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Chapter Two ~ Learning the Points of the Compass Again
by fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
at September 29th, 2006 (10:46 am)

continued from here.


...not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves.



Bank the fire he’s building in my sacrum with measured breaths that rise and rise until his rough whisper stills them for a long moment and I lean up to study the glistening swell of his mouth, the dark crescent of lashes that fringe his half-closed eyes. Feel my cock jump as he licks his lips and swallows; cup his chin in my palm and trace his bottom lip with my thumb.

“It begins,” I tell him, sitting up as I outline the curve of his mouth with my fingertips, pressing my legs against his shoulders, urging him to mirror me, “with balance.”

I guide him as he repositions himself to face me, and relax into the tremulous joy of looking at his body. He links his ankles behind my back as I pull close to him, my smaller thighs resting on his bone-heavy ones. Feel a fresh jolt of pleasure as our hard cocks bounce against one another and lean in to press my mouth on his collarbone.

Map a side trip of kisses along his jaw and cheek, feel the planes of his skull in my hand as I pull his face to mine and rest my brow against his. The scent of my body on his breath, such a narcissistic and decadent pleasure, makes me smile, breathe deeper.

“It begins,” I tell him truthfully, “like this.”





I watch him. Looking at me. I try not to wonder what he sees. Those sky blue eyes and there is nothing that can be hidden here. Nothing that can be removed or redone or covered up.

Just me and just him.

Shadows from the fire dance over his chest. There is a sparkle here and there from water droplets that cling and I have to clamp down on the urge to sit up and taste them all. One by one. He wants me here, and so I stay.

Then he's over me, on me. His cock brushing and bumping mine and my fingers dig into the covers for a moment, then I give in and give up and reach for his shoulders. Light touches that dance over his skin, the scratch of my nails. My legs a little tighter around his hips.

I stretch blindly with one arm for the nightstand and grab a tube. Bring it back to us and I've almost squeezed it on my palm when I realize that it is blood red, brick red. Dark red. Not lube, but oil paint. The scent is so heavy in my room that I ...

I toss it off to the side and reach again. Find the lighter plastic tube I was looking for and I coat my palm. My fingers moving between us, I grab our cocks and roll them together in tight, quick movements.

"Fuck me, TJ. I want to feel you inside me."

I want to see his face when he comes in me, over me. I want to see him lose, perhaps, a modicum of the control he holds himself so tightly under. Just a bit. Just enough to let me know that I exist. That I've touched him. Somehow, somewhere.

"Please."

Comments

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 03:59 pm (UTC)

He looks at me with such dark hunger that it makes my face flush, heat rising fast with the friction of his touch. There’s so much of him to discover, from earlobes to toes and back and yet he is open, ready to fast forward.

A song line drifts through my mind and I smile, slip my tongue into his mouth and kiss him slowly. Sampling textures, learning the soft, slippery contours of his mouth. Pull back to skim the tip of my tongue across the profile of his bite, straight and perfect except for a slight indentation where his two front teeth meet. He pushes back and we devour each other’s mouths like we’re guzzling oxygen, fueling each other, feeding the fire that sparked with pancakes and spread with sable brushes.

Roll my hips, rock my pelvis in a slow, languorous salsa rhythm, our cocks sliding and twisting in his fist. Although my eyes are closed I can see his hand, those long, sublime fingers encircling slick muscle and skin. His knuckles are hard against my belly as I bring myself closer to him, knees and shins tight against his sides; leave his mouth long enough to ease him to his back, watch the light flash in his eyes as he leans up toward me, reluctant to release me from the sweet devastation of his kiss.

If the artist becomes his art, then this is that moment. I skim my hands over his arms, trace muscle and sinew and bone as though I am pulling him from marble, from clay, from the darkness that envelops us. Sculpting his chest with my tongue, greedy and insatiable, blind to everything but the sudden need to memorize every centimeter of his skin, every ridge and rise and artery.

