Sparkindarkness PWP 2
Jul. 14th, 2005 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI have posted Sparkindarkness 69 (I still can't quite get that)
Of course, such a number has nearly religious significance.
It is necessary to celebrate and commemorate this appropriately.
I woke up with a start, coming alert just in time to feel the full impact of the floor as I landed heavily on it. For a brief second I laid in a confused tangle of fallen sheets and hair, trying to get my bearings. Thankfully, I woke up fast, unlike Rick who seemed to take several hours and many pints of undiluted caffeine before he was even close to anything approaching thought in a morning. I pushed my hair out of my eyes in irritation. I’d taken to loosely braiding it or at least tying it back while I slept, Rick had complained but he didn’t have to work out the knots every morning. How is it that I can endure the agony of burning wards every day, but knots pulling in my hair is torture? Besides, Rick moved in the night and always ended up sleeping on it - there is nothing more annoying in this life or the next than having someone laid on your hair. Of course, the problem was that Camaalis hair disliked being contained,. It was too thick and strong and full of volume, it protested confinement. Which made no sense, after all, wasn’t straight hair supposed to be easily maintained? Probably the magic in our bloodline.
I stopped musing about my hair and pushed myself to my feet (disentangling several escaped strands from round my legs. Why can‘t we have an easier family tradition like a secret handshake or something? At least no-one wears the ornaments any more) to discover what had driven me from my bed. Rick sprawled happily uncovered over the sheets (most of which seemed to have fallen down with me, he always flung them onto me. Of course, he unjustly accused me of stealing them) snoring peacefully. It was a quiet sound, but incessant -I’ve found that nothing short of axe murder will stop it. It was one of those plagues in life you couldn’t get rid of but had to live with, like the common cold, telemarketers and Conservatives. He was also laid upside down in the bed, his feet propped on the head board, legs over the remaining pillow (the rest had been scattered) and his head near the footboard of the bed - and he hadn’t gone to sleep that way. One leg and an arm sprawled over to my side of the bed, explaining my ejection. Even for a nocturnal mover like Rick this was a new extreme.
I briefly considered the wild idea of jumping on him, or bighting the smooth expanse of buttocks that were just begging to be attacked but grudgingly reconsidered. Rick would hardly welcome being woken in such a manner (at least, he would pretend he didn’t welcome such an assault as an excuse) and he was much stronger than I was. Not always a problem admittedly, but I would rather sleep comfortably for what was left of this night - and sleep on my back for preference.
I struggled back to fight for what little space I could claim (in such a large bed! How could anyone spread out this much?) I ended up with my head cushioned on his outstretched thigh and his arm cuddling casually around my waist, an interesting position, but not one that is likely to bring a good night’s sleep. The thigh under my ear was wonderfully war and very soft, but somehow it defeated sleep. Still, I was content to lie, nestled against the warm flesh for some time.
No, it wouldn’t do. If I didn’t get to sleep I wouldn’t be up early enough to wake Rick up at an obscene hour of the morning. I opened my eyes irritably and realised yet another bonus of this position - it seemed it put my eyes level with his groin - that would certainly be a pleasant sight to wake up to, though considering his normal condition in a morning it could result in my having an eye poked out - but in a very sexy way, I’m sure. There was nothing for it, I must wake Rick (and I assure you my view had absolutely no effect on that decisions).
I leaned forward and licked, gently. Slowly and gently, long sure strokes to covered every inch of that velvet skin, I often wondered why the skin was so wonderfully soft here. Since he was circumcised (I will never understand that American obsession) I could explore all around the head of him easily. I teased at the base of the head before lapping down to his soft, loose balls - here was skin that was still softer, loose and pliable, I could feed it into my mouth, lick, nuzzle and nibble. I could roll the hard, but so delicate balls around in my mouth, my chin resting against the thick shaft of him, it had grown hard and solid, even in his sleep. I eased back just to stare for a while. I spent a large part of my life naked next to him, watching him naked, touching every inch of his naked skin, but opportunities to examine him this close - this part of him, and in this much detail without him distracting me was rare. He was large, I have never really dwelled on how large he was before. I always knew he was large, had had ample opportunity to feel every inch of him, but I’d never really thought on how large he was. Staring at him from mere inches away I could appreciate that full, hard length in all its glory. It arched slightly upwards, a gentle sweeping curve that was fun to trace with a finger. The skin was smooth and unblemished, not a mark to ruin it. He was lightly dusted with hair, well groomed and neat. It was fine, thin and so light it was more a light gilding than a mat of hair. In the warm air of the bedroom, even without covers, his balls were loose and relaxed - but o very sensitive. They quivered to even the slightest touch.
