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Title: No Sex
Rating: NC-17
Warning: No sex. At first. Then sex. And some sort of roleplaying. Lots of dirty dirty talk.
Disclaimer: Not the movie, not the real guys, not intended to infringe on anything but the bounds of decency.
Dedication: I hope this gives steelesheen a little thrill.
No Sex
McKnight stayed calm, hands on the table on either side of his beer, feet flat on the floor. Linda had gone to pick up Grimes from his night school class, and Grimes would be home in ten minutes. Fifteen, tops.
McKnight had not laid eyes on him in three long months.
Three months was enough to cope with, without McKnight’s recently-acquired knowledge of the lengths to which Grimes and his sister had gone to protect McKnight’s career. After all that fake sneaking around and accidental public exposure, everyone was convinced they were lovers. The rumor mill cranked up full speed, and now was petering out. It was perfectly acceptable – an ongoing relationship between two consenting adults. Sure, one was an older, respectable, staid school teacher and the other was a much younger, incredibly sexy ex-soldier. But that was no big deal in this town. No big deal at all.
Except McKnight was… jealous.
He had never been much for analyzing his feelings, but this one was hard to miss; all the signs were there. He’d been fidgeting with his beer bottle and the edge of the tablecloth. There was a hot, unsettled sensation at the back of his skull. And he couldn’t wait to shove Grimes against a wall and claim him for his own.
On second thought, he always wanted to shove Grimes against a wall and claim him for his own. Maybe that one didn’t count. But the hot feeling and the fidgeting, he recognized those from past experience. They were directly connected to the part of McKnight’s brain that got jealous, which happened to be situated right next to the part of his brain that wanted sex.
He wasn’t worried about Grimes at all; he knew Grimes was solid. And he wasn’t jealous of Linda; she had no designs on Grimes. Not that McKnight knew of.
McKnight clenched his fist to keep from smacking himself upside the head. The very fact that he’d even thought “not that he knew of” meant that he had considered it a possibility, however fleeting, which was so stupid it could only be attributed to the jealousy.
He was jealous because Linda was getting Grimes’ attention. He wanted to be the one picking Grimes up from class and shopping with Grimes and going to the fucking fall formal with Grimes on Friday night.
On second thought, McKnight hated formals. That he wanted to go to the stupid fall formal at all, even if it was just to be with Grimes, had to be another symptom of the jealousy.
It was official then – he was hopelessly green-eyed.
It was insane. There was no reason to be jealous. Must be the long separation. And the three months with no sex.
But no! It wasn’t just about the sex. Well, of course it was about the sex. How could it not be about sex? Grimes was… he was walking, talking, kneeling, fucking sex, twenty-four hours a day. Except he wasn’t. He worked and he went to school and he did all kinds of things that had nothing at all to do with sex and McKnight liked him when he was doing just about anything, even if it had nothing to do with sex, although most things made McKnight think of sex when Grimes was doing them. Maybe it was McKnight who had been making it too much about sex. Maybe he shouldn’t make it all about sex. There had to be more than sex; this was like a real relationship.
That settled it. McKnight had to find a way to make sure that what they had was more than just sex. The most effective solution was not to have sex. That was it; he would simply not have sex with Grimes, to prove it didn’t always have to be about sex.
Then Grimes walked into the kitchen.
Correction, McKnight thought to himself. It did not always have to be about sex, but it sure as hell was always at least in part about sex, because Grimes looked so… so all about sex.
“Sir,” Grimes said, a little breathless.
Wow. Grimes was… Grimes looked… Grimes… Grimes was wearing jeans and a large sweatshirt that hid a lot of him but wasn’t long enough to cover the best parts, which were being hugged by the jeans in the best way possible. And his hair was long. Long and sort of coppery and it looked soft.
No sex did not have to mean no contact. McKnight got up. “Come here,” he said, also a little breathless, even though all he’d done was stand up.
It took Grimes forever to cross the kitchen floor – at least two seconds. And then McKnight had his arms around him and his face pressed against Grimes’ hair and even Grimes’ shoulder blades felt good under his hands. “I missed you,” McKnight said.
