Toe Curling

Deuce

Justin's POV:

Well this is it, my last few days in the Pitts. And I get to spend them with him. For the next three days before I fly off to be a ‘stahhh'. He wants to spend them with me.

The family's got strict instructions to fuck off. Refrigerator's stocked, the door shut and locked, alarm set, phone ringer off. Just him and me for three whole days. I don't know what scares me more, me holed up with him, alone for three days or me flying off into the sunset to be away for six months. Guess I'll find out soon enough.

He's a bit quiet as we prepare dinner. He looks almost, I'm not sure of the right word. Reflective, that's it, reflective. Like he's thinking about us, our history, brief as it is. But what a history. There were times that I didn't think we'd be together long enough to make a history but here we are. And it seems to be getting better.

He accepts my decision, supports it, knows I have to try this. Even if I fall flat on my face, fuck this up, I have to try. Like every thing else I've tried, right or wrong. Ethan, the Pink Posse, and Rage. He knows I have to try and win or loose, good or bad, he'll be there. Like always, he'll be there.

Still I wish he'd say something, stop staring off, looking out the window or pretend fascination with his penne. Doesn't matter. What he wont say in words he'll say with his body. His hands, his beautiful lips and that oh so perfect cock.

After dinner I'll hand him a glass of his favorite wine, let him sip it while I clean up. Then lead him on, into the bedroom. I know he'll follow me, I can always get him to follow me. I love getting all wide-eyed, flash my smile, look innocent, ready for him to seduce me. And he will seduce me, he never disappoints. He'll seduce me alright, just like I want him to.

Three days to fuck me into the mattress. Three days to fuck me so hard that I'll be able to feel him all the way to L.A. God, I'm going to miss him.

Miss him, not just the fucking and sucking, although I will miss that too. I'll miss him. His intelligence, his snarky sarcastic wit, his brilliance. Miss his warmth, his kisses, his touch. Miss his passion.

Outwardly, Brian Kinney puts on a daily mask of dispassion and disinterest. Only the closest of us know just how passionate he can be. Passion for his work, his family, his son. Passion for what's right and the know how to make things right. And his passion for me.

He may not admit it, may not say anything with words. But when he touches me, holds me close in his arms, caresses my face, he speaks directly to my heart, straight to my soul.

He's finished with his wine. That smirk is splayed across his lips. His eyes change from hazel to moss to ebony with his passion. I feel our heat rise, my pulse quickens along with his. The need to touch, to feel naked skin is all consuming.

Our clothes have magically vanished as we stand before the altar of our passion. His bed. This bed, where he first took my virginity. Where I begged for him to do it, so scared, so naive, such a brat. Even when high and drunk on fatherhood he popped my cherry with gentleness, compassion and passion. Showed me how it should be, taught me day after day, night after night how to love, how to make love, how to fuck.

He's touching my face, memorizing each detail of my skin. His hands roaming everywhere, his eyes imprinting every freckle, every hair, every scar. He's not saying a word, yet his finger tips tell me, reveal to me everything he needs to say. We have no need for words right now. His passion says it for him.

Kiss. He's pulled me close into his arms, against his hot hard chest, for a kiss. The kind of kiss that can melt lead, can melt me and it does. My knees weaken, I feel almost dizzy, giddy with my lust for this man. He catches me, gently places me in the middle of the bed where his fingers can continue their exploration of my body. Again the pads of his finger trace patterns across my face, my lips. He playfully taps the tip of my nose then plants a kiss on it. His hands move further down my body, down to my collar bone and shoulders. I want so desperately to touch him but he stills me with a glance. It's all him, for him. He needs the control. At this moment he needs the comfort.

He plays with my nipples, pinching, over sensitizing till I want to cry out. I do cry out but he doesn't stop, not that I want him to stop. Shit, I'm so easy. No, that's not right, I'm only easy for him. He alone can make me feel this way. Make me feel. Make me feel again, give back what the bashing took away. Make me feel.

