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Title: 30 - Well Enough
Rating: NC-17,
Warning: Sub/dom,
Disclaimer: Has absolutely nothing to do with the real life men the book and movie were based. It's only inspired by the movie and I make no profit. And I do not set forth this type of relationship as ideal or healthy for anyone. Although it works for these two.
Well Enough
Grimes craned his neck to look over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror. The new jeans were a bit snugger now, only a couple of weeks after Roz and Linda had bought them for him. That’s what happens when you sit around on your ass all day long doing nothing.
But the jeans did look good. They hugged his hips and showed the shape of his ass clearly. And it was clearly a shape McKnight loved.
Just that morning, McKnight had fondled him before he left for the base, his hand hot and heavy on Grimes’ ass. Grimes had wriggled a bit, trying to tempt McKnight’s fingers to the center. McKnight had squeezed him abruptly and muttered, “Fuck, John, you put another five pounds on that skinny frame of yours and I’m not going to be able to leave for to work in the mornings.”
Grimes didn’t know if he should believe him. But McKnight had been encouraging him to eat for two weeks. Roz and Linda and McKnight all said he was looking better. Grimes supposed he looked healthier. His color was a lot better. His hair looked better. More shine and all that. He had more energy, and he certainly wasn’t putting on weight anywhere he didn’t want it.
Not that he wanted his ass bigger. McKnight wanted his ass bigger. His ass could get huge and McKnight would still want more. Which was sort of frustrating, since McKnight had shown no inclination toward fucking said ass. He just touched it and squeezed it and occasionally licked across the globes and muttered against it, usually something about it being more perfect every day.
But he hadn’t fucked it since before he left, three, closer to four weeks, almost a month before.
Grimes turned around to look at the front. His chest was okay. Not really buff but there was some definition. His belly was flat, waist curved in but not enough to make it look feminine. The jeans were cut lower than any of his other jeans, below his navel, but they still didn’t look girlish or anything, No, he definitely looked like a guy.
But how the fuck did that work? They looked like ordinary jeans, but somehow they were cut so the ridge of his cock showed obviously against his left inner thigh. He unzipped and fished out his semi-erection, trying to find a less obvious place for it, but no matter what he did with it, it showed.
He didn’t even have that big a cock, but the style or the material or something made him look positively hung. Had Roz bought them at the jeans-for-gay-cruising store or what?
There would be no hiding the hard on in these jeans.
That might no be such a bad thing. McKnight had been treating him with kid gloves, afraid to go too far, but Grimes was well enough to go all the way. This might be just the thing to push McKnight over the edge, past his protective, bordering-on-paranoid restraint and into his more customary state of undisguised want.
Of course, he couldn’t wear these jeans in public. They were too form-fitting. Almost lewd. Grimes didn’t like drawing attention to himself like that. He’d grown accustomed to army uniforms, which could be – and were, on McKnight – damn sexy, but if you wore them in just the wrong size they made you look really ordinary and not worth looking at.
Grimes pulled on one of the t-shirts Linda had given him. She’d insisted on the new clothes, said his old ones were worn and frayed and he deserved better. Everyone seemed to want to make him accept the best. The best medical care, new clothes, expensive food. Grimes wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Especially not when he was being treated so… carefully.
He squinted at himself in the mirror. The dark red t-shirt looked good with his skin and hair. And his hair was growing in nicely. It lay flat, if he didn’t fuck with it too much. He wished McKnight would fuck with it more. Fuck him more. At all. He was a little worried that a guy like McKnight, who had grown so used to fucking and getting sucked every day, could suddenly be so chaste.
Oh, there’d been sex. McKnight had sucked him off every night. But that was it.
Grimes messed up his hair so he looked like he’s been interrupted in the middle of fooling around. Which he sort of had been, since he’d been naked on the bed with his hand on his hard cock when McKnight called to say he was on his way home, and did Grimes want him to pick anything up for dinner?
“Just you, sir,” Grimes had answered honestly, and McKnight had laughed nervously.
Goddamn it; it wasn’t funny! Grimes had yet to suck off a full colonel and it was starting to seriously fray his nerves.
