Walk All Over You part 2/3greenhoodloxleyApril 15 2012, 22:30:22 UTC
“And what exactly makes you say that?” Carlisle's eyes move from Ripley's face to his body, taking in his stance, everything, at a quick glance.
“I think I know how you like it to be played.” Ripley says roughly.
“You could be wrong.” Carlisle states.
“Yeah, but I'm not, am I?” Ripley takes that moment to slip his hand between the detective's legs. Just for a wee moment. Just enough to cup him and let the man know that he's had his bits pressed. “You like that, eh? Like being taken advantage of? Well, tough shit.” He stepped back.
“Didn't think you were the type to back down, Holden.”
“Oh, I'm not.” Ripley shakes his head. He's still keeping an eye on all the near customers in the vicinity. So far no one has a bloody clue to what's going on in the corner of his arcade. And that's the way Ripley prefers it.
“Stick your hand down your trousers.”
“What?”
“You heard.”
There's a moment of hesitation during which Peter Carlisle thinks about it...and then does it...his long slender hand moves down inside the waistband of his trousers. Ripley follows the movement avidly.
“What you're waiting for?” He growls at last. “Instructions? Never wanked yourself off before, inspector?”
“Yeah. Well...” Carlisle licks his lips and waits.
Walk All Over You part 3/3greenhoodloxleyApril 15 2012, 22:32:01 UTC
“Oh.” Ripley gets it then. His tune. “Slowly. Just a bit of pressure, like a dancer's pressing on your palm.”
“Sorry?” Carlisle looks at him bewildered. At that, Ripley simply gives up.
“Stroke yourself, nice and easy, with a bit of tension but still a tiny bit of give.”
“Ahh.” Carlisle nods his head. That he gets. His hand moves in his trousers as Ripley watches unimpressed.
“That's not...” He leans in, unfastening the man's trousers easily, pulling them down to his thighs. Carlisle's thin white shorts are not quite what Ripley expected, but the tip of the man's cock, jutting out from the gap between them is exactly what he expected.
“Squeeze the head gently then. Just a bit of a rub.”
Carlisle raises his eyebrow again, but he does it. His fingers rubbing slowly over the head of his cock as his eyes stay focused on Ripley's.
“Spread your legs a bit more.” Ripley directs. He likes a bit of a show and Carlisle's giving him one at least, leaning insolently against the console as he strokes himself lazily. Ripley folds his arms across his chest. “Is that the best you got?”
Carlisle pauses. “Look,”
“Stick out your hand.”
Slowly Carlisle holds out his hand and Ripley spits in the center of his palm. “There. Now do it.”
There's a dull red flush flooding Carlisle's ears as he applies Ripley's saliva to his cock. He moves a little faster now, fingers tightening as he strokes. His lips part in concentration, the tip of his tongue protruding slightly.
Just as he's getting close, panting slightly, hand moving quicker in anticipation, Ripley drawls, “Slow it down, eh, it's not a bloody competition.”
Carlisle glares at him, but his pace slackens.
Ripley stands there, just smirking at him. He's not lost his touch at any rate. There's something appealing about the copper like this, all splayed open for him, thighs open, his long coat shielding him on either side.
“Pull your coat open more.”
Carlise shoves each lapel open wider with his free hand. “Anything else you want?”
“Yeah...” Ripley cocks his head, like he's thinking about it. “You. On your knees. That's how I want to see you come.” He'd like to see more than that, but it'll do for now.
Carlisle licks his lips, swallows, and slowly lowers himself to his knees.
Ripley doesn't give him any more instruction that. He slips his hands in his pockets and just watches. Carlise's so close, Ripley can taste it. The strain on the man's face as he works his cock, face upturned to Ripley.
Only when he comes, does Carlise turn his face away, toward the collar of his coat.
Ripley cracks his gum loudly. “Not bad...but it needs a little work before I'd put you on a stage.”
Carlise snorts. Wiping his hand casually on the inside of his trousers, he pulls them up and stands. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Any time.” Ripley stands there, still watching as Carlisle finally walks away. This time he doesn't come back.
“And what exactly makes you say that?” Carlisle's eyes move from Ripley's face to his body, taking in his stance, everything, at a quick glance.
