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Title: Jerking Off
Rating: NC-17 – serious masturbation.
Warning: I have made jerking off romantic. *hangs head * (Grimes and McKnight have turned me into a total girl.)
Disclaimer: Not the movie, not the real guys, not intended to infringe on anything but the bounds of decency.
Summary: McKnight likes to order Grimes to give him what he wants. And Grimes has a knack for doing the same as well. Or even better.
Jerking Off
Grimes lay on his back with one bent arm flung above his head and the other resting across his stomach. His eyes were closed but he was not sleeping. McKnight knew that because he’d ordered Grimes to close his eyes.
Grimes’ eyes were too much of a distraction. McKnight wanted to look at all of Grimes, head to toe, but if Grimes were to open his eyes McKnight would be mesmerized. That was a plain fact. It wasn’t McKnight exaggerating or being romantic. Those eyes had him, and they never let go, so sometimes McKnight had to tell Grimes to close them. Like now, when Grimes was naked and lying on his back and being so perfectly still and obedient and open to whatever McKnight told him to do. McKnight was in charge, and he could tell Grimes to do anything, but if Grimes opened his eyes McKnight would look into them and stare and get lightheaded and not be in charge anymore.
With the eyes closed, it was hard to decide what to look at. There was so much - slender legs and flat stomach and the chest with its ginger hair and curves of muscle and little flat nipples. There was the line of Grimes’ jaw, so determined even at rest. There were his hips, which McKnight knew led to his ass, which was something else he was glad he couldn’t see because Grimes’ ass did things to McKnight’s self-control.
(It was perfect now. Even more perfect than it used to be. Grimes had been healthy and eating well and taking care of himself and doing that fucking yoga for so long, he’d even put on a little weight. Healthy weight. Fucking perfect weight. God, his ass slayed McKnight. Made him drool.)
McKnight looked at the eyes. Closed but not tightly. Gingery lashes. Soft, thin skin of the lids fluttering just a bit. McKnight wondered what Grimes was picturing in his mind. He was probably picturing the way McKnight was looking at him, all greedy and hungry and fuck! He couldn’t look at Grimes’ eyes when they were closed either.
He looked at Grimes’ hair, silky and splayed out on the pillow wantonly, glowing a little bit red in the light from the candles that Grimes had lit, steady hands lighting the match and holding it to the wicks carefully. He had nice hands. Good size, good shape, not too delicate, maybe even a little blunt, but not meaty like McKnight’s hands. Veins stood out on the back enough to make McKnight want to lick them, and there was a dusting of very masculine hair that contrasted well with the manicure. Nails trimmed and smooth and perfect. Neat. And cleaner than McKnight’s hands could ever be.
There was something about those clean clean hands doing dirty things…
“Touch your nipple,” McKnight blurted out.
Grimes opened his eyes lazily. “Sir?”
“Touch yourself. Touch your nipple.”
“Which nipple?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Grimes slid his hand up from his stomach to his nipple, right hand to the left nipple. McKnight sat on the edge of the bed to Grimes’ left, so he had a close-up view. The fingertips rested on the flat nipple. Grimes was awaiting further orders. He was probably smirking a bit too, but McKnight kept his eyes trained on the nipple. It was the only safe way to do this – safe in this case meaning controlled.
“Do you touch your nipples when you jerk off?” McKnight asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Every time?”
“No, sir.”
No. Not always. Grimes liked variety too much. McKnight already knew that, but the interrogation aspect of this was too much fun to ignore - to ask such personal questions and get such honest answers. “What do you like about it?”
Grimes’ fingers twitched. “I like… imagining it’s your hands on my chest.”
Oh, that was a good answer. Such a good answer. A-plus on that one, McKnight thought. “Touch the other one.”
Grimes moved his hand across, and McKnight placed his fingers on the newly exposed nipple. “Show me.”
McKnight couldn’t help noting that Grimes’ cock had started to go from soft, lying on his thigh limply, to much less soft as the orders added up.
Grimes circled his forefinger around his nipple.
