Encore

by Jane Davitt




"Again." Jim licked his lips, less, Blair thought, hazily, because they were dry, than to taste the residue of Blair's come, spit, sweat, judging by the way Jim closed his eyes for a moment, savoring. "More."

Jim seemed to have lost the ability to form sentences. Not that Blair felt up to making speeches either; he'd forgotten how to do more with his mouth than moan or shape a circle to be fucked.

Blair rolled to his back to let his skin dry a little. Sweat coated him and the slightest breeze made him shiver, his skin so sensitized that the minute change in temperature as the dampness cooled and dried felt like a slap.

He had sentinel skin. Jim had rubbed off on him. The thought -- and the equally true alternative meaning -- made him grin even as he groped for Jim's hand, unwilling to lose all contact. Jim's fingers parted, allowing Blair's to slide between them, force them wider, and Blair groaned, heartfelt, exhausted, turned on again, dammit…

He let his thoughts drift back to the start, needing to catalog, classify, correlate, but his head filled with images instead and arousal began to build. Tonight had been special. Different. In the months since they'd become lovers, the sex had been as frequent as they could make it given their schedules. The novelty of being able to get a blow job just by looking at Jim, catching his attention, licking his lips and glancing down -- the subtle approach -- hadn't worn off yet, and if they still hadn't fucked out on the balcony (are you insane, Sandburg? You try it and I'll have to arrest you -- oh, very funny. You want sex, put my cuffs back in the drawer and get your ass upstairs) they'd used every other room in the place, and most of the furniture.

Sex had been the last thing on Blair's mind when he walked in after a tutoring session that had dragged on. Jim looked up and gave him the brief smile that replaced a kiss for them -- too risky to get in the habit of saying hello and goodbye with a hug and a lip-lock -- and Blair smiled back and walked over to help Jim with supper. Jim pushed a head of lettuce over to him to be washed and they chatted idly until Jim, grinning over Blair's account of a typo that had rendered a sentence in an essay both obscene and hilarious, gave Blair a playful nudge with his hip. Blair grinned back and drew his hand along the Trans-Continental line of Jim's long spine, from one area of natural beauty to another, and gave Jim's ass a pat and a squeeze, a casually proprietary caress.

He wasn't prepared for the effect it had. The knife in Jim's hand hit the counter with a clatter and the pepper he'd been slicing was thrust away. His hands empty, Jim clutched at the countertop, his fingers spread, flexing, and then turned his head to stare at Blair, his expression blank until the hunger and need surfaced. Blair heard himself make a choked sound and then it all got a little on the fuzzy side.

Jim's hands. On his face, warm, demanding. Clothes getting pulled off in stages, the act abandoned as soon as sufficient skin had been exposed, so that Blair's T-shirt had hung around his neck for a while before finally getting yanked over his head, because Jim's first goal had been Blair's nipples and his second the back of Blair's neck.

Kisses. Lots of kisses. Jim's mouth tasting of nothing but Jim and tasting so good that Blair had dragged Jim back up from his knees, letting his cock bob, abandoned, because he wanted one more kiss, one more hit from that perfect, hungry mouth.

This -- a sudden heat flaring up from nowhere -- had happened to Blair before with other lovers, but it had never lasted this long. They'd abandoned whatever they were doing, got naked, fucked, got back to the interrupted task, bodies humming pleasantly, goofy smiles in place.

Jim had stopped chopping that pepper, green, with a flush of red showing as it rolled away, two hours ago.

Blair stretched and moaned happily. What then? Oh, yeah… Sixty-nine, until they'd stopped on the brink because it was getting too difficult to split their attention between what was being done to them and what they were doing, his mouth tingling from being stretched and fucked, his fingers delving into the crease of Jim's ass, finding damp, musky skin and rubbing at it, wanting that earthy, intimate stink on his fingers, letting his primitive side out. Then he'd ridden Jim, that solid cock slamming into him, over and over, pain and pleasure mixing, and the first hadn't mattered because he wanted -- wanted -- that yes, that, Jim's hands on his body holding him still as he writhed, impaled, possessed, and felt Jim come inside him.

He'd stayed there, Jim still hard in him, up him, and jerked off, his hand slow, his breath jerky gasps, Jim's eyes watching him, his gaze flickering from Blair's face to his cock. His body had been screaming at him for faster, tighter; let me come, but Jim's face as he watched… Blair wasn't losing that sight before he had to.

Slow, teasingly slow, until Jim had been the one begging, please, Blair, please, come, come on me, please, babe, let me feel it, let me --

And it hadn't been enough. They'd collapsed, cleaned up, started to cuddle, murmuring nonsense to each other, and then Jim had kissed him and that taste was still there and Blair had felt his spent body revive. God, he'd left bruises on Jim, grabbing him tight so that he could push his cock along that groove of skin and bone at Jim's hip, Jim's mouth hot and hurting him just right as Jim chewed at Blair's shoulder, his own hips hammering away.

