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Title: The Present
Rating: NC-17 – yet more serious masturbation.
Disclaimer: Not the movie, not the real guys, not intended to infringe on anything but the bounds of decency.
Summary: Lessons.
The Present
It bothered Grimes that McKnight did not seem to take pleasure in touching himself.
McKnight viewed his body as a means to an end – a tool he to take care of. He did PT and ate nutritious food and got as much sleep as he could. He hardly ever smoked now, and very rarely around Grimes – something that caused a rush of hot blood between Grimes’ legs whenever he thought about it, because the reason he rarely smoked around Grimes was because Grimes took care of McKnight’s oral fixation.
But that oral fixation, along with his hard cock thrusting into a hot place, was the only thing McKnight took pleasure in for its own sake.
No, that was an exaggeration. He enjoyed lots of other things. He enjoyed getting a massage. He liked touching Grimes. He certainly enjoyed Grimes touching him. But those activities were often integral with the oral fixation and the hard cock inside hot places.
So he enjoyed doing things with it, and kept it strong enough to do the things he needed it to do – to play football, to work construction, to go through basic training, to put through whatever rigors the army required of it – no questions asked, no doubts or fears, although there might have been a slight insecurity about being too bulky to appeal to some people, an anxiety easily soothed, or at least Grimes thought it should be, by the knowledge that his body’s very bulkiness was what enabled it to do all those things.
Grimes thought about this a lot, which left him in a perpetual state of what could only be described as heat. In fact, one day he found himself straddling the arm of McKnight’s chair and rubbing. The cat was sitting by the fireplace watching him intently. Grimes had to stop due to embarrassment.
That’s what thinking about McKnight’s body did to Grimes. Because McKnight’s body was not only what allowed him to play football and lift heavy things and be a soldier – it was what made him a commanding officer.
Solid. Big. Naturally dominant. If he had one of those gym-toned bodies with a slender waist and out-of-proportion shoulders he wouldn’t be nearly so imposing. McKnight’s body was real. It was the way it was because of the things McKnight did, and they weren’t done so McKnight would look a certain way; they were done so McKnight could get things done.
Heavy shoulders and wide back and stocky torso. Thick, strong legs – firm, meaty… Mmm. Firm and meaty reminded Grimes of McKnight’s cock. Now that, Grimes was sure, was what had attracted that first kneeling man, the one to whom Grimes would forever be indebted because he had been the one to enlighten McKnight as to his naturally dominant character. You could just tell McKnight had a big cock, and when that kid had actually seen it Grimes was sure he hadn’t been easy not to come right away. McKnight had the best cock ever.
The first time Grimes had seen it he’d thought he was imagining it. No cock could be that big around, with a head that fat and beautiful and a foreskin that… beautiful. But it was real. And when Grimes got his mouth on it, it had been even better. What a stretch. Grimes had sucked a few cocks but none had given him so much pleasure, just to hold it in his mouth and move his lips and tongue around it, to feel it swell and to feel McKnight’s fingers tighten in his hair, to sense his whole body tense and release. And the taste – 100% man.
The heavy shoulders and wide back and stocky torso and strong legs and fat cock made Grimes want so much, and McKnight liked using his body to make Grimes want, but Grimes wanted even more.
The problem was not that McKnight didn’t enjoy sex with Grimes. He enjoyed it immensely. And as often as possible. Maybe even too often. But it was Grimes he was enjoying, and Grimes wanted him to enjoy himself too. He felt greedy about that. Greedy and horny. The more he thought about it, the hornier he got. That would please McKnight, but it wasn’t quite what Grimes was after.
Then he figured out how to get what he wanted.
Grimes was waiting in the hall when McKnight got home. He loved to wait in the hall for McKnight. McKnight loved it too. He gave Grimes a huge smile that made his eyes sparkle, and then darken a bit with intensity. McKnight’s eyes could get very intense when they looked at Grimes. Especially when Grimes was waiting for him in the hall.
McKnight put his hands on either side of Grimes’ face and kissed him. Softly. Grimes melted a little.
“Happy birthday, John,” McKnight said without taking his lips away. Grimes licked them, enticing McKnight’s tongue back into his mouth.
They did not buy gifts for birthdays. They didn’t like the idea of having to buy something; it seemed crass. When they wanted to get something for the other person, they just got it. Birthdays were for a different kind of present.
On McKnight’s last birthday, Grimes had given him an all-night tongue bath. He’d done some research and found this slightly bitter health food drink that was supposed to improve your digestion. Grimes didn’t have any problems with his digestion, but one sip of the drink made his mouth water like crazy, and a carefully rationed intake had allowed him to keep licking wetly until McKnight could not come any more.
Tonight would be different. Tonight it was Grimes’ birthday.
