Author: timrod
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mmmmike
Disclaimer: I don't own Green Day. Dammit. Think of the fun if I did.
Part eleven of fuck knows. Think of this as an early Christmas treat
Goes hand in handcuffs with
http://comingclean.livejournal.com/2962887.html http://timrod.livejournal.com/11658.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3013587.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3014728.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3015214.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3016092.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3018511.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3020971.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3022119.html http://comingclean.livejournal.com/3023458.html With the working title of the Mister Fister, Billie’s next challenge was a plainish-looking vibrator at first glance with a bulbous end, which was mounted on a sort of internal spring mechanism. Trying it before we slipped it into him had us laughing so much, we nearly choked, watching it bounce about like some kind of obscene Jack-in-the-box. The name alone was funny, and I admit, it didn’t help when I used the Sharpie to draw a face on it. Or when I gave it a silly voice.
The Berocca/coffee combo, as well as turning our pee laser-bright, had finally given us the energy we needed to do justice to the products of Julie’s imagination, but right now, Billie was wasting his with those hysterical giggles, which kept setting me off, too. I had to get us in the mood for some serious fun, and so I took a tried and tested course of action. Namely, letting the toy drop to the bed and smothering his torso in wet kisses, groping his sac for good measure.
He sobered up pretty damn quick. His giggles sputtered out into gasps, and for a moment, we nearly got carried away with no mechanical involvement whatsoever. Readjusting my grip as one of his heavy balls tried to escape, my fingertips brushed over his crack, and his natural reaction was to part his legs. I couldn’t disappoint him, and spent a good few minutes down there, making him twitch and moan into my hair, giving voice to his inner whore. I had my tongue in his deep little reservoir of a belly button when he let me know he’d had enough foreplay, by simply handing me the lube. His middle name is Subtle.
First name Un.
The Mister Fister went in smoothly, all the way to its flared suction-cup base in one go. It was about the same length as me, but much smaller in girth, except for that top inch or so, and he took it without any problem. I lifted his balls for the camera to capture him in all his glory (yeah, I know, that word again), then flicked the switch to set it in motion.
With the first muffled throb of the motor, he melted. His eyes closed and his arms, which had been bent behind his head, dropped to the mattress, outstretched. He looked gorgeous, serene and relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips. It was another toy with Julie’s brilliant ‘Stay-Put’ design, and although it was obvious from Billie’s reactions that it was moving inside him, it didn’t need me to hold the thing to stop it escaping. Basically, I was free to squeeze, lick or stroke any part of him that took my fancy, and every shudder and sound from my lover let me know just how much he appreciated my help.
I could have watched him all night, although there was not a lot of that left, probably just a couple of hours before the light of dawn filled our room and made the lamps redundant. We’d spent over two hours perving over the images of ourselves on the TV screen, pausing and rewinding the best bits, reliving both our wedding night, and our recent private party to celebrate its anniversary. The camera has been used only a handful of times since the wedding day, but the little stack of discs on the top shelf of my closet has been visited regularly, either for inspiration, or to fill in the space between prolonged sessions such as this one tonight, which, with two young children, is a rare and precious thing.
It wasn’t going to be prolonged much more, at least this bit of it. Billie’s lips were parted as he breathed noisily through his mouth, eyes gleaming and his chest rising and falling a little more exaggeratedly than normal. Is that even a word? You get the picture, anyway. He was starting to look like he was recovering from an orgasm, not building up to one. Or two. Who knows with Julie’s toys, although this one did seem pretty straightforward. Good thing, especially as we had made that unofficial pact to give all six toys a work-out, and this was only number three. I was getting carried away in my own deep-breathing session, my mouth so hard against his throat that it felt like he had a toy in there as well when he spoke, his Adam’s apple buzzing against my lips.
“Fuck, Mikey …”
“That good, huh?”
He gulped and nodded, tipping his head back further to tighten the skin around the hickey. “Uh-huh. Feels like the ring on the plug yesterday. So good.”
I placed two fingers on the base, and yes, it was vibrating on the outside of his body, too, strong and rhythmic. Damn, I thought I had invented a new toy, but Julie had apparently beaten me to it. I pressed gently, but Billie’s reactions were far from understated. His hips rose clear from the bed, the space between his belly and his cock growing bigger, as did his eyes and he yelped at the intensity of it all happening at once. I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear.
“Tell me how it feels. Talk me through it.”
I don’t know how he found the breath, but he did as I asked, at first not only describing every tingle and thrust in the most intimate detail, but also giving me instructions to help him get the most out of this. It was my pleasure, responding to each husky request for a touch, or a twist, he in turn letting me know exactly what effect my input was having on his progress, not always just with words.
