House hardly cared to fight against Foreman's smug tone of voice, but he managed a weak, breathless, "Didn't think--there was a"--he paused to draw a deeper, but harsh breath--"'yes or no' question in there." After he spoke, he wished he hadn't said anything at all, the quiet rasp of his voice, the stop-start rhythm of his words revealing more than House intended, and he squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, away from Foreman. He heard Foreman fumbling through the bedside table drawer, knowing exactly what he was looking for, and House tried to quiet the anticipation, the hot, tingling ache building low in his groin. He tried to force himself to stay still--stop fucking squirming and arching like he was begging for it.
He refused to spread his legs any further, as if he was that desperate, when Foreman moved down his body, but couldn't help the small, quiet noise that slipped out of his mouth at the sound of Foreman's words. He wasn't sure if Foreman was serious, if he really intended to make him wait even longer, but, God, he really didn't want to wait anymore. He touch himself soon if Foreman didn't, even though it really wasn't what he wanted. He raised his head to look down at Foreman, trying to determine if he was serious, and he stared, watching transfixed as Foreman didn't make him wait, but took his dick in his hand and brought it to his mouth. House's breaths exploded out of him in tiny, fast bursts as Foreman's lips closed around his shaft. Wet heat surrounded the head, and House tried to restrain himself from pushing his cock further into it, wanting more. He let his head fall back down to the mattress, a choked noise sneaking out of him between hard breaths. He didn't think Foreman would refuse such a good chance to tease him, draw out the torture as long as possible, but, now that he'd started, House hoped that Foreman wouldn't stop, or slow down, because, God, House wasn't sure that he could take it. He just wanted Foreman to keep going, suck him harder. He figured some verbal encouragement couldn't hurt if it meant that Foreman didn't stop, and he ground out a rough, whispered, "Yeah." One hand rose to Foreman's shoulder, and he wanted to make sure he kept him there, didn't let him back away.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-12-18 06:31 am (UTC)He refused to spread his legs any further, as if he was that desperate, when Foreman moved down his body, but couldn't help the small, quiet noise that slipped out of his mouth at the sound of Foreman's words. He wasn't sure if Foreman was serious, if he really intended to make him wait even longer, but, God, he really didn't want to wait anymore. He touch himself soon if Foreman didn't, even though it really wasn't what he wanted. He raised his head to look down at Foreman, trying to determine if he was serious, and he stared, watching transfixed as Foreman didn't make him wait, but took his dick in his hand and brought it to his mouth. House's breaths exploded out of him in tiny, fast bursts as Foreman's lips closed around his shaft. Wet heat surrounded the head, and House tried to restrain himself from pushing his cock further into it, wanting more. He let his head fall back down to the mattress, a choked noise sneaking out of him between hard breaths. He didn't think Foreman would refuse such a good chance to tease him, draw out the torture as long as possible, but, now that he'd started, House hoped that Foreman wouldn't stop, or slow down, because, God, House wasn't sure that he could take it. He just wanted Foreman to keep going, suck him harder. He figured some verbal encouragement couldn't hurt if it meant that Foreman didn't stop, and he ground out a rough, whispered, "Yeah." One hand rose to Foreman's shoulder, and he wanted to make sure he kept him there, didn't let him back away.