Fic - Dressing Down (LOM)
TITLE: Dressing Down
AUTHOR: Andromeda
FANDOM: Life on Mars
RATING: Brown Cortina for SMUT!
WORD COUNT: 690 words
EMAIL: fiandyfic@livejournal.com
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I've finished the rough draft of my spook_me Hallowe'en fic and can't stop writing just in case I dry up and, well, it's still Porntober, right? For dorsetgirl, who put this rather pretty image in my head to start with. Unbeta'd, concrit welcome.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Dressing Down
Sam had finally got tired of replacing the rather shoddy lock on his door and given Gene a key. Ergo, Sam wanted Gene to use that key. That was Gene's excuse and he was bloody-well going to stick to it.
Not that he was thinking too much about anything, having been arrested in his entry to Sam's bedsit by the sight of Sam standing in the middle of the small room, back to the door, both front and back visible due to the full-length mirror in front of him. Gene let the breath he'd taken in as preparation for yelling at his DI to 'move his blooming arse' out in a silent whoosh as he took in exactly what Sam was wearing, what he was not wearing and, more importantly, exactly what he was doing.
Gently, so gently, he closed the door behind him, the snick of the lock unheard over the radio, which was playing some sort of, well, non-too-musical noise. And Sam was so taken up in his own little world that he didn't notice the figure standing well behind him.
Sam was naked from the waist up, eyes closed and head thrown back, emphasising the long lines of his neck. His hands caressed his hairless chest, fingertips pinching the small, brown nipples as they grew hard under the attention.
But it was his lower half that had so captured Gene's attention. Sam's long, lean legs were encased in fishnet stockings, red patent stiletto-heeled shoes making them look even longer, emphasising the calves and causing Sam's bottom to stick out, provocatively. The stockings were held up by a plain suspender belt, the black straps stark against the pale skin, framing perfectly the bulge of Sam's erection which was inadequately encased in a dark red silk posing pouch.
The silky material, trimmed with black lace, was already stained dark with precum as one hand drifted lower, caressing the hollow stomach, toying with the lace trim, Sam's hips rotating and gently jerking to the sound of the music on the radio.
Mouth dry, Gene could only watch as the other man finally released his straining cock, rubbing a calloused thumb over the tip before grasping it in one tight fist, the hip movements wilder now as he jerked himself off. The other hand alternately pinching and pulling at his nipples and reaching down to caress his balls, still encased in the red silk.
It was scant minutes, or an eternity, Gene stood paralysed at the door, his own cock rock hard in his pants as he watched his Inspector finally come in hard spurts, groaning inarticulately, the milky-white fluid splattering across his hands and over his chest.
Gene had to go, had to sort himself out before he was discovered, but he still stood frozen as Sam brought a sticky hand up to his own mouth, tongue snaking out to taste the bitter liquid. With his own groan, Gene unbent enough to press the heel of his hand against his own straining cock.
Sam heard it. His eyes flew open and stared at the reflection of Gene in the mirror. As their eyes met, Gene felt a moment of panic, but a knowing smile crept across Sam's face has he took in the evidence of Gene's lust. Slowly, deliberately, Sam licked his own hand clean before turning and stalking over to the door where Gene still stood, warily watching for what the other man would do next.
Standing close, so close that Gene could smell Sam's musky scent, Sam put his hand over Gene's erection, gripping it tight through the worsted cloth. And that's all it took. Gene moaned Sam's name as he came hard in his pants, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager.
Recovering enough to open his eyes, Gene saw Sam grin ruefully, and his heart plummeted. Strange that it was, he'd already started to entertain the notion of a repeat performance of some kind or other.
Then Sam kissed his lips, briefly. "Well, that was over rather quickly," he said, "let's get these wet trousers off you, Guv, and we can try again."
Gene was definitely okay with that suggestion.
The End
AUTHOR: Andromeda
FANDOM: Life on Mars
RATING: Brown Cortina for SMUT!
WORD COUNT: 690 words
EMAIL: fiandyfic@livejournal.com
AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I've finished the rough draft of my spook_me Hallowe'en fic and can't stop writing just in case I dry up and, well, it's still Porntober, right? For dorsetgirl, who put this rather pretty image in my head to start with. Unbeta'd, concrit welcome.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made.
Dressing Down
Sam had finally got tired of replacing the rather shoddy lock on his door and given Gene a key. Ergo, Sam wanted Gene to use that key. That was Gene's excuse and he was bloody-well going to stick to it.
Not that he was thinking too much about anything, having been arrested in his entry to Sam's bedsit by the sight of Sam standing in the middle of the small room, back to the door, both front and back visible due to the full-length mirror in front of him. Gene let the breath he'd taken in as preparation for yelling at his DI to 'move his blooming arse' out in a silent whoosh as he took in exactly what Sam was wearing, what he was not wearing and, more importantly, exactly what he was doing.
Gently, so gently, he closed the door behind him, the snick of the lock unheard over the radio, which was playing some sort of, well, non-too-musical noise. And Sam was so taken up in his own little world that he didn't notice the figure standing well behind him.
Sam was naked from the waist up, eyes closed and head thrown back, emphasising the long lines of his neck. His hands caressed his hairless chest, fingertips pinching the small, brown nipples as they grew hard under the attention.
But it was his lower half that had so captured Gene's attention. Sam's long, lean legs were encased in fishnet stockings, red patent stiletto-heeled shoes making them look even longer, emphasising the calves and causing Sam's bottom to stick out, provocatively. The stockings were held up by a plain suspender belt, the black straps stark against the pale skin, framing perfectly the bulge of Sam's erection which was inadequately encased in a dark red silk posing pouch.
The silky material, trimmed with black lace, was already stained dark with precum as one hand drifted lower, caressing the hollow stomach, toying with the lace trim, Sam's hips rotating and gently jerking to the sound of the music on the radio.
Mouth dry, Gene could only watch as the other man finally released his straining cock, rubbing a calloused thumb over the tip before grasping it in one tight fist, the hip movements wilder now as he jerked himself off. The other hand alternately pinching and pulling at his nipples and reaching down to caress his balls, still encased in the red silk.
It was scant minutes, or an eternity, Gene stood paralysed at the door, his own cock rock hard in his pants as he watched his Inspector finally come in hard spurts, groaning inarticulately, the milky-white fluid splattering across his hands and over his chest.
Gene had to go, had to sort himself out before he was discovered, but he still stood frozen as Sam brought a sticky hand up to his own mouth, tongue snaking out to taste the bitter liquid. With his own groan, Gene unbent enough to press the heel of his hand against his own straining cock.
Sam heard it. His eyes flew open and stared at the reflection of Gene in the mirror. As their eyes met, Gene felt a moment of panic, but a knowing smile crept across Sam's face has he took in the evidence of Gene's lust. Slowly, deliberately, Sam licked his own hand clean before turning and stalking over to the door where Gene still stood, warily watching for what the other man would do next.
Standing close, so close that Gene could smell Sam's musky scent, Sam put his hand over Gene's erection, gripping it tight through the worsted cloth. And that's all it took. Gene moaned Sam's name as he came hard in his pants, something he hadn't done since he was a teenager.
Recovering enough to open his eyes, Gene saw Sam grin ruefully, and his heart plummeted. Strange that it was, he'd already started to entertain the notion of a repeat performance of some kind or other.
Then Sam kissed his lips, briefly. "Well, that was over rather quickly," he said, "let's get these wet trousers off you, Guv, and we can try again."
Gene was definitely okay with that suggestion.
The End