I stayed to one side of him, conscious of not blocking the camera, as he put on a fabulous performance for our later enjoyment. His hair had dried out during our little viewing session, but it was now heavy with sweat once more, random curls sticking to his neck and temples. He’d pinked up a lot since we got back into bed, too, and when I trailed my fingers down his side to play with his balls, goosebumps followed them, and as his commentary had turned into not much more than my name on repeat, I decided it was time to put his lips to another use.
Kissing through a climax is something I would recommend to anyone, straight or gay, and whether it is you or your partner who is about to succumb. Or ahould that be suck …. never mind. What I want to say is that pleasure shared is pleasure more than doubled, as Billie has demonstrated so often. He gets real worked up, and it makes me feel so involved, it’s as good as having an orgasm of my own. Tonight, the kiss was frenzied from the start, but he broke it for a handful of seconds to give me another instalment in the fragmented commentary.
“Close. Touch me.”
I did, willingly, but at my own wickedly slow pace. He whimpered through that frustrating moment before my fingers finally tightened around him, squeezing and coaxing him towards the edge. This toy had only one speed, and the build-up to this point had been relatively steady, but he looked and sounded desperate, even though we both knew he couldn’t be. His cock felt great, hard and hot, and I could feel it trying to flex to the muffled pulse of the toy pumping away inside him, but my grasp was too strong. His balls, too, quivered slightly when I stroked them, and it was after one of these sensuous touches that he finally lost all resistance, gasping and spluttering into our tight kiss, executing tiny thrusts of his pelvis that coincided with the multiple spots of wet heat spattering onto our skin.
I waited until he calmed a little before gently twisting the toy out of his vacuum-sealed ass, and he sounded relieved, although I resumed working on his cock for a time, stretching out the orgasm for as long as I could. Eventually, he stopped spasming in my palm, and only then did I separate our mouths, his lips parting to reveal the most brilliant, dazzling smile, reflected in the sparkle of his eyes. It was the turn of my dick to twitch, he looked so fucking beautiful. The soaked roots of his hair made a dark gap between forehead and bleached-blond curls, giving the effect of a halo, brightly framing hs face. I longed to run my fingers through it, to break the illusion, but I didn’t want to decorate it with the now-cool wetness on my fingers. I wiped most of it off on his stomach, which made him shiver, then grabbed a few Kleenex to use on both of us, and pulled the sheet over his shoulders to warm him. We lay together for ages, belly to still-sticky belly, me kissing and finger-combing his hair, him lazily dragging his lips over my chest and neck, not a single word spoken.
Times like these are few and far between, but when they happen, we’ve learned to make the most of them. The all-night challenge started as a bet between us and Frankie years ago, but they have developed into something far more serious these days. In our hectic, career-and-kid-filled lives, they give us a chance to reaffirm our mutual trust. love and respect, as well as indulge in a little sexual excess. So many times have I thanked Fate for making Billie’s school board go bankrupt, bringing us together at a time when we both needed stability in our lives. He has been my one constant since age ten, always there for me when life handed out lemons, and in turn I have always been there for him. For better and for worse, that’s what we promised on our wedding day, although the vast majority of our relationship has been so much better than we could ever have wished for. I was wrapped up in my thoughts, analysing all the good things in our lives, until his breathy voice pulled me out of myself.
“What’s on your mind, Mikey?” I made a sort of hummed response and he continued. “You’re smiling. Telling yourself dirty jokes again?”
My smile got wider. He’s such a mood-killer sometimes. “Just thinking. About us, the kids, music …”
He yawned and stretched for the last Kleenex in the box to deal with a place I’d missed. “There’s a lot to smile about, right there. Three fifty-five - I wonder if they’re awake.”
“That’s presuming they even went to sleep yet. Mom’s a saint.”
“She is. This was a great idea, giving us some time alone , but …”
“Yeah, I miss them, too. Three more days. Can you put up with it being just you and me for that long?”
“Probably. If one of these toys doesn’t fucking kill me in the meantime.”
I pulled him in a little closer. “Yeah, well, it’s not you that’s gonna get The Monster in your near future, is it?”
He gave out the most deliciously dirty chuckle and let his fingers wander closer to my near future. “It’ll give you a taste of what I have to deal with every tme you fuck me. Jesus, yesterday in the bathroom …”
“Yeah, that was good.”
“It was fucking amazing.” He rolled onto his back, but shuffled in tight to close the gap he’d created. “I fucking love mirrors.”
I realised he was staring at the ceiling, watching our reflections, and yeah, he had a point. The light silk sheet took on the form of our bodies perfectly, the lamplight accentuating our curves, and in particular, the softened mound of his cock, which was casting an impressive shadow, despite its depleted state. I gave it a rub through the silk, and immediately, he placed his hand on top of mine, heat radiating through the fabric. He returned the favour, gripping me with those delicate, nimble fingers, and suddenly, I crossed the boundary between interested and impatient, realising just how long it had been since my last orgasm - orgasms. I kissed him full on the lips and muttered into his open mouth.
“I need to come.”
