Obedience Nine
Author: timrod
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mmmmike
Disclaimer: I don't own Green Day. Dammit. Think of the fun if I did.
Part Nine of fuck knows. Think of this as a late birthday treat
Goes hand in handcuffs with
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I figured this first toy was going to be a little on the intense side, but I was confident that my man could take whatever it threw at him. Nevertheless, I didn’t want him to go into this cold, so to speak, so I warmed him up in the best of all ways. I put everything we’d need - massager, lube and a new pack of Kleenex - within easy reach, then leaned in to start work on getting him really relaxed and ready for the test ahead of him.
We’re both huge fans of foreplay, and when we get time like this, with no kids or other commitments, we can really indulge in enjoying one another, with a fuckton of physical contact of all kinds. After all these years, the first touch is still electric, so I was prepared for his whole-body spasm when I started to massage his chest, light pressure from only my fingertips, guided by the channels formed between his ribs. Immediately, his nipples stiffened, dark and crinkled islands on his pale skin. His pecs have been supremely sensitive since the babies, and if you knew him as intimately as I do, you would see that they are a little more defined than before - not old man moobs, but softly swollen mounds on his otherwise boyish body. I cupped my hands around them and kissed each of them in turn, as he ran his fingers through my hair.
“Oh, fuck, Mike ….” His voice tailed off into a breathy sigh as I dragged my tongue over my inked name.
“You like that, huh?”
“Love it. More.”
I gave him more, and he gave back, his eyes super-bright, a slight sheen of sweat developing on his face. Every so often, I would lick and suck my way up to his mouth for a kiss, maybe allowing myself a small chew on the bite on his neck as a reward before I moved back down to his torso. He was covered in goosebumps by now, his every muscle soft and un-tensed, apart from his cock, which was like mine, as solid as steel. He seemed to have forgotten all but a handful of words, and at one point, I thought he was going to come, even before the toy was in him, he tugged on my hair so hard. He must have had the same thought, because he murmured my name, twice, and I knew that meant he was as ready as he would ever be.
The massager was tiny, no thicker than a Sharpie at its widest, and so we by-passed most of the prep stage, apart from Billie giving himself a wipe-over with the almond oil that I squeezed onto his fingertips. I managed to get my shakes more or less under control, twisted the base to set the thing buzzing, and slid it in half way in one smooth motion, with him watching us in the mirror above. That was enough to start him twitching, and I could imagine why. It pulsed to an uneven rhythm, its motor strong enough for me to feel the vibration when I rested my hand on his belly. Knowing precisely the layout of his insides, I pulled it out little way, so that the hooked tip was resting against his prostate, and waited for him to catch his breath enough to answer.
“On target, yeah?”
“Yeah. Fucking bullseye. Jesus!”
I checked the label to see if had any more tricks up its sleeve while he got used to having what sounded like a hive of angry bees inside his ass. It did have just the one setting, but the small print was interesting, to say the least. I decided not to share my discovery with Billie, figuring it would be so much more fun for him to find some of it out for himself. I adjusted the depth of penetration a little, because all indications were that it was working a bit too well, and settled down to enjoy the show.
I’ve rarely seen him so animated. Five minutes in, and he was already almost climbing the walls, his fingers sometimes spread flat on the cotton under him, at other times balled into a tight fist around a handful of towelling. Each time his fingers uncurled, he gave me a running commentary on the toy’s performance, and on his progress. It seemed to operate in cycles, building in plenty of time between all-out assaults on his sweet spot, allowing him to prepare himself for the next onslaught. I was reminded of his breathing exercises when he was pregnant, the ones that were designed to calm him and get him through the pain, and I found myself lapsing back into helpless expectant father mode, whispering encouragement to him when he seemed to be losing control over his body, with the toy doing its best to break him.
“That’s it. You’re doing real well, Baby.”
“You can tell, huh?” He got caught up in another series of stronger vibrations, but when they abated, the pretend-snark in his voice was gone. “Shit, Mikey. This is fucking incredible.”
Remembering what I had read, I kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Billie.”
“It does more? Fuck, I’m gonna die!”
“Wait and see. You look like you’re just about there.” Truly, I have never seen so much pre-come on his belly before. The small amount of hair below his navel was soaked to a dark brown from its usual gingery-blond. He nodded, because the toy stole his words from him again, bar the one long, low utterance of my name. I slipped it out that vital half inch, gliding easily on a slick of oil and that was all it took to finish him off. He jerked violently, his muscles hardening, his limbs ramrod-straight, and his cock almost vertical as his seed was liberated from his body in as many as a dozen rhythmic waves. He looked startled, open-mouthed and utterly beautiful, and I could not resist a gentle squeeze of his balls. Panting like the dogs after a run on the beach, he slowly started to relax, but the toy did not let up, and this time, when he used my name, there was a pleading note to it. I kissed him again, and reached between his thighs, not to take the instrument of torture out of his ass, but to make sure it stayed exactly where it was.
“Mike, fuck, Mike, I ….”
“Shh, Baby. Go with it.”
He whimpered, and took a very deep breath, silently begging for mercy, but he nodded, making a super-human effort to cope with this extreme level of stimulation. His erection showed no sign of dwindling, despite that pretty impressive climax. He’s stayed hard after an orgasm before, and with such a full-on bombardment of his prostate, I wasn’t surprised that this hard-on survived to fight another day. His trust in me is absolute - he knew that I would not hurt him, or do anything to jeopardise the rest of our night of love.