“I think I know how you like it to be played.” Ripley says roughly.
“You could be wrong.” Carlisle states.
“Yeah, but I'm not, am I?” Ripley takes that moment to slip his hand between the detective's legs. Just for a wee moment. Just enough to cup him and let the man know that he's had his bits pressed. “You like that, eh? Like being taken advantage of? Well, tough shit.” He stepped back.
“Didn't think you were the type to back down, Holden.”
“Oh, I'm not.” Ripley shakes his head. He's still keeping an eye on all the near customers in the vicinity. So far no one has a bloody clue to what's going on in the corner of his arcade. And that's the way Ripley prefers it.
“Stick your hand down your trousers.”
“What?”
“You heard.”
There's a moment of hesitation during which Peter Carlisle thinks about it...and then does it...his long slender hand moves down inside the waistband of his trousers. Ripley follows the movement avidly.
“What you're waiting for?” He growls at last. “Instructions? Never wanked yourself off before, inspector?”
“Yeah. Well...” Carlisle licks his lips and waits.
Reply
“Sorry?” Carlisle looks at him bewildered. At that, Ripley simply gives up.
“Stroke yourself, nice and easy, with a bit of tension but still a tiny bit of give.”
“Ahh.” Carlisle nods his head. That he gets. His hand moves in his trousers as Ripley watches unimpressed.
“That's not...” He leans in, unfastening the man's trousers easily, pulling them down to his thighs. Carlisle's thin white shorts are not quite what Ripley expected, but the tip of the man's cock, jutting out from the gap between them is exactly what he expected.
“Squeeze the head gently then. Just a bit of a rub.”
Carlisle raises his eyebrow again, but he does it. His fingers rubbing slowly over the head of his cock as his eyes stay focused on Ripley's.
“Spread your legs a bit more.” Ripley directs. He likes a bit of a show and Carlisle's giving him one at least, leaning insolently against the console as he strokes himself lazily. Ripley folds his arms across his chest. “Is that the best you got?”
Carlisle pauses. “Look,”
“Stick out your hand.”
Slowly Carlisle holds out his hand and Ripley spits in the center of his palm. “There. Now do it.”
There's a dull red flush flooding Carlisle's ears as he applies Ripley's saliva to his cock. He moves a little faster now, fingers tightening as he strokes. His lips part in concentration, the tip of his tongue protruding slightly.
Just as he's getting close, panting slightly, hand moving quicker in anticipation, Ripley drawls, “Slow it down, eh, it's not a bloody competition.”
Carlisle glares at him, but his pace slackens.
Ripley stands there, just smirking at him. He's not lost his touch at any rate. There's something appealing about the copper like this, all splayed open for him, thighs open, his long coat shielding him on either side.
“Pull your coat open more.”
Carlise shoves each lapel open wider with his free hand. “Anything else you want?”
“Yeah...” Ripley cocks his head, like he's thinking about it. “You. On your knees. That's how I want to see you come.” He'd like to see more than that, but it'll do for now.
Carlisle licks his lips, swallows, and slowly lowers himself to his knees.
Ripley doesn't give him any more instruction that. He slips his hands in his pockets and just watches. Carlise's so close, Ripley can taste it. The strain on the man's face as he works his cock, face upturned to Ripley.
Only when he comes, does Carlise turn his face away, toward the collar of his coat.
Ripley cracks his gum loudly. “Not bad...but it needs a little work before I'd put you on a stage.”
Carlise snorts. Wiping his hand casually on the inside of his trousers, he pulls them up and stands. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Any time.” Ripley stands there, still watching as Carlisle finally walks away. This time he doesn't come back.
Reply
Blackpool: Ripley Holden/Peter Carlisle - Voyeurism and vision themes/Semi-public sex.
Reply
wow. ahem.
*waits for coherent thought to return*
I am so glad I put this fandom and pairing on my list! thank you very much - this is terrific, all the way from the title to the ending.
*opens a window to let in some cool air*
Reply
Maybe this will bring the show/pairing to more attention so more people could write them because there needs to be more Blackpool fic in the world.
Reply
*fans self again*
Reply
Leave a comment