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buggerySo today is WIP Amnesty Day. Appropriately enough, I have a brand-new work-in-progress to share -- not because I don't have enough other WIPs; boy, do I ever have more than enough -- but this one was actually started in the wee hours of this morning. It shows no signs of getting finished anytime soon, though, if ever.
Some people write sequentially: they start at the beginning of a story and write through the middle all the way to the end. Occasionally I even do this. But typically I start in the middle somewhere, or at the end, or at several different points at once. This can make sharing a story as it's being written difficult.
This story? I know how it ends. I've written the end. But I have no idea how it starts or what comes in between. Fortunately, it looks like it's probably meant to be mainly or purely smut, so there's no crucial plot for the reader to be missing out on. I think.
He wants badly to reach down and stroke himself in time with Bruce's thrusts, but Bruce told him to hold on to the headboard, and even beyond how good his arms feel stretched over his head, and how good the weight of Bruce's gaze feels down his back... he doesn't *have* to do it just because Bruce said to, but he *wants* to. He can't even work his hips more than a wriggle to meet (or, theoretically, escape) Bruce's dick pushing into him, but that's it's own kind of good, too.
He's never imagined anybody *could* fuck him so hard, outside of most of the fantasies he's had about Bruce over the years, but -- those had been fantasies. This is real, so real it makes his teeeth rattle. The sight of his untouched dick swinging helplessly, of his balls swinging forward every time Bruce's balls slap against them, is too much. He tilts his head up, rests his cheek on the mattress and lets his back drop into a concave arch, suspemded between his hips and his shoulders. It changes the angle of his pelvis, does wonderful things for the way Bruce feels pumping into him.
Bruce's hold on his hips tightens to beyond bruising -- he's going to be feeling that longer than the burn in his ass -- and pulls all the way out. He's so *close* he could die of frustration, trying to push back into Bruce and not budging more than an inch. It makes Bruce's palms on his ass spread his cheeks, though, stretch him open, and that just makes it worse.
But the rising whine dies in his throat when he feels the first hot splash against his ass. Bruce is coming *on* him. His ass clenches, flexes open, and the next spurt hits him right *there*, and that's all it takes. His orgasm hits like a kidney punch, leaves him breathless and limp, only Bruce's hands holding him off the bed.
Bruce, of course, hasn't collapsed at all, though he's finally relaxed his grip. Dick groans, the way his face is smushed into the mattress not helping his attempts to get his breathing evened out any.
"Fuck," he manages. Bruce grunts and shifts one hand to the small of his back, rubs it down his spine. With another groan, he rolls to the side, onto his back, wincing a little at the way the sheet immediately clings to his sweaty skin. He blinks up at Bruce, who looks... post-orgasmic. Slightly mellowed and glowing a little and *good*. His dick twitches, which it shouldn't do when it's still softening from the last time, damnit. "Shower?" he asks.
Bruce just smirks as he slides off the bed and holds out his hand.
The rundown on the rest of my WIPs will appear in a forthcoming post.
some other WIPs and some actual finished stories here
Some people write sequentially: they start at the beginning of a story and write through the middle all the way to the end. Occasionally I even do this. But typically I start in the middle somewhere, or at the end, or at several different points at once. This can make sharing a story as it's being written difficult.
This story? I know how it ends. I've written the end. But I have no idea how it starts or what comes in between. Fortunately, it looks like it's probably meant to be mainly or purely smut, so there's no crucial plot for the reader to be missing out on. I think.
He wants badly to reach down and stroke himself in time with Bruce's thrusts, but Bruce told him to hold on to the headboard, and even beyond how good his arms feel stretched over his head, and how good the weight of Bruce's gaze feels down his back... he doesn't *have* to do it just because Bruce said to, but he *wants* to. He can't even work his hips more than a wriggle to meet (or, theoretically, escape) Bruce's dick pushing into him, but that's it's own kind of good, too.
He's never imagined anybody *could* fuck him so hard, outside of most of the fantasies he's had about Bruce over the years, but -- those had been fantasies. This is real, so real it makes his teeeth rattle. The sight of his untouched dick swinging helplessly, of his balls swinging forward every time Bruce's balls slap against them, is too much. He tilts his head up, rests his cheek on the mattress and lets his back drop into a concave arch, suspemded between his hips and his shoulders. It changes the angle of his pelvis, does wonderful things for the way Bruce feels pumping into him.
Bruce's hold on his hips tightens to beyond bruising -- he's going to be feeling that longer than the burn in his ass -- and pulls all the way out. He's so *close* he could die of frustration, trying to push back into Bruce and not budging more than an inch. It makes Bruce's palms on his ass spread his cheeks, though, stretch him open, and that just makes it worse.
But the rising whine dies in his throat when he feels the first hot splash against his ass. Bruce is coming *on* him. His ass clenches, flexes open, and the next spurt hits him right *there*, and that's all it takes. His orgasm hits like a kidney punch, leaves him breathless and limp, only Bruce's hands holding him off the bed.
Bruce, of course, hasn't collapsed at all, though he's finally relaxed his grip. Dick groans, the way his face is smushed into the mattress not helping his attempts to get his breathing evened out any.
"Fuck," he manages. Bruce grunts and shifts one hand to the small of his back, rubs it down his spine. With another groan, he rolls to the side, onto his back, wincing a little at the way the sheet immediately clings to his sweaty skin. He blinks up at Bruce, who looks... post-orgasmic. Slightly mellowed and glowing a little and *good*. His dick twitches, which it shouldn't do when it's still softening from the last time, damnit. "Shower?" he asks.
Bruce just smirks as he slides off the bed and holds out his hand.
The rundown on the rest of my WIPs will appear in a forthcoming post.
some other WIPs and some actual finished stories here
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no subject
Date: 2004-02-07 04:45 am (UTC)Kind of what that 'last page' challenge I keep stumbling over probably should have been.
Re:
Date: 2004-02-11 10:36 am (UTC)Thanks, hon. This particular story fragment does hold up pretty well on its own, surprisingly enough.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-05 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-25 02:01 pm (UTC)