Obedience - part 3
Author: timrod
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mmmmike
Disclaimer: I don't own Green Day. Dammit.
Obedience, part three, maybe of four.
Goes hand in handcuffs with
http://comingclean.livejournal.com/2962887.html and
http://timrod.livejournal.com/11658.html
The old native American trick worked like a dream - I was woken up at the very first sign of daylight by my bladder sending urgent messages to my brain. I ignored them for a moment, making the most of holding my sleeping man to my chest, but soon the twin desires to not piss the bed and to start the day with a bang got the better of me. I’m well-practiced at sneaking out of bed. When he was pregnant and needed to rest, I really perfected the art of getting up without disturbing him. He could sleep for a minute or two longer, and besides, I wanted to watch him wake up, all stretches and yawns and cute noises, although this morning’s wake up would be a little different from normal, I was going to make sure of that. I pissed and splashed my face with cold water, then quietly padded back to lover-boy.
He hadn’t moved an inch. We dispose of most of the covers at this time of year, and all he had over him from the waist down was a thin black sheet, the satin clinging to his every curve. And boy, does he have curves. On his side like this - his ass stuck out, his legs drawn up almost to his chest - it made the leash lay tight against his spine, the dark leather defining his shape perfectly. The collar was still loose enough around his throat, though, and I thought again how it really suited him, made his neck look even longer than it already is, but the leash was what my eyes were drawn back to, especially when I peeled the sheet rom him to examine the place where it disappeared from view between his butt cheeks. It always amazes me just how pale and perfect his skin is, as flawless as our babies between the tattoos. I resisted touching him, though, waiting until I had my moves planned out to the last detail before disturbing him.
After a couple of minutes’ deliberation, I took a bottle of lube from my nightstand drawer and greased up my thumb, cautiously easing it inside his totally relaxed body, the rest of my hand under the leash, reaching between his legs to stroke his balls with the very tips of my fingers. The leather went taut, tugging against the base of his cock and he whined, straightened and smiled, all of this without opening his eyes.
“Morning, Love.” I crooned in his ear, stretching to get a look at his waking face. His lips curled into another smile after a yawn subsided, and only then did he turn his head to stare at me.
“Mmm, great way to wake a guy up.” He chuckled, involuntary muscle spasms making him grip my thumb, and we sighed in unison. His next words were quieter, more serious in tone. “Have we got time?”
“Yeah, It’s just after six. I reckon they’ll sleep another hour, maybe longer. They were very late last night.”
“So were we, once you’d finished treating me like a dog.”
“You complaining?”
“Not a bit. It was hot. I loved it.”
“You still are by the feel of this.” I’d rubbed around to check on his state of arousal, knowing full well he would be hard, giving the leash a tug for good measure. He yelped softly, fingers inside the collar to loosen the pull, and yet he made no effort to unfasten it. My balls were tingling with anticipation, my cock too, as he rolled onto his back, trapping my hand in the warm prison underneath him. I nuzzled into his ear, kiss-whispering, “Mom’ll be here around ten, their bags are all packed up, and it won’t take more than an hour to get them fed and ready, but just to be sure, how about we fuck now, fit the foreplay in later?”
“And I’m the horny one?” His giggle was gorgeous, infectious, but fleeting as the semi-seriousness returned. “Absolutely.” He’d spotted the lube, and before I could wriggle my hand free, he was uncapping the bottle, passing it to me and spreading his legs as wide as the grin on his face. “It’s fuck time, Mikey.”
Lubing him up is always a pleasure, and one I usually draw out for as long as possible, but this morning, I wanted to do so many different things to him and with him. I moved the leash away from its natural resting place along his crack before I started the most basic of pre-fuck prep, instructing him to keep a hold on it with a voice so gruff I hardly recognised it myself. He nodded, and the collar bit a little way into his neck, the movement of his head replaced by a broken ‘okay.‘ that threatened to make me lose my shit right there and then. His face was already flushed, partly from where it had been smooshed into the funky-smelling pillow that had been under me last night, partly from the blush he gets when we are about to fuck, although I would have guessed that most of his blood was contained in his dick. I gotta stop teasing him about the size of his equipment because right now, his was more than adequate for any perverted purpose I could think of. All the time that my fingers were on him, or in him, he stared, almost never blinking, biting his lip bone-white and breathing very heavily through his nose. An honour-roll student in stupid-question-olpgy, I decided to test my skills.
“Good?”
“Good. Won’t need much.”