He sucks a nipple into his mouth, so warm and wet. Biting, biting, he's biting my nipples. God it hurts. And how I want it to hurt. Then it stops as he kisses away the hurt, licks away the sting. Then lower, lower till his tongue finds my belly button and he fucks it. Rims my naval like my ass. Making me feel, feel the sensual, passion of our coupling with his tongue. There was a time when my belly button was only something on my abdomen. A point of reference. Something to fiddle with when bored, something to try to make annoying noises with, in my innocence, before I met him. Before I learned that the belly button, my belly button is a very serious erogenous zone.

His tongue probing, fucking the tender flesh, my passion rising. I could cum just from this, without him ever touching my cock, I could, can cum, cum...

He stops, gently petting my stomach, allowing me time to calm. He could get me off this way but he's not ready. He enjoys building the tension, has it down to a fine art. He continues his sojourn of my body.

I'm still breathing hard but calmer, under control. His lips follow my treasure trail but he's in a playful, teasing mood. He makes no attempt for my dick.

His lips kiss a path down my left leg while his hand follows along my right leg. Duel sensation of warm moist and cool dry. His hand mimics his lips, his lips firm like his fingers. I'm leaking, dripping on to my belly, a hand appears, dipping into the small puddle. He wipes it across his lips, licking his lips. He does it again, my pre-cum shining on his lips like gloss. My closet drag queen.

I expect him to flick his tongue across his lips again but instead he pounces. Gnashing his mouth against mine, sharing my taste. I should have known better than to try to out think the master.

He goes back to my legs this his mouth on my right leg and hand on my left. His mouth and hand reach my feet at the same time. He often tells me he loves my toes, loves to watch them curl when I cum.

Silly, silly man.

Oh god, he's sucking on them, sucking each toe like a little cock. Oh my god, I'm gonna...

No! He backs off, the fucker. He knows my body so well. I manage to pry open an eye and yup, there's that smirk. That sly smile telling me how well he knows me; the asshole. But my glare doesn't stop him, only serves to fuel his passion. Over I go.

He lays on my back so that his cock is nestled snug between my ass cheeks, covering me completely with his beautiful body. Searching for my hands, he clutches each one in his and sighs into my ear. I know what he's saying. I can read him again. He's saying that he will miss me, miss us, miss this; the closeness, the touching, the love.

Enough! I want fucking!

I clench my ass against his dick, dropping an oh so subtle hint that I wish to proceed with this evenings festivities. I hear a giggle, he kisses my ear and whispers, "patience."

He trails his lips down my spine. I feel his tongue just like the first time. I'm up on all fours, his tongue following that same path. He gets to my hole, "now you know what rimming is."

He pushes me down onto the bed and begins to eat my ass in earnest. So good, so hot, so, so...Fuck! He stops just when I'm about to, to; he knows, he just fucking knows.

"Please, Brian; want you." I bounce my ass up against him, against the bed, wantonly begging for him to fuck me.

"Want to see your beautiful eyes," he whispers barely perceptibly as he rolls me onto my back.

Reaching under the pillow he finds what he needs to bring this first round of lovemaking to fruition. My eyes are closed but only for a moment. I don't need to see, I can hear what he's doing. The rip of the condom packet, the snap of the tube. He's almost ready.

"Need to taste you, little boy."

His mouth swallows my dick down to the base. He slowly lifts up so that only the head of my penis is surrounded by his lips. He sucks it like he's sucking on a tootsie roll pop, drinking my pre-cum like a thirsty man dying for water.

A slick finger enters my ass tenderly preparing me for him, followed by another. He smiles appreciatively, "always soo tight."

"Now Brian." His fingers feel so good but I want, need more.

My legs are up, over his shoulders, ankles locked around his neck. I wince at the pain of entry then relax as he waits till I'm ready.

"Open your eyes, Sunshine." My eyes remain fixed on his, wide, dilated with lust and love.

Within me his long hard cock rakes across my prostate. I imagine I feel each ridge of his penis. I pump against him clenching my muscles. My ears are filled with moans and groans but I'm not sure who's making the noise. Doesn't matter. It's us. The noise, the sounds of fucking, of loving, it's both of us.

"Close Justin." We're both so close.

"Look at me, see me."

Eyes locked, one last mind blowing kiss before we explode. I'm folded in two, my feet high in the air, his arms tight around me, his cock buried in me to the hilt.

"Oh god, Brian!"

"Now Justin!"

Just toe curling.