|Genre: New Professionals (Sam/Chris)
Title: ...who's the kinkiest one of all?
Series: Yes - the second in a series of erotic vignettes, the Billet Doux
series, sequel to Mirror, Mirror on the Floor....
Author: Alyse (email@example.com)
Archive: CI5 Operational Control
( http://easyweb.easynet.co.uk/~alys4/newprof), Britslash
Spoilers/Warnings: No spoilers. Just smut. And (gosh!) no angst :) Honest.
Summary: It's Sam's birthday and Chris has a rather unusual present for him.
Feedback: Yes please, to firstname.lastname@example.org.
welcome, flames will be used to melt chocolate, and we all know what I'll
do with that :)
Disclaimers: They belong to Brain Clements and David Wickes
Productions. They don't belong to me - if they did we all know what they'd
be doing. I don't make any money from this. I have nothing but my own
warped imagination and therefore I'm not worth suing. :)
Kudos: Many thanks to my excellent beta Lou, and to Brenda for telling me
it's not squicky :).
Who's the Kinkiest One of All?
Sam settled back into his seat, smiling slightly and resting the wineglass
he was holding on the arm of the chair. He looked relaxed and happy, at
ease for the first time in weeks. It had been a difficult case they'd been
working on, reflected Chris, complicated and not particularly pleasant, so
it was wonderful to see his lover looking so stress-free, enjoying a joke
with one of their colleagues.
Their case had only been wrapped up the day before, with Sam completing the
paperwork with his normal efficiency late the previous night. Or early
this morning, depending on how you wanted to look at it. For once, Chris
had been more than happy to help, much as he loathed that part of their
job. It meant that they could have today and tomorrow off, which was
important; maybe more important to Chris than to Sam, but important
It was Sam's birthday tomorrow. His thirtieth birthday to be precise. The
big three-oh. The start of a new decade, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
He'd tried teasing Sam about it, but his partner wasn't rising to the
bait. Instead, he'd given Chris a supercilious little smile and asked him
how it felt to be a 'toy-boy'. Since there wasn't really a response to
that, at least not one that was printable, Chris had subsided less than
gracefully, muttering darkly about middle-aged men. He'd been looking
forward to tormenting his partner and lover for the next fourteen months
until he also turned thirty. Somehow it wasn't as much fun if Sam wasn't
going to be touchy about it. In fact, his lover didn't seem at all
concerned about growing older.
For example, it had been Chris who'd insisted on this little get together
this evening. For a short while he'd considered springing a surprise party
on his partner before rather sensibly deciding that a heavily armed CI5
agent with cat-like reflexes and lots of people jumping out at him yelling
'Surprise!' didn't really mix. So he'd brought the subject up with
Sam. He'd rather grandly stated that turning thirty was a milestone that
should be celebrated, preferably with copious amounts of alcohol. His
lover had replied that he wasn't really bothered and a quiet night in would
do him fine. Chris had pointed out that if nothing else it was a
celebration of living another year, which in their line of business was
definitely worth a party. When that also didn't work, he pouted. And so
Sam had a party.
He also had the last word, pointing out to Chris that since his birthday
came later than Sam's that gave Sam plenty of time to plan his
revenge. Anything Chris perpetrated would be revisited on his head tenfold.
Chris merely blinked innocently and cancelled the stripper. And the lady
jumping out of the cake. On further reflection he also cancelled the
Tarzan-o-gram, the 'pregnant ex-girlfriend' and the marching band. He also
reconsidered his birthday present to Sam, but then he'd been doing that a
lot anyway. He compromised, and got Sam a sensible present as well. What
the hell, if Sam didn't like his original gift he could always use it as a
rather unusual paperweight.
And it had turned out to be a good party, a great one in fact. A small,
select group of people, many of them fellow CI5 agents, a lot of alcohol
and, dear to Chris' heart, food. Backup had even provided a birthday cake;
although the fact that it was chocolate made Chris suspect that it was more
for his benefit than Sam's. They'd both looked at it a little suspiciously
until she'd reassured them she hadn't baked it, and then Chris had tucked
in with glee.
Sam seemed to be having fun tonight, and that was the point after all. It
wasn't often that they got a chance to relax totally, knowing that they
weren't going to be called into work the following day, and Chris intended
to make the most of it. He wasn't going to get drunk, however. He had
plans for later tonight, and they didn't involve alcohol.
