ret-con, interlude 2
Jun. 24th, 2008 02:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupInterlude 2:
They get better.
Jordan’s pressed up against a wall, one long leg wrapped around Paul’s hip. They can’t keep their lips from seeking each other out, making out like air means nothing to them at all. His hips keep a steady rocking motion, mindlessly rubbing and sliding his erection against Paul's matching hard-on. They've been teasing each other for hours, so-called innocent touches as they went out to dinner and to the park. They were hardly able to contain themselves, stripping each other as soon as the door to Jordan's apartment at Trans Action closed.
Paul presses Jordan deep against the wall, grinding heated skin to heated skin. The friction is heaven, and Jordan can't help but moan at the loss when Paul steps back. "Bed," he whispers, that one word sending shivers down Jordan's spine.
It's impossible to resist the gentle pull towards the bedroom, the way Paul lies on his back and brings Jordan to straddle his thighs. There's a strangely slowed urgency about them tonight, a hurry as thick as molasses in their veins. He's gripping Paul's shoulders tight, nails digging in a little in an ebbing counterpoint to the pleasure and arousal that threatens to drown him.
He dives back into the wide mouth of his lover, heart thudding in his chest in sync with its partner. Even the slick finger that brushes his entrance doesn't shake him from the temptation of an endless kiss. He shudders and groans as his lover stretches and prepares him, never feeling complete until his lover is seated deep inside.
Jordan can hardly breathe, let alone speak, as Paul directs him how to ride his cock with hands tightly gripping his hips. It's too intimate, too deep, too much and Jordan has to close his eyes to keep this from ending too soon. His breaths become a chant of his partner's name, his mind consumed until there's nothing but this-- the slip-slide of their bodies, the heat and the way their hands entwine when one or the other is close, the cry of completion that never escapes their engaged lips.
They get better.
Jordan’s pressed up against a wall, one long leg wrapped around Paul’s hip. They can’t keep their lips from seeking each other out, making out like air means nothing to them at all. His hips keep a steady rocking motion, mindlessly rubbing and sliding his erection against Paul's matching hard-on. They've been teasing each other for hours, so-called innocent touches as they went out to dinner and to the park. They were hardly able to contain themselves, stripping each other as soon as the door to Jordan's apartment at Trans Action closed.
Paul presses Jordan deep against the wall, grinding heated skin to heated skin. The friction is heaven, and Jordan can't help but moan at the loss when Paul steps back. "Bed," he whispers, that one word sending shivers down Jordan's spine.
It's impossible to resist the gentle pull towards the bedroom, the way Paul lies on his back and brings Jordan to straddle his thighs. There's a strangely slowed urgency about them tonight, a hurry as thick as molasses in their veins. He's gripping Paul's shoulders tight, nails digging in a little in an ebbing counterpoint to the pleasure and arousal that threatens to drown him.
He dives back into the wide mouth of his lover, heart thudding in his chest in sync with its partner. Even the slick finger that brushes his entrance doesn't shake him from the temptation of an endless kiss. He shudders and groans as his lover stretches and prepares him, never feeling complete until his lover is seated deep inside.
Jordan can hardly breathe, let alone speak, as Paul directs him how to ride his cock with hands tightly gripping his hips. It's too intimate, too deep, too much and Jordan has to close his eyes to keep this from ending too soon. His breaths become a chant of his partner's name, his mind consumed until there's nothing but this-- the slip-slide of their bodies, the heat and the way their hands entwine when one or the other is close, the cry of completion that never escapes their engaged lips.
