FIC: Peace on Earth, Goodwill Towards Men, NC-17
Here’s a bit of seasonal smut I wrote on Christmas day as a naughty gift for my f-list. Just a quickie little Christmas fic I wrote in two sittings, so it’s not very polished. No plot, but a lot of sex and a little Christmas fluff
Title: Peace on Earth, Goodwill Towards Men
Author: missviolet
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: PWP - no semblance of a plot here
Disclaimer: All characters belong to David Shore, Fox, et. al. No infringement or disrespect intended.
Summary: House and Wilson celebrate Christmas
Notes: First-person House POV! Just trying something new.
I’m sitting in my yellow chair, mentally debriefing my latest case, when Wilson walks into my office, drinking a paper cup of hot cocoa and sucking on a peppermint stick. Not a cane, just the stick.
“I’ve got something for you,” he says, locking the door. He lowers the blinds, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t get up, and he comes over and sits on the ottoman at my feet.
“A Christmas present?” I ask.
“How did you guess?” I stare at him sucking the peppermint. He pulls it from his mouth, then slowly, deliberately, pushes it back in. He sucks on it with plain enjoyment, and as he does so, rolls up the sleeves of his shirt.
“’Tis the season,” I reply. He knows I can’t take my eyes off him, the tease. He’s irresistible in his dorky sweater-vest and red-and-green striped holiday tie.
He stirs the hot chocolate with the peppermint stick. “It’s good this way. Want some?” he asks, passing me the cup. I take it from him, remove the peppermint stick, and drink deeply. The mint cuts through the chocolate delightfully. I put the cup down and take the peppermint stick and trace it around his gorgeous lips and gently pry at his teeth until he opens his mouth and I push it in with a quiet gasp of surprise and pleasure at my own naughtiness.
He sucks at the peppermint, and at my fingers holding it, and when I’m sighing under his teasing tongue, and working the candy in and out of his luscious lips, he finally sinks from the ottoman and drops to his knees, his head in my lap.
“Merry Christmas, House,” he says, and presses his lips to the crotch of my jeans, blowing warm air all over my cock, which quickly hardens under his loving ministrations. He sucks and blows me through my jeans, making me buck my hips and pant for more.
“Shhh..” he says, “We wouldn’t want anyone to overhear. Promise to be quiet,” he says, unbuckling my belt. I can’t make any such guarantee; I moan when he fishes me out, cupping my balls fondly as settles himself in, and then, at last, his ruby lips softly enclose the head of my cock, sucking delicately.
“God, yes,” I gasp out when he takes me deeper into his hot wet mouth. I look down at him, and he’s gorgeous, eyes half-closed, cherry lips sliding over my engorged prick. He looks up at me, and our eyes lock as he sucks me, and that makes me groan with a hot thrill of lust.
Wilson lets my prick slip from his mouth and urges me again to be quiet. Yes, yes, I assure him impatiently. My wet cock throbs against my belly. His mouth is inches away. Please, I whisper, and his warm mouth encloses me again, nice and deep, a little more suction this time, and as he sucks, his fingers tease my balls. I work my prick in and out of his willing mouth. My fingers rake through his hair, tugging affectionately as his clever tongue hits the sensitive underside of my cock-head.
Wilson blows me expertly, bobbing his head to plunge my swollen cock in and out of his tight mouth, teasing my swollen shaft so delightfully, and I’m swooning in a daze of intense sexual pleasure. Each clever stroke of his tongue sends me further into an agony of delight, until I’m pumping my hips into his mouth, trying to suppress my small gasping cries of pleasure.
“Oh, honey,” I pant out, “ohhh…suck me,” and other loving and filthy words, but it’s no good, I can’t keep quiet as he sucks and tongues me expertly until I explode all over his gorgeous lips. He quickly engulfs me, sucks me artfully while I come hard, pulsing into his hot mouth, gasping out Jimmy, oh yes, oh, suck and all kinds of lewd nonsense. He keeps on tonguing and sucking, flicking his tongue over that sweet sensitive spot, so that it takes forever for me to finish. I groan hard, shake with lust as my cock twitches and throbs out the last of my spend into his hot luscious mouth.
Finally I start to soften, and Wilson lets my prick drop from his lips. He pulls out a handkerchief from his vest pocket and dabs his lips, then rubs my stomach fondly, cleaning me up and tucking back into my jeans.
“Wilson…” I sigh contentedly. I want him to stay awhile, maybe squeeze in next to me in the armchair. I guess I want to cuddle him, and who can blame me, the way he looks with his hair slightly mussed, face a little red from his erotic labour, and his shirt sleeves rolled up like he means business.
He straightens his sweater vest and smooths back his hair. “I’ve got to get back to work. I want to leave by dinnertime,” he says, kissing me quickly on the lips. Then, as suddenly as he’s arrived, he’s gone. I pick up the empty cocoa cup and put the half-eaten stick of peppermint in my mouth.
