Stand By Me 9
2/11/05 12:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHaaa! Don't you love this part--where all the pieces are just flying around and hitting the page (so to speak) and sticking? I'm up a few bits and feeling good about Preacher Daddybastardbadtouch. Still re-writing his bits to fall in line with what's new, so to celebrate--porn!
Yes, actual porn--with sticky bits. Or is that TMI? It's actually very mild, but that's coming from me, so--*shruggrin*
Gather around, my little chick-a-dees, tuck yourselves in and no questions until the end. And I want to see all your hands on top of the blankets.
“Three packs of wintergreen gum, please.”
“Okay, Mr. Luthor, which brand would you care for?” Mr. Guy asked, “We have a couple of brands,” he said and the pride behind his words said "we may be a small town, but we have just as many choices as those big city boys do."
“Call me Lex please, and I guess Beechnut will do just fine.”
Clark peeked around the swiveling magazine rack, swinging it to keep it between himself and the object of his curiosity.
Alexander J. Luthor, right in front of him-sort of, actually more to the left and up a little—Geez!<> Clark hated it when his brain shot off in a dozen different directions <>like Hi- ho Silver Away he thought. He watched how Alexander Joseph Luthor acted—he didn’t act like he was special, he seemed like a regular Joe. Just better dressed than most.
He felt someone standing behind him and turned—oh! It was Whitney. Clark’s heart did a slow roll and beat harder. Whitney smiled but he was looking at Alexander Luthor.
“What’s the word, Clark? You watching our little preacher fellow?”
“Shh! Show some respect!” Clark was embarrassed. Whitney was…dangerous.
“Come for a swim,” he said, and Clark knew it was less of a request and more of a statement of fact. He looked at Whitney, searching his face to get some sense of what was on his mind. Whitney just smiled at him, it was like quicksand, molasses, sweet and thick and pulling him in and sucking him down… “I can’t --I don’t--my dad….”
Whitney touched him, right in the store in front of everyone—well, Mr. Guy and Mr. Luthor, who weren’t looking but Whitney touched his—his butt right there… “Okay! Okay, I’ll go with you” he mumbled and felt the heat run from his cheeks to his ears. They left the store and Alexander’s head whipped around and he was staring, staring right at*him*. Whitney stopped and frowned at Alexander—and suddenly smirked. Clark shivered as he put his hand on his shoulder. The thin striped knit shirt he wore did nothing to insulate him from the insistent heat of Whitney’s grip.
“Come on, Clark, the *lake’s* waiting.” He said, looking at Lex’s mouth. Clark’s eyes went to his lip too, the top lip had a deep scar pulling it a tiny bit to the side, just a little. Tendrils of red hair had broken away from the wavy mop swept back off his forehead, they framed his eyes and Clark wanted to touch that hair so badly. The pressure on his shoulder increased.
“Come on already Clark, let’s go.”
Clark nodded and followed Whitney with out a word, he could feel Alexander’s eyes on him, and Whitney’s hand skated from his shoulder to his back before lifting.
At the lake he waited. He felt something hanging in the air—something Whitney held in his hands, he could only wait for Whitney to let go, or tighten the hold. It felt like a thunderstorm waiting to break and finally Whitney turned to him, “Race you to the water” and he stripped off his shirt, kicked off shoes and dropped his pants. He pulled off his shorts and stood naked and smiling, waiting for Clark.
He was gold all over, and perfect and Clark felt huge and clumsy and stupid and scared, but he began to take off his clothes, stripping slowly until at last he was naked and embarrassed, arms around his chest and curled slightly into himself. Whit was just staring, so Clark ran down the short dock there, and leaped into the lake.
Whit whooped and hollered and ran after him, dousing Clark when he hit the water hard, his arms and legs drawn in like a ball.
Clark coughed water and Whitney surfaced right in front of him, grabbed Clark’s neck and kissed him hard, roughly biting his lips and tongue. Clark yelped and tried to draw back. This was so different from the first kiss—he was a little scared by it, but Whitney wouldn’t let him move, he attacked his mouth again and again, jabbing his tongue in, sucking his lip between his teeth and pulling, chewing on it, and Clark was breathing loud and hard. He felt Whitney’s penis bump his leg under the water and he gasped and jumped. Whit groaned and pressed against Clark.