“You want to go out for dinner?”
Now that was rare. When they went out, Linda usually came along. The idea of being out with McKnight alone, with people around, was heady.
“No,” Grimes said quickly, “I bought steak.” They were marinating. The potatoes were already baking.
McKnight kissed his forehead. “You know I’m not ashamed… you know, if I could, I’d be so proud.”
Grimes started to melt again.
“Twenty-eight years old,” McKnight murmured against his hair. “How are we going to celebrate that?” I don’t think I can make you come twenty-eight times…”
Grimes clutched McKnight’s shoulders and arched. “I really should make dinner,” he moaned.
He wanted McKnight well-fed. Rested, fed, clean, comfortable. Content. Maybe he should give him a blow job in the hall to get him relaxed. No, best to proceed as planned. Dinner. Shower. Maybe drinks, but not health food drinks.
Grimes ate with McKnight at the table these days, usually slithering down during dessert or coffee when the mood struck. It did not strike tonight. Grimes ate all his food and offered McKnight a bourbon and they enjoyed each other’s company, even though McKnight looked a little confused. Grimes even refrained from saying ‘sir’ too often. He didn’t want McKnight in a dominant mood.
Like it was possible for McKnight to ever not be dominant.
McKnight went along with everything. Grimes could tell he was being humored. Maybe McKnight thought that what Grimes wanted for his birthday was to pretend that everything was normal between them, and they were just like any other loving, committed, sexually-active couple, and did not have this special relationship. That was okay. Let him think that, Grimes thought.
They kissed and groped a little in the shower, and took their time drying each other, and then they went to bed. All very normal and loving and not overly sexually active. Yet.
Grimes hung his bathrobe on the back of the door and untied the belt at McKnight’s waist. “I want you to lie on the bed on your back,” he said. This was how Grimes was comfortable with taking control and ordering McKnight to do something. He would say ‘I want…’ and then it was up to McKnight to decide to do it or not. McKnight usually did it.
McKnight dropped his robe on the floor and lay in the middle of the bed.
Grimes knelt beside him on the big bed, feeling very small. He wasn’t a tiny guy, but he was smaller than McKnight. Even when his cock was fully hard he wasn’t as wide as McKnight was when he was only half hard. And McKnight was half hard. Not rigid, but not limp either. His cock, when it was like that, made Grimes think of a sleeping beast.
Grimes was hard – all the way hard – and that made McKnight’s attention wander down, so Grimes pushed his erection down between his thighs and clamped them together tightly.
God, that felt good.
McKnight’s eyebrow quirked up.
“Later,” Grimes explained. “I want you to touch yourself.”
“Didn’t we do this already?” McKnight asked. It had been a couple of weeks since the jerking off incident.
“Yeah, but I want you to touch yourself all over, the way I touched myself.”
McKnight’s eyes widened. Had Grimes demanded too much?
“I’ll help,” Grimes said. And then he leaned close to McKnight’s ear and said the one thing that would assure compliance. “Do it for me, Danny. Please.”
McKnight groaned and grabbed Grimes’ bicep. “Tell me what to do.”
Grimes sat straight up, very pleased with himself. First hurdle over. His eyes roamed up and down McKnight’s bulk. Where to start? “Touch your nipples.”
Damn. McKnight was already hesitating.
Fine. Grimes said he’d help; he would help. He placed McKnight’s hands on his chest, nipples centered under palms. “Feel them.” He moved McKnight’s hands in little circles. He remembered what McKnight had done for him. “You take the right,” Grimes said. He wiggled his thumb under McKnight’s left palm. “I’ll do this side.”
McKnight shifted his hand and circled his nipple with his thumb.
“You’re pressing too hard, sir. Lightly. That’s it. I know you like it when I lick you there.” McKnight’s mouth fell open. “Here. This will help.” He guided McKnight’s thumb to his mouth and gasped when McKnight licked it all around. How could he have forgotten what the sight of McKnight’s tongue did to him? He’d never be able to maintain control of the action if this kept up.
McKnight lowered his thumb and started circling again. He sighed.
Grimes put his own thumb in McKnight’s mouth, but McKnight didn’t just lick it. He sucked it so skillfully it made Grimes’ cock whimper between his thighs. Or so Grimes imagined. That was the oral fixation raising its gorgeous head.
Finally, McKnight had two spit-slicked thumbs caressing his nipples. “Can you feel that in your cock, sir?” Grimes always felt it in his cock whenever McKnight went at his nipples.
McKnight did not seem to be able to speak.
“Now slide your hand up.” McKnight did, and Grimes did, and McKnight’s fingers jerked. He’d got the scar side. He wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t opposed to scars or anything, but it was sort of like a flaw, or maybe a reminder. “No, over here.” Grimes took McKnight by the wrist and guided his fingers to the smooth side of his neck. He helped him stroke down the neck, across the collarbone, to the deltoid.