“I missed you too, sir,” Grimes said, and squirmed a bit.
McKnight dropped a hand to Grimes’ hip to stop the unnecessary and entirely too sexy squirming, and promptly discovered that this no-sex thing was going to be far easier said than done, because Grimes’ felt good all over, especially in the hips.
“I just want…” McKnight said, then hesitated.
Grimes pulled away a bit, so he could look at McKnight’s face with wide serious eyes. “What do you want, sir?”
The part of McKnight’s brain that wanted sex was screaming ‘To throw you on the table and fuck you until you scream!’ but the part that wanted to be mature and reasonable and not in trouble with his sister prevailed. Besides that, throwing Grimes on the table and fucking him until he screamed wasn’t even necessary – McKnight was elated from being in the same room, just from the proximity. “This,” he said. “I want this.” He ran his fingers through Grimes’ hair, until he heard Linda clearing her throat in the hallway. “We’re decent,” he said. And they were. He was only half-hard and Grimes was containing himself admirably.
They all sat down. McKnight finished his beer. Grimes and Linda had tea. There was a new familiarity between them. Deeper than before, it spoke of many evenings of having tea after night school.
“Hey,” McKnight noticed suddenly, “where’s Roz?”
Linda and Grimes exchanged looks.
“She took a job in Atlanta,” Linda said quietly.
Fuck. No way.
“It’s an amazing opportunity,” Grimes said. “She’s in charge of the children’s collection at the main branch of the public library.”
McKnight didn’t know what to say.
“She said to tell you she is sorry she will not be able to pretend to be your girlfriend anymore, but she can only handle one long-distance relationship at a time.”
Only one? “You mean, you two are still…?”
“Of course we are,” Linda said with a sniff of indignance. “I won’t lie and say it isn’t difficult, but she’s not that far away. We are perfectly capable of maintaining a relationship without seeing each other twenty-four hours a day. She visited last weekend.”
“I was lonely,” Grimes joked.
Shit. Oh well, he’d lost his cover, but at least Linda hadn’t lost her girlfriend - that was a relief.
“It’s late,” Linda announced. “I have an early morning meeting of the Social Committee.” Linda kissed McKnight on the forehead and then Grimes on the cheek and McKnight couldn’t help noticing that Grimes kissed her back and the back of his skull heated up again. “Wait a few minutes after I turn out the lights,” she said, “and no one will notice you two sneaking home.”
All this sneaking around… Linda had just kissed Grimes and it looked like the way a woman might kiss her boyfriend goodnight, in a nonsexual way, and he would never be able to kiss Grimes like that, not where anyone could see them.
But then, McKnight wasn’t so big on nonsexual kisses, was he? Or he hadn’t been in the past. That could change. Kissing didn’t have to always be about sex. It could be affectionate. Just affectionate.
“Why didn’t she tell me about Roz before? She told me about that bitch Marilou and having to put on a big show for everyone, but she didn’t say a word about Roz.”
“Maybe she doesn’t think it’s that important. I mean, nothing has changed between her and Roz, except they only get to see each other on weekends. It’s not that big a deal. After all, sir, you were much further away from me, and for much longer, and that hasn’t changed anything, has it?”
“No!”
“See?”
They sat in the dark, waiting until they wouldn’t be seen.
“You’re not angry, are you sir?”
“Angry about what?”
“Me having to pretend with your sister.”
“Hell, no. Maybe a little angry that you have to pretend, but not at you.”
“Good.”
They waited in the dark some more.
“Can we go home now?” McKnight asked.
“Oh, yes, sir!” Grimes got up. “I’ve been looking forward to this, sir.”
McKnight didn’t have to ask exactly what Grimes had been looking forward to. Of course, he expected McKnight to fuck him. That was how things had always been. But that wasn’t how things always had to be.
They walked through the woods in silence. Grimes tripped, maybe on purpose, and pressed back against McKnight’s chest.
The sex part of McKnight’s brain told him to throw Grimes against a tree and fuck him until he screamed. McKnight’s fingers twitched and settled on Grimes’ shoulders, which made Grimes press even closer.
“Home,” McKnight growled in Grimes’ ear.
“Good idea, sir.”