“Kiss me back, Clark, come on,” and he ran his hand over Clark’s penis, gripped it, his hand was so hot. Clark swept both of his hands out of the water, showering their faces--grabbed Whit’s head desperately, and kissed him back, it was wild, frantic, too fast, too hard, too messy, too much teeth and too much tongue and Whitney groaned into his mouth and Clark felt him, hotter than the water, against his leg, and felt him moving against him, every time his teeth nipped Whit’s lip, he felt his penis jerk against him—he broke away and Whit gasped, grinned…and pumped his hand on Clark, “Like that do you, can you feel that, I like it. Go ahead Clark, tell me what you like, it’s just you and me and you can say what you want…I’ll tell you what I want.”
Whit sounded so loud, was he *hearing* him or was it just—he felt so sensitive all over…
“I want to kiss you Clark, kiss you all over, start with your nipples and work my way to your cock,” and he pinched and rolled his fingers over them and Clark cried out—the pleasure he felt was close to pain, it made him jerk forward and Whitney did it again and he begged him to please-- do it again.
“Okay,” he said and used his mouth. Clark thought he heard his heart slam against his breastbone, he shook from head to toe—and Whitney stopped. “No! I – I mean, please!”
“Sit up on the dock Clark, go ahead”
Clark grabbed the edge of the dock and pulled himself out of the water, and flipped so he was sitting, his legs dangling and—he looked down at himself, oh, geez, he was hard, his penis curved over his leg, it twitched as he looked. Whitney licked his lips and Clark twitched again.
“What—what do you want me to do?” he asked, and his voice nearly failed him. Just sit, he was commanded, and then his penis was on fire, wet fire, it was so shocking, so good so unbelievable, he dropped back on his elbows and his head fell back, he moaned loud, long, choking when Whitney began to bob his head up and down on him, god, god, god, oh—oh—oh—his hips rose into the air, he could feel the muscles of his butt and his thighs tense, tighter and tighter and then liquid fire ran down his back and his body tried to bend in impossible ways as he came in Whitney’s mouth. He dropped down, his head cracking against the wooden boards.
“Clark! You okay?” Whitney looked panicked for a moment until Clark groaned out a shaky yes.
He grinned then and pulled himself up on the dock to lay on Clark. He began to pump his hips slowly against Clark, staring in his eyes, grinning and Clark felt himself getting hard again. Whit raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Jackpot, hunh!” and picked up the pace, grinding into Clark’s belly, trapping both their cocks between them. Clark watched Whitney’s face change, the sly smile always on his lips faded away slowly, he clenched his teeth, he gasped a little and bit his lip, Clark shifted so that they touched more and Whitney cried out softly and closed his eyes, his head dropped and his hair swept across Clark’s chest and Clark grunted and came again, the heat flowing between them made Whitney’s eyes fly open, “Jesus…Clark?” He jerked. “Oh god.” Shivered and spilled on Clark’s stomach, slid in their come and yelled though his orgasm, before collapsing on an exhausted Clark.
“That was a show and a half,” he muttered against Clark’s chest.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, nothing—we should get back in the water though.”
“Oh—okay”, Clark yawned and stood when Whitney rolled off of him.
“Turn around.” Whit said, “I think I saw something on your back.”
“Okay,” Clark said and turned. He ran his hand through the come on his belly and groin, curious, feeling the texture, wondering if he could tell whose was whose. He heard the splash of Whit hitting the water behind him and curiosity over came fear, he licked at his wet hand, a quick lap of the tongue against his sticky fingers. The taste was—not nasty, not what he expected, salty and citrus and a faint taste of…of mushrooms, he thought. And popped a finger in his mouth to suck it clean.
“God, Clark, you’re going to kill me.” he heard, and whirled around to see Whitney staring at him. Clark blushed and hurriedly leaped back into the water.
Whit floated over to him and wrapped his legs around his waist. He wound his arms around Clark’s neck and said in a deep husky voice, “I was right. I knew you’d taste like lemon drops. I’ve never--”he stopped and laughed. “Well. Never mind.”
And guess what's coming next... anyone...anyone? If you guess right there'll be a little prize! *applies lipbalm and puckers up*
Stay tuned!
