Cover Me: Fogle and Stiles get dirty
Title: Cover me
Pairing: Fogle & Stiles
Rating: 18
Summary: Crack-PWP
Author's Notes: As requested by
avon_09, cracky PWP from Time & Punishment, Man In Poly and TGaF.
This is unbetaed so mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Fogle and Stiles were adjusting to a new pace of living. They’d left the post-modern hustle of Milton Keynes and moved to Cumbria. Rolling around the hills and hiding from sheep had kept them occupied for a few months. Sadly, none of the sheep ever turned out to be snipers, so the two men did what any semi-retired Torchwood agents would do and worked out their pent-up aggression in the bedroom.
Fogle had been the first to crack. After a few weeks of downright cosy living, he had decided he needed a spark of the old-time danger.
Stiles was normally the first to get up. On this particular morning, Fogle beat him to it. He prepared carefully. First things first, he made himself a cup of builder’s tea and had a think. He tried various poses. He draped himself over the stairs in what he hoped would be a seductive look. After a few minutes of chafing his arse on the stair carpet, Fogle decided Stiles might, in his morning daze, step on his head or his knackers and so he moved to the sofa. He lay over the cushions, working his cock with lubed fingers. He spread his legs and waited. He played with himself a little more. What was he in the mood for…? Rough sex. He pondered….
“Better sort out the trademan’s entrance,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed the lube and tried to work himself open whilst retaining his recumbent pose. It didn’t really work. Stiles would put his bollocks in the blender if he got lube on the paisley scatter cushions.
Fogle leaned forward, resting one hand on the coffee table and pushed a finger inside himself. The thought of Stiles finding him like this began to excite him. He slicked himself a little more, slipping in a second finger. His cock bobbed and he stroked it a little….oh fuck.
From upstairs, Fogle heard the sound of the toilet flushing. Footsteps… oh shit! He grabbed the lube and ran into the kitchen in a blind panic. It was only then, that Fogle wondered why he was running. He wanted Stiles to find him, didn’t he?
As he heard footfalls on the stairs, Fogle realised he had no time to get back to the sofa. The direct approach would have to do. He draped himself over the kitchen table, leaning on his elbows. His arse was tilted upwards, towards the kitchen door. If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was.
The curtains were being drawn next door…Fogle could hear them being dragged across the rails. ‘Fuck the curtains’, he thought and then decided to store that thought for another day. The kitchen door opened and Fogle heard a gasp.
“Cover me, Stiles!” he shouted in a shaky voice.
“Erm…I’ll go get him,” Maldwyn replied, with a slight chuckle. “Wait there!”
Fogle closed his eyes. How had he forgotten about Maldy? He sighed. More lube. He slicked his fingers, reached behind him and worked them back inside. That felt good. He looked down at his cock, it was still nice, hard and slightly shiny. He stopped for a moment. More lube.
So caught up was Fogle in lubrication, that he missed Stiles’ entrance.
“What the..?”
“Stiles!” Fogle yelled. He removed his fingers and waggled his arse. “Fuver me!”
“Sorry?” Stiles said sardonically, letting his silk pyjama bottoms slide soundlessly to the floor.
“Fuck me!” Fogle shouted.
“You certainly seem prepared.” Stiles slapped his lover’s backside.
“Always; cocked and loaded,” Fogle said, stroking his dick for added emphasis.
“Is there any lube left?” Stiles asked sceptically. Fogle knew he’d see lube smothered between his buttocks…he never did anything in half measures. He proffered the bottle, but Stiles ignored it.
“Look out, behind you,” Stiles whispered. Fogle turned to see his lover stood, his crotch forward. Stiles pointed to his cock. “Cover me, baby.”
“Yeah,” Fogle replied, his voice dripping with lust. “Let me oil your weapon.” He tipped lube into his fingers and ran them down the length of Stiles’ cock. He twisted his grip, smothering lube over Stiles’ lovely hairy balls. He was rewarded with a groan and his lover thrusting into his hand. He was quite pleased with his efforts, speeding his strokes until Stiles shouted.
“Freeze!” Stiles put his hand over Fogle’s. “You don’t want me to go off half cock, do you?” Stiles gasped. “Now turn around and put your hands on the table.”
Fogle did as he was asked. He pushed his backside out. Stiles’ pulled his buttocks apart and he moaned.
“Do it, Stiles.” He dug his fingernails into the table. He felt the blunt head of Stiles’ cock at his entrance and groaned. A gentle, tender glide and he was filled to the hilt. He knew Stiles would wait until Fogle was accustomed to the sensation but today, he was in no mood to wait.
“Move it!” Fogle yelled, his voice cracking. “Do it to me big boy, hard and rough. I want you to fuck me so hard I’m picking splinters out of my stomach for a week!”
