Fic: Obsessions
Title: Obsessions
Author: Crystal
Rating: NC-17
Content: Angst, Masturbation, Blow job
Characters: Adam Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff
Notes: Tommy is a bit obsessed with Adam's hands.
Obsessions
It's growing rather unhealthy, this obsession of mine. I don't even remember how it started, but now I can't stop it. Those hands, his hands. He'd play with my hair, slid his finger along my chin, even a slap on the ass every now and then.
Then it got to me watching him during songs. How he'd slid them, where he's place them. Even the smallest things I'd find sexy. They way he'd push his hair out of his face. How he used his hands to express himself when he talked. Watching him drive was one of the worst. The way he'd wrap his fingers around the wheel, his hand on the gear shift. I don't know how many times I stopped myself from putting my hand over his, or sliding my fingers along his hand on the gear shift.
I knew it was getting really bad when one day I stumbled across a video on YouTube. There was a part in the interview where he was talking about his hands. I sat there enthralled like a fan boy as the camera focused on his hands. They looked so sexy and used. The rings making them pretty, the chipped and worn black polish adding a different element of sexy all together. I found myself re watching it again and again. I was pathetic really. He's like my best friend, why all the sudden am I turning into a blithering fan boy every time those hands are on me.
As if it were even possible, he has made it even worse. He got the idea in his head to come over during my introduction and start sliding his hand along my bass, like I do when I play. All I can do is stand there mesmerized as his hand wraps around the neck and starts sliding up and down. He changes it every time, and every time it gets more and more sexual. I seriously can't stop thinking about it after he does it. How he grips it, the pace of his movements. Fuck. Am I even talking about the bass anymore?
I have to say my birthday was the worst of all. Of course he said it was all for me, in that god forsaken tone he gets sometimes. Then he proceeds to sit on the stage and pretend to jack off with the fucking microphone. Once I got back to my room that night it was all I could think about. At first it was just the thought of him jacking off. Those hands slowly working himself to release. It was bad enough I thought of that. I never really thought of him that way. He's like my best friend, but my mind was set on him and those damned hands. Obviously I had no control of my thoughts, because the next thing I know I'm hard as a rock at the thought of him jacking me off. Those hands, those gloves. I still can't believe I got off to the thought of that. Although I thought afterward, that it would take care of my obsession. I was so wrong.
The next concert I was actually nervous. I really didn't know how I was going to react. I couldn't let on anything though. Well at least I tried, I swear when he put his finger under my chin for the Fever kiss I shivered. All I could do was hope he didn't notice. Sadly I think he did. Later during my introduction he was all on me. Threw his arm around me, sliding his hand along my chest I shuddered against him. Now I know he felt that, there was no way he could have missed it being that close to me. I just knew he was going to say something to me. As much as I love him, he can be such a bastard sometimes. All I could do was wait for the inevitable.
We have adjoining rooms like we always do. Which usually doesn't bother me, but I found myself for the first time locking the door between them earlier today. I think it was for my sanity. I'm far from worried about him. I can't trust myself, especially if he decides to be extra vocal when he's... No, no I'm not going to think about that. I refuse.
I need to distract myself. Maybe I'll mess around with my guitar, or listen to some music. Just as I slip my headphones on there's a knock at the adjoining door. Shit.
"Just a sec." I say taking my headphones off and getting up.
I walk over and open the door to see him standing there leaning against the frame on his side. His arms are crossed as he looks down at me.
"Why'd you lock the door?" His eyebrow arched as he spoke.
"Oh. I dunno." I blatantly lie. Maybe to keep me from rubbing myself against your damn hands.
He reached out and ruffled my hair. God damn it, I want to mutter.
"You're so silly Tommy Joe. Come on, let me in."
There was no way I can deny him, then he'd know for sure something was up. I back up, letting him in. He walks over to the bed and sits back against the pillows. I arch an eyebrow at him.
"Comfortable?"
"Yes, very." He grins in reply.
He brings his hands together, picking at the chipped polish. I can't keep my eyes off his fingers. He's staring so intently I know I won't get caught. Completely oblivious to my state, he strikes up a conversation.
"So what are you gonna do tonight?" he asks casually.
"I..." I tear my eyes away from his hands. "I hadn't really thought about it." I busy myself around the room. I put my headphones away, gather some clothes together. His presence is really unnerving.
"Oh." is his only reply. He sits there a minute then speaks again. "You want to go out or something? I really didn't have any plans either." He confesses.