Satisfied with my inspection, I bent my head back towards him with a new appreciation of his size and beauty. I took him almost roughly into my mouth, sucking down hard. He tensed, finally waking up, confused groggy and aroused. Rick was never at his best first thing in a morning. It usually took several cups of coffee and constant goading by Ghost, Ahrimadan and myself before he even approached consciousness.
Of course, it turns out that all these months all we had to do was wake him up with oral sex. I’d never known him come aware so quickly - if you’ll excuse the pun. He awake with a moan, not the common groan of him being woken up at a reasonable hour, but the deep, contented rumble of building pleasure. I could feel the goofy grin creasing across his face, even without looking. I could feel it through his flesh and body in my mouth and pressed against me. I would have to remember in future- sex was an effective way of waking him up and keeping him conscious in a morning.
He was apparently pleased with his own view - though he wasted little time in looking. I shivered as his mouth closed over me, hot and wet despite the hour. Certainly a much better use than guzzling coffee he normally needs to wake up. It was awkward, Rick was ridiculously tall compared to my more sensible height, though thankfully a lot of that unreasonable height came from his long legs. We managed - it was more than worth the effort.
My body began to move without prompting from my mind. I hips pushed me deeper inside him, thrusting gently into him instinctively. My whole body rubbed against him as much as I could, I didn’t know how much of it was writhing from the growing electric warmth in my groin, how much of it was desperate desire to feel his smooth, hot skin rub along mine and how much of it was my simple love of laying against him. Whichever it was, I almost danced against him, a wave of movement that started as my hips pushed into him and continued upwards as my stomach and chest rubbed against his naked body. My arms wrapped around him, hands clenching tightly on his firm backside. I couldn’t see, but I knew my fingers were holding tight enough to almost hurt, but I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip. I used my powerful hold to drag y body still closer to him, pulling with my arms to rub against him closer and faster.
He laid almost still besides me, at least, still compared to my dancing. He made a constant low growling moan in the back of his throat - it felt wonderful. He thrust his hips into me, but incredibly gently - especially considering how powerfully he normally thrust into me. Even then, I had to concentrate (as much as I was able, his tongue was driving all thoughts from my mind until all I could think about was his beautiful mouth sucking, licking and caressing me) to open my throat and tilt my head - he was so big I almost choked. I concentrated carefully, feeling every inch push into me - it was wonderful and a little scary as I struggled to breath past him. I loved it. I began to make my own noises around the hard member in my mouth. He held me close, both arms wrapped gently around me, roaming up and down from the tops of my shoulders down to my buttocks. The feather light touch was almost maddening and incredibly sensuous, his finger tips tickled across my skin and were an amazing contrast to the burning, building power in my groin. One should have overwhelmed the other, but they melded together in a way that made my whole body quiver. It was incredible.
His moaning grew louder, his hips pushed into me harder, almost too hard, it almost hurt. It did hurt - I could feel the strength of his toned, muscled body with every thrust. My moans sounded half choked, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow his stroke. His hands tightened, his muscles straining to pull me closer, to pull us tighter together. I started to struggle, more instinct than anything, I could hardly breathe and I was painfully aware the strength in his hips and arms. I wanted to get away, but wanting to get away made me all the more desperate not to. I needed to escape and couldn’t. I was trapped, I hurt and I could hardly breathe - I shuddered as a whole new level of ecstasy took me.
Rick came without warning, flooding down my throat. I almost couldn’t here his cries (though I could certainly feel them rumble through his body and scream past my cock) over my near choking, he thrust jaggedly into me, each movement bringing another new cry from him. It seemed to last an age, an age of his orgasm, my choking and his body spasming againt mine. Finally he collapsed, going limp. His cock in my mouth began to soften, allowing me to breathe past it again. I made a happy sound in the back fo my throat that had little to do with Rick’s mouth still on my hard cock and everything to do with his repelete body next to mine after he had controlled me so completely.
