Title:
Praise Every Morning
Author:
Joolz
Feedback:
If you like J [email protected]
Rating:
NC17
Pairing:
J/D
Category:
Slash, PWP, ER, Romance
Season/Spoilers: Any/none
Archive:
Please ask
Summary:
Waking up is a pleasure chez Jackson/O’Neill
Warnings:
Graphic sex
Disclaimer:
Not my lovely characters, just playing with them.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Praise Every Morning
By Joolz
~~Jack~~
I love waking up like this; slowly, gently, becoming aware of the warm
body in my arms. He’s awake already, I
can tell by how his fingers are touching me.
It isn’t pressure or force, it’s a quality of presence, of his awareness
of my skin under his hands. It’s like
he treasures the surface of my body more even than a rare ancient
parchment. He’s almost reverent in his
appreciation, trying to draw my essence in through the barrier of his own skin.
I slowly open my eyes and look down at the
bridge of his nose where it rests on my chest.
His head shifts slightly and then it happens, the best moment of the
day. His eyes open and I get my first glimpse
of the infinite depth of his soul. We
gaze at each other in the early morning stillness, then he smiles and my heart
feels full of butterflies, electric butterflies.
He rearranges himself so that he’s looking down
at me, without letting the heat trapped between us dissipate. He lowers his lips to my shoulder and just
lets them rest there. It seems like
he’s engaged in some quite contemplation, some meditative practice, and I’m his
object of worship.
His lips part slightly, and I feel it, the light
tickle of his tongue against my skin.
He’s tasting me. I don’t know
what flavor he’s finding there. I
showered yesterday evening, so maybe there’s a residual ‘April freshness’. Maybe there is a tang of salt left over from
last night’s lovemaking. Maybe he just
tastes…me. Whatever it is, he savors it
as though it were the most exquisite confection in the world, his tongue
flicking me, hot and moist as it explores one square inch of my body.
With a sigh his lips brush over my shoulder as
he shifts to lie on his side. One hand
and leg nudge me, guiding me onto my side as well, and he nestles into my back,
creating a new zone of heat and comfort.
His lips and tongue skim the tops of my shoulder blades and upper back,
just below my neck. He rubs his nose
into my hairline, breathing deeply my night-warm scent. His hand skims feather-soft over my chest,
following the line of hair downwards over my belly, and then comes to rest
cupping my groin. I’m soft under his
hand, still sated from last night, so I can feel his warmth, his strength
loving me, protecting me, without moving a muscle, without the distraction of
my own need. I just lie there and drink
in every minute sensation that his touch provokes, and I am profoundly at
peace.
His thigh works its way between mine, and lifts,
opening and exposing more of me. I tip
my leg outward and let the calf fall behind his knee, giving him all the space,
all the access he wants. I’m aware of
his lips on my back, his teeth touching me now, and can feel his heart beating
faster in his chest. He turns his head
to press his cheek against the back of my neck, and there’s the slightest
trembling in his jaw.
We rest together, bodies entwined, connected by
ties of love that are almost palpable, almost physical filaments linking us
everywhere we touch. Then the warmth is
gone from my penis, and he reaches back to where I know a tube still lies from
last night. Soon I feel his finger
brushing the entrance to my body. I
turn my face to nuzzle the top of his head, and try to open myself wider, and
he kisses my neck.
The probe breaks through and I feel it delving
into me, pushing past the muscles that form a barrier to the outside
world. I feel more of him enter me, a
second finger, and I stretch and open, comfortable with his presence, comforted
by the contact.
Then there’s a new pressure; larger, harder,
hotter. He tilts his hips and enters me
gently, his breath moist on my back. He
pushes in little by little, and I feel limp, weak with satisfaction.
His hand is around in front of me again, rubbing
through the hair on my chest and reaching up briefly to mold to the side of my
head as he kisses behind my ear. Then
it moves down again to hold my penis.
He doesn’t try to do more than that, he just lets me know that it is
loved.
He thrusts languorously into me, without urgency
and I savor the fullness, the sensation of his beautiful body moving against
mine, the honesty, the vulnerability of his desire for me. There’s no straining or searching, only
finding and holding. His movements rock
me gently, and I feel like I’m floating, yet at the same time very much
here. Present and grounded in myself,
in him, in the perfection of the moment.
His rhythm changes nearly imperceptibly, and I
know he’s on the edge. I feel the
liquid fire of his seed as it pumps into my body, hear him panting for breath,
sense the tension in his arms and legs as they clutch me closer to him. Then he begins to relax, tremors running
through his muscles as they loosen and release. He slides out of me and readjusts our legs so that mine lie
together again and one of his is draped over my thigh.
His fingers splay out from around my genitals to
tickle my thighs, then his hand moves up my flank to press, palm wide open,
against the center of my chest. I move
now, just to place my hand over his, and I can feel our hearts beating, his and
mine, in perfect harmony.
I love it when we do this. I love knowing that when he comes inside me,
it isn’t the result of fierce friction, but is because his heart is overflowing
and needs to find a way out, to find a way into me. It fills me with an unexpected contentment to know that finally,
after so much time, he accepts that he can do this, that I want him to do this,
without asking for permission. He
understands that if I’m not ‘up to it’ myself, it’s no reflection on him, and
he doesn’t have to find a way to compensate me. He realizes that I need this just as much as he does.