Those words worked better than Viagra. No sooner had he said them and he was pushed over the table by the force of Stiles’ first thrust. The second made him shout out loud.
“Oh you incredible fucker!” Fogle encouraged his lover.
“Does my weapon feel good sheathed?” Stiles asked, treating Fogle to a number of short, fast thrusts.
“Fuck yes…” Fogle whimpered. He tried to move his hand to touch his cock, but Stiles changed the angle of attack and sent him sprawling over the tabletop. He sighed. It was no good. “Hold it!”
Stiles stopped moving.
“No, I mean hold it…my cock!” Fogle said pushing himself back onto Stiles. “I’ve got blue balls and I need you to get really hands on!”
Stiles slithered a hand to Fogle’s dick. “You feel….wet.” He said approvingly. “I like a man who keeps his… fuck! We’ve already done that line, Fogle!” He thrust hard into his lover three times with frustration.
“Think of…wood baby,” Fogle gasped, unsure as to whether to thrust forwards or back.
“Oh god yes!” Stiles simpered. “I’m really admiring the feel of your truncheon!”
“Yes, fuck yes!” Fogle could almost cry.
“I’m….I’m really loaded now, Fogle,” Stiles said, thrusting harder, faster.
“Shoot me, Stiles,” Fogle yelled. “Want to feel you cover me!”
“That line never gets old,” Stiles said, withdrawing his cock and covering Fogle’s backside.
“Aah!” sighed Fogle, feeling Stiles’ spunk drip from his buttocks. “Where do you want me?”
“I want you in my mouth….” Stiles began to say, dropping to his knees. Fogle had turned and used his thumb to open his partner’s mouth wider.
“Shut the fuck up,” he moaned, leaning back as Stiles sucked his cock hard. “You’re going down….”
Fogle rolled his hips, rubbing his lover’s come into his bum and over his fingers. He lifted them to his mouth, looking down to catch Stiles’ eye as he sucked his fingers clean. The taste, the look, the feel of Stiles, who had his hand around Fogle’s balls and his tongue rubbing the underside of his cock…it was all too much. He came hard.
“Oh and I’m empty,” Fogle said, sliding down the side of the table. He landed on his backside, his face level with Stiles and he kissed him hard.
When he came up for air, he had just one question.
“Where next?”
Pairing: Fogle & Stiles
Rating: 18
Summary: Crack-PWP
Author's Notes: As requested by
avon_09, cracky PWP from Time & Punishment, Man In Poly and TGaF.
This is unbetaed so mistakes are mine and mine alone.
Fogle and Stiles were adjusting to a new pace of living. They’d left the post-modern hustle of Milton Keynes and moved to Cumbria. Rolling around the hills and hiding from sheep had kept them occupied for a few months. Sadly, none of the sheep ever turned out to be snipers, so the two men did what any semi-retired Torchwood agents would do and worked out their pent-up aggression in the bedroom.
Fogle had been the first to crack. After a few weeks of downright cosy living, he had decided he needed a spark of the old-time danger.
Stiles was normally the first to get up. On this particular morning, Fogle beat him to it. He prepared carefully. First things first, he made himself a cup of builder’s tea and had a think. He tried various poses. He draped himself over the stairs in what he hoped would be a seductive look. After a few minutes of chafing his arse on the stair carpet, Fogle decided Stiles might, in his morning daze, step on his head or his knackers and so he moved to the sofa. He lay over the cushions, working his cock with lubed fingers. He spread his legs and waited. He played with himself a little more. What was he in the mood for…? Rough sex. He pondered….
“Better sort out the trademan’s entrance,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed the lube and tried to work himself open whilst retaining his recumbent pose. It didn’t really work. Stiles would put his bollocks in the blender if he got lube on the paisley scatter cushions.
Fogle leaned forward, resting one hand on the coffee table and pushed a finger inside himself. The thought of Stiles finding him like this began to excite him. He slicked himself a little more, slipping in a second finger. His cock bobbed and he stroked it a little….oh fuck.
From upstairs, Fogle heard the sound of the toilet flushing. Footsteps… oh shit! He grabbed the lube and ran into the kitchen in a blind panic. It was only then, that Fogle wondered why he was running. He wanted Stiles to find him, didn’t he?
As he heard footfalls on the stairs, Fogle realised he had no time to get back to the sofa. The direct approach would have to do. He draped himself over the kitchen table, leaning on his elbows. His arse was tilted upwards, towards the kitchen door. If that wasn’t an invitation, he didn’t know what was.
The curtains were being drawn next door…Fogle could hear them being dragged across the rails. ‘Fuck the curtains’, he thought and then decided to store that thought for another day. The kitchen door opened and Fogle heard a gasp.
