thewordofweb | [Night Two]

[Night Two]

I cannot believe he fucking heckled me.

...That's about the only thing that comes to mind as I sit there with the brush and shove it through the long hair, still figuring out how I'm going about this. This, this being whatever attachments have fused and grown firmer in our time here and through yesterday (however you explain that) and this morning (I'm not sure if we can explain that away, given our sobriety) and now I'm standing at the door we share in a strapless red number that cuts down to my ankles and my bare feet press against the wooden floor.

There is a very set plan about this and I might have even stolen some products for the night, pressing pink to lips and smudges to eyes in a simplistic way the likes that Oscar Wilde would have very much approved of (it's really almost as if this place and these events would have fit so perfectly in his novels). So there I am, with a plan, and with a single knock on Joe's door, it's not going to reverse, now.

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Joe grins, squeezing Web's fingers and then, slowly, he lefts Web's hand and kisses the base of Web's thumb, sucking lightly on warm skin.

"I thought spanking was all you did at those fancy schools," he teases, but his touch his gentle, free hand smoothing up Web's thigh, his hips lifting just a little.

And suddenly, here we are again, as if the roadmap had just been hiding this inevitability. My breath catches as I'm suddenly caught up in him once more and I stare down and widen my knees' stance around his waist, rocking the once to try and coax friction. "I was never bad enough to deserve a spanking, but I bet you...oh, I bet you could have earned a dozen without even blinking."

Then friction's definitely there, with Joe's pants open and Web's panties pressed against bare skin. Joe rocks his hips slowly, his lips still against Web's skin.

"I got beatings. Ain't quite as sexy."

It's a path that's dangerous to tread down because I doubt we'll stop once we take that first perilous step down. And so instead of talking about our respective childhoods, I focus more on getting Joe out of the button-down and sliding my hands over his skin, prying from his mouth in order to touch the warmth of his body and explore the map that is his chest.

"Ready yet?" I ask, nothing but curious, this time.

Joe sits up enough to shrug out of his shirt, both hands pushing up to Web's waist, rucking the robe up with them. He rocks his hips again, deliberately, dick pressing against Web through barely there satin.

"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "I could go."

"Good," is exhaled and I can't even lie to say that there's actually vague hints of excitement in my words. Maybe it's just that it's been a lot of hours. Maybe it's that regular sex is a novelty I'd like to get used to. Or maybe it's just because I've been vibrating with need since the moment Joe told me that I looked good.

I cede control by crawling off of him and lying on my back on the bed, coaxing him atop with a hand on his hip and I just lie there and wait and watch.

Joe bends his head, and kisses Web slowly, rolling his hips down before he manages to pull away.

He's got a notion that he's going to do it differently this time.

Joe starts by standing up, shrugging out of his jeans and underwear and fumbling in his pocket for a rubber. They come in foil now, much tidier than they used to be and Joe's gotta say, he likes it.

Back on the couch with one knee between Web's thighs, he holds the packet out to him.

"Put it on for me?"

I slide my palm over Joe's and take hold of the condom with one hand and his dick with the other, stroking a couple of times before sliding on the rubber and making sure he's good and covered before I push my splayed fingers over my hips and shed the underwear, now only covered by the short and flimsy robe.

In the meantime, I steal kisses where I may, here and there, always seeking that warm contact that threatens to undo me, kiss by kiss.

Joe's breath catches, as Web rolls the rubber down over him, strokes him, yeah, but just as much as he watches Web slip out of panties, with just a layer of satin between them both being naked. He leans over, loosening the robe and bending his head to press a kiss between Web's undeniably perfect tits.

"Ready?"

I nod carefully and for some reason, this plays a toll on my nerves more than last night did or this morning and I stare at Liebgott and brush my fingers through his hair and he's so close and he's so warm and christ, I can't even handle all the ways this threatens to undo me. "Yes," I assure, "Yes. Yes, I am. Yes."

Very slowly, because, suddenly, he feels the need to go slow, Joe settles between Web's legs, shifting his hips until he's against him and then pushing inside, so slowly that it's torture for him and he's gotta wonder what it feels like for Web.