Grimes kept walking, and when he emerged from the trees into the moonlight he was hugging himself, arms crossed, hands on his waist. He was either cold, or he was trying to contain himself. Could have been either. It was chilly out, and he seemed to only be wearing the sweatshirt, which probably wasn’t all that warm. McKnight recognized the shirt as one of his own. The sex part of his brain started to rev up again.
McKnight wanted to put his hands where Grimes’ hands were. To grab Grimes’ wrists and uncross his arms and push him back into the woods against a tree and… but that was the sex part of his brain talking. Too late anyway – Grimes kept walking until he got to the cottage.
Inside, Grimes waited patiently while McKnight took off his jacket. Grimes licked his lips. McKnight took off his boots. Grimes bounced on his heels. “Do you need anything, sir?”
For Grimes, in this situation, that counted as patient.
McKnight steadied himself. “I’m just going to, uh…” He headed for the bathroom.
Grimes followed.
“Look, I’ve been traveling all day. I just need a quick shower.”
Grimes nodded vigorously.
“I’ll only be a couple of minutes.”
Grimes looked confused.
“I’ll be quick. I promise.”
McKnight looked back when he got to the bathroom door; Grimes looked dejected.
No. NO. He would NOT give into his baser instincts. If he let Grimes into the room while he took a shower, there would be sex. Guaranteed sex. He would throw Grimes up against the shower wall and fuck him until he screamed. Instead, he pissed and then he showered efficiently and changed into the clean BDU Grimes had probably washed that morning and hung on the back of the bathroom door, just in case.
Grimes was sitting at the dining room table, playing with the stretched out left cuff of his sweatshirt.
Wrong. It was McKnight’s sweatshirt. That’s why it was so damn big on Grimes. He was swimming in it. It probably brushed his nipples every time he moved.
“Motherfucker,” McKnight muttered.
Grimes looked up and brightened considerably. “Sir!” he said. He moved to get up, and then he crouched a bit as if he might slide down to his knees.
The sex part of McKnight’s brain visualized the table swept clear of its piles of papers and file folders, and Grimes spread out on the tabletop. Naked.
“Are those files important?” the rational part of his brain that did not want to cause Grimes any extra work asked.
“Very,” Grimes confirmed. “That’s a month’s worth of work, sorting all that out.”
Damn. “Well, then, I think we should go upstairs.”
The sex part of McKnight’s brain envisioned Grimes on his hands and knees, picking up scattered papers. While wearing nothing but those jeans with no ass in them.
“Now,” McKnight added.
The piles of paper were safe, for now.
Or not. The sex part of McKnight’s brain made his hip bump the edge of the table as he walked past, so a single file folder tumbled to the floor, spilling its contents across the rug.
Grimes got down to gather the receipts and hand-printed notes. The shirt rode up a bit, and while it wasn’t quite as good as if Grimes were wearing the assless jeans, the view was excellent.
Grimes looked over his shoulder, up at McKnight. “Are you teasing me, sir?”
McKnight tried to look innocent – not an easy task when the sex part of his brain had assumed so much control, but he figured he could pull it off since it had been his stupid hip that knocked the stuff on the floor, not him.
Grimes got up and moved dangerously close. “You are teasing me!”
Plausible deniability. McKnight shook his head. “I must be tired. A bit clumsy. That’s all.”
Grimes put his hands on McKnight’s shoulders. “Danny,” he said, “you must be teasing me. Otherwise, you would have fucked me by now.”
The responsible, reasonable, more-than-just-sex part of McKnight’s brain went completely blank. “Upstairs,” he croaked.
Grimes grinned. “Give me a minute to get ready,” he said.
“No,” McKnight said. “I mean, that’s not necessary.”
Grimes raised on eyebrow.
“I mean, we can just go upstairs.”
“I have to take a leak,” Grimes said.
“Okay, fine. But, just come upstairs, okay?”
McKnight was closing the curtain over the blind when Grimes got there. “So, what did you have in mind?” Grimes asked.
