Fill: Priorities (2/2)
anonymous
August 22 2011, 02:18:15 UTC
Greg pulls his hand back and smacks him again. This time the sharp sting of contact sizzles up John’s spine, making him cry out.
“Oh god, John, your arse is so gorgeous like this,” Greg spanks again and John’s vision goes white, pleasure and pain warring in his brain, resulting in a throbbing erection that’s almost pulsing with his heartbeat. When Greg lets go of him he almost collapses, but Greg catches him again from behind, between John’s thighs. “You all right?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, God, yes. Please,” is all he can say. He’s more than ready, hoping Greg won’t draw it out much longer. He hears the click of a cap, the slick feeling of lubed fingers pushing into his body, the sensation flaring up his spine, his shoulders, his head, until all he can do is moan, a wanton sound that sounds almost vulgar, even to himself. John’s quivering at the edge of exquisite bliss, waiting for the push that will send him over the edge into oblivion.
It comes when Greg pushes into his body in a slow, smooth stroke, his cock just big enough to stretch a bit more than John had been comfortable with before. “God, Greg, it’s perfect, please, fuck me, oh - “ He’s almost gone when Greg wraps an arm around his waist to stroke his cock, drawing out his pleasure and keeping it taut, a fine wire singing with tension and ready to snap.
Greg thrusts into his body in short, quick motions, hips hitting John’s still-tingling arse and that’s all it takes, a few sharp reminders of what transpired earlier and John’s crying out, spilling over Greg’s fingers.
His orgasm trips Greg’s in a matter of moments. He drapes his body over John’s back, wrapping his arms around John’s chest and pushing into him in a final, hard thrust that leaves him shaking and calling out John’s name.
They stay together a moment in the dim, quiet room, sweat cooling on their bodies, until John realizes his arm is asleep. He groans and pushes Greg up and off of him, snagging a couple of tissues from the bedside table in a half-hearted attempt at a cleanup.
Greg is oddly quiet the entire time, and when John turns back to him, he’s looking at John with a pensive expression.
“What is it?” John asks quietly.
“Was that…ok?” he says, and the soft uncertainty in his voice is almost heartbreaking.
“Yes, of course,” John hurries to reassure him. “It was fine, perfect, really. A bit unexpected, perhaps.”
“I'm sorry - I just...I want more than just your promises, John,” Greg says, pulling John back down to the bed and resting his head on John’s chest. “I want you to look at me and know how much I adore you, that I’d do anything for you. That you’re the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me, bar none.”
John’s heart swells with happiness. Their relationship was still a bit new, still, but he felt more at home with Greg than he ever had with anyone else, his heart knowing contentment for the first time in a long time. He ducks his chin to kiss Greg on the top of the head and tightens his arms around his shoulders. “Me too, you daft thing. Now get some sleep. You’ve been up for almost 20 hours.”
“Yes, dear,” Greg says, a sarcastic lilt in his voice. John smiles and settles against the pillows, ready to doze off, when his mobile vibrates from the nightstand. He feels Greg tense next to him as he checks the screen.
Sherlock.
He smiles, gives Greg a little squeeze, and pitches his mobile across the room, where it lands with a satisfying thud.
“Oh god, John, your arse is so gorgeous like this,” Greg spanks again and John’s vision goes white, pleasure and pain warring in his brain, resulting in a throbbing erection that’s almost pulsing with his heartbeat. When Greg lets go of him he almost collapses, but Greg catches him again from behind, between John’s thighs. “You all right?” he asks quietly.
“Yes, God, yes. Please,” is all he can say. He’s more than ready, hoping Greg won’t draw it out much longer. He hears the click of a cap, the slick feeling of lubed fingers pushing into his body, the sensation flaring up his spine, his shoulders, his head, until all he can do is moan, a wanton sound that sounds almost vulgar, even to himself. John’s quivering at the edge of exquisite bliss, waiting for the push that will send him over the edge into oblivion.
It comes when Greg pushes into his body in a slow, smooth stroke, his cock just big enough to stretch a bit more than John had been comfortable with before. “God, Greg, it’s perfect, please, fuck me, oh - “ He’s almost gone when Greg wraps an arm around his waist to stroke his cock, drawing out his pleasure and keeping it taut, a fine wire singing with tension and ready to snap.
Greg thrusts into his body in short, quick motions, hips hitting John’s still-tingling arse and that’s all it takes, a few sharp reminders of what transpired earlier and John’s crying out, spilling over Greg’s fingers.
His orgasm trips Greg’s in a matter of moments. He drapes his body over John’s back, wrapping his arms around John’s chest and pushing into him in a final, hard thrust that leaves him shaking and calling out John’s name.
They stay together a moment in the dim, quiet room, sweat cooling on their bodies, until John realizes his arm is asleep. He groans and pushes Greg up and off of him, snagging a couple of tissues from the bedside table in a half-hearted attempt at a cleanup.
Greg is oddly quiet the entire time, and when John turns back to him, he’s looking at John with a pensive expression.
“What is it?” John asks quietly.
“Was that…ok?” he says, and the soft uncertainty in his voice is almost heartbreaking.
“Yes, of course,” John hurries to reassure him. “It was fine, perfect, really. A bit unexpected, perhaps.”
“I'm sorry - I just...I want more than just your promises, John,” Greg says, pulling John back down to the bed and resting his head on John’s chest. “I want you to look at me and know how much I adore you, that I’d do anything for you. That you’re the best fucking thing that has ever happened to me, bar none.”
John’s heart swells with happiness. Their relationship was still a bit new, still, but he felt more at home with Greg than he ever had with anyone else, his heart knowing contentment for the first time in a long time. He ducks his chin to kiss Greg on the top of the head and tightens his arms around his shoulders. “Me too, you daft thing. Now get some sleep. You’ve been up for almost 20 hours.”
“Yes, dear,” Greg says, a sarcastic lilt in his voice. John smiles and settles against the pillows, ready to doze off, when his mobile vibrates from the nightstand. He feels Greg tense next to him as he checks the screen.
Sherlock.
He smiles, gives Greg a little squeeze, and pitches his mobile across the room, where it lands with a satisfying thud.
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John needs to know his priorities indeed!
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