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Title: 32 - The Massage
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Sub/dom, Kink. Smut. Ingestion of body fluids. One dirty-talking Colonel. One slutty ex-Specialist. No mercy.
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.
Note: This comes from a plot bunny supplied by the lovely missmishka , and since it fit into my story arc so nicely, I took that bunny and worked it, oh, yes I did. Mmmmm.
The Massage
Grimes had McKnight right where he wanted him.
On the bed. Lying face down. Naked.
Grimes knelt beside him and spread warmed, vanilla-scented massage oil over McKnight’s skin.
American men rank vanilla their second favorite scent, after chocolate.
Grimes couldn’t seriously picture giving McKnight a massage with chocolate-scented oil. That would be weird. But the vanilla had a comforting smell. It reminded Grimes of fresh-baked cookies. Chocolate would have reminded him of baked goods as well. He bet that was why those two scents were the most popular.
McKnight had been sitting next to Grimes, on the couch in Linda’s living room, when the report on the favorite scent survey played on the news. Grimes had asked McKnight what his favorite scent was and McKnight had looked him in the eye and said, “You.”
If Linda and Roz had not been in the next room, Grimes would have been on the floor with his head in McKnight’s lap. But he would not have been sucking McKnight’s cock, because that had happened over two weeks ago, when Grimes was still considered weak and fragile and McKnight didn’t think he was capable of such strenuous activity.
McKnight was over that, thank God.
Even though McKnight had been working hard – at the base during the day, at the cottage in the evenings – Grimes had managed to find time to suck him off every single night since… since…. Grimes didn’t know how to put it, even in his own head. Since he seduced McKnight was perhaps the best way of expressing it. But the mere thought of those words made him shiver.
“You cold?” McKnight asked. He sounded worried.
Damn! Grimes was supposed to be relaxing him. If McKnight got the tiniest idea that Grimes was cold or tired or ill or incapacitated, it would be back to bed rest, which meant resting in bed, and not having sex. And McKnight would once again gently, lovingly, suck Grimes’ cock every night and it would be warm and comfortable, but not ideal.
Ideal went beyond the pleasure and relief of McKnight bringing him off like that. He loved McKnight sucking his cock, but if he wasn’t allowed to reciprocate, he felt like half the sex was missing.
Half the sex was missing! Maybe even more than half, because sucking McKnight, serving McKnight, was the best thing in the world.
“No,” Grimes assured him, “but I think I’ll close the window anyway.” The window was only open and inch or two, but it would hardly do for the neighbors to hear what Grimes hoped was about to happen.
When he returned to the bed, he didn’t kneel beside; he straddled McKnight.
Much better!
Grimes’ balls rested in the space between McKnight’s legs. His cock, soft and sated, draped over the balls and nudged between thighs.
His cock was soft and sated because McKnight had surprised him.
McKnight and Linda had returned from the cottage reeking of bleach. Even after his shower, McKnight carried the faint disinfectant smell. Grimes didn’t mind it so much. It was mixed with soap and the faint scent of McKnight. The bleach smell had already faded, and Grimes hoped to make the soap disappear entirely under a much stronger scent of McKnight, overlaid with the definite aroma of Grimes.
After dinner, Linda had headed over to Roz’s apartment, saying ‘goodnight’ and ‘I’ll pick up some breakfast an my way home in the morning.’ Her car had barely pulled away when McKnight dragged Grimes up the stairs, into McKnight’s room.
“Alone,” McKnight growled in his ear.
Grimes had been about to say something clichéd about ‘at last’, but the words got strangled in a moan when McKnight shoved his hand down the front of Grimes’ pants.
"How fast can you get this hard for me?” McKnight demanded.
No sooner said than done. Grimes managed to get his fly undone while McKnight’s right hand worked his cock relentlessly and his left hand pinned Grimes to the wall.
“All through dinner,” McKnight was muttering. “Never let up. Linda right there and you wouldn’t let up. Fucking tease.”
“What, sir?” Grimes asked between groans.
McKnight’s hand moved up from his shoulder to his head. “Your fucking hair!” McKnight snarled and grabbed a handful.
Had Grimes been playing with his hair at dinner? Teasing McKnight? He couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. He knew better than to play with his hair at the dinner table; it was impolite. Surely, Linda would have told him to stop. No, he hadn’t touched it. He was sure.
“Sir… I didn’t touch it!”
