Fic: Me Time.
Title: Me Time.
Author: Dave2380
Characters, Pairing: Will. Fantasy!Finn
Summary: There are perks to being a divorcee. One of Will's favourites is the freedom to jerk off and have some Me Time.
Rating: NC17.
A.N. A guy on ff.net asked me if i'd write a request for him, specifically Will jerking off, with references to the underwear in this picture http://tiny.cc/djthb , oh and also white socks. So this is what i came up with.
A.N.2. Wasn't sure if i should/was allowed to post this here as it's primarily just Will, but he does think about Finn when he's getting close, so i thought i'd post it. If i'm out of line then feel free to delete it and slap me.
Being a divorcee is one of those good news, bad news situations no one tells you about. On the one hand Will comes home to an empty apartment and cooks for himself, he has no one to talk to and he spends his nights alone in his bed, usually after jerking off.
On the other hand, he comes home to peace and quiet, no nagging shrew of a wife, he doesn’t have to suffer her terrible cooking, her shrewish nagging, or the omnipresent odour of hot glue from that damn glue gun of hers. He doesn’t have to obsessively check ingredients when he’s shopping to make sure they’re nut free, he can eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without worrying about sending his wife into anaphylactic shock.
So, yeah it’s a good news, bad news deal. Which he can live with, especially since it’s the summer and he doesn’t have to run the A/C because it’s too hot for Terri, he can just pad around the apartment in his favourite briefs and a pair of white ankle socks, he could live without the socks personally but Terri insisted on varnished hardwood floors and he hates the way his feet stick to the floor.
Plus he can imitate Tom Cruise in Risky Business and pull off some amazing slides down the hallway, which never really gets old. Total freedom. He could really get used to this.
*****
He doesn’t even miss the sex, because let’s face it, sex with Terri was all about the goal, all about having a child. Sex when she said, when she initiated it, when she was ovulating. No more marathon fuckfests when they could screw all night and mainline coffee just to get through the day.
And god forbid he actually got off himself, how dare he waste so much as a drop of his sperm when she was trying so hard to get pregnant. Never mind the fact that she sexually starved him for the last two years and made him sexually anorexic.
Which is why he’s really getting into the whole freedom to jerk off thing. He can do it anywhere in the apartment, any time he wants. Which is fucking amazing. It’s like drinking ice water after days of thirsting.
And boy he’s built up quite a thirst.
Which is why he’s sprawled on his bed in his favourite briefs, classic black Calvin Klein’s that cling to him as if they’ve been painted on. His eyes are half closed as he lets his mind wander, as his hands start wandering all over his chest, the feel of his big guitar calloused hands roaming across his fuzzy pecs is enough to send a rush of blood to his cock.
But he’s going to ignore it for now, there’s a time for quick, frantic jerk off sessions and today isn’t one of those days, today is a long, languid day, for slow and teasing exploration of his body. For drawing things out so slowly that when he finally does come it’ll be a seismic eruption of orgasmic release and he’ll trash his fucking sheets.
Just the thought of it, the building anticipation, it adds to his arousal, stretching his briefs as his fingers skim over the planes of his hairy abs, thumb brushing over his waistband, teasingly like a playful lover. He slides his hand across the bulge of his fabric clad cock slowly before he squeezes it softly, shuddering under his own touch.
No, not yet. Not so soon, he reminds himself, forcing himself to move his hand up, to safer territory, to roam across his chest before he begins to play with his nipples. Teasing the little buds of flesh until they harden, perfect nubbins of pink flesh nesting amid the hair that dusts his pecs. He moans at the slight tingle it sends straight down to his throbbing neglected cock and roll’s across the bed to his nightstand, rummaging through the top drawer until he finds it.
Lube, Tingling lubricant to be precise. It smells slightly of mint when he pops the cap and smears a little on his fingers, but fuck, it’s worth it, the cool tingling of the lube and the teasing of his nipples has him gasping at the sensation. Rock hard and leaking in his briefs, the black fabric obscenely tented, marred with a rapidly growing wet spot from the pre-cum that’s oozing from his long, thick, pulsing dick. He can’t help reaching down and cupping himself, pulling the fabric taut around his dick and hissing at the contact.
He moans as he finally slips a hand inside the waistband, wrapping his fingers around his length slowly, dragging out that first stroke, slow and firm with oh god, just the barest of tingles from the lube remaining on his fingers. He braces his feet against the footboard of his bed, still clad in their sock as he arches against his sheets, hissing at the sheer pleasure.
Biting on his lip, he paused to draw in a ragged shuddering breath before drawing his legs up and slipping his fingers beneath his balls, rubbing slow, soft circles into his perineum, moaning softly at the stimulation before pulling his hand out of his briefs and peeling the tight black fabric from his crotch, his cock springing out of it’s cage of fabric to lie flush against his taut stomach.