As if I can't tell, he would already be dressed. He's sitting on my bed in a Queen t-shirt and some gray sweat pants. His hands drop into his lap as he waits for my reply. I can do nothing but stare when I turn to look at him. He's absently running his hand along his thigh, I hold my breath. I'm so lost right now, all I can do is hope I answered, hope he hasn't noticed my eyes boring a hole through his hand. Then comes his voice, a low tone that I can hear the smirk in.
"Want something Tommy?"
I bite my lip and drop my head, hoping my hair will cover the look in my eyes. How the fuck did he know? OK don't be stupid Tommy, he had to have felt the little things, seen the looks.
"Look at me kitty."
Did he really have to use that name right now? I reluctantly look up, becoming extremely shy around him. I'm never like that, well until recently.
"I know something is going on with you. I know it has something to do with me. I just can't put my finger on it."
I want more than a finger on it. The thought comes uninhibited, and I'm glad it wasn't out loud.
"Come here." He pats the bed beside him.
My mind says go, and for some ungodly reason, my body complies. I move over to the bed, slowly crawling onto it, kneeling beside him. Once again I can't look at him. Big mistake. He slides his hand under my chin and tilts my face up. I can't stop the small shiver at the touch.
"Tell me Tommy." His eyes are locked on mine, there is no way I can look away with his hand on my chin.
"I can't." I whisper it and his hand falls away, sliding along my chest.
God damn him. If he only knew what that was doing to me. His slight touch, albeit not sexual at all to him, is a jolt of sexual energy, scorching my skin though my t-shirt. His hand stops on my thigh and I whimper before I can censor it. He arches an eyebrow. I think it is slowly dawning on him. He slides his hand along my thigh. I know he is testing my reaction. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as his fingers graze my inner thigh. He moves his hand away and brings it up to my face. I'm free falling into the sweet sensation of his hands.
His hand slides against my cheek, and I am lost. My eyes slip closed and I lean into the touch, like a kitten looking for more. His finger moves over my lips and I resist the urge to snake my tongue out to taste his skin.
"Tell me Tommy... please." He whispers it this time, as his hand slides around to the back of my neck. His other hand is on me now, sliding along my arm.
I try to steel myself against the feel of his hands. The slight touch, the way he moves them. The hand on my neck moves up gently massaging along my hair line. I'm losing composure fast, sanity falling away.
"Adam." I nearly moan it. "It's...it's.." His hand on my arm slides down to my hand, his fingers sliding along my own. He laces them with mine, slowly tightening the grip. The rough skin, the smooth feel of the rings he's wearing, the force behind his grip.
"Fuck... your hands. Your fucking hands." I can't take it anymore, that forceful grip has thrown me over the cliff.
"My hands?" he inquires as they continue their deadly assault on my skin.
"Yes." I can't believe he has drug it out of me, even more so I can not believe I am confessing it all to him. "They are so fucking sexy. How they look, how they feel..." I pause leaning more into his touch. "How you use them on stage." I bite my lip and lower my voice, "How you use them off stage. How you could use them on..." Somehow I have enough sanity left to stop myself. God how I want to say on me. I hope he can't gleam that. Who am I kidding, he is not that dense.
He leans closer now, his lips at my ear, "On you."
I shudder, hard almost instantly at the mere thought. His hand releases mine, and achingly slow, moves down my chest, headed straight for the bulge in my pants. It slides over the bulge and my breath hitches.
"Mmm this what you want Tommy?" He moves his hand along the front of my pants again and I squirm under the touch.
I am fighting the urge to crawl into his lap and let his hands devour my body. He moves his hand up under my shirt, the skin to skin contact slowly becoming overwhelming. He brings his other hand down and rids me of my shirt. His hands move up my chest, the edges of the rings graze my nipples. I moan in response, finally getting the courage to look at him, another of my big mistakes tonight. There is amusement there, lined with lust. He has always wanted me and I'm now giving him a fucking engraved invitation to touch me. I can't help myself, I ache for his hands on me.
"You like that kitty? Hmm? You want more?"
"Yes." My reply breathless as I feel his hands slid down to the front of my pants. He unbuttons them just enough to slip his hand inside.
His fingers slowly snake around my cock and I swear I nearly coming at the slightest touch. He just holds it still and it feels so fucking good. I am so far gone, of their own volition my hands are making quick work to unbutton my pants the rest of the way. I desperately want to rid myself of the offensive material, so I push them down to my knees. His hand moves and I freeze, unable to do anything but let the sensation wash over me. Another stroke and my head falls back with a long, tortured moan.