McKnight copied his actions on the other nipple.
“Oh, sir,” Grimes whispered and closed his eyes again. McKnight knew that because even with the mouth-watering sight of Grimes touching his own nipple right there, right in front of him, his eyes had been darting up to check on Grimes’ eyes. Fucking eyes. You couldn’t trust them to stay on target all the time. Not with a distraction like that so close by.
The left nipple hardened under McKnight’s fingertip. He could feel every little bump and the larger bump in the middle as they stiffened.
Grimes brought his thumb and forefinger together with the nipple between them.
McKnight pinched also.
Grimes let go of his nipple and raised his finger and thumb to his mouth and licked them. He continued the circling and pinching, only with more sliding and a tiny moan.
McKnight decided to hell with imitation when the real thing is a foot away. He let go of the nipple and lowered his mouth to it and circled with his tongue.
Grimes gasped, which was as good as the little moan, if not better. He tugged his right nipple a little, and McKnight had positioned his head so he could see what Grimes was doing to the other nipple, even if it was a little blurry, because he wanted to do whatever Grimes did. He couldn’t lick harder, so he sucked.
“Yesssss,” Grimes hissed. There was more pinching and sucking, and then Grimes twisted his nipple and McKnight didn’t quite know how to duplicate that with his lips.
So he bit.
Grimes hips rose up and his ass cleared the bed by at least a couple of inches. His cock was all the way hard now. McKnight worked his lips around the nipple for a little while longer before letting go. “What comes next?” he asked.
“Me, sir,” Grimes answered.
McKnight bit the nipple again. Punishment for a bad pun. Reward for being such a good boy. “Show me,” he said again.
Grimes slid his hand down, scratching across his belly, and curled his fingers around his cock. “You really want me to jerk off?” he asked.
“I’m ordering it, aren’t I?”
“It’s not the same every time, sir.”
“Any time will do. I just want to watch.” Not really. He wanted to participate.
Grimes began a slow, steady stroking. “I imagine it’s you touching me,” he said.
McKnight put his hand on Grimes’ thigh. “And where do you like me to touch you?”
“Oh… anywhere, sir.”
McKnight put his hand over Grimes’ kneecap. It was a nice enough kneecap, but McKnight didn’t find it very erotic. Grimes probably wasn’t all that sensitive at the front either. McKnight slipped his fingers around the back and got a little purr. His fingers tripped lightly up Grimes’ inner thigh. “I like touching you.”
Grimes spread his thighs.
McKnight hesitated, fingers just below Grimes’ balls. He loved Grimes’ balls, as much as he loved the rest of Grimes. They were big, heavy. Then swayed when McKnight fucked him, and sometimes they slapped against McKnight’s balls, sometimes hard enough to hurt but never hard enough to make McKnight stop fucking him. McKnight liked the texture of the skin and the hair and the way the testicles moved under the skin when he touched and squeezed.
Grimes’ cock was beautiful too, slender but not skinny and with a graceful curve and a beautifully-shaped head and a drop of pre-come at the little slit. The skin there was soft, too soft. McKnight could taste it and feel it on his tongue just from looking at it. McKnight’s mouth watered.
Grimes’ hand kept working his cock, up and down, firm but not squeezing.
“Where do you want me to touch you?” McKnight asked.
“Inside.” Grimes spread his legs more and bent his knees. “Touch me inside, please.” His balls hung down and McKnight had to tilt his head over Grimes’ thigh to see the dark crevice and even darker puckers of his hole.
Lube. He needed lube. Aw, fuck lube. Lube was on the other side of the bed. McKnight stuck his forefinger in his mouth and made it really wet.
Grimes shuddered at the first gentle touch of McKnight’s moist fingertip. McKnight pressed and watched his finger go inside. The tight ring of muscle didn’t resist at all. It stayed tight, snug around McKnight’s finger, but made no effort to close or push him out.
Grimes’ hand sped up.
“I like touching you inside,” McKnight said, keeping his voice low and steady, with enough of a growl to make Grimes whimper. “So tight, so soft.”
