Washing it Away, pt2hiddentimelordSeptember 27 2011, 11:19:56 UTC
I'm straight, thought Charley, desperate. I like girls. Girls like Amy. He took the wand again, tilting Peter's head. He looked so smooth, so much younger and relaxed as the water poured through his hair. Charley chased the spray with his fingers, running them through Peter's now clean, silky feeling locks.
Resetting the wand, he adjusted the spray to cover the two of them. He picked up a black loofah and a bottle of soap from a small basket in the corner of the shower. Old Spice, Charley noticed as he squeezed a measure into the loofah and rolled it in his hands.
He started with Peter's feet, avoiding his soles when Peter giggled, slumping against the tile. His legs twitched in response as Charley scrubbed higher, to his knees. Charley kept his eyes trained only where he was washing, avoiding looking at Peter's red trunks, soaking wet and clinging to his thighs, and his hips, and his -
Charley stood up, walking around him, trying to control his breathing. He squirted a little more soap in the loofah, and rolled it in his hands, lathering it. "A-almost done," said Charley. He was sure his voice wasn't that high normally.
He pressed the coarse material against Peter's shoulders and turned it in small circles. Peter moaned again, and Charley could feel his hands shaking as he washed the grime rubbed away to reveal the warm pink skin beneath. Another bolt of lust went straight to his crotch. He was getting hard now, and he backed his hips away from Peter's body so he wouldn't give himself away.
I am straight. I am totally straight.
Charley sighed, knowing he was lying to himself as he washed Peter's arms. First the left, then the right, and then he washed Peter's lower back. Peter arched against the contact, his hands squeezing his legs, humming low in his throat. Charley's face was burning as he touched Peter's jaw.
"Tilt your head again. Keep your eyes closed."
Peter complied, his eyes shut. Charley stroked his face with the loofah, in long, gentle motions. The soot, the dirt, the flecks of blood came away with the eyeliner, leaving his face smooth and clean. Water beaded and rolled off of his forehead, and Charley had to hold his breath as he stroked down to the front of Peter's neck.
Peter's eyes opened, watching him. He couldn't read the look in his eyes, but the gentle smoulder sent his heart racing.
Peter's hand reached up, ran his fingers through Charley's curls, and pulled him down. His lips were so much softer than he'd thought they'd been. As soft as Amy's.
Charley curled his arm around Peter's torso, the other hand on Peter's neck, the loofah still moving in gentle circles. When Peter's lips started to move against his, gentle and slow, Charley felt himself sinking towards him. The loofah slipped from his fingers, rolled over Peter's hips, hit the puddle of water flowing over the tiles.
Re: Washing it Away, pt3hiddentimelordSeptember 27 2011, 11:20:18 UTC
He ran his fingers over Peter's chest, tugging at his chest hair, brushed one of his nipples, which was hard. Peter sucked in a breath, and his hand tightened. Charley opened his mouth from a gentle swipe of Peter's tongue. Peter hummed low in his throat, causing gentle little vibrations in Charley's fingertips.
Every time Charley had imagined this (and oh, he'd imagined it so many times, as loath as he was to admit to that), he'd imagined Peter's kisses to be hard and demanding, not sweet and soft. His tongue was skilled against his, and Charley was sure it was obvious he was a total amateur, but it didn't stop the older man from drawing it even deeper, pulling Charley down harder.
Charley was half crouching now, resting some of his weight against Peter, his hand tracing lower, over his stomach. He felt the crease of his appendectomy scar, the soft fuzz around his navel. Then further, he touched the smooth fabric of his board shorts, which were tight.
Charley moaned now, squeezing Peter's hard on through the cloth. He rubbed and squeezed until Peter's hips began to flex into him. Charley wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do it. He undid the laces and pulled them until they were loose.
Peter pulled away, drawing in a deep breath as Charley's hand slipped under the band of his shorts, curious. He groaned, deep in his throat, as Charley kissed his neck, and touched him.
He was smooth, silky, and so hot under his palm. He didn't know what Peter liked, but he knew what felt good when he touched himself, so he did the same, wrapping his hand around the head of his cock, squeezing in time with Peter's thrusts.
He ran his tongue along the hard muscles in Peter's neck, tasting nothing but sweet skin and the faint aftertaste of the soap and water. He dragged his teeth a little, and increasing his rhythm, and Peter held onto him, cried out Charley's name as he came. The sound bounced off of the tiles, mixed with the gentle patter of the spraying water.