"That's right." Adam lets out a low, dark, laugh. "You want to come don't you Tommy?"
"Uh huh." I whimper as my body arches into his touch.
His grip tightens then, the rings adding to the delicious friction. His hand slips up over the tip as he slicks his hand with the liquid leaking there. He slides it back down my cock, making me groan. He moves to his knees in front of me, his lips mere inches from mine as he speaks.
"Then do it kitty." His hand moves fast, his grip so tight. He's roughly jerking my cock. "Come all over my fucking hand."
I come totally unglued when his free hand slides into my hair roughly yanking my head to the side. A litany of curses spewing from my lips as my orgasm takes me over. I come so hard, spilling over his hand. I look down to see the come sliding down his hand. So sexy. He must have seen me watching as he pulls his hand away, bringing the come covered fingers to my lips. I eagerly lap at them, and it is his turn to moan. I open my eyes, to look into his as I lick the come from them. His other hand slides down to his pants. It's blatantly obvious how aroused he is, sweatpants leave nothing at all to the imagination. I pull away from his fingers, and let my eyes wander to the hand unabashedly stroking himself through the pants. My eyes move back up to his as I grow bold.
"Stroke it for me Adam. I want to see your hands on it."
Adam smirks pulling away, "I bet you do." he slides his pants off, and tosses his shirt aside.
He slides back against the headboard, and curls a finger at me. Smug fucking bastard, with that damn accursed finger. Why do I always respond so eagerly to that? Again my body betrays as I crawl up next to him.
"You got off thinking about it haven't you?"
I really don't want to answer that. It will just make him even more smug. I'm quickly distracted from the question as his fingertips slid along his cock. It twitches at the light touch as he wraps his fingers slowly around it. His rings shine in the light as his hand begins to slowly move.
"Mmm stroke it." The words slip out, free of conscience thought, my gaze permanently locked on that damn hand.
"Only if you answer my question..." His hand stills, forcing me to look up with pleading eyes. They beg him to continue while asking him not to make me answer. He reaches out and grabs my chin, "Tell me."
"Yes." I reply through gritted teeth.
"I know..." That god damn smirk moves across his face again. I hate him sometimes, I really do.
He releases my chin, his hand moving back to his cock. My eyes following that hand where ever it goes. He starts to stroke it again, a low groan slips from his lips. I moan in response, my eyes leaving his hand to look up at him. His eyes are slowly fluttering shut, his mouth open, a look of pure pleasure.
"Stroke it Adam, make it come." I lick my lips at the thought of his come sliding deliciously over his hand.
Fuck, I'm getting hard again, but how can I fucking not. Those hands stroking that cock. His hand is moving faster now. I can tell by his ragged breaths he's getting close. I can't help myself as my hand wanders down to my own cock, stroking it slowly.
"Come all over that hand for me Adam. You know that's what I want to see."
"Fuck." He moans as his grip tightens.
I tear my eyes away to look up at his face again. His stare is locked on me, and it makes me shudder. Within seconds, my name crosses his lips as he starts to come. My eyes dart back down to his hand on his cock, moaning as I watch the come slid down his fingers and over the rings there. My own grip tightens the moment my cock twitches in my hand. Before I can comprehend what's happening, he's on me. He slides down my body, his lips hovering just inches from my hard cock. There is nothing but pure hunger in his eyes as he tears my hand away, and drags his tongue along my cock.
"Shit."
I can't even think straight right now with him dragging his lips against me. He brings his hand up sliding a finger over the tip. The hand is replaced by his mouth, and my head falls back. God his mouth, so warm, wet. His slick finger teases my hole and I tense. His other hand comes up and slides along my thigh, a reassuring touch. It's not enough for me. He deep throats my cock and all tension is gone. No one has done that to me before, and it's fucking incredible. Before I know it, he's slips that damn finger in my ass. My mind triggers my mouth to protest, but before I can, he hits a spot. Holy fucking shit. I can't even think. He sucks harder, pressing against it again and again. I'm a quivering mess on the brink of a huge orgasm, I can sense it. He takes all of me again, and stabs it hard one final time and I am shooting deep down his throat, a scream tore from my lips.
He pulls off me with another god damn smirk as he wipes his lips. I'm a panting mess, barely able to register anything anymore. I force myself to sit up and look at him. My eyes dart to his lips and his tongue darts out, sliding across the pouted bottom lip. Fucking great, now I'm gonna be obsessed with his lips. I hate you Adam Lambert, I really fucking do.
