Hidden Passion, M&C fic for kink_bingo possession/marking square
Because some people poke really hard (and v. messily), I'm posting this without a title. Let me know if anyone thinks of a good one! Came up with a very Romance Novel-y title!
Note: ETA Wordle at the bottom of the page
Jack loves his morning swim, but he loves Stephen better. And although Stephen is always urging him to exercise more, there are times when he prevents this particular form of exercise, quite knowingly. It thrills them both. And Jack never knows when to expect it…
Their intimacy is stolen. The Navy forbids all that they do, but as Stephen always says, without penetration there is no sodomy. It's their one rule, their one restriction. At sea, that is. On land the case is otherwise, but then, on land, they frequently have their wives to consider. So they fuck rarely, which is regrettable, because Jack quite loves the sensation of Stephen's prick moving inside him.
He has fucked Stephen occasionally, but it is not the same, although highly pleasurable to be sure. He doesn't have the words to explain how one act is so very different from the other, and he's a bit ashamed to think that something in his nature prefers the act of submission to the act of dominance, although Stephen can always soothe him with words about sharing and offering gifts to each other.
On ship, they couple in other ways when they safely can, infrequently to lessen their chances of being caught. They both know how best to come quickly or bring their partner off expeditiously. Best of all is to be both so aroused that they spend with barely a touch, and Stephen knows all the right, filthy words to say to bring them both to the brink while still fully clothed and an innocent tables-width apart.
But first thing in the morning, when they may wake at the same time, separately but mutually aroused, the level of arousal is low yet insistent. There is no time to pause for dirty talk; there must be action. Yet speed is of the essence, and neither of them are at that brink, nor anywhere near to it.
Jack knows the places to touch Stephen. Stephen knows the words to whisper in Jack's ear. Jack knows Stephen likes it when he thrusts roughly, and Stephen knows Jack likes it when he pinches his nipples. They both like it when Jack turns on his belly and Stephen spreads his cheeks and fucks between them. Stephen likes a touch of teeth when they soixante-neuf and Jack likes a finger circling his arsehole.
But there is one thing that excites them both equally and sends them off like rockets. Jack invites it each time he rolls Stephen onto his back and climbs on top of him.
Their pricks align. Jack thrusts. Stephen spreads his legs. It is the opposite, perhaps, of what they both really want, but of course they can come this way. Their pricks don't know the difference, they only feel the pressure, the rubbing, the delightful spark of friction.
But the thing about this position is that it opens up Jack's back to Stephen.
And sometimes - not too often, it would never do to do it too often - Stephen unleashes his nails, in sharp, painful swathes against Jack's skin, marking him, claiming him. The scratch of Stephen's nails sets Jack afire, and either the act itself or Jack's stifled reaction tumbles Stephen over the precipice into climax.
And for days, for blissful days filled with exchanged secret smiles, Jack must keep his shirt on, to hide Stephen's marks from the world.
For the world would never understand. The world would condemn.
They must, always, hide their love. Even so, love they must, and always shall.
This entry was originally posted at http://sid.dreamwidth.org/253001.html.
(there are currently
comments at Dreamwidth.)
Note: ETA Wordle at the bottom of the page
Jack loves his morning swim, but he loves Stephen better. And although Stephen is always urging him to exercise more, there are times when he prevents this particular form of exercise, quite knowingly. It thrills them both. And Jack never knows when to expect it…
Their intimacy is stolen. The Navy forbids all that they do, but as Stephen always says, without penetration there is no sodomy. It's their one rule, their one restriction. At sea, that is. On land the case is otherwise, but then, on land, they frequently have their wives to consider. So they fuck rarely, which is regrettable, because Jack quite loves the sensation of Stephen's prick moving inside him.
He has fucked Stephen occasionally, but it is not the same, although highly pleasurable to be sure. He doesn't have the words to explain how one act is so very different from the other, and he's a bit ashamed to think that something in his nature prefers the act of submission to the act of dominance, although Stephen can always soothe him with words about sharing and offering gifts to each other.
On ship, they couple in other ways when they safely can, infrequently to lessen their chances of being caught. They both know how best to come quickly or bring their partner off expeditiously. Best of all is to be both so aroused that they spend with barely a touch, and Stephen knows all the right, filthy words to say to bring them both to the brink while still fully clothed and an innocent tables-width apart.
But first thing in the morning, when they may wake at the same time, separately but mutually aroused, the level of arousal is low yet insistent. There is no time to pause for dirty talk; there must be action. Yet speed is of the essence, and neither of them are at that brink, nor anywhere near to it.
Jack knows the places to touch Stephen. Stephen knows the words to whisper in Jack's ear. Jack knows Stephen likes it when he thrusts roughly, and Stephen knows Jack likes it when he pinches his nipples. They both like it when Jack turns on his belly and Stephen spreads his cheeks and fucks between them. Stephen likes a touch of teeth when they soixante-neuf and Jack likes a finger circling his arsehole.
But there is one thing that excites them both equally and sends them off like rockets. Jack invites it each time he rolls Stephen onto his back and climbs on top of him.
Their pricks align. Jack thrusts. Stephen spreads his legs. It is the opposite, perhaps, of what they both really want, but of course they can come this way. Their pricks don't know the difference, they only feel the pressure, the rubbing, the delightful spark of friction.
But the thing about this position is that it opens up Jack's back to Stephen.
And sometimes - not too often, it would never do to do it too often - Stephen unleashes his nails, in sharp, painful swathes against Jack's skin, marking him, claiming him. The scratch of Stephen's nails sets Jack afire, and either the act itself or Jack's stifled reaction tumbles Stephen over the precipice into climax.
And for days, for blissful days filled with exchanged secret smiles, Jack must keep his shirt on, to hide Stephen's marks from the world.
For the world would never understand. The world would condemn.
They must, always, hide their love. Even so, love they must, and always shall.
This entry was originally posted at http://sid.dreamwidth.org/253001.html.
(there are currently
comments at Dreamwidth.)