jim and I had spent the majority of the time wasted. Jim, because that was what he did to celebrate, forget, or honor just about any occasion and we made it through our first semester. I was drunk mostly because I was a 32-year-old divorced man who used to have a house living in a campus apartment surrounded by twenty-something punks I hated and I’d just missed Johanna’s birthday and I missed Jocelyn in general, even though I hated her. Somehow, I managed to pull an engineering student who didn’t look too young, but was very likely as drunk as I was, if not more. We had sloppy sex on my couch and I think I drunkenly wept about my daughter afterwards.
After that the sporadic blowjob from Jim, or the even more infrequent wake-up in the middle of the night to use my cock as a pogo stick, was enough release of sexual tension, aside from masturbation, to keep going for the rest of the two and a half years we were at the Academy.
“Too long,” I said.
And I was sitting on the floor after just having fucked my best friend, who was concentrating on wiping the semen out of his pubes. I wasn’t overly comfortable with our sexual arrangement. But it, for some ungodly reason, did not at all feel shithouse crazy to me. It certainly should have.
“Too goddamn long.”
:D ;D
JLB
Author: baehj2915
Pairing: McCoy/Kirk, mentions of girl!Spock
Rating: NC-17, straight up sex, yo.
Disclaimer: Know nothing, own nothing, I don’t mean anything by this, etc., etc. ST XI.
Summary/Warnings: Bones POV. Excerpt from something I will never finish. Sometimes friends just bone their friends. It's completely normal.
(Notes: So I was trying to write an always-a-girl!Spock/Bones and it didn’t work out real well. It was fun for a couple of days, but then I got tired of boobs, I guess, and wound up writing a Kirk/Bones scene. Apparently I was desperate for slash. So Spock is referred to as a woman in this section, but doesn’t make an appearance. It’s all Jim and Bones.)
Everyone had gone, but Jim and Scotty. They were still in their poker spots. Scotty was drunk and tiredly pushing at the pile of food and chips and data disks on my desk. Jim had his feet up on my desk, contemplatively staring at the ceiling. I was almost falling into my scotch I was so tired.
Then, without prompting, Scotty said, “That Miss Spock is a gorgeous lass, innit she?”
I mumbled something about agreeing and brought up a mental image of the woman. She was a few inches shy of Jim’s height, but the opposite of him, really. Cool, pale and dark. Thin and lengthy. Legs that went up to God knows where. Narrow hips, but not so narrow her breasts or shoulders were disproportionate. And despite her thin frame and pencil-sized waist, she had a plump little ass and small, round, heavy-looking breasts. Her muscles were very lean, but powered by ultra dense Vulcan protein fibers. She could easily grab a full grown man and throw him against a wall and…
These assholes had to get out of my office.
Jim half-moaned, eyes still on the ceiling. “Hot little half-Vulcan. Been tryin’ to convince her to wear the skirt. All legs.”
Those terrible, inefficient, scanty, objectifying skirts. Girls spent more damn time trying to keep their asses covered than working. But skirts were popular. And those boots. Just how much longer were Spock’s legs than the average woman? I could probably pick up a PADD and find out.
Bad idea, in the long run, I thought. Both the skirt and the PADD.
“Nurse Chapel’s got great gams,” Scotty said thickly. Jim nodded loudly, somehow.
But she didn’t have those elegant curved points to her ears. She, nor no one else I’d ever met, had that cool, olive flush underneath the pale. Or red-orange veins almost visible beneath her skin. Or those sharp, deep brown eyes below constantly piqued eyebrows.
Scotty added in a singsong wistful way, “Nyota has such a beautiful neck.”
“Neck?” I said, at the same time Jim said, “Nyota?”
Scotty cleared his throat and ignored the redness on his face. He lifted his scotch, “To the beautiful ladies of the Enterprise.”
Jim and I nodded and drank in assent.
Jim hissed and said, “Too bad I feel like cock.”
I groaned. Scotty chuckled. Saying “too bad I feel like cock” probably wasn’t something a Captain should be revealing to his crew. Fortunately, I was more than used to Jim’s proclivities and Scotty was goddamn difficult to shock.
Also, in times of a sudden, desperate need for cock, I had always been the cock Jim wanted. When he didn’t feel like trolling bars or getting dressed and he “needed” to be fucked when we roomed together, Jim would just walk over to my bed without asking and put his hand down my pants. Any initial refusal or distress on my part was met with a smirk, a wink and the unspoken promise that it would never affect the best friends part of our relationship. And since it never had, and it never happened that often, I let him. And to tell the truth, it worked out in a lot of ways. When I met Jim I was too hateful and angry to date, too reserved to fuck a stranger, but still, obviously, as a Human male, wanted sex occasionally.