Author: Crystal
Rating: NC-17
Content: Angst, Masturbation, Blow job
Characters: Adam Lambert/Tommy Joe Ratliff
Notes: Tommy is a bit obsessed with Adam's hands.
Obsessions
It's growing rather unhealthy, this obsession of mine. I don't even remember how it started, but now I can't stop it. Those hands, his hands. He'd play with my hair, slid his finger along my chin, even a slap on the ass every now and then.
Then it got to me watching him during songs. How he'd slid them, where he's place them. Even the smallest things I'd find sexy. They way he'd push his hair out of his face. How he used his hands to express himself when he talked. Watching him drive was one of the worst. The way he'd wrap his fingers around the wheel, his hand on the gear shift. I don't know how many times I stopped myself from putting my hand over his, or sliding my fingers along his hand on the gear shift.
I knew it was getting really bad when one day I stumbled across a video on YouTube. There was a part in the interview where he was talking about his hands. I sat there enthralled like a fan boy as the camera focused on his hands. They looked so sexy and used. The rings making them pretty, the chipped and worn black polish adding a different element of sexy all together. I found myself re watching it again and again. I was pathetic really. He's like my best friend, why all the sudden am I turning into a blithering fan boy every time those hands are on me.
As if it were even possible, he has made it even worse. He got the idea in his head to come over during my introduction and start sliding his hand along my bass, like I do when I play. All I can do is stand there mesmerized as his hand wraps around the neck and starts sliding up and down. He changes it every time, and every time it gets more and more sexual. I seriously can't stop thinking about it after he does it. How he grips it, the pace of his movements. Fuck. Am I even talking about the bass anymore?
I have to say my birthday was the worst of all. Of course he said it was all for me, in that god forsaken tone he gets sometimes. Then he proceeds to sit on the stage and pretend to jack off with the fucking microphone. Once I got back to my room that night it was all I could think about. At first it was just the thought of him jacking off. Those hands slowly working himself to release. It was bad enough I thought of that. I never really thought of him that way. He's like my best friend, but my mind was set on him and those damned hands. Obviously I had no control of my thoughts, because the next thing I know I'm hard as a rock at the thought of him jacking me off. Those hands, those gloves. I still can't believe I got off to the thought of that. Although I thought afterward, that it would take care of my obsession. I was so wrong.
The next concert I was actually nervous. I really didn't know how I was going to react. I couldn't let on anything though. Well at least I tried, I swear when he put his finger under my chin for the Fever kiss I shivered. All I could do was hope he didn't notice. Sadly I think he did. Later during my introduction he was all on me. Threw his arm around me, sliding his hand along my chest I shuddered against him. Now I know he felt that, there was no way he could have missed it being that close to me. I just knew he was going to say something to me. As much as I love him, he can be such a bastard sometimes. All I could do was wait for the inevitable.
We have adjoining rooms like we always do. Which usually doesn't bother me, but I found myself for the first time locking the door between them earlier today. I think it was for my sanity. I'm far from worried about him. I can't trust myself, especially if he decides to be extra vocal when he's... No, no I'm not going to think about that. I refuse.
I need to distract myself. Maybe I'll mess around with my guitar, or listen to some music. Just as I slip my headphones on there's a knock at the adjoining door. Shit.
"Just a sec." I say taking my headphones off and getting up.
I walk over and open the door to see him standing there leaning against the frame on his side. His arms are crossed as he looks down at me.
"Why'd you lock the door?" His eyebrow arched as he spoke.
"Oh. I dunno." I blatantly lie. Maybe to keep me from rubbing myself against your damn hands.
He reached out and ruffled my hair. God damn it, I want to mutter.
"You're so silly Tommy Joe. Come on, let me in."
There was no way I can deny him, then he'd know for sure something was up. I back up, letting him in. He walks over to the bed and sits back against the pillows. I arch an eyebrow at him.
"Comfortable?"
"Yes, very." He grins in reply.
He brings his hands together, picking at the chipped polish. I can't keep my eyes off his fingers. He's staring so intently I know I won't get caught. Completely oblivious to my state, he strikes up a conversation.
"So what are you gonna do tonight?" he asks casually.
"I..." I tear my eyes away from his hands. "I hadn't really thought about it." I busy myself around the room. I put my headphones away, gather some clothes together. His presence is really unnerving.
"Oh." is his only reply. He sits there a minute then speaks again. "You want to go out or something? I really didn't have any plans either." He confesses.