Finally it was present opening time. As expected, both Backup and Spencer
had bought 'sensible' presents - Backup giving his lover a book of fine art
and Spencer providing a bottle of wine that had Sam raising his eyebrows in
appreciation. Thankfully there were some other, less sensible
presents. To go with the wine Rebecca had bought a corkscrew in the shape
of a scorpion, and that raised a laugh out of Sam, and a few cracks from
their colleagues about cases with 'a sting in the tail', and their recent
Woods case. Richards had gone one further, buying Sam an illustrated copy
of the Karma Sutra and joking that with Sam's recent lack of dates he
needed all the advice in the bedroom he could get. Rather good-naturedly
Sam had quipped back that he'd lay odds that he'd gotten laid more recently
than Richards himself. Since Chris was intimately aware of just when Sam
had gotten laid last, it was one bet he would have had no problems backing.
There was one awkward moment when Backup tried to hand Sam Chris'
'unofficial' birthday present, but Chris intercepted it, muttering
something about it being worse than Richards' offering, and replaced it
with the one that could be opened in public, a CD boxed set of Sam's
favourite arias. Tucked into the sleeve was a ticket to a season of four
productions. As Sam thanked him, his pleasure at the gift clear in his
face and his voice, Chris rather glumly reflected that Sam would be lucky
to see any of them, never mind all four. Still, he couldn't begrudge Sam
the hope. It was worth the expense just to see Sam's face light up at the
gift. Even Backup commented that it was a thoughtful present; although
Chris was convinced she'd be revising her current high opinion of him if
she'd managed to get Sam to open up his other gift in public.
Around two am the party began to wind up, those on duty the next day being
the first to leave, followed shortly by the other agents lucky enough to be
on stand-by or even, like Sam and Chris, to have the following day
off. Richards was the last to leave, thrown amicably out by Chris when
he'd had enough of the garrulous Englishman. He liked Richards well
enough, but he *really* wanted to be alone with Sam.
When he returned from pouring Richards into a convenient black cab, Sam had
put one of the CDs on to play, the volume turned down low, and the soft
sounds of 'Che Gelida Manina' from La Boheme drifted from the
speakers. Sam had another glass of wine in his hand, and was eyeing up the
debris from the party with a jaundiced eye.
"Leave it," requested Chris softly. Sam turned his head to look at him,
his mouth quirking upwards slightly as he acknowledged his own flaw.
"Ah, but I can't, can I?"
"Yes you can," replied Chris briskly. "I'll clean up tomorrow..." Sam's
mouth quirked even more at that. "No snide remarks about my flat please,"
Chris added. "Consider it another birthday present if you like."
Sam looked around again, his expression hesitant. "Go on," chided his
lover. "If it's bothering you, why don't you just go through to the
bedroom where you can't see it, and I'll lock up."
"Out of sight, out of mind?" queried Sam, his amusement clear in the tone
of his voice.
"Exactly," beamed the American. "Go on. I'll be there in a minute."
He collected his other present on his way back, and appropriated a half
full bottle of wine and a clean glass. Not something he normally drank,
but he felt as though he should make an effort since it was a special
occasion. Besides, wine felt right to go with the mood he was trying to
create. A bottle of beer felt wrong somehow.
Sam was reclining on the bed when he finally made it back to the bedroom,
his face a little thoughtful.
"Penny for 'em?" asked Chris. Sam smiled softly.
"It was a good night," he replied. "Thank you."
Chris settled himself on the end of the bed, facing Sam, and leant forward
to top up his partner's glass.
Sam took a sip of his wine, and sighed contentedly. "Talking of other
birthday presents..." he began.
Chris put on his best 'innocent' look. "Were we?"
Sam gave him a hard look. "You. Cleaning up. Birthday present."
"Ah." Chris smirked to himself as Sam rolled his eyes, already wise to him.
"Are you going to tell me what's in that box, or not?"
Another sigh. "That rather gaudily wrapped one you're hiding behind your
back. The one apparently not fit for public consumption."
