Author's website: http://www.trickster.org/kass/

Disclaimer: Boys are theirs, words are mine.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Sihaya Black for beta.

Story Notes: Written in response to the "authority" challenge at livejournal community ds_flashfiction.

"I want to hear one."

We're spooned together and Ben's voice is husky by my ear.

I grimace, which he probably feels in my muscles even though he can't see my face.

"I told you one of mine," he points out.

It's true; he did. Surprised the hell out of me. Who'd've figured Benton Fraser for a guy who'd fantasize about silk? He's getting silk boxers for his next birthday, and I can't wait to watch him give in to how good they feel.

"It's...hard," I offer lamely. Being Ben, he skips the obvious joke, which I appreciate. Because this really is hard for me. I'm the big talker, yeah, but not when it comes to stuff like this.

He bites the back of my neck, gently, and I melt. Christ that feels good. "Fair's fair, Ray."

I close my eyes. Even though the room is dark, it helps.

"Okay, so...this would never actually happen, right?"

He nods into my shoulder.

"I mean, I wouldn't ever try this, it wouldn't be, you know, respectful, of the uniform, or the, um, the Inspector, or--"

"You're stalling."

He's right. I take a deep breath. "You're on duty. And for some reason the Inspector isn't there and you're doing something at her desk. She's got a great big wooden desk, right?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Just thinking about this makes my skin prickle. "And I show up, 'cause I've got the afternoon off, and I want to get you the hell out of there, show you a good time, but you can't leave."

His hands are stroking up and down my sides. It feels good.

"So, um -- look, the plot gets kind of hazy, but I really want to give you a blowjob, right?"

I can feel his dick stirring behind me.

"But you've got this paperwork. And you keep saying all this stuff about the Inspector's expectations and all the crap you said you'd accomplish and how you need to respect the authority of her position."

"I simply can't leave the desk."

"Right. So I tell you to scoot your chair back and close your eyes, and you look at me like I'm crazy but you do it anyway, and I crawl under there and squeeze myself under the table and then I grab your calves and pull you forward until you're just at the edge of the chair, and I put my mouth on the crotch of your pants and breathe."

I'm getting hard just thinking about it, because this is one of my favorite fantasies ever. Better yet, Ben's getting hard, too, pressed up against the backs of my thighs. I can't believe I'm telling him this. I can't believe he likes it.

"And I get your pants open and pull your dick out and you're just sitting there in your boss' chair, hands clenching the armrests, all done-up in your uniform with your erection sticking out of your fly and this dazed look in your eyes, and it's so hot I can hardly stand it, so I put my head in your lap and start sucking."

His right hand is on my dick now, working me nice and slow, and it's getting hard to breathe because I'm so turned-on. I'm sandwiched between his hot body and his hot hand, and I'm starting to squirm.

"And then what?" His voice is hoarse.

Ben's hand tugs just right and I gasp, suddenly closer to the edge than I knew.

"What happens next?"

"Next? Uh. God." I'm about to start babbling. "I make it last a long time, all slow and wet," and he pulls his hand away and I'm about to bitch when he sticks his fingers in my mouth. So I suck on them for a second or two, which I'm not sure if it's sexier to him or to me, and when he pulls his hand free and touches me with wet fingers I groan. He's thrusting against my ass now in time with the squeezes of his hand on my dick.

"Do I ejaculate in your mouth?"

God help me, but I love to hear him talk dirty. Those fifty-cent words in his raspy bedroom voice. "Yesss," I hiss. "You come in my mouth, you love to come in my mouth, you can't believe what I just did to you but you love it--"

"I love it, I want to, all over you," he murmurs, roughly, and I damn near lose it. But I've got to finish my story.

"--and when I push the chair back and climb out from under the desk you look like you've been fucked six ways from Sunday, your face is red and you're breathing hard--"

He gasps in my ear. Oh, God, I'm gonna come any second now.

"And I tuck you back in your pants and zip you up," glad he isn't correcting me, because I know the uniform doesn't have a zipper, but it does in the fantasy, "and just as I'm leaving I run into the Inspector, and I smile at her and go out to the car, and she's never going to know what I just did to you in your uniform under her desk."

I am this close to coming when his hand slows. "But what about you, Ray?"

"What -- about -- me?" Trying to push into his hand faster than he wants to stroke me off.

"Don't you get a climax? In the fantasy?"

"Nah, but I get one in real life," I hint.

"Do you masturbate with this fantasy in mind?"

"Do I ever," I blurt out, because the internal censor doesn't work real well when Ben's dick is painting lines on the backs of my thighs and his hand is skating over my balls like that. And then a new heat colors my face: Jesus, I didn't mean to say that out loud, he's gonna be offended, I don't respect the uniform, I don't respect the Consulate, I don't have any respect for the authority of--

In the same split second his hand tightens on me, his dick jerks and splashes, and he stifles a groan by biting the back of my neck again. That's all I need: I'm over the edge right there with him, in his arms.

Guess he wasn't offended after all.

After a while we recocoon in the blankets, which kind of got thrashed away during the whole sex thing. I'm drifting off towards sleep happy as a clam.

Maybe I was wrong: maybe we could try that one. Not at the Consulate, obviously -- kinky fantasy life or no, he'd never actually go for that -- but I could get him to put on the uniform here...

Actually, there are a whole lot of ways things could go once he puts the uniform on...

I fall asleep with a grin on my face.

(1148 words)

End In Uniform by Kass: kass@trickster.org

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