|notreallyme10 (notreallyme10) wrote,|
@ 2007-08-20 12:36:00
Post 513 Series
Originally posted: 6/6/07 LJ
I reposition his wrists so that they are facing up, the rope pulling tight against the tender skin there. The little ham knows exactly what I want and struggles lightly against the bindings causing them to pull just a bit tighter. I take my shot.
Sitting back to examine his entire body, I’m leaning towards fucking him instead of taking his picture. But I stay focused, there is time for both.
I rarely blindfold him. Gag yes, because how the hell else can you shut him up. But Justin is very visual and more often then not I want his eyes on me, watching what I’m doing.
For my purposes today, however, I just couldn’t pass up blindfolding him. He looks extremely hot and so fucking young with his eyes covered.
I stroke his chest and nipples and watch as his mouth falls open. I take another shot of him, panting, face framed by his arms.
I set the camera to the side and straddle his upper chest. He hates not being able to see and I can tell it's getting to him. I may have to blindfold him more often. I rest my dick across his lips and reach for the camera. He hears the shutter and moans, probably imagining the picture in his head.
I push my dick between his lips and fuck his face. He’s helpless and that thought makes me leak on his tongue. I click a few shots down my chest to his face and wonder if I managed to get them in focus.
I pull out and take a few more shots of his wet, swollen lips.
I move down his body. I know what I want. Last night while trying to fall asleep I visualized the photograph that inspired today’s fun. I use my finger tips to ever so lightly tickle the unbelievably soft skin just inside and under his hip bone.
Goosebumps break out across his belly and I swear I catch the image of them rising.
Justin’s skin contrasts beautifully with dark sheets, but there is something both innocent and obscene at the same time about seeing him against white sheets.
Very few of these photographs will see the light of day. I do recognize the fine line between art and our sex life. But I love slipping shots of my finger probing his slick hole into my portfolio just to freak him out.
He’s going away, for two fucking weeks. It's not that I can’t live without the pain in the ass for a few days- its that I won’t be giving him a pain in the ass for two weeks. It’s the most irritating thing about monogamy, but I’d eat pussy before I’d follow him around like a sad puppy.
Sure he is going off to further his career, but it was a lot easier to be supportive when I was fucking any ass I wanted. Unfortunately this is a great opportunity and I’m excited for him so I can’t even really bring myself to be a dick about him going.
At least not a complete dick. I have been torturing him a little. For the last few days every time we fuck I have been holding him on edge for forever. For hours. I’ve been thinking about how long he plans on leaving me hanging and then teasing him relentlessly. Last night when he was tied to the bed I brought him to the edge so many times I thought he might cry. He begged and pleaded and made promises he won’t keep.
I used his body for a long time, coming over and over, never letting him join me.
I looked at him, his body stretched taut, straining for my touch, for anything to help him with his little problem. Covered in sweat and my come. Breathing so heavy you’d think he just finished a fucking marathon.
I stroke his dick softly with just my finger tips and I can tell it's almost enough. I’ve pushed him so far I could probably make him come with one finger, with one flick of the tongue, maybe even with just the right words.
I line our dicks up and slide through the slickness that has accumulated there. He’s soaking and it feels good. It only takes a few strokes but I’m pressing hard, not teasing anymore.
It may be the loudest orgasm I’ve ever seen him have, which is saying something. He fucking screams. His body contorting to angles that look almost painful. Even after it was over he continued to moan and beg and rut. Like it wasn’t enough. So I untied him and let him take what he needed.
He turned me over and fucked my ass so hard I thought it might be pay back. But when I looked back at his face I could see how lost in it he still was.
And today he leaves.
I am seriously looking forward to things getting back to normal around here. There was a time, when I first moved here, that our life was relatively stress free. I want that back.
Enough fucking travel and family shit.
Unfortunately, that is not in my immediate future. Justin is gone and Mikey and his Munchkin are coming for a visit. To add to my misery, Justin, Lindsay and Mikey joined forces and decided it would be just adorable if my son came for a visit at the same time. I’m always happy for a visit with Gus but a weekend of the fathers and their kids is too much fucking cuteness for me.
“You need to get fucked.”
“You always have had a way of putting things in perspective.”
“Lets get a babysitter-” I shake my head at the absolute absurdity of those words coming out of my mouth “-and go out and find someone to fuck that tight ass of yours.”
Mikey looks around to make sure none of the other parents on the playground can hear our conversation.
“As I recall, going out with you usually entails you fucking some tight ass and me going home alone.”