He tossed the briefs off the bed and spread his legs, feeling positively wanton as he wrapped one hand around his cock and slid the other to his balls, alternating between rolling them between his fingers and massaging small circles into the sensitive spot below them. He moaned happily at the slow build of pleasure, eyes fluttering half shut, imagining someone else’s hands on him.
Big, warm hands, deep brown eyes, a forceful almost rough grip…
He moaned, slowing his stroke, tightening his grip and squeezing. Reaching blindly across the bed with his free hand to grab the lube and squirt it into his hand. Blessed, slick relief as the cool gel coats his cock and makes everything so much easier
His strokes are still as firm but nowhere near as slow, not with the lube speeding things along, the tingling sensation engulfing his cock, an errant glob of the lube melting into the skin below his balls, and fuck, now he’s tingling everywhere and the pressure and sensation just fuse and melt and flow into this amazing ball of fuck-yes-filthy-dirty-hot. It’s so damn good and he knows it can’t last much longer, no matter how much he holds back and tries desperately not to come, it’s going to happen soon.
His eyes flutter closed as he immerses himself in the sensation, losing himself in it, big, warm hands on his cock with a firm grip, a firm warm body behind him, big, tall, the smell of Axe and fabric softener, a hint of Bio-freeze and a lust roughened voice in his ear. “ That’s it, tell me you like it, tell me what I do to you.”
He’s babbling now, broken English, “God, fuck, so good. Need. Oh god, I need. So much.”
The voice in his ear again and an arm pulling him against that firm, warm body. “You’re so fucking hot, coming undone like this, just from my hand, like a wanton slut. You need to come, then come for me, Now.” The words hissed in his ear and one final rough stroke are all it takes for Will’s eyes to snap open as his body bows backwards against his mattress as he comes violently, shooting rope after rope of thick white jizz across his body and sheets as he screams Finn’s name before flopping bonelessly onto his bed. He’s flushed and sweaty, looking completely wrecked and debauched, grinning like a maniac as his orgasm shoots through him, head to toe like a silver lightning bolt.
He savours the afterglow, letting his breathing even out, his heart rate slow, running a finger through his come splattered chest before he tastes himself.
Fuck yeah, he could get used to this.
Now, how can he get Finn out of his head and into his bed?
Author: Dave2380
Characters, Pairing: Will. Fantasy!Finn
Summary: There are perks to being a divorcee. One of Will's favourites is the freedom to jerk off and have some Me Time.
Rating: NC17.
A.N. A guy on ff.net asked me if i'd write a request for him, specifically Will jerking off, with references to the underwear in this picture http://tiny.cc/djthb , oh and also white socks. So this is what i came up with.
A.N.2. Wasn't sure if i should/was allowed to post this here as it's primarily just Will, but he does think about Finn when he's getting close, so i thought i'd post it. If i'm out of line then feel free to delete it and slap me.
Being a divorcee is one of those good news, bad news situations no one tells you about. On the one hand Will comes home to an empty apartment and cooks for himself, he has no one to talk to and he spends his nights alone in his bed, usually after jerking off.
On the other hand, he comes home to peace and quiet, no nagging shrew of a wife, he doesn’t have to suffer her terrible cooking, her shrewish nagging, or the omnipresent odour of hot glue from that damn glue gun of hers. He doesn’t have to obsessively check ingredients when he’s shopping to make sure they’re nut free, he can eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without worrying about sending his wife into anaphylactic shock.
So, yeah it’s a good news, bad news deal. Which he can live with, especially since it’s the summer and he doesn’t have to run the A/C because it’s too hot for Terri, he can just pad around the apartment in his favourite briefs and a pair of white ankle socks, he could live without the socks personally but Terri insisted on varnished hardwood floors and he hates the way his feet stick to the floor.
Plus he can imitate Tom Cruise in Risky Business and pull off some amazing slides down the hallway, which never really gets old. Total freedom. He could really get used to this.
*****
He doesn’t even miss the sex, because let’s face it, sex with Terri was all about the goal, all about having a child. Sex when she said, when she initiated it, when she was ovulating. No more marathon fuckfests when they could screw all night and mainline coffee just to get through the day.
And god forbid he actually got off himself, how dare he waste so much as a drop of his sperm when she was trying so hard to get pregnant. Never mind the fact that she sexually starved him for the last two years and made him sexually anorexic.
Which is why he’s really getting into the whole freedom to jerk off thing. He can do it anywhere in the apartment, any time he wants. Which is fucking amazing. It’s like drinking ice water after days of thirsting.
And boy he’s built up quite a thirst.