McKnight pressed his whole body up against Grimes and put his mouth over his ear.
“Honestly, sir!”
McKnight quit tonguing his ear long enough to say, “You didn’t have to touch it. It kept falling over your forehead.”
There was one lock that tended to do that.
Grimes hoped it was doing that right now, but he couldn’t tell. He was so light-headed he was a bit numb.
McKnight pulled him by the hair and by the cock to the bed. Grimes was happy to fall on his back. His legs had become close to useless anyway.
Within seconds of McKnight’s mouth fastening around the head of his cock, Grimes was coming.
It was good. Really good. And it got even better when McKnight loomed up over him and deposited the come in his mouth.
Grimes had wanted to go down on McKnight as soon as he received permission to swallow, but McKnight had been kissing him and tugging on his beard with his teeth and rubbing their faces together. Then McKnight told him it was okay; he’d already jerked off in the shower.
Grimes wasn’t sure he liked that idea.
“What I really want is a massage, and I didn’t want my dick to get in the way. And now your dick won’t get in the way either,” McKnight said as he tossed his clothes on a chair.
That had made Grimes forget all about being left out of the shower orgasm.
Grimes kneaded McKnight’s shoulders. He’d touched body builders before, guys with the kind of muscles that make you think of anatomy class. He much preferred McKnight’s solid mass. Wide, thick, strong, perfect. All that muscle padded with just the right amount of cushiness.
Grimes leaned down and brushed his hard little nipples over the smooth oiled skin. McKnight groaned. Grimes straightened up and resumed the massage. He had his hands balled into fists, and had to rise up to get enough power behind them to work out some of the tougher knots. Every time he lowered himself, McKnight made a noise.
Grimes had long fingers. McKnight said his hands looked elegant, but they were strong. And he was good at this. He knew how to put pressure in the right places, to break up the tension and soothe the aches.
Grimes started to get hard again. So soon? He couldn’t help it. Not when he had his hands on slippery skin and the hard muscles were relaxing under them. Not when he had his legs spread to accommodate McKnight’s thighs. Not when his balls were being tickled by leg hair, and his cock kept rubbing in the warm space between those thighs.
McKnight shifted. He was probably getting hard, too, and trying to find a good position for his cock. Grimes lifted himself up to make it easier for McKnight to get comfortable without interrupting the massage.
McKnight made a vaguely dissatisfied noise, which turned to one of a more pleasured tone when Grimes used the heels of his hands to press up the sides of his spine. When he got to the top, he let his hands flit back down with soft, gentle touches.
Grimes thought about rubbing his whole body over McKnight’s back.
McKnight shifted again.
Maybe Grimes should reach around and move McKnight’s cock for him. But maybe he was trying to relax, and a warm, oiled hand might not be much relief. Grimes kept kneading and rubbing, and McKnight kept pushing up. He lifted up and back, and Grimes’ by now hard cock burrowed into the space at the bottom of McKnight’s…
Grimes froze.
McKnight tightened his grip on the edges of the pillowcase and tried not to moan too loudly. This was great. Grimes’ weight on his thighs, and his hands touching so expertly, the warm oil, the dimly lit room, Grimes’ cock, hard and beautiful, resting between his thighs. Grimes rubbed up the center of his back and all the soreness flowed out of him.
Grimes’ cock nudged him. Not between his legs. Higher. It was right there, at that sensitive spot where thighs become ass.
McKnight made a disappointed noise when Grimes’ weight lifted off him. He wanted Grimes on top of him, crushing him to the bed. That’s what he told himself he wanted as he pushed his ass back, hoping for more contact.
It didn’t bother him at all when Grimes’ cock slipped between the cheeks of his ass. It wasn’t really pressing against his asshole or anything. It was just parting the two globes a bit. Sliding. So smooth. So hot.
McKnight liked any contact with Grimes’ cock. Grimes had a truly beautiful cock. Really lovely.
McKnight didn’t have all that much familiarity with cocks. His past sexual experiences with men had usually been almost exclusively focused on McKnight’s cock. He’d never known any cock as intimately as he knew Grimes’, not even his own, since he couldn’t put his own cock in his mouth and feel the shape and size change as it got hard, surround the head with his lips, tease the slit with the tip of his tongue, taste the bitter, delicious come.
It had surprised McKnight how much he liked sucking Grimes’ cock. In fact, he loved sucking Grimes' cock.
