His chances of getting laid tonight, Blair decided as he climbed the stairs to the loft, were exactly zero and none. Under the best of circumstances, Sam was hard to coax into bed, which was one of the reasons he kept seeing her even though she insisted that he follow every step of the dating ritual to the letter. Every date was expensive: nice dinner, appropriate compliments, good concert or the equivalent event, small gifts before or during. She was hard on a grad student's budget and harder on his time.
But the hope that she would cross the line from insensitive, self-centered bitch to something a bit... more... had him coming back time after time. Every once in a while, when she was in the right mood, she was, well, commanding instead of selfish, and the reason she wanted him to beg and grovel had nothing to do with her own ego and more to do with their mutual pleasure. He had no idea if she knew that was what he wanted from her, and doled it out just enough to keep the money flowing, or if she were just a natural top fighting her own inclinations because she thought it was perverted or un-ladylike or something.
Either way, he wasn't getting any tonight. Traffic had made him late, and even though that wasn't his fault, Sam had waited long enough to get pissed about it. The concert had been good, but the people sitting behind them had been drunk and disorderly, ruining the music for everyone around them. Somehow that was his fault as well because he was the one who had picked the seats when he bought the ticket. At the restaurant things had gone from bad to worse because the service was terrible and the food sucked, and to top it all off, the Volvo wouldn't start when they were ready to leave, no matter how much coaxing Blair gave it.
He'd shelled out the money for a cab to her place, then unashamedly begged for a ride to the loft because he was broke and it was a long, long walk. To his surprise, she'd agreed, but it turned out it was because she wasn't through tearing him a new asshole over how badly the evening had gone. In fact, she'd gotten into it so much that she had come up the stairs with him, adding the out-of-order elevator to her seemingly endless list of complaints against him.
It wasn't until they actually reached the door that he realized she might have an ulterior motive. Despite it all, her nipples were little peaks under her sweater, that inherent domme personality coming through maybe, and he thought that maybe he wasn't going to get laid *tonight,* but he might be able to prime the pump for tomorrow.
So once the door was open, showing him a dark, quiet loft, which meant no Jim or a sleeping Jim, he stood in the threshold and smiled as ingratiatingly as he knew how. "You're absolutely right; it's been a total disaster and it was all my fault. Let me make it up to you? You pick the time, the place, everything, just the way you want it."
Risky that, very risky - he might end up pawning something to pay for it. Still, she frowned her pretty frown, the one that meant she liked what she heard but wasn't going to admit it. "Wellllll, maybe..." she said, considering.
Drifting into her personal space, close enough to let her know he was sincere, but not *too* close so she wouldn't think he was coming on to her, he coaxed, "Come on, Sam, please? Hmmm? I'll do my very, very best to make you happy." There was a tiny, tiny touch of innuendo in the second 'very,' designed to appeal to her bitch instincts without her really noticing.
"There is *one* thing that would go a long way toward making it better," she said slowly, but a hint of a cat-smile was at the corner of her lips.
Uh, oh, he thought, despairing. Here comes her real motive for following me up here and trying to make me feel like shit. And I am not going to like it or she'd just come right out with it in her usual demanding way.
Aloud, making his own smile show a few more teeth, he enthused, "Great! What is it? That trip to Vegas we've been talking about?"
Ah, that almost got her; he could see her hesitate since she'd been angling for that for some months. Not that he was ever going to go there with her for reasons he wasn't going to let come to the surface right now. She stuck to her guns, though, and this time she was the one to inch a little closer until they were almost inside the apartment and her tits were millimeters from his chest. "No, but it's something *very* important to me, and *you're* just the right person for it."
Double uh-oh. She's being nice.
"And it would make me very, very grateful." Her sexual emphasis on the second very made his dick tingle with notice, but he became wary, masking it by letting her think she had him hooked.
Putting eagerness into his voice, he trailed his fingers over her wrist, not quite a pass, but still intimately suggestive. "Yeah? Now you're getting me curious." If he hadn't been looking for it, he would have missed the flash of triumph in her eyes, and his stomach sank. Just how far was he willing to go on the off-chance that she would do more than put out? As a simple lay, Sam wasn't that much; it was the potential extras that he worked for.
Not noticing her fish wasn't gaffed yet, she purred, "Remember the Petersons?"
