For penm
Title: Damn Those Bloody Speedo Ads!
Author: jamirblaze
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Thorpe/Phelps
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, know them, etc. You could sue, but you wouldn’t get anything.
Notes: For penm for swim_ficathon whose prompts were ‘sunburn’ and ‘summer vacation’ and who didn’t want anything dark, but did want humor with a dash of sex. Well, I think I have provided sex with a dash of humor, but those damned Speedo ads (sexeh!Phelpsie!) have fried my brain. Thanks to piagorgeous for the beta and holding my hand through the writing process, as per usual. And to lacyforthorpey for helping me come up with this idea, unknowingly as it may be.
Biting his lip to hold back the laughter that had been threatening to escape for a little over an hour, Michael watched the Aussie throw his shopping bags haphazardly onto the chair and flop onto the couch, an annoyed pout appearing on his face as he folded his arms across his chest.
However, as Ian was far more likely to throw one of his rare, but completely diva-like fits than laugh, Michael bit even harder on his lip. He loved Ian, but the man could be more dramatic than a group of drunken drag queens at a gay pride event and entertainers like Britney, J.Lo and Christina put together, the similarities between the two groups not withstanding.
As he struggled to get his humor in check, the American sat there for a few minutes before joining his long-time lover on the couch.
"Don't fucking touch me," Ian hissed as he pulled away from the slightly shorter man.
"Ian..." Michael began softly, well schooled in the ways of placating his older, yet more outwardly emotional partner.
"Don't 'Ian' me," the Aussie snapped. "You know what is wrong. I can't believe you just let that woman completely lust over you. She was about to devour you, going on and on about those bloody Speedo ads, and you just sat there and let her. I swear, your shirt is probably covered in drool or some other womanly fluid that I don’t even want to think about!"
Michael sighed, inwardly smiling at Ian's possessiveness; he loved the way that Ian was so territorial, even if it was slightly reminiscent of a tiger pissing on things to mark them as his. "Baby, what did you want me to do? Be rude?"
Ian glared at him. "No, but you didn't have to keep talking to her. And you let her touch you!"
"Ian, I only shook her hand."
"I don't care; I still didn't like it!" The pout deepened, and the Aussie refused to look at the American; Michael half expected him to yell "No nap!" any second as the pose was similar to that of a defiant two-year-old.
Seeing that Ian was well entrenched in his mood and wasn't likely to let things go easily, Michael decided to pull out the big guns, not wanting the argument to spoil their getaway. Standing, he pulled off his shirt, making sure to be careful of the slight sunburn that he had gotten on the beach the day before; he had underestimated the strength of the tropical sun's rays on the Caribbean island where Ian and he had decided to spend two weeks during his summer vacation. Shirt off, he tossed it at Ian, but the taller man refused to look at him, flicking the shirt to the side.
Continuing, the American kicked off his sandals as he undid his belt, allowing his pants to pool around his ankles. Left in a pair of white boxer briefs, he stepped out of his pants, and with a flick of his foot, tossed them light towards Ian. The Aussie ignored them, leaving them where they had landed on the couch next to him.
Happy that there was still a light sheen of sweat covering his skin from the hot and humid summer air, Michael draped himself over the leather chair that sat opposite of the couch in their rented villa. Running a hand across his chest and sculpted abs, Michael let out a sigh. "Whew. I don't know about you, but this heat is killer."
Ian snorted and coldly stated, "Like that isn't completely obvious. I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work."
Despite his words, however, Michael caught Ian trying to sneak a peak at him out of the corner of his eye. Encouraged, Michael assumed a seductive pose, virtually mirroring the Speedo ad that had caused all of this to begin with. "Are you sure you're not hot, love?"
Michael had to bite back triumphant laughter as Ian groaned and turned to look at him. No matter how many times they had sex or how much time they spent together, Ian was still drawn to him in a way that made Michael feel secure with his sexuality, his sexual appeal.
Emboldened, Michael lifted his hips and slipped his underwear over his increasingly aroused cock and down his legs. Like his other articles of clothing, he tossed these at his lover as well. "Too hot to wear much of anything, I think," he purred, caressing his abdomen.
"Touch yourself," Ian growled before he could stop himself.
"Touch myself?" the American asked, looking at his lover coyly through his eyelashes. "But I am touching myself." He ran his hands exaggeratedly across his chest and abs to emphasize his words, making sure that his hands did not dip lower to brush his now fully erect cock that was straining toward his belly.
