House couldn't hold back a smile at Foreman's response, letting it spread as he released a single, breathless laugh against Foreman's lips. He withdrew his finger, sliding his hands over Foreman's ass, around his hips. One hand wrapped around Foreman's dick, giving it a few hard strokes as House leaned up to steal another kiss. God, if he didn't do something else, switch this up, House was going to tell Foreman to fuck him anyway, and as much as he'd like it, he wanted what Foreman was offering. Wanted to prove that he wouldn't leave Foreman hanging. That Foreman could trust him when it fucking mattered. Wanted to keep going.
He tore out of the kiss abruptly, shoving roughly at Foreman's body. House grunted with the effort of pushing Foreman off him, forcing Foreman to fall onto his front. House hurried, opened the bottle and slicked another finger before Foreman could recover enough to wriggle away and change his mind. Now House was on board, imagining how fucking satisfying it would be to drive Foreman out of control. He doubted many people ever caught a glimpse of it, never mind be the cause of it. Even when Foreman allowed himself to let go enough for him to notice, it was always through the heavy haze of his orgasm, when he couldn't focus on it. But Foreman said he wanted this, and House wasn't about to let him take the words back now that all his previous awkwardness had been replaced with hot, driving desire. Desire to feel Foreman, tight and warm, clenching around him and pushing back, swearing and giving up everything he held onto so fucking closely. To see, and feel, and hear all of that before House let Foreman have his control back. Then he could let go, and, God, it would be so fucking good.
House pressed his left hand hard against Foreman's back, letting it take some of his weight as he leaned on his side. He swept his right over Foreman's ass, rubbed his fingertips over Foreman's perineum before pushing inside, starting slow all over again. Pushing just a little and waiting for Foreman's body to relax before going farther. Fuck, this was going to be good. It was getting harder to wait; House's cock ached, heavy and straining, precome leaking from the tip. He wanted to touch himself, give himself a few jerks to the same slow rhythm his fingers were moving, but he kept his hand on Foreman's back, trying to hold him there, keep him there. He wanted to feel Foreman buck and writhe, fucking let go, even for a minute or two, underneath him. So close. Getting so hard to wait. Foreman was starting to open up easier now, House's fingers sliding smoothly. He didn't know how Foreman could wait like this every fucking time. It was driving him a little crazy. Jesus.
House leaned down, twisting a little to reach across Foreman for the condom. "Yeah, you want that?" House asked, pushing insistently and finding Foreman's prostate again. "You want this?" House rubbed insistently, glancing up at Foreman's face, over his whole body, watching muscles shift and flex. He looked so fucking hot. House kept rubbing, trying to short-circuit Foreman's brain, distract him enough to let House tear the condom foil open with his teeth, shake off the wrapper, and pull the condom over the tip of his dick. It was hard to concentrate, his attention torn between the jolts of sensation at his own touch as he got the condom secure enough to roll it on, and keeping his rhythm inside Foreman.
It didn't matter for much longer; House pulled his fingers out, hoping Foreman was as ready as he'd ever be, and spread lube over his dick, letting out a moan. "You want more, Foreman," House said, rolling, half-falling on top of Foreman. He wasn't asking. He leaned on his left elbow, pushing up with his right hand to take the weight off of his right side as he settled his body over Foreman's. He ground his cock against Foreman's ass, wanting to push in, fuck Foreman until neither of them could think anymore. "You still want me to fuck you," House said, breathing heavily, lips grazing Foreman's ear. "Say it, Foreman. You still want me to fuck you."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-04-13 12:11 am (UTC)He tore out of the kiss abruptly, shoving roughly at Foreman's body. House grunted with the effort of pushing Foreman off him, forcing Foreman to fall onto his front. House hurried, opened the bottle and slicked another finger before Foreman could recover enough to wriggle away and change his mind. Now House was on board, imagining how fucking satisfying it would be to drive Foreman out of control. He doubted many people ever caught a glimpse of it, never mind be the cause of it. Even when Foreman allowed himself to let go enough for him to notice, it was always through the heavy haze of his orgasm, when he couldn't focus on it. But Foreman said he wanted this, and House wasn't about to let him take the words back now that all his previous awkwardness had been replaced with hot, driving desire. Desire to feel Foreman, tight and warm, clenching around him and pushing back, swearing and giving up everything he held onto so fucking closely. To see, and feel, and hear all of that before House let Foreman have his control back. Then he could let go, and, God, it would be so fucking good.
House pressed his left hand hard against Foreman's back, letting it take some of his weight as he leaned on his side. He swept his right over Foreman's ass, rubbed his fingertips over Foreman's perineum before pushing inside, starting slow all over again. Pushing just a little and waiting for Foreman's body to relax before going farther. Fuck, this was going to be good. It was getting harder to wait; House's cock ached, heavy and straining, precome leaking from the tip. He wanted to touch himself, give himself a few jerks to the same slow rhythm his fingers were moving, but he kept his hand on Foreman's back, trying to hold him there, keep him there. He wanted to feel Foreman buck and writhe, fucking let go, even for a minute or two, underneath him. So close. Getting so hard to wait. Foreman was starting to open up easier now, House's fingers sliding smoothly. He didn't know how Foreman could wait like this every fucking time. It was driving him a little crazy. Jesus.
House leaned down, twisting a little to reach across Foreman for the condom. "Yeah, you want that?" House asked, pushing insistently and finding Foreman's prostate again. "You want this?" House rubbed insistently, glancing up at Foreman's face, over his whole body, watching muscles shift and flex. He looked so fucking hot. House kept rubbing, trying to short-circuit Foreman's brain, distract him enough to let House tear the condom foil open with his teeth, shake off the wrapper, and pull the condom over the tip of his dick. It was hard to concentrate, his attention torn between the jolts of sensation at his own touch as he got the condom secure enough to roll it on, and keeping his rhythm inside Foreman.
It didn't matter for much longer; House pulled his fingers out, hoping Foreman was as ready as he'd ever be, and spread lube over his dick, letting out a moan. "You want more, Foreman," House said, rolling, half-falling on top of Foreman. He wasn't asking. He leaned on his left elbow, pushing up with his right hand to take the weight off of his right side as he settled his body over Foreman's. He ground his cock against Foreman's ass, wanting to push in, fuck Foreman until neither of them could think anymore. "You still want me to fuck you," House said, breathing heavily, lips grazing Foreman's ear. "Say it, Foreman. You still want me to fuck you."