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Westchester
6:26am

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A hand.

Beneath the sheet.  Strong and graceful, roaming the corrugated plane
of his stomach.

He shifted, arched into the touch slightly and let out a long breath,
sleepy and appreciative.  Eyes still closed, drowsing, letting that
hand coax his consciousness back to the surface.

A cheek now, rubbing against his chest like a cat.  Had to be a cheek,
because there was warm breath and stubble and silky hair too.

The hand slid lower, between his thighs, and the cheek shifted, rose
into a grin when the hand found him hard and ready.  Fingers slithered
down and back, up and around, tracing and grazing, making him jump and
twitch.

The cheek became a mouth, complete with tongue and teeth.  Hot and
wet, surrounding one nipple as the fingers became a fist and found a
rhythm.  His own hand went searching, ran up a curving satin spine,
closed on the back of a graceful neck.  Pushed downward slightly, met
little resistance.

A small laugh vibrated against his stomach as the mouth followed a
familiar path, closed lightly over its dripping target.  God.  So good.
Tongue again, swirling and probing,  sucking strongly as the hand
joined it, pumping slowly as the mouth played over him.

His fingers closed on a fistful of hair, and he lifted his heavy
eyelids just enough to catch a glimpse.  A bobbing auburn head, sharp
cheekbones, and that mouth.  God that wonderful mouth.  Delicate
eyelashes fluttered and then red-on-black eyes looked at up at him.  A
smile on the corners of the mouth, but it never slowed at all.

The hand let go and the mouth engulfed him, swallowed him.  A groan at
all that humid pleasure between his legs.  The hand tugged on his knee,
squirmed its way underneath his body when he obediently planted his
feet on the mattress, spread his knees.  The mouth released him gently
and then the tongue lapped and flicked and teased its way down, ran
softly over loose skin, then plunged lower.

The hand lifted him toward the tongue, held him there as it ran over
the tiny muscled opening.  Another hand closed over his shin, pushed
his leg up and back, spreading him wide, and the tongue slipped in,
probed, then withdrew to trace in soft circles.  Teeth closed on the
edge of a buttock, the inside of a thigh before the hands released him.
 

A shift of the mattress, the click of a tube being opened, and then
cold slickness on his newly wet skin, fingers thrusting and stretching
and preparing.  A ribbon of thick cold up the underside of his damp
hardness, spread slowly by the fingers.  Then a moment of anticipation,
wet sucking sounds as the hand slicked and readied the insistent
stiffness that poked at him just a few seconds later.  Two groans this
time as clenching heat gave way and there was just pressure and gliding
and sinking and moaning.  Smooth hard hips came to rest against his
thighs, hands threading into his hair,

Then the moving began, leisurely paced and deliciously steady.  The
mouth sought his, sweeping and nibbling, catching his lip and sucking.
A lean, lightly haired belly rubbed against his slippery hardness,
pressed it into his own stomach, ground down sweetly until he moaned.
The hips moved faster, and there was hot breath near his ear and hard
rounded muscle beneath his hands as he lifted his hips and buried all
that beautiful pressure as deep as he could, groaning through gritted
teeth as it hit all the right spots again and again and again and
again.

One hand let go of his hair and that beautiful thrusting belly lifted
off him just enough to give the hand room to latch on.  The hips drove
deeper, the hand pumped faster and he began to babble as he let go of
the pistoning body working in and out of him. God.  Yes.  Harder.
Good.  Faster.  Now.  Now.  Yes.  Now.  He gripped the headboard with
both hands, straining and bucking and calling and growling.  And then,
finally, coming.  Hard and sweet and pulsing strong in the hand as the
hips slammed into him and froze.   Soft damp hair brushing his face as
the mouth whispered his name between gasping cries, rhythmic spurting
throb imbedded in his jerking body.

Fast breaths becoming slower breaths, a gentle easing away, the sweet
sting of parted flesh closing.  And then a body, so close to his side
it was nearly on top of him, nestling inside his arm.  Legs tangling
with his, a sleepy head on his shoulder, smooth flank under his
caressing fingers.  An incline of his head got him a lingering kiss,
the scratchy sound of stubble on stubble tickling his ear.  Then he
waited, expecting it, wanting it.  Steady drum of a heartbeat close to
his, ticking off the seconds.

Two more beats before it dragged slowly up his sticky stomach, rested
its lazy weight in the center of his chest.  Twitched lightly as the
body pressed against his side gave in to sleep.

A hand.

The End