LFODH: Feels Like the First Time, Only Better
Title: Feels Like the First Time, Only Better
Author: CPWatcher
Fandom: Live Free or Die Hard (Die Hard 4)
Pairing/character: John McClane/Matt Farrell, John McClane/Holly McClane, John McClane/OFC, John McClane/OMC/OFC
Rating: FRAO
Prompt: Not directly related to any of the ficathon prompts
Kink: John’s first time with a man.
Prompter: Written for the hard4brains July 4 ficathon
Notes/Warnings: Slash, and ah… does p0rn count as a warning?
Beta: By the wonderful irena_adler a while ago. But then I poked it with a stick later, so I probably goofed a few things up.
A.N.: I don't own them, someone else does. No harm intended, no money made.
Feels Like the First Time, Only Better
The first time he did it, this, was on his honeymoon in Hawaii.
They’d been there for three days, never even leaving the hotel room. Holly had been quite adventurous back then and extremely bendy. It had happened by accident; at least he’d thought so. They were drunk, having gone out to the luau to consume as much food and alcohol as possible to get their strength back. Holly had kept him hard and on edge all during the outing, sitting between his legs and rubbing her ass against him.
Immediately after they had gotten back into the room, John had pushed Holly back against the wall, pulled up her leg, slid her soaked panties out the way, and fucked her hard and fast. She climaxed twice on his cock before he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was shifting her when a finger rubbed against her asshole and she shuddered. She was breathing harshly into his neck as he touched her hole again. It was slightly moist from her sweat and he ran his fingers into her slick wetness and brought it back to her asshole. She didn’t protest so he slowly eased a finger inside and felt her clench tightly on his cock.
“JJJ-John,” Holly gasped.
“Fuck!” he groaned.
“Do you want to John?” He didn’t understand the question until she wiggled back on his finger and asked him again. “Do you want to fuck me there?”
And, well, shit, John wasn’t stupid. He’d heard stories, seen the porn. “Yeah, fuck, yeah.”
He gently pulled out of Holly, trying hard to will himself not to come. She skipped off to the bedroom, getting on hands and knees in the middle of the bed, legs spread wide. John had to squeeze his cock and balls sharply, as the sight of her tight, pink pucker sent a spike of lust straight through him. She’d picked up the KY and was sticking a slickened finger into her asshole.
“Damn, Holly, shit. Wait. Wait.” He took the tube from her and squirted jelly on his fingers and slid them easily into her ass. By the time he’d gotten three fingers inside, Holly had climaxed again and John was laying across her back, his cock rubbing along her thigh. When he finally slid into her tight heat, she was almost boneless beneath him, and he fucked her asshole hard and fast, driving to his climax.
She saved butt-fucking for special occasions, telling John she didn’t want him to get too used to it, as it was the exception and not the norm. Special occasions like his promotion, and her promotion, getting the new house, and their anniversaries.
The Nakatomi Towers thing wound up being a special occasion.
Once they were safe and sound, and pulling away in the limo Holly told Argyle to drive them around LA. Then she closed the privacy glass and proceeded to suck John’s cock like a pro.
“In my ass, John. Please,” Holly had begged.
“Can’t, too dry. Can’t. Shit.”
The privacy divider slid open and Argyle passed back a tube of lubricant and a box of condoms, and then silently closed the partition again.
John smirked, barely caring that they were being overheard. He loosened Holly quickly and then sank into her clutching heat, riding her deep, as the limo zoomed past the ocean.
Then there was the hijacking at Dulles Airport…
John had still been laughing as he watched the stranded airplanes use the burning wreckage of the terrorist plane for landing lights on the darkened runway. When her plane finally touched ground, and Holly was safe, she was all over John, clinging, rubbing, touching. He was still high on fucking adrenalin, so when she whispered in his ear she wanted him, needed him now, right now, he had Marvin drive them back to the tunnels under the airport.
“Come back in half an hour, Marvin” John told him. Holly had already turned to face the wall, spreading her legs wide, and hiking up her skirt. John called back over his shoulder. “Make that ten minutes.”
He had to use his spit and Holly’s wetness to make the anal passage almost slick enough, but neither of them minded. It was just all heat and tight and fast and good.
So John had kind of gotten used to ass-fucking after life or death situations with Holly.
He realized after the ‘Simon say’s’ bullshit with Zeus, that it wasn’t Holly’s life or death, but his own that had him horny as fuck. After all was said and done he and Zeus found themselves in a Canadian strip club, matching each other drink for drink. Just to fuck with the black man, John brought him a lap dance with a busty bleached blonde. Zeus returned the favor by getting him an ‘ebony dark sista’ to wiggle on his crotch. They called it even when the two pretty little Hispanic chicks asked them if they wanted a private dance.
How they ended up in the same fucking motel room, Zeus naked on his back on the bed, the stripper sliding up and down his shaft, John, equally naked, his stripper on the floor sucking his meat, he’d never know. But when he looked at the bed and saw Maria’s sweet tight brown asshole winking at him as Zeus fucked her cunt all he knew was that he wanted in, right now. Carmen caught his look and spoke quickly in Spanish. Maria lifted her head and looked over her shoulder to John. “Two cocks are always better than one.”
