Suite 7 - In the Kitchen?
Suite 7: In the Kitchen?
Eli/Jordan, NC-17, 1660 words.
They needed more peanut butter. The knife scraped the plastic sides as Jordan coaxed the last bit out of the jar and onto the piece of bread. It would have to do. He licked his thumb, at the bit of peanut butter smeared on the skin, and then licked the knife as well. No sense letting anything go to waste. Especially not peanut butter.
The new jar of strawberry jam gave a soft pop as he twisted off its top and he smiled. London always bought the good stuff, he thought, and dipped his finger in, bringing it back to his mouth to taste. He moaned softly-so fucking good.
Dipping the knife into the jam, smirking that Shay wasn’t around to scream at him for “double-dipping,” Jordan held the jar sideways, dumping a few globs onto another piece of bread. No, Shay was safely out of the house and away from all the stuff he shouldn’t be touching…
Jordan frowned. Speaking of the equipment…Jin’s computer probably needed to be updated again. And Jin certainly wasn’t going to do it himself. Jordan sighed. Once again, he was going to have to brave the dragon’s den, wasn’t he? And possibly get fucked six ways to Saturday on the desk again, just like last time. And DAMN it, that thought shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. Jordan growled to himself, willing his half-hard erection to disappear. Maybe he’d just see if London would go with him upstairs.
…On second thought. Jordan shuddered as his imagination took that idea and ran with it. Yeah, London would help him out alright-straight onto London’s own cock. Especially if Jin wanted to watch. Fucking pervs.
Jordan threw the used knife into the sink and slapped the two pieces of bread together. He’d have to come up with a plan, then. He stared at the cupboards and bit into the sandwich, his tongue savoring the sweet jam and creamy peanut butter. Maybe he could-
A solid pressure from behind slammed him against the counter. Jordan braced himself with both hands, his sandwich falling to the countertop, and pushed back. “What the Hell?” He hissed when he felt the hard lump grinding into his ass. HUGE hard lump. FUCKING ELI! Jordan lashed back with his left hand. “BASTARD!” he snarled.
Eli smirked as he caught Jordan’s arm and twisted it behind his back. “Now, Jordie, why would you want to HIT me? Don’t be such a little bitch.” Eli rolled his hips, rubbing himself against Jordan’s jeans.
Jordan growled. Fucking tight jeans. And what was worse-his fucking body was starting to betray him. AGAIN. “I’ll fucking KILL you!” He dropped his left shoulder and rolled into a turn but Eli caught his other arm and joined it with his left, pinning both against Jordan’s back.
Eli’s chuckle was positively evil as he bent Jordan over the countertop. “That’s going to be hard with your hands behind your back.” Jordan closed his eyes and grimaced. He didn’t even need his eyes to see Eli’s smirk-it was already burned into his head. “And you don’t want to kill me,” Eli purred, thrusting. Jordan grunted each time Eli drove him into the lower cabinets. “I’m going to make you feel gooood.”
At the threat, Jordan’s dick launched all out mutiny and threw its vote in with Eli. Jordan snapped his eyes open and bit back the whimper. He was NOT giving in to this. “Eli, NO.” No meant no meant FUCKING NO.
“No?” Eli asked. “What is this ‘no” you speak of?” Eli switched up his grip to pin both Jordan’s arms with only one hand-big fucking hands better used for-NOT going there, Jordan thought, halting himself.
Jordan tossed his head back, whipping his hair out of his face. “Damn it! You know what NO means!”
“Sure, it means that you’re going to try to hit me, but we’ve already taken care of that, right?” Eli’s free hand popped the button of Jordan’s jeans, pushed down the zipper, and shoved the pants down to Jordan’s knees. Jordan squeaked and jumped, hitting his head against the counter and unfortunately lifting his ass higher into the air. Eli smacked it approvingly “There we go…” and Jordan growled.
“I HATE you!” he screamed and closed his eyes, biting his lip. Why hadn’t he worn his belt today? Eli’s hand snaked around and tugged at Jordan’s cock. Jordan’s head rolled but he bit back the moan, gnawing on his lower lip. His teeth hit one of the snakebites and he flinched. Fuck. His next moan was loud and clear. Why did the fucker have to be so good at this? “You fucking SLUT!”
Eli hummed against Jordan’s neck, his tongue licking the pulse point. “I’m pretty good at handling a cock, aren’t I?”
“That’s not something to be proud of, you manwhore!” He thrashed in Eli’s grip but only found himself wedged more firmly on the counter.
“It’s not?” Eli stroked another moan out of Jordan and Jordan's breath roughened into harsh pants. “Such names, Jordie. You’re the one wearing the tight, painted-on jeans. How are I’m supposed to resist that? Especially when you’re moaning and licking those soft, pretty lips looking like a virgin girl getting her mind blown?”
