The bright, shattering crash of Foreman's orgasm sizzled along his nerves, drove him forward in a stuttering rhythm. So fucking good. Amazing. So strong that he felt like he'd been hit by a brick wall and couldn't even be bothered to pick up the pieces. He gave himself over to it completely. Let it take over. Mind and body working purely by instinct, striving to wring every last second of pleasure out of the rub and slide of his cock in House's body.
Foreman felt it the instant House came. He clenched down around Foreman's cock and it drove another surge out of him, the pleasure redoubling for an almost agonizing second. Foreman barely noticed the sudden spurt of House's semen over his hand, over both their stomachs. Instead there was only the bruising, desperate clutch of House's hands and his voice, hoarse and wordless and practically deafening. He'd never thought House could be so loud, or would allow himself to be, but as much as Foreman felt like he'd come so hard he'd fallen apart, there was still some corner of himself that had room to feel smug over how far he'd driven House. He kept thrusting, taking more time to stroke House's cock as the exhilarating rush of pleasure eased. His hand was slick with House's semen, with sweat and lube, and Foreman rubbed it into the silky skin of House's dick, enjoying how hard he was, and the slight jerk in his muscles as Foreman eased him through his orgasm.
Finally, Foreman moved enough to wipe his hand against the bedsheets. House could worry about the stains for once. Foreman just wanted to collapse. Ignore the world. And it would be so easy to do. Close his eyes and drift on the warm tide of endorphins. Let it all go. He groaned one last time, feeling aftershocks shiver through him. There was no way in hell he was going to move. He'd practically melted. Skin and bones disappearing, leaving behind nothing but his mind, disconnected and floating in the aftermath of sensation. No strength left even to push off of House and roll to his side, not that he'd want to. House's body was warm and sweat-slick, and Foreman wanted to nuzzle closer.
God, that had been intense. Foreman moved his head, barely enough to nudge his nose against the side of House's neck. He felt oversensitive, like every touch was magnified. The rasp of House's stubble against his cheek. The slight, almost unconscious twitch of his hips in incremental thrusts, prolonging the moment for as long as possible before he had to pull out. Some distant part of his brain reminded him that he should be worried about work, worried about a hell of a lot of other things besides cuddling with House--or maybe, more simply, worried that all he wanted was to cuddle with House--but they were thoughts that were easy to dismiss, and Foreman let his eyes close, breathing deeply as his heartbeat slowly settled towards something resembling a normal rhythm.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-02-27 09:24 am (UTC)Foreman felt it the instant House came. He clenched down around Foreman's cock and it drove another surge out of him, the pleasure redoubling for an almost agonizing second. Foreman barely noticed the sudden spurt of House's semen over his hand, over both their stomachs. Instead there was only the bruising, desperate clutch of House's hands and his voice, hoarse and wordless and practically deafening. He'd never thought House could be so loud, or would allow himself to be, but as much as Foreman felt like he'd come so hard he'd fallen apart, there was still some corner of himself that had room to feel smug over how far he'd driven House. He kept thrusting, taking more time to stroke House's cock as the exhilarating rush of pleasure eased. His hand was slick with House's semen, with sweat and lube, and Foreman rubbed it into the silky skin of House's dick, enjoying how hard he was, and the slight jerk in his muscles as Foreman eased him through his orgasm.
Finally, Foreman moved enough to wipe his hand against the bedsheets. House could worry about the stains for once. Foreman just wanted to collapse. Ignore the world. And it would be so easy to do. Close his eyes and drift on the warm tide of endorphins. Let it all go. He groaned one last time, feeling aftershocks shiver through him. There was no way in hell he was going to move. He'd practically melted. Skin and bones disappearing, leaving behind nothing but his mind, disconnected and floating in the aftermath of sensation. No strength left even to push off of House and roll to his side, not that he'd want to. House's body was warm and sweat-slick, and Foreman wanted to nuzzle closer.
God, that had been intense. Foreman moved his head, barely enough to nudge his nose against the side of House's neck. He felt oversensitive, like every touch was magnified. The rasp of House's stubble against his cheek. The slight, almost unconscious twitch of his hips in incremental thrusts, prolonging the moment for as long as possible before he had to pull out. Some distant part of his brain reminded him that he should be worried about work, worried about a hell of a lot of other things besides cuddling with House--or maybe, more simply, worried that all he wanted was to cuddle with House--but they were thoughts that were easy to dismiss, and Foreman let his eyes close, breathing deeply as his heartbeat slowly settled towards something resembling a normal rhythm.