“Poor little Mikey. Well things aren’t the way they used to be.”
“No they aren’t.”
I see the sadness on his face. I don’t know what he’s thinking about- the list of possibilities is long. I’m an egomaniac and after adding a healthy dose of denial I decide he is mourning our past and the things he wanted for us.
“It's too hard. I miss him more than I could have ever imagined.”
If only he let me stay in my happy place where everything is about me. I think about the few days I spent alone between Justin’s departure and Mikey’s arrival. It gives me a slight idea of what it must be like for him. When did I get so fucking dependant on having someone else around.
“You warned me. You fucking told me that I couldn’t handle this. And I feel like shit for saying it, but sometimes I wish I had listened to you.”
“I’m full of shit Mikey, full of shit.”
I hold his face in my hands and say it with the conviction I want him to feel. Used to be I could shove my tongue down his throat and fix all his problems.
I fucking hate not being able to fix things. Justin says all this bullshit about how I shouldn’t take it on myself to make things right for everyone else. But who the fuck else is going to do it.
When we send the kids back to their mothers, I convince Mikey to stay for a few extra days. I may falsely lead him to believe that I shouldn’t be left alone without Justin any longer with a strategically placed drinking binge one night after the kids are in bed.
We’ve tried a million times in the last few years, always at Mikey’s insistence, to spend time together like we did before Gus and Justin and Ben- before our lives got complicated and we grew up- or some shit. But it always seems just out of reach. It's fucking impossible to go back.
Somehow this time it's different. Maybe it’s a new city or what he’s been through this year. Who fucking knows.
I fucking hate introspection.
We spend three days in a haze of drugs and alcohol. We dance at every gay club worth going to. Mikey gets sucked off in the backroom and doesn’t even give me shit for not.
Later that night he tells me it wasn’t the blow job that made him feel better. It was realizing he didn’t love Ben any less afterwards.
We laugh and talk and make fucking fools of ourselves and trash the apartment.
When we sleep together at night I notice the one difference. The thing that makes this all possible again. I can wrap around him and hold him close without feeling the insistence of his cock against my thigh. Without the pressure of his longing looks.
Mikey gave up on us a long time ago. But even when he and Ben were first together he still fought with his feelings for me. And then things changed between us. Our friendship was more of a habit or an obligation for a long time.
But losing Deb and Ben brought us back together. It's fucked up how your mind forces you to find the good in situations like these.
It's been a long time since I really felt the connection we used to have. And believe it or not, I like it better knowing we are on a more even footing this time around. Everyone always thought I liked stringing Mikey along. I just didn’t know any other way.
“Did you bring it with you?”
He is such a shit.
“Are you seriously trying to play coy? It doesn’t suit you when you pull this shit. You know perfectly well what I am talking about.”
“What makes you so sure I brought it with me?”
“Um let's see, it's currently your favorite play toy and you beg me to fuck you with it every chance we get. My poor cock is feeling neglected.”
“That has to be one of the funniest things I have ever heard. No one in their right mind would ever describe your cock as neglected.”
“No one would ever describe me as being in my right mind. So do you have your little friend out or not?”
“It's not out exactly.”
“Jesus Justin, you could have told me, we could have skipped all this fucking chit chat. Tell me exactly what you have done so far.”
“Well I just got out of the shower and I was laying here on the bed thinking about how much I miss you and rubbing my cock.”
“This is fucking ridiculous, I have got to fuck you. When you get home you aren’t getting out of this bed for a week. You are going to be at my beck and fucking call.”
He sounds exasperated as though I am so hard to handle.
“I was laying on the bed rubbing my cock thinking about missing you and thinking how good it would feel if you were here to fuck me right now. So I got it out and I lubed it really good, but I didn’t prepare myself at all. The cold metal and lube felt really amazing on my tight hole. And then I pushed it in. Really slow. Letting it stretch me. And then I was just laying here, feeling full, getting used to it, when you called. I love how it stays cold for a long time after its in me.”
“Mmhmm. What are you going to do now?”
“Well, before you called, I was planning on fucking myself with it.”
“Then by all means don’t let me interrupt.”
I can hear him moving around a bit and his voice and breathing are changing ever so slightly.
“There is no give with this thing. Every move I make I just feel this unrelenting pressure inside. It feels like it just keeps building and building making me slowly crazy. God, I wish you were here to bend me over and really fuck me with it.”
“I’m telling you my cock is getting jealous of that thing. You might want to hide it somewhere when you get back.”
