horseboykarl: (red sweater)
[personal profile] horseboykarl
We finally pull ourselves out of bed. I'm still feeling out there, hard to explain. But my skin is still tingling and I feel a little disconnected from myself. Your hands never leave me and you seem to understand how much I need you to keep touching me. As we're getting out of bed, I feel a small moment of fear, that I've let you in too much, and shame at my lack of control, but then you're there again, surrounding me. You wrap an arm around me as we stand up and I'm glad you know what I need, because never imagined I'd feel this off-balance.

I bury my face in your neck, mumbling, "I love you."

I get your bright grin in return with a tad bit of smugness and triumph. You've earned it though and I know it's not at my expense, that this wasn't a contest between us, it was a new way of loving each other. And the feelings dissolve into peace and contentment like I've never felt before, and I know that despite my worries, that giving myself to you was the right thing to do. My reward is that I feel better about myself and my life than I ever have.

We finally make it downstairs, and the floaty feeling hasn't left me yet, nor has the deep satisfaction I feel. I hope it takes a while to wear off. The truck with the supplies pulls up and you get out the plans we drew up. I've never collaborated with anyone for a project like this, both of us shooting ideas around until the plans gelled into something we both loved. It was a sort of a high, minds meeting instead of bodies, and it made me want more of the same.

As we're walking down the drive to meet the lorry, I say impulsively, "I'd like to do a film with you."

Right, Urban, off topic. You look at me and I know I haven't quite recovered from the intensity between us when you cuffed me. You've stripped away some barrier and it hasn't come back yet.

"I mean . . . I love you for your brains too. And you're a marvelous actor and . . . you push me creatively."

Sean: Emotion, warm and huge tumbles through me at your words, and slipping a hand behind your neck, I pull you close for a slow kiss. My mouth moves against yours, tongue mapping, tasting, before I draw back. Licking my lips, I look into your eyes that are clear and bright, lit from within by your brilliant spirit. What we shared today, the pure and honest intensity of it is still working in you, I can tell, and I know it’s bloody well still in me, too.

“Thank you, mura. Would be brilliant, that.” Christ, it’s been ages since I’ve worked at all. Since finding you, my life just seems so full, and the urge to work hasn’t driven me, like in the past. “We’ll have to talk to the agents, yeah? See what’s floating about. Would love sharing that part of meself with you, love.”

Releasing your neck, I let my hand slide down over your shoulder and arm, keeping contact right down to your fingers. Gripping them, I tug you along to the lorry, giving you a smile. “Better get to work, I suppose.” We’d better, or I might just drag you back into bed.

It’s late into the morning by the time we get the timber sorted and off loaded. Our project is going to be tucked away, deep among the trees of our property, off one of the paths that winds about our place among the parts I’ve gardened, and those that are still a bit wild. I make a point of having the lumber stacked up on the path, and I hope you won’t mind lugging it the short distance down to the site, but I find myself feeling possessive, not wanting anyone knowing were our little hideaway is going to be.

Karl: We'd prepared the site a few days ago, shifting dirt around and building up some places, getting it level, slightly set in to the hill. Then we poured the foundation, not much, just enough to keep the worst of the bugs and the damp out. The spot you picked it bloody gorgeous with the trees hanging over it. My body tightens thinking about how we'll use it when we finish. Another private hideaway for us, more so than our house. We worked so well together, we complement each other with our skills and abilities.

It takes us nearly an hour to get the wood sorted where we want it, each piece laid out in roughly the right spot. The work passes in almost silence, as we talk only about what we need to do. But it's comfortable. I can't remember ever doing a project like this were the energy flows so freely between two people. I get that warm feeling in my chest again and I know it's all a part of loving you.

Sean: We begin the real work of erecting the support posts, and once that’s managed, we move on from there, gradually getting the frame in place, nailing it all together. The sun has climbed almost directly overhead by the time the supports for the walls and roof are managed, and we push on, getting the boards laid up top. It’s well after lunch by the time we pause to take stock of our progress.

Pulling the hem of my shirt up, I mop the sweat from my face, dragging fingers through my hair that’s damp as well. We’ve managed bloody well, so far, and even though the structure itself is pretty basic and simple, I’m proud of our work. My eyes are drawn to you, watching as you pound home another nail. Your forearms flex as you handle the hammer, and I lick my lips, gaze traveling over your jumper that’s dark with the moisture of hard work under your arms, down your chest and back. Your hair is wilder than usual, pushed back behind your ears and your face is flushed from exertion and the sun, and my body's feeling you in all the right ways, even though I'm well out of arm's length.

Cargo shorts cling to your lean hips, and I take a deep breath, drinking in the sight of you, savoring this feeling of being right were I want to be, of creating something new with you. My chest goes tight, because I can see us doing things like this, years down the road. Christ, I’m mad in love.

Turning, you catch me looking, and I grin, my belly announcing with a yowl that it’s well past lunch. Dropping my own hammer, I move close, slipping my arms about your waist. “Want to take a break, love? Grab a bite . . . or I can go up to the house, bring us something back?”

