When Perry said that me coming didn't mean it was over, I naturally assumed he meant since he hadn't gotten off yet, I was fully expected to rectify that situation. I mean, Perry van Shrike is hardly the type of gay who gets his rocks off blowing straight dudes and then gracefully retiring to the bathroom to rub one out into his fancy hand-towels. Not that I am, anymore- straight I mean. And even if I was, I mean, come on, I'd at least have the common courtesy to offer a hand job, Jesus.
But leaving aside my nebulous sexual orientation for a moment, I was used to pleasuring someone after I'd already gotten mine, if not with this particular combination of dangly bits. So I leaned up and pressed a long kiss to his mouth, flicking my tongue against his, feeling a little lightheaded at how fucking surreal it was to be making out with Perry, tasting myself on his lips, and began loosening the tie of his gray silk paisley pajama pants. (Which, by the way, are totally reminiscent of gay Hugh Hefner, but whatever.)
What I hadn't counted on was how goddamn patient Perry can be when he has finally gotten something he wants. See, Perry had clearly decided how he would fuck me, when I would come, when he would come, how many times, and possibly in what positions- and by god, that's how it would fucking happen.
But, shit, I'm getting ahead of myself. What I'm trying to get across here is, victorious Perry is like a particularly evil cat playing with a mouse it's caught, (or a lion with a gazelle, to repeat an earlier metaphor. Wait. Simile? Fuck it.) just without all the dismemberment.
He swatted my hands away, even as the steady pattern of his breathing stuttered when my hand "accidentally slipped" to palm the (rock-hard, I mean, seriously, that man has the self control of a fucking nun) erection through his pants.
"Who said you get to touch?" he murmured, a wicked cast to those lips, one hand returning to rest significantly on the back of my neck. "No… I don't think you've earned that, yet."
That sent a jolt straight to my prick, and I didn't even know why. And let me just point out, I am not 19 years old anymore. There was no way little Harry was stirring again this soon after an orgasm, except that he totally was. Everything about sex with Perry was fucking baffling, so far- not that I was complaining. I tugged my boxers back up around my hips and tried to step out of my pants without taking off my shoes, which, sure, almost left me sprawled on my ass, but I got it sorted eventually. Perry snorted inelegantly, watching me battle my clothing with one eyebrow quirked, but reached out a hand to steady me nonetheless, tucking my discarded pants and belt under one arm.
"Dumbass…" he rolled his eyes affectionately, pulling me in for another kiss, nearly bruising but so, so good, then turned and strolled casually toward the stairs. I gaped at his retreating back for a second, feeling the loss of physical contact with crushing intensity, until he paused, foot resting on the first step, and cast a glance over his shoulder that could be most accurately described as "haughty", had it been less incredibly fucking masculine. And sexy. "Coming?"
And then the fucker turned around and kept walking, never once doubting that I would follow. He is one cocky asshole, tell you what.
Of course I fucking followed him.
Have you ever noticed how great a view you get, following a person up a flight of stairs? That t-shirt he was wearing, the same one I'd brought him the night before, was stretched just tight enough across his broad shoulders to show off the flex of his back, those smooth pants catching the light in a dull sheen, highlighting a pretty fucking fantastic ass- I took the steps a few at a time, bounding up behind him, and, unable to resist, grabbed it. I needed to know if it was as firm as it looked. You know. For science.
Perry snickered. "Single gayest thing you've ever done."
His approximation of my voice is disturbingly accurate
I gasped, pretending to swoon, still a little bit silly on endorphins and various post-orgasm happy chemicals. "You fiend!" I trilled in an annoying falsetto, "One hummer from you and I'm goddamn Liberace!"
Perry paused at the door to the master bedroom and leaned against the wall for a second, staring blithely at his nails, amusement quirking his lips. "Well, you still have one last chance to escape with your heterosexuality relatively intact, chief." There was something a little guarded in his eyes when he glanced up, despite the smile. I grinned.
"Nah. Shit's over-rated, anyway."
This was punctuated by a peck to the side of his jaw and a quick, groping exploration of his fine, fine tuchus with each hand, which triggered a growl from him and a giggle like a teenage girl on ecstasy from me as I dodged, ran, and proceeded to trip on a corner of his ostentatious oriental rug. Perry, ever the opportunist, used this brief stumble to tackle me onto the bed like a fucking linebacker jungle-cat, hold me down, and ravage my poor, defenseless mouth until I stopped half-heartedly trying to escape. I glanced at Perry's hands, pinning my wrists to the mattress.
"This seems familiar…" The words came out in a panting little chuckle, the depth of my voice surprising even me for a second.