Within minutes John was buried to his balls in sweet heat, alternating a driving rhythm with Zeus into the moaning woman.
But all those times, and all those asses had absolutely nothing, nothing, on this.
This was the long, lean and very naked young male body kneeling on his bed, pale ass warm under John’s big hands.
This was John’s fingers, slick with lube, buried up to the hilt into the silky hot asshole.
This was the hoarse cry, the jerking body, the clenching heat when John touched some spot deep inside the kid, fuck, Matt, that he’d never found with any of the women he’d butt-fucked.
It all happened like this. It was a month after the fire sale, and the Kid had taken to dropping by on Friday nights with food. McClane knew he was getting old, and probably shouldn’t have drank half as much of the tequila the Kid had brought, but it tasted great with the Mexican take-out, and even better when the food was done. The bottle was almost empty when, in the blink of an eye, they’d gone from shooting the shit on the couch to Matt straddling his lap, tongue shoving insistently into John’s mouth. Matt did a fairly good impression of a snake, sliding down John’s body, licking his nipples after he pushed John’s shirt out the way. And then Matt sucked John’s cock like he couldn’t get enough. John, having never fucked a man before in his life, knew there was always a first time for everything.
John’s sharp “Bed, Kid” was met with a knowing smirk and an impromptu striptease as Matt slunk out of the room. John couldn’t shed his clothes fast enough, tripping over his jeans as he made for the bedroom. His cock, leading the way, jumped to attention, slapping against his stomach, when he saw Matt on hands and knees, seemingly presenting his ass for John’s inspection. John had climbed up on the bed, right between Matt’s legs and grabbed two big handfuls of the ass in front of him, squeezing and kneading until Matt groaned breathlessly.
And now, after all the prep, John’s cock straining to just pound into the heat that his fingers had just left, John positioned himself at Matt’s asshole. “You ready, Kid?” as John embedded himself deep into Matt’s ass, the first thrust of a hard, driving pace.
“Yeah, yeah, fuck, shit. Wait. Damn it McClane, you got a bus to catch or something?”
“WWW-What?” John asked, stuttering to a halt, buried in Matt’s tight channel.
“Shit, McClane. Like the Eagles song, take it easy, shit. I don’t mind a hard fuck every once in a while, but I’d like to be able to walk tomorrow. And besides, since this might not happen again once you’re sober, I’d like to savor the moment, if you know what I mean. Shit, isn’t it my generation that wants to rush, rush, rush?”
John huffed out a laugh. He’d never really taken the time to enjoy, no, he enjoyed the women’s asses, but he never savored the moment, never just took them nice and slow. It was always fast and hard and done, not knowing when or if they would change their mind.
John ran his hands up and down the sweat-slicked back slowly, gently. “Yeah Kid. I can take it easy. How about you savor this?” John pulled slowly back, leaving just the tip of his cock in Matt’s entrance, then eased ever so slowly back inside, feeling how Matt’s muscles clutched at his cock. He screwed his hips in a tight circle when he was buried deep, causing Matt to moan again and cry out sharply.
“Fuck. Yeah John. Yeah, yeah. John!”
It was delicious friction, the best John had ever felt. He closed his eyes for a moment and just let the sensations of smell, sound and touch wash over him, - the musky scent of sex, Matt’s groans and whimpers, the feel of Matt’s tight ass. John only increased his pace slightly when Matt tried to thrust back onto his cock. John stilled him with heavy hands holding Matt’s bony hips in place.
“Taking it easy, Kid. You just be still and take it. Shit, so fucking tight. So fucking good. Take it Matty, just take it.”
“John… John… John… Please… Touch me. Please, damn. Touch my cock.”
And that was another thing John had never had to do with the women. But John found that he was flexible. He wrapped his hand around Matt’s cock, feeling for the first time a dick other than his own. Matt was hard and hot and heavy and John knew he was close by the way Matt moaned and jerked in his hand. Four pulls in and the game was over as John felt Matt’s dick harden before the orgasm swamped the Kid.
Matt’s seed spilt hot over John’s pumping hand. Tightness, exquisite tightness, bordering on painful, gripped John’s cock, literally milking his orgasm out of him. He fell over onto Matt’s back, pushing him into the mattress John’s hips pumping furiously as he rode wave after wave of pure ecstasy. “Kid. Kid. KID!”
John slowly rolled both him and Matt to their sides as they gulped for air, hearts beating as fast as they were when that car had sailed through the air towards them, only to crash into the two cars bracketing them.
It was long minutes before either of them spoke. Time enough for John’s cock to slide from Matt’s ass. Time enough for their breathing to get back to a normal flow, their heart rates to a normal rhythm. Time enough for second thoughts and stilted apologies and half-hearted lies.
“I wasn’t drunk,” McClane stated.
Matt said nothing.
“I won’t be drunk the next time either,” John said, admitting to himself and the Kid that this wasn’t a one off.
Matt turned in John’s arms and kissed him deeply, hungrily, and whispered into John’s ear, “Walking is overrated anyway.”
~#~#~#~ end ~#~#~#~