Just One Look [bday ficlet for elyndys]
(Not-so) surprise birthday ficlet for elyndys! It's a day early, I know, but I just couldn't keep this gem to myself.
You should be pleased I thought of the perfect gift for you: hot, sweet sexagenarian love. :D
Title: Just One Look
Pairing: Ryuuzaki x Tezuka ♥
Rating: NC-17
Warning: I think the pairing and the rating are a warning in themselves.
Summary: Ever wonder what goes on after practice lets out?
Expert hands, experienced in the sensual arts of both massage and lovemaking, smoothed along the contours of his abdominal muscles. Fingers, rough with age, pressed skillfully into the flesh below his navel, working lower and lower, finding and igniting a plentitude of pressure points, each sending a small rush of endorphin, testosterone, or whatever other pleasure-inducing hormones he possessed, through his body.
Two index fingers pressed knowingly against the top bridge of his pubic bone, and Tezuka groaned as the pressure made his cock grow physically harder within a split second, visibly rising against the white, generic briefs - the only article left of his modesty.
"S-se-sssensei . . ." he gasped out, trying to lift his head up from the stiff pillow that smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol. School was long over, practice had been let out, and Tezuka, like the good little boy he was, had stayed after hours for some "extra credit." Tezuka thought it was a stroke of genius, really, how the school came equipped with, of all things, a bed. Although not the most comfortable bed in the world, the infirmary’s twin-size, steel-framed cot was enough to meet his - and sensei’s - needs.
"Yes, Tezuka?"
Tezuka could only groan again at the suggestiveness in sensei’s tone. How was it that that voice - deep, raspy, almost-manly - could effect him so? Really, Tezuka had always considered himself the very personification of willpower and self-control; yet why, oh why was he always so helpless under this touch, and that voice, and that look. That look she would shoot at him during practice, that would momentarily make his knees tremble and his groin stir with hot, sharp sensation, before he’d have to take a deep breath and get his nerves back under control. Yet, even after he had stopped his knees from shaking, an image would suddenly pierce his mind: a memory, maybe from the day before, maybe from months ago, of two naked bodies - one lithe, pale, young, and male, the other full, bronzed, seasoned, and very, very female - pressed together in mutual ecstasy, and Tezuka couldn’t force down the pleasured yell trying to escape from deep inside his belly, and so he’d bark out an order or a complaint to cover himself instead. The team might’ve thought he was sadistic, giving them so many laps to run; they couldn’t possibly know that the yells were a disguise for the sexual music forcefully ripping itself from his throat, not unlike a mating call of a fierce, wild animal.
"My, my, Tezuka," Ryuuzaki-sensei’s intonation, like the sound of a voice box being scraped raw with rough sandpaper, sent delicious tingles of arousal into Tezuka’s bloodstream, flowing under his skin like the sweetest harmony. "You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you? Would you look at that hard-on?" Ryuuzaki-sensei’s hand grabbed his erection through the fabric of his briefs, and Tezuka choked loudly in pleasure. "So hard," she leaned down and began teasing his earlobe with her hot tongue, "and I haven’t even touched you. You must be so horny for me."
"Nnnggh," Tezuka was beginning to lose the ability to form sentences, as sensei’s talented hand slid under the leg band of his briefs and began kneading his balls. "I . . . y-yesss . . . sensei, please," he begged out of instinct, not even quite sure what he was begging for, just wanting it more and faster and now.
"Hmm?" Ryuuzaki-sensei sounded amused as she moved her head down and took one of Tezuka’s tiny nipples between her teeth, biting gently before releasing. "I’m guessing you’re not going to last very long today, Tezuka-kun . . . such a naughty boy." Her tongue lapped at his chest, except it wasn’t wet, but dry and rough - Tezuka knew that one of sensei’s arthritis medications gave her dry mouth. Somehow, it turned him on even more this way. "How would you like it today, Tezuka?"
Tezuka swallowed as sensei’s hand grasped tightly around his swollen cock, while not enough to hurt, enough to warn him that it could. This question was always a double-edged sword, Tezuka knew; depending on his answer, it was either fuck or be fucked, and he couldn’t flat-out request one or the other. It was a game of words.
"I want it quick and hard," he whispered, hoping it was a good answer. Getting fucked with the strap-on was never quick, as it required preparation, and it usually wasn’t very hard, considering sensei’s aging body generally wasn’t up for such excessive exertion. So this way, Tezuka reasoned, he’d get to be on top, and he’d get to plunge himself into that hot, wet heat. Right?
"Oh?" Just that one syllable, and Tezuka knew that Ryuuzaki-sensei had immediately seen through his request. He held his breath, awaiting sensei’s decision.
"You don’t want to be prepared first, then? Why, Tezuka, I didn’t know you were a masochist. You really are a naughty boy."
Tezuka dared to open his eyes, immediately regretting it as the thick, platinum gold dildo in Ryuuzaki-sensei’s hand glinted at him in the fading sunlight.