Not that he didn’t appreciate McKnight’s efforts. Fuck, the man could, and did, suck cock with the same diligence and dedication he showed all his duties. No two blow jobs were ever alike, and he’d been exploring Grimes’ cock and balls like they were something he had to conquer. Too late, Grimes wanted to tell him, they’re already yours. But that’s all McKnight would allow.
He wasn't sure what McKnight was doing. He had to be jerking off in the shower or when Grimes was asleep. He wasn't letting Grimes do anything.
He was beginning to think it had been a grave error letting McKnight’s mouth anywhere near his genitals.
That’s the way it is in the army, sometimes. The CO has all the fun.
But that was going to change tonight. Linda was gone, a hundred miles away at a drama competition, with her eleventh-grade class and their production of “The Madwoman of Chaillot”. McKnight had gone to the base to set some stuff up for Monday, when he would be officially back at work, and tomorrow was a day off. Perfect.
“Hey, you upstairs?” McKnight yelled from the hallway.
Grimes adjusted his cock one more time.
Grimes was better now. He wasn’t coughing or sneezing or wheezing anymore, and he didn’t get dizzy when he stood up. He’d even jogged a mile during his walk that afternoon.
He was feeling good, and looking good. Except…
He rubbed his hand over his chin. McKnight insisted on it. The beard. He liked to run his fingers over it and rub his cheek against it. And McKnight had been keeping himself exceptionally clean-shaven. For contrast? Grimes wasn’t sure about it. With his longer hair and the beard, he looked a bit… like something his grandfather used to call a “hippy freak”.
The hairs were softening as they grew longer. They were also getting more reddish. Quite red, he thought. He’d been teased about that when he was a kid. Carrot top. Head’s on fire. Stupid shit like that. He’d tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t help being relieved when his hair got darker, more brown, when he got older. It was still reddish, but more a dark blonde than the strawberry blond of his youth. A hint of gold in his hair was okay. But the beard was more than golden. It was copper.
McKnight appeared in the doorway. Grimes turned from the mirror to face him.
“Fuck!” McKnight exclaimed.
Grimes sauntered across the room. “Good evening, sir,” he said as he pressed up against McKnight’s bulk.
Damn, he looked good in battle dress. All solid and burly. Grimes wanted every inch and every pound of that officer on top of him. As soon as possible.
“Mess is on the table,” McKnight said nervously.
Grimes turned his back on McKnight and walked to the bed.
“Uh, did Linda and Roz buy you those?”
Grimes nodded. “You like them?” He bent down - a little more than he needed to, but what was the point of jeans like that if you weren’t going to wield them properly, like the weapon they were obviously meant to be? – and picked up his hooded sweater.
McKnight swore a whole paragraph.
Good reaction.
“Do I need this sweater?”
McKnight went a bit pale and shook his head. “No, that would be too much… I mean, it’s warm enough without it.”
And it was going to get way warmer.
Grimes was a little miffed that he had to go to all this trouble to seduce McKnight. It shouldn’t be necessary. But it made him all the more determined to succeed. He walked past McKnight, brushing against his arm with chest and hip. McKnight followed him down the stairs. Closely.
Grimes sat in his chair and ate the chicken and rice and salad McKnight had served him. It was a bit more than he needed, but it made McKnight so happy to see him eat. Maybe it would make him horny. He made a point of glancing down at the floor between McKnight’s feet. Often.
McKnight went out for a smoke after dinner. There was no smoking allowed anywhere in the house since Grimes got sick. Grimes found he didn’t really miss it at all. He’d been steadily cutting down anyway, and McKnight was always considerate about brushing his teeth or at least rinsing with mouthwash so Grimes wouldn’t have to taste it.
That’s what McKnight was doing when Grimes went around the house locking doors and making sure all the blinds were closed.
McKnight came out of the bathroom and found a fresh cup of coffee on the table. And Grimes lounging on the floor in front of his chair.
“John,” McKnight said.
Grimes looked up casually. “Coffee, sir?”
“No.”
“But I made it especially for you.”
“I don’t mean the damn coffee.”
Grimes pouted.
“Don’t pout!” McKnight said, with a hint of desperation in his voice.
Fuck. Grimes had really hoped it wouldn’t come to this. “Don’t you like me anymore?” he asked.
