Foreman hissed as House pulled his finger out. He'd said more, not for House to stop. House's hands massaging his ass, then reaching to give his cock a few pumps, still had traces of lube on them, enough to turn his strokes slippery and so fucking good. God, that feeling. Foreman huffed out a breath of air, kissing House back, hoping that this wasn't going to be more of a delay than House slicking up his fingers again. He needed more, and he was beginning to want it more than he cared about what he'd be showing to House.
House's shove came completely by surprise, and House had pushed out from underneath him before Foreman knew what the hell he was doing. He lifted his head, but before he could roll to his side, House was on top of him, one hand planted in the center of his back. An instant of uncertainty made Foreman break out in nervous sweat, and he resisted, getting his elbows under him to shrug House off. House was heavier than he'd expected, though, and before he could rear up with more power, or stop and think, House was touching him again. Slick and hot, two fingers this time, and Foreman dropped his face down to the pillow, groaning hoarsely. Slow. Don't--not too much-- House seemed to read his mind, because the first pushes were--not tentative, or hesitant--but careful, and at the same time, firm and unrelenting. Foreman panted hard, forcing himself to unclench, to accept it. Christ, he didn't know that House was going to do this. Get on top of him like this. His heart was slamming in his throat, he could barely get enough oxygen, and he had no chance at all to think about whether he wanted to take it all back. Then, with another intense shock, House found his prostate again, and Foreman was lost, his brain whiting out for a second.
"Ohh--oh fuck. House. Oh God." Foreman couldn't stay still. He lifted his ass in time with House's thrusts--faster, fuck, he wasn't stopping, and the waves of pleasure roared over him, each one breaking over him before the last had receded. Couldn't stop. Jerking up into the touch, his whole body contracting each time, struggling under House's weight to get his knees under him so that he could push back, and up. His legs were flexing, and he ground the side of his face into the pillow as he arched his back. Spreading his legs. Sounds pouring out of him with each thrust. On some level he knew the way he was moving was practically begging for it, but his mind was buried, and all he could do, all he wanted, was to push for more. He could feel House's weight, the looming heat of him, the push of his cock against Foreman's ass.
Then, House's fingers were gone, and Foreman panted for a moment, getting his bearings back. He ground his cock against the bed, straining to get more pressure, aching for the sharp, electric pleasure of having House's fingers inside. House was close, his breath heavy and hot next to Foreman's ear. Foreman jerked his head aside, biting down on his lip. He'd already been letting out more words and jumbled sounds than he'd been planning on. House's low, eager demand made Foreman want to be contrary, not to admit anything. But he needed it. Wanted it. Was already so fucking close. The slight burn and ache in his ass felt more like a desire to be filled, to have House's dick inside him, rubbing the way his fingers had, but fuller, stronger, more powerful. Driving him out of his fucking mind with pleasure. And House had already shown how good he'd be, careful at first and then going hard enough to make Foreman come apart.
"Yeah," he breathed before he'd even thought he was going to speak, imagining it, imagining the incredible surge of feeling. He exhaled hard, nudging his ass up against House's cock. God, he'd already said it. Already more than begged. There was no point in holding back. Foreman kept his voice low, barely turned away from the pillow when he finally said it. "Yeah, fuck me, I want you to."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-04-13 01:20 am (UTC)House's shove came completely by surprise, and House had pushed out from underneath him before Foreman knew what the hell he was doing. He lifted his head, but before he could roll to his side, House was on top of him, one hand planted in the center of his back. An instant of uncertainty made Foreman break out in nervous sweat, and he resisted, getting his elbows under him to shrug House off. House was heavier than he'd expected, though, and before he could rear up with more power, or stop and think, House was touching him again. Slick and hot, two fingers this time, and Foreman dropped his face down to the pillow, groaning hoarsely. Slow. Don't--not too much-- House seemed to read his mind, because the first pushes were--not tentative, or hesitant--but careful, and at the same time, firm and unrelenting. Foreman panted hard, forcing himself to unclench, to accept it. Christ, he didn't know that House was going to do this. Get on top of him like this. His heart was slamming in his throat, he could barely get enough oxygen, and he had no chance at all to think about whether he wanted to take it all back. Then, with another intense shock, House found his prostate again, and Foreman was lost, his brain whiting out for a second.
"Ohh--oh fuck. House. Oh God." Foreman couldn't stay still. He lifted his ass in time with House's thrusts--faster, fuck, he wasn't stopping, and the waves of pleasure roared over him, each one breaking over him before the last had receded. Couldn't stop. Jerking up into the touch, his whole body contracting each time, struggling under House's weight to get his knees under him so that he could push back, and up. His legs were flexing, and he ground the side of his face into the pillow as he arched his back. Spreading his legs. Sounds pouring out of him with each thrust. On some level he knew the way he was moving was practically begging for it, but his mind was buried, and all he could do, all he wanted, was to push for more. He could feel House's weight, the looming heat of him, the push of his cock against Foreman's ass.
Then, House's fingers were gone, and Foreman panted for a moment, getting his bearings back. He ground his cock against the bed, straining to get more pressure, aching for the sharp, electric pleasure of having House's fingers inside. House was close, his breath heavy and hot next to Foreman's ear. Foreman jerked his head aside, biting down on his lip. He'd already been letting out more words and jumbled sounds than he'd been planning on. House's low, eager demand made Foreman want to be contrary, not to admit anything. But he needed it. Wanted it. Was already so fucking close. The slight burn and ache in his ass felt more like a desire to be filled, to have House's dick inside him, rubbing the way his fingers had, but fuller, stronger, more powerful. Driving him out of his fucking mind with pleasure. And House had already shown how good he'd be, careful at first and then going hard enough to make Foreman come apart.
"Yeah," he breathed before he'd even thought he was going to speak, imagining it, imagining the incredible surge of feeling. He exhaled hard, nudging his ass up against House's cock. God, he'd already said it. Already more than begged. There was no point in holding back. Foreman kept his voice low, barely turned away from the pillow when he finally said it. "Yeah, fuck me, I want you to."