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Summer Story part 18-d
Sex anyone? Oh, no! not you lovely ladies, goodness! *kofflaughkoff*
I've been trying to get these two in bed for a while-- huzzah! It's finally happened. Previous Parts are being happy here,getting into the Vat O' Lube, tsk.
Summer Story
Whit stood in the middle of the room and looked around while Charlie turned down the bed. He looked over at Whit and asked him, “Not as nice as places you’re used to?"
Whit looked at him in astonishment. “No! I mean—I’ve never actually been to a motel, it’s been pretty much…” and stopped. Well. What was there to say?
Charlie said, “Come on—never? Where did you—never mind, that was stupid,” and he blushed. “And none of my business, really.” He stood upright and looked down at the bed, crisp white sheets exposed, the brown blanket peeled away from the top and folded towards the foot of the bed—and blushed.
Whit watched his cheeks flame and grinned. The streak that always made him try and tease Red to distraction came awake and was ready to play. “So. What are you doing?” he drawled and watched Charlie search for an answer.
Charlie blushed even harder. Whit marveled. He didn’t think it was possible that the guy could blush more. How old was he and weren’t Marines more—tough then that? “So—did you hear me? What are you doing—what are you *going* to do, I should say.”
Charlie waved his hands about and grinned and looked a little embarrassed. “I’m –ah- think I’m, I’m going to get undressed?”
Whit smiled at him, “Well, yeah, if you’re sure…you have done this before?”
“Of course I have! Lots of times…I’m pretty good at it too.” He started to take his clothes off, hesitated. “I may be exaggerating a bit…on—on both counts….”
Whit laughed and pulled his clothes off, flinging them behind him and jumped onto the bed. Charlie looked surprised, grinned and quickly undressed himself, slid under the covers. “Well, now that we have that awkward ‘standing in your underwear and socks’ part out of the way--”
Whit kissed him, pulled him closer and Charlie gasped when they touched.
Charlie was everywhere, enthusiastic, eager but gentle. With lips, fingers, tongue, Charlie searched out every part of his body that made him fill with heat, made him groan-- he was tasted and touched and stroked and kissed until he was nearly wild from it—his heart hammered in his chest and throat, he’d never felt it this way before—never so…happy--so free. He had nothing to compare this feeling to; he had no idea how to act.
Charlie kissed his way around Whit’s chest, sucked a reddened and throbbing nipple into his mouth as his hand roamed along Whit’s hips, cradled his hard and leaking dick. “I’m so—this is so amazing,” he groaned.
Whit shook at the sound of his voice, “But I’m not doing anything…” he panicked briefly, and grabbed Charlie’s hand, but he stopped him, raised it to his mouth and kissed it.
“Don’t you know how good this feels to me—look at you, god—look at you.” Charlie laughed, his voice shaky and weak. He dropped his head on Whit’s shoulder. “Now, please,” he whispered, “I need all of you.”
Whit felt a stab of fear. How could he tell him—he could stop him, he knew Charlie would stop if he asked but it wasn’t fair. He owed him…more.
Hot breath skated over his hip and he shook. A stoke of wet tongue over his dick, over his thighs-- between his thighs and he was shaking, fighting to relax as Charlie lifted his legs, gently spread his knees.
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you—are you okay?” Whit lay back, eyes closed as he nodded, bit his lip a little and waited. Charlie deserved this. He owed it to him. He felt a light touch against his hole and jerked back a little—
Everything stopped while he caught his breath and than urged Charlie on, pressed against his head with shaking fingers, and now the touch was firmer, hot and wetter and he felt a first streak of—pleasure, it ran into his gut and pooled there, he felt warmer, and his breath came shorter, the smooth wet heat circled him, thrust gently in and he felt a river of warm pleasure fill him, relax him and at the same time pull him tight as a wire—he stopped trying to control the noise he made and tried to ride the tongue that tortured him so sweetly—so wonderfully. “Charlie, Charlie –oh—oh--”
His hips cleared the bed when Charlie eased the tip of a finger into him, rolling across the whorl of muscle, pushing in and suddenly Whit felt him, inside, stroking him, pressing against a spot in side of him that made shocks of pleasure light his nerves and fill his head.
“Charlie please, please!”
Whit was beside himself--shocked at himself. He wanted this like never before—it’d moved from being something for Charlie to something he really needed for himself. He wanted to feel Charlie inside, he wanted to make Charlie break over him like he was breaking over Charlie and when his mouth closed over him Whit knew he was going to die. His hips pushed up and up and he couldn’t get enough—it was too much and then just right, and he broke into a million pieces.
Almost before he could catch his breath Charlie was kneeling between his legs, was pressing into him, slowly carefully, and rubbing and stroking him the entire time, talking to him, how wonderfully hot and tight he was telling him how good, how beautiful he was, how special and it made Whit feel—that he was all those things. Charlie stroked in long, deep, and still careful, never taking his eyes off Whit, checking him--careful even when he bit his own lips raw, even when he shook and panted and moaned—even when he shouted and looked stunned to be coming, he never took his eyes off Whit. When he stopped and brought Whit off again, his blue eyes glowed with the pleasure of Whit screaming for him.
