Water Chapter 1 Fic-Tease
Just to whet your appitites for Sunday.
NC-17 kids. Like I write anything else. ;-)
James awoke with a gasp--his hands clenched painfully around the chains that supported his cot-his head was tossed back--his feet planted on the matress with his knees spread wide-his back arched and his night shirt rubbed teasingly along the length of his hard cock. He rocked his head against the pillow, and with great effort yanked his hands from their hold and pressed them over his eyes. Then he tried to slow his rapid breathing, to calm himself down, but that only allowed the cries and moans from the Turners' cabin to make themselves known. One fist slammed down on the mattress in a vain attempt to leech the tension from his body. Didn't they know, he thought angrily. Didn't they realise that sound bloody well carries! He wanted to turn out of his bed, cross the great cabin and pound on the bulkhead, yell at them to stop, plead with them to stop.
But he could not bring himself to move.
Moments of his dream came back to him: Elizabeth with her head back, eyes squezzed shut, her golden hair spread and snarled across the sheets, mouth open as she moaned and urged Will on, and Will with the muscles of his back straining and sliding beneath his flesh, the spot where his shoulder met his neck exposed for James to suck and bite as worked in and out of the man's arse, as he forced the man to ride his wife towards her completion.
Oh God. He'd not had a dream like this in ages, not this vivid, not this intense, not this... He twisted the sheet in his hand. The cloth of his night shirt was plastered to his damp skin; it clung to his peaked nipples and chafed them with every slight movement. The cotton brushed along his cock beautifully, excrutiatingly. He lowered his hand from his forehead and snatched the hem up to rest across his stomach trying to ease the stimulation, but it didn't work. The open port-hole admitted a soft, swirling breeze that caressed his inner thigh and washed up over his cock like the breath of an unseen lover. He caught his groan in his throat. There would be enough talk about the Tuener's escapade tomarrow; he didn't need his name folded in with their's.
No matter how much the thought appealed to his base desires.
NC-17 kids. Like I write anything else. ;-)
James awoke with a gasp--his hands clenched painfully around the chains that supported his cot-his head was tossed back--his feet planted on the matress with his knees spread wide-his back arched and his night shirt rubbed teasingly along the length of his hard cock. He rocked his head against the pillow, and with great effort yanked his hands from their hold and pressed them over his eyes. Then he tried to slow his rapid breathing, to calm himself down, but that only allowed the cries and moans from the Turners' cabin to make themselves known. One fist slammed down on the mattress in a vain attempt to leech the tension from his body. Didn't they know, he thought angrily. Didn't they realise that sound bloody well carries! He wanted to turn out of his bed, cross the great cabin and pound on the bulkhead, yell at them to stop, plead with them to stop.
But he could not bring himself to move.
Moments of his dream came back to him: Elizabeth with her head back, eyes squezzed shut, her golden hair spread and snarled across the sheets, mouth open as she moaned and urged Will on, and Will with the muscles of his back straining and sliding beneath his flesh, the spot where his shoulder met his neck exposed for James to suck and bite as worked in and out of the man's arse, as he forced the man to ride his wife towards her completion.
Oh God. He'd not had a dream like this in ages, not this vivid, not this intense, not this... He twisted the sheet in his hand. The cloth of his night shirt was plastered to his damp skin; it clung to his peaked nipples and chafed them with every slight movement. The cotton brushed along his cock beautifully, excrutiatingly. He lowered his hand from his forehead and snatched the hem up to rest across his stomach trying to ease the stimulation, but it didn't work. The open port-hole admitted a soft, swirling breeze that caressed his inner thigh and washed up over his cock like the breath of an unseen lover. He caught his groan in his throat. There would be enough talk about the Tuener's escapade tomarrow; he didn't need his name folded in with their's.
No matter how much the thought appealed to his base desires.