Now that it was time to hand it over, Chris found all of his doubts about
the gift flooding back. What if Sam thought that it wasn't just the
wrapping that was gaudy? What if he thought the gift itself was tacky in
the extreme? He knew his partner well enough to know that if Sam were
disappointed he'd do his level best to hide it, but now that it came to the
crunch he wasn't sure he could go through with it. Sam, however, was
looking at him expectantly and it was too late to back out now. Besides,
hadn't they already had this conversation?
Slightly nervously, Chris handed over the present. Sam must have sensed
his hesitation, because rather than ripping the paper off he unwrapped it
slowly and carefully, sliding his fingers underneath the flap and easing
the paper apart. Chris loved his partner's hands, loved watching
them. They were graceful and strong at the same time, handling delicate
crystal ware and heavy weaponry with the same elegant precision. And when
those hands touched him... Chris shivered slightly in remembrance.
Once removed, the paper was folded neatly and set to one side out of the
way. The box was much less gaudy than the paper it had been wrapped
in. Originally Chris had intended to simply hand Sam the box, but given
the number of curious CI5 agents there would be here tonight he could
guarantee that one of them would open it up to take a peek. At least the
fact that it was wrapped might delay his colleagues long enough for their
conscience to kick in. Assuming that any of them had consciences.
Sam was easing the lid off now, rocking it from side to side gingerly to
loosen it. He looked as though he was a little afraid that it would blow
up in his face, whereas if it blew up in anyone's face, it would be
Chris'. Sam caught him looking and gave him a wry smile.
"There's nothing in here that's going to bite, is there?" he asked,
stopping to give Chris time to answer.
"No," replied Chris with a smile, although some vague thought about
'trouser snakes' drifted through his mind.
Sam returned the smile, and finally lifted the lid off. The moment of
truth had arrived.
For a long time Sam just stared into the box, and then his mouth curled up
slightly in a smile. "Well," he said, amusement clear in his voice. "I'm
not entirely sure what the etiquette is when someone gives you one of
these. 'Thank you' just doesn't seem to cover it."
Well, Chris supposed, amusement was better than horror, but it still wasn't
quite the reaction he'd been hoping for. Sam was examining his present
more closely, running his fingers over it in a way that had Chris shifting
slightly uncomfortably as his trousers suddenly seemed too tight.
"It's very... realistic..." offered Sam, that same glint of amusement in
his eyes. "I can see why you didn't want Backup seeing this one."
"Uh huh," replied his lover intelligently.
"Very, very realistic."
"In fact," added Sam, frowning slightly as he leant in to take a closer
look. "It's also very familiar." Chris just looked at him as Sam removed
the item from the box and hefted it in his hand, examining it
closely. "Very, *very* familiar," the Englishman emphasised.
"Really?" Chris enquired.
"I should know, Chris," Sam stated. "I've spent a great deal of time
examining the original."
Chris grinned at him, unable to resist a comeback. "Glad to know that your
memory isn't impaired by your advancing age."
Sam cocked one eyebrow at him. "Is this some suggestion that my age will
affect my sexual prowess by any chance?"
"God no," his lover returned with a laugh. "I have no complaints in that
department." He continued to grin wickedly at his partner. "And if that
was the case, wouldn't it be you giving me something similar? To compensate?"
Sam grinned back at him, enjoying their repartee. "So, is this you
worrying that your advancing age will affect your sexual prowess and
"Hah hah. Come over here and I'll show you just how little my 'sexual
prowess' has been affected!"
"Now there's an offer that's difficult to refuse..."
Sam leant in for a very long, satisfying kiss. When they separated, his
partner's face was flushed slightly, and Chris didn't think it had anything
to do with the wine. He sat back on the bed with a rather smug look.
Sam turned his attention to the gift again, once more running his fingers
over it in a way that raised Chris' blood pressure. He was almost certain
that his lover wasn't aware of the effect his gentle stroking motions were
having on him. Almost. "So," asked the Englishman. "Are you going to
tell me how you did this?"
Chris grinned reminiscently. "You know those TV shows where all the actors
are in masks? Star Trek and Buffy and the like?"
"Not personally, no."
"Well, to make those masks they first make a mould of the actor's face..."
"And you made a mould of..."
"Bingo! Nice deductive reasoning, Curtis." Chris took a big mouthful of
red wine, and sat back against the footboard of the bed, grinning at his lover.
Sam started to laugh. "I'm sorry," he gasped at Chris' offended look. "I
just have the image of you in the bathroom applying plaster of Paris..."