The fourth breath did the trick - he was back to the point where he could bear the intensity of the thrumming motor, and I stroked his hair from his face, because he was scrunching up the towel again. He gave me the most gorgeous smile, flashing emerald fire at me, and “I love you” was brimming on his lips when the massager went into overdrive once more.
We are NEVER going to use this toy when the kids are about, or in a hotel, maybe not even on the noisy diesel touring buses we use, because he sounded like the train that had nearly caused him to choke in the car. The design was perfect - small to concentrate the vibration where it was needed, but shaped in such a way that it wasn’t forever slipping out of him. He was in shock, his eyes almost popping out of his head, watching a second, smaller load ooze from his slit, but with the same amount of power propelling some of it as far as his nipples. I was torn in two, craving pressing my lips to his, but also wanting to watch the end of the massager dance in sync with the pulses of his cock. The top end won the battle, (the camera was aimed right between his legs, remember? I wasn’t going to miss out completely), and for the second time in five minutes, I coaxed and kissed him through an orgasm, carefully readying him for what I had planned.
“That’s it, breathe. Beautiful.”
“M-mmmikey …. please.”
“One more, Billie. I want one more from you.”
“Fuck, I can’t ..”
“Yes, you can. For me.”
He sank back into the mattress, beaten into submission by a battery operated device and his ultimate desire to please me. He barely had the chance to blink his assent before the motor started humming louder.
If he seemed breathless before, this climax almost suffocated him. I found myself doing that delivery room panting again, trying to stop him from hyper-ventilating, but, fuck, he looked lovely. Rivulets formed at the edges of the opalescent lake on his skin, trickling down both of his sides, to soak the towel underneath him. As the lake spread, the streams ran thicker and faster, although a fair amount remained to decorate his belly and ribs. One stubborn strand seemed reluctant to leave his body completely, forming a creamy rope bridge between his cock and his stomach, which stretched, finally breaking when his erection slowly ebbed away. His chest still heaving, he rediscovered his voice.
“Jesusfuckingchristalfuckingmighty!” I twisted the toy out of his spasming ass, and he almost looked like he was going to come again. Perhaps I should have turned it off first. “You could have warned me, you fucker.”
“If you bothered to put your glasses on, you could have read the label.” Yeah, I tease him about having to wear reading glasses. God help me when I need them.
“What, ‘Danger - keep out of reach of fucking sadistic bassists?’” One kiss and his anger disintegrated, just like the Kleenex that was not man-sized enough for this particular clean up. “That was pretty fucking epic, but I’m done for the night.”
“No way. We got five more toys to play with yet.”
“Jesus. I am gonna die.”
“Nah. You’ll survive. Congratulations on your first multiple orgasm, by the way.” This time he instigated the kiss, which was broken by a yawn. “Thanks. We got some Berocca or something? I gotta stay awake to torture you.” I found what he wanted in the nightstand, and after he had downed twice the recommended dose, dissolved in a bottle of water which he drained in one go, he picked up the toy’s wrapper and pretended he could read it. He squinted for a bit, then handed it to me, finishing off the clean up by screwing the towel into a soggy ball and dropping it to the floor.
“It says ‘Super-O Intimate Male Massager …’.”
“Yeah, I got that bit, smartass.”
“I’ll ask Julie to use large print on all her packaging, shall I?” Look, he’s older than me. Only eleven weeks, granted, but if i give up teasing him about his cock size, I gotta have something I can needle him with, right? Luckily, he was still in recovery from his Super-O ordeal, and hadn’t got the energy or long enough arms to slap me. He made do with sticking out his tongue, which was a very attractive shade of luminous orange. “ It’s got a product description, explains the multiple orgasm thing, says what battery it takes what materials it’s made of,warns about using it whilst operating machinery …” I sniggered, and Billie guessed what was going through my filthy little mind, because it was going through his, too.
“You could use it in the fucking car, Mikey. I can see the cop’s face when you get pulled over! ‘ But officer, it’s hands free ….’ ”
“Never gonna happen.”
“Never say never, Mike. Carry on.”
I glared at him, and hoped to hell he’d forget saying that by the morning. “The second label is from product testers - remember she asks us to write comments on the stuff she loans us? It says …” I cleared my throat, and put on a very stupid voice. “ ‘Fucking efffective. Used it solo, came five times, four hands free. Threw out my boyfriend the next day.’. Next one - ‘Best auto-erotic experience of my life.’ and last, ‘Genius. Scored six, I will never have to abuse drum-sticks again and risk splinters.’ ”
“Fuck, you don’t think ….?”
“..that Frankie was here first?”
Billie snorted. As attractive as the fake-tan tongue, I know, but, god, I love it when he does that. “This town’s full of drummers, Mikey, but yeah, that’s our Tré, for sure. Anything else I should have known before ?”
“Yeah, there’s more. ‘Made in the USA. © Adam’s Adult Accessories ® Suoer-O …’”
I managed to get almost to the end of the legal stuff before he hit me with a pillow, which inevitably turned into the second tickle-fight of the day, and then into the longest kiss in our entire relationship.
Fuck, I love him.