Jordan froze. “WHAT?”
“You were just BEGGING to be done, Jordie,” Eli said and, with one well-placed boot, shoved Jordan’s jeans the rest of the way to the floor. “Walking around in these ‘rape me’ jeans…”
“Rape? What the hell happened to ‘fuck’?”
“Well if you insist!”
"NO!" Jordan slammed his body to the side, twisting out of Eli's grasp and swung his arm back at Eli's head. Eli ducked and Jordan's uncountered momentum flipped him onto his back. Jordan's eyes widened at Eli's grin as the conman grabbed Jordan's legs and dumped him onto the counter. Jordan's head rebounded off an upper cabinet door and he dropped his hands to the countertop for support. Grease squished up between the fingers of his left hand and he grimaced, glaring downward. Just who the fuck hadn't put the butter away? They were going to be so fucking DEAD.
Pushing his advantage like always, Eli lunged forward, pining Jordan for good. He lifted Jordan's buttered hand, "Hey, that's convenient," and pulled off a glob of the slick fat, coating his own fingers.
"NOOO!" Eli plunged two fingers into Jordan, twisting them upwards. "You goddamned BASTARD!"
"Not my fault you were distracted, Jordie." Eli pushed in a third finger.
"Get your fingers--" Too late as Eli, old whore that he was, found that magical spot. He pressed more firmly, massaging it and stars exploded in Jordan's vision. His head hit the cabinet again. "Oh fucking Jesus, God, motherfuck--!"
"Jordie, you know what happens if I just shove it in. You need a little prep work to handle me."
Eli and his fucking ego. And every damn word was true. Jordan gripped Eli's white sleeveless T with his ungreased right hand, his eyes closed and his teeth bared. "Hate you so fucking much," he ground out. Damn it, he was NOT clinging!
"Mmm hmm," Eli said, pulling his fingers out and shoving his much larger dick in. Jordan screamed--pride be DAMNED--and banged his head against the cupboard door. Eli leaned against him, stomach to stomach, trapping Jordan's dick. "Sooo fucking tight, baby..."
Jordan gasped, his hips jerking by themselves, pushing against Eli's length. "Oh God, oh God, oh GOD..." Why did the bastard have to feel so good? "You're such a fucking slut!"
"Me?" Eli gasped as Jordan impaled himself farther and squeezed. He countered with a thrust and to Jordan's disgust, their moans were harmonizing. "You're the one with your legs spread!"
Jordan clawed at Eli's shoulder, his thighs tightening around Eli's moving hips. "Because you're--oh, FUCK--forcing me!"
"Whatever gets you through the day, honey-bunches." Eli's next thrust forced Jordan backwards and Eli grabbed Jordan's legs, pulling him back. Jordan groaned as Eli sunk in deeper and Eli plunged in again--hard and fast like always.
"Ngh! Ah! Fuck!" Jordan's back arched, getting a better angle--God damn it but he couldn't help himself. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Eli shoved up Jordan's T-shirt, his large hands skimming over Jordan's torso and bit at Jordan's neck. "Bastard, don't--" Eli grabbed Jordan's dick, jerking it in rhythm. "FFFUCK!" Jordan screamed, his back arching one last time as his orgasm shrieked through his nerves.
Boneless and panting, Jordan slumped onto the counter, leaning against the cabinets, feeling Eli slam into him again and again.
"Baby, feel so good," Eli moaned. "So good..." With a grunt, Eli thrust hard, pushing Jordan up against the cabinet again and Jordan felt the familiar warm flood as Eli's cock pulsed inside of him. "Oh yeahhhh..."
Jordan swallowed, trying to control his panting, feeling Eli's breath against his neck, matching the frantic pace. Eli's dick was softening, slipping out. Jordan shoved at him, trying to get the dead weight off. "Get off me."
Eli purred and wrapped his arms around Jordan's torso, clinging. "Was it so bad, baby? You came, didn't you?"
That bad? Jordan leveled a look at Eli who flinched, expecting a hit, but held his ground. Jordan slapped his still butter-greased left hand against Eli's cheek, pressing every bit of his palm and slide it downwards over Eli's jaw. Eli's eyebrows twitched. "Little. Bitch." Jordan bared his teeth and shoved the older man off of him.
He slid off the counter and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving a sulking Eli, his half-eaten sandwich and the crushed stick of butter. Fuck this shit. His ass was sore in more ways than one, his thighs probably had indents from the edge of the counter and his head hurt from all the times he slammed it against the cabinet door. And Eli's come was leaking down his inner thighs.
