Obedience 23
Author: timrod
Rating: NC17 overall
Pairing: Billie Joe/Mmmmike
Disclaimer: I don't own Green Day, but I do have access to a secure dungeon
Part twenty-three of fuck knows. Want to go on tour with these guys?
Goes hand in handcuffs with
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I woke first, like I do most days, taking a few seconds to orientate myself, as I seemed to have fallen asleep diagonally across the bed with my head where my feet should have been. Billie, in contrast to my stretched-out position, was curled up impossibly tight in one corner, nothing visible but a few tufts of pale hair, which I could just see over the mound of his ass. How we ended up like this, I had no clue for the moment. Billie had most of the covers, and I suspected that the main reason for me waking so early was that I was half-frozen - we were both naked, which sort of gave me a clue about why we’d ended up sleeping in such an odd position. I wriggled up to the pillow, and tugged until at least some of the comforter covered me, lying butt-to-butt against his warmth.
It was still pretty dark, but the time of year and the early hour explained that. I could just reach the blind, and peeping outside, the day looked yellow-grey, the sky threatening more snow, and for a moment, I longed for California, until I remembered that the best thing about home was just a few yards away - our double source of mobile sunshine. We had a show that night, and there would be a short soundcheck, but apart from that, we were planning to fill the day with catching up on lost cuddles. In the meantime, I decided to get in some hugging practice with the man sharing my bed, twisting carefully so as not to create too much of a draught, and give my front a chance to share some of his heat.
I gotta confess some parts of me were pretty cold. He flinched twice, once when my arm snaked around his waist, and again when I rubbed a foot across his calf, but he sighed as my growing cock found its natural resting place along his crack. It took him a while to wake fully, but it’s such a beautiful process - grunts, yawns, and a series of very slow blinks, and a huge, toothy smile over his shoulder, after which he snuggled back down, as if he was ready to fall asleep again. He wedged his fingers between mine, and spoke his first word of the day. Well, kind of.
“Mmmmmfffllllff.”
“Hey. Morning.”
“You have fucking cold feet.” He snuffled against my enfolding arm, and I heard him lick his lips. “But you smell amazing. Like last night.”
Ah, last night ….. it started coming back to me. We’d got into bed at a reasonable time, and had a long and stimulating conversation about the pros and cons of him wearing a cock cage during a show, before we realised that every toy and all of the lube we had brought with us was still sitting in the trunk of the car on the opposite side of the parking lot. We were too cold and too naked to even dream about making that little trip, and we were certainly not going down the let’s-experiment-with-other-bathroom-products route again, leaving us with only one real option to quench our sexual thirsts. After a day of running around after the children, our natural man-smell had broken through, and Billie apparently couldn’t get enough of it. Lucky me. By the time he’d finally left me alone, it was pretty late and I hadn’t even got the energy to crawl up the bed. With that delicious memory now lodged in my head, I let our joined hands slip down his body, over the fading, neat scars that run low across his belly, until we were underneath his own partial erection.
“Sometimes, I kinda miss you being pregnant.”
“Yeah, me too. I loved the swollen ankles, the backache …”
“Not that, Fucktard. I mean stuff like feeling the babies move. That was kinda cool.”
He landed a light kiss on my arm and snuggled back into me, now fiddling with the wedding band on my finger. “Yeah, I loved it when you sang to them, told them stories of what it was like in the outside world. That was fucking cute.”
“My middle name is cute.”
“Your middle name is horndog. Jesus, we talked about this last night - about you not coming near me without lube.”
“Ha! You said coming …”
“You are the biggest child in this family, I swear, and if you want help getting rid of that, you’re gonna have to think outside the box, Mikey.”
“So basically, like last night - 69?”
His lip-smacking got louder, and he squirmed out of my arms until it was him the wrong way up on the bed, staring at my cock as if he had never seen it before. “Uh-huh. My favourite number.”
“Mine, too.”