“Of course, I like you. But you’re not ready.”
Grimes snorted.
“Okay, I’m not ready.”
“I think you are, sir.”
McKnight sighed dramatically. “Will you get off the floor?”
“When you sit on the chair.”
McKnight sat down, and Grimes nestled between his legs and rubbed his face over his crotch. McKnight wasn’t hard, but he sure as hell wasn’t soft either.
“You said you would get up.”
“I got it up as soon as I heard your voice on the phone, sir. And with all due respect, I appreciate you taking such good care of me, but your caution borders on the absurd. I’m better, and I’m going to keep getting better, but I’ll get better a lot quicker if my needs are met.”
McKnight pushed his chair back indignantly. “I’ve been meeting your needs.”
Grimes shuffled forward. “Not those needs sir.” He flicked the top button of McKnight’s pants open. “I need to serve.”
McKnight gripped the edge of his seat.
“I need to feel your cock in my mouth.”
McKnight let out a small groan.
“I need to rub this beard on the insides of your thighs.
McKnight made a much louder groan.
“Please, sir.”
McKnight made a helpless noise, almost a whimper. “I can’t…”
Grimes moved fast to free McKnight’s cock, just his cock. It was close to fully hard, fat and heavy. The foreskin was almost retracted, and the head was wet and delicious-looking.
“I can’t say no to you.”
Grimes beamed up at him. “Drink your coffee, sir, before it gets cold.”
Grimes let McKnight take a few long drinks before he did anything else. He wanted the coffee in McKnight’s mouth, not on his new t-shirt. When he heard the cup clatter back onto the table, he flicked his tongue out.
“Ah!” McKnight gasped.
Grimes turned his head and rubbed his jaw line over the head of McKnight’s cock.
“Motherfucker!”
Grimes opened his mouth and swallowed McKnight.
He could feel every muscle in McKnight’s legs tense. He could sense the whole massive torso above him going rigid, as rigid as the cock in his mouth. The hands on his shoulders were trying not to hurt, not to crush, not to force.
Grimes eased up on McKnight’s cock and held it loosely in his mouth. He waited patiently for McKnight to adjust and relax. Slowly, a bit of the tension eased away. Grimes circled his tongue lightly around the fat head and felt fingers comb through his hair.
One hand left his head and the bottom of the coffee cup scraped across the table.
It was all Grimes could do to contain himself. McKnight’s fingers, casually petting him, were like heaven. The floor was reassuringly hard under his knees, and McKnight’s thighs spread a little wider so Grimes could move forward another couple of inches. The jeans felt like they were caressing him. His own cock, hard and long, was wedged up against his belly at an awkward angle. It was too late to adjust it, but that was okay. It wasn’t pain; it was pressure.
He started a slow, easy rhythm, the sort of pace he could keep up for however long he had to, the same pace he used when McKnight was watching a football game or reading reports or having a smoke. No fast moves. He slid his lips down, jaw wide open, squeezed the base, slid back up, moved his tongue languidly across the head, moved his lips back down again.
McKnight slammed the coffee cup down on the table after a minute or two.
Grimes ignored it.
One of McKnight’s hands gripped his hair, the other fisted the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Grimes sped up.
“Aw, fuck, good boy,” McKnight muttered.
Too soon. It was too soon for ‘good boy’. Grimes hadn’t done anything that good. Yet.
Grimes slid his mouth off and scrambled up McKnight’s body, legs spread wide. McKnight’s cock pressed wet and hot into the crotch of his jeans, but the jeans were too tight to spread that wide, so they were stretched taut, not quite touching Grimes’ balls. There was pressure and heat, but no direct friction for Grimes.
God, it was good.
McKnight had his hands on Grimes’ hips and was trying not to rub his cock against Grimes, and not entirely succeeding.
“Sir, nothing has changed,” Grimes said fiercely. “Nothing has to change.”
McKnight put his thighs together, probably in some vain attempt to dampen his need. “I’m not doing anything different,” he said.
“Yes, you are. You’re treating me different.”
McKnight put his arms all the way around Grimes and hugged him close. His face was pressed up against Grimes’ shoulder. “You were sick. I was scared. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Grimes rubbed his chin over McKnight’s scalp. “No, sir. That’s the excuse. You think I can’t serve you because you love me.”