He’d figured he would like it, since anything that made Grimes moan was by definition a good thing. But McKnight didn’t just do it so that Grimes would get off. He liked the taste and the smell and the feel of it. He liked the sucking and licking. He’d learned, over the course of Grimes’ illness, to make Grimes come apart in his mouth. Because of his mouth. There was nothing quite like that feeling of responsibility and power.
Grimes loved to suck cock, too. They both loved it for different reasons.
Grimes sucked cock to be submissive; McKnight sucked cock to dominate. Possess. Control.
Something was wrong.
Grimes had stopped massaging him.
McKnight pushed his shoulders into Grimes’ hands. The fingers moved reflexively. McKnight pushed back so Grimes’ cock would slide up the crack of his ass again. Fuck, that felt good.
But Grimes stopped massaging again.
“Grimes, you okay?” McKnight asked. Patiently, he thought.
Grimes let all the air out of his lungs.
“Did I tell you to stop?” McKnight asked.
Grimes’ hands started to move again, but he slid his hips back so his cock fell bumped against thigh again.
That was simply not acceptable.
“Get your ass back up there,” McKnight ordered.
“But, sir, I –”
“What?”
“I… I have a hard on,” Grimes whispered. Like it was a secret.
Well, of course he had a fucking hard on. The blowjob had been meant to lessen the pressure, not finish him off. He was supposed to have a hard on. That was how McKnight liked Grimes best – hard.
Oh, McKnight thought, but Grimes had thought he’d been invading McKnight’s private space with his erection.
As if.
“Yeah. And I want it back against my ass.”
“Sir! I can’t!”
“Why the fuck not?” McKnight barked. This was getting irritating. And his ass was getting cold.
Grimes was sputtering. “It’s not right, sir!”
Oh, for crissake. Had somebody roughed up Grimes for getting his dick to close to an ass? Because if that was the case, McKnight was going to fucking demand names and addresses, and he was going to find the responsible party or parties, and he was going to start ripping fucking throats out. With his bare hands.
McKnight flipped himself over and Grimes gasped. Even McKnight was a bit shocked by the sheer size of his own erection. Fucking massive. And dark, too. Almost angry looking.
Grimes looked terrified and horny at once. That made McKnight’s dick even harder, if such a thing was possible.
“John, I’m not asking you to fuck me. I just want to feel your cock against my ass.”
Grimes didn’t look convinced.
“What, you think I shouldn’t like getting my ass touched?” Come to think of it, Grimes hardly ever touched his ass. He tended to avoid it, and when he did touch it was with a carefulness close to reverence. Except for when he was clutching it as he deepthroated McKnight with wild abandon, but he probably didn’t fully realize what he was doing when he was that worked up.
That had to change. McKnight had to change it.
Unless Grimes didn’t like McKnight’s ass. It wasn’t nearly so shapely and fucking perfect as Grimes’ ass. Maybe Grimes thought McKnight wasn’t… that his ass was…
Naw. Impossible. Grimes was just worried about being appropriately submissive. McKnight needed to be firm about this, that’s all. They would overcome this obstacle, just like they’d overcome all of Grimes’ other difficulties. McKnight merely had to assert his authority.
McKnight turned back over on his stomach. “You have two options - either sit on my ass while you massage my back, or move the massage further down!”
Grimes stared down at McKnight’s back. He couldn’t even look at McKnight’s ass. He was too hard already. So hard and so eager, if he sat on McKnight’s ass he was going to leak all over it.
“My ass is getting cold,” McKnight said in a warning tone.
Grimes put his hands on McKnight’s ass.
McKnight was lying. It was not cold. It was warm. Warm and soft-skinned. It had a nice shape to too. Not chiseled, but firm and it wasn’t flat like some guys’. Had a bit more padding than Grimes’. More muscle under the padding, too.
“You call that a massage?”
McKnight was trying to sound tough, but he moaned as soon as Grimes squeezed. Grimes rotated at the wrist and tested the flesh from a new angle.
Even better.
He started to rub in circles, and McKnight grunted his approval. Grimes ran his hands all over McKnight’s ass, up to his lower back, down to hips, up inner thighs, returning to the full, lush ass. McKnight bucked against his hands and swore.
“God, yes,” he moaned. “That’s fucking good!”
Grimes kept kneading.
“Good boy,” McKnight said, which was sort of weird, since it was usually McKnight’s hands on Grimes’ ass when he said that. “You always do what I tell you to do.”