Absolutely nothing. There was nothing in McKnight’s mind. Except for Grimes, right there in front of him, finally, after three fucking months – hair in his eyes, beard about a week old, well-worn sweatshirt hanging off his shoulders, with bare feet and probably wearing nothing under the jeans. Three feet away and McKnight could do anything he wanted.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just… it doesn’t have to be all about sex. If you don’t want it to be.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
McKnight tried to think of some way to articulate it, but he found the concept elusive. What the hell had he been thinking, anyway?
Grimes had moved up to McKnight. Right in front of him. In his face. “Sir,” he said, with a good deal of emphasis on the ‘sir’, “with all due respect, it’s been three months. I fucking want the sex.”
McKnight made a noise like a whimper.
“But, fine. Have it your way,” Grimes said lightly. Possibly too lightly to be believed. “After all, you’re the CO. You don’t want sex - okay. No sex.”
The sex part of McKnight’s brain planned immediate and total mutiny.
“I didn’t really mean that.”
“It’s what you said, sir.”
“Yeah, but it was more of a gesture. I don’t think I really thought it out.”
Grimes tilted his head to one side. “Really? Well, let me help you. You were thinking about how I serve you, and how you could take advantage of that if you were so inclined, even though you don’t, or maybe you think you get more out of the sex than I do.” He waited for McKnight’s noncommittal shrug before continuing.
McKnight had had those thoughts in the past, even though he didn’t have them at the moment, so he couldn’t entirely deny them. So, yeah, he shrugged.
“Or maybe three months with regular, normal guys has made you question the way you are, and the way I am.”
Another shrug. Not really. He didn’t understand how anyone would want whatever the fuck regular or normal was supposed to be, not when he had someone so extraordinary and spectacular. But at least they could tape a picture of their wife or girlfriend inside their locker.
“Or maybe someone was complaining about how long it’s been since he got any pussy, and how his wife was going to bitch about him only wanting her for the sex.”
Hearing the word ‘pussy’ from Grimes was strangely shocking. Especially since that last guess had been so shockingly accurate.
“Something like that,” McKnight said. He considered asking Grimes to repeat the statement, so he could hear him say ‘pussy’ again, but that might have been taking advantage.
“And you’re angry about me kissing Linda like that,” Grimes said, not quite so assertively.
“No,” McKnight said automatically. Then re-thought. “Kissing Linda like what?”
Grimes shrugged. “Like I’m her boyfriend.”
“Yeah, but how do you kiss Linda?” McKnight asked. Maybe he hadn’t been listening closely enough, but he didn’t remember Linda saying anything about kissing. “She didn’t say anything about kissing.”
“It’s just part of the act, sir. Does it make you wish you could be in a more conventional relationship?”
How could McKnight know? He’d only just found out about it. Shit. “How do you kiss Linda?” he repeated.
“Do you wish I was more… respectable?”
“You’re perfectly respectable.”
“I meant, like, suitable.”
“You suit me perfectly,” McKnight said. Which begged the question; if Grimes suited him so perfectly, in every way imaginable, then why the hell weren’t they having sex?
“But you don’t want sex.”
“I do want sex.”
“But not with me.”
“With you. Only you.”
“But you want to prove you don’t need it.”
“No. I need it. I want to prove I can live without it.”
“You just did. For three fucking months. But that’s fine. Your choice.” Grimes backed away from him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! What the fuck had he done?
And then Grimes started to take off the sweatshirt.
McKnight had been wrong. Grimes was wearing something under the sweatshirt. He was wearing a tight, black t-shirt that didn’t quite tuck into the jeans, so when his arms were raised as he took off the sweatshirt, a sliver of pale belly showed, right above the jeans, and the worn, brown leather belt. McKnight’s old brown leather belt, which was too big for Grimes, so Grimes had folded over the end and tucked it into the front pocket of the jeans.
Motherfucker.
How his own belt could suddenly become so fucking sexy was a mystery. McKnight didn't want to solve it, though. He wanted to fuck it.
He moved before Grimes could get the shirt over his head. Down on the bed, with his arms tangled in the sleeves, eyes covered but grinning mouth exposed. McKnight pinned him to the mattress. He didn’t want to see the look of triumph in Grimes’ eyes, so he reached up and pulled the shirt further down.
