30 lemons Challenge #1: "Anatomical," Al/Danny, NC-17
Yay-hey for the porning hour! All y'all whom I told earlier tonight that I was going to bed? Well that pissed-off little Alphonse!muse of mine overheard that and decided that sleep wasn't in my future. Bastard muse.
So I stayed up and wrote this and double-yay, I'm now going to bed. Goodnight.
(P.S.: This is my attempt to cheat at 30_lemons prompt #1, "Anonymity." I think that, at cheating, I have been wildly successful. XD)
(P.P.S.: HAPPY BIRTHDAY lifeinahole27!!! I totally knew today was your birthday! No really, I did. Honest. Yeah. *cough* ♥)
Anatomical
by Mistr3ss Quickly
This body was made to fuck me.
Over me and under me and beside me and behind me, his hands on my hips and his cock in my ass, forehead pressed between my shoulderblades because I'm taller than he is and he can't quite reach to bite me on the shoulder.
This body was made for this.
Fingers pinching my nipples now, tickling down my ribs, and then he's fucking with less urgency because it's too good and he's too close and his body will come, unless he slows down and won't let it.
Which he won't, not 'til his body's made my body come, first. One hand wrapped around my cock and the other tickling below, touching my balls just a little before moving back up to grip my hip, balancing his body so he can thrust into my body, once again.
He knows I like it. Knows how much I enjoy the feel of getting fucked.
How he knows that, I'll never know. He wasn't like this, back when I figured it out, myself. Steel, back then, and hollow, a little boy's voice trapped inside an enormous suit of armor.
I didn't like his body, when he was like that. He frightened me and intimidated me, then after I got to know him, he saddened me and worried me, made me feel pity that I'm certain, now, he would've never wanted me to feel.
I didn't like him, when he was like that. Not like like I like him now. Back then, I jerked off by myself whenever I didn't have him on my mind. I thought of nameless men I saw wearing uniforms just like mine, men with big muscles and deep voices. Men with big hands and big bulges in their underwear, which I glanced at only enough to fuel my fantasies, too scared to look long enough to give myself away.
But now, there's this body, thin and graceful and powerful and strong. This body that tempts me, every time I see it dressed in a nice suit and tie, wrapped up like a delicious gift. This body that teases me, stretching lean muscle under an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that used to belong to me. This body that seduces me, naked and hard and silky and delicious, touching me all over and shivering when I touch it back.
I arch my back and call out for this amazing man who is nothing like what I wanted, before, and is now the only thing I can imagine ever wanting or needing or loving or touching or trusting like I trust him.
He answers me with my own name, breathed on a gasp.
The hand around my cock loosens enough that it can stroke more quickly, jerking and twisting, while the hand on my hip tightens, steadying me as the hips bumping into my backside beat against me faster and faster. The cock inside my body moves faster, a steady burn against the muscle around it that I only notice because it's hotter than the burn of the muscles in my legs, the ache of the muscles in my back.
His body shudders when mine comes.
I hear the growl in his throat and feel his teeth scrape against my skin, the rest of him trembling hard enough that I notice it, even as I cry out and thrust desperately into his hand, fucking it as hard as I hope he'll fuck me, once I'm done.
He doesn't disappoint me, of course. His body gets more aroused by my coming than it does over anything else, even the porn I bought for us, once, on a whim. I close my eyes and brace myself, ready for him to lose control, for his body to do the things to me that I will fantasize about it doing, the next time my pleasure is left for me to take care of alone.
It doesn't take him long. He's silent for the last thrusts, brutally hard in a way he'd never be if he were thinking clearly. Then he groans as he comes, gasping warm breath across the sweat on my back.
I feel him go limp and gently shake him off of me, then gather his beautiful, worn-out body into my arms and kiss his hair.
"Mmm, Danny," he murmurs, nuzzling my chest.
I'm sweaty and probably don't smell all that great, but he doesn't seem to care. Maybe he likes it, I don't know.
I stroke his arm, shoulder-to-elbow, then continue down his side, rest my hand on his hip.
"That was really good, sweetheart," I tell him, giving his hip a squeeze.
He giggles a little and drapes his arm over my belly, fingers resting right over a place I know he won't tickle, not so soon after sex, anyway.
"Yeah," he says. "I love you, Danny."
His body slowly relaxes against me, not asleep but content, warm and a little heavy, making my arm go to sleep under its weight.