Whit lay with his arms around Charlie, and Charlie wrapped around him, petting him and murmuring, covering his chest with tiny kisses and he felt—alive, all over alive. It was great, it was wonderful—it was fun!
He grinned into the darkness and tightened his grip on Charlie who made a little noise of contentment and pushed back. “I acted like an idiot earlier--I’m so glad you didn’t take me home” Whit said.
“Ah—you’re glad? I’m ecstatic! I’m a whole bunch of other words—I’m hoping you’ll want to do this again soon?” Charlie kissed him hard and wetly and pulled back with a pop. “But first we should have cookies!”
Whit relaxed against the bed. He nodded, knowing the grin on his face was huge and goofy and he didn’t give a fuck.
I've been trying to get these two in bed for a while-- huzzah! It's finally happened. Previous Parts are being happy here,getting into the Vat O' Lube, tsk.
Summer Story
Whit stood in the middle of the room and looked around while Charlie turned down the bed. He looked over at Whit and asked him, “Not as nice as places you’re used to?"
Whit looked at him in astonishment. “No! I mean—I’ve never actually been to a motel, it’s been pretty much…” and stopped. Well. What was there to say?
Charlie said, “Come on—never? Where did you—never mind, that was stupid,” and he blushed. “And none of my business, really.” He stood upright and looked down at the bed, crisp white sheets exposed, the brown blanket peeled away from the top and folded towards the foot of the bed—and blushed.
Whit watched his cheeks flame and grinned. The streak that always made him try and tease Red to distraction came awake and was ready to play. “So. What are you doing?” he drawled and watched Charlie search for an answer.
Charlie blushed even harder. Whit marveled. He didn’t think it was possible that the guy could blush more. How old was he and weren’t Marines more—tough then that? “So—did you hear me? What are you doing—what are you *going* to do, I should say.”
Charlie waved his hands about and grinned and looked a little embarrassed. “I’m –ah- think I’m, I’m going to get undressed?”
Whit smiled at him, “Well, yeah, if you’re sure…you have done this before?”
“Of course I have! Lots of times…I’m pretty good at it too.” He started to take his clothes off, hesitated. “I may be exaggerating a bit…on—on both counts….”
Whit laughed and pulled his clothes off, flinging them behind him and jumped onto the bed. Charlie looked surprised, grinned and quickly undressed himself, slid under the covers. “Well, now that we have that awkward ‘standing in your underwear and socks’ part out of the way--”
Whit kissed him, pulled him closer and Charlie gasped when they touched.
Charlie was everywhere, enthusiastic, eager but gentle. With lips, fingers, tongue, Charlie searched out every part of his body that made him fill with heat, made him groan-- he was tasted and touched and stroked and kissed until he was nearly wild from it—his heart hammered in his chest and throat, he’d never felt it this way before—never so…happy--so free. He had nothing to compare this feeling to; he had no idea how to act.
Charlie kissed his way around Whit’s chest, sucked a reddened and throbbing nipple into his mouth as his hand roamed along Whit’s hips, cradled his hard and leaking dick. “I’m so—this is so amazing,” he groaned.
Whit shook at the sound of his voice, “But I’m not doing anything…” he panicked briefly, and grabbed Charlie’s hand, but he stopped him, raised it to his mouth and kissed it.
“Don’t you know how good this feels to me—look at you, god—look at you.” Charlie laughed, his voice shaky and weak. He dropped his head on Whit’s shoulder. “Now, please,” he whispered, “I need all of you.”
Whit felt a stab of fear. How could he tell him—he could stop him, he knew Charlie would stop if he asked but it wasn’t fair. He owed him…more.
Hot breath skated over his hip and he shook. A stoke of wet tongue over his dick, over his thighs-- between his thighs and he was shaking, fighting to relax as Charlie lifted his legs, gently spread his knees.
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you—are you okay?” Whit lay back, eyes closed as he nodded, bit his lip a little and waited. Charlie deserved this. He owed it to him. He felt a light touch against his hole and jerked back a little—
Everything stopped while he caught his breath and than urged Charlie on, pressed against his head with shaking fingers, and now the touch was firmer, hot and wetter and he felt a first streak of—pleasure, it ran into his gut and pooled there, he felt warmer, and his breath came shorter, the smooth wet heat circled him, thrust gently in and he felt a river of warm pleasure fill him, relax him and at the same time pull him tight as a wire—he stopped trying to control the noise he made and tried to ride the tongue that tortured him so sweetly—so wonderfully. “Charlie, Charlie –oh—oh--”
His hips cleared the bed when Charlie eased the tip of a finger into him, rolling across the whorl of muscle, pushing in and suddenly Whit felt him, inside, stroking him, pressing against a spot in side of him that made shocks of pleasure light his nerves and fill his head.