“Think you’re clever, soldier?” he asked in a desperate attempt to assert his authority. Trouble was, the sex part of his brain didn’t really give a damn about authority. It wanted Grimes’ mouth or hand or ass or something on McKnight’s cock, which had gone from solid to rock hard in two seconds, and that was pretty well all it cared about at that moment.
“Oh, no, sir. Just trying to be helpful.” Grimes voice was muffled by the shirt.
McKnight put one hand on Grimes’ wrists and loosened the belt with the other. “Helpful? Yes, I think I need a little help. I think this belt will be very useful.” He yanked it out of the beltloops.
Grimes stopped squirming and held very, very still, breathing steady and very deliberately.
Aw, shit. McKnight froze too. Grimes thought McKnight wanted to use the belt… but he would never hurt him. He’d said so more than once. How could Grimes be scared of McKnight, after all this time? Fuck. But then, fear isn’t logical, is it?
McKnight looked down at the belt. He’d only intended to loop it around Grimes’ wrists and around the headboard, have a little fun. How could he have been so stupid? He’d practically threatened him with the belt! He tossed it on the floor They could play with the belt any old time. Right now, he needed to assure Grimes that he was safe.
He pulled the sweatshirt all the way off and put his arms around Grimes and held him close. Grimes didn’t respond right away, but then he snaked his arms around McKnight and pressed his face against McKnight’s neck. The side with the scar. McKnight stroked Grimes’ back.
That was nice. McKnight had lost his erection instantly, but he didn’t care. He was holding Grimes and they were lying together and Grimes was breathing easier and nuzzling McKnight’s neck and making little sighing noises.
“Are you okay?” McKnight asked after a while.
Grimes licked his neck. “I’m fine,” he said.
“Really?”
Grimes threw his leg over McKnight’s thigh. “Honestly.”
McKnight lay there, just holding Grimes. Fuck, it felt great. “I just want to hold you,” he tried to assure Grimes.
Grimes squirmed out of his arms. “What? But I thought I’d convinced you sex was a good idea.”
“That was before I scared you.”
Grimes climbed on top of McKnight. “Oh, sir. I wasn’t scared of you. I was just a little nervous about what was going to happen next.” He wriggled until he was sitting on McKnight’s cock, which was starting to regain interest. “I wasn’t kidding about the three months being a long time, you know.”
McKnight groaned. The point had been made. No sex was a bad idea. But he still wanted to know…
“How do you kiss Linda?” he asked.
“Sir?”
“Show me how you kiss Linda and you can have all the sex you want.”
Grimes blushed. “It was only the one time, sir. All the other times are just on the cheek or whatever.”
“Show me. That’s an order.” Totally irrational order. What possible difference could it make to know exactly how Grimes kissed Linda? Except he needed to know.
Grimes took a deep breath. “We have to be standing.”
Okay. McKnight pushed Grimes off him and stood up.
“I was on a step,” Grimes said, so McKnight slouched.
“It was for show, okay? It won’t be the same, because when I kiss you it’s for real.”
“Stop stalling,” McKnight said. It was often best to give Grimes a little push, not too much.
Grimes licked his lips and leaned forward. His lips touched McKnight’s shyly at first. One hand was on McKnight’s waist, the other behind his head. All very proper so far. He had no idea why this would upset him. And then Grimes pressed a little harder and opened his mouth and his tongue flitted between McKnight’s lips. That was nice. And then his tongue pushed inside a little further, but still gently, and started to explore a bit. McKnight’s lips went soft of their own accord, and he opened more, taking more of Grimes’ tongue in his mouth.
Motherfucker. This was Grimes’ taking the lead, but not with a hard, frantic desperate kiss of passion. This was a kiss of seduction, and dominance. And he was doing it to McKnight. And McKnight was taking it – passively and enthusiastically. Fingers massaged the back of his neck, and then Grimes was licking his lips and, oh god, sucking and nibbling at the lower one.
Grimes withdrew, and McKnight realized he was rock hard again. Grimes was looking at him with a tentative expression, as if he expected McKnight to be upset with him.
McKnight uncrossed his eyes. “Okay,” he said.