I sucked at the limp sex in my mouth, teasing him with hard strokes of my tongue. Rick groaned above me and tried to pull himself out of me - he was always terribly sensitive after orgasm. I clung on to him wickedly, keeping up my expert ministrations (even if I do say so myself) as Rick flinched and shuddered. His mouth returned to its work on my cock with full vigour, speeding my breath. His left hand balled into a fist in my hair, pulling my head back away from him painfully, making me catch my breath in a longing gasp. His right hand scooped down to my backside, it was so gentle compared to the hard fist in my hair. A finger eased its way inside me, found that perfect spot…
I don’t know whether it was his body against mine, my cock in his mouth, his fist in my hair or his finger inside me, but suddenly I was blown away in intense orgasm that stopped my breathing far more than Rick’s cock had done. I rolled over onto my back, basking in the glorious afterglow.
After a minute of glorious contemplation I felt the bed move besides me. I cracked open my eyes lazily to see Rick snuggling in besides me. He tried to move close to me, burrowing his head under my arm. After a few awkward (but wonderfully comfortable) minutes, he gave up and pulled me to him instead, tucking me curled up against his chest. His long arm lay like a line fo heat over my bac - he was always so warm - wuith the hand gently cupped possessively over my backside. It was much more comfortable - we must have been designed to lay like this, we fit so well together.
He brushed a few stray strands of hair from my forehead and out of his face so I could see his (goofy) grin unimpeded. “You have the best idea for a midnight snack I’ve ever come across, love boy.”
I smiled contentedly, even letting ‘lover boy’ pass. “We need a shower.”
He smiled suggestively. “Can’t you give a guy a minute? I haven’t got my breath back yet.”
I tried to summon the urge to hit him. It was hard, and it really was too comfortable to move. “One track mind. To get clean, fool.”
He muttered something and just pulled me in closer. A shower did seem a terrible amount of effort right now.
“Rick?”
“In the morning.” He mumbled, already burrowing back into his pillow.
“Rick? Rick?” A gentle snoring answered me. I sighed. “Honestly. You are such a complete guy sometimes.” Contented, I settled down next to him, really not all that bothered that I needed a shower. At least this way it was unlikely Rick would push me out of bed again.
And besides - his last words can surely be considered justification for waking him up before noon. I closed my eyes and sought sleep with a smile - until the morning.
Of course, such a number has nearly religious significance.
It is necessary to celebrate and commemorate this appropriately.
I woke up with a start, coming alert just in time to feel the full impact of the floor as I landed heavily on it. For a brief second I laid in a confused tangle of fallen sheets and hair, trying to get my bearings. Thankfully, I woke up fast, unlike Rick who seemed to take several hours and many pints of undiluted caffeine before he was even close to anything approaching thought in a morning. I pushed my hair out of my eyes in irritation. I’d taken to loosely braiding it or at least tying it back while I slept, Rick had complained but he didn’t have to work out the knots every morning. How is it that I can endure the agony of burning wards every day, but knots pulling in my hair is torture? Besides, Rick moved in the night and always ended up sleeping on it - there is nothing more annoying in this life or the next than having someone laid on your hair. Of course, the problem was that Camaalis hair disliked being contained,. It was too thick and strong and full of volume, it protested confinement. Which made no sense, after all, wasn’t straight hair supposed to be easily maintained? Probably the magic in our bloodline.
I stopped musing about my hair and pushed myself to my feet (disentangling several escaped strands from round my legs. Why can‘t we have an easier family tradition like a secret handshake or something? At least no-one wears the ornaments any more) to discover what had driven me from my bed. Rick sprawled happily uncovered over the sheets (most of which seemed to have fallen down with me, he always flung them onto me. Of course, he unjustly accused me of stealing them) snoring peacefully. It was a quiet sound, but incessant -I’ve found that nothing short of axe murder will stop it. It was one of those plagues in life you couldn’t get rid of but had to live with, like the common cold, telemarketers and Conservatives. He was also laid upside down in the bed, his feet propped on the head board, legs over the remaining pillow (the rest had been scattered) and his head near the footboard of the bed - and he hadn’t gone to sleep that way. One leg and an arm sprawled over to my side of the bed, explaining my ejection. Even for a nocturnal mover like Rick this was a new extreme.
