Table Leg
folder
S through Z › Sentinel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,276
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
S through Z › Sentinel
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,276
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own The Sentinel, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Table Leg
TITLE: Table Leg
AUTHOR: Fyrbyrd
CATEGORIES: PWP
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: m/m
SPOILERS: None
PAIRINGS: J/B
SUMMARY: Humping a table leg takes on a very true meaning.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, they own me. They Belong to Pet Fly.
Table Leg
by Fyrbyrd
Blair came out of the shower just as the phone rang, still rubbing a towel through his hair, another towel around his hips.
“I’ll get it,” he said moving to it and picking it up, “Hello.” He heard the ominous click of a hang-up then the tone. “Okay,” he said hanging up.
He began to move back to his room, but suddenly felt the towel about his hips loosen and fall. He bent down to pick it up.
A groan sounded behind him. He turned holding the towel to his groin, the other flipping down to join it.
Jim stood at the top of the stairs.
“Jim?” inquired Blair, “Are you all right?”
The Sentinel was wearing his grey robe and he began moving down the stairs his eyes never leaving his guide’s body.
Blair tried to maneuver the towel about his loins, but only succeeded in displaying his genitals to his Sentinel.
Another groan. This time Blair turned red with embarrassment and wondered at Jim’s sound effects.
“Hey, ah, sorry for the strip show,” he blurted out.
Jim came up to him, his nostrils flaring, “Why?” he asked his voice husky.
Blair looked up at his partner, saw the gleam, an almost feral gleam and realized he had been enjoying the glimpses of naked flesh he otherwise did not normally display.
Jim reached out and touched his face, something Blair was used to, but this time it was more. It was a caress, gentle, but Blair saw raw need in the other’s eyes.
The grey robe was opened and Blair’s eyes directed down. Now he was seeing more of Jim that he usually did, well, except for that time on the oil rig, only this time Jim’s body was showing an added reaction. He was fully aroused.
The hand lifted to his chin, lifting his face, asking a question without words. Blair leaned up, Jim leaned down. Mouths met. Tongues dueled. Towels spilled to the floor forgotten.
Jim began maneuvering them over to the table, too caught up in his need for words, he was practically eating his guide, his hands roaming over his skin, his hair. The mouth moved to his neck, biting gently. Blair gasped for breath and moaned when Jim found just the right spot. He knew there was no way to stop this, but that was not what he wanted to do. His own erection nudging Jim’s inner thigh.
Jim pulled back at the feeling, groaned again then dived for Blair’s left nipple as Blair was backed into a chair at the table. Blair ran his hands through Jim’s hair
“Oh man, Oh man,” chanted Blair as Jim attacked the other, licking, sucking biting, then pulled back again to go once more for his mouth.
Bending slightly at the knees, Jim pushed his hips forward grinding his cock against Blair’s.
Blair hummed in Jim’s mouth, his hands sliding down to Jim’s buttocks squeezing, pushing encouraging.
Again Jim pulled back, his eyes scanning the room for something with a predatory gleam. He spotted a small bottle of virgin olive oil, moving swiftly he grabbed it and returned to his guide. He opened the bottle quickly and slicked his fingers and took Blair’s mouth again.
Finally relinquishing the mouth he had been busily devouring, Jim turned his partner at the corner of the table and gently pushed him down. He tapped his upper thighs making him spread his legs, then fingers moved between his cheeks, finding his opening, pushed in, moved about, in and out, eliciting little cries and husky groans, before they were removed.
Blair whimpered, but soon he was rewarded when Jim’s beautiful erection pushed its way inside.
He was slow, he was careful, but once he felt himself accepted in, he let go and began to move. He could monitor his partner easily.
Blair groaned in pleasure with the feeling of Jim’s cock inside him and his own erection rubbing against the table leg.
Jim’s hands were on his hips and on his back. The one on his hip slid around him to touch.
Blair felt his partner grunt out an unmistakable laugh.
“What!” he groaned out.
Blair smiled as Jim pounded at him, his hand rubbing along with the table leg and he felt his guide getting close. When he came he took Jim over with him.
They both got back their breath. Blair looked down at the table leg.
“Psychic huh?”
“What?” asked Jim carefully withdrawing from his guide.
“’What kind of a dog do you think I am?’” began Blair.
“‘One that would jump a table leg.’” quoted Jim.
“Next time, you get the table leg,” said Blair
Jim smiled and kissed him, “Well. I was hoping for, my bed with a pillow, but whatever floats your boat, Sandburg.”