Chris scowled good-naturedly at him. "It wasn't plaster of Paris," he
explained. "And while you can get home moulding kits apparently, I didn't..."
Sam's chuckling trailed off and he looked at the American, obviously
Chris smirked at him. "I went professional as it were."
"You actually let someone else touch..."
Sam scowled. "You can't," he stated baldly. "It's mine."
It was Chris' turn to raise one eyebrow in his lover's direction, rather
enjoying the way that Sam squirmed, a little embarrassed at his
outburst. "Possessive much?" he asked mildly, although to be fair he
didn't really mind. In fact, the thought of Curtis being a little jealous
sent a small surge of warmth through him. Sam's scowl deepened for a
moment, before he had the grace to flush slightly and look
away. "Besides," continued Chris, covering the awkward moment. "That
wasn't the difficult bit..."
"Oh?" asked Sam, concentrating on his glass as his blush receded. "Am I
allowed to ask?"
"You try staying hard for an hour while someone covers your... er...
equipment with something cold and gloopy."
That forced another laugh out of Sam, his former awkwardness forgotten in
his merriment. Chris watched him with an indulgent smile. "The things I
do for you," he muttered, more to add to the effect than to complain. Sam
just laughed harder.
Eventually, he subsided into hiccupping giggles, and leant back against the
headboard, regarding Chris warmly, a small smile playing around the corners
of his mouth. "Thank you," he said, his tone a little more intense. Chris
returned the smile, taking a swallow of his wine and watching Sam do the
same. Sam's glass was heading towards empty again, and he leant forward to
refill it, catching Sam's hand in his own to steady the glass and stroking
his thumb lightly over the back of it as he poured.
When he moved back, Sam's eyes were even warmer. "So how did you then?"
the Englishman asked, his voice husky.
"Stay hard for an hour?"
Chris treated him to a long, slow smile. "Easy," he replied, his own voice
a little guttural. "I just thought about what I was going to do to you
with the finished product."
There was a sudden surge of heat in Sam's eyes. His partner placed his
glass on the bedside table, his hand shaking slightly. "Oh?" he asked
Chris allowed some of his own arousal to come through in his voice. "Oh
yes," he growled. Sam swallowed convulsively, settling himself more
comfortably, bending one knee up in a way that was both blatantly inviting
and curiously innocent at the same time. Chris fought down his instinctive
reaction to the move, somehow knowing that this would be better taken
slowly and savoured rather than rushed.
"Would you care to elaborate?" His partner's voice was shaking ever so
slightly, much as his hand had been. Chris gave him a wolfish smile,
watching as his lover's eyes dilated, taking on a sheen of arousal. This
time Sam's whole body shivered.
"Do you remember what our instructors told us during our CI5 induction?"
Sam swallowed again. "What was that?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
Chris allowed his smile to deepen, his eyes hungry. "You can talk about
things until you're blue in the face, but it's no substitution for experience."
"Ah," replied Sam, a smile playing around the corners of his
mouth. "You're talking about a practical demonstration, then?"
"You do realise that the last time they told me that they threw me out of a
bloody plane, don't you?"
Chris grinned at him. "This will be much more fun," he replied
huskily. Sam's breath caught in his throat.
"Promise?" he asked unsteadily.
"Oh yes," breathed Chris, giving him another of those bone-melting smiles,
dimples in full effect. He knew his lover had no defence against those
dimples when they were correctly deployed. "Promise..."
Sam licked suddenly dry lips. "Well, then," he said. "I'll place myself
in your hands." The words sent another spike of desire through the American.
"Good," he growled. "Get naked."
For a second he thought his partner would protest, not necessarily at the
request, but perhaps at the way in which it had been phrased. He had,
after all, let his libido get away with him. But the Englishman surprised
him. After briefly registering his displeasure with one raised eyebrow, he
proceeded to comply with the order, moving one hand up to the fastenings of
his red shirt.
Each button was sensuously slipped out of the buttonhole, the movements
slow and erotic. Chris' mind slipped back to the last time Sam had
stripped for him, in front of the mirror in this very room. That time, Sam
hadn't made a production of it, undressing much as he normally did, just a
little more slowly. This time, however, Sam milked the moment for all it
was worth, deliberately teasing Chris. The American growled low in his
throat, his impatience obvious, but that merely made Sam smile knowingly,
his hand continuing to move at the same slow, tantalising pace, his eyes
never leaving Chris' face.