I briefly considered the wild idea of jumping on him, or bighting the smooth expanse of buttocks that were just begging to be attacked but grudgingly reconsidered. Rick would hardly welcome being woken in such a manner (at least, he would pretend he didn’t welcome such an assault as an excuse) and he was much stronger than I was. Not always a problem admittedly, but I would rather sleep comfortably for what was left of this night - and sleep on my back for preference.
I struggled back to fight for what little space I could claim (in such a large bed! How could anyone spread out this much?) I ended up with my head cushioned on his outstretched thigh and his arm cuddling casually around my waist, an interesting position, but not one that is likely to bring a good night’s sleep. The thigh under my ear was wonderfully war and very soft, but somehow it defeated sleep. Still, I was content to lie, nestled against the warm flesh for some time.
No, it wouldn’t do. If I didn’t get to sleep I wouldn’t be up early enough to wake Rick up at an obscene hour of the morning. I opened my eyes irritably and realised yet another bonus of this position - it seemed it put my eyes level with his groin - that would certainly be a pleasant sight to wake up to, though considering his normal condition in a morning it could result in my having an eye poked out - but in a very sexy way, I’m sure. There was nothing for it, I must wake Rick (and I assure you my view had absolutely no effect on that decisions).
I leaned forward and licked, gently. Slowly and gently, long sure strokes to covered every inch of that velvet skin, I often wondered why the skin was so wonderfully soft here. Since he was circumcised (I will never understand that American obsession) I could explore all around the head of him easily. I teased at the base of the head before lapping down to his soft, loose balls - here was skin that was still softer, loose and pliable, I could feed it into my mouth, lick, nuzzle and nibble. I could roll the hard, but so delicate balls around in my mouth, my chin resting against the thick shaft of him, it had grown hard and solid, even in his sleep. I eased back just to stare for a while. I spent a large part of my life naked next to him, watching him naked, touching every inch of his naked skin, but opportunities to examine him this close - this part of him, and in this much detail without him distracting me was rare. He was large, I have never really dwelled on how large he was before. I always knew he was large, had had ample opportunity to feel every inch of him, but I’d never really thought on how large he was. Staring at him from mere inches away I could appreciate that full, hard length in all its glory. It arched slightly upwards, a gentle sweeping curve that was fun to trace with a finger. The skin was smooth and unblemished, not a mark to ruin it. He was lightly dusted with hair, well groomed and neat. It was fine, thin and so light it was more a light gilding than a mat of hair. In the warm air of the bedroom, even without covers, his balls were loose and relaxed - but o very sensitive. They quivered to even the slightest touch.
Satisfied with my inspection, I bent my head back towards him with a new appreciation of his size and beauty. I took him almost roughly into my mouth, sucking down hard. He tensed, finally waking up, confused groggy and aroused. Rick was never at his best first thing in a morning. It usually took several cups of coffee and constant goading by Ghost, Ahrimadan and myself before he even approached consciousness.
Of course, it turns out that all these months all we had to do was wake him up with oral sex. I’d never known him come aware so quickly - if you’ll excuse the pun. He awake with a moan, not the common groan of him being woken up at a reasonable hour, but the deep, contented rumble of building pleasure. I could feel the goofy grin creasing across his face, even without looking. I could feel it through his flesh and body in my mouth and pressed against me. I would have to remember in future- sex was an effective way of waking him up and keeping him conscious in a morning.
He was apparently pleased with his own view - though he wasted little time in looking. I shivered as his mouth closed over me, hot and wet despite the hour. Certainly a much better use than guzzling coffee he normally needs to wake up. It was awkward, Rick was ridiculously tall compared to my more sensible height, though thankfully a lot of that unreasonable height came from his long legs. We managed - it was more than worth the effort.
My body began to move without prompting from my mind. I hips pushed me deeper inside him, thrusting gently into him instinctively. My whole body rubbed against him as much as I could, I didn’t know how much of it was writhing from the growing electric warmth in my groin, how much of it was desperate desire to feel his smooth, hot skin rub along mine and how much of it was my simple love of laying against him. Whichever it was, I almost danced against him, a wave of movement that started as my hips pushed into him and continued upwards as my stomach and chest rubbed against his naked body. My arms wrapped around him, hands clenching tightly on his firm backside. I couldn’t see, but I knew my fingers were holding tight enough to almost hurt, but I couldn’t seem to loosen my grip. I used my powerful hold to drag y body still closer to him, pulling with my arms to rub against him closer and faster.