These are the times, more than any other, when I
get the sense of permanence, that our love isn’t limited to one time or
place. It’s an ineradicable bond,
now. There’s no more wondering or
insecurity, just the two of us so close that we almost become
indistinguishable.
I lock my fingers through his and press his hand
to my heart. My love.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~Daniel~~
I don’t know how he does it. I awaken suddenly, and find that he has
already arranged himself exactly where he wants to be. My back is flat on the mattress, but my
lower body is turned at the waist so that one leg, bent at the knee, rests at a
90 degree angle from my torso. This
amazing guy has his head pillowed on that thigh, and has my other leg flung
over his side, so my crotch is wide open in front of his face. He has my dick in his mouth. My clever,
sneaky, greedy lover has himself curled around and intertwined with me so that
he can take advantage of just the precise part of me that he wants.
Now, I know I’m a heavy sleeper, and it has
definitely happened that I’ve been moved before without waking up. But I can guarantee that no one else in the
universe could take my dick in their mouth without me jumping half way to the
moon. It’s a sign of how much I trust
him; even unconscious, anywhere his body touches mine, anywhere, is good and
right.
I’m still completely flaccid, and he isn’t
trying to stimulate me. He’s just
holding me inside of him, and I feel that sensitive organ, so integral to my
sense of self, bathed and cradled in the protective womb of his mouth. The arm he isn’t lying on is hooked under my
thigh, and his hand gently cups my ass.
I feel a slight pressure and swishing as he relishes the feel of me on
his tongue.
It’s funny, he teases me about having an anal
fetish, but I have plenty of evidence to demonstrate his own oral
fixation. Luckily, neither of us has a
problem with indulging the other’s predilections.
I tighten my leg against his back to signal that
I’m awake and enjoying his attentions.
He caresses my ass and sucks me further in, beginning to take a more
active interest in his captured plaything.
A long, pulling suction encourages the local blood flow, and I feel my
dick starting to fill. His mouth is so
hot, and best of all, it’s his mouth.
That thought still thrills me; that this particular man loves me, wants
me. There’s elation mixed in with the
need I’m starting to feel so urgently.
As I harden, I feel his lips twitch into a smile
around my flesh. He loves to feel me
grow in his mouth, loves to feel the life in my body, the response to his
touch. He’s so pleased that he
redoubles his efforts and shows me just how spectacularly talented he is. And he’s very talented. The way his tongue runs up and down along
the bottom of my dick, pausing and probing at the most sensitive spots. The way he keeps taking in more of me, when
I can’t figure out where he’s putting it all.
The way he sucks me. Oh my god.
As good as it is, I want more. I want to feel nothing but him. I want to accept the invitation as he pulls
me rhythmically into him. My hips jerk
into the stimulation; I’m starting to lose it now. He doesn’t slow down or pull back, but leads me further towards
the abyss. Just when I think I can’t
stand any more, I feel him pushing against my anus, pressing in, breaching me
with his long, callused finger. He
slides deeper, stroking me inside. He
hits my prostate and my brain nearly short circuits. I’m so gone, so gone on him.
He’s in me and I’m in him and he’s giving me so much pleasure that I
can’t take it. I’m moaning and
writhing, but I feel a subtle change in angle and force my eyes to open and
look down. I see that I’m almost
entirely enveloped in his mouth, see his lips pressing near the base of my
dick. And I see his shining eyes
looking up at me.
He loves to watch me as he pleasures me. Says my face at the moment of orgasm is a
sight to behold. Can he possibly know
what it does to me to know that he’s watching?
I feel it building fast. I’m going to come. I’m going to come NOW!
I’m arched back against the mattress as I explode into his mouth, and
he’s still sucking and stroking. He
pulls deep and powerfully, drawing everything out, everything I am. And he keeps on. When I think there’s nothing left, that I’m empty and hollow to
the core, he wrenches more of me out.
Finally I collapse lifelessly onto the bed, no
more to give. Is that his signal that
it’s ended, time to roll over and get on with life? No it isn’t, not to my lover.
He doesn’t release me. He rests
his head back down on my now sweating thigh, and runs his hand from my ass up
my back as far as he can reach, and closes his eyes, still holding me to
him.
Every cell in my body tingling, I glance over at
the alarm clock. Ten minutes until the
buzzer sounds. I know that he will
continue to suckle me for every one of them.
This is our time. No matter what
else happens in the day, these ten minutes of mutual surrender will be
ingrained in our minds. This connection
will not be broken no matter who we’re with or where we are. I’ll know.
He’ll know.
Every day for the rest of our lives we’ll
know. The miracle of this morning, of
all the other mornings, can’t be erased or lost. The love we share when our bodies join is precisely what holds the
universe together, as it holds us.
Meaning of life stuff.
I reach down and burrow my fingers into his
short hair and smile. He sighs, and the
vibration travels up through my body, and lodges forever in my heart.
End
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