It was a side of Sam he'd rarely seen before, a playful, sensual Sam. Gone
was the cool, controlled CI5 agent, and in his place an incubus, a purely
sexual and sensual creature toying with his lover and the sight made Chris'
breath catch in his throat. He'd always known that his lover was
attractive, god knows his first reaction on meeting the man had been
physical, but this...
Sam reached the end of his buttons, and slowly eased the shirt apart with a
seductiveness that a Las Vegas showgirl would have been proud of. Chris
tried to remember to breathe. Breathing was good. Breathing meant
remaining conscious. Now Sam was slipping the shirt off his shoulders and
down his arms, bringing his wrists up, one at a time, to unfasten the cuffs
with his teeth when the shirt got caught around his hands. He never broke
eye contact with Chris.
Chris battled for control, reminding himself over and over again about the
plan. The plan was not to pounce on Sam, rip the rest of his clothes off
and then fuck him through the mattress. The plan was to take this slowly,
savour the experience, drive Sam wild with desire and past the point of
endurance, and *then* fuck him through the mattress.
Sam's shirt was tossed carelessly to one side, and the Englishman reached
down to pull his socks off, his shoes long since discarded. Since there
wasn't really a way to remove socks seductively, Sam didn't even
try. Instead they joined his shirt on the floor and the agent moved
straight on to his trousers. He left his hand hesitating over the button
on his khakis for a long moment, until Chris once again growled
impatiently, deep in his throat. That brought a slight smile to Sam's
face, and he complied with the unspoken demand, sliding his fingers
underneath the button and flicking it through the buttonhole. He was
enjoying this far too much, Chris decided, as Sam's fingers moved slowly to
the zip and eased it down.
The Englishman continued to torment his lover, leisurely easing his khakis
down his legs, before kicking them off onto the floor, to join the rest of
his clothes, before reclining back on the bed, clad only in his silk
boxers. Chris raised an eyebrow at him, which was returned with a small,
slightly smug smile. Two could play at that game, he decided as he leant
forward to gently run one hand up his lover's leg. There was a sudden
sharp intake of breath from Sam, and he glanced up to catch sight of the
sudden flare of heat in his lover's eyes as Sam parted his thighs to allow
He followed the path of his hand up Sam's body, finally reaching the edge
of Sam's boxers and sliding one finger underneath to stroke along the top
of Sam's thigh. He lightly caressed the crease where Sam's leg met his
torso, being careful not to touch his lover's erection. Sam swallowed
heavily, his heart pounding in his chest as Chris leant over him, his
breath caressing his cheek. "These too..." Chris whispered in his
ear. Sam made some unintelligible noise, and slipped his hands into the
top of his shorts, easing them down over his erection and then off. They
were also tossed carelessly onto the floor, as Chris sat back on his heels
and surveyed his lover's body approvingly.
"Very nice," he said, ignoring Sam's sudden flush of embarrassment. His
lover didn't take compliments about his appearance well, which was odd
considering how much he spent on clothes. Perversely, Chris took pleasure
in complimenting him as often as possible, especially when he wanted to
keep the other man a little off balance. It was a game they played.
It didn't take long, however, for Sam to regain his equilibrium, and his
partner gave him another slight smile, nodding towards Chris. "Aren't you
going to get undressed?" Chris gave him a long, even look, before
returning the smile.
"No," he said. At Sam's quizzical look, he elaborated. "I was kinda
hoping you'd do the honours."
Sam's smile widened slightly, and he sat up onto his heels, leaning forward
to catch Chris' face in his hands, his thumbs stroking lightly over Chris'
cheeks as he kissed him. The kiss started off gently and then deepened
until Sam was almost devouring the American's mouth. When he finally
pulled back, they were both breathing heavily.