Which is why he’s sprawled on his bed in his favourite briefs, classic black Calvin Klein’s that cling to him as if they’ve been painted on. His eyes are half closed as he lets his mind wander, as his hands start wandering all over his chest, the feel of his big guitar calloused hands roaming across his fuzzy pecs is enough to send a rush of blood to his cock.
But he’s going to ignore it for now, there’s a time for quick, frantic jerk off sessions and today isn’t one of those days, today is a long, languid day, for slow and teasing exploration of his body. For drawing things out so slowly that when he finally does come it’ll be a seismic eruption of orgasmic release and he’ll trash his fucking sheets.
Just the thought of it, the building anticipation, it adds to his arousal, stretching his briefs as his fingers skim over the planes of his hairy abs, thumb brushing over his waistband, teasingly like a playful lover. He slides his hand across the bulge of his fabric clad cock slowly before he squeezes it softly, shuddering under his own touch.
No, not yet. Not so soon, he reminds himself, forcing himself to move his hand up, to safer territory, to roam across his chest before he begins to play with his nipples. Teasing the little buds of flesh until they harden, perfect nubbins of pink flesh nesting amid the hair that dusts his pecs. He moans at the slight tingle it sends straight down to his throbbing neglected cock and roll’s across the bed to his nightstand, rummaging through the top drawer until he finds it.
Lube, Tingling lubricant to be precise. It smells slightly of mint when he pops the cap and smears a little on his fingers, but fuck, it’s worth it, the cool tingling of the lube and the teasing of his nipples has him gasping at the sensation. Rock hard and leaking in his briefs, the black fabric obscenely tented, marred with a rapidly growing wet spot from the pre-cum that’s oozing from his long, thick, pulsing dick. He can’t help reaching down and cupping himself, pulling the fabric taut around his dick and hissing at the contact.
He moans as he finally slips a hand inside the waistband, wrapping his fingers around his length slowly, dragging out that first stroke, slow and firm with oh god, just the barest of tingles from the lube remaining on his fingers. He braces his feet against the footboard of his bed, still clad in their sock as he arches against his sheets, hissing at the sheer pleasure.
Biting on his lip, he paused to draw in a ragged shuddering breath before drawing his legs up and slipping his fingers beneath his balls, rubbing slow, soft circles into his perineum, moaning softly at the stimulation before pulling his hand out of his briefs and peeling the tight black fabric from his crotch, his cock springing out of it’s cage of fabric to lie flush against his taut stomach.
He tossed the briefs off the bed and spread his legs, feeling positively wanton as he wrapped one hand around his cock and slid the other to his balls, alternating between rolling them between his fingers and massaging small circles into the sensitive spot below them. He moaned happily at the slow build of pleasure, eyes fluttering half shut, imagining someone else’s hands on him.
Big, warm hands, deep brown eyes, a forceful almost rough grip…
He moaned, slowing his stroke, tightening his grip and squeezing. Reaching blindly across the bed with his free hand to grab the lube and squirt it into his hand. Blessed, slick relief as the cool gel coats his cock and makes everything so much easier
His strokes are still as firm but nowhere near as slow, not with the lube speeding things along, the tingling sensation engulfing his cock, an errant glob of the lube melting into the skin below his balls, and fuck, now he’s tingling everywhere and the pressure and sensation just fuse and melt and flow into this amazing ball of fuck-yes-filthy-dirty-hot. It’s so damn good and he knows it can’t last much longer, no matter how much he holds back and tries desperately not to come, it’s going to happen soon.
His eyes flutter closed as he immerses himself in the sensation, losing himself in it, big, warm hands on his cock with a firm grip, a firm warm body behind him, big, tall, the smell of Axe and fabric softener, a hint of Bio-freeze and a lust roughened voice in his ear. “ That’s it, tell me you like it, tell me what I do to you.”
He’s babbling now, broken English, “God, fuck, so good. Need. Oh god, I need. So much.”
The voice in his ear again and an arm pulling him against that firm, warm body. “You’re so fucking hot, coming undone like this, just from my hand, like a wanton slut. You need to come, then come for me, Now.” The words hissed in his ear and one final rough stroke are all it takes for Will’s eyes to snap open as his body bows backwards against his mattress as he comes violently, shooting rope after rope of thick white jizz across his body and sheets as he screams Finn’s name before flopping bonelessly onto his bed. He’s flushed and sweaty, looking completely wrecked and debauched, grinning like a maniac as his orgasm shoots through him, head to toe like a silver lightning bolt.
He savours the afterglow, letting his breathing even out, his heart rate slow, running a finger through his come splattered chest before he tastes himself.
Fuck yeah, he could get used to this.
Now, how can he get Finn out of his head and into his bed?