“John.”
“Shh.” Grimes spread his legs enough for his cock to spring up. He put McKnight’s free hand on it. “Just hold onto me with that hand, sir. It’ll ground you.”
The fingers tightened around Grimes’ cock and McKnight let out a steady breath.
Grimes started to move McKnight’s other hand all over. “Feel the bulge of that muscle in your shoulder. I like to hold onto that when you fuck me.” McKnight squeezed both his own shoulder and Grimes’ cock. Grimes moved the hand down again, around nipples again, and then down past his chest to his waist.
McKnight resisted.
“Sir.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“It doesn’t turn me on.”
“It turns me on,” Grimes purred, “to see your hand there.” He shifted it to one side. “All the muscle there goes so hard when you sit up to kiss me when I’m on your lap. Haven’t you noticed how I sneak my hands down there?”
McKnight brought his shoulders up off the bed. He explored the solid muscles, the contours of his waist, the line of his hip, like he’d never touched himself there before.
He must have. You have to touch your body – to dress it, to wash it, to check for injuries. Everyone has to touch their body some time. To not take pleasure in it was unimaginable. Grimes liked to touch his own body. He liked the feel of hands on his skin, and if he couldn’t have McKnight’s hands he was happy to use his own. He wasn’t going to demand that McKnight suddenly start touching himself on a regular basis and loving it, but he wanted him to do it at least once.
The hand on his cock did not move. McKnight held on firmly, but not painfully. The other hand, without Grimes helping it at all, circled McKnight’s navel, traveled around a bit, up and down, across unfamiliar terrain. It bumped against his cock. McKnight moaned, bent his legs, trailed his fingers up his inner thigh. Better than anything Grimes could have hoped for.
Grimes stroked the other thigh lightly and watched McKnight’s cock swell. The thigh muscles went rock hard.
“John.”
“You can touch your cock now, sir.”
McKnight cupped his balls instead. “I’m gonna come.”
“That’s good, sir; I’m going to lick it up.”
“Fuck!” McKnight grabbed his cock roughly.
“No, sir. Be gentle with yourself.” He would have said ‘love yourself’, but that might have been going too far.
Grimes put no stock in that old “you can’t love anyone until you love yourself” bullshit. He knew it wasn’t true, because McKnight did not recognize loving himself as a necessity, or perhaps even a possibility, but he loved Grimes with a passion that burned.
McKnight loosened his grip and made a little choking sound. “Help me,” he said. His eyes looked almost scared.
Grimes smiled. This part his had planned for from the very beginning. “Jerk me off too, sir.”
McKnight relaxed his shoulders. He assumed the perfect masturbatory grip on both of them. Not so punishing as when he jerked off alone. He used his wrists to add twists and changes in angle. He was magically ambidextrous and Grimes gave himself up to it fully.
“Oh, yes, sir,” Grimes groaned. “Your hands. I love your hands. Feel how strong they are. Feel how gentle, how firm.” Talented. Skilled. Sexy. Seductive. Manly. The words tumbled through Grimes’ head but all that came out after that was helpless, open-mouthed, formless and utterly heartfelt.
This was almost too good to be true. Grimes ran his hands up his torso and let McKnight see him touch himself on the chest. McKnight growled and told him to pinch his nipples. Grimes whimpered a little as he did. He wasn’t used to touching himself while McKnight watched, but he figured he was setting a good example. Plus, McKnight’s hands were both busy on their cocks. There weren’t enough hands. Damn.
Grimes felt himself peak. His balls got tight, his cock grew to the edge of pain, his thighs shook. McKnight grunted and shoved his hips up and came, only seconds before Grimes. He kept his hands moving, drawing it out for both of them.
Grimes fell on top of McKnight. So fucking good when they did it together. They slid together and McKnight grunted. “Need another shower now.”
“I could lick it up,” Grimes offered.
“Mmm,” McKnight rumbled. He reached over the side of the bed and found the edge of his robe. “This’ll do.” He wiped between them. Grimes viewed that as a bit of a waste, but he didn’t protest. It was luxurious to feel McKnight’s hand through the terry of the robe, the slightly rough surface making his skin tingle. McKnight wiped him carefully, and planted little kisses on his chest and his shoulders and jaw. Then he pushed Grimes over on his side and plastered himself behind him, so they were pressed together, Grimes’ back to McKnight’s front. McKnight’s top arm held Grimes. Grimes felt perfect.
“It’s your birthday, John” McKnight said. Warm arm tickled the back of Grimes’ neck. “Why’d you give me the present?”
“It was what I wanted most of all,” Grimes answered. And then he whispered, “Danny.”
Next: 49 The Past
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