(no subject)
(posted on my personal journal last week)
Billy/Dom
NC-17
"Want it, want it, fucking need it," Billy hisses.
Billy begging is a rare thing, and Dom's been at the game long enough to know that he should take advantage of it when he can - so he does, pushing Billy against the wall and grinding him. He licks Billy's neck and reaches around, slides a hand into the back of Billy's denims to feel his ass. No pants - that earns Billy another little kitten lick, right on the collar bone, just as Dom's finger slides between the damp cheeks and presses into Billy's hole.
Billy jerks like he's been electrocuted, and his face squinches up, bright and red. "Dom, Dom," He chokes out. His grasp on Dom's arm is claw-like, and his entire body is straining - first forward, trying to gain friction from Dom's hip, and then back, as if he can somehow force Dom's wicked fingers inside of him. Neither happens, of course - they're in the loo (where Billy'd dragged Dom) and a wall away from all of their friends and co-workers. They're not going to shag - not yet, not here. That would be too easy. Billy would be disappointed in him, if he didn't draw it out a little more.
Yeah, Billy's taught him all the rules, and it's a credit to that when Dom peels himself away from Billy, despite how hot it is to have Billy the one doing the pleading for once. This is Billy handing it all over, letting Dom see everything. "I'll fuck you when we get home," Dom says, his lips wet and his breath hot against Billy's ear. "I'll let you undress me with your teeth and suck me, and then I'll let you get yourself ready for me. I'll watch you fuck yourself with your fingers, get all hot and wet for me, stretch yourself out until you're ready."
"Ready now," Billy insists. It's only Dom's immediate grasp on his wrists that keeps Billy from undoing his jeans. "Dom."
"No." Dom takes a neat step back. He's trembling all over but he tries to hide it, checking the mirrors - he pats down his hair, yanks up his trousers, straightens his shirt - and when he turns back around, Billy's starting to catch his breath. "Go get our jackets. Ten minutes of goodbyes, and we'll go home."
Billy practically bolts out of the door.
Billy/Dom
NC-17
"Want it, want it, fucking need it," Billy hisses.
Billy begging is a rare thing, and Dom's been at the game long enough to know that he should take advantage of it when he can - so he does, pushing Billy against the wall and grinding him. He licks Billy's neck and reaches around, slides a hand into the back of Billy's denims to feel his ass. No pants - that earns Billy another little kitten lick, right on the collar bone, just as Dom's finger slides between the damp cheeks and presses into Billy's hole.
Billy jerks like he's been electrocuted, and his face squinches up, bright and red. "Dom, Dom," He chokes out. His grasp on Dom's arm is claw-like, and his entire body is straining - first forward, trying to gain friction from Dom's hip, and then back, as if he can somehow force Dom's wicked fingers inside of him. Neither happens, of course - they're in the loo (where Billy'd dragged Dom) and a wall away from all of their friends and co-workers. They're not going to shag - not yet, not here. That would be too easy. Billy would be disappointed in him, if he didn't draw it out a little more.
Yeah, Billy's taught him all the rules, and it's a credit to that when Dom peels himself away from Billy, despite how hot it is to have Billy the one doing the pleading for once. This is Billy handing it all over, letting Dom see everything. "I'll fuck you when we get home," Dom says, his lips wet and his breath hot against Billy's ear. "I'll let you undress me with your teeth and suck me, and then I'll let you get yourself ready for me. I'll watch you fuck yourself with your fingers, get all hot and wet for me, stretch yourself out until you're ready."
"Ready now," Billy insists. It's only Dom's immediate grasp on his wrists that keeps Billy from undoing his jeans. "Dom."
"No." Dom takes a neat step back. He's trembling all over but he tries to hide it, checking the mirrors - he pats down his hair, yanks up his trousers, straightens his shirt - and when he turns back around, Billy's starting to catch his breath. "Go get our jackets. Ten minutes of goodbyes, and we'll go home."
Billy practically bolts out of the door.