Yes, actual porn--with sticky bits. Or is that TMI? It's actually very mild, but that's coming from me, so--*shruggrin*
Gather around, my little chick-a-dees, tuck yourselves in and no questions until the end. And I want to see all your hands on top of the blankets.
“Three packs of wintergreen gum, please.”
“Okay, Mr. Luthor, which brand would you care for?” Mr. Guy asked, “We have a couple of brands,” he said and the pride behind his words said "we may be a small town, but we have just as many choices as those big city boys do."
“Call me Lex please, and I guess Beechnut will do just fine.”
Clark peeked around the swiveling magazine rack, swinging it to keep it between himself and the object of his curiosity.
Alexander J. Luthor, right in front of him-sort of, actually more to the left and up a little—Geez!<> Clark hated it when his brain shot off in a dozen different directions <>like Hi- ho Silver Away he thought. He watched how Alexander Joseph Luthor acted—he didn’t act like he was special, he seemed like a regular Joe. Just better dressed than most.
He felt someone standing behind him and turned—oh! It was Whitney. Clark’s heart did a slow roll and beat harder. Whitney smiled but he was looking at Alexander Luthor.
“What’s the word, Clark? You watching our little preacher fellow?”
“Shh! Show some respect!” Clark was embarrassed. Whitney was…dangerous.
“Come for a swim,” he said, and Clark knew it was less of a request and more of a statement of fact. He looked at Whitney, searching his face to get some sense of what was on his mind. Whitney just smiled at him, it was like quicksand, molasses, sweet and thick and pulling him in and sucking him down… “I can’t --I don’t--my dad….”
Whitney touched him, right in the store in front of everyone—well, Mr. Guy and Mr. Luthor, who weren’t looking but Whitney touched his—his butt right there… “Okay! Okay, I’ll go with you” he mumbled and felt the heat run from his cheeks to his ears. They left the store and Alexander’s head whipped around and he was staring, staring right at*him*. Whitney stopped and frowned at Alexander—and suddenly smirked. Clark shivered as he put his hand on his shoulder. The thin striped knit shirt he wore did nothing to insulate him from the insistent heat of Whitney’s grip.
“Come on, Clark, the *lake’s* waiting.” He said, looking at Lex’s mouth. Clark’s eyes went to his lip too, the top lip had a deep scar pulling it a tiny bit to the side, just a little. Tendrils of red hair had broken away from the wavy mop swept back off his forehead, they framed his eyes and Clark wanted to touch that hair so badly. The pressure on his shoulder increased.
“Come on already Clark, let’s go.”
Clark nodded and followed Whitney with out a word, he could feel Alexander’s eyes on him, and Whitney’s hand skated from his shoulder to his back before lifting.
At the lake he waited. He felt something hanging in the air—something Whitney held in his hands, he could only wait for Whitney to let go, or tighten the hold. It felt like a thunderstorm waiting to break and finally Whitney turned to him, “Race you to the water” and he stripped off his shirt, kicked off shoes and dropped his pants. He pulled off his shorts and stood naked and smiling, waiting for Clark.
He was gold all over, and perfect and Clark felt huge and clumsy and stupid and scared, but he began to take off his clothes, stripping slowly until at last he was naked and embarrassed, arms around his chest and curled slightly into himself. Whit was just staring, so Clark ran down the short dock there, and leaped into the lake.
Whit whooped and hollered and ran after him, dousing Clark when he hit the water hard, his arms and legs drawn in like a ball.
Clark coughed water and Whitney surfaced right in front of him, grabbed Clark’s neck and kissed him hard, roughly biting his lips and tongue. Clark yelped and tried to draw back. This was so different from the first kiss—he was a little scared by it, but Whitney wouldn’t let him move, he attacked his mouth again and again, jabbing his tongue in, sucking his lip between his teeth and pulling, chewing on it, and Clark was breathing loud and hard. He felt Whitney’s penis bump his leg under the water and he gasped and jumped. Whit groaned and pressed against Clark.