AUTHOR: Fyrbyrd
CATEGORIES: PWP
RATING: NC-17
WARNINGS: m/m
SPOILERS: None
PAIRINGS: J/B
SUMMARY: Humping a table leg takes on a very true meaning.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, they own me. They Belong to Pet Fly.
Table Leg
by Fyrbyrd
Blair came out of the shower just as the phone rang, still rubbing a towel through his hair, another towel around his hips.
“I’ll get it,” he said moving to it and picking it up, “Hello.” He heard the ominous click of a hang-up then the tone. “Okay,” he said hanging up.
He began to move back to his room, but suddenly felt the towel about his hips loosen and fall. He bent down to pick it up.
A groan sounded behind him. He turned holding the towel to his groin, the other flipping down to join it.
Jim stood at the top of the stairs.
“Jim?” inquired Blair, “Are you all right?”
The Sentinel was wearing his grey robe and he began moving down the stairs his eyes never leaving his guide’s body.
Blair tried to maneuver the towel about his loins, but only succeeded in displaying his genitals to his Sentinel.
Another groan. This time Blair turned red with embarrassment and wondered at Jim’s sound effects.
“Hey, ah, sorry for the strip show,” he blurted out.
Jim came up to him, his nostrils flaring, “Why?” he asked his voice husky.
Blair looked up at his partner, saw the gleam, an almost feral gleam and realized he had been enjoying the glimpses of naked flesh he otherwise did not normally display.
Jim reached out and touched his face, something Blair was used to, but this time it was more. It was a caress, gentle, but Blair saw raw need in the other’s eyes.
The grey robe was opened and Blair’s eyes directed down. Now he was seeing more of Jim that he usually did, well, except for that time on the oil rig, only this time Jim’s body was showing an added reaction. He was fully aroused.
The hand lifted to his chin, lifting his face, asking a question without words. Blair leaned up, Jim leaned down. Mouths met. Tongues dueled. Towels spilled to the floor forgotten.
Jim began maneuvering them over to the table, too caught up in his need for words, he was practically eating his guide, his hands roaming over his skin, his hair. The mouth moved to his neck, biting gently. Blair gasped for breath and moaned when Jim found just the right spot. He knew there was no way to stop this, but that was not what he wanted to do. His own erection nudging Jim’s inner thigh.
Jim pulled back at the feeling, groaned again then dived for Blair’s left nipple as Blair was backed into a chair at the table. Blair ran his hands through Jim’s hair
“Oh man, Oh man,” chanted Blair as Jim attacked the other, licking, sucking biting, then pulled back again to go once more for his mouth.
Bending slightly at the knees, Jim pushed his hips forward grinding his cock against Blair’s.
Blair hummed in Jim’s mouth, his hands sliding down to Jim’s buttocks squeezing, pushing encouraging.
Again Jim pulled back, his eyes scanning the room for something with a predatory gleam. He spotted a small bottle of virgin olive oil, moving swiftly he grabbed it and returned to his guide. He opened the bottle quickly and slicked his fingers and took Blair’s mouth again.
Finally relinquishing the mouth he had been busily devouring, Jim turned his partner at the corner of the table and gently pushed him down. He tapped his upper thighs making him spread his legs, then fingers moved between his cheeks, finding his opening, pushed in, moved about, in and out, eliciting little cries and husky groans, before they were removed.
Blair whimpered, but soon he was rewarded when Jim’s beautiful erection pushed its way inside.
He was slow, he was careful, but once he felt himself accepted in, he let go and began to move. He could monitor his partner easily.
Blair groaned in pleasure with the feeling of Jim’s cock inside him and his own erection rubbing against the table leg.
Jim’s hands were on his hips and on his back. The one on his hip slid around him to touch.
Blair felt his partner grunt out an unmistakable laugh.
“What!” he groaned out.
Blair smiled as Jim pounded at him, his hand rubbing along with the table leg and he felt his guide getting close. When he came he took Jim over with him.
They both got back their breath. Blair looked down at the table leg.
“Psychic huh?”
“What?” asked Jim carefully withdrawing from his guide.
“’What kind of a dog do you think I am?’” began Blair.
“‘One that would jump a table leg.’” quoted Jim.
“Next time, you get the table leg,” said Blair
Jim smiled and kissed him, “Well. I was hoping for, my bed with a pillow, but whatever floats your boat, Sandburg.”