Honestly, I had every intention of blowing him in return, but for the first few moments, I just had to watch him working on me, my tunnel-vision view framed by his spread legs. He kissed my slit, leaving me with a long swipe of his tongue to remember him by in the few seconds before he took me all the way in. He sighed and hummed, bathing my groin in warm air and soft vibrations at the same time, his tongue now pressed flat against the underside, his head angled so that my tip brushed against the roof of his mouth. I struggled to keep still, not wanting to choke him, my voice sounding weak and hoarse as I kissed his thighs, pale in comparison with the dark sac hanging between them.
“Fuck So good. Love you.” He hummed louder, and, trying hard not to tickle, he cupped one hand around my balls and tugged gently. I got the hint. His balls hung directly in front of my face, but when I prised his butt apart, and aimed higher than he expected, he shuddered and moaned so fucking loud. Encouraged, I gave his hole a little more attention.
I didn’t even mind that he stopped sucking me. I had woken his need for something he hadn’t had in over a day, and he became incredibly vocal, dropping to rest his head on my thigh, for now just giving my cock the occasional kiss, in between blasting it with hot, panting breaths. I steadied him with my hands spread on the peachy perfection of his ass, concentrating every atom of my being on simply making him feel good, dragging and dipping my tongue over and into his hole. It wasn’t just good for him. I loved it, too, his reactions making me want to fuck him into the middle of next week, more so because I knew how much of a challenge it would be for both of us. He sounded desperate - more than desperate - and I whispered my instructions, rasping and urgent, and, because he is Billie, he understood. We could do this.
“Billie … Baby….. do you want me?”
“Fuck, yeah … yeah, but ….”
“It’ll be fine. Suck me. Make me wet.”
With another hot little noise that symbolised the evaporation of his resistance, he obeyed. This time, his lips were not so tight around me, and while he covered me with saliva, I licked and slicked his entrance until I was confident that I could get inside it without causing any damage.
We didn’t need to let each other know when the time was right, either. After a lifetime of licking, he was so relaxed, I felt that the lack of lube was not going to be too much of a problem, although this is not something we’d done that often. The room echoed with a soft liquid sound as he pulled off me, and, moving quickly before the air dried our skin, Billie rose and straddled my hips. From then on, his movements were far more controlled, as he dropped slowly to guide my erection into his body, millimetres at a time, until I was completely inside him and all of his weight was on me. He sighed, deep and long and flashed me a knowing smile.
“Jesus, you feel huge.”
I giggled, then apologised for the extra pressure that put on his sensitive insides. Without sounding big-headed (ha!), I had more of a case of morning national park than simply morning wood. “Too much? D’ya need ….?” I prayed to the god of fuck that he’d give the right answer. I really didn’t want to quit now - he felt simply awesome.
“’S’okay. Be gentle with me and I’ll be fine. I want this.”
“Me too. Take your time. Don’t spoil it.”
He bit his lip and nodded, closing his eyes as his ass got used to what must have been a pretty intense stretch. Communication was limited to soft grunts and more of those sighs, until he finally lowered his gaze to lock with mine and muttered, “I’m good.”
I reached for the light above the headboard, apologising instantly as Billie yelped, but he calmed quickly, and flashed me a brief smile of reassurance.
“Better?”
“Better. Jesus, Mike, there’s so fucking much of you! How’s it for you?”
“Tight. Hot. Good. Do you want ….?” I stroked up his length with my knuckles and he arched away from me in a fleeting ecstasy, which terminated in another one of those squeals of part-pain.
“Shit! Yeah, please, you’re gonna have to.”
I wrapped my fingers around his cock, holding close to his body, allowing me to take the longest strokes possible, slow and deliberate, making sure his balls rolled against my belly every time. He rewarded me by clenching his internal muscles, intensifying the squeeze for me, and the contact with the most sensitive parts of his own body at the same time. I let him know how much I appreciated his efforts in a series of noises that would not have sounded out of place in a zoo, his response simply to lift his chin from his chest and give me another one of his soul-stirring smiles.