I nodded, knowing that for sure even before he answered. His cock twitched intermittently, the expanding dew-drop at its tip glinting in the growing light. There was a brief temptation to see how long it would take to get him off using just my fingers, but another part of my anatomy had its own opinion on that. I was kneeling between his legs, bent in two to reach him, and the sudden, urgent flexing against my belly chased that thought from my head. The last palmful of lotion was slicked around his shaft, and Billie shiver-sighed, settling to lie flat on the black satin, ready for anything I could possibly want from him.
In the end, he gave me everything, and more, and yeah, I know that’s impossible, but you would understand me perfectly if you ever fucked Billie Joe. He’s a paradox, an improbable blend of whore and virgin, wanton one moment yet shy the next. His smile was coy, but his eyes glittered with lust under his ridiculously thick lashes, bleached curls flattened by sleep now slowly springing back to form a bright halo around his head. It was his turn to bend his legs until the soles of his feet were flat on the sheet, his knees as far apart as he could get them without putting is hips out of joint. I grabbed my dick, rubbing it over his mouth before relocating to his ass, and he had not finished licking his lips by the time I was inside him.
The first sensation is always that of his ass half-resisting me, followed shortly by the glorious surrender that results in me being surrounded with his body heat. I slid all the way in thanks to the lube, and Billie sort of flinched, then made this totally hot growl, pressing himself against me until his muscles settled down. His go-ahead a few seconds later was subtle, a tiny nod which nevertheless made him gasp and grab at the collar again, but he adjusted his grip on the leash and mouthed ‘I’m okay‘.
I nearly wasn’t. I had to stay motionless for a moment that felt like hours, torn between the two options open to me - hard and short and fucking hot, or slow and deep and immensely satisfying for both of us. The second option won me over, and I started to make love to him gently, managing to keep a healthy distance from my orgasm against all the laws of nature.
His responses were amazing, ranging from rhythmic grunts to the breathy repetition of the word ‘yes’, interleaved with my name and a litany of curse-words that contained no anger. I leaned in to kiss him, almost separating from his body in the process, and his frantic reactions to that gave me an idea that would test just how much control I actually had over him - and over myself. As our lips parted, he was eager for another barrage of long, sensual strokes, but I changed my plan of attack, either simply rubbing my dick over him, or at most, barely penetrating beyond that initial barrier. He whimpered, wriggling to get closer, to get more length inside him, but as soon as I whispered ‘no’, he stopped, although he gave me one of those pleading looks that would have broken a lesser man.
“Be patient, Love. Enjoy.”
“Yeah, but ..... the kids ...”
“We’ve got time, I promise.” I reassured him with another kiss to his nose that set him whining again. “You can come like this, yes?”
“God, yeah. Feels wonderful, but ..…”
“That’s what I was hoping for. I want you to feel wonderful.”
“You’re wonderful, Mikey. Love you.”
“Just keep the leash out of my way, and leave your dick alone, okay? Love you too.”
He nodded shallowly, this time remembering the restriction around his throat, and I realised just how much of an understatement my last words had been. He always looks amazing during sex, but this morning the simple restraints I had put on him added a whole lot more hot into the equation. That contradiction thing does it for me, too. This trusting, compliant creature bore no resemblance at all to the arrogant showman the rest of the world knows. It’s a side of him only I have the privilege of seeing, and fuck, I am just the luckiest guy in the world for that reason alone.
I began to think I was being a little ambitious with my own body, and then he started wriggling again. Not bearing down on me like before, but rolling from side to side, at least getting some sensation against his skin, if not in the place he really wanted it. He was trembling, his breath short and shaky, and it was beautiful to watch. I quickly squirted a little more lotion on us to lubricate this strange half-fuck, and he gave me a weak thumbs-up with the hand that was not occupied in keeping the tension in the leash. Sometimes he relaxed his hold on the leather, pulling it back out of our way almost immediately, nearly every time a little harder than was necessary. It made him twitch and moan, or arch his back, which in turn tightened the collar and made him cry out again. Like I said, love is an inadequate word when your partner is hotter than hot.