David’s lube-slick fingers entwine with mine as I lave and kiss and suck a path from sternum to belly and back again, pulling his nipple between my teeth just to feel him shudder and sigh beneath me. Slide my fingers from his and reach between us, his cock hot and wet against my forearm as I reach beyond it, press two fingers against the taut, sensitive valley of muscle, and find his mouth at the moment he lifts his hips to meet my touch.

Swirl and press and slide my fingertips against that most beautiful of the body’s punctuation marks; trace the puckers and lines of tight flesh there and feel David’s life energy pulsing against my fingertips. Feel my balls draw tight and my ass clench in response to just touching him there, just tasting his tongue, just breathing his breath and want to vanish here … disappear into this moment; into him.

His moan vibrates in my throat as I push two fingers into him, cross the meridians of energy that collect there. My cock throbs between my legs as I lean against him and slide deeper in, exploring his body’s most hidden territory, pulsing rivers of desire and energy merging, yielding.

David gives in to the sensation and tips his head back, hips thrusting with the movement of my hand. He’s so much bigger than me, but I need to hold him, to be close as I can get, feel him skin-to-skin, inside and out. Slide my free arm under his shoulders and pull him close as we rock, my fingers deep inside him.

The look he gives me nearly makes me come.

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:02 pm (UTC)

Desire darkens the edges of my vision. It narrows my focus until all I can see is TJ's face looking down at my own. This moment forever reminds me of the times in my past where I let someone have so much control over me that even when I could breathe became their choice. And the world would contract to only sensation and passion.

I can feel a drop of water slide through the roots of hair on my scalp. Water or sweat, it trickles and my grip tightens around his cock. Slippery fingers, slippery skin. He grinds against me languorously, not lacking in strength, but deliberate and slow. Sensuous. Taking his time.

And for once, I'm the one that is biting my bottom lip. Trying to not simply grab him and move him and jesus ... I'm trembling. Wanting. More.

I feel like begging, but I can see the steel resolve in his eyes. Behind the heat, under the need that he feels as well as I. He's going to do this his way, in his time, by his own clock. And even though I don't know him, I know that nothing I say or whisper or do will make him move any faster than he will.

My thighs are spreading further apart even as his two fingers curl inside me. As he scrapes over just.that.spot and I'm making room for him, for more of him. Soft little gasps of the pain that is always there are like an added color to the rainbow of pleasure that coils through me. His chest moves against mine. A breath in, a breath out. He closes his eyes and I watch his face, wondering what he's thinking, what he's feeling ... if there is anyone else in this room besides us.

My back arches, my knees bend. My hands slide up to his face and his beard is soft against my palms.

"Kiss me, TJ."

I want him to drown in me, with me. I want to hear the sounds he makes when he loses that iron fist of control. If he ever does. And God ... he feels so good beside me, on me ... he's making me feel ... alive.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:03 pm (UTC)

Still my fingers and let his body's logic take over, muscle and nerves instinctively reshaping around flesh and bone, glove tight. For a moment we cradle each other like broken things, surprised and careful. I hold my breath, close my eyes, and press my cheek into his palm, turning just enough to trace the lines there with my tongue. Follow lines of fate and life and loss and I hear David's breath catch in his throat.

Then mine, as I lower my mouth to his.

His kiss surges through me, searching, seeking, taproot deep, and in an instant we are moving together. My fingers echo the swirls and strokes and plunges of his tongue, dictating how fast, how far, how much until he clenches hard against my hand, tensing and releasing in waves, and he pulls his mouth from mine, gasping.

Pull back and kiss his throat as he swallows hard and the feel of him against my mouth and the sound he makes goes straight to my core and pulses through my cock. Skim my face against his chest, leaving a trail of beard-scalded skin to soothe with kisses and caresses; stay in him, fingers curving and straightening to match the roll of his stomach beneath my cheek.

Breathe in his scent, find traces of linseed oil, musk and sandalwood. Rub lips and cheek and nose in the dark thatch of hair that's as soft and pliant the heads of his sable brushes. Whisper a litany of desire as I kiss and lick my way up to the glistening tip of his cock.

"Want you...need you..."

His balls are heavy and warm against my chin, and I nudge them up to expose the smooth expanse of flesh and muscle beneath them.