As if I can't tell, he would already be dressed. He's sitting on my bed in a Queen t-shirt and some gray sweat pants. His hands drop into his lap as he waits for my reply. I can do nothing but stare when I turn to look at him. He's absently running his hand along his thigh, I hold my breath. I'm so lost right now, all I can do is hope I answered, hope he hasn't noticed my eyes boring a hole through his hand. Then comes his voice, a low tone that I can hear the smirk in.
"Want something Tommy?"
I bite my lip and drop my head, hoping my hair will cover the look in my eyes. How the fuck did he know? OK don't be stupid Tommy, he had to have felt the little things, seen the looks.
"Look at me kitty."
Did he really have to use that name right now? I reluctantly look up, becoming extremely shy around him. I'm never like that, well until recently.
"I know something is going on with you. I know it has something to do with me. I just can't put my finger on it."
I want more than a finger on it. The thought comes uninhibited, and I'm glad it wasn't out loud.
"Come here." He pats the bed beside him.
My mind says go, and for some ungodly reason, my body complies. I move over to the bed, slowly crawling onto it, kneeling beside him. Once again I can't look at him. Big mistake. He slides his hand under my chin and tilts my face up. I can't stop the small shiver at the touch.
"Tell me Tommy." His eyes are locked on mine, there is no way I can look away with his hand on my chin.
"I can't." I whisper it and his hand falls away, sliding along my chest.
God damn him. If he only knew what that was doing to me. His slight touch, albeit not sexual at all to him, is a jolt of sexual energy, scorching my skin though my t-shirt. His hand stops on my thigh and I whimper before I can censor it. He arches an eyebrow. I think it is slowly dawning on him. He slides his hand along my thigh. I know he is testing my reaction. I bite my lip to keep from moaning as his fingers graze my inner thigh. He moves his hand away and brings it up to my face. I'm free falling into the sweet sensation of his hands.
His hand slides against my cheek, and I am lost. My eyes slip closed and I lean into the touch, like a kitten looking for more. His finger moves over my lips and I resist the urge to snake my tongue out to taste his skin.
"Tell me Tommy... please." He whispers it this time, as his hand slides around to the back of my neck. His other hand is on me now, sliding along my arm.
I try to steel myself against the feel of his hands. The slight touch, the way he moves them. The hand on my neck moves up gently massaging along my hair line. I'm losing composure fast, sanity falling away.
"Adam." I nearly moan it. "It's...it's.." His hand on my arm slides down to my hand, his fingers sliding along my own. He laces them with mine, slowly tightening the grip. The rough skin, the smooth feel of the rings he's wearing, the force behind his grip.
"Fuck... your hands. Your fucking hands." I can't take it anymore, that forceful grip has thrown me over the cliff.
"My hands?" he inquires as they continue their deadly assault on my skin.
"Yes." I can't believe he has drug it out of me, even more so I can not believe I am confessing it all to him. "They are so fucking sexy. How they look, how they feel..." I pause leaning more into his touch. "How you use them on stage." I bite my lip and lower my voice, "How you use them off stage. How you could use them on..." Somehow I have enough sanity left to stop myself. God how I want to say on me. I hope he can't gleam that. Who am I kidding, he is not that dense.
He leans closer now, his lips at my ear, "On you."
I shudder, hard almost instantly at the mere thought. His hand releases mine, and achingly slow, moves down my chest, headed straight for the bulge in my pants. It slides over the bulge and my breath hitches.
"Mmm this what you want Tommy?" He moves his hand along the front of my pants again and I squirm under the touch.
I am fighting the urge to crawl into his lap and let his hands devour my body. He moves his hand up under my shirt, the skin to skin contact slowly becoming overwhelming. He brings his other hand down and rids me of my shirt. His hands move up my chest, the edges of the rings graze my nipples. I moan in response, finally getting the courage to look at him, another of my big mistakes tonight. There is amusement there, lined with lust. He has always wanted me and I'm now giving him a fucking engraved invitation to touch me. I can't help myself, I ache for his hands on me.
"You like that kitty? Hmm? You want more?"
"Yes." My reply breathless as I feel his hands slid down to the front of my pants. He unbuttons them just enough to slip his hand inside.
His fingers slowly snake around my cock and I swear I nearly coming at the slightest touch. He just holds it still and it feels so fucking good. I am so far gone, of their own volition my hands are making quick work to unbutton my pants the rest of the way. I desperately want to rid myself of the offensive material, so I push them down to my knees. His hand moves and I freeze, unable to do anything but let the sensation wash over me. Another stroke and my head falls back with a long, tortured moan.