Grimes made a tense noise.
McKnight wiggled his finger inside, deeper. He pushed it in and moved it until he brushed over the harder bump inside.
Grimes made a helpless cry. His hand was slapping his belly on every down stroke. His other hand came down to cup his balls.
Watching Grimes fondle his own balls was an exercise in self control. McKnight was touching in one place only, with only one finger, and that was inside. All his other fingers itched to touch those balls, feel the wiry hair and wrinkled soft skin. They were intensely jealous of Grimes’ fingers, which stroked over his balls and pressed against them.
“Your little hole is so tight around my finger.”
Said little hole clenched tighter, pulling the finger deeper.
“I love the way your hole squeezes me.”
Grimes bore down on the finger.
“God, you love getting fucked, don’t you? Don’t stop jerking off!”
“Sir! Why do I… why… why am I jerking off when you could fuck.. fuck me?”
Why, indeed? McKnight wanted everything. He wanted to know everything about Grimes. He wanted to know every detail of how he jerked off, from how he gripped his cock to how he handled his balls to what noise he made when he made himself come. Of course, McKnight had seen Grimes jerk off lots of times. He’d watched him touch himself, and fuck himself with his fingers, and make himself come. But every time McKnight watched Grimes, he learned more about Grimes. And with everything he learned about Grimes, he was able to picture Grimes more vividly when he was away.
Also, it was fucking hot to watch Grimes jerk off like that.
“Because I ordered you to jerk off,” McKnight answered.
Grimes’ hand moved even faster.
McKnight wanted so badly to help, to cover the smooth darkened head of Grimes’ cock with his mouth and suck. But he was already helping too much with that one little finger embedded in his asshole. McKnight wanted the authentic experience of watching Grimes jerk off on his own, and he had tampered with the experiment enough already.
But a little verbal aid would be allowed.
“Let me see you come. You gonna come for me, be a good boy and come? Your asshole is so hot and tight. I can imagine my cock in you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My cock up your ass.”
He didn’t have to keep it up for long. Grimes twisted and arched and shot off with a groan.
McKnight hadn’t quite seen everything yet. He felt greedy for always wanting more. Greedy and hard. “Show me how you clean yourself after you jerk off.”
Grimes had his hand pressing flat over his still-twitching cock. He dragged the other hand through the shiny puddle on his stomach. He lifted glistening fingers to his lips.
Demonstration over. McKnight lunged, a little too late to catch the fingers in his mouth so he kissed around them, sharing the flavor. Grimes brought his other wet hand up and slid the wet fingers into McKnight’s mouth without breaking the kiss.
Motherfucker. That was good. McKnight knew that when Grimes jerked off he pretended the come he was tasting was McKnight’s. Goddamn to sexy for words, the way he sucked and lapped at his own fingers.
“Goddamn, John, you’re gonna make me come in my pants.”
McKnight now regretted his decision to keep all his clothes on after telling Grimes to strip and lie on the bed. There were a lot of situations in which a BDU was perfectly reasonable attire, ideal even; this was not one of them.
He slid down and licked the matted hair on Grimes’ stomach. Delicious. And he loved the way the muscles twitched under the skin, and the layer of softness there, under the skin, before the muscles, just a little padding, enough to prove Grimes was healthy and fit and McKnight was taking good care of him. Perfect. McKnight planted a wet kiss on the tip of Grimes’ cock, making Grimes yelp. He pulled his finger out of Grimes, making him yelp again.
McKnight got up and stood beside the bed, enjoying how relaxed Grimes looked. He started to unbutton his shirt.
“Sir, do you want me to suck your cock?”
Grimes always said stuff like that in such a straightforward, matter-of-fact way, the way he might have asked his commanding officer if he wanted a report filed. That made it more exciting for McKnight.
“You know I do.”
Grimes closed his eyes and sighed ever so slightly. It was obvious he was drowsy, and had been enjoying a nice, post-orgasmic haze, but he would serve nonetheless.