"Of course."
The worst kind of social climbers; impressed by all the wrong things and an object of ridicule for the people they're trying to suck up to, he remembered all too well.
"We had a very interesting evening with them a month or so ago."
More like a disaster; Robert - not Bob or Rob or Bobby, but Robert - and I were nearly at each other's throats just because I started comparing the hierarchical patterns of gibbons and the nuveau riche, Blair said mentally, keeping true opinion to himself.
"Well, they're throwing this big affair for his company, and it's very important to him that he make the right impression on his CEO, so he's trying to, well, plump up the guest list a little with some good people from outside their normal circle of friends."
Translation: the only people he knows to invite all work with him and he's looking to give his boss the impression that he has contacts in the community.
"If you're thinking a few academics will help," Blair said aloud, "I know a couple of the deans at Rainier who're always cruising parties for new contacts to hit up for donations. They're good guests, very entertaining and amusing, and they won't actually talk about funding until after."
"Oh, that's great!" she gushed. "I'm sure they'll fit in wonderfully."
More translation: but not what I want.
"Well, give me the particulars and I'll see what I can do." Trying to deflect whatever was coming next, he deliberately pushed the sex issue a little too hard. "You could wear that red number you look so hot in and be the belle of the ball," he purred, fingers venturing up to the inside of her arm.
She stiffened, but didn't dim her smile. "Wonderful; afterward we can go back to my place, and, if you've been a good boy, we can have a party of our own." Upping the ante, she traced the line of his zipper with a fingernail, apparently pleased that the dick under it was soft, but rapidly hardening at her touch.
"I can be a very good boy," Blair said huskily, fighting not to get sidetracked by the wrong head. Listening intently, not hearing any signs that his partner was up, he gently drew her past the door far enough that no one in the hall could see them. "May I give you a demonstration, right now?" He trailed his fingertips to her hand, then lifted it to his lips, going to one knee in a melodramatic pose. "In whatever way the lady wishes?" Licking his lips suggestively, he added, "Your satisfaction is all that I require." A hint that she could get something and not have to do anything for him was a sure fire way to get *her* side-tracked, he reminded himself.
Adjusting her stance so that she was a few inches closer, crotch almost to Blair's nose, she murmured, "I'd like that, really. You know how to do that better than I thought it could be done." Then, apparently regaining her resolve, she said, "But not tonight. I need to get home. I'll definitely keep it in mind for after the party, which should be fun all by itself. The CEO has a thing for cops, so lots of our friends will be there - Rafe, Henry, Serena." She plucked at one of his curls, twisting it around a forefinger. "Oh, and Blair, could you ask Jim to come, too?"
"Absolutely not."
Two seconds later he was on his ass, she was out the door, and it was slamming shut.
Wincing as much from the slam as from the pain in his backside, he knelt up, rubbing at the cheek that had taken most of the force from her shove. "Horny, I may be," he muttered sourly. "Stupid I'm not. And you're not worth one of Jim Ellison's shoelaces, so don't ever think I'll risk trouble with him over you. I manage enough of that on my own, thank you."
He sighed and adjusted the other ache she'd started. His dick didn't care why she'd gotten tough with him, just that she had, and it was hard enough to drill steel with in readiness for more. Undoing his pants to take off some of the pressure, he told it, "Forget it; it'll be a cold day in hell before you get any more of that."
It didn't listen; it only grew another fraction harder and longer, feeding on the leftover traces of Sam's treatment of him. "Of all the things for you to get off on," he growled, giving up and freeing it completely. Closing his eyes at the surge of pleasure from his own touch, he couldn't help but think how it could have gone while he was on his knees in front of her: her taunting him with his worthlessness, telling him that he didn't have what it took to satisfy a real woman.
Without meaning to, he began to stroke himself. "God," he groaned, already feeling the first pull of climax deep in his belly. Sam faded from his mind's eye, and it was a hugely erect cock in front of him, inches from his yearning mouth, tempting him with a bead of pre-cum on the tip. "Let me suck it," he begged, not aware the words were actually leaving his lips. "Please, let me taste that dick."
"I always thought you had cock sucker lips," Jim said conversationally. "Looks like I was right."