"Touch your cock," Ian demanded huskily, giving up all pretences of trying to resist the American. By doing so, he knew that he was letting his lover win, but instead of trying to resist and do the impossible, he tucked the incident away into his mental file for a future opportunity to ‘punish’ Michael.
Smirking sexily, Michael complied with Ian's order, wrapping his right hand around his thick shaft while his left snaked up to tease his nipples, lightly pinching the erect and sensitive nubs. Slowly, he began to work his right hand up and down, using his precum to lubricate his movements and caressing the sweet spot under the head with his thumb. He held himself back from setting an orgasm-inducing rhythm, because as much as he liked the sensation that his hand caused, it wasn't what he was looking for.
Catching Ian's gaze, Michael stared intensely into Ian's eyes and ran his sinful pink tongue across his full bottom lip. Moving his left hand from his nipples, he wet his index, middle and ring finger, slowly sucking them into his mouth and coating them with saliva before removing them from his mouth and using kittenish licks to make sure that he had moistened each digit properly.
Continuing to look at Ian while stroking his cock, Michael slung each of his legs over an arm of the chair, spreading himself. Trailing his moist fingers down his body, he located his puckered entrance that was still quite loose from the pre-breakfast, sleepy sex that they had engaged in that morning. Moaning at the memory of Ian's long, thick cock stretching him delightfully, Michael lubricated himself with his saliva, avoiding his prostate so that he wouldn't get too worked up.
With a steamy look in Ian's direction, he purred, "Fuck me."
Before Michael knew what was happening, Ian had leaped over the coffee table that separated them and had slung him on his stomach over the low back of the chair. The American gripped at the arms of the chair for support and wiggled his ass in encouragement, while the Aussie undid his own pants and shoved them and his underwear down just far enough for his erection to spring free.
"You want to be fucked?" Ian growled and spat into his hand, using the fluid to lubricate his cock. "I'm going to fuck you, baby. Fuck you so hard that you won't be able to sit for a week."
Picking up the role of the clichéd porn star, Michael groaned breathily, "Oh, yes, you stud, fuck me. Fuck me hard."
At that, Ian plunged his cock into Michael's ass. Normally, the saliva would not have provided adequate lubrication, but given Michael's level of openness from the previous fuck as well as the level of roughness they were both looking for, the extra friction and bit of pain was perfect. Making sure that he wouldn't really hurt the younger man, Ian gave him a brief opportunity to adjust before he began a rhythm of hard, deep and punishing strokes at a fast pace. Every one of his strokes was aimed to caress his lover's prostate. The shorter man met his every movement, moving his hips back into Ian's thrusts, his cock being stimulated by the cool, smooth leather of the chair back.
At that pace, it wasn't long before the two men were grunting as their pleasure began to build. Determined to have Michael come with him, Ian reached around his lover's body and grasped his cock, jerking it off roughly.
"Come for me, baby," Ian commanded.
"Iiaaaannnnnn," Michael groaned, the combination the leather and Ian's cock and hand working him into a feverish state.
One, two, three more of Ian's perfectly aimed strokes sent Michael over the edge, his thick, creamy fluid spurting out to cover the chair and Ian's hand as he grunted his pleasure loudly. The spasms of Michael's passage brought on by his orgasm caused Ian to find his own pleasure, moaning deeply as his cum spurted into his lover.
Somehow, during the blissful haze of afterglow, the two oozed onto the floor, sprawling on the cool tiles that felt great on their heated skin. As the sweat pooled and dried against their flushed flesh, Ian tightened his arm around Michael, causing his lover to wince as he brushed uncomfortably against his sun-reddened skin.
“Sorry, baby,” Ian murmured softly and readjusted his arm. “I’ll have to rub some aloe on that later.”
Michael purred softly in agreement and curled into Ian’s embrace.
A few moments of blissful silence passed before Ian raised his head and looked down at Michael. “Stud?” he inquired, with a cocked brow.
A lecherous smirk spread across the American’s face. “Well, you are hung like a horse, love.”
The two looked at one another for a moment, before dissolving into chuckles. Each of them clung to one another as the laughter washed over them in waves, both of them glad that they had escaped their responsibilities for a much needed summer vacation.