David's voice reaches me, dark as resin, thick and rough and dangerous as absinthe. His words are lost in a moan as I flick my tongue against the skin at the base of his balls and sweep it to the junction of my fingers and the tiny scroll of muscle that holds them tight inside him. Pressing from one side, licking from the other. Take his cock in my free hand and pull and twist and squeeze and coax.

Lift my face from the sweet, humid darkness and strain to see him. Have to see him. Lean up, bend to lick his belly, take his cock in my mouth and savor him. Leave him slick and wet as I stretch to reach him, pull his face to mine, craving his kiss.

The last of the fire's embers have cooled to ash, the candlelight has consumed itself, wicks smothered in pools of wax, and the room's golden shadows have faded to the gray ghosts of dawn. Everything I know is filtered through this light, this moment. This...madness.

I see his face in the changing light, his eyes black and glazed with desire, his lips swollen from kissing and I can't keep my thoughts in my head so they spill between us.

"I want to fuck you with my mouth and my hands and taste you when you come. Taste you and swallow you and..." break the torrent of words with an urgent, raw kiss. Pull away panting to search his eyes once more but they are closed as if he's lost in dreams, or prayer, or memories so I close mine and meet his mouth again, let me lose myself there.

Slide my fingers out of him just enough, just barely enough to shift my palm and open him wider, wide enough for more. Answer the twist of his hips and the thrust of his tongue with a third finger, pushing and sliding deep as I can go. Find that sensitive sweet spot between his cock and balls with my thumb and touch and press and circle and reach...

It's enough.

Enough for me.

Before I can speak or think or breathe it away I feel the familiar pulse and surge deep in my solar plexus and I don't want to back it off even though I can, don't care if I come against the rise of his hip without warning, with his hands caught in my hair and his mouth ... jesus mother of god his mouth...

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:04 pm (UTC)

A drug-free high. I feel as if I opened my palms and reached over my face, I would be touching the ceiling. So I don't. I slide my hands down my chest to TJ's shoulders. Fingers digging into the muscles that curve under wet, smooth skin as he touches me. Fucks me with his hand and his mouth. Seduces me with his voice before his wicked tongue licks around my balls and over my cock and fuck ... fuck …

Baseball stats.

Algebra.

The names of the continents.

American History.

My American History Professor.

The names of all my cousins, starting from the oldest to the youngest.

Jesus ...

My teeth sink into my bottom lip and the groan that comes from the pit of my chest feels like the vibration before the earthquake. I can taste his mouth, my own body, his warm, wet tongue and TJ's fingers sink deeper inside of me, his body undulates against mine. I can feel his cock, hard and hot, the crush of his chest, the strength in his arms and back and my eyes snap open. My hands twist in the thick curls of his hair and I'm arching up off the bed. Spreading my thighs wider, my heels digging into the mattress. Giving him all that I've got. All that is left of me now.

Heat curls through me, sharp spasms of cramps in my legs, in my back. And it all blends into the swirling pleasure that he is giving me. With every caress, every bite. Every lick and kiss and God ... yes ... right there ...

"Take it, Terrence ... take it all from me ..."

So close to letting go. I'm clinging to this moment by the very flavor of blood in my throat.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:05 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:07 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:08 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:09 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:10 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:10 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:11 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:27 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:28 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:29 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:30 pm (UTC)

Daylight creeps westward and the room gets lighter each time I open my eyes and focus out of the dark blur of pleasure to feast on the sight of him, face flushed and glistening, his mouth swollen and slack, wet from kisses that we can’t seem to control. He is desire incarnate, Bacchus at the feast.

A tight-eyed hurricane is brewing at the base of my spine, building and gathering as he feels his way into me, pressing and circling, seeking. Feel the energy spiraling red and furious and I have to draw it through me, up from behind my balls, all the way up to the crown of my head and pass it to him in a wild exchange of breath and saliva and gulping, sucking kisses. Might be my imagination, might be the fact that I haven’t slept in fuck knows how long, but I swear I see the light shift and arc as he pulls away from my mouth, taking my air with him as we roll together.