Karl: Stopping to drag an arm across my sweaty forehead, I consider. Fuck, time passed without me realising it, and I hadn't known I was hungry. This place will be a nest of sorts for us, a love nest. Our bedroom is partially for sleeping, but this place is just for the two of us, for loving each other in all the ways that we can. I'm eager to have it done, although I didn't know I wanted it until you came up with the idea. "Out here, I think."

I lean into your arms, glad for the contact. The feelings from this morning are gradually fading and I'm glad you chose to put the cuffs on me first, because you obviously know what you're doing to give me what I need after the intensity of our joining. I don't know if I would have had enough sense to do the same for you without experiencing it myself. But now I know, and I'm confident that I'll be able to take care of you afterwards. There's a small sense of jealousy that you shared this with someone else, but I know you lived heaps of years before we met and I can't hold it against you.

You give me another kiss and then I watch your ass disappear down the path towards the house. I grin to myself thinking of the things I'll do to you once I'm back inside your sweet warmth.

Sean: Once back in the house, I slap together a few sandwiches, using up the last of our cold cuts and Monterey Jack cheese. There’s a bag of crisps in the cupboard, and I grab that too, along with the last bit of pasta salad, left over from yesterday’s dinner, and as I sort it all I make a mental note to add cheese and cold cuts to our list for the market. Snagging an empty market bag from the cupboard, I load it up with the food, adding a couple cold beers from the frig.

Satisfied that what I’ve managed will hold us for a bit, I make for the door, stopping monetarily to pocket a tube of lube, and feeling vaguely silly, but, with us you never know when it might come in handy. I’m eager to get back to you, get you fed and complete our project, and there’s a simmering heat that’s been in me the entire time we’ve labored. It’s living alongside the feelings you’ve long since put inside me, love and need, trust, lust, and I’m certain it’s a direct result from what we shared this morning.

I'll remember you, the way you gave of yourself, for the rest of my days, and I can’t bloody wait to be yours, just like that. As much as I want it, the waiting is going to make it so much more bloody brilliant when you finally take me, own me, that way. Emerging through the trees, I give you a smile. You’re waiting for me by our nearly completed hideaway. Handing you the bag, I lean down and kiss your hair, just because it pleases me to, and then take a seat beside you, snaring a sandwich and a beer.

Karl: I sprawl across a bank of grass that leads away from our . . . huh. What the fuck do we call this? Our hut in the woods. I snicker remembering watching one of your movies together. That one got me hot. Our love shack. That's better. It'll be the love nest that's inside it.

Scrambling up as I see you come back, I help you get the food organised and we slouch on the ground. We eat lazily, talking and taking our time. This project is for us and there's no hurry, although the idea of what we can do out here is getting me interested. Especially since there seems to be a new closeness between us after this morning. I've always resisted a total surrender not liking the idea of giving anyone power over me and I'm physically strong enough that not many people can get the better of me. But you didn't have to overwhelm me like that, just your love was enough. I see now the rewards that are possible when I'm fully open with my lover, a lesson that you've made clear to me.

We finish and I roll to my side, twining our fingers, not really wanting to start anything, but just needing the contact again. We have a lot of work to do before the sun goes down.

Sean: I curl my fingers about yours, smiling slightly, aware that we’re touching one another today, more than usual. This morning you gave me a whole new awareness of things we can share, not just physically but on an almost . . . spiritual level. I find myself hard pressed to put it into words, the way I’m feeling, so bloody grateful. Right, Bean, maybe just saying thank you would be a nice start.

It’s a quiet time of day, the afternoon settling in, and that same quiet peace settles in me too, and it’s all due to you, loving you this morning, creating our hideaway, just being with you. “Thank you, love,” I finally say. You look up at me, a question in your eyes.

“For this morning, I mean. Were so bloody intense, so good, and I-fuck, was never like that before.” My words tripping over one another, I’m arseing this up, and there’s heat in my cheeks suddenly. I can imagine you being curious about my past play with being bound, why I did it, who I did it with, but I figure you’ll ask if you really want to know, and I don’t want to put something out there that might disturb this brilliant day. Mostly, I just want you to know what a bloody gorgeous thing you’ve done, this gift you’ve given that I wasn’t looking for, that I didn’t know I needed until you offered it.

Ah, fuck it. “Just wanted to say thank you,” lifting your hand I kiss your fingertips, one by one, “bloody marvelous birthday gift, and I’ll never forget it, love.” Squeezing your fingers, I smile, thinking that we’ve got just enough daylight to finish our private little getaway. With luck, maybe even as soon as tonight we can start breaking it in, proper.

Karl: I'm more than pleased that you liked what I gave you, what we did. I smile at you happily as your mouth moves over my hand. But I resist the tempting sight of your sweet mouth, though you're making me fucking hard again. We need to finish this.

We work together to clear away the lunch things and then pick up hammers again. We're ready to fit the French doors in the frames. We decided we liked being able to open it up completely if the weather is fine, but shut ourselves cozily away if it isn't. We thought that the doors would be the best way of having both. The weather is moving towards cool and we'll put a small stove inside, warm the place quickly.