It was a struggle, but I left all the work to him, not daring to let my primal urges overrun me, relying on Billie to take what steps he needed to minimise discomfort and maximise pleasure. His control was absolute. I’m sure in his position, I would not have been able to keep so calm, but kneeling across me, his hands resting lightly on his thighs and his eyes either locked with mine or transfixed by me working on his erection, he gave me the bizarre impression that he was meditating, preparing himself for some momentous event. And I had no doubt that it would be momentous. Little or no lubrication meant that every twitch, whichever of us it came from, had an incredible, amplified effect on the other one. For sure, the relentless clenching around my shaft was doing a great job of propelling me towards my own orgasm, as regular as if he was counting Frankie and me into a chorus after he’d improvised something on stage. That, and his now constant eye-fuck stare made me want to tip him on to his knees and go for broke, but that would have to wait for later, when we’d retrieved the holdall from the car - and allowed the lube time to get back to something approaching room temperature.
For now, this subtle, understated lovemaking was all we had, but it was far from inadequate. Sounds stupid, but even after our decades of extreme intimacy, I felt closer to him than I have ever done before, the need for restraint making me hyper-aware of his needs, and him of mine. To an onlooker, it may have looked passionless, but this fuck was proving to be one of the most intense experiences of my life, and despite it not being particularly energetic, sweat blossomed over our bodies from the effort we were putting into controlling ourselves, and by the bus’s heating which had finally started to warm the space.
My fingers, too, glinted in the early morning light, sparkling droplets of pre-come bursting over them. If at first Billie had been almost motionless, relying on the subtlest movement to provide the stimulation that he needed, before long, his quiet, intermittent moans became louder, closer-spaced as he started to get restless. I could feel him trembling, and he began wriggling as much as he dared, gyrating his hips in small circles, his breath snatched and rasping when he croaked my name. That one syllable told me everything I needed to know. I let go his cock for a second, licking away a wet stain, then repositioned my grip for the final approach to his orgasm.
In the end, I beat him to it. He was holding his breath, watching for the trickle of clear fluid to be replaced by a fountain of cloudy, when my climax took us both by surprise. I couldn’t deny myself a moment longer, the lack of vigour more than made up for by the tight practice spasms massaging my cock as effectively as my fingers on Billie’s. We gasped together as I lost it, big time. I flooded his body with my heat, but he held himself in check for a few agonisingly ecstatic seconds, then fell forward and silently invited me to fuck him to completion before my erection collapsed. He came with one massive jolt, like a man struck by lightning, a hundred little quivering after-shocks and a throaty cry that must have been heard all around the parking compound.
We were one hot mess. Warm liquid oozed from around my shrinking cock to puddle on my thighs, my fingers were wetter than ever, and Billie’s sweat was mingling with mine as we lay, belly to belly, tasting each other’s breath in something very much like, but not exactly a kiss. I fucking hurt, my chest was still heaving, and, worst of all, something was tickling my side, until I couldn’t ignore the itch any longer. An escaping stream of Billie’s seed was trickling towards the sheet, and I stopped it in its tracks, tasting it briefly before offering the rest to my body-shocked and pretty much exhausted lover.
I thought we’d already shared the most intimate, erotic moment of our day, but watching him enjoying his own flavour set my draining cock twitching. Maybe it was that, or maybe the noise I made that inspired my delicious, depraved man to reach behind him and repeat the scene, this time with the product of my balls. He watched with the devil in his eyes as my tongue swirled around his fingers, chased by his, until they were dry, but still distinctly sticky. He licked his lips to remove every last trace of me, then clamped his mouth to mine for a long and lazy kiss that made me fall in love with him all over again.
“We’re going to hell.”
“Fine by me. As long as it’s both of us.”
“It will be. Feels early.”
“It is. Kids are probably up, though.”
“Maybe. Can’t hear them.”
“Hope they didn’t hear us, either. Fuck, you were noisy.”
He giggled, but there was no sign of his usual blush when we talk about sex and the babies in the same sentence. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that his face was still flushed from the effort he’d put into making no effort. “You were fucking awesome. I thought the cold was supposed to make your cock shrink.”