Strain to touch, to get my hands all over him now, my own cock forgotten in a heady rush to feel every square inch of his skin beneath my hands: baby-smooth and hot; rough and callused; pebbled with furze or shaved close and clean, I want to touch it all. Scars, blemishes, freckles…skimming and grasping, clenching my ass tighter every time I reach for him. Need to feel all of him, from between his toes and that sweet spot alongside the Achilles’ tendon right up to his hairline and everything in…

Grind into his fingers and fight to keep them in me as he pulls away. Grab fistfuls of sheet and blanket, my pulse throbbing in my ears at the sight of him kneeling between my legs, stroking that magnificent cock, sleek and gleaming, making himself ready.

He takes my breath away.

"Ready to take the first drop?"

Lift my hips and curve my leg against his arm, reach and touch his lube-slick fingers and brush the head of his cock, ripe and swollen and pulsing and perfect. Catch that look in his eyes and pull myself out of this simmering pool of need and want to get my bearings. Balance myself on the on the precipice.

Can’t find my voice for the thrumming of blood in my ears and the wildfire spreading in my circulatory system, but I think I’m saying this out loud.

“Ready, steady, go, David. Right over the edge.”

you can hold on steady, try to be ready but everybody’s gonna get wet.
Don’t think it won’t happen just because it hasn’t happened yet.

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:31 pm (UTC)
david smiles

I lean forward, one hand on my cock, balancing on the splayed out palm and fingers of the other. The back of his thighs opened against the front of mine. My cock bumping and pressing just under his balls.

My mouth dips down to his neck. Tasting the bare skin, my cheek brushing against his beard. My fingers slick and I push just barely inside him. Just the head of my cock and the tight fist of muscle. Stop moving. Stop breathing. My lips open, tongue flat on a pounding vein above his collarbone. Waiting for that first moment of adjustment.

The first time ... this first time ...

"Terrence ..."

I say his name. Whisper it. Wanting him so much that I can't express it in any other way.

One inch. Then another. Then another. Slow, slow plunge into the unknown. No pulling back, no backing off ... not yet. Another inch ... another ... another ...

Shocks of heat, cramps of pleasure trailing up my back and down my thighs as I come closer to his chest meeting mine. Fingers digging into the already torn comforter and sweat trickling down my spine.

"Terrence ..."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:32 pm (UTC)

Clutched deep in this fever dream, struck down and breathless, answering only to the thunderous beating of my heart and the look in his eyes. Common sense and memory lost, for once, to sheer, raw desire. To hope.

Hope, wild and savage and senseless.

Hope, that I might be wrong about this place, that I might be able to accept welcome and acceptance without twisting it into resentment. Hope, new and unnerving and enlivening, that I can slip loose of the chokehold of my perpetually lowered expectations and give this a chance. Give myself a chance, for once.

A need-ravaged plea rouses me, and the sound of my name brings the world back into focus. David looms over me, watching my face as he presses into me, slow as eternity. Reach up to capture his mouth, take the massive wingspan of his shoulders in my hands, and let years of athletic training serve me in a blissful rush as I flip him to his back, beneath me.

Laughter erupts from deep in my belly as I straddle him and raise myself to my knees enough so he slips out of me. Cat-and-mouse chase of surprise and frustration races across David’s face and he’s smiling against my cheek, arching his hips to bump his cock hard against mine. Lightning strikes of pain and pleasure sear me as sensitive skin meets and collides and slides apart, and as I scoot over his middle to reach over the side of the bed the loss of that heat is almost too much to bear.

That tree trunk that he calls a dick is wedged against my thigh one minute, between them the next as David turns himself and moves from under me, spreads his bulk over my ass and back, dead weight, pushing the breath out of my body.

I don’t need to breathe. Not with the heat from his mouth on my neck, that luscious, slippery tongue in my ear, the skim of his teeth on my jaw. Long arms drape over mine as I grab for my sweatpants, wind up flinging the palette across the room to free them and cringe a little to see the acid trippy explosion of color spatter on the stone hearth. Somebody’s going to be pissed about that one day, but not me, not now because there is this amazing man on top of me who’s clinging to me like a lifeline and I can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of him.