I just so happened to meet the guy who gave blowjobs as freely as someone else might share a soda.
And that’s how I got through Academy med classes, surrounded by jackasses ten years younger than me with no prior experience, trying to one-up me in practicums, without breaking necks. By getting blown by a jackass ten years younger than me.
“You are a different man than I, Captain,” was all Scotty said, with a grin. Scotty wobbly got up, still smiling, and snatched a hangover hypo from my cupboard.
“Good eve, gentlemen,” he said, and wobbled away.
Jim looked over at me and waggled his eyebrows in a way he no doubt thought was devastating, but was a little too inebriated to pull off.
I felt slight hesitation. I enjoyed getting off as much as the next guy and that’s all this was. But we hadn’t done this since Jim added Captain to his name. And this had always been Jim’s thing. Something he asked of me without asking, but I did because he was my friend and at the very least it was one more night he didn’t go chase some diseased strange. Which he’d cut down on significantly since the Enterprise started her mission, as far as I could tell.
“Is this wise considering your relatively new position?” I said, setting my glass down.
“What? I’m not gonna order you to let me sit on your dick.”
“What if someone finds out?”
He snapped up to standing and walked over to the doors and typed in something in the keypad. “That’s why we lock them with a code that no one but the Captain knows. And since the Captain hasn’t gotten laid in three months, he’s not gonna be disturbed.”
“Three months? Is that a record for you?”
Jim smirked and pulled off his shirt. “What? I can’t go around harassing everyone on the ship?”
“Just me?”
“Just you,” he said, then he pulled his belt out of his pants. His smile dropped for a second. “Can I ask you a favor though?”
I finally stood up and kicked off my boots. “Go for it.”
“Can you fuck me?”
“Well, Jim, what were-“
“I mean, you know, really fuck me. I know that normally I just ride you, or give you an undeserved blowie, and then we’re done and it all goes back to normal. But… You know, just take the authority out of my hands.”
I slowly pulled my belt out of its loops. “Sure, I guess that’s-“
Jim’s grin suddenly came back. “Just fuck me like you wanna fuck Spock.”
I sputtered, my hands still at my fly.
Jim chuckled, letting his pants slide off. “Don’t act like I just met you, Bones. I know when you like someone. This time, though, promise me, you’ll actually go after her, instead of just yearning in the background. It’s sad and you’re the CMO of Starfleet’s flagship. That’s pretty cool and not pathetic. Let your behavior reflect that.”
I pulled off my shirt in a huff, “Damn it, Jim, I’m not you. I can’t just flop into bed with people. I don’t do sex without romance. Except for you.”
Jim guffawed, while sliding a hand into his briefs, massaging his junk. “Don’t I know it? Both counts. If it weren’t for me you’d never get laid and you’d be even more miserable, which is unbelievably hard to fathom.”
He walked over and pulled my pants down over my hips and put a firm hand around my dick, molding it into hardness. “So, romance her,” he continued. “Ask her out on a date. You know, something nerdy she can put her head around. Observing warp core transfer or a dissection. She’d like that. Yeah. Then you can do the kinky Vulcan samba.”
Jim’s voice had slid into a breathy parody of arousal as his hand pulled and squeezed the shaft of my penis.
“Kinky Vulcan samba?” I echoed incredulously.
“You know she used to screw Uhura. I bet Uhura knows how to samba. She looks like she can samba.”
I moaned as he pulled particularly hard and a flash of Spock and Uhura hit my brain. Jim slowly walked me backward to the desk, holding my cock like a leash.
“Now is the time when you put your lips around my penis for a minute, so you stop sounding like such a damn fool.”
Jim laughed and dropped to his knees. He wrapped his hands around the back of my thighs and started sucking on the glans, slowly taking in more after that. He was really too happy about even tacit compliments to his ability to give great head. Frankly, he wasn’t wrong. I’d talked to enough morning-after stragglers in our campus apartment, after my night shift, to know that most of them thought Jim Kirk was God’s gift to oral sex. And when his tongue was wet and strong as he tried to swallow my dick it was hard to argue with the consensus.
I patted the side of his face and grunted out an, “Kay. ‘Sgood.”
The suction release was audible. Christ, it was already purple.
“Jesus, you’re in a hurry,” I muttered, putting out an unsteady foot to get lube from a cupboard.
Jim cracked his jaw, “What about ‘I’m in the mood for cock’ is confusing to you? Hurry up and fuck me.”
And that was his downside to sex. He was demanding and impatient. I’d never had an encounter with Jim where he didn’t want it as hard and as fast as possible. For me, that was fine occasionally, but I generally liked a slower pace.
When I turned back to the desk, Jim was practically draped over it, pushing a pile of chips that I think had been Christine’s to the floor. I squeezed a liberal amount over my fingers and on his anus, simultaneously pushing in with a slick finger, not waiting very long for a second.