McKnight opened his mouth and breathed hard against Grimes’ arm.
Grimes had to take control. He didn’t like it, but desperate times, desperate measures. He pulled away from McKnight, placed his hands on either side of his face, and looked him right in the eye.
“I love you,” he said steadily. “But it doesn’t matter how much I kiss you.”
McKnight swallowed thickly.
“It doesn’t matter how much you like to suck my cock.”
McKnight bit his lip.
“It doesn’t matter if you eat my ass out all night long.”
McKnight opened his mouth to moan.
“I signed up for the long haul, sir. And you’re my commanding officer and nothing is ever going to change that. Right?”
McKnight wavered.
“Nothing will stop me from wanting… no, from needing to serve you. I won’t let anything. Do you understand?”
McKnight nodded.
“So. Permission to resume active duty, sir?”
McKnight’s hands dug into Grimes’ waist.
Grimes was suspended in the air, like that first second of a parachute jump.
“Granted,” McKnight whispered.
Grimes tried not to look too relieved as he slithered down to the floor. McKnight’s legs were still together, so he had to drape his torso over them to reach the thick cock still sticking straight up out of the uniform. The knees digging into his stomach made his guts throb. He put his mouth back on McKnight’s cock.
He didn’t expect McKnight to go back to drinking his coffee. He couldn’t expect nonchalance after that. But he was not prepared for what McKnight would do.
McKnight’s hands slid up his shoulders, around his neck, up to his hair. The fingers pulled harshly and yanked his mouth up off McKnight’s cock.
McKnight looked down at him sternly. Not coldly, though. His eyes were heated. It was the hottest, most intense stern Grimes had ever seen, so hot and intense it made Grimes’ insides melt.
“You’re out of uniform, soldier,” McKnight said quietly. Dangerously.
“Sir?” Grimes didn’t have a uniform.
“Get rid of those civvies. Now.”
Grimes peeled himself off McKnight’s thighs. “Yes, sir!” He ripped the t-shirt off his torso. The air tingled against his chest. He flicked the jeans open and unzipped. The sudden reduction in pressure made him groan. He had to wriggle to get the tight jeans over his hips. He’d got them halfway down his thighs before McKnight was on him, lifting him up onto the table, coffee cup flying to the floor, Grimes on his back, McKnight wrenching the jeans down off him.
Grimes’ ass was hanging off the edge of the table and he wasn’t sure what McKnight wanted him to do with his legs. They dangled, naked and shivering while McKnight raked his blunt nails up and down inner thighs, then McKnight pushed them up and apart.
“Anyone touch this ass while I was gone?” McKnight demanded.
“No, sir. Not even me, sir!”
McKnight pushed Grimes’ legs up higher, pulled his ass open.
“Well, then I guess I should be gentle.”
Grimes’ head spun as McKnight’s tongue surprised him, a long, wide lick across his asshole. This was not what he’d planned at all. He was supposed to be licking. He was supposed to be sucking McKnight’s cock. He was supposed to be serving. He found himself muttering as McKnight’s mouth assaulted him. Wailing, really.
“Quiet, soldier,” McKnight growled, stopping his licking long enough to take a deep breath. “This isn’t serving; it’s taking!”
Grimes pulled his knees all the way up to his chest and reached down to hold himself wide open. Okay! If his commanding officer wanted to take, then Grimes would do everything in his power to make it happen.
McKnight resumed his frenzied licking and tongue fucking.
God, yes. Grimes was being opened completely. Any muscle tension in his asshole went straight to his cock, and from the wetness of the slurps he could feel and hear that he was going to be more than ready.
“Please, sir,” he hissed. “Take whatever you want.”
McKnight turned away from Grimes’ asshole and clamped his lips on the tender skin next to it. Grimes shrieked as McKnight sucked hard. He could picture the mark being brought up by the steady suction and intermittent scrapes of teeth. The ache of it pulled deliciously, made his cock and balls and asshole ache too.
“Oh, sir, more! Yes! Take me!” he babbled. “Take all of me.”
McKnight heaved up over him, pressing his legs against his chest. McKnight’s face was wet with saliva, mouth swollen, eyes blazing. His cock bumped against the fresh love bite.