Handful of foil packets in my fist and teeth sinking into my back, fingers digging under my shoulder blades, into my ribs, under my arms, scalding hot cock sliding in the cleft of my ass and my actions are all autopilot now as I drop all but one of the damn things on the nightstand. Sweat-slick arms cover mine, and David reaches and takes the packet, whispering my name as he does the work my shaking fingers can’t seem to coordinate.

Rush of cool air on superheated skin, sweat evaporating and chilling me as the welcome pressure of his weight disappears and suddenly I’m trying to get beyond the lizard brain stage to figure out how the holy fuck to get that back, trying to make my arms and legs work to get next to him, close and closer until he’s buried to the hilt in me but I’m stuck hanging off the side of the bed like a sack of soybeans, fingertips digging into the carpet, trying to push myself back up.

Vaguely imagine that if he fucks me while I’m in this position he’ll probably break my neck. And of all the ways there are to die? It’s a fucking marvelous one. Unless I get Chris Reeve-d, and that would suck and why the fuck did I pick this moment to have sexual ADD?

Strong arm under my chest and he flips me like the pancakes that started this whole thing. Supported by springs and baffles and down and dear sweet Vishnu let him lift me, seal himself against me. . .

Grab a handful of his hair, yank his face down to mine, lick the salt from the corners of his mouth. Slide into that nirvana and kiss him deep and so very, very slow. . . savoring him. . . savoring this . . .

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:34 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:35 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:36 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:37 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:38 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:38 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:39 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:41 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:46 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:47 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:48 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:50 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:51 pm (UTC)

"Not an ocean ... just a walk out back. Into the chapel. I've done a little ... remodeling."

Another kiss. Lips on lips, teeth dragging on skin, slick brush of stubble and hair and his hand ... fuck. His hand on our cocks until all I can do is dig my fingers into his biceps and shiver as the heat rolls through me again and again. Too close. Too good.

I pull away before I can't. Get out of his addictive grasp and reach for the silver tin on my nightstand. Pop it open and slide out a joint. Tuck it between my lips, grab my Zippo and roll back to TJ.

The flame lights up the space between us and I'm smiling as I pull a deep drag off the joint, holding it in and holding it out. Letting the sweet smoke burn into my lungs before breathing it out in a slow sigh.

Fuck. I could drown in his eyes.

"Glitter on the mattress. Glitter on the highway. Glitter on the front porch. Glitter in the hallway."

Bang, bang, baby. Bang, bang ...

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:52 pm (UTC)

Good thing he rolled back with a spliff in his hand, because I’m going to need something to ease me back.

His voice isn’t helping. Low, gruff, so fucking desirable, making my cock twitch and if this is his way of taking a break, he’s got it all wrong.

The ganja is lovely stuff, sweet and laced with just a little something extra, or maybe its just the taste of him in my mouth mingling with the resin, or the taste of him on the wet rolling paper. Take a deep toke, hand it back and watch those long fingers take it, move to his lips and. . .

“Everybody’s groovin’, baby.”

Hook my leg up over his hip, roll my upper body away from his and reach over my head, stretch, feel the vertebra in my upper back pop. Study him from beneath half-closed eyes, reach over to trace the purpled bruise on the inside of his bicep.

“Your own personal playground, huh?” Lean up, bring his hand to my mouth and take a deep drag on the joint. Breathe it in, and press my mouth to his, give it back in a long, airy stream. Kiss his face as he holds the smoke in his lungs, feel my joints start to soften in the first stages of a familiar, languid high.

“Baptism, confirmation, first holy communion. Tell me, how old were you when you looked up at Jesus on that cross and couldn’t decide if you’d rather suck him off or be crucified with him?”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:53 pm (UTC)

The pot takes the edge off. That fucking bright, knife-sharp cut that can drive me insane. It mellows the colors in the room and leaves everything but TJ in muted patterns. He stays as defined as before. As close as before. All I have to do is lick my lips and I can taste him on my mouth. Bring the joint up for a drag and I can smell him on my fingers.

