Home-->Mom, Don't Go Here
|
Return to Innocence
“Just believe in destiny
As I lie here on the verge of sleep, I can’t help but marvel at the strange and wonderful twists and turns my life has taken. A long and odd road that has brought me to a destination I never would have dreamt, never could have imagined. The man beside me sighs in his sleep and rolls towards me, flinging one arm across my chest. I take his hand and bring it to my lips, and he sighs again but doesn’t wake. I press both our hands back to my chest, over my heart, and let images of the last few hours flit through my mind as the call of sleep beckons and my eyes slip closed. It had already been a night of new experiences, strange events, and I didn’t even hesitate when I saw the sign proclaiming vacancies at the E. and P. Motel. I knew I had desires this night, lots of them, but not one of them involved setting up a tent trailer. I stopped the car and glanced over at Fox, who was looking back at me with smoldering intent. “Stay here.” I left him in the car and wasted no time in procuring a room, almost laughing at the way the night clerk was unobtrusively trying to see out the window and into the car, trying to find out what one balding, myopic old man might have picked up. I interrupted his scrutiny with a request, using my best authoritarian tone to keep any snide comments firmly in the back of his mind. Obviously, I wasn’t the first person to ever find myself in such a predicament, and for a few dollars more tacked onto the bill, he handed me a packet that I shoved into the pocket of my pants. Then, keys in hand I went back to the car, and opened the passenger door, holding out my hand. “Such a gentleman.” Fox murmured. “For now,” I replied just as softly, which earned me a raised eyebrow but no comment as I took his hand and led him away from the car, up a flight of outdoor stairs, to room 224. I released my grip on him and let myself into the room, ignoring the lightswitch to my right, stepping forward a bit, and then turning around as Fox walked in behind me. As soon as he was clear of the door, I reached around him and slammed it shut, then pushed him up against it, hard, and took his mouth with mine. A mew of surprise turned into a gasp as I forced my tongue past lips and teeth, plundering his mouth with reckless abandon, relishing the taste of him. I plunged my hands into his thick soft hair, holding his mouth firmly to mine, using my body to hold the rest of him. He wasn’t idle. His hands wandered busily up and down my back, provoking a shiver as he played a delicate scale up my spine. Then he wrapped them round my neck, apparently holding on for dear life. I felt warm fingers tracing the base of my skull, and I shivered again. Deciding it was definitely an alpha male kind of night for me, and not wanting him to be able to distract me from my ultimate goal of fucking him stupid, I let go of his head and reached behind me for his hands. Grabbing him by his slender wrists, I slapped them up above his head, holding them in place with one hand while pushing and pulling at his t-shirt, finally getting it untucked from his pants and shoving it up almost to his neck. I brushed my clothed chest against his bare one for a moment, relishing the whimpering noise he made against my mouth, and the futile struggling of his arms. Then I abandoned his mouth and swooped down on his body, nipping and licking at his chest in a way I knew he liked. He groaned and shifted his hips and tried to twist out of my grip. I took one perfect nipple in my mouth and suckled, then bit, then licked, and he groaned again, louder this time. When I thought he might actually loose himself from my restraint because of this, I switched to the other side, soon raising that nipple to a hard red nub as well, and I could feel his desire growing. I stroked him through the material of his jeans and returned to his face, using the same suck, bite, lick technique on his mouth, his ears, his throat. “Oh, Christ…” I pulled back and smiled at him. “You look troubled, my son,” I spun him around with a suddenness that startled him, and pushed him back towards the bed, falling with him when the backs of his knees connected with the mattress, but catching myself with most of my weight on my arms so as not to crush him. At least, not yet. I resumed kissing him, holding his arms above his head again, matching his thrashing movements and laboured breathing with my own, meeting desire with desire, but holding back, wanting to stay in control, wanting him to lose control, knowing he would and loving that knowledge, loving him… I sat up, straddling his hips, gently thrusting forward as I peeled his shirt over his head and threw it behind me. This feat was cause for a celebration, including feasting on the bare flesh of his chest and stomach, sliding back across his crotch so I could reach his navel with my tongue, tasting him there, then sliding forward again to catch the ensuing yelp on my tongue. I kept my hands busy running up and down the length of that lean swimmer’s body, scoring his ribs lightly with my nails, then feeling his abdominals contract as his back arched and he bucked his hips. He clutched at the bedspread and moaned incoherently. I moved further down the bed, still straddling him, now at his knees, and reached for the zipper of his pants. Despite what the movies tell you, jeans never come off in one quick motion, and it took some half-skillful half-clumsy maneuvering on both our parts to relieve him of the rest of his clothes, which I also launched into the air, for once not giving a rat’s ass if they were folded neatly