“Okay, sir?”
McKnight focused his eyes on Grimes’ slightly swollen lips. “I meant, good boy.”
“Really?”
McKnight swallowed. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Very good boy. You can kiss me like that anytime you want.” And then he thought about it. “You kissed my sister like that?”
“Only once, sir. But I didn’t like it that much. And it wasn’t nearly as good as that.”
Right. Well, that would explain why Linda’s eyes had glazed over a bit when she said they’d had to put on a bit of a show pretending to be lovers at the fair.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“No, it’s fine,” McKnight said, and was a bit surprised that he meant it. If Grimes had really kissed Linda like that in public, then there would be no doubt in anyone’s mind that they were, indeed, lovers. And Grimes hadn’t liked it much. He’d said so himself.
The hot tension in the back of his skull flared up. But is wasn’t jealousy this time; it was guilt.
“Someone approached me,” McKnight said suddenly.
Grimes shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Approached you, sir?”
“Yeah, at a bar off base. I went outside for a smoke and I was thinking about you and I must have been putting out some kind of, I don’t know, hormones or something.”
Grimes’ eyes got wide. “You mean pheromones?”
“Whatever,” McKnight said. He hadn’t planned to tell Grimes. After all, nothing had happened. Not really. But for some reason… “He was young, and I guess you would call him pretty, and he offered to, um…” This was really hard. It was easy to say the filthiest things when he was actually having sex, but standing here clothed, even thought they were in the bedroom and Grimes had just given his tonsils a tongue lashing – or maybe because Grimes had just given his tonsils a tongue lashing – it was incredibly difficult.
Grimes sat down on the bed. “Go on,” he said, but he sounded like he didn’t really want to know.
McKnight forced himself to finish the story. “He offered to suck my cock.”
“Oh,” Grimes said blankly.
“Actually, he said he wanted to swallow my big fat dick.”
“How did he know you had a big fat dick?”
“I don’t know. I must have been hard. I said I was thinking about you.”
Grimes waited for the rest.
“I told him he had the wrong man.”
Grimes looked up.
“That’s all,” McKnight said. “He went away and I finished my cigarette and went back to base.”
Grimes looked down again. “Did you think about him when you jerked off later that night?”
McKnight stepped in front of Grimes. “No,” he said, “I thought about you. Only you. I thought about how much I wished it had been you in that parking lot. How you would take my hand and lead me to a car in the shadows, and I’d lean against it while you got on your knees in front of me and pulled my cock out of my pants. How good your mouth would feel, and how I’d finish my cigarette while you sucked me.”
Grimes leaned forward and mouthed McKnight’s semi-hard cock through his pants.
“And then I’d rub my cock all over your face.”
Grimes moaned against McKnight’s cock. He slid his hands up and let them squeeze McKnight’s thighs. “Mmm, can I swallow your big fat dick, sir?” he murmured.
“Fuck, yeah,” McKnight groaned. He let Grimes open his fly, but he pushed Grimes’ hand away so he could rub his cock all over Grimes’ face. Grimes stuck out his tongue and licked at McKnight greedily.
Oh, yeah. That whole no sex idea must have been some kind of a malfunction brought on by the jealousy and the guilt. Because this… this was what McKnight really wanted.
Grimes slid off the bed to his knees and gripped McKnight’s thighs. His tongue danced over the head of McKnight’s cock, and then his lips opened. “Suck my cock,” McKnight said involuntarily. “Take it all, that’s it. Good boy. Open wide. You ever suck a cock that big before, soldier? Ever had a fat cock like that down your throat? You’re a good little cocksucker, aren’t you?”
Grimes moaned and sucked and took McKnight to the back of his mouth. Jesus, it distorted his pretty face when Grimes opened his mouth that wide but he was beautiful. His eyes were shut tight, fingers clenched, throat moving around the head, shoulders shaking.
“Whoa,” McKnight said. “Just hold it there. Be a good boy, and take out your cock.”
Grimes did as he was told.
“Pretty little cock you’ve got there,” McKnight purred. He loved the way Grimes’ tongue pressed the underside of his cock when he said that. “Push those jeans down to your knees,” he ordered.