He knew what I was in for - he’d chosen the toys, after all, and this one, I remember, caught his attention in particular. I offered to swap it out for the last but one of his selections, but he seemed hell bent on seeing me cope with this, the toy that Julie had pointed out to us as being the must-have in any man’s arsenal (ass-enal?) of sexual playthings. He retrieved the somewhat-crispy towel from the floor and made me lay on it, on my front, trapping my very eager dick against the mattress. I turned my head to watch him move the camera to the side of the bed, change the disc and then he straddled my calves without putting more than the merest weight on them. He drizzled me with more of that sensuous almond oil, and massaged my butt until I felt that I had melted to become part of the bed.
His touch on me was firm, rhythmic and relaxing, but at the same time, as hot as hell. His stance meant that my legs were pressed close together, my ass cheeks, too, and it felt so good when he eased his fingers into my crack to spread the warm, satiny lube. Every now and then, his fingers went a little deeper, entering me the smallest amount, and for the briefest moment. It felt divine, and although I was in need of release, I could tolerate this for a while yet, maybe forever. Sometimes, he rubbed higher, over my shoulders and out to my sides, and when he did that, I could feel his heat lifting from my legs, hear him moaning softly as the oil spread over my skin with a quiet, liquid sound. Leaning forward over me, he reached for the toy in question, put new batteries into the power unit and tried it out, draped over my back.
We both gasped. The sensation on the outside of my body was pretty intense. Inside, amplified, was going to be insane. This was a new incarnation of one of our absolute favourite toys / methods of torturing each other - a long string of mini-ManTeasers, each one soft and squashy, with a highly textured surface and a wicked throbbing action that skittered around in a way that reminded me of a Mexican jumping bean - only there were twenty of them, much smaller, and spaced out to form a chain. This was our beloved, long-lost anal beads but with added attitude, and that had to be a good thing. The power of the vibration was adjustable - Billie had tried them on full speed at this testing stage, but even so, the gentlest setting was still going to make me sit up and take notice. Billie trailed them over my ass and let them drop into a coil of buzzing goodness on the back of my thighs before turning them off and hitting the lube again.
His middle finger entered me a couple of times, knuckle deep, the third time, pressing the first Teaser into me. They were slightly different sizes, and this one was the smallest, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t make its presence felt. He continued like that until I had nine or ten in place, and then flicked the switch. They’d sort of bunched up inside me, and the concentrated vibration was obscenely good. Lying on my front, their weight was on my prostate, and when he used his fingers again, Billie pressed down to increase the sensation. I yelped, but he knew it was not pain that made me so vocal. He kissed my ass cheek and proceeded to post a half-dozen more into my trembling body, with the same care as before. and sounding equally as turned-on as I was.
“How’s that feel, Baby?” His voice was low, quavering, like it is when he’s about to blow. I almost expected him to do just that, becaue his cock was so hard and heavy against my thigh.
“Full. Feels full.”
“So that’s enough, or can you take more?”
“Fuck, Billie …”
“There’re five left.” He explored me with not one, but two fingers, and it felt like my cock was trying to lever me upright. The throb in my ass shifted, and Billie made my decision for me. “There’s room for a couple more. Relax, Darling.”
I tried, I really did, but there was so much going on down there, relaxing was a struggle. Cooing words of encouragement, he took his time, making sure I didn’t spontaneously combust. And he never was good at math - I got four more, which even in my distracted state I knew left just one, the biggest of the lot, plus the power control, which I had sort of figured was NOT going in. I braced myself for the stretch that never came, because, rather than try to cram that last sphere in as well, Billie wedged it between my squashed butt-cheeks to rest againt my hole, and notched the toy up to its next speed.
Fuck, I loved it so much. That last Teaser made all the difference, stimulating me inside and out, and for the next few minutes, Billie kneaded my ass, pressing the cheeks together or spreading me wide to roll the spiky ball under his cupped palm, in slow, delicious circles. My pleasure was almost complete, gorgeous little practice orgasms rippling through me, and then I felt his weight lift. He knelt beside me, and smiled benignly, and when he spoke, his voice came from a much deeper place than usual.
“Okay so far, Angel?”
“Jesus, yes. Feels awesome.”
“Good. Awesome is perfect.”
“Billie …. “ I tried t sound super-sexy, but my voice came out as more of a squeak. He gsve me a brief ‘wtf’ look, and I cleared my throat for a more erotic effect. “Now would be such a great time to try the flogger on me.”
“Fuck …. “
“Can we, I mean, will you?”
His eyes were sparkling, brighter and wider than normal, and at that moment, I think he would have agreed to absolutely anything, just to please me. To be honest, what I was proposing was going to please him, too, so his response was a bit of a no-brainer, which was lucky, because for both of us, our mental capacity was approximately zero right now. He grabbed my hand, nodded, and opened hia mouth for a deal-sealing kiss.