or not. My need for him was almost overwhelming, and I attacked his mouth again, which by this time was kiss swollen, and my enthusiasm made him whimper. Or maybe it was the rough drag of my cotton pants across his now naked erection. Whatever. He reached up and pulled off my glasses, folded down the earpiece and managed to set them on the bedside table without losing contact with my mouth. Then he cupped the back of my head with his big hands, kissing me back, giving as good as he got, and my heart rate soared dangerously. I sat up again, this time leaning back on his thighs, and pulled my shirt over my head. I felt more than heard him gasp, and his hips pumped double time. I laughed and aimed the shirt in the general direction his clothes had gone, then pushed away his hands with a mock growl as he fumbled with the zipper of my pants. I kissed him again as I firmly placed his hands above his head, then slipped down his body, just to hear that whimpering noise again, and stood, somewhat unsteadily, to take off the rest of my clothes. I pulled the condom and lube I had received from the manager from the pocket of my pants, threw them on the nightstand, then let the pants fall with a jangle of keys and pocket change, stepping lightly out of them, out of my briefs, out of my socks. So maybe sometimes life does grant you that one movie moment. I lied down beside Fox on the bed and pulled him into a rough embrace, wrapping my arms around his back and entwining my legs with his longer ones. Slowly I began thrusting my hips forward and rocking him in towards me at the same time, while I latched onto his throat with my mouth, sucking at his Adam’s apple, knowing it would leave a mark, knowing, but not caring. I felt his quickening pulse with my lips and tasted the vibration of what might have been a purr with my tongue, then pushed him away so suddenly that he cried out in dismay and tried to scramble back into my arms. Holding him firmly on his back, I blazed a trail of wet kisses down his torso, pausing to lick circles around his navel because I knew it made him crazy, then going lower, pushing his legs apart enough to lick at the crease where leg met body. He pushed at my shoulders, causing me to start and turn to face him, questioning his actions, especially in light of my own mounting desire. “Wait…I’m-wait-“ he gasped, struggling to sit up. I cocked my head to one side and stared at him quizzically, noting with some pleasure his disheveled state, clear even though the only light available was a combination of parking lot lights and the moon, streaking through the half closed blinds on the window. Fox’s chest was fairly heaving as he struggled for air, and he looked at me with eyes shiny, half-dazed, beseeching. I gave him a hard, sunny grin. “Mmm, no." And pounced on him, pushing him onto his back, pushing his legs apart, pushing my tongue into his mouth. I wrapped one hand in his hair, and reached over to the bedstand with the other, moving faster and a little clumsier as I felt a growing dampness between us. I pulled away, leaving him writhing, eyes closed, mouth moving but no words forming, and knelt between his legs. I tore open both packets, sheathed myself, and then gently prepared him, touching and stroking and stretching until he was thrusting helplessly, moaning and begging. He cried out when I entered him, and I feared that I had moved too fast, so I stopped, leaned forward, and pulled him up so his weight was on my arm instead of the bed. “Shhh…just relax….” I stroked his abdomen softly, still not moving, letting him adjust, and soon enough he opened his eyes just halfway, smiled and whispered, “Let’s dance.” I tried to go slow, tried to make it last, but growing need on both our parts sped our movements until we were both overwhelmed, him first, then me, needing only the tightening of his muscles and the sound of his cries to tip me over the edge. We lay together a long time, both breathing hard, our sweat soaked bodies pressed together. I kissed and bit at his shoulder, loving the way it made him shiver, and he ran his hands up and down my back, playing those scales on my spine again. At long last I hugged him then pulled away slowly, holding myself until I could stand, barely managing not to stagger to the bathroom, where I cleaned myself, then ran warm water over a cloth for him. He hadn’t moved when I walked back to the bed, and I thought he had fallen asleep, but his eyes were open and he smiled a goofy grin as I ran the damp cloth over his chest, stomach and crotch. This last made him groan and raise his hips, but half-heartedly. “Oh, god…” he murmured “I thought I was Jesus,” I replied lightly, tossing the cloth in the general direction of the bathroom. “I think I’m paralyzed…” I laughed and pulled the bedspread out from under him like David Copperfield playing with a table setting. I threw it to the floor, then yanked the rest of the bedding out from under him just enough to pull back over us as I slid into the bed next to him. I held the clock up close to my face, not wanting to put on my glasses, and figured out how to set the alarm. Putting it back down on the table, I turned and spooned up behind my lover, insinuating one leg between his and wrapping my arms around him so my hands lay splayed across his chest. He stroked my forearms absently and I licked and nuzzled the nape of his neck. “We should go dancing more often,” he ventured, sounding sleepy. “As long as you remember who leads.” “Always…” his voice trailed off. The last thing Walter Skinner heard before sleep was the sound of his
name being murmured into his chest.
|
  |