"That would be a 'yes' then?" gasped Chris. Sam grinned wolfishly at him
before leaning in for another kiss. This time, his fingers were as busy as
his mouth, tearing at the buttons on Chris' black shirt and ghosting across
the skin this revealed. The shirt sailed over Chris' head to land in a
heap somewhere on the floor behind him. Sam pulled back long enough to
place one hand in the centre of Chris' chest, pushing hard and knocking
Chris onto his back so that he could start to strip off his partner's
trousers. One shoe landed on top of the chest of drawers. The other
vanished over Chris' head, thrown haphazardly in the same direction as his
Chris was laughing by the time Sam's hands started to fumble at his
belt. Sam pulled back and gave him a mock offended look, the effect
spoiled by the smile hovering around the corners of his mouth.
"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," Chris explained, still
chuckling. Sam sat back, straddling his lover.
"Oh?" he asked, still with that slight smile. "What did you have in mind?"
Chris raised one hand and let it drift down the contours of his partner's
chest. "This," he said, placing one foot firmly on the covers and using
the leverage to flip the pair of them over.
They wrestled for a few minutes, both of them jockeying for
control. Eventually, Chris gained the upper hand, pinning Sam to the bed
with his weight. Sam gave in, chuckling, and contented himself with
running his hands up and down his lover's bare back. Chris smiled down at
him, a surge of affection for the other man running through him. He leant
down to place a gentle kiss on his partner's lips, pulling back to ask, "Do
you trust me?"
Sam looked confused for a moment. "Of course," he replied softly, although
his eyes were a little doubtful.
"Then let go," the American breathed. Sam's eyes widened for a moment, and
he searched his lover's face to make sure he understood correctly. He must
have found what he was looking for, because he nodded briefly and relaxed,
allowing his hands to fall away from Chris' body.
Chris sighed softly, accepting the submission for what it was. Trust
didn't come easily to Sam, and he knew that he was one of the few people
that Sam would permit to see the man he kept hidden behind the
barriers. More than once, he'd considered it a precious gift, and wasn't
one he ever intended to spurn. He kissed Sam once more, before rising
gracefully to his feet and stripping off his remaining clothes.
Sam remained lying supine on the bed, observing his every move
intently. He thought that there might be some trepidation mixed in with
the love and desire with which the Englishman was watching him, but he
couldn't be sure. Sam didn't give much away, after all. If there was, he
would just have to make sure that his lover didn't regret handing control
over to him, even temporarily. His partner was big on control, he knew,
which made this willingness to trust him all the more special.
When he was also naked, he lay down on the bed next to Sam, pulling the
other agent towards him for a soul-searing kiss. He spent a long time
exploring the other man's mouth, mapping every spot with his tongue while
their bodies pressed together urgently. One hand cupped Sam's face,
holding him still while he plundered the other man's mouth; the other slid
underneath his lover's back, coming to rest around Sam's waist and pulling
Sam's body hard against him.
He only broke the kiss when the need for oxygen forced him to. For an
instant, he pressed his forehead against Sam's, breathing raggedly as he
fought to control his baser instincts, and then he leant in again, pressing
light kisses against Sam's lips and face. He began to move down Sam's
body, pressing kisses against the Englishman's throat, dipping his tongue
into the hollow at the base of Sam's neck and lapping at the sweat
collecting there. San was panting heavily beneath him, the sound turning
to soft moans as he began to nip and suck his way along Sam's collarbone.
He continued onwards to Sam's chest, laving the skin along the breastbone
with long broad strokes of his tongue, painting Sam's body with his
mouth. Sam's nipples were next to receive his attention. He sucked and
nibbled them to hard, aching points, soothing the sharper nips with his
tongue as Sam writhed and gasped beneath him.
When Sam was reduced to mindless whimpering by his onslaught, he renewed
his travels along Sam's body, enjoying the sound of his lover's
pleasure. His agile tongue flicked in and out of Sam's navel, driving a
strangled gasp out of his partner. He left a passion mark on Sam's hipbone
he sucked so hard on the flesh there. His lover hissed at the sharp,
sudden sting, the sound changing into a long, low moan as Chris soothed the
area with gentle kisses.
Chris avoided his lover's erection completely, instead turning his
attention to Sam's legs, moving down them at the same steady pace, refusing
to be rushed. He explored every inch of his partner's body, although by
now he was intimately familiar with it. It was a special occasion and
deserved special attention. Each of Sam's toes was sucked into his mouth,
the soles of his feet were stroked gently, the inside of his thighs nibbled
and sucked. By the time that he returned to Sam's straining cock, the
Englishman looked ready to explode. Chris took pity on him briefly,
running his tongue along the underside of Sam's erection, the sensation
causing his lover to arch off the bed, a sharp cry falling from his lips.