Was that why Grimes was doing this? He did get off on serving, even if serving entailed something he didn’t particularly enjoy, but this was different because he enjoyed it very much. Maybe too much. He liked this. He liked the warm flesh under his hands and the way McKnight squirmed and the little thrusts of McKnight’s hips and the feel of McKnight’s ass in general.
He pushed up off McKnight’s legs and sat on McKnight’s ass.
Motherfucker! Grimes was sitting on McKnight’s ass, with his balls crushed into that space at the bottom where thighs and cheeks met, and his cock pressing lengthwise along the crack.
“Goddamn it, move!” McKnight commanded.
Grimes moved.
Oh, God, Grimes moved!
He surged up with his hips and lowered his chest to McKnight’s back. His nipples were so hard McKnight could track their every move as Grimes slid up and down his body, cock sliding up and down, legs gripping McKnight’s thighs tightly.
Grimes’ breath was hot on the back of McKnight’s neck. His whole weight, still a bit light but gaining all the time, was enough for McKnight to really feel.
“Sir!” Grimes said unsteadily.
McKnight’s cock was throbbing from the friction of the blanket and his own belly. So good. Not enough to make him come but enough to make really want to come.
Grimes sounded like he was ready to come.
That sounded good to McKnight.
“Sir!”
The edge was getting higher in Grimes’ voice. Approaching critical.
“Feels good,” McKnight grunted.
Grimes shimmied his hips and pressed so hard McKnight could feel the hat, hard shaft sliding against his asshole.
Motherfucker!
He had to make Grimes come soon, or McKnight was going to start begging for something he wasn’t quite ready to beg for. Not yet. He wasn’t entirely opposed but….
He might as well try out the words.
“That’s it,” he said, reaching back to grab Grimes’ ass and keep him moving. Didn’t want him to get skittish now. Everything was too close, too near the surface. Stopping was not an option. “Fuck me, John. I want you to come like that. Keep moving.”
Grimes’ mouth opened against McKnight’s shoulder.
“Fuck me!” McKnight demanded.
Grimes shuddered on a downstroke and hot come spurted on McKnight’s ass.
And then Grimes’ mouth was on his ass, lapping up every bit of it. Felt good. Felt great. And when Grimes’ tongue slithered in the crack, so close to touching his asshole, McKnight felt his skull heat up. If Grimes didn’t stop licking his ass soon…
Grimes pushed McKnight over and closed his mouth over his cock. Thank god. Any more of that and McKnight would have been sobbing.
Now he knew why Grimes made those noises when McKnight ate out his ass.
Grimes made his cock wet all over. Dripping with saliva. Oh, yeah.
But instead of preparing himself and sitting on McKnight’s cock like McKnight expected him to do, Grimes lay face up, on top of McKnight, with McKnight’s cock lying lengthwise in the crack of his…
McKnight snapped to sudden awareness and rolled them both over, sliding his cock up and down the hot crevice. Actual fucking was not required. He was going to come all over Grimes’ ass and Grimes was moaning encouragement and saying his name over and over.
With the chorus of ‘DannyDannyDannyDanny’ echoing in his head, McKnight roared and spread his weight over Grimes back. “Fuck, John, you’re so fucking sexy, so fucking hot,” he said hoarsely. “I love your cock. I love your ass. I’m going to come all over your sweet ass. Say you want my come on your ass, John.”
“Yes, sir, please. I want your come on my ass.”
McKnight ached to come.
Grimes wailed. “Danny! Oh! Come on me!”
McKnight didn’t take that as an order. He took it as a request. An urgent, heartfelt, fucking sexy request. One he could not deny. He couldn’t have stopped himself from coming if he wanted to.
And he didn’t stop there.
He slid down and licked up his own come off Grimes’ ass, because that’s what Grimes had done to him and it had felt so fucking fantastic.
And almost half an hour later, when he finally felt like he might have had enough for the time being, he stopped licking Grimes’ asshole and sucked the come out of Grimes’ cock for the second time that night.
Grimes was a limp, shivering, uncoordinated mess by the time McKnight was done. All the better for McKnight to pull him into his arms.
“Sorry, sir,” Grimes murmured against his throat. “That wasn’t exactly what I’d planned.”
McKnight pulled the blanket over them. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked. “That was the best damn massage I’ve ever had.”
Continued in: 33 Steele
Back to: Soldier Porn
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