“Kiss me back, Clark, come on,” and he ran his hand over Clark’s penis, gripped it, his hand was so hot. Clark swept both of his hands out of the water, showering their faces--grabbed Whit’s head desperately, and kissed him back, it was wild, frantic, too fast, too hard, too messy, too much teeth and too much tongue and Whitney groaned into his mouth and Clark felt him, hotter than the water, against his leg, and felt him moving against him, every time his teeth nipped Whit’s lip, he felt his penis jerk against him—he broke away and Whit gasped, grinned…and pumped his hand on Clark, “Like that do you, can you feel that, I like it. Go ahead Clark, tell me what you like, it’s just you and me and you can say what you want…I’ll tell you what I want.”
Whit sounded so loud, was he *hearing* him or was it just—he felt so sensitive all over…
“I want to kiss you Clark, kiss you all over, start with your nipples and work my way to your cock,” and he pinched and rolled his fingers over them and Clark cried out—the pleasure he felt was close to pain, it made him jerk forward and Whitney did it again and he begged him to please-- do it again.
“Okay,” he said and used his mouth. Clark thought he heard his heart slam against his breastbone, he shook from head to toe—and Whitney stopped. “No! I – I mean, please!”
“Sit up on the dock Clark, go ahead”
Clark grabbed the edge of the dock and pulled himself out of the water, and flipped so he was sitting, his legs dangling and—he looked down at himself, oh, geez, he was hard, his penis curved over his leg, it twitched as he looked. Whitney licked his lips and Clark twitched again.
“What—what do you want me to do?” he asked, and his voice nearly failed him. Just sit, he was commanded, and then his penis was on fire, wet fire, it was so shocking, so good so unbelievable, he dropped back on his elbows and his head fell back, he moaned loud, long, choking when Whitney began to bob his head up and down on him, god, god, god, oh—oh—oh—his hips rose into the air, he could feel the muscles of his butt and his thighs tense, tighter and tighter and then liquid fire ran down his back and his body tried to bend in impossible ways as he came in Whitney’s mouth. He dropped down, his head cracking against the wooden boards.
“Clark! You okay?” Whitney looked panicked for a moment until Clark groaned out a shaky yes.
He grinned then and pulled himself up on the dock to lay on Clark. He began to pump his hips slowly against Clark, staring in his eyes, grinning and Clark felt himself getting hard again. Whit raised an eyebrow and murmured, “Jackpot, hunh!” and picked up the pace, grinding into Clark’s belly, trapping both their cocks between them. Clark watched Whitney’s face change, the sly smile always on his lips faded away slowly, he clenched his teeth, he gasped a little and bit his lip, Clark shifted so that they touched more and Whitney cried out softly and closed his eyes, his head dropped and his hair swept across Clark’s chest and Clark grunted and came again, the heat flowing between them made Whitney’s eyes fly open, “Jesus…Clark?” He jerked. “Oh god.” Shivered and spilled on Clark’s stomach, slid in their come and yelled though his orgasm, before collapsing on an exhausted Clark.
“That was a show and a half,” he muttered against Clark’s chest.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing, nothing—we should get back in the water though.”
“Oh—okay”, Clark yawned and stood when Whitney rolled off of him.
“Turn around.” Whit said, “I think I saw something on your back.”
“Okay,” Clark said and turned. He ran his hand through the come on his belly and groin, curious, feeling the texture, wondering if he could tell whose was whose. He heard the splash of Whit hitting the water behind him and curiosity over came fear, he licked at his wet hand, a quick lap of the tongue against his sticky fingers. The taste was—not nasty, not what he expected, salty and citrus and a faint taste of…of mushrooms, he thought. And popped a finger in his mouth to suck it clean.
“God, Clark, you’re going to kill me.” he heard, and whirled around to see Whitney staring at him. Clark blushed and hurriedly leaped back into the water.
Whit floated over to him and wrapped his legs around his waist. He wound his arms around Clark’s neck and said in a deep husky voice, “I was right. I knew you’d taste like lemon drops. I’ve never--”he stopped and laughed. “Well. Never mind.”
And guess what's coming next... anyone...anyone? If you guess right there'll be a little prize! *applies lipbalm and puckers up*
Stay tuned!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
That's my question
2/11/05 07:57 am (UTC)*fans self*
*mwah*
Re: That's my question
2/11/05 08:06 am (UTC)