He asks his question and I'm laughing, letting out a stream of smoke and trying not to cough.

"It was a ways after communion, considering I was born into the Church. Not much, but enough. Doing the altar boy thing, I guess. Helping out the Father and the Bishop. The more time I spent a church, the more time my mom let me spend out on the field after school, or on the rink on the weekend. So, you know, I was motivated."

I take another long pull and give him the rest. Skating my fingers down the drying sweat and come on his chest to his still half-hard cock. The tip of my thumb pressing down over the head.

"Don't think I ever thought about sucking off Christ, he has too many issues ... but every single one of the disciples? Fuck, yeah. They might have worshipped him, but they would have bent over for me."

My eyes flicker back up to his and I take the last of the joint from his fingers. Lick it out and toss it off into an ashtray on the nightstand. Precome and come and sweat and weed on my tongue and I kiss him. Share it all.

"It's not so much a personal playground as it is a ..." A what? A place to worship the flesh, a place to find God in a mix of pain and a rush of passion, a communion of spirit and skin and adoration?

"Fuck, yeah, it's a personal playground. Varnished the cross myself, remade the office and the back room ... I paint there sometimes. I go there when I need to get out, to go back, to remember where I came from. I might not know who I am right now, but when I'm there, I know who I was. And I remember the first time ..."

My hand drifts lower. Massaging the base of his cock, rolling his balls in my fingers. Reaching between his thighs. Staring in his eyes and I will never stop kissing him ... never.

"Or, we could just stay here. Smoke more weed and call down for snacks and fuck until we can't walk. I'm easy."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:56 pm (UTC)


The room swims, not unpleasantly, and the feel of velvety skin beneath my palms -- skin that begs to be kissed and licked and feasted on – makes me lean closer, not wanting to leave room for sweat to crawl or breath to rise, but taking my own sweet time getting there. A slow motion lean in that could take forever, and the rise and fall of his chest gets my attention and holds me there.

Pinch the swell of muscle at his breast, watch blood rise beneath his skin, worry his nipple in my fingers as he talks to me. And oh, yes, I can picture attending that Last Supper, see the acolytes worshipping the real power behind the throne, lining up to beg him, making those offerings, bent over and spread wide and promising everything for one chance to be ruled by more than dogma. Keeping Christ’s sanctified hands ever so clean and virginal and ready to be drilled, and goddamn. . .

“I’m a total pagan, man.” I laugh, shaking the image from my mind of a bearded Peter, bound and gagged and David, buried to the hilt in the rapture. “My old man was an atheist who went to church because my French, tres-Catholique mother dragged him there. Me too, eventually, but I paid zero attention. Until I was fifteen, at my uncle’s funeral of all things, and I looked up at Christ on the cross and got a raging hard-on. Turns out my cousin Linda’d been having massive blowjob fantasies about him, too. It’s a loincloth thing. Christ, or George of the Jungle. With Linda it’s hard to tell.”

Feel myself sinking into the soft bed, dangerously close to letting the sound of David’s laugh lull me to sleep when lust curls deep in my belly, a cobra enslaved by the charmer’s touch. Rock into that warn, tight palm, lean up for a deep kiss and no, no sleep now.

Lick a path from his mouth to his earlobe, suck on it for a long second and try to control the urge to just fuck up into that beautiful fist and have him bring me off fast and hard and now. . . Catch my breath and swim in the depths of his gaze.

“Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit,” I tell him, and he smiles slowly and nods and I wonder if I can bear to be anywhere but within the skin’s distance of him. “So I say let’s go to the chapel, and if we can find our way back, I’m in for paralysis-inducing sex, a little more weed and serious snacks.”

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:57 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 04:58 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:01 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:02 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:02 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:03 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:03 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:04 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:04 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:05 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:06 pm (UTC)

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:06 pm (UTC)

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:07 pm (UTC)

I forget sometimes, that not everyone is ready or even wants to sink into the headspace this place creates as soon as they walk in the door. I do ... but then, heh. Part of my mind has always lived here, so it's easy for me.