Blair's eyes flew open, then traveled up over the long, nearly bare body of his partner, who was standing only a few feet away. He found a sardonic grin waiting for him. "Jim, man, uh, I thought, you know, dark loft, late, the whole bedtime thing," he spluttered, too shocked to move. His face began to burn, but his dick throbbed dangerously close to shooting, turning nearly purple in his frozen fingers.
Gesturing at the towel barely covering his hips, Jim said sarcastically, "First there's the shower thing, and I had an eyestrain headache, so I left the lights off since you weren't home. Not that you or Miss Bitch thought to be particularly quiet during your foreplay there."
He put a heavy hand on Blair's shoulder, holding him in place. "So that's what you see in her. You get off on a woman making you crawl."
"Jim," Blair started desperately.
"Tell me, cock sucker, do you like it when a man makes you crawl, too? Does that little pencil dick of yours stand up when a real cock shows it just how pathetic it is?" Jim's voice was belittling, just the right shade of contempt and lust to make heat curl through Blair's middle, licking at his balls and asshole.
At the same time he squirmed, the humiliation of what was happening to him branding his mind. "Look," he tried again in self-defense, but Jim swept off the towel he wore, showing off a hard-on that Blair would do a hell of a lot more than grovel to get his hands around.
"Heart rate, breathing, pulse - all off the chart," Jim said tauntingly. "Smells says, 'give that to me,' eyes say, 'please, please, please.' You are *such* a hungry little cock sucker, aren't you, Blair?"
Swallowing hard, losing himself in the scent and heat pouring off of Jim, lost in the dirty words, Blair hesitantly nodded.
"Not good enough," Jim chided gently. "You want a taste of this, you have to earn it by telling the truth. Now, what are you?"
"Uh, a horny, uh." Blair swallowed again, nearly ready to burst from suddenly expanding desire. "Horny little cock sucker," he finished in a rush.
Jim reached out and traced the cap of one of Blair's ears with the ball of his thumb. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"N... no." He could hardly make out his partner's face in the dark room, but Blair could swear that the blue of his eyes was glittering brightly, shining with Jim's lust.
"Good. Let's see if you can answer the next question without stammering like an immature schoolboy. You obviously fantasize about gobbling cock when you beat off. Do you think about getting it up the ass, too?"
That question hit Blair hard and heavy in the balls, and he realized with a start that there was a very real possibility he'd shoot from Jim's embarrassingly private interrogation. "Both," he blurted out.
"At once?"
"Sometimes, but mostly face first, then in the ass." It came out easier than he'd expected, and he sighed, something inside giving way, leaving him totally at Jim's mercy.
"Mine?"
"Oh, God, yes. All the time."
A finger tickled over his lower lip, making him instinctively lick at it, and Jim murmured, "Very, very good. Take that taste you want so badly, now, but *just* a taste."
He couldn't help shuddering, not sure if he could limit it to a single lick but not able to turn down the chance for that much. Leaning forward slowly, he lapped away the crystal drop he'd been dying for, moaning at the bitter good taste and velvet feel of the soft head. Sitting back onto his heels, he waited for permission to do more, hand absently soothing the angry thrum of his own cock.
"Nasty, nasty, Blair," Jim scolded. "Masturbating in front of me. Why would I want to watch you play with that tiny little thing?"
Stopping instantly, snatching his hand away, Blair whispered, "You tasted so good; I couldn't help it."
"Then I'd better make sure you can't do it again. Put your hands behind your back."
Nearly whimpering, balls full and tight with the need for release, Blair hurriedly did as he was told, keeping them there until Jim walked behind him. Reaching over his shoulders, Jim teasingly, slowly undid the buttons on Blair's dress shirt, then pushed it and his jacket off his shoulders and down to his elbows, so that his hands were totally tangled in the fabric. A shiver of cold from the night air shimmied over his naked chest, but didn't do a thing to cool the ache in his dick at all.
Jim walked back around to stand in front of him, putting his cock close enough to Blair's face that he could see the throb of the big vein running the length of it. A hand settled on the top of his head, fingers toying with his hair, then Jim asked softly, "Do you fuck yourself with toys when you masturbate?"
"Yes," he said softly, feeling his hole twitch in memory.
"Big, thick ones, like you wish you had instead of that tiny thing?"
"Yes."
"Not just a cock sucker, then. Good. You can have another taste, if you want."