Chris released him, moving swiftly to the bedside drawer to retrieve the
lubricant and condoms. He leant down to whisper in Sam's ear, his voice
hoarse with need. "I want to fuck you..."
Sam nodded jerkily, his eyes staying closed. For a second Chris was
tempted, so tempted, to just take him there and then, his own arousal
threatening to take over. But he'd planned this too long, made too many
preparations to weaken now. He contented himself with pressing another
passionate kiss against his lover's mouth, slipping the tip of his tongue
in to stroke along Sam's before moving down towards his goal again,
snagging Sam's present from its hiding place in a fold of the bedding on
He didn't torment his lover any further, heading straight for Sam's
erection and snaking his tongue along the length of it. His hands were
busy opening the tube of lubricant and covering his fingers with it. He
sucked Sam's cock into his mouth at the same time as he began to circle his
lover's anus with the tip of his finger. When Sam bucked up into his
mouth, driven wild by the sensation, Chris used the momentum to slide his
finger into his partner's body. That forced a low moan from the
Englishman. When Chris peered up Sam's body, his lover's eyes were closed,
his face and chest covered in a light sheen of sweat.
He concentrated on loosening his partner, one finger becoming two becoming
three. All the time he kept up the steady, sucking pressure on Sam's
penis, slowly driving his lover insane. Sam was reduced to a quivering
mass of nerve endings by the time he was ready to move to the next stage.
He pulled his fingers from Sam's body, blocking out Sam's soft sound of
loss, and began to cover the faux phallus with lubricant. He released
Sam's penis, letting it fall from his lips, so that he could concentrate on
what he was doing.
"Sam..." he whispered when he was ready. His lover's eyelids fluttered
open and Sam's dazed green eyes finally met his. He lowered his head to
lap at the leaking tip of Sam's erection as he gently eased the toy into
his lover's tight heat. Sam whimpered again, his hands clutching at the
bedclothes convulsively and his eyes drifting shut once more.
"I had a threesome once," he said, keeping his voice low and soft. Sam
didn't appear to be listening, lost in the throes of his own passion, but
he was sure that the other man heard. He licked slowly up the length of
Sam's cock, causing the other man to twist and moan beneath him, the
motions driving the toy deeper into Sam's body. "A friend of mine and his
Sam was still twisting beneath him, his body slick with sweat, but his
lover's eyes were now open, glazed but fixed on his face. There was no
comprehension there, just passion, but Chris would swear that Sam could
hear every word he said. "And he was in me, while she did just what I'm
doing..." To emphasise his words, he sucked Sam's cock into his mouth
again, his tongue playing around the corona, driving yet another strangled
moan from his lover.
"I'm too selfish to share you, Sammy," he whispered when he finally
released the other man. "But I wanted you to know how that felt... How
good that felt... Me in you and around you, taking you over the edge." He
swirled his tongue around the head of Sam's penis again, sliding it into
the slit, and Sam made a sound half way between a gasp and a sob.
"I just wanted you to know how good that felt, baby..."
He stopped talking, concentrating on driving Sam wild, bringing him to the
edge of orgasm before gentling him back down again and then starting all
over again. His mouth moved constantly on Sam, sliding up and down him,
his tongue caressing, sucking and nibbling while he continued to move the
toy in and out of his lover, angling it to strike Sam's prostate on every
The sweat was now pouring off his lover, Sam almost incoherent with lust
and arousal. His body twisted beneath Chris', Chris having to use his
weight to pin Sam to the bed as Sam bucked into the sensations, his
movements either driving him further down Chris' throat or driving the toy
further into him. Chris wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up
without giving into his own need, or even how long before the pleasure he
was giving Sam turned into the pain of satisfaction too long delayed. Sam
settled the question for him.
"Please..." the Englishman whispered over and over again, his eyes closed
and his whole body shaking. "Please..."
To draw it out any longer would be cruel, and that was never his
intention. He gave up on subtlety, on finesse. Instead he used the fake
phallus to drive a pounding rhythm into his lover's body while he
deep-throated him, his throat muscles tightening around Sam's penis,
milking his orgasm from him.