Made to fuck me, definitely, but all the rest of the time ...
I kiss his hair again. "Love you too, Al," I whisper. "Love you, too."
So I stayed up and wrote this and double-yay, I'm now going to bed. Goodnight.
(P.S.: This is my attempt to cheat at 30_lemons prompt #1, "Anonymity." I think that, at cheating, I have been wildly successful. XD)
(P.P.S.: HAPPY BIRTHDAY lifeinahole27!!! I totally knew today was your birthday! No really, I did. Honest. Yeah. *cough* ♥)
Anatomical
by Mistr3ss Quickly
This body was made to fuck me.
Over me and under me and beside me and behind me, his hands on my hips and his cock in my ass, forehead pressed between my shoulderblades because I'm taller than he is and he can't quite reach to bite me on the shoulder.
This body was made for this.
Fingers pinching my nipples now, tickling down my ribs, and then he's fucking with less urgency because it's too good and he's too close and his body will come, unless he slows down and won't let it.
Which he won't, not 'til his body's made my body come, first. One hand wrapped around my cock and the other tickling below, touching my balls just a little before moving back up to grip my hip, balancing his body so he can thrust into my body, once again.
He knows I like it. Knows how much I enjoy the feel of getting fucked.
How he knows that, I'll never know. He wasn't like this, back when I figured it out, myself. Steel, back then, and hollow, a little boy's voice trapped inside an enormous suit of armor.
I didn't like his body, when he was like that. He frightened me and intimidated me, then after I got to know him, he saddened me and worried me, made me feel pity that I'm certain, now, he would've never wanted me to feel.
I didn't like him, when he was like that. Not like like I like him now. Back then, I jerked off by myself whenever I didn't have him on my mind. I thought of nameless men I saw wearing uniforms just like mine, men with big muscles and deep voices. Men with big hands and big bulges in their underwear, which I glanced at only enough to fuel my fantasies, too scared to look long enough to give myself away.
But now, there's this body, thin and graceful and powerful and strong. This body that tempts me, every time I see it dressed in a nice suit and tie, wrapped up like a delicious gift. This body that teases me, stretching lean muscle under an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that used to belong to me. This body that seduces me, naked and hard and silky and delicious, touching me all over and shivering when I touch it back.
I arch my back and call out for this amazing man who is nothing like what I wanted, before, and is now the only thing I can imagine ever wanting or needing or loving or touching or trusting like I trust him.
He answers me with my own name, breathed on a gasp.
The hand around my cock loosens enough that it can stroke more quickly, jerking and twisting, while the hand on my hip tightens, steadying me as the hips bumping into my backside beat against me faster and faster. The cock inside my body moves faster, a steady burn against the muscle around it that I only notice because it's hotter than the burn of the muscles in my legs, the ache of the muscles in my back.
His body shudders when mine comes.
I hear the growl in his throat and feel his teeth scrape against my skin, the rest of him trembling hard enough that I notice it, even as I cry out and thrust desperately into his hand, fucking it as hard as I hope he'll fuck me, once I'm done.
He doesn't disappoint me, of course. His body gets more aroused by my coming than it does over anything else, even the porn I bought for us, once, on a whim. I close my eyes and brace myself, ready for him to lose control, for his body to do the things to me that I will fantasize about it doing, the next time my pleasure is left for me to take care of alone.
It doesn't take him long. He's silent for the last thrusts, brutally hard in a way he'd never be if he were thinking clearly. Then he groans as he comes, gasping warm breath across the sweat on my back.
I feel him go limp and gently shake him off of me, then gather his beautiful, worn-out body into my arms and kiss his hair.
"Mmm, Danny," he murmurs, nuzzling my chest.
I'm sweaty and probably don't smell all that great, but he doesn't seem to care. Maybe he likes it, I don't know.
I stroke his arm, shoulder-to-elbow, then continue down his side, rest my hand on his hip.
"That was really good, sweetheart," I tell him, giving his hip a squeeze.
He giggles a little and drapes his arm over my belly, fingers resting right over a place I know he won't tickle, not so soon after sex, anyway.
"Yeah," he says. "I love you, Danny."
His body slowly relaxes against me, not asleep but content, warm and a little heavy, making my arm go to sleep under its weight.
Made to fuck me, definitely, but all the rest of the time ...
I kiss his hair again. "Love you too, Al," I whisper. "Love you, too."