So needed a fucking shower.
Eli/Jordan, NC-17, 1660 words.
They needed more peanut butter. The knife scraped the plastic sides as Jordan coaxed the last bit out of the jar and onto the piece of bread. It would have to do. He licked his thumb, at the bit of peanut butter smeared on the skin, and then licked the knife as well. No sense letting anything go to waste. Especially not peanut butter.
The new jar of strawberry jam gave a soft pop as he twisted off its top and he smiled. London always bought the good stuff, he thought, and dipped his finger in, bringing it back to his mouth to taste. He moaned softly-so fucking good.
Dipping the knife into the jam, smirking that Shay wasn’t around to scream at him for “double-dipping,” Jordan held the jar sideways, dumping a few globs onto another piece of bread. No, Shay was safely out of the house and away from all the stuff he shouldn’t be touching…
Jordan frowned. Speaking of the equipment…Jin’s computer probably needed to be updated again. And Jin certainly wasn’t going to do it himself. Jordan sighed. Once again, he was going to have to brave the dragon’s den, wasn’t he? And possibly get fucked six ways to Saturday on the desk again, just like last time. And DAMN it, that thought shouldn’t excite him as much as it did. Jordan growled to himself, willing his half-hard erection to disappear. Maybe he’d just see if London would go with him upstairs.
…On second thought. Jordan shuddered as his imagination took that idea and ran with it. Yeah, London would help him out alright-straight onto London’s own cock. Especially if Jin wanted to watch. Fucking pervs.
Jordan threw the used knife into the sink and slapped the two pieces of bread together. He’d have to come up with a plan, then. He stared at the cupboards and bit into the sandwich, his tongue savoring the sweet jam and creamy peanut butter. Maybe he could-
A solid pressure from behind slammed him against the counter. Jordan braced himself with both hands, his sandwich falling to the countertop, and pushed back. “What the Hell?” He hissed when he felt the hard lump grinding into his ass. HUGE hard lump. FUCKING ELI! Jordan lashed back with his left hand. “BASTARD!” he snarled.
Eli smirked as he caught Jordan’s arm and twisted it behind his back. “Now, Jordie, why would you want to HIT me? Don’t be such a little bitch.” Eli rolled his hips, rubbing himself against Jordan’s jeans.
Jordan growled. Fucking tight jeans. And what was worse-his fucking body was starting to betray him. AGAIN. “I’ll fucking KILL you!” He dropped his left shoulder and rolled into a turn but Eli caught his other arm and joined it with his left, pinning both against Jordan’s back.
Eli’s chuckle was positively evil as he bent Jordan over the countertop. “That’s going to be hard with your hands behind your back.” Jordan closed his eyes and grimaced. He didn’t even need his eyes to see Eli’s smirk-it was already burned into his head. “And you don’t want to kill me,” Eli purred, thrusting. Jordan grunted each time Eli drove him into the lower cabinets. “I’m going to make you feel gooood.”
At the threat, Jordan’s dick launched all out mutiny and threw its vote in with Eli. Jordan snapped his eyes open and bit back the whimper. He was NOT giving in to this. “Eli, NO.” No meant no meant FUCKING NO.
“No?” Eli asked. “What is this ‘no” you speak of?” Eli switched up his grip to pin both Jordan’s arms with only one hand-big fucking hands better used for-NOT going there, Jordan thought, halting himself.
Jordan tossed his head back, whipping his hair out of his face. “Damn it! You know what NO means!”
“Sure, it means that you’re going to try to hit me, but we’ve already taken care of that, right?” Eli’s free hand popped the button of Jordan’s jeans, pushed down the zipper, and shoved the pants down to Jordan’s knees. Jordan squeaked and jumped, hitting his head against the counter and unfortunately lifting his ass higher into the air. Eli smacked it approvingly “There we go…” and Jordan growled.
“I HATE you!” he screamed and closed his eyes, biting his lip. Why hadn’t he worn his belt today? Eli’s hand snaked around and tugged at Jordan’s cock. Jordan’s head rolled but he bit back the moan, gnawing on his lower lip. His teeth hit one of the snakebites and he flinched. Fuck. His next moan was loud and clear. Why did the fucker have to be so good at this? “You fucking SLUT!”
Eli hummed against Jordan’s neck, his tongue licking the pulse point. “I’m pretty good at handling a cock, aren’t I?”
“That’s not something to be proud of, you manwhore!” He thrashed in Eli’s grip but only found himself wedged more firmly on the counter.
“It’s not?” Eli stroked another moan out of Jordan and Jordan's breath roughened into harsh pants. “Such names, Jordie. You’re the one wearing the tight, painted-on jeans. How are I’m supposed to resist that? Especially when you’re moaning and licking those soft, pretty lips looking like a virgin girl getting her mind blown?”