It’s 6:00, my patient will live, albeit an uncomfortable life spent on hormone replacement therapy. The fellows are long gone and there’s no reason for me to remain in the office. I walk out into the conference room. The three of them had their Christmas party yesterday in our conference room. I attended long enough to spike a glass of eggnog and receive a tin of gingerbread men from 13. Homemade. I hoped she wasn’t going to be as cloying as Cameron. The tin was on the counter and I slipped a few gingerbread men into my coat pocket. I walked out to the hallway. Wilson’s light was still on, as I knew it would be. We had some unfinished business. I poked my head into his office and asked for a ride home.
“I took my bike, and now it’s snowing,” I said, doing my best to sound pitiful, and Wilson didn’t ask why I was suddenly so cautious about precipitation. I think we both knew the reason, and that he wasn’t going back to his hotel tonight. He needed a few minutes to finish up so I went down to the coffee machine. It made a passable cappuccino, by dint of a lot of froth. I filled up a cardboard cup and met Wilson out in the parking lot. He unlocked the car and got in.
“Want a gingerbread man?” I asked, offering him one. He looked at it in surprise, so I bit the head off one and offered him the remainder of the body.
“Sure,” he said, taking it and nibbling gently.
“It’s good if you dip it,” I said, dipping the other one into the cappuccino. “Try.” I passed the cup to Wilson and he dunked his gingerbread man and took a bite of the coffee-laden cookie.
“It is good,” said Wilson. We dunked and ate our cookies in silence and I drank the rest of the cappuccino. Wilson put the key in the ignition and I put my hand over his to stop him from starting the car.
“Wait a minute,” I say. “That was a killer blow job. You rushed off before I could thank you properly.”
“You’re welcome,” says Wilson, flushing with pleasure.
“Turnabout’s fair play,” I say, and kiss him deeply. I know he’s still ready; it’s not been 15 minutes since I came into his mouth, crying out all sorts of dirty and affectionate words. I know how that drives him crazy, when I gasp out his pet name in the throes of pleasure. And it’s no surprise that his lips are still hot and wet, and that he tongues me eagerly and opens his mouth as we begin a heavy make-out session.
It’s good to kiss him, I feel my pulse flutter again as our tongues meet, and a spark of pleasure hits me. Making out with James Wilson, oh, God, I never imagined it would be this good, the way he sighs and opens his mouth and leans so far into the kiss. My hands slide under his sweater, under his shirt, finding his nipples. I tweak them and he gasps into my mouth.
“I’m going to make you come in my mouth,” I whisper in his ear.
“Right here?” he swallows nervously.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said, as if admitting something. That I can’t wait to get him home to give it to him? I moved from his lips to his neck, relishing all the little sensitive points, biting gently, licking and tonguing, making him writhe in his seat. I kiss him over and over again, prolonging his anticipation, making him ready. He sighs, cants his hips forward, and I rest my palm over the bulge in his khaki trousers. I love that he’s so willing, so eager for it, always-randy Wilson such a contrast to his tidy, well-groomed image. I palm him firmly, feeling his cock harden under my touch. He kisses me urgently, prying open my lips with his eager tongue, and slides his erection back and forth against my flattened hand.
“You’re ready for it, aren’t you,” I murmur fondly, unzipping him. He gasps out yes as my hands find him, and I stroke a few times to make him nice and stiff. It doesn’t take much to ready him, and his hot kisses, his gaping mouth and twining tongue, tells me all his senses are utterly enflamed.
It’s no easy feat, sucking his prick with the bulky console between us, but I manage to bend low enough to take it in my mouth, and Wilson’s luscious moan is worth the effort. He works his cock in and out of my mouth, uttering soft little cries of delight as my tongue-lashing stiffens him. It swells up to a beautiful length and size, and I suck it fondly, paying particular attention to the swollen head, the sensitive slit and underside, before sinking all the way down to push his prick deep into my willing mouth.
Wilson sighs, he thrusts his hips, he grabs handfuls of my hair and tugs, not too gently. I suck and lick, bob my head so that his cock plunges in and out of my mouth. Wilson’s breathless moans, the soft sucking sound of my mouth sinking down on his engorged prick, are so erotic, I feel my own pulse start to race, and my cock responds sympathetically. The rhythm grows faster; Wilson’s fingers scrabble in my hair.
“God, yes, House, it feels fantastic,” he moans, with surprising clarity. I decide he’s far too self-possessed and suck harder, bob faster, and flick my tongue over the sweet spot beneath the head. I take him deep, then let him drop from my lips and lick just the head with my tongue. I suck and tease, making him moan and gasp in a ragged, pleading voice.