“Please, sir.”
McKnight shifted his hips and the fat head of his cock found the soft wet hole.
Grimes shook.
McKnight shook his head. “No,” he said.
Grimes could not believe it.
“Maybe I can take whatever I want,” McKnight said, “but that doesn’t mean I have to.”
What the hell? Grimes was fucking trembling, he wanted to be fucked so badly. Was McKnight refusing him?
McKnight’s hand brushed across Grimes’ cheek. Tenderly. And it made Grimes ache more than anything.
It was inhuman. How could he just stay there like that, with his hard, so hard cock pushing against a hot, wet, soft, fully-prepared, aching….
McKnight had more control than Grimes did. He was proving that. It was only appropirate. He was the CO, after all. Grimes was shivering with need. McKnight was frozen, solid and sure, at the very cusp. Drawing Grimes’ need tighter and tighter.
McKnight surged forward and his cock stretched Grimes’ asshole wide open.
“Ahhh, sir!” Grimes pulled his hands off his own ass so they wouldn't be pinned by McKnight’s pelvis. He curled up off the table so he could grab McKnight’s hips before McKnight changed his mind. McKnight slid all the way in and stopped moving.
Fuck. Jesus. Goddamn. Grimes had never felt so full. Never been so full.
“Bit of a shock, after so long?” McKnight sounded amused.
Grimes managed a quick nod. There wasn’t room to flail. All his flailing was going on inside.
“You’re virgin tight,” McKnight growled.
Grimes shuddered.
“Just like I wanted.”
Oh, help, Grimes thought frantically. There was no way he would survive.
“You always follow orders, don’t you, soldier?”
Grimes would have given almost anything for McKnight to shut up and fuck him, because this was taking things too far. McKnight was staring at him, burning him with his eyes, and he was buried so deep their balls were mashed together, and McKnight’s cock just kept getting bigger and bigger and bigger inside Grimes.
“Such a good soldier.”
Fuuuuuuuck.
McKnight moved out a millimeter and back in two.
“Such a good boy.”
Grimes used all his energy to squeeze McKnight’s cock as hard as humanly possible.
“But…”
But? No. No but. No stopping. No changing course. Just fucking. Fuck fuck fuck. Grimes vision was blurring. He was folded into a tight space underneath McKnight and if he didn’t expand soon he was going to die.
McKnight reached around Grimes’ folded legs. “I wanted to feel this on my thighs.”
McKnight’s fingertips ruffled across Grimes’ jaw.
“You will, sir. I promise, sir. Just, please, Oh, fuck. I need… I have to… you have to…”
McKnight smiled – no, leered – down at him.
“I don’t think you‘re in any position to be giving orders, soldier.”
No, he wasn’t. Grimes was not at all in control. He was totally at McKnight’s mercy. How the hell had that happened?
Then McKnight did the unthinkable.
He pulled out.
Slowly, because Grimes really didn’t want to let him go, but he pulled out, and he pushed Grimes’ legs down and stood between them with his cock in his hand. Grimes’ cock in his hand.
“You wanna come?” McKnight asked.
Stupid question. But not. Because on considering the question for more than a split second, Grimes discovered that he did not, in fact want to come. Not like that.
“No, sir, I want you to come.”
McKnight stroked Grimes’ cock thoughtfully. “So, you’re going to wait for me, then. Wait for me to come first. Is that it, soldier?”
Grimes nodded. He would have saluted, if he could have remembered how to make his arms move. “Yes, sir.”
McKnight’s fingers tightened. “No, you’re not.” He tugged Grimes’ cock with a brutal twist.
Grimes howled and his whole body lifted off the table. His asshole and balls clenched at the same time and the come burned its way up and out of this cock, spraying out onto his belly, clearing McKnight’s hand entirely. McKnight kept jerking him off and he kept coming violently until his cock went dry and his voice quieted. McKnight scooped the come off his skin and smeared it over the still throbbing cock, which kept Grimes coming, somehow, or at least feeling like he was coming, until his head fell back on the table with a thud.
“Now, that’s a good boy,” McKnight said.
Continued in: 31 Prickle
Back to: Soldier Porn
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