Jordan froze. “WHAT?”
“You were just BEGGING to be done, Jordie,” Eli said and, with one well-placed boot, shoved Jordan’s jeans the rest of the way to the floor. “Walking around in these ‘rape me’ jeans…”
“Rape? What the hell happened to ‘fuck’?”
“Well if you insist!”
"NO!" Jordan slammed his body to the side, twisting out of Eli's grasp and swung his arm back at Eli's head. Eli ducked and Jordan's uncountered momentum flipped him onto his back. Jordan's eyes widened at Eli's grin as the conman grabbed Jordan's legs and dumped him onto the counter. Jordan's head rebounded off an upper cabinet door and he dropped his hands to the countertop for support. Grease squished up between the fingers of his left hand and he grimaced, glaring downward. Just who the fuck hadn't put the butter away? They were going to be so fucking DEAD.
Pushing his advantage like always, Eli lunged forward, pining Jordan for good. He lifted Jordan's buttered hand, "Hey, that's convenient," and pulled off a glob of the slick fat, coating his own fingers.
"NOOO!" Eli plunged two fingers into Jordan, twisting them upwards. "You goddamned BASTARD!"
"Not my fault you were distracted, Jordie." Eli pushed in a third finger.
"Get your fingers--" Too late as Eli, old whore that he was, found that magical spot. He pressed more firmly, massaging it and stars exploded in Jordan's vision. His head hit the cabinet again. "Oh fucking Jesus, God, motherfuck--!"
"Jordie, you know what happens if I just shove it in. You need a little prep work to handle me."
Eli and his fucking ego. And every damn word was true. Jordan gripped Eli's white sleeveless T with his ungreased right hand, his eyes closed and his teeth bared. "Hate you so fucking much," he ground out. Damn it, he was NOT clinging!
"Mmm hmm," Eli said, pulling his fingers out and shoving his much larger dick in. Jordan screamed--pride be DAMNED--and banged his head against the cupboard door. Eli leaned against him, stomach to stomach, trapping Jordan's dick. "Sooo fucking tight, baby..."
Jordan gasped, his hips jerking by themselves, pushing against Eli's length. "Oh God, oh God, oh GOD..." Why did the bastard have to feel so good? "You're such a fucking slut!"
"Me?" Eli gasped as Jordan impaled himself farther and squeezed. He countered with a thrust and to Jordan's disgust, their moans were harmonizing. "You're the one with your legs spread!"
Jordan clawed at Eli's shoulder, his thighs tightening around Eli's moving hips. "Because you're--oh, FUCK--forcing me!"
"Whatever gets you through the day, honey-bunches." Eli's next thrust forced Jordan backwards and Eli grabbed Jordan's legs, pulling him back. Jordan groaned as Eli sunk in deeper and Eli plunged in again--hard and fast like always.
"Ngh! Ah! Fuck!" Jordan's back arched, getting a better angle--God damn it but he couldn't help himself. "Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" Eli shoved up Jordan's T-shirt, his large hands skimming over Jordan's torso and bit at Jordan's neck. "Bastard, don't--" Eli grabbed Jordan's dick, jerking it in rhythm. "FFFUCK!" Jordan screamed, his back arching one last time as his orgasm shrieked through his nerves.
Boneless and panting, Jordan slumped onto the counter, leaning against the cabinets, feeling Eli slam into him again and again.
"Baby, feel so good," Eli moaned. "So good..." With a grunt, Eli thrust hard, pushing Jordan up against the cabinet again and Jordan felt the familiar warm flood as Eli's cock pulsed inside of him. "Oh yeahhhh..."
Jordan swallowed, trying to control his panting, feeling Eli's breath against his neck, matching the frantic pace. Eli's dick was softening, slipping out. Jordan shoved at him, trying to get the dead weight off. "Get off me."
Eli purred and wrapped his arms around Jordan's torso, clinging. "Was it so bad, baby? You came, didn't you?"
That bad? Jordan leveled a look at Eli who flinched, expecting a hit, but held his ground. Jordan slapped his still butter-greased left hand against Eli's cheek, pressing every bit of his palm and slide it downwards over Eli's jaw. Eli's eyebrows twitched. "Little. Bitch." Jordan bared his teeth and shoved the older man off of him.
He slid off the counter and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving a sulking Eli, his half-eaten sandwich and the crushed stick of butter. Fuck this shit. His ass was sore in more ways than one, his thighs probably had indents from the edge of the counter and his head hurt from all the times he slammed it against the cabinet door. And Eli's come was leaking down his inner thighs.
So needed a fucking shower.