It was my turn to chuckle as I tried to move my right hand, still trapped in the sweaty sandwich of bodies. I was rather proud of what I’d achieved this morning. “We should have taken a photo. One for the record books.” We sniggered together, ending with him attacking the hickey on my neck with enough force to draw blood, pretty effectively putting me in a far more serious frame of mind. “Fuck! Billie ….. Darling ….” He shuddered from top to toe. I know how much he loves me calling him that. “Billie, turn around.” He made a little questioning sound, his brain still fuck-fuzzy. “Turn around. Wanna see you.”
He kissed me again, quick and sweet, and did as I asked, presenting me with a view of his ass that blocked just about everything else from my sight. I spread his butt cheeks, and rubbed around his hole, back to its pre-fuck tightness, but glistening with a mix of sweat and semen. I kissed it lightly a couple of times before selecting my spot - right in the centre of his butt cheek - and bit.
He lurched forward, yelping in surprise, but almost immediately settled back against my mouth, moaning into my crotch as I raised a bruise twice the size of the matching ones on our necks. Dark purple flecks spattered with tiny pinpricks of red spread raggedly over his pale skin, and when I was happy with the damage I’d done, I kissed and licked the flesh to cool it.
“Okay?”
“Fuck, yeah. Yeah. Feels great.” My belly was blasted with his hot breath as he laughed. “Can’t drop my fucking pants tonight, for sure.”
“Yeah, you can. I want people to see it.”
“Fuck …. Mike …….” I could feel his cock twitching against my chest, so I guessed - correctly - that he’d silently agreed.
“It’s gonna feel good when I fuck you after the show, too.” To illustrate my point, I jabbed my thumb into the middle of the mark, holding him steady when he half-sat, muttering a stream of obscenities, his ass losing some of its roundness as he clenched against the pain.
Jesus, I wanted him. Yes, we’d fucked less than fifteen minutes earlier, but seeing him like this made me ache for more of him. This close, all I could smell was sex, strong and musky, and before he could settle back onto his perch on my chest, I wriggled down the bed and hooked his semi-soft cock into my mouth. My lips tightened, and almost instantly I could feel the throb as his body reacted to this renewed stimulation, flesh swelling against my tongue. His head thunked onto my hip, tantalisingly close to my own reviving erection, calling me every loving name in his vocabulary before he could no longer resist taking me into his own mouth to complete my arousal.
Our next moments were almost silent. Uttering nothing more than quiet hums and whimpers, we immersed ourselves in each other’s pleasure, and if the bus was rocking, it was because of the wind outside. Our little bedroom felt cosy, not too hot, but comfortable, and we were so quiet that I could hear leaves - even the snowflakes - hitting glass and metal as the early winter descended on the city. I remembered the nights we’d stayed at Frankie’s father’s cabin in the mountains as teenagers, trying to hide our three-way relationship from him, and inspired by thoughts of the bachelor party of the century, I began to suck harder. Billie reacted with extra effort on his own part, his head now doing basketball bounces against my groin, keeping up the pace until we gave in to our lust and tumbled headlong into our second climaxes of the day.
Still panting and running his tongue over his teeth, Billie squirmed back into my arms, retrieving the comforter from under us to cover our sweat-dewed skin. We kissed, and giggled and compared notes, concluding that hot chocolate has a far better aftertaste than an excess of coffee, until we noticed the sounds of the world outside our temporary four walls coming to life. I struggled reluctantly to the floor, and, deciding that I didn’t need my usual pre-breakfast work-out this morning, I went to shower first, before the limited supply of hot water ran out.
When I returned, clean, slightly damp and more than ready for food and the children, Billie was as I had first seen him at daybreak - curled up in one corner of the bed, all but the top of his head covered. Beside him was a scatter of pens and his folder of lyrics, the open notebook on the top of the heap scrawled with words which fitted perfectly with the bass line I had played for him a few days earlier.