Eagerly Blair licked at the ruddy cap, but Jim shifted just enough that all he got was a swipe along the side of the shaft. Moaning in disappointment, he sucked at his own tongue, trying to get every bit of the flavor of his tormentor from it.
Jim stroked himself languidly, moving from base to crown in long, slow beats. "You really love using that mouth of yours, don't you, bitch? Do you do more with it than service cocks? Do you eat ass, too?"
"Yes," Blair instantly. "I love to rim. I can do things to your pucker that you didn't know could be done."
"Bragging? Well, since you don't have anything worth putting into someone's ass, it makes sense you'd be a good with your tongue." He turned around, standing astride Blair's bent legs. "Go for it. Prove that you can be useful in the bedroom."
Blair hadn't been exaggerating to please Jim; he truly did love performing this service for a lover, getting off on the sheer intimacy and show of trust behind it. Cooling his burning face for a moment on the downy flesh of Jim's ass-cheek, he took a deep breath, then lightly tickled along the edge of the dark cleft, subtly teasing his partner into opening wider for him.
First with dainty kisses, then with tender licks, he paid proper homage to the portal of his lover's body, working only to show that he knew his proper place was on his knees, servicing in whatever way was required of him. A soft moan of pleasure from Jim was his reward, and he pressed deeper into the dusky circle, relishing the earthy taste and frail, silky texture of the skin. Jim rocked back into the miniature thrusts, crooning, "Yeah, oh yeah, you are a damn good ass-licker, eat me out good, put that dirty tongue of yours in deep. Come on, come on, show me you're good for something."
Groaning almost continuously himself, Blair put all his energy into making Jim come from this, into giving the ultimate proof of what he could do to make his lover feel good. He was so focused on drilling into the tiny aperture that he almost toppled over when Jim stepped away.
"Damn, you're such a good bitch with that mouth," Jim muttered, jacking himself hard. "Guess I owe you something special - can you reach your hole with your fingers?"
"Yeah," Blair rasped out.
"Finger yourself, then," Jim ordered. "Go on, do it."
Clumsily because of the fabric layered over his hands, Blair got his pants and underwear down far enough to reach his opening, his cock bouncing crazily against his stomach as he maneuvered. It always felt good to enter himself like that, but under Jim's blazing command, his fingers felt like thick rods. He gasped, realizing he was going to come from the observation of Jim's mocking gaze and his overwhelmed nerves.
"Jim," he mumbled, riding down as he shoved his fingers in deep, "Can't take any more. Too... God, much too... damn... please, want to suck you... please, please, just one... please!"
"Don't stop fucking your hole," Jim ordered, then stood astride Blair's thighs, his fist moving over the column of his flesh blindingly fast. "But take what you can get."
Permission granted, Blair lapped and sucked as best he could as Jim's cock dipped and bobbed from the strokes on it. It bounced against his chin, nose, cheeks, even eyelids, leaving damp traces all over him and driving him crazy with its elusiveness.
"I'm coming," Jim said hoarsely. "I'm going to shoot now, cocksucker. If you want to drink my come, this is your chance, now, whore, now, now, now...."
A burst of cream hit Blair on the lips, but he didn't try to capture any of it, but instead latched his lips around the crown, to swallow down the next spurt. He sucked hard, and Jim thrust in deep, nearly gagging him, but he didn't care, the rest of his lover's load spilled into him. A hand locked into his hair, holding him in place as Jim spasmodically fucked his face through his climax, and Blair jammed his own fingers into his hole, trying desperately to find the hot spot inside his channel so that he could come before Jim shoved him away.
A particularly hard thrust did the job, and he climaxed, whimpering helplessly. The rush of pleasure went on and on, blinding and deafening him, leaving him only as a cock and asshole exploding with intense relief.
When Blair could finally feel and think, he was crumpled on the floor, Jim's arms around him, his hands free and loosely wrapped around his lover's waist. They were both panting harshly, and Jim was restlessly petting his back and head. He gave a little squeeze to let Jim know that he was back, but didn't move besides that, wanting to have the closeness as long as possible.
Finally, just as the floor got too hard and cold and he was going to have to move, Jim asked matter-of-factly, "Is this something you *want,* Chief, or something you *need?*"
"Want, I guess," Blair answered honestly, still too wide open psychically to do anything else. "Most of the time, plain vanilla sex is great, if not out-and-out fantastic." He shrugged. "Once in a while, though... well, who knows why they get turned on by something? It pops into my mind and stays there for a while, making me horny until I take care of it."