Perry's eyes were all shiny and happy, and I couldn't help the little contented balloon that inflated in my stomach at the sight of a full blown smile on his face. The man didn't laugh nearly enough- really laugh, I mean. I'd commit hari kari before letting him hear me say it, but Perry has this smile that splits his whole face, crinkles his eyes up, and generally makes him look like a kid at Christmas. I squirmed underneath him, beginning to react to his proximity, the warm breath against my cheek, to the weight of him against me. My thigh slipped between his legs to press firmly against his cock, and Perry's eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenching as he tried to bite back a guttural moan, hips jerking minutely, almost erratically, almost like he couldn't stop them.
I flushed. I was doing that, I was the one testing his unwavering control. What a goddamn rush. Not that I was unaffected- the passably hard state of my cock made that plenty obvious, but a smug little smile twitched at the corners of my mouth, regardless. I made Perry crazy. Fuck yeah.
My internal celebration did not go unnoticed. His eyes narrowed, clearly taking it as a challenge, and he grinned his shark-grin again, all teeth and predation. I swallowed. One does not challenge Gay Perry at sex. One will lose. One might even lose all cognitive faculties for a week.
He was a flurry of calculated motion, divesting me of my shirt and boxers with incredible economy of movement, and I barely had time to notice that how vulnerable (yet hot) it was to be naked as the day you were born while the other person remained clothed, before his mouth was on mine again, exploring the roof of my mouth, my lips, that spot on my jaw that drives me nuts-
Perry kisses with his whole mouth, his whole body, even- he kisses in a way that I've never felt before, never would've expected from him, because it's not neat, and it's not compartmentalized-he commits totally to it, unselfconscious; instinctive.
My brain short circuited somewhere around that point, and the only coherent thoughts were pretty much exclusively about Perry's mouth, lips, teeth, tongue- at some point he must've flipped me onto my stomach, because he was biting at my shoulder- then he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, and looked down at me… triumphantly? I cocked my head, confused, tried to reach for him to drag him back dow-
Oh. Oh yeah, that would probably do it. The triumphant expression, I mean. See, my hands were secured firmly to his bedposts by a pair of thick black straps that he'd pulled from god knows where, and I probably could've gotten out of the things in, like, four and a half seconds if I'd wanted to, but my skin was already beginning to buzz with anticipation, and, frankly, I was impressed that he pulled it off, so I just whistled and threw an appreciative glance over my shoulder. "Nice one, man."
"Liberace." I mouthed, which was probably kind of cheeky, considering I was naked and tied to his bed and all. He smirked, stripping off his own shirt and lowering himself over me, teasing, scraping his teeth right over my jugular- I arched back toward him, gasping, because the movement slid his cock against the cleft of my ass and mine against the mattress. The thin fabric keeping me from skin to skin contact was suddenly the bane of my very existence. Perry's hands dragged down my sides, his fingernails leaving long red lines as he nudged my legs wider and began to plant lingering kisses along my spine.
He slid a pillow underneath my hips, giving me one firm stroke, and I shuddered hard, a little noise drifting out of my throat as he pulled away again. He rustled in the drawer for something, lube probably, and I was drunk on that insane mix of lust and nervous anticipation again, unbearably tense- Perry's hands and mouth were making their way from my ankles to my thighs, too, too slow; moist, hot breath against the curve of my ass. I groaned-
"Fucking- cock tease-" the words were strangled, but audible, and Perry's hands on me stilled.
"What was that?" he asked, leaning forward, lips grazing my ear, voice deceptively light. That steel edge from earlier, when I'd hesitated in following an order, had returned, the comment about striping my ass echoing in my head, and suddenly, I needed to know what he would do if I really got 'impertinent'-
I twisted my head to meet his eyes, unable to resist. "Fucking. Cock tease." I repeated, enunciation precise, going for some of his patented condescension. Surprise, vague annoyance, and something like pride flashed in his eyes for half a second, then he clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head.
"Your self preservation instincts are terrible, Lockhart. It's like you want this-" he'd picked up my belt again, and I realized abruptly that I probably wouldn't be able to look at it without popping a boner for the rest of my life- he dragged it across my ass, smooth and cool, and I shivered, breath coming faster, my head light- "Look at you… And I haven't even done anything yet."
I opened my mouth to respond, but Perry's hand had connected sharply with my ass, once- twice- thrice, and Christ it burned by the third one, because he wasn't holding back, wasn't even pausing between strokes so I could catch my breath- I bit my lip, hard, but couldn't quite stifle a whimper- four, five, six, all in the same place, intensifying the burn until it had distorted into a blooming rush of pain, then Perry's hand stilled, rubbing softly across the the abused, heated flesh. His mouth was next to my ear again, voice a low purr-
"That hurt?" he asked, and I nodded, tasting blood, "Good." That was all it took; I was bucking against the pillow under my hips, completely losing it, unable to breathe or even think of anything but the way the pain had dulled into licks of heat that sent jolts straight to my cock-
"Perry, please-" I croaked, not even sure what I was asking for, spreading my legs wider unconsciously, then he was kneeling between my legs again, biting sharply at my hip as he slipped two slick fingers into me- I moaned, long and rough, burying my face in the pillow, a deep tremor shaking my to the core as his fingers brushed that spot inside of me, and I wondered for a minute if I'd grown a second dick- and holy fuck, he was some kind of fucking pro or something, the tips of my toes beginning to tingle.
