Of Virtue
He wasn’t going to deny this felt good, not in the least. Somehow one of his deepest desires, his fondest wish had been granted. An evening of tivo, takeout and toddies with his best friend had turned into an evening of sharing not so chaste kisses with said best friend.
Wet, saliva drenched tongues battled for dominance in the other’s mouth. Lips, patches of skin along the jaw and neck fell happy victims to sharp nipping teeth when tongues took momentary retreats so air could be gasped in. The low sounds coming from the tv were long since muted by pleasured frenzied moans of approval, muffled by soft curses and pleas for more.
Pleas that did not go unheeded as hands brushed and soothed shoulders, upper arms and chests, sometimes bumping up against each other, and turned to whines of frustration and need as fumbling arms and hands became entangled. House groaned his approval as Wilson’s hand found its way up under his tee shirt, Wilson’s fingertips ghosting along his quivering stomach, tracing ribs and muscles, touch light enough to be just this side of ticklish.
He tried to return the favor, growling in discontent as his own fingers fought with stubborn dress shirt buttons, finally just grabbing bunches of the material and yanking upwards, freeing it from Wilson’s pants. His hands slid down to find the un-tucked shirttails and ripping them apart, sending the buttons flying. He smiled at Wilson’s squawk of dismay over his shirt. The smile becoming even broader as those sounds of dismay turned to keens of approval as flesh met flesh, as deft fingers set about discovering every sensitive spot on Wilson’s chest.
House was lost in his quest for finding every point of pleasure on Wilson’s upper body with his hands and tongue that would make Wilson cry out, arch into him or writhe above him. He decided he could spend hours devoted to this new study but was snapped out of his reverie by the feel of Wilson’s hand working on his belt buckle and jeans. He felt his cock twitch with approval as the side of Wilson’s hand grazed it with nowhere near enough pressure, but he had been far to pliant this evening after Wilson surprised him with this pleasurable assault. He wasn’t a slut like Wilson and Wilson obviously needed to know this.
He pulled back, zapping all reserves of self-restraint, his hands coming to rest on top of Wilson’s firmly grasping them and pushing them away. He smiled at a very confused Wilson. “A kiss is not permission to intercourse you know.” He said coyly as he finished pushing Wilson back over to his side of the couch.
Wilson, to his credit, only sat there gaping at House for a few minutes before standing up and heading towards House’s bedroom, shedding his clothing along the way, calling back, “When you decide your virtue is lonely up on its high horse, I’ll be waiting.”