Come-streaked and sweaty, and they'd still gone one more round, after, yeah, maybe an hour of dozing. Blair had woken to find Jim's finger in his ass, along with enough lube to make him wonder if Jim was planning on inserting more than a couple of fingers, but he was still floating, euphoric, something in him that wanted to play dirty, be a baaaad boy for Jim, still wide awake.

And Jim felt the same way. Blair had never seen Jim this uninhibited, this frankly greedy for everything Blair had got. He'd had Jim's tongue corkscrewing its way up his ass for the first time, wet and soft and reducing him to helpless, squirming, had Jim whispering filthy sweet words in his ear, promises he'd used to get Blair hot and then delivered on a moment later. He'd had Jim, open, giving, loving, demanding and it was a rush.

They couldn't keep this level of intensity much longer but Blair planned to enjoy it while it lasted. And now he knew just what Jim could do and what Jim liked having done to him…oh, man, were they going to have fun.

He smiled up at the ceiling.

"More?" he asked Jim, knowing what the answer would be.

"Yeah." Jim let go of Blair's hand and went onto his stomach, lifting his hips for just long enough to arrange his cock a little better. He was half-hard, Blair noticed, the shaft reddened in places where Blair's teeth had caught at it. Jim moved, rubbing himself against the cover in a restless, purposeful ripple of muscle. "Come on, Chief… give it to me. Want you in me."

He sounded demanding, but there was something in the sidelong glance Blair got that was more plaintive, a child denied a treat. As far as Blair was concerned, it was a treat Jim could have any time he liked; he loved fucking Jim, his hands roaming over the smooth, heavily muscled body, balls-deep inside Jim's ass as Jim moaned happily, spreading wider, welcoming each thrust, slow or hard, his expression verging on blissful.

Blair had never seen anyone get off on being fucked the way Jim did, but trying to get Jim to talk about why it felt so good for him had gotten Blair nothing but a stony glare and, when he persisted, his curiosity driving him past caution, a week of no sex at all, with Jim pointedly jerking off in the bathroom before coming up to bed, his cock limp and happy.

It had taken a really fervent apology to get Jim bent over the couch again, radiating smugness, but Blair would have given it on his knees at that point.

"Oh, you're gonna get it," Blair told him. He glanced down and grimaced. "Okay, maybe not right this second…"

"Huh?" Jim frowned. "Why not?"

Blair pointed at his cock, soft, pink, tidied away for the night. "You know that saying about the spirit being willing? Looks like I'm just not gonna be able to get it up again tonight." He glanced at the clock. Eight thirty. "Well, not until we go to bed."

"We're in bed," Jim said irritably.

"You know what I mean." Blair gave Jim's ass a slap -- and even the anticipatory lift of Jim's ass to meet his hand didn't work. His head was sizzling, full of gently lustful thoughts, but his cock was on strike. "Either wait until we've cleaned up, eaten, maybe watched a movie -- porn, if you want -- or fuck me; I'm up for that."

Jim rolled onto his side. "I already did fuck you. I want you in me." His face contorted and he shuddered. "God, Blair, I -- I need it, okay. I know that sounds crazy after what we've just done, but it feels like without it we're not finished."

"Hey," Blair said softly, inching closer and wrapping himself around Jim in a hug. "I get it. I just can't give it to you. I'm lying here and I'm still turned on, still want you just as much as I did when we started this, but I just -- I can't get hard again this soon. God, you're lucky I didn't quit hours ago."

Jim made a frustrated, pained sound that hurt Blair to hear. He rubbed his face against Jim's and kissed the hot cheek. "How about my fingers? Or I'll rim you?"

Jim shook his head, his silence speaking for him.

"Dildo?" They had a couple, both belonging to Blair, like all their toys. Jim had apparently made it to his fourth decade without buying anything to use in bed beside lube and condoms. Blair was better-equipped.

"Maybe," Jim said reluctantly. "Better than nothing, if you're the one using it on me -- but I really wanted you fucking -- oh, never mind."

Blair chewed his lip. "Uh, there's something we could do," he said. "You remember you said I could use anything in bed as long as it didn't belong to one of my ex-girlfriends?"

"Or boyfriends."

"Or boyfriends, right." Blair rolled his eyes. Jim had taken one look at what had been Steve's favorite paddle, inhaled sharply, and curled his lip. If he'd been a cat, he'd have buried it in his litter tray.

"So?"

"So Louise was into pegging," Blair said bluntly. "And leaving for that Borneo trip the way she did, with one hour to pack and the plane about to take off, well, getting her gear back off me was the last thing on her mind."

Louise had been fun, but she'd played a little too rough; Blair's ass had required a cushion for two days after one session with her and that fucking purple dildo with the ridges.