Sam screamed, literally screamed, as he came, flooding Chris' mouth with
his fluid, his entire body arching off the mattress. Chris continued to
suckle at him until the shudders running through Sam's body eased off, and
then he pulled the toy from Sam's body and released him. He scrabbled at
the box of condoms, emptying several out in his haste and grabbing one to
tear off the packaging with his teeth. With shaking hands he rolled it
over himself, applying lubricant with urgent fingers.
He pushed Sam's knees up to his chest, spreading the other man for his
entry. Sliding into Sam was easy, the faux phallus replaced by the real
thing before Sam's body had had time to adjust to the former's
absence. Sam hissed slightly at his entrance, his eyes flying open to meet
Chris', still dazed, and for a second Chris thought he'd gone too far,
drawn it out too long and Sam was too sore for this, but then Sam's hands
were urgently pulling at his head, dragging his face down for a kiss as he
slid his legs apart to cradle Chris' body.
It didn't take long, Chris' desire already honed almost to breaking point
by the eroticism of what he had done to Sam. All it took to drive him over
the edge was a few deep, hard thrusts and Sam whispering nonsensical love
words in his ear. The sound of Sam's "Come for me, love. Please..."
accompanied his fall into bliss, his own cry muffled as he buried his face
in Sam's neck and Sam ran shaking fingers through his hair.
He lay in Sam's arms until the thundering of his heart eased somewhat, and
he was capable of conscious thought once more. Sam seemed little better,
his eyes closed and his own breathing harsh and unsteady. His lover's
hand, however, stroked lightly up and down his back as his own breathing
edged towards a more normal rate, although he would lay odds that it wasn't
a conscious action on Sam's part.
Eventually, he recovered enough to ease out of Sam's body and roll off the
other man onto his back. He found enough energy to strip off the used
condom and dispose of it and gather up the scattered unused condoms and
lubricant and shove them haphazardly into the bedside drawer. He also used
the wipes they kept in there to clean himself up, too drained to make it to
the bathroom. Then he collapsed back onto the bed, reaching out and
tugging at Sam's arm until Sam rolled over and rested his head on Chris'
shoulder. "Okay?" he asked without opening his eyes. Sam made some sort
of affirmative noise from the region of his armpit, snuggling in deeper,
his breathing starting to deepen as he drifted towards sleep.
"Good. Happy birthday." He pressed a soft kiss against the top of Sam's head.
Sam made a contented little sound and wriggled closer. After a moment he
raised his head slightly and cracked one eye open to peer at Chris. "Very
good," he reiterated, and then he hesitated.
"But..." prompted Chris gently, trying not to be disappointed.
Sam paused for a moment longer, looking a little indecisive. "Would you
think me very soppy if I told you that the replica was very nice... very,
very nice... but that it's no patch on the original?"
Chris gave the question due consideration. "Yes," he said.
Sam sighed, although not unhappily. "That's what I thought," he murmured
sleepily. "I won't then."
"Too late," stated Chris a little smugly. "I already know you're soppy..."
Sam gave a little snort, his head already nestling back on Chris'
chest. "You do realise," he mumbled, "that if that gets out I'll have no
choice but to shoot you?"
Chris chuckled. "I'll bear that in mind," he replied. "I know what a good
shot you are."
"Hmm. And don't forget it," his lover yawned.
"Sam..." Chris asked, his own voice a little hesitant as his doubts came
flooding back. "It was okay, wasn't it?"
Sam raised his head again, and peered at him, frowning slightly. "Of
course it was," he said softly, and then he smiled. "I think they heard me
in the next street," he said wryly.
"I think they heard you in the next borough," retorted Chris.
"And you doubt I enjoyed it?"
Chris shrugged slightly. For a long moment Sam stared at him, and then the
Englishman's mouth curled up in a reluctant smile. "It was very, very
good, love," he murmured. "But there is nothing in this world that feels
as good as you coming inside me, or me coming inside you. And yes," he
added, slumping back down onto Chris' chest. "I know I'm 'soppy' so give
it a rest."
Chris chuckled softly, ruffling Sam's hair with one affectionate hand but
foregoing any further teasing. In fact, although he would have died before
he let his partner know it, he was touched by Sam's admission.
They settled into a companionable silence, drifting towards sleep, until...
"So," murmured Sam. "A threesome, eh?"