Grimes pushed the jeans down. McKnight leaned over Grimes head and could see the swell of Grimes’ naked ass. “Nice ass,” he commented casually. “Nice, round ass. I’d like to play with that ass. You think I can touch your ass?”
Grimes groaned around his cock.
“If you’re worried about someone seeing us, we can go to your place,” McKnight said. He was really getting off on the idea of Grimes sucking him out in the open like that. On Grimes approaching him the way that kid had outside the bar, all cocky and self-assured, like he knew what McKnight wanted. Of course, he hadn’t known. Only Grimes knew. “I can’t take you to the base. If I took you to the base, all the guys would want to fuck you.”
Grimes stopped sucking and looked up at McKnight.
McKnight petted his soft hair. “You’re all mine,” he assured Grimes. “Get up and bend over. I want to get a good look at that ass.”
Grimes pulled his mouth off McKnight’s cock. “You want me to lean over the car?” he asked, fully immersed in the role.
McKnight wished they really were outside in a parking lot. But this would do. He grabbed Grimes by the t-shirt, hauled him up and spun him around. His cock poked between Grimes’ asscheeks. “Something knows where it wants to be,” he teased.
Grimes wiggled his ass against McKnight’s cock. “Oh, yes, sir. Please, sir.”
He pushed Grimes down on the bed, and then yanked him so his knees were back on the floor, or near the floor, legs almost dangling.
McKnight pushed the t-shirt up and Grimes stretched his arms over his head, but McKnight stopped pushing when the shirt was around his elbows. “Don’t move,” he growled, and slid his hands down to Grimes’ ass.
God, yes. That ass. Upturned and pale and round and when McKnight pulled it apart like that he could see the asshole, small and most likely virgin tight. He straddled Grimes’ calves and pushed his face between the cheeks. Not so soapy and perfectly clean as he was used to. This was Grimes in his natural state. So good. He licked at the tight little hole and pushed Grimes’ cheeks together so he could sense nothing but Grimes’ ass and Grimes’ taste and Grimes’ moans.
“Ahhhhhhhh!” Grimes howled. Fuck, yeah. Grimes flailed under McKnight’s tongue and tried to straightened his legs, raising up on his toes. Some kind of yoga move, no doubt. Helpless under the assault.
It was cheating, of course – McKnight wouldn’t do this to some stranger in a parking lot. But since they weren’t strangers, and they had a bed, and Grimes was so fucking willing... he shoved his tongue inside as far as he could.
McKnight tried to remember where the lube was. He was all disoriented. He didn’t know what he would do in a situation like this in a parking lot. Hope the kid had lube and a condom, he supposed. He had to stop licking so he could lean to the side and open the drawer of the night table. Bingo. He flipped the cap open and squirted lube down the crack of Grimes’ ass.
“Ah, sir, you should have let me get ready for you,” Grimes panted.
No way. McKnight wanted to do that. He slicked up his fingers and slid one in. “My asshole, I get to prepare it,” he said. He added another finger. “You’re tight,” he observed. “Haven’t you put anything inside you, all this time?”
Grimes mumbled something.
“What?”
“I said ‘No, sir, I’ve mostly been practicing’, sir,” he said.
McKnight had almost forgotten about the yoga thing. Correction – he’d forced himself to forget, because after a couple of weeks of jerking off every night to the outrageous image of Grimes sucking his own cock, McKnight had actually begun to fear he might wear the skin off his dick. He’d had to scale back on that particular fantasy, if only to save his wrist from repetitive strain injury.
“Not tonight,” McKnight said. “Tonight…” he twisted three fingers inside Grimes’ ass and curled them, brushing over the little lump inside. Grimes clenched around him wildly.
“Fuck me, sir. Please, fuck me. Fuck me until I scream.”
The sex part of McKnight’s brain proclaimed triumph and howled with delight when McKnight sank his cock inside Grimes. McKnight ran his hands up and down Grimes’ back, feeling the tensed muscles and sweat-slick skin. He watched his cock stretch Grimes all the way open. Grimes flailed some more, stilling only when McKnight was fully sheathed and had splayed his fingers over Grimes’ ass.