Jim took a deep breath and Blair held up his hand to ward off a refusal that would paint Jim into a corner. "It's use her harness and you get the closest I can give you to the real thing, or I'll use one of our dildos and make it as good as I can for you. You choose."

It was hard watching the struggle play out on Jim's face; Blair found his hand cupped around the lax weight of his cock, squeezing it roughly in a vain attempt to get a response.

"Do it," Jim said finally, with the distaste in his eyes already mellowing to anticipation. "But you'd better make me scream, Chief."

Blair leaned over and set his teeth in the meat of Jim's ass cheek, biting hard and sucking until the skin was warm against his tongue. "You know I will," he promised, his voice throaty.

And his cock still wouldn't get in the game.

The nylon harness Louise had left behind was a jock-style one in plain black. Blair had tried it on, curious, the dildo in place in the O-ring, curving up over his own erection, and then grinned when she tossed him the lube. "Both? Me and it at the same time?" His cock had throbbed as he pictured it.

"Big bites, Blair." She snapped her teeth at him, eyes glittering. "Got to take big bites of life."

It hadn't worked so well; Blair hadn't been shy, but it had been something that needed some practice. They'd ended up with the strap-on abandoned somewhere at the bottom of the bed, but the sex that followed had been hot, no doubt about it.

Now, kneeling behind Jim, with just one hole to fill, Blair felt more confident. He guided the tip of the dildo to Jim's hole, both of them glistening with lube, and pushed. It felt strange to see something connected to him vanish inside Jim, met with a low moan, and not feel anything. The harness wasn't uncomfortable at this stage, but this definitely wasn't something they'd be doing again soon.

Jim arched his back and an inch more of the dildo slipped inside the stretching hole. "Put it in me," Jim said, his voice unsteady. "Slowly, but do it, Blair --"

His hands on Jim's ass, feeling less in control than he normally did kneeling behind Jim, about to fuck him, Blair eased back and then pushed inside Jim, again and again, going deeper every time, until Jim's hole was filled, wide. He leaned over and kissed Jim's back, tasting salt-sweat. "How does it feel?"

"It's not you." There was a thread of amusement in Jim's voice, a lessening of the urgency that had been driving him -- but as Blair smiled, Jim lowered his head, the back of his neck exposed, vulnerable. "But it's good, feels -- oh God, fuck me!"

Something in that submissive pose and the sheer need in Jim's voice triggered a response in Blair. He drew his hand down Jim's back in an echo of the caress that had started this session, and ended with his palm filled with the curve of Jim's ass. He drew back his hand and slapped Jim hard enough that it left his hand stinging and a red print rising on Jim's flank. Jim gave a sobbing, grateful whimper and Blair slipped his hand around to fondle Jim's cock and balls, a comprehensive exploration that made Jim turn his head to stare at him with lust-dazed eyes, his lips parted.

Blair smiled at him, his face flushed as if he'd been drinking and his vision graying out from exhaustion and a baffled arousal that couldn't find a physical outlet. He wanted this as much as Jim but he just couldn't -- Almost jealous of it, he stroked Jim's length, teasing it mercilessly, knowing every hot spot by now, and then left Jim nothing but air to fuck.

Time to make Jim scream.

He didn't -- not quite -- but the sounds ripped out of Jim's throat when his climax hit him were just as good. He'd never heard Jim sound that abandoned, that desperate to come. By the end, Blair was holding still as Jim slammed back on the unforgiving spike of silicone, taking what he needed with a fierce, angry determination.

Blair let Jim finish, his hand cupping the jerk and spit of Jim's erection loosely, sharing the moment with him as much as he could, and then, when Jim moaned in what sounded like discomfort, eased out of him, giving Jim's hole an anxious look. Red, sore, but no more than that.

He worked the harness off and pushed it to the side, hearing it fall with a distant thump. Jim crawled into his arms and he held him, rocking him, and felt the slowing heartbeat against his chest as Jim calmed down.

"Thanks," Jim said after a while, his voice tense enough to let Blair know that they'd entered the awkward phase when, lust appeased, sanity -- and embarrassment -- seeped in.

No fucking way was he letting Jim retreat after this.

"Other way 'round, Jim. Thank you for one hell of a night." He brushed his mouth across Jim's temple. "You wore me out, you know that? First time ever."

He felt the tension in Jim's body recede a little. "Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah." Blair didn't push it. Flattery worked, especially when it was sincere, but Jim wasn't stupid and he'd spot what Blair was doing. "So I'm guessing that means I lie here and recover while you cook supper."

This time it was his ass that got slapped -- and, man, did Jim's hand leave a burn. Nice. "Think again, Romeo. I'm wasted; you cook."

"How about we both share the shower while we wait for the pizza you're going to order to arrive?"

Arguing over toppings took them out of awkward and back to normal before they'd made it downstairs.

They'd had a lot of practice at that transition.



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