Not A Fairy Tale Part 5/16
Title: Not A Fairy Tale Part 5
Author: TalliW
Pairings: Lester/Cutter!clone
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: Primeval is the property of Impossible Pictures. I write just for fun.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to Fredbassett for beta-reading. I couldn't have done it without you.
Lester had been shocked when Becker had stood in front of his door to give him a tape containing some unfriendly words about the Prime Minister. Christine hadn't bothered to hold back in her tirade, being sure of the soldier's loyalty, bought with a carrot and a stick.
And Becker had been loyal - to Sir James.
Nick had stayed in his room the whole time Becker had been in the flat and only came out to pull James into a passionate kiss after the captain had gone.
"They nearly died yesterday because the safe house I send them was a death trap with terror birds from an Anomaly. I nearly killed my team and they applauded me," Lester ranted. "Can you imagine that? They're glad I'm back after I almost killed them."
"James, calm down. You weren't aware of the Anomaly. They all know you only tried to protect them."
The clone took Lester by the arm, determinedly, and led him into the master bedroom.
"Lie down on your belly. I will take care of you." he ordered and Lester obeyed.
James Lester had learnt a long time ago that sex was the best way to get rid of the tension and his violent fits of temper.
He knew it was only a matter of time that Nick would leave him. He had put a lot of effort into preparing him to stand on his own feet one day.
But until then, Lester would enjoy their moments together. Nick always managed to calm him down quickly. And James Lester could walk to work the next day every inch the calm, self-controlled man his employers expected.
Lester spread out on the large bed and waited, relaxed, for Nick to start.
His shoulder had been taken care of by the medic at the ARC and he considered pulling down the gauze to make it easier for the clone. He sighed as his cheeks were parted, and closed his eyes.
Suddenly, a wet tongue licked over his hole and Lester opened his eyes in shock. The tongue repeated its movement, teasing his puckered hole and it felt fucking hot.
Lester cursed when the clone circled around his anus and he spread his legs wider, whilst pushing his arse up. Bloody hell, now the tip of the tongue was sliding inside him. He groaned and sought friction on the bed, rubbing desperately with his cock over the smooth surface of the silk sheet to get relief from the heat boiling up in his loins.
The tongue was removed abruptly and cold air brushed against his arse. James whimpered in need and suddenly something hard pressed between his cheeks, insistent to get inside.
That couldn't be. Oh God, that was fucking unbelievable. The clone was fucking him with a gun, his own Walter PPK which he kept hidden in his desk draw.
Sir James couldn't get his head around it as the cold steel of the gun barrel pushed inside him. He was being fucked with his own gun, in his own bedroom in his flat, by Cutter's duplicate.
Lester's legs thrashed around as the clone fucked him steadily with the weapon and he moaned when the barrel was occasionally twisted against his prostate.
Then the gun was replaced by a thick cock, sliding inside him in one single stroke and shoving him forwards onto the bed. Lester panted into his pillow, his hands clawing for something to hold onto as the hard pole drove mercilessly in his body.
The cold metal was almost refreshing against his burning hole until it sought entrance into a passage which was already full.
He couldn't hear the gasping of the other man over the roaring of the blood in his ears as the gun barrel slowly forced its way into his arse.
The pain was exquisite as the pleasure. James Lester had been with several woman and men before;, sometimes he had topped and sometimes he had been taken, but he hadn't ever been so turned on in his life as he was right now.
The thick cock and the gun stretched him to the limit and he felt so full he doubted he could take it any longer. But the man on top of him didn't stop. He rammed restlessly into Lester's hole while the gun jabbed against his prostate.
The moment the gun was removed, Lester was flooded with hot come, soothing the sore membrane of his intestinal walls as he lay wailing on the bed, humping frantically against the mattress, cursing and begging for release.
James Lester was rolled onto his back by strong hands, and cried out as his cock were was engulfed by a hot, wet mouth, bobbing up and down on him ferociously.
The scraping of the soft palate against his cock-head was enough to push him over the brink. His finger nails sunk into the linen as he screamed at the height of pleasure while he was shooting his semen into the clone's throat.
The clone moved up and wriggled his sweat-drenched body against Lester's chest.
His lips tasted of sperm and James opened his mouth wide to savour more of the flavour. The semen the clone had preserved ran onto Lester's tongue and his cock switched with renewed interest.
As his own come streamed down his throat, James clutched the clone tightly in his arms, relishing in the feeling of the heavy body covering him completely as the anger and turmoil left him.
The sun was streaming down on the bed, and Lester stretched his arching body in satisfaction.
"How, for heaven's sake, did you come up with the idea of double-penetrating with a gun?" he asked the smiling man next to him.
"I've realised my education is lacking in some areas. But that's what the internet is for, after all, isn't it? Now I've filled some gaps." The clone smirked, pleased, and drew Lester close for a gentle kiss.
"I've learnt enough to last a lifetime," he whispered against Lester's lips and started to fondle his cock.
A moment later, the room was filled with groans, and screams of pleasure, again.
Sir James hurried into the Home Office nine minutes too late for today's meeting. The Home Secretary looked displeased when he sat down with a short excuse about heavy traffic.
As the boring conference started, James Lester just hoped it wouldn't take too long to sort out the new appropriation of funds. His arse was already starting to twinge and reminded him of the rough handling he had enjoyed as much.
Insted of hearing about budget cutbacks, he would certainly prefer to rush home to see what else Nick had up his sleeve.