Well, he thought resignedly, at least it’ll be quick.
~FIN~
____________________________
♥
You should be pleased I thought of the perfect gift for you: hot, sweet sexagenarian love. :D
Title: Just One Look
Pairing: Ryuuzaki x Tezuka ♥
Rating: NC-17
Warning: I think the pairing and the rating are a warning in themselves.
Summary: Ever wonder what goes on after practice lets out?
Expert hands, experienced in the sensual arts of both massage and lovemaking, smoothed along the contours of his abdominal muscles. Fingers, rough with age, pressed skillfully into the flesh below his navel, working lower and lower, finding and igniting a plentitude of pressure points, each sending a small rush of endorphin, testosterone, or whatever other pleasure-inducing hormones he possessed, through his body.
Two index fingers pressed knowingly against the top bridge of his pubic bone, and Tezuka groaned as the pressure made his cock grow physically harder within a split second, visibly rising against the white, generic briefs - the only article left of his modesty.
"S-se-sssensei . . ." he gasped out, trying to lift his head up from the stiff pillow that smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol. School was long over, practice had been let out, and Tezuka, like the good little boy he was, had stayed after hours for some "extra credit." Tezuka thought it was a stroke of genius, really, how the school came equipped with, of all things, a bed. Although not the most comfortable bed in the world, the infirmary’s twin-size, steel-framed cot was enough to meet his - and sensei’s - needs.
"Yes, Tezuka?"
Tezuka could only groan again at the suggestiveness in sensei’s tone. How was it that that voice - deep, raspy, almost-manly - could effect him so? Really, Tezuka had always considered himself the very personification of willpower and self-control; yet why, oh why was he always so helpless under this touch, and that voice, and that look. That look she would shoot at him during practice, that would momentarily make his knees tremble and his groin stir with hot, sharp sensation, before he’d have to take a deep breath and get his nerves back under control. Yet, even after he had stopped his knees from shaking, an image would suddenly pierce his mind: a memory, maybe from the day before, maybe from months ago, of two naked bodies - one lithe, pale, young, and male, the other full, bronzed, seasoned, and very, very female - pressed together in mutual ecstasy, and Tezuka couldn’t force down the pleasured yell trying to escape from deep inside his belly, and so he’d bark out an order or a complaint to cover himself instead. The team might’ve thought he was sadistic, giving them so many laps to run; they couldn’t possibly know that the yells were a disguise for the sexual music forcefully ripping itself from his throat, not unlike a mating call of a fierce, wild animal.
"My, my, Tezuka," Ryuuzaki-sensei’s intonation, like the sound of a voice box being scraped raw with rough sandpaper, sent delicious tingles of arousal into Tezuka’s bloodstream, flowing under his skin like the sweetest harmony. "You’re a naughty boy, aren’t you? Would you look at that hard-on?" Ryuuzaki-sensei’s hand grabbed his erection through the fabric of his briefs, and Tezuka choked loudly in pleasure. "So hard," she leaned down and began teasing his earlobe with her hot tongue, "and I haven’t even touched you. You must be so horny for me."
"Nnnggh," Tezuka was beginning to lose the ability to form sentences, as sensei’s talented hand slid under the leg band of his briefs and began kneading his balls. "I . . . y-yesss . . . sensei, please," he begged out of instinct, not even quite sure what he was begging for, just wanting it more and faster and now.
"Hmm?" Ryuuzaki-sensei sounded amused as she moved her head down and took one of Tezuka’s tiny nipples between her teeth, biting gently before releasing. "I’m guessing you’re not going to last very long today, Tezuka-kun . . . such a naughty boy." Her tongue lapped at his chest, except it wasn’t wet, but dry and rough - Tezuka knew that one of sensei’s arthritis medications gave her dry mouth. Somehow, it turned him on even more this way. "How would you like it today, Tezuka?"
Tezuka swallowed as sensei’s hand grasped tightly around his swollen cock, while not enough to hurt, enough to warn him that it could. This question was always a double-edged sword, Tezuka knew; depending on his answer, it was either fuck or be fucked, and he couldn’t flat-out request one or the other. It was a game of words.
"I want it quick and hard," he whispered, hoping it was a good answer. Getting fucked with the strap-on was never quick, as it required preparation, and it usually wasn’t very hard, considering sensei’s aging body generally wasn’t up for such excessive exertion. So this way, Tezuka reasoned, he’d get to be on top, and he’d get to plunge himself into that hot, wet heat. Right?
"Oh?" Just that one syllable, and Tezuka knew that Ryuuzaki-sensei had immediately seen through his request. He held his breath, awaiting sensei’s decision.
"You don’t want to be prepared first, then? Why, Tezuka, I didn’t know you were a masochist. You really are a naughty boy."
Tezuka dared to open his eyes, immediately regretting it as the thick, platinum gold dildo in Ryuuzaki-sensei’s hand glinted at him in the fading sunlight.
Well, he thought resignedly, at least it’ll be quick.
~FIN~
____________________________
♥