“Oh, House, ohhhh yes, you tease, suck me…harder... oh, yes,” and Wilson comes with a groan of agonized pleasure. His body goes rigid, and his cock spurts. I make sure to suck him off thoroughly, to keep on tonguing him and sliding my lips up and down until his cock stops pulsing, his soft lustful cries finally cease, and with a hard groan he pushes my lips away.
I straighten up; there’s an awful crick in my back but it’s well worth it, to be the cause of Wilson’s gorgeous climax. Again I’m struck by the contrast, as he straightens his shirtsleeves, between Dr. Wilson the respected oncologist, with his sweater vests and pocket protectors, and this randy little minx who enjoys getting sucked off in a supply closet or a quickie hand-job in an exam room after-hours.
“That was nice,” Wilson says, exhaling loudly. As usually he’s a little embarrassed after an explosive orgasm. I rub his leg fondly and, looking in the glove compartment, find some napkins with which to clean him up a little. Then I give him a long kiss, full of sweet promise. We exchange kisses, Wilson’s is sated, mine a little edgy, because his noisy climax has got me going again, he’s so adorable when he comes.
“Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asks, and it sounds all naïve and sweet. It makes me laugh and then Wilson feel utterly at ease. I think of him in my bed, stripped of his conservative khakis and his tasseled loafers and white shirt, his naked body wrapped around mine. I shiver, a little frisson of lust and anticipation.
“Cold?” asks Wilson, fiddling with the digital thermostat.
“Hot, actually,” I say, looking at him with one eyebrow raised. Wilson laughs at my ridiculously obvious innuendo. It doesn’t stop him from driving a little too fast, with one hand on my thigh, and when we stop at a red light, his hand creeps a little higher, checking me out, and finding my erection, he makes a small noise of appreciation. I ease my hips forward, pressing my cock against his hand. He squeezes me obligingly. He’s got that sly smile, that twinkle in his soft beautiful eyes, that means he’ll be a frisky bedfellow tonight.
“Light’s changed,” I say, my voice strained a bit because my cock is starting to throb under his touch. The road is quiet, there’s no-one behind us, so Wilson ignores the green light, leans over and gives me an open-mouthed kiss, palming my cock through my jeans, soft little love bites on my lower lip, my neck, driving me crazy. A car honks at us and, startled, Wilson stops kissing me and drives off.
He pulls another peppermint stick out from his coat pocket, unwraps it with his teeth, and puts it in his mouth, sucking loudly, pushing it in and out between his full rosy lips. I’m captivated by the sight, and I think he knows it, the way he sucks and licks at the candy, stealing coy glances at me to see how I’m reacting to his little show.
“Can I have a lick?” I ask him, and he passes me the peppermint stick. I suck on it, feeling the warmth of his mouth still lingering on the candy. I close my eyes, tasting the sweet peppermint, the feeling of his hand still on my thigh, the sound of my own quickened breath.
“I can’t wait to undress you,” says Wilson, ever the romantic. I’m touched, and curiously grateful for his sweetness, his loyalty and love. Improbably, I’m thinking all kinds of sentimental nonsense about the spirit of the season as he pulls up in front of my apartment, parks the car. I don’t say anything, but I think he knows as he takes the peppermint stick from my mouth and kisses me again, a long, minty kiss, until my heart pounds in my chest and I can’t keep my mouth on his for panting.
“Ready?” he asks me, and I let my head fall back, and groan softly. Ah, Wilson, what better Christmas present but a gorgeously nerdy Jewish doctor who just happens to be a complete wanton between the sheets.
“Let’s go,” I answer him, and together we make our way inside, shedding coats and gloves on my sofa, going straight to the bedroom where, as promised, Wilson undresses me.
“Did I already wish you a Merry Christmas?” he asks me, as his naked body touches mine. I shudder and hold him close, feeling my cock throb against his, sliding my hands down to his beautiful ass, biting his smooth shoulders, his cherry lips.
“You can say it again,” I tell him breathlessly, but he doesn’t have a chance, because our lips meet and then it’s all fierce kisses, and sweet moans, and neither of us can talk any sense at all. In the privacy of my apartment, we can cry out in passion, moan loudly, say all kinds of lewd and loving words to each other, and Wilson lets himself go. My hands roam all over his body, my lips enclose the head of his straining prick, and he’s so responsive, so uninhibited, that I push a moistened finger between his ass cheeks and up into his sweet little hole. He cries out softly, and I wait until he gets used to the feeling before seeking out that little sensitive nub that I know will drive him wild. I rub and suck, and he gasps and shudders and pushes his cock into my mouth, sinks his ass down onto my fingers until I can feel him twitching around me.
I let his cock slip from my mouth, but keep my finger buried in his ass, stroking his prostate, making him work himself on my finger. “Want me to fuck you?” I ask, worried that he’ll say no. We’ve never done more than finger each other.