He laid almost still besides me, at least, still compared to my dancing. He made a constant low growling moan in the back of his throat - it felt wonderful. He thrust his hips into me, but incredibly gently - especially considering how powerfully he normally thrust into me. Even then, I had to concentrate (as much as I was able, his tongue was driving all thoughts from my mind until all I could think about was his beautiful mouth sucking, licking and caressing me) to open my throat and tilt my head - he was so big I almost choked. I concentrated carefully, feeling every inch push into me - it was wonderful and a little scary as I struggled to breath past him. I loved it. I began to make my own noises around the hard member in my mouth. He held me close, both arms wrapped gently around me, roaming up and down from the tops of my shoulders down to my buttocks. The feather light touch was almost maddening and incredibly sensuous, his finger tips tickled across my skin and were an amazing contrast to the burning, building power in my groin. One should have overwhelmed the other, but they melded together in a way that made my whole body quiver. It was incredible.
His moaning grew louder, his hips pushed into me harder, almost too hard, it almost hurt. It did hurt - I could feel the strength of his toned, muscled body with every thrust. My moans sounded half choked, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow his stroke. His hands tightened, his muscles straining to pull me closer, to pull us tighter together. I started to struggle, more instinct than anything, I could hardly breathe and I was painfully aware the strength in his hips and arms. I wanted to get away, but wanting to get away made me all the more desperate not to. I needed to escape and couldn’t. I was trapped, I hurt and I could hardly breathe - I shuddered as a whole new level of ecstasy took me.
Rick came without warning, flooding down my throat. I almost couldn’t here his cries (though I could certainly feel them rumble through his body and scream past my cock) over my near choking, he thrust jaggedly into me, each movement bringing another new cry from him. It seemed to last an age, an age of his orgasm, my choking and his body spasming againt mine. Finally he collapsed, going limp. His cock in my mouth began to soften, allowing me to breathe past it again. I made a happy sound in the back fo my throat that had little to do with Rick’s mouth still on my hard cock and everything to do with his repelete body next to mine after he had controlled me so completely.
I sucked at the limp sex in my mouth, teasing him with hard strokes of my tongue. Rick groaned above me and tried to pull himself out of me - he was always terribly sensitive after orgasm. I clung on to him wickedly, keeping up my expert ministrations (even if I do say so myself) as Rick flinched and shuddered. His mouth returned to its work on my cock with full vigour, speeding my breath. His left hand balled into a fist in my hair, pulling my head back away from him painfully, making me catch my breath in a longing gasp. His right hand scooped down to my backside, it was so gentle compared to the hard fist in my hair. A finger eased its way inside me, found that perfect spot…
I don’t know whether it was his body against mine, my cock in his mouth, his fist in my hair or his finger inside me, but suddenly I was blown away in intense orgasm that stopped my breathing far more than Rick’s cock had done. I rolled over onto my back, basking in the glorious afterglow.
After a minute of glorious contemplation I felt the bed move besides me. I cracked open my eyes lazily to see Rick snuggling in besides me. He tried to move close to me, burrowing his head under my arm. After a few awkward (but wonderfully comfortable) minutes, he gave up and pulled me to him instead, tucking me curled up against his chest. His long arm lay like a line fo heat over my bac - he was always so warm - wuith the hand gently cupped possessively over my backside. It was much more comfortable - we must have been designed to lay like this, we fit so well together.
He brushed a few stray strands of hair from my forehead and out of his face so I could see his (goofy) grin unimpeded. “You have the best idea for a midnight snack I’ve ever come across, love boy.”
I smiled contentedly, even letting ‘lover boy’ pass. “We need a shower.”
He smiled suggestively. “Can’t you give a guy a minute? I haven’t got my breath back yet.”
I tried to summon the urge to hit him. It was hard, and it really was too comfortable to move. “One track mind. To get clean, fool.”
He muttered something and just pulled me in closer. A shower did seem a terrible amount of effort right now.
“Rick?”
“In the morning.” He mumbled, already burrowing back into his pillow.
“Rick? Rick?” A gentle snoring answered me. I sighed. “Honestly. You are such a complete guy sometimes.” Contented, I settled down next to him, really not all that bothered that I needed a shower. At least this way it was unlikely Rick would push me out of bed again.
And besides - his last words can surely be considered justification for waking him up before noon. I closed my eyes and sought sleep with a smile - until the morning.