Charley shuddered as warm come spilled over his fingers. Peter twisted, hissing a little with the pain the movement must have brought, and wrapped his arms around Charley's shoulders.
Charley pulled away, sighing. The water sprayed over him, dripping, so warm and so soft.
Hoo-ray! So glad you enjoyed it! ^^ I tried to write something that involved Peter luring Charley into a bathtub, but it wouldn't come out right, and a shower scenario kept popping into my head :P
Resetting the wand, he adjusted the spray to cover the two of them. He picked up a black loofah and a bottle of soap from a small basket in the corner of the shower. Old Spice, Charley noticed as he squeezed a measure into the loofah and rolled it in his hands.
He started with Peter's feet, avoiding his soles when Peter giggled, slumping against the tile. His legs twitched in response as Charley scrubbed higher, to his knees. Charley kept his eyes trained only where he was washing, avoiding looking at Peter's red trunks, soaking wet and clinging to his thighs, and his hips, and his -
Charley stood up, walking around him, trying to control his breathing. He squirted a little more soap in the loofah, and rolled it in his hands, lathering it. "A-almost done," said Charley. He was sure his voice wasn't that high normally.
He pressed the coarse material against Peter's shoulders and turned it in small circles. Peter moaned again, and Charley could feel his hands shaking as he washed the grime rubbed away to reveal the warm pink skin beneath. Another bolt of lust went straight to his crotch. He was getting hard now, and he backed his hips away from Peter's body so he wouldn't give himself away.
I am straight. I am totally straight.
Charley sighed, knowing he was lying to himself as he washed Peter's arms. First the left, then the right, and then he washed Peter's lower back. Peter arched against the contact, his hands squeezing his legs, humming low in his throat. Charley's face was burning as he touched Peter's jaw.
"Tilt your head again. Keep your eyes closed."
Peter complied, his eyes shut. Charley stroked his face with the loofah, in long, gentle motions. The soot, the dirt, the flecks of blood came away with the eyeliner, leaving his face smooth and clean. Water beaded and rolled off of his forehead, and Charley had to hold his breath as he stroked down to the front of Peter's neck.
Peter's eyes opened, watching him. He couldn't read the look in his eyes, but the gentle smoulder sent his heart racing.
Peter's hand reached up, ran his fingers through Charley's curls, and pulled him down. His lips were so much softer than he'd thought they'd been. As soft as Amy's.
Charley curled his arm around Peter's torso, the other hand on Peter's neck, the loofah still moving in gentle circles. When Peter's lips started to move against his, gentle and slow, Charley felt himself sinking towards him. The loofah slipped from his fingers, rolled over Peter's hips, hit the puddle of water flowing over the tiles.
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Every time Charley had imagined this (and oh, he'd imagined it so many times, as loath as he was to admit to that), he'd imagined Peter's kisses to be hard and demanding, not sweet and soft. His tongue was skilled against his, and Charley was sure it was obvious he was a total amateur, but it didn't stop the older man from drawing it even deeper, pulling Charley down harder.
Charley was half crouching now, resting some of his weight against Peter, his hand tracing lower, over his stomach. He felt the crease of his appendectomy scar, the soft fuzz around his navel. Then further, he touched the smooth fabric of his board shorts, which were tight.
Charley moaned now, squeezing Peter's hard on through the cloth. He rubbed and squeezed until Peter's hips began to flex into him. Charley wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do it. He undid the laces and pulled them until they were loose.
Peter pulled away, drawing in a deep breath as Charley's hand slipped under the band of his shorts, curious. He groaned, deep in his throat, as Charley kissed his neck, and touched him.
He was smooth, silky, and so hot under his palm. He didn't know what Peter liked, but he knew what felt good when he touched himself, so he did the same, wrapping his hand around the head of his cock, squeezing in time with Peter's thrusts.
He ran his tongue along the hard muscles in Peter's neck, tasting nothing but sweet skin and the faint aftertaste of the soap and water. He dragged his teeth a little, and increasing his rhythm, and Peter held onto him, cried out Charley's name as he came. The sound bounced off of the tiles, mixed with the gentle patter of the spraying water.
Charley shuddered as warm come spilled over his fingers. Peter twisted, hissing a little with the pain the movement must have brought, and wrapped his arms around Charley's shoulders.
Charley pulled away, sighing. The water sprayed over him, dripping, so warm and so soft.
"All clean," said Charley.
"No I'm not," was Peter's reply, and he chuckled.
Charley couldn't help it. He laughed too.
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