“Yesss,” he sighs, face flushed. His hips are still thrusting, pushing his stiffened cock into the empty air. I give him a few more loving sucks, until he starts to gasp out, then I remove my finger and make myself ready. I want to make sure it won’t hurt him, so I make us nice and slick, rubbing the oil over our cocks and his hole, and all over his midsection, so that when I finally lay on top of him, we slide together.
My prick throbs at the prospect of fucking Wilson. I don’t want to take it too fast, so I rub and push the head of my cock against his entrance, using one hand to guide it, and the other to stroke and tease his prick. He shudders, and lifts his ass. I take this as a cue that it feels good, and slide the head of my prick inside of him. It’s tight, oh so deliciously tight, and I want to thrust hard and bury myself, but I’m patient. I slide in slowly, and Wilson groans, and I’m not sure if it’s pleasure or discomfort.
“All right?” I whisper, leaning down. I rub my slippery hands all over his chest, pinch his nipples, tongue-kiss him until I feel his ass contract around my throbbing cock. I push in a little deeper, and Wilson lifts his hips to ease my entrance. Another inch and I’m all the way in. I lean down, bury my face in his neck. God, it’s good, his tight ass squeezes around my delighted prick, my balls press up against him, and my belly rubs against his own swollen cock.
I move slowly, drawing out slightly, and as I do so, my belly presses down on his cock, making him gasp. I push in, adjusting myself to hit the sweet spot, and he groans as I find it, jogging his hips so the head of my cock strokes him again and again. I lean down to kiss, working my hips gently so as not to hurt him, but he wraps his legs around me, draws me close, and thrusts his hips to make me fuck him faster.
“Feel good?” I pant.
“Ah, yes. Fuck….fuck me,” Wilson groans, and I look down adoringly at his straining body, his swollen lips and flushed face. He’s gorgeous, his chestnut hair all mussed, looking at me wantonly with eyes half-lidded with pleasure. My cock is like iron, throbbing in his tight sheath. His muscles contract, milking me.
“You’re so tight,” I whisper, and I can’t stop my hips from pistoning into him, but he only moans louder, and suddenly we’re fucking hard. I rub my belly all over his cock each time I thrust, and I know that he’s feeling it, because each thrust makes him pant and sob and his cock throbs wetly between us.
I’m fucking him as hard as any woman, my balls slapping against his ass, our lusty cries filling the room. When I slow down to kiss him, he grabs my ass cheeks, forcing my body to his. “Don’t stop,” he whispers raggedly, and I reach down between us and start to jerk him off in time with my thrusts. At my touch, his ass clenches around my rock-hard prick, making me gasp out. I can’t help thrusting into him as I jerk him off, feeling overwhelmed with pleasure, my cock throbbing in his tight little hole, his cock throbbing in my hand, both of us wet and gasping and fast approaching the peak of pleasure.
He comes first, and when I see that he’s reaching the point of no return, I give him the short, fast little thrusts of my hips to make sure the head of my prick strokes his prostate over and over again, and he goes wild for it. His fingers dig into my back, he works his ass, driving my prick even faster into him. He clumsily covers my hand with his own to make me jerk him faster.
“God, yes, fuck me now, harder,” he pleads, and his face is flushed bright red. I pound him into the mattress, squeezing his stiff prick. His ass tightens and twitches around me and then I feel his whole body explode against me. His body is shaking and trembling with a pleasure so intense, he sobs as the first jets spurt from his cock.
“Feels good, yes?” I ask him in a shaky voice. He moans loudly, ass clenching as the come spurts from him. I can’t hold off, and drive into him in a frenzy of pleasure. His hole still twitches around me, and I can feel the last drops of come pulsing from his delighted prick. I shudder hard, my body tenses, and I spurt deep inside of him with a hard sob. It’s beyond delicious, the way his ass contracts around my spending cock, milking out every last drop from my balls. I seek out his lips, kiss hard and messy as my body shakes in a crisis of lust.
“Mmmm, yesss,” I moan, and rest my face against his neck. He’s still panting, and each time my cock throbs, he shudders. It seems to take forever for me to stop coming, even after I can feel the last spurts leak out, I’m still hard, and he’s still shuddering around my stiff cock. It feels so good that I don’t want to pull out, so I rest my body against him.
“What a sweet fuck you are, Jimmy,” I say fondly, with my usual mix of dirty and affectionate words that always follows a hard climax.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” he says in a tired voice. I lean heavily on him, close my eyes. I want to stay this way always, connected to him, sharing the thrill of climax so intensely. But finally my cock softens, slips out of him. His belly is a sodden mess, and I rub it fondly. He slips one arm around my shoulder, draws me close for one last spent kiss. As we fall into a deep sleep, I’m filled with a sense of tranquility, peace, and dare I say, goodwill to men.