He presses his face against smooth skin, kissing Web's shoulder, and he doesn't quite move, not yet.

"Okay?"

He doesn't want to hurt him again.

I nod, though it's more of a reflex than an agreement. It hurts less than it did before. It's also too much teasing than I want to really deal with right now and my eyes will themselves shut, but I keep them up to turn and watch the jawline of Joe's face, stroking my fingers against it and following the line of his neck and down his back. "More," I plead, gutturally. "Please," I whine. "Oh god, Joe, please. Push. In me."

There's no way in the world that anybody could so no to that and Joe rocks his hips, pushing deep, sucking lightly at the skin under his mouth as he moved, his mouth hovering over Web's.

"Christ."

I dart up and yank Joe down by the neck for a kiss again, closing my eyes and falling. I fall. There's nothing better to describe the sensation than the way it feels to utterly tumble downwards into Joe's kisses and the feeling of opening my eyes and seeing everything I want right there in front of me.

I hitch my other arm around his neck and hold on tight as I rock my hips up to meet his. "Mmh..mm!" I squeak out against his lips when he pushes deep.

Joe laughs, a soft flutter of sound, fucking Web rhythmically now, slow and firm, pushing deep on every stroke.

"That feel good?" he asks, his weight on his elbows to lift him up just enough to look into Web's face.

I nod and grin up at Joe, feeling like a child with how utterly free and happy I feel, laughing right back with warmth and joy and I kiss him, cupping his cheeks before brushing fingers over his shoulders and back and let out a quiet sound as he pushes deep and this time, the pain is gone, now. Only the slightest pressure comes and then pleasure overwhelms.

The noise. It's the noises that Joe loves. He's determined to make it last, make those sounds keep coming and he bends his head and kisses Web so gentle, so soft.

He's barely even been drinking and he feels so light headed. He feels far away but so there.

I'm almost inclined to believe that Joe's forgotten it's me with every light kiss like that, but all I can do is kiss back and hope he doesn't forget that these are my lips and that this is me beneath him. My hands bury deep in his hair once more and I curve a kiss to the corner of his lips, arms lowering to wrap snugly around his lower back and to bring him closer, yet.

All the while, I utter soft utterances of his name, again and again.

He feels a grin spreading all over his face, just because Web keeps saying his name like that, over and over, like nobody else in the world has ever made him feel like that.

Joe doesn't know if that's true but he sort of wants to believe it right then.

"You're so beautiful when you smile," I murmur up to him and surge up to steal another kiss, wanting to remember this always and not the angry Joe Liebgott I've come to see too often. My splayed fingers cup his cheek and I press my forehead to his as we fuck (or is it something else, entirely) and lean in for kisses when I can.

Joe's still not buying that, but, somehow, it's not bothering Joe to hear him say it so much. He deliberately forces himself slower. He lifts up enough to cover one of Web's breasts with his hand, squeezing gently.

This time, he can't stop himself from looking straight into Web's eyes.
It occurs to him that they haven't changed one single bit.

When Joe stares at me, I look back and whimper slightly out of sheer reflex when he goes too slow for my own good. I want more. I want far more than this and I wiggle my hips to shove them up, thrust upwards in a steady hitch and try and get Liebgott to go deeper.

Happy to go deeper, Joe's hand slides down Web's thigh, tugging it higher on his thigh, changing the angle, letting him push deeper. His hand tightened on soft, yielding flesh.

"Jesus Christ, you feel fuckin' amazing."

"Goes both ways," I breathlessly gasp, eyes falling shut even if I've given them a directive to stay open and to watch Liebgott's every last move. "Oh Jesus," I whine and moan. "Joe," I beg. "I can't...I can't," again and again, six more times, and then I can because I do.

The thought's there that Joe's never gonna get tired of watching that happen, and then he reminds himself that he'd better not get used to it, and then there's this treacherous little question of what Web looks like when he comes and he's himself and Joe stamps that one down quickly because what kind of fuckin' pervert would wonder something like that now, and...

And he can't hold onto it any longer and he's tumbling, his mouth working against Web's fair skin as he comes, and comes hard, clinging on for dear life.

[Night Two]

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