thewordofweb | (no subject)

(no subject)

There are just some things in the world that shouldn't be what they are.

For instance, I am sure that when I went to bed with my arms around Joe's waist, I hadn't worn red silk boxers, I hadn't strewn the bed with rose petals, and Joe wasn't wearing those...well, those. The bed, even, is dressed in different sheets and I rub at my eyes and sit up, trying desperately to ignore the fact that there are candles burning in the dim light of dawn and soft classical music playing.

"Fuck," I whine softly and yank at the covers (which have inexplicably turned to red silk), burying myself under them with a groan and de-settling too many rose petals to explain, ignoring the orchids and roses in vases around the room. I press my face against Joe's bare back and let out a muffled sound, trying to ignore the fact that I'm fairly sure I saw baby oil sitting on the dresser under a stack of love poetry.

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All Joe can do is stare, eyes fixed on Web in the mirror, the lift of his own hips, the slide of Web's mouth.

"Jesus Christ," he whimpers, back arching.

You taste good would have come from my lips had they not been previously occupied and I abandon speech to give Joe one more blowjob, always trying to make it the best of them, like every other time. My hands come to clasp at his hips tightly, one nudging under to brush and apply pressure to his balls, stroking lightly before I back off and lick and suck the head of Joe's dick, hoping it's as good a show as it can be, up in that mirror.

It's a pretty damn good show, and, even pushed up onto his elbows, Joe can't stop staring. His head's tipped back, giving him a better view.

"S'not gonna be long," he warns.

I exhale happily and ease off to grin dazedly at Joe, placing my mouth back on Joe and paying good attention to the tip, the most sensitive areas under my tongue. Softly, a moan comes from me and I blow softly, hot air there against the underside.

Come on. Come on, come on, Joe.

One of Joe's hands is up over his head, holding on to the bedframe, the other is pressed into Web's dark hair as his hips rock, movements becoming more erratic before a moan sobs out of him and he comes, and comes hard.

He's pretty sure it's gotta be a sin to be as good at this as Webster is.

As if I'm performing a pattern, this time I swallow rather than spit, happily intending to bring him off and swallow, enjoy it thoroughly. When I'm done cleaning Joe off, I go back to sucking and licking the remnants of the frosting from his skin.

Slowly, very slowly, I grin dazedly at Liebgott. "I wonder if this is why Toye and Roe...well, enjoy this. Really good head," I tease, sprawling on the bed beside Joe with a long exhalation.

Still lying prone from the blow-job and the sensation of Web's lips and tongue against his skin, Joe barely has the energy to lift his head.

"What about Toye and the Doc?"

I stay where I am, kissing Joe's neck slowly, brushing his hair to the side to suck off some more frosting. "I think they're together," I mumble, still kissing slowly down his chest. "Toye says he's like me, he was staring at Doc like...well, like..."

"Huh."

Joe thinks about that for a moment, idly shifting his hips as Web sucks on his neck.

"You think it's in the water or somethin'?"

I laugh lazily at that, grinning over at Joe as I crawl back into his lap and straddle his waist and lean down to kiss him and then do it again and again. Back to the making out, rather. I palm my full hand down his chest, cupping his hip and kissing him harder.

"Joe," I moan against his lips, wiggling slowly. "Joe, bring me off," I request simply.

Joe doesn't need telling twice. The movements still aren't entirely natural, twitching his hand between them, curling his fingers around Web's dick and starting to jerk slowly. He started off pretending that it was just like touching his own, the same thing, altogether, but it's not like that at all.

Now he finds himself wanting to focus on the fact that it's Web's dick in his hand. So maybe it is in the water.

"Like that?" he murmurs, eyes off the mirror now, fixed on Web's face. "You like that?"

I nod rapidly, because it feels better than I had ever expected. I thought maybe that it would be weird having to coach Joe through it all, but I don't have to say a word and god, it feels so good. "Yes," I exhale shakily. "Oh god, Joe, yes. Just...more? Please, more?"

"More what?" says Joe, teasing, though his hand obeys the instruction, fingers tightening, stroking quicker, thumb rubbing over the head of Web's dick.

The smallest of whimpers escapes me and I stare at Joe with need clear on my face, hips pushing up into his hand. "Joe, please, more. Harder. Please." I'm desperate and I need more, but I don't really need much before it'll all be too much.

Oh god, how does Joe Liebgott manage to overwhelm me so wholly? "Joe," I gasp. "Liebgott. Please."

Joe's wrist works smoothly, the skin under his fingers smooth and hot and slick. The movement of Web's hips means that he's fucking Joe's fist, and JOe ccan't explain how hot that is, or why it would be so hot, just that it undeniably is.

I bite my lower lip as he works at me, sighing heavily and staring at Joe with half-lidded eyes. "Almost," I promise, still shaky as anything. "Oh, god..." And slowly, very slowly, I feel it approaching until it strikes me suddenly out of nowhere.

"Fuck," I whimper, getting Joe's name out in a moan. And then, then, I come. Heavy and spent, I sag heavily onto the silk sheets, unable to move much. "You're getting really,, really good at this."

It splashes hot and sticky across Joe's belly and he moans, softly, his hand still stroking until Web moves out of his grasp.

"What can I say?" he says, with a broad, shit-eating grin. "I've always been a fast learner."

I lie there and stare at Joe, exhaling softly and pillowing my head with my arm, exhaling as I look at him. "So," I murmur, grabbing a hand-towel from beside the bed and leaning over to start cleaning Joe up, kissing his neck. "I'll go to the boat. You can have the rest of the day to yourself, but I need my hair done."

I grin up at him teasingly. "Might have a big date."

"Oh, you might?" Joe grins and passes one hand through Web's thick, dark hair.

"Yeah. I guess I can do somethin' with it."

I grin at him, leaning into the touch heavily. "Besides, maybe I like the feel of your fingers in my hair," I point out, voice low as I help to rebutton Joe's shirt and put his vest back on, sitting up to head to his chair.

I give a soft whine as I sit and wait. "Just don't get me too riled?" I call over to him in the other room.

Joe sits on the edge of the bed for a minute, catching his breath and then he gets up, wandering through into his own room.

"Hell, I'll do my best," he says, reaching for his scissors.

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