"That's right." Adam lets out a low, dark, laugh. "You want to come don't you Tommy?"
"Uh huh." I whimper as my body arches into his touch.
His grip tightens then, the rings adding to the delicious friction. His hand slips up over the tip as he slicks his hand with the liquid leaking there. He slides it back down my cock, making me groan. He moves to his knees in front of me, his lips mere inches from mine as he speaks.
"Then do it kitty." His hand moves fast, his grip so tight. He's roughly jerking my cock. "Come all over my fucking hand."
I come totally unglued when his free hand slides into my hair roughly yanking my head to the side. A litany of curses spewing from my lips as my orgasm takes me over. I come so hard, spilling over his hand. I look down to see the come sliding down his hand. So sexy. He must have seen me watching as he pulls his hand away, bringing the come covered fingers to my lips. I eagerly lap at them, and it is his turn to moan. I open my eyes, to look into his as I lick the come from them. His other hand slides down to his pants. It's blatantly obvious how aroused he is, sweatpants leave nothing at all to the imagination. I pull away from his fingers, and let my eyes wander to the hand unabashedly stroking himself through the pants. My eyes move back up to his as I grow bold.
"Stroke it for me Adam. I want to see your hands on it."
Adam smirks pulling away, "I bet you do." he slides his pants off, and tosses his shirt aside.
He slides back against the headboard, and curls a finger at me. Smug fucking bastard, with that damn accursed finger. Why do I always respond so eagerly to that? Again my body betrays as I crawl up next to him.
"You got off thinking about it haven't you?"
I really don't want to answer that. It will just make him even more smug. I'm quickly distracted from the question as his fingertips slid along his cock. It twitches at the light touch as he wraps his fingers slowly around it. His rings shine in the light as his hand begins to slowly move.
"Mmm stroke it." The words slip out, free of conscience thought, my gaze permanently locked on that damn hand.
"Only if you answer my question..." His hand stills, forcing me to look up with pleading eyes. They beg him to continue while asking him not to make me answer. He reaches out and grabs my chin, "Tell me."
"Yes." I reply through gritted teeth.
"I know..." That god damn smirk moves across his face again. I hate him sometimes, I really do.
He releases my chin, his hand moving back to his cock. My eyes following that hand where ever it goes. He starts to stroke it again, a low groan slips from his lips. I moan in response, my eyes leaving his hand to look up at him. His eyes are slowly fluttering shut, his mouth open, a look of pure pleasure.
"Stroke it Adam, make it come." I lick my lips at the thought of his come sliding deliciously over his hand.
Fuck, I'm getting hard again, but how can I fucking not. Those hands stroking that cock. His hand is moving faster now. I can tell by his ragged breaths he's getting close. I can't help myself as my hand wanders down to my own cock, stroking it slowly.
"Come all over that hand for me Adam. You know that's what I want to see."
"Fuck." He moans as his grip tightens.
I tear my eyes away to look up at his face again. His stare is locked on me, and it makes me shudder. Within seconds, my name crosses his lips as he starts to come. My eyes dart back down to his hand on his cock, moaning as I watch the come slid down his fingers and over the rings there. My own grip tightens the moment my cock twitches in my hand. Before I can comprehend what's happening, he's on me. He slides down my body, his lips hovering just inches from my hard cock. There is nothing but pure hunger in his eyes as he tears my hand away, and drags his tongue along my cock.
"Shit."
I can't even think straight right now with him dragging his lips against me. He brings his hand up sliding a finger over the tip. The hand is replaced by his mouth, and my head falls back. God his mouth, so warm, wet. His slick finger teases my hole and I tense. His other hand comes up and slides along my thigh, a reassuring touch. It's not enough for me. He deep throats my cock and all tension is gone. No one has done that to me before, and it's fucking incredible. Before I know it, he's slips that damn finger in my ass. My mind triggers my mouth to protest, but before I can, he hits a spot. Holy fucking shit. I can't even think. He sucks harder, pressing against it again and again. I'm a quivering mess on the brink of a huge orgasm, I can sense it. He takes all of me again, and stabs it hard one final time and I am shooting deep down his throat, a scream tore from my lips.
He pulls off me with another god damn smirk as he wipes his lips. I'm a panting mess, barely able to register anything anymore. I force myself to sit up and look at him. My eyes dart to his lips and his tongue darts out, sliding across the pouted bottom lip. Fucking great, now I'm gonna be obsessed with his lips. I hate you Adam Lambert, I really fucking do.