I thrust harder into the pillows, trying in vain to get some friction. I could feel it coiling at the base of my spine, already, because the mild discomfort of his fingers stretching me with each smooth thrust- and, oh god, adding a third- was melting into white-hot pleasure with each brush against that fucking spot, and, god I would do anything he fucking wanted as long as he didn't stop, and there was no fucking way this man had me coming in under five minutes twice in a row. Only he did. I muffled another shout in the pillow, and Perry didn't seem to much like that- he grabbed my hair with his other hand, forcing my head back. "Let me fucking hear you, Harry-" his voice was rough and brutal, wholly merciless, fingers twisting inside me, and I keened, completely nonverbal, muscles beginning to spasm, jerking against the man behind me, coming, everything going white behind my eyes-
I lay there. Breathing. My head felt like it was full of cotton and I was weak as a day old kitten, and I couldn't even muster up the energy to care.
"Goddamn. Fuckhead, you shouldn't have been wasting your time with women all these years. Shit." Perry's voice warbled behind me and I heard it as though underwater. I blinked a few times, trying to work out a) what he'd just said, and, b) what the fuck it meant. I wiggled out of the restraints without thinking about it and turned over, flopping on my back and looking up at him curiously. He rolled his eyes at my Houdini impression, but they were still dilated with lust, his cheeks still deeply flushed (and that flush ran all the way down past his navel, which was incredibly hot. Much like the dark blonde hair disappearing down past his waistband, proving that his hair color is, indeed, natural) and those clever, clever lips remained swollen and moist.
"What'chu mean?" I pulled him down beside me and wrapped myself around him like an octopus.
"You just fucking came without either of us touching your dick." he said, sounding awed. "You're a goddamn unicorn."
I snorted, eyes fluttering closed. " 'S weird, never happened before."
Perry's lips parted, nostrils flaring like he was doing his best not to attack me or something.
"Let's see if we can make it happen again."
I tried to protest, but he was halfway on top of me, pinning me down with the weight of him, fingers slipping into me again, and it was too much sensation this soon after an orgasm, but he didn't heed my weak pleading and slowly began to work me up- I grabbed at Perry's wrist, trying to force it to slow, to give me a little time to recover, but he just smiled against my neck, teeth marking me with a quickness.
"No- Per- I cant-" I groaned hoarsely, barely able to grind out the words, overwhelmed by the fact that my nerve endings seemed to be on fire- he slipped in a third finger, speeding the movement, and I couldn't do anything but fight for breath.
"Every time you say no, I'm just going to go faster, make you come harder." he informed me in a resonant snarl, hand brushing over the hypersensitive head of my cock, and I swear to god, I blacked the fuck out as my skull flew apart.
When I became aware again, it was to the sensation of Perry's tongue.
"…Perry?" I croaked, squinting up at him, "I don't think I can feel my dick."
He grinned, unrepentant, raising his chin to rest it on my chest, still laying between my legs. My hip flexors were going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow. Then he sat up, pushed down his pajama pants, and rolled a condom over his cock, languid, relishing the sensation. I pushed myself up on my elbows, tongue darting out to moisten my lips, unable to tear my eyes away as he slicked lube over himself- god, he was so hard, his dick curving up toward his navel and nearly touching it. I'd been right- there was no way it would fit. I suddenly realized why he'd coaxed enough orgasms out of me to leave me boneless and relaxed- he slid off the bed and tugged me to the edge of the mattress, hooking my legs around his waist, the wide, blunt head of his cock pressing at my ass. "You ready?" he murmured roughly, doing his level best to keep himself from pushing in and fucking me through the mattress. I just nodded, mute, too transfixed by the sight of him to come up with any words, because he was pushing into me, slow and steady- three fingers couldn't possibly fucking compare to this feeling of being stretched and full- I whined as he struck my prostate again, my own dick beginning to fill, and there was no way I could possibly come again, but it didn't even matter, because Perry was fucking me, eyes closed, light playing off of his skin, and the man was fucking gorgeous-
I watched his face as he came, his mouth dropping open in a raw, unrestrained moan, his hands tight on my hips, his thrusts stuttering erratically as he totally lost control, face screwed up in an exquisite sort of ecstasy before he collapsed onto my chest. His breath panted against my neck.
When he finally pulled out of me, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash, a wash of physical emptiness crested over me. I wondered vaguely if this was how women felt after sex, but the thought was unformed and out of my head before I had time to consider it too much. I curled myself around Perry again, and he chuckled, tipping my chin up to kiss me softly. His sleepy, satiated smile was the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.