McKnight played with Grimes’ ass, pressing into the fleshier parts, scratching lightly at the pale skin, pushing and pulling and making Grimes moan louder. This wouldn’t make him scream, but it was getting him ready to scream.
How could anyone want to hurt such a beautiful ass? How could anyone get off on causing harm to this skin and this flesh and this man? McKnight wanted to know. Or maybe he didn’t want to know.
Grimes was twisting on the bed, shoving his ass back onto McKnight’s cock, rubbing his own cock against the covers, grasping at air and moaning. Not quite screaming. Close, though. So close.
McKnight grabbed Grimes’ shoulders and yanked him up, one hand holding Grimes’ wrists above his head, the other curling around Grimes’ cock. “You like getting fucked out here in the parking lot, don’t you?” McKnight growled, for some reason holding onto the fantasy.
“Oh, God, yes, sir, please,” Grimes babbled.
McKnight jerked his hips and Grimes’ cock at the same time. “Then come all over this guy’s car.”
It wasn’t like McKnight really wanted Grimes to come on a stranger’s car. Not really. It was more ordering for the sake of ordering. Which turned out to be good, because Grimes was getting close to coming, and his already tight asshole tightened even more.
“Virgin tight,” McKnight growled. “What’s a virgin like you doing sucking big fat cocks in public? Don’t you know that’s dangerous?”
Grimes shuddered around him. “I was hoping,” he gasped, “a commanding officer might want to fuck my virgin ass, sir.”
Oh. They had to do this roleplaying thing more often. That was too perfect. McKnight roared a bit when he came. Grimes squeezed him tight and kept squeezing. It was pressure to the point of pain, but that was what McKnight really needed. He pulsed inside Grimes and ended up with a mouthful of t-shirt when he tried to bite Grimes’ neck.
Grimes was still hard when McKnight pulled out.
“Fuck,” McKnight said. “I wanted you to scream.”
Grimes wiggled his ass.
McKnight pushed Grimes down and shoved four fingers into him with ease. “You like getting fucked by your CO?”
“Yes, sir,” Grimes yelped as McKnight played with the rim of his asshole with his thumb.
“You think you can take a little more?”
“Ah ah ah!” Grimes squealed as the pad of McKnight’s thumb pressed into him.
McKnight’s thumb folded naturally against his palm. He had no desire to go past the knuckle, just a bit of a stretch. He’d seen pictures of fisting, and he didn’t much like the look of it. But damn, it would be nice to get as much as possible inside… He leaned over Grimes and whispered hoarsely. “I think you lied. I don’t think you’re a virgin at all, soldier. I think this ass gets fucked all the time.” He twisted his fingers a little.
“All the time, sir. By a big fat dick!” Grimes screamed. And then he came. Hard, squeezing McKnight’s fingers, slippery and smooth inside.
McKnight rested his head on Grimes’ shoulder. “Good boy,” he whispered. He waited until Grimes stopped clenching around his fingers before working them out, slowly, gently. He patted the stretched hole, and wiped his hand on the discarded sweatshirt. Grimes didn’t move. He stayed on the bed, t-shirt around his shoulders and head. McKnight pulled it off, and pulled the jeans off, even though he really liked the look of Grimes with his pants around his knees. He shucked his own clothes and put Grimes, who was limp like a rag doll, in the bed.
What a relief it was to pull the covers over them and to lie so close they touched all over. “I missed you every night,” he said against Grimes’ hair. “Fuck, John, I wanted you so bad. As if I could want anyone but you. When that kid… he came right up to me, and all I could think was that he was insulting you. I wanted to hurt him for insulting you.”
Grimes sighed. “You didn’t, sir.” He turned around and put his arms around McKnight. “We’re going to have to be more careful.”
“I know.”
“We can’t be seen together.”
McKnight kissed him. “Fine with me. We’ll stay indoors, where we can do whatever we want.”
“But it’s not just about sex, right, sir?”
McKnight kissed him again. It wasn’t just about sex. Even when they were in the middle of sex it wasn’t only about sex.
That was the only solution.
Back to Soldier Porn
Continued in 43 Just Sex
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