He felt a nod against his head from Jim, then asked carefully, "Is this a need for *you?* Is that why all of a sudden, after years of knowing I was bi, you suddenly jumped me?"
"No, not exactly," Jim said uneasily, and for a moment Blair thought he would shut down like he usually did, with maybe only dribs and drabs of what was going on behind those shuttered blue eyes leaking out around the edges of Jim's control.
To his surprise, his partner went on slowly, "I've seen scenes like that, know the mechanics, but it never had any appeal to me until you started running my life. And before you start..." Jim hardened his tone belligerently. "You know damn well you do, Sandburg. Why do you think I fight so hard against what you want me to do, why I try so hard to keep control over everything else around me? These fucking senses of mine make it impossible to do anything but depend on you, and at times I *hate* it."
"Why do you think I put up with you when you act like an asshole?" Blair said quietly. "I'd hate to have my entire life hanging on what someone else says I have to do all the time, too. No matter how much I loved them." Under him he could feel Jim relax utterly, and until that moment Blair hadn't realized how tense the big man had been all along.
"Yeah," Jim agreed, rubbing his cheek into the curls at the top of Blair's head. After a minute he volunteered, "Letting you into my bed would have been like breaking down and giving you control over absolutely everything. Like giving up my manhood, kind of."
"Never, ever, ever, ever," Blair chanted solemnly, meaning it.
"Well, tell that to Mr. One-eye. *I* wanted you so bad, almost from the start, that I don't think I've had a one-handed session since we've met that you didn't star in. But the only way he'd rise to the occasion was if I thought of you as helpless, or forced to do exactly what I wanted you to do."
"Oh, wow," Blair breathed. "Helpless?"
"Tied up, drugged, held at gunpoint by thugs, you name it. If it was an excuse to have what I wanted without giving you equal billing, I've probably fantasized about it all."
Blair thought about that, ignoring the vague stirring from his own Mr. One-eye. "Makes sense," he said after a minute. "But, you know Jim, your hard-on is *not* a separate entity from you. If it wasn't cooperating, it was because of what was going on inside you."
Jim made the noise Blair had learned to interpret as, "Duh! I knew that!" and added sharply, "There's no reason you have to put up with that kind of hassle from yourself, man. Look, when you surf, who's in charge, you or the surfboard?"
"What kind of question..."
"Just answer it!"
As if he could already see where Blair was taking him, Jim said carefully, "Neither. If you think too hard about what the board is doing, you get wiped out by the wave. If you don't pay attention to the way your stick is acting, you get wiped out. The only way not to wind up eating sand is to be part of the board, have it respond to what you want without ever consciously thinking about it."
"That's how *we're* supposed to be," Blair said firmly. "In the bedroom and out of it. You think Burton left a how-to manual on the care and maintenance of sentinels? But every time you've needed me, or I needed you, and we just reacted to that, we did okay. Every time we've fucked up, either alone or as a team, has been when one of us was thinking too hard, or fighting what he already knew had to be done."
"Barnes," Jim muttered viciously.
"Alex," Blair agreed. "And the fiasco with the diss."
"So, you're saying that if I want to make love with you, all I have to do is make love with you without worrying about who's the top or who's the bottom. It'll just happen the way it's supposed to happen."
"Right, go for the Zen. Live in the moment, like when you're on that board, flying on the wave," Blair said enthusiastically. Against his hip he could feel a definitive twitch from Jim's cock, and he snuggled into it, knowing scent would tell his lover that he was getting his own twitches.
"Always thought surfing was the next best thing to sex," Jim said reflectively. He brushed a soft kiss over Blair's forehead, then asked with a smile in his voice, "Does this mean we can't get those toys of yours and try them out with the handcuffs and stuff I've got?"
"Hey, I didn't say that!" Blair laughed, feeling a little crazy. "Go for what feels right at the time, be it a cuddle or a cock ring."
Putting a finger under Blair's chin to tilt his head back, Jim whispered, "Okay, then *this* feels like the right time for this," and kissed him gently full on the mouth.
And it was, for both of them.
finis