McKnight had only had time to unbutton to just below his sternum, but getting naked didn’t seem so urgent anymore. Not being greedy was more urgent. He dropped to the bed and plastered his still-uniformed body against Grimes.
Grimes gurgled helplessly. The touch of uniform against his naked skin always did that to him.
“What do you want?” McKnight breathed in his ear.
“I want to suck your cock, sir.”
Of course. Grimes was always amenable to sucking cock. That question was, what did he want even more?
“I changed my mind. Tell me what you really want.” McKnight punctuated the order with a little nip to Grimes’ ear.
Grimes stammered. “To… to make you come, sir.”
“That’s too obvious. Go deeper.”
Grimes pressed his face against McKnight’s neck and licked the scar. “I want,” he began, but he stopped.
McKnight pulled away and cupped Grimes’ chin, forcing him to look into McKnight’s eyes.
The eyes. Fuck, the eyes. So shy. So boyish. Such luminous eyes.
“Please, John.”
“I want… I’d like to know how you jerk off when I’m not with you.”
McKnight studied the wording of that. When I’m not with you. Grimes had seen McKnight beat off, too. He’d seen him jerk off onto Grimes, and the floor and several other surfaces, from which Grimes would make a show of licking up the come, spreading his tongue wide and moving his lips sensually. So the real question was, what did McKnight do when Grimes wasn’t there to lick up the mess?
“What do you want to know?” McKnight asked. He didn’t want this to be too easy for Grimes.
Grimes blinked. “Do you touch your nipples?”
Never.
“No,” McKnight answered.
“Do you touch your balls?”
“No.”
“What do you do?”
That was hard to answer. It wasn’t so much what McKnight did as what he felt when he did it. To start with, he didn’t jerk off all that often when he was away. The first few times he’d had to leave Grimes at home, he’d done it every chance he could. He’d missed the constant sex and the way Grimes was always there to take care of him. But after a while it wasn’t about missing the sex as much as it was about missing Grimes, and he didn’t need the sex that much.
To be honest, no one needed the amount of sex he got when he was with Grimes. It was a fucking gift every day, every night, and McKnight would never stop feeling grateful for it. He got erections when he was away – everyone gets erections – but it didn’t feel right to use his hand to do something that valuable without Grimes there. If he had his way, he would only ever come with Grimes for the rest of his life.
So when he was away, he missed Grimes. He missed him, and he needed him, and he purposefully let the need build up inside. He treasured it, savored the craving until he could not deny it one second more.
“I don’t do it that often. There isn’t that much privacy on training missions, and it’s awkward.” That was a bit of a lie. He was a fucking full Colonel. If he really wanted personal space he could have it. He could order the whole fucking battalion to take a twelve mile hike in the pouring rain if he felt like it. But still.
“I don’t take my clothes off. And I don’t imagine anything particular happening. I don’t do it that much, and by the time I do, I’m missing you and want you so much it doesn’t take much to finish the job.”
Grimes’ eyes were bright. “Show me,” he whispered.
McKnight wasn’t certain he could. Sure, he was hard. He couldn’t not be hard after watching that. But he needed to be more than hard to jerk off, and it had only been that morning that he’d woken to the feel of soft lips on his half-hard cock, and opened his eyes to see Grimes snuggled against him, and felt Grimes’ fully-hard cock pressing against his ankle. Grimes had his eyes closed and a look of intense concentration on his face as he sucked McKnight hard and then some. One of the best parts of it, after the pure fucking bliss of coming inside Grimes’ mouth, had been the ticklish sensation of Grimes licking his own come off McKnight’s ankles.
Motherfucker. Okay, he could do it now. He was hard enough and desperate enough, and he stretched out next to Grimes.
“I do…” Shit. This wasn’t easy. But Grimes had shown him, so it was only fair form him to show Grimes. “I don’t really imagine specifics, but I do like to be on top.”