“Just talk to me… I can’t fucking... fuck.”
I know just what he wants to hear. I talk slow and soft.
“I wish I was there to see it stretching you open, to feel how hard and wet your cock is. If I was there, I’d angle it just right. I’d hit your prostate on every thrust and I wouldn’t let you touch your dick. I’d make you cry and beg to touch yourself. I’d make it hurt Justin. And you would come so hard. Your hole would get so tight on the dildo it would hurt more but you’d love it. All of it. And then I’d flip you over and fuck your mouth. And when I was ready I’d come all over your pretty face and in your hair.”
He groans and grunts until I can hear him coming. My dick is throbbing but I have been focusing on him. He breaths heavily into the phone for a few minutes and I just listen.
“You were pretty amazing in that little fantasy of yours.”
“If you’re suggesting that it would happen differently in real life, I would be happy to give you a demonstration when you get home. Since you like this metal dildo so much, I think you need a metal butt plug. Something you can wear for hours. When you are at the store or painting or at dinner.”
“Mmmm. That sounds good. “
I can hear how sleepy he is.
“Go to bed. I’ll talk to you later.”
Hours later my phone rings. I pull myself out of a deep sleep and look at the clock. 4am. It's either bad news or him.
I may have to kill him if this isn’t good. I pick up but don’t say anything.
“I realized you didn’t come. I need to hear you come Brian.”
“So is this call for you or me.”
“Definitely me. I’ve been dreaming about you and I woke up so hard. The only thing that will help is hearing you come.”
He is whining. Justin doesn’t whine very often.
“So I guess you better tell me about your dream.”
“You had me on my hands and knees and you were fucking me really hard. I was too busy bracing myself to touch my dick and you weren’t doing it for me. But I felt like I was really close anyway.
“And then you came and it was so wet and I could feel it filling me up. I thought you were going to pull out, but you didn’t. You rolled us onto our sides and your dick was only half hard and you weren’t fucking me but you were moving around a little, giving yourself a break, getting ready to go again. I was so fucking wet inside and your dick was slipping around in it.
“My dick was pulsing and my ass was twitching. I still felt like I was so close but you just weren’t giving me enough to get me there. But you were touching me all over, your hands were on my chest and in my hair and on my face. My whole body was tingling.
“I could feel you getting harder. I wanted you to start fucking me again, but you didn’t. You pressed your cock right against my prostate and then just held it right there. Pushing.”
His story and my hand get me right were he wants me. I’m careful to be extra vocal… just to ensure I get to sleep the rest of the night. I listen to him come for the second time that night and decide that while phone sex may not be ideal it certainly does the trick in a pinch.
He will be home in two days.
His meetings have gone great so far. He wined and dined with galleries in London, Paris, Madrid and Rome. His agent felt with this trip he could get seen and start a name for himself in Europe. With any luck this will mean some pretty nice European vacations for us in the next few years.
He only has one meeting left but I can tell he is really dragging. I get the feeling his agent has been running him ragged.
Assuming none of the galleries demand work on a particularly short timetable I am hoping for some down time for the two of us.
Between Kinnetik, which is keeping me busy with contract work and photo shoots, my own personal photography, Justin’s painting and comic work, not to mention all of the family shit we have been through in the last year, we haven’t had a chance to relax in far too long.
What the hell was the point of selling Kinnetik if I don’t get to do what I want now and then.
I know Justin needs a break. A real break. He is used to stress, hell he has dealt with more shit than most people twice his age and he’s plenty tough. He can handle it all and better than anyone else I know. But I was thinking, for a little while, I would like it if he didn’t have to.
So I thought maybe I’d take him somewhere. But he’s just going to be returning from two weeks of exhausting travel and in the last year I feel like we have spent more time in Pittsburgh than we have at home in New York.
So I told everyone except for Mikey to fuck off for two weeks starting the day Justin returns. I talked to his agent and she agreed to back off and Cynthia knows that I’d fuck her before I’d helped her with something for Kinnetik in the next two weeks.
The first two days are reserved for my cock getting reacquainted with his ass but I booked us a full day at a spa for his third day home. I have no doubt he will mock me the entire day but I also know he will love getting rubbed all over by some hot guy- yes I have thought of everything.
After that I don’t know what the fuck we will do, but I do know Justin and I have no doubt that he will keep us plenty busy. He always has some little restaurant, play, gallery or club he is dying to check out.
He will probably pee himself when he hears we are taking a vacation.