“Why are we doing this in my office? I know your room has the requisite toys and supplies handy. Don’t knock over that-“
The glass with a few sips of scotch crashed to the floor.
Jim grunted and pushed his hips back against me. His rectum squeezed around my fingers. “Get inside me,” he said fast and hushed. I ignored him for a minute, scissoring with my fingers in small circles.
“You’re so clinically efficient. It’s hot.”
I put more lube on my hand and smoothed it over the length of my penis. I grabbed hold of Jim’s hipbone with my dry hand and eased inside the tight channel, feeling the blood drain from my face even more. A few slow thrusts to get my bearings earned a tight clenching and a push back. Jim spread his legs and let his elbows drop a little on the table. For someone who wanted me to take the reigns he was being damn insistent.
I dropped my sticky hand under his stomach to massage his cock. I grabbed a hold of his trapezius with and my other and started fucking him hard, as safely as I could. He panted with every grind of the prostate, letting his face drop onto a pile of cards. That was one thing Jim was beautiful at. Letting you see his arched lips go slack, panting for more. He pushed himself off the desk a little more, leaning into my push, arching his back, pressing his forehead harder against the desk. I pushed on his back, pumping a little faster.
He let out a long, throaty groan and short hard breath. “Bones… deep.”
I growled, let go of his dick, and picked up his thighs, putting him around me wheelbarrow style. He let out a breathy laugh and grabbed onto the desk for support. After a few seconds I knew it was a mistake. He was fucking heavy. But the dropped angle of his hips let me fuck deeper and faster and easier. I came with a grunt, after almost losing my thoughts in the steady slapping of sweaty flesh and Jim’s little moaning heaves at every stroke.
I nearly dropped him when I let go of his thighs, feeling the burn in my shoulders. I backed up a couple paces, watching him go to the floor from weak knees. He half leaned against my desk and stroked himself, with a half-pained smile on his lips. I watched him with my hands on my hips. I felt a little bad, but not too much, for not jerking him off. But he seemed to enjoy touching himself. He came on his stomach with a laugh, rubbing his hand in the ejaculate. He moaned at himself.
I shook my head.
If someone’d told me five years ago this is what I’d be watching, I’d tell them to fuck off. Jim was the anomalous blip in my otherwise heterosexual sex life. And it’s not like I though him coming all over himself was hot. He certainly enjoyed that though. Jim was pretty as fuck, but that’s about as far as it went. Our occasional sex was simply pragmatic.
I went to the cupboard and pulled out a packet of sanitary wipes, taking one for myself, I threw the rest near Jim’s hips. He was motionless and smirking with euphoria.
“Clean yourself up.”
I turned away to wipe off my hands, then my testicles and the head of my penis. I wadded it up and threw it in the trash and quickly put my boxers back on. I sat on the floor a few feet away from him.
“You’re so shy when you’re not railing a guy,” Jim said, his voice still heavy with breath. I looked back. He hadn’t budged except for to lazily stroke the sparse, come thick hairs trailing up his stomach.
“Could you be anymore in love with yourself? You are wallowing in your own semen.”
He waved a glistening hand and picked up the wipes next to him. “You’re just jealous of the level of Zen I’ve achieved with my messy human body, you paranoid freak. Bacteria and semen be damned. It’s all Kirk.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, wipe that part of Kirk off your belly and get dressed. You’ve been naked too long.”
He chuckled and tossed a soiled wipe in the trash. “That is not something you should say to Spock, by the way… Hey, when’s the last time you fucked a lady?”
Midterm of first year at the Academy. Jim and I had spent the majority of the time wasted. Jim, because that was what he did to celebrate, forget, or honor just about any occasion and we made it through our first semester. I was drunk mostly because I was a 32-year-old divorced man who used to have a house living in a campus apartment surrounded by twenty-something punks I hated and I’d just missed Johanna’s birthday and I missed Jocelyn in general, even though I hated her. Somehow, I managed to pull an engineering student who didn’t look too young, but was very likely as drunk as I was, if not more. We had sloppy sex on my couch and I think I drunkenly wept about my daughter afterwards.
After that the sporadic blowjob from Jim, or the even more infrequent wake-up in the middle of the night to use my cock as a pogo stick, was enough release of sexual tension, aside from masturbation, to keep going for the rest of the two and a half years we were at the Academy.
“Too long,” I said.
And I was sitting on the floor after just having fucked my best friend, who was concentrating on wiping the semen out of his pubes. I wasn’t overly comfortable with our sexual arrangement. But it, for some ungodly reason, did not at all feel shithouse crazy to me. It certainly should have.
“Too goddamn long.”
:D ;D
JLB