Grimes grinned at him. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I mean physically.” McKnight turned on his side and a little further, lifting his weight up on one arm. He unbuttoned his fly and fished out his cock and motherfuck, this was just like when he finally gave into his need after days of thinking about Grimes, feeding his desire. Except Grimes was right there, right now. With a little lube, he could slip right inside. Grimes wouldn’t complain. But that wouldn’t be fair. Instead, McKnight held himself up, hovering approximately Grimes’ pelvis height above the surface of the bed, like he always did. He grabbed his cock and jerked almost brutally.
It wasn’t about making himself feel good. He couldn’t, in a million years, make himself feel half as good as Grimes made him feel, so he never bothered to try. This was about pure, animal release. He grunted as he jerked off, eyes shut tight, and thought of what he always thought of when he jerked off.
Grimes’ eyes.
“Danny!”
McKnight opened his eyes and there they were, right in front of him, wide and startled and smoky blue, lashes dark, pupils small and bright. He couldn’t look at them. He shifted his gaze and saw Grimes licking his lips, tasting his come and McKnight’s mouth. He crushed their mouths together and came hard, spurting against Grimes’ hip, then over Grimes’ softened cock when Grimes moved further under him.
McKnight felt that same jolt of release, hot and swirling, that same rush to his head, that same sense of relief. And he collapsed the same way he always did, because somehow at that moment the limbs and muscles holding him up weren’t really his for a few seconds.
Grimes groaned when McKnight’s weight sank onto him, but he wouldn’t let McKnight pull away. He put his arms around McKnight’s broad back and hooked a calf over McKnight’s leg and held tight.
“Oh, thank you, sir. It was better than I could have imagined.”
That it was. McKnight was completely drained. Not only from the orgasm. He’d just revealed his greatest weakness – his utter need for Grimes. It was his Achilles’ heel, and that was not something a soldier reveals lightly.
And now Grimes knew that it was not the same when he was not there. There was no pleasure in it, no thrill. It was like having to piss or shit or sleep. It was a need that could not be denied. It was Grimes that made sex good for McKnight, not sex.
McKnight gripped Grimes’ shoulders and exhaled. How long had he been holding that in?
Forever.
Grimes was hard again, wriggling a bit, cock sliding against McKnight’s stomach, sliding in McKnight’s come. He’d want to be fucked after that.
There was no way. It wasn’t from lack of desire. It was supremely flattering, that his raw exposed need would make this beautiful man want to be fucked. McKnight didn’t think that Grimes had missed the significance of the act, and he certainly did not begrudge him his desire. But there was no way on earth McKnight could get hard again.
He would have to use his fingers.
Four of them, as it turned out, with Grimes’ legs spread wide and his cock deep in McKnight’s mouth and his hands running across the short hair on McKnight’s scalp and his voice harsh in the night.
McKnight twisted his fingers and stroked all around, almost slipping out, teasing the tight entrance, plunging inside again, feeling Grimes get hotter and closer. He moved his mouth down the side of Grimes’ cock and licked the skin of his balls, drawn tight, ready to come. He mouthed a testicle and let Grimes scratch his shoulder.
“Oh, oh, oh,” Grimes moaned, as if McKnight had just slid his cock in.
McKnight lifted his mouth off Grimes. “You are such a good boy when I fuck your ass.”
Grimes let out a sound like a hiss but harder.
“Jerk off,” McKnight ordered.
Grimes jerked off. McKnight caught the head between his lips and swirled his tongue around. This time, McKnight would taste him fresh. Grimes drew his legs up to his chest and pushed against McKnight’s hand. McKnight held his lips loosely around the crown and flattened his tongue to the bottom of his mouth so he could feel the come hit the roof.
Now that was the way he liked Grimes to jerk off!
After a while sucking gently and listening to Grimes whimper, he crawled up the bed.
“You’re still in uniform, sir.”
“I’m still the commanding officer.”
“Yes, but…”
Grimes wanted him naked. He shucked his uniform and pulled the blanket over them and pulled Grimes on top of him.
“So much better when we do it together, Danny,” Grimes murmured against his throat.
McKnight could not have agreed more.
Next: 48 The Present
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