Hope you like it, penm!
Author: jamirblaze
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Thorpe/Phelps
Disclaimer: I don’t own them, know them, etc. You could sue, but you wouldn’t get anything.
Notes: For penm for swim_ficathon whose prompts were ‘sunburn’ and ‘summer vacation’ and who didn’t want anything dark, but did want humor with a dash of sex. Well, I think I have provided sex with a dash of humor, but those damned Speedo ads (sexeh!Phelpsie!) have fried my brain. Thanks to piagorgeous for the beta and holding my hand through the writing process, as per usual. And to lacyforthorpey for helping me come up with this idea, unknowingly as it may be.
Biting his lip to hold back the laughter that had been threatening to escape for a little over an hour, Michael watched the Aussie throw his shopping bags haphazardly onto the chair and flop onto the couch, an annoyed pout appearing on his face as he folded his arms across his chest.
However, as Ian was far more likely to throw one of his rare, but completely diva-like fits than laugh, Michael bit even harder on his lip. He loved Ian, but the man could be more dramatic than a group of drunken drag queens at a gay pride event and entertainers like Britney, J.Lo and Christina put together, the similarities between the two groups not withstanding.
As he struggled to get his humor in check, the American sat there for a few minutes before joining his long-time lover on the couch.
"Don't fucking touch me," Ian hissed as he pulled away from the slightly shorter man.
"Ian..." Michael began softly, well schooled in the ways of placating his older, yet more outwardly emotional partner.
"Don't 'Ian' me," the Aussie snapped. "You know what is wrong. I can't believe you just let that woman completely lust over you. She was about to devour you, going on and on about those bloody Speedo ads, and you just sat there and let her. I swear, your shirt is probably covered in drool or some other womanly fluid that I don’t even want to think about!"
Michael sighed, inwardly smiling at Ian's possessiveness; he loved the way that Ian was so territorial, even if it was slightly reminiscent of a tiger pissing on things to mark them as his. "Baby, what did you want me to do? Be rude?"
Ian glared at him. "No, but you didn't have to keep talking to her. And you let her touch you!"
"Ian, I only shook her hand."
"I don't care; I still didn't like it!" The pout deepened, and the Aussie refused to look at the American; Michael half expected him to yell "No nap!" any second as the pose was similar to that of a defiant two-year-old.
Seeing that Ian was well entrenched in his mood and wasn't likely to let things go easily, Michael decided to pull out the big guns, not wanting the argument to spoil their getaway. Standing, he pulled off his shirt, making sure to be careful of the slight sunburn that he had gotten on the beach the day before; he had underestimated the strength of the tropical sun's rays on the Caribbean island where Ian and he had decided to spend two weeks during his summer vacation. Shirt off, he tossed it at Ian, but the taller man refused to look at him, flicking the shirt to the side.
Continuing, the American kicked off his sandals as he undid his belt, allowing his pants to pool around his ankles. Left in a pair of white boxer briefs, he stepped out of his pants, and with a flick of his foot, tossed them light towards Ian. The Aussie ignored them, leaving them where they had landed on the couch next to him.
Happy that there was still a light sheen of sweat covering his skin from the hot and humid summer air, Michael draped himself over the leather chair that sat opposite of the couch in their rented villa. Running a hand across his chest and sculpted abs, Michael let out a sigh. "Whew. I don't know about you, but this heat is killer."
Ian snorted and coldly stated, "Like that isn't completely obvious. I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work."
Despite his words, however, Michael caught Ian trying to sneak a peak at him out of the corner of his eye. Encouraged, Michael assumed a seductive pose, virtually mirroring the Speedo ad that had caused all of this to begin with. "Are you sure you're not hot, love?"
Michael had to bite back triumphant laughter as Ian groaned and turned to look at him. No matter how many times they had sex or how much time they spent together, Ian was still drawn to him in a way that made Michael feel secure with his sexuality, his sexual appeal.
Emboldened, Michael lifted his hips and slipped his underwear over his increasingly aroused cock and down his legs. Like his other articles of clothing, he tossed these at his lover as well. "Too hot to wear much of anything, I think," he purred, caressing his abdomen.
"Touch yourself," Ian growled before he could stop himself.
"Touch myself?" the American asked, looking at his lover coyly through his eyelashes. "But I am touching myself." He ran his hands exaggeratedly across his chest and abs to emphasize his words, making sure that his hands did not dip lower to brush his now fully erect cock that was straining toward his belly.
