thewordofweb | (no subject)

(no subject)

Joe nods and then, on impulse, leans in and grazes his mouth against Web's.

"Beer. Whisky. Done." He grins and turns away. "I'll see you at home?"

I stand there and wait. "I'm escorting you back," I tell Joe with no lightness in my voice, even if being caught off-guard by a pleasant kiss is one thing that will go a very long way. My lips bear a warmth not my own and I instantly yearn for something a little more, but I don't say a word. "Go. Hurry. I don't want to be fucking around this place all night."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Every time he presses so hard back against me, I push forward with my mouth, refusing to let him win this, completely. My hand drifts up and around to slowly stroke his dick, not fast enough for his liking, I'm sure. But I don't give a fuck because I'm busy with my own task of fucking him from behind with my mouth.

Joe rests his forehead against the door, breathing hard through his mouth, and something makes him keep both hands pressed against the door, even though what he'd like best in the world is to reach down and make Web's hand move faster.

"What are you..?"

Licking my tongue sharply over my teeth, I pry myself back off Joe and smirk to myself with self-assurance and confidence that I'm doing the right thing. "Remember when I said there were things left to learn? This is one of them," I assure and go back to it, gently prying his legs just a little further apart and licking my thumb before using it to rub at the head of Joe's dick.

He shifts his weight, tries to stay balanced, rocking between Web's mouth and his hand, and for a long time, Joe thought the word 'slut' only applied to girls, but he's learning different.

He sure must look like one. Jesus Christ.
At this rate, he's going to come just for this and he ain't gonna care what else Webster's got planned.

Long and slow and flat goes my tongue as I work, unable to do anything but enjoy the thought of giving Joe this constant pleasure when it comes to us, wanting him to associate feeling this good with me. Every time my hand feels too dry, I bring it back to spit, to get it wetter, to slowly wrap it around Joe's length again to bring him off.

It doesn't take any time at all before Joe's hips are trembling and he's coming hard, over Web's hand and his own belly, his forehead hitting the door with a soft thunk.

"Jesus."

He's done already? I thought, in my mind, that he might have lasted just a bit longer. I'm still surprised, but I ease back and the taste in my mouth is so fucking dirty that I can barely stand it. I stand, grabbing hold of Joe's hips and yank him back against me, kissing at his neck to place the third hickey against his skin.

"You, on the desk," I command, firmly.

"Oh, come on," mumbles Joe, his body still trembling from what just happened as he leans back against Web, as Web sucks up yet another mark on his skin. "You gotta be tired. Just lemme suck your dick and we can both go to sleep."

"No way on Earth," I inform him as I press my face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapping snugly around his body and pulling him back against me, supporting him as much as he needs to be. "Desk. When you're ready."

Pressed back against Web, Joe can feel how hard he is and he groans, softly, bending from the waist to snag a beer and he's aware of just how compromising a position that puts him in.

"Desk? You're going all fuckin' out tonight."

I don't have the longest of fingernails, but when Joe bends and I'm still pressed up against him, they clasp down as hard as they can on Joe's hips and I seethe out a hiss of pain and need and desire at once, bowing my head to kiss down his bare back, feeling the opportunity and not having the chance to do anything about it.

With one hand, I slowly disentwine and lean down to grab the whiskey, taking another swig of it back before crossing to the small desk and knocking on the wood of it. "It's your birthday, remember?" I point out. "I have to make it memorable."

Taking a long swig of his beer, Joe wanders over to the desk, leaning in to give Web a slow, damp kiss, tasting sharper spirits.

"On it how?" he murmurs.

There are so many options at this juncture and I bite down on my lip as I look at him, kissing him thoroughly and needily, biting down hard as I can against the juncture of shoulder and neck as I clasp his hips and stand back. "Legs spread wide as you can," I coax. "Sitting facing me."

It feels a little bit ridiculous, getting up on the desk like that, hooking his feet behind the legs, knees spread wide. He sips his beer and looks up at Web.

"Like that?"

"Put the beer down, you look like white trash," I criticize, prying it from his hands and setting it on the floor before I lean in and kiss him deeply while searching for the nearest little bit of lube, slicking myself up when I find it and then him, watching his face with a mischievous little smirk.

He doesn't seem to be caterwauling anymore.

I try to ignore the way the desk sounds oddly fragile, like it's about to creak, like it might just break. It can't. It couldn't.

...could it? "There," I gasp, pushing into him, slowly. "Right there."

"We can't all have gone to Harvard," says Joe, lifting his hips to the press of Web's fingers, biting his lip and letting his head roll back against the wall. Web pushes into him and Joe groans softly, his fingers pushing into Web's hair.

"That good?"

"Do you know what the word nymphomaniacs means, Joe?" I lazily lecture, my voice coming low and in a deep rumble as I press my lips to his to steal a kiss here and there, wherever I can.

Which is to say that yes, it is very good and I can't deny that in the least. I sigh with soft content and push against him, setting my usual rhythm as I thrust in and out, wanting more than just what I'm getting and soon, I'm going faster than before.

Joe's a little distracted just then, but he shakes his head anyway, arching forward after the kisses when they come. Web's fucking him hard enough to rock the table underneath him and Joe holds on with one hand, the other arm curled around the back of Webster's neck.

"No. No, I...don't know what that means."

My laugh is breathless as I push into him, deep as I can go without hurting him, conscious of that. There's that creak again, but right now, I ignore the sound, kissing Joe hard as I thrust in. "It means," I exhale against his lips, "obsessed with having sex. Again and again," I say, pulling out only to push in, "and again. And again."

That makes Joe laugh, breathlessly, doing what he can to push bacck against Web.

"Sounds familiar."

I laugh more, grinning and turning to press my face to his neck, doing little more than nuzzling and kissing lightly there, happy to push in, moans muffled by Joe's skin. "Nothing wrong with it," I gasp out, feeling the warmth and the tightness become overwhelming. Another thrust and another and I'm so close that it's pointless to say anything else except, "Joe, almost," breathlessly.

"C'mon," urges Joe, pushing ten fingers through Webster's hair, cradling his head close. It feels really fuckin' good, even if it's too soon for Joe to come again himself, but, Jesus Christ, it feels good.

"C'mon, baby."

I let out a quiet whimper at the words Joe's spouting at me and I keep grabbing hold of him to help each thrust push in deeper and fuller and more. Breathing hard, nostrils flaring, I kiss him on the underside of the jaw before I come, having been so close to it all this time.

And now, I know for a fact that the creaking isn't just in my head, the way I hear it. Grabbing hold of Joe's waist, supporting him, I push him up against the wall, just before the creaking gets worse. I can barely talk and god help me, my mind is dazed from that climax. "Think it's gonna break," I say, words rumbling together to make just one long word.

Joe keeps one leg hooked around Web's waist, his fingers pushed through his hair, and he tries not to move.

"If it does, you fuckin' broke it."

"Did not," I counter, shifting him slowly while trying to coax him off it, just in time for one of the legs to snap and then my tug comes faster than before and I pull him onto feet, even if I'm still shaky. I laugh wearily and with a light moan as it starts to crack and crumble. "Your fault."