Easy to shutter down the outside world and concentrate on only one thing at a time. Easy to wallow in ecstasy or drown in pain. Easy to slide into memories so graphic and beautiful that I don't even have to touch myself to come.

I take a breath, kiss the tips of TJ's fingers and put his palm flat on my bare chest.

"We're all human. That is not a sin. It's what we do with our humanity that creates either the sin or the divine or ... both. At once."

I keep his hand in mine and start walking slowly up the center aisle. Looking toward the ceiling for a moment, the tall rafters above us that are shrouded in dark. We step past each pew, the carved pockets in the backs still containing hymnals and bibles from who knows when. Forward and forward, until the railing is in front of us and I can see scars here and there in the varnish from leather tied too tight and worn through, from chains that rattled and clinked and I never heard the sound. Not on my knees and not with a flogger in my hand.

The Communion table sits just on the other side, easy to move, hard to break. Sturdy and strong and I do remember silk over wrists. So beautiful. So long ago.

The carved podium off to the side. The secrets it contains on shelves that face the back. Toys. Tools. Oil. Lotion. I can smell them each from here.

I have to look at TJ before I look at the cross. Not so easy to come back, once I'm there and I'm so fucking ready to be there ... so in need of this, either way it goes. I watch him, smile when his eyes come back to mine.

"Thirsty? The office is stocked with everything."

and more.

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:08 pm (UTC)
tj right

Floorboards creak beneath my bare feet, the sun-warmed wood an oddly familiar comfort. That, and the way he holds my hand as we approach the altar.

Sandalwood and charcoal, copal and dust. The old boards sing with every step, and once at the railing I understand the worship that takes place here. Sublimated desire and passion revealed, expressed, released.

Everything I'd been taught to accept. Everything I rejected on my own. Everything I came to embrace is here, hovering in the quiet. Burnished into wood, carved into stone, fired into iron.

David holds back, and I can read it on his face as if he thinks I might falter, or run. Watches for my reaction and pulls himself away, covers his feelings with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes and asks if I'm thirsty.

Place my free hand on his waist, pull myself a step closer to him so our toes touch, knees bump. Look into his eyes, daring him to look away.

Don't think before I speak, because something tells me it's way too late for that.

"Don't ever say what you think I want to hear. Please."

Run my fingers down the side of his torso, feel perspiration beginning to spring from his skin beneath my touch.

"I don't know what you deserve and what you don't, David. What I want to know is why wouldn't you expect to get everything from someone if you give everything in return?"

Posted by: fallen_angel_db (fallen_angel_db)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:09 pm (UTC)

"Because I don't. Give everything."

The scent of his body rises up from his skin, even covered in paint-stained sweats. My fingers slip under at his hips and I pull his shirt up and off. Skimming the smooth curves of muscle as he raises his arms and I toss the material off to a front pew.

I can't lie here. And while I have lost who I am, I am discovering who I was and changing what I can for who I will be.

"I've never given everything, even when I thought I was. Even when I would have sworn with blood pouring down my back and weights on my balls ... I haven't. Ever. Given everything."

He stands so close to me, his fingers press into my skin. I can feel every breath he takes as his chest rises and falls against mine. I lean down, let my lips brush against his. Slow, hot kisses with our eyes open.

"I have to be careful here, TJ. Careful what I say, careful to listen to what you say ... I want to play and I think you do too. But I don't play nice and I don't play fair and I have to know that you are with me ... that you want what I want. That you need what I need. That you feel the same. I can go either way, take you out of your mind or let you have the power."

My wrists set on his shoulders, my fingers curl around the back of his neck. My thumbs scrape over the tender, softstiff hairs at the bottom of his beard and I lick my lips to find the taste of his mouth there.

"Or we can go in the office and have a drink. I can show you the hot tub that sits in a room all by itself in the dark and we can just fuck the rest of the day away and whisper prayers to each other by candlelight. Until one of us passes out. Or," I smile,

"faints."

Posted by: not_thyne (not_thyne)
Posted at: September 29th, 2006 05:19 pm (UTC)
tj right

Continued here

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