“Charlie please, please!”
Whit was beside himself--shocked at himself. He wanted this like never before—it’d moved from being something for Charlie to something he really needed for himself. He wanted to feel Charlie inside, he wanted to make Charlie break over him like he was breaking over Charlie and when his mouth closed over him Whit knew he was going to die. His hips pushed up and up and he couldn’t get enough—it was too much and then just right, and he broke into a million pieces.
Almost before he could catch his breath Charlie was kneeling between his legs, was pressing into him, slowly carefully, and rubbing and stroking him the entire time, talking to him, how wonderfully hot and tight he was telling him how good, how beautiful he was, how special and it made Whit feel—that he was all those things. Charlie stroked in long, deep, and still careful, never taking his eyes off Whit, checking him--careful even when he bit his own lips raw, even when he shook and panted and moaned—even when he shouted and looked stunned to be coming, he never took his eyes off Whit. When he stopped and brought Whit off again, his blue eyes glowed with the pleasure of Whit screaming for him.
Whit lay with his arms around Charlie, and Charlie wrapped around him, petting him and murmuring, covering his chest with tiny kisses and he felt—alive, all over alive. It was great, it was wonderful—it was fun!
He grinned into the darkness and tightened his grip on Charlie who made a little noise of contentment and pushed back. “I acted like an idiot earlier--I’m so glad you didn’t take me home” Whit said.
“Ah—you’re glad? I’m ecstatic! I’m a whole bunch of other words—I’m hoping you’ll want to do this again soon?” Charlie kissed him hard and wetly and pulled back with a pop. “But first we should have cookies!”
Whit relaxed against the bed. He nodded, knowing the grin on his face was huge and goofy and he didn’t give a fuck.
*happy, happy place*
*still worries anyway*
Hey, babe, ya got a rep. Deal. *g*
Never fear, I still love you. *smooches your cute cheek*
IOW, this chapter was great. And HOT. Did I mention hot? No? I'm mentioning it now! HOT! And so, so sweet. I like Charlie. ;)
*pets Whit*
*keeps eye on you anyway*
{{hugs}}
Re: *happy, happy place*
*feels eyes on her, shivers*
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This was another great chapter.
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*pet pet pet*
Yaaay! Some good stuff for our sad boy!
*bounce*
*and damn, nicely hawt, too*
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For me!!
*bounce*
Ahhhh, dress blues, shirt untucked, half open, tie all loose, pants undone, just off to the hips...
Uhh...what?
Yeah.
:)
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*i look forward to it*
Whoops!
*G*
for you - Man, poor Whit has so much baggage!! I can't believe he's panicking mid-sex and just figuring out that sex can be incredibly selfish. *whimpers* Poor baby! I'm cautiously optimistic that this won't blow up in his face! g* Of course there is the whole Marine thing that may come into play if Whit is totally out in Smallville.
Roxy, even your happy segments have me waiting for the shoe to drop you evol woman! *adores*
Re: Whoops!
Ah, my dear, you're too good to me.*g* (tosses shoe up and down)
Hey, I like that WIP a lot! (yes, I'm horribly nosey!) I owe you! *G*
Re: Whoops!
Whoot!!!
And don't think I won't collect!
I'm like the Godfather!
Only half-swedish.
And a girl.
And poor.
And too busy to run a crime syndicate.
And much prettier.
But otherwise, just like the Godfather!
Re: Whoops!
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*grabs all of you for a very large hug*
And I absolutely adore the munchies that Charlie gets.
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Naw, I'm kiddding! *joins you in hug, pinches a few butts*
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I'm so glad you liked it though. All this sweetness and light, it's kind of fun!
I'll have to fix that....
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Also, just a helpful note here. In your memories of Summer Story, you left out your entry from 1/12/05. You've got it labeled as part 18 in your LJ entry, but it isn't in the memories at all. It should probably be part 17b.
It's ONLY the second most important part EVER, where Clark and Lex have sex again. And I only know this because I'm obsessed with teenaged Clark and Lex HAVING SEX. I KNOW this, okay, and I'm so going to get therapy for it when I decide it's a PROBLEM. Until then, I'll just reread part 17b a few more times. :)
Anyway, a couple of days later you've got another part 18. It's the part where Whit and Charlie meet up at the Beanery for their date. That one is in your memories.
So, who's Charlie?
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As for your terrrible obssessio with teenage Clex, tut, tut. I am appalled, I blame myself, I really have to stop myself from writing endless streams of same...oooo. Did I type that?
You really thought it was me? heee! I'm in there a lot, sure , but Charlie's based on my Crush! *sigh* who happens to really be this sweet. Ah! It makes me want to steal him and do bad bad things to him, he's so sweet! :) Cookies we joke about, so I popped them in here.
Ah--it's good to be the Pornster!
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After my extensive therapy, I'm pretty sure there will be a Syndrome or a Complex named after you. :)
And you have excellent taste in crushes. :)
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