We managed to hold out for far a good long time, me adding to the tease with a scant handful of quick, deep thrusts, and him by moving with me, denying my cock the friction that it needed, frustrating but absolutely delicious. The sun was edging over the horizon, painting our white bedroom walls orange with its glow, reflected by the mirror above the bed onto Billie’s luminous skin, deep shadows thrown over him where my body shielded him from the light. We were both working up quite a sweat now, his serving to darken his curls to their natural mid-brown at the roots, mine making my longer than usual hair fall to give me nothing to focus on but him. It’s weird, because on stage, I rarely break a sweat after two and a half, there hours under spotlights, sometimes with pyrotechnics that have been known to give Frankie a temporary tan. Our room was cool, and this really wasn’t the most energetic of fucks, but we were going to need to change the bedding afterwards for sure. His legs were a little closer together now, so that he could make the most of what relatively little contact I was allowing him, and my hands were on his knees, helping me to keep upright, although the skin was slippery with lube and sweat, making it hard to balance. I was aware that I was leaving red handprints over him, and I slid to a new position, brushing fingers lightly over his thighs, and suddenly, his breathing rate changed dramatically. His hips jerked from the bed, a look of shock on his face as he pulled a little too hard on the leash and a cataclysmic orgasm overtook him. Huge milky pools spread over his stomach, with me no more than a tantalising inch inside him. He squeezed tight around me, the circular muscle contracting violently overy time another droplet oozed onto his belly.
I was shaking, too, by now, overwhelmed by the sheer physicality of the moment, and desperate to come, I grabbed his calves, bending his legs up to touch his chest. With a growled order for him to hold them, I plunged in balls-deep, pile-driving into him to extend his climax and achieve my own, both of us fighting to suppress screams that would surely have woken the whole neighbourhood, let alone our children sleeping a few yards down the hallway.
I don’t know which one of us was more surprised - him by the orgasm that seemed to come (no pun intended) out of nowhere, or me by my almost brutal treatment of my lover, but exhilaration made me in no hurry to let him move just yet. The puddles flowed, diverting into streams where his skin creased, in places dripping down his sides on to our poor, abused bedding, but for now, the mess meant nothing. Each time either of us as much as twitched, it made him gasp, prompting a tug at the collar. which of course made me twitch again. I wanted to keep that going for him, prolong that spark in his eyes, and I leaned forward to the nightstand drawer, the weight of my body keeping me inside him whilst I scrabbled through the toys. He yelped a little, but I shushed him, effectively quietening him completely by pressing a small, smooth object into his shock-slackened mouth.
He went along with it, sucking like a baby with a pacifier, although this was most definitely an adult accessory - a black butt-plug no longer than my thumb, and probably no bigger in diameter, bought for us as a wedding present by one of our more naive, straight friends, and until now, unused. I twisted it between his lips and he hummed, blinking slowly to let me know that he was perfectly comfortable with my intentions. I felt my heart thud extra hard, and I murmured the only word in my mind:
“Angel.”
For once he didn’t deny the compliment, simply blinking again and darkening the flush on his face. His flickering tongue moved the thing around as he slicked it with saliva, and it made me think of when he sucks me. Cue another twitch. I sat back a little to admire the view, although not enough to pull out of him fully. The aftershocks were less frequent, weaker, and it was time to replace me with the warm, slippery silicone before they stopped altogether. He lifted his head, watching our reflections intently as I screwed it into him, flashing me that shy, knowing smile once more when it finally locked into place. I dropped to lie at his side, giving him room to let his legs fall to the mattress. and it was only now that it hit me just how much effort I had put into that final minute or so. I yawned, right in his face, and as my mouth closed, he slipped his tongue into it and I let him kiss me.
Our respiration evened out during the kiss, slowly but surely, our thumping hearts less audible above the soft hums of pleasure mixing in our mouths. He kisses like a demon, his tongue flickering around inside me like a candle flame in the wind, and his teeth scraping over my lips. I loved it, but I wanted that after-foreplay some time very soon, and of course, so did he. Even so shortly after the half-fuck of the century, I could feel the regular pulse of his cock regaining its hardness between our sticky bellies. Mine too, to be honest. There’s something about Billie’s kisses that could give the straightest guy on the planet an erection, so my cock stood no chance of getting some rest. I gave him a little encouragement and he broke away to lie on his back and give my hand room to manoeuvre.
“Y’alright?” I might have had more breath to spare right now, but there seemed no sense in wasting it.
“Yeah, great. We still got it, Mikey.”
“Yeah, we do.” I gave him another grope-and-rub, and a smile that was actually a leer. “Ready to go again?” His response was an even more lecherous grin, and a long lick of his lips. It’s his less than subtle way of asking me to go down on him, and as tempting as that was, I wanted to be the one to dictate what we were going to do. After all, my last experiment in pseudo-dominance had worked out pretty damn well for both of us.
“I’ll take that as a yes, shall I?”