“Cover me, Stiles!” he shouted in a shaky voice.
“Erm…I’ll go get him,” Maldwyn replied, with a slight chuckle. “Wait there!”
Fogle closed his eyes. How had he forgotten about Maldy? He sighed. More lube. He slicked his fingers, reached behind him and worked them back inside. That felt good. He looked down at his cock, it was still nice, hard and slightly shiny. He stopped for a moment. More lube.
So caught up was Fogle in lubrication, that he missed Stiles’ entrance.
“What the..?”
“Stiles!” Fogle yelled. He removed his fingers and waggled his arse. “Fuver me!”
“Sorry?” Stiles said sardonically, letting his silk pyjama bottoms slide soundlessly to the floor.
“Fuck me!” Fogle shouted.
“You certainly seem prepared.” Stiles slapped his lover’s backside.
“Always; cocked and loaded,” Fogle said, stroking his dick for added emphasis.
“Is there any lube left?” Stiles asked sceptically. Fogle knew he’d see lube smothered between his buttocks…he never did anything in half measures. He proffered the bottle, but Stiles ignored it.
“Look out, behind you,” Stiles whispered. Fogle turned to see his lover stood, his crotch forward. Stiles pointed to his cock. “Cover me, baby.”
“Yeah,” Fogle replied, his voice dripping with lust. “Let me oil your weapon.” He tipped lube into his fingers and ran them down the length of Stiles’ cock. He twisted his grip, smothering lube over Stiles’ lovely hairy balls. He was rewarded with a groan and his lover thrusting into his hand. He was quite pleased with his efforts, speeding his strokes until Stiles shouted.
“Freeze!” Stiles put his hand over Fogle’s. “You don’t want me to go off half cock, do you?” Stiles gasped. “Now turn around and put your hands on the table.”
Fogle did as he was asked. He pushed his backside out. Stiles’ pulled his buttocks apart and he moaned.
“Do it, Stiles.” He dug his fingernails into the table. He felt the blunt head of Stiles’ cock at his entrance and groaned. A gentle, tender glide and he was filled to the hilt. He knew Stiles would wait until Fogle was accustomed to the sensation but today, he was in no mood to wait.
“Move it!” Fogle yelled, his voice cracking. “Do it to me big boy, hard and rough. I want you to fuck me so hard I’m picking splinters out of my stomach for a week!”
Those words worked better than Viagra. No sooner had he said them and he was pushed over the table by the force of Stiles’ first thrust. The second made him shout out loud.
“Oh you incredible fucker!” Fogle encouraged his lover.
“Does my weapon feel good sheathed?” Stiles asked, treating Fogle to a number of short, fast thrusts.
“Fuck yes…” Fogle whimpered. He tried to move his hand to touch his cock, but Stiles changed the angle of attack and sent him sprawling over the tabletop. He sighed. It was no good. “Hold it!”
Stiles stopped moving.
“No, I mean hold it…my cock!” Fogle said pushing himself back onto Stiles. “I’ve got blue balls and I need you to get really hands on!”
Stiles slithered a hand to Fogle’s dick. “You feel….wet.” He said approvingly. “I like a man who keeps his… fuck! We’ve already done that line, Fogle!” He thrust hard into his lover three times with frustration.
“Think of…wood baby,” Fogle gasped, unsure as to whether to thrust forwards or back.
“Oh god yes!” Stiles simpered. “I’m really admiring the feel of your truncheon!”
“Yes, fuck yes!” Fogle could almost cry.
“I’m….I’m really loaded now, Fogle,” Stiles said, thrusting harder, faster.
“Shoot me, Stiles,” Fogle yelled. “Want to feel you cover me!”
“That line never gets old,” Stiles said, withdrawing his cock and covering Fogle’s backside.
“Aah!” sighed Fogle, feeling Stiles’ spunk drip from his buttocks. “Where do you want me?”
“I want you in my mouth….” Stiles began to say, dropping to his knees. Fogle had turned and used his thumb to open his partner’s mouth wider.
“Shut the fuck up,” he moaned, leaning back as Stiles sucked his cock hard. “You’re going down….”
Fogle rolled his hips, rubbing his lover’s come into his bum and over his fingers. He lifted them to his mouth, looking down to catch Stiles’ eye as he sucked his fingers clean. The taste, the look, the feel of Stiles, who had his hand around Fogle’s balls and his tongue rubbing the underside of his cock…it was all too much. He came hard.
“Oh and I’m empty,” Fogle said, sliding down the side of the table. He landed on his backside, his face level with Stiles and he kissed him hard.
When he came up for air, he had just one question.
“Where next?”