"Touch your cock," Ian demanded huskily, giving up all pretences of trying to resist the American. By doing so, he knew that he was letting his lover win, but instead of trying to resist and do the impossible, he tucked the incident away into his mental file for a future opportunity to ‘punish’ Michael.
Smirking sexily, Michael complied with Ian's order, wrapping his right hand around his thick shaft while his left snaked up to tease his nipples, lightly pinching the erect and sensitive nubs. Slowly, he began to work his right hand up and down, using his precum to lubricate his movements and caressing the sweet spot under the head with his thumb. He held himself back from setting an orgasm-inducing rhythm, because as much as he liked the sensation that his hand caused, it wasn't what he was looking for.
Catching Ian's gaze, Michael stared intensely into Ian's eyes and ran his sinful pink tongue across his full bottom lip. Moving his left hand from his nipples, he wet his index, middle and ring finger, slowly sucking them into his mouth and coating them with saliva before removing them from his mouth and using kittenish licks to make sure that he had moistened each digit properly.
Continuing to look at Ian while stroking his cock, Michael slung each of his legs over an arm of the chair, spreading himself. Trailing his moist fingers down his body, he located his puckered entrance that was still quite loose from the pre-breakfast, sleepy sex that they had engaged in that morning. Moaning at the memory of Ian's long, thick cock stretching him delightfully, Michael lubricated himself with his saliva, avoiding his prostate so that he wouldn't get too worked up.
With a steamy look in Ian's direction, he purred, "Fuck me."
Before Michael knew what was happening, Ian had leaped over the coffee table that separated them and had slung him on his stomach over the low back of the chair. The American gripped at the arms of the chair for support and wiggled his ass in encouragement, while the Aussie undid his own pants and shoved them and his underwear down just far enough for his erection to spring free.
"You want to be fucked?" Ian growled and spat into his hand, using the fluid to lubricate his cock. "I'm going to fuck you, baby. Fuck you so hard that you won't be able to sit for a week."
Picking up the role of the clichéd porn star, Michael groaned breathily, "Oh, yes, you stud, fuck me. Fuck me hard."
At that, Ian plunged his cock into Michael's ass. Normally, the saliva would not have provided adequate lubrication, but given Michael's level of openness from the previous fuck as well as the level of roughness they were both looking for, the extra friction and bit of pain was perfect. Making sure that he wouldn't really hurt the younger man, Ian gave him a brief opportunity to adjust before he began a rhythm of hard, deep and punishing strokes at a fast pace. Every one of his strokes was aimed to caress his lover's prostate. The shorter man met his every movement, moving his hips back into Ian's thrusts, his cock being stimulated by the cool, smooth leather of the chair back.
At that pace, it wasn't long before the two men were grunting as their pleasure began to build. Determined to have Michael come with him, Ian reached around his lover's body and grasped his cock, jerking it off roughly.
"Come for me, baby," Ian commanded.
"Iiaaaannnnnn," Michael groaned, the combination the leather and Ian's cock and hand working him into a feverish state.
One, two, three more of Ian's perfectly aimed strokes sent Michael over the edge, his thick, creamy fluid spurting out to cover the chair and Ian's hand as he grunted his pleasure loudly. The spasms of Michael's passage brought on by his orgasm caused Ian to find his own pleasure, moaning deeply as his cum spurted into his lover.
Somehow, during the blissful haze of afterglow, the two oozed onto the floor, sprawling on the cool tiles that felt great on their heated skin. As the sweat pooled and dried against their flushed flesh, Ian tightened his arm around Michael, causing his lover to wince as he brushed uncomfortably against his sun-reddened skin.
“Sorry, baby,” Ian murmured softly and readjusted his arm. “I’ll have to rub some aloe on that later.”
Michael purred softly in agreement and curled into Ian’s embrace.
A few moments of blissful silence passed before Ian raised his head and looked down at Michael. “Stud?” he inquired, with a cocked brow.
A lecherous smirk spread across the American’s face. “Well, you are hung like a horse, love.”
The two looked at one another for a moment, before dissolving into chuckles. Each of them clung to one another as the laughter washed over them in waves, both of them glad that they had escaped their responsibilities for a much needed summer vacation.
Hope you like it, penm!