It takes a bit of wrestling but we get the first door seated, but we level it and get it nailed in. We're getting good at this by the time the last door goes in. I lean over, resting my hands on my knees, feeling fucking exhausted. Those doors are bloody heavy. I'm ready to curl up someplace with you.

Sean: Sweating and nearly out of breath, I can’t help but stare at your fine arse as you take a rest. Running a hand up your spine, I take in a deep breath and let it out, feeling today’s efforts in my arms and back the most. Massaging your shoulders, knowing how hard those particular muscles worked, I smile at your contented noise.

Your shirt is dark with sweat, feels damp to my fingers, and the hair at the nape of your neck is wet with it. I keep my hand moving on you as you stand, thinking that on you, the scent of a hard day’s work smells fucking brilliant . . . or maybe it’s just your familiar scent that’s amplified by the sweat. Either way, I move closer to you, hoping you won’t mind me, as honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m smelling pretty ripe. My gaze moves over our hideout, and I’m taken with a sense of satisfaction, and anticipation.

“Looks bloody brilliant, I’d say.” I suddenly realize that we’ve not talked about painting the trim on all those French doors, but figure that can wait. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, late afternoon light filtering orange-gold down through the trees, but there’s the scent of rain on the cool breeze that suddenly strengthens, making the trees sway gently, their green leaves rustling.

“Let’s move in the bed and bits, and call it done today, yeah?” We’ve only the low-slung studio bed, which is really just a brilliantly comfortable mattress on a basic low platform, made even more inviting by smooth white sheets and plush pillows. After that there’s a few low tables and a smattering of other odds and ends, but it shouldn’t take us long at all to manage it.

Karl: I nod tiredly and grab one end of the bed. We work quickly to get the other few things inside and I toss a last pillow on the bed. I want to flop on the bed and roll around with you in it for a while, but we're both dirty, stinky and sweaty. Not that I mind that, but the bed's brand fucking new. I think that maybe we should've installed one of those outdoor showers round back. Actually . . . I wander to the back of the nest and there's a bank with rock and ferns tumbling down it. I grin, plotting. Would be easy enough to run pipe and a shower head. I bloody well like the idea of washing your back out here in the fresh air.

Your arms wrap around me and you press a kiss to my shoulder. At your question, I answer, "Was thinking this would be a nice spot for a shower. I like the idea of it in the open."

Right. You've turned me into a bloody exhibitionist, but I like it. I lean into your arms, ready to take you to bed and not much caring if we're not exactly fresh. "Want you."

Sean: You take me apart, with just a few words. You turn in my arms and I slip them about you once more, pulling you close, hands sliding up your lean back. “Yes,” I breathe, and we come together, tasting each other. The breeze rises around us suddenly, whipping the trees about and the rain begins with just a few drops, dropping coolly against my cheek. Your fingers slide into my hair and you bloody well know what that does to me. I moan against your mouth, opening to you, sucking your tongue inside me as the rain becomes a curtain dropping over us, soaking us to the skin.

I can’t care, not about getting wet or anything else, not when you’re holding me, kissing me with deep possessive strokes. I give it right back to you, my hands hitching up your shirt, and we part just long enough to catch our breath. Your hair is matted against your skull and I grin, dragging fingers through it, pushing it back from your face as I dive for your neck, kissing and sucking, tasting you and the rain as I mould my body to yours. You taste so fucking brilliant.

“Want you,” I say against your skin, over the wind and the rain. Drawing back, I look into your eyes, blinking raindrops from my own. “Need you so bloody much, love.”

Karl: The rain is drenching us, and it should be cold, a fall rain, but with you like a fire in my arms, I can't be cold. Your heat surrounds me as your arms do and I want more of it. I saw what you brought back from the house with you and I'm urgent, needing to be inside you so desperately, and I can still feel you inside me from this morning, a pleasant ache that's been with me all day reminding me of your thorough fucking of my hole. I drag you after me, finding the supplies just on the threshold of one of the doors. I attack your mouth again, too needy to be gentle, biting and nipping, my tongue thrusting hard inside your heat, even as my hands are scrabbling with your clothes impatiently.

Your pants are kicked away and I pull back long enough to tear my shirt off, looking at you, your eyes gone so wide, the green so deep. I drop my shorts, not caring wear they land as I step out of them, not bothering to take off my boots. You aren't protesting my rough treatment and that's bloody good because I can't hold back. I turn you around, pressing you against one of the walls we just built and reach for lube.

Two slick fingers stab into you and I feel you gasping for breath. I force myself to slow down, not wanting to hurt you, so I wait, working your ass until your breath steadies. When you relax around my fingers, I pull them out, slicking my cock and shoving your legs wider apart. I thrust into you hard, moulding myself over your back when I'm in as deep as I can go.

"So fucking beautiful, tahu. So tight."

Sean: Oh, fuck. I feel the wild in you, it’s ready to break loose and I want it, so fucking badly. Want you to pour it inside, fill me up with it. Pinned against the wall, I’m bloody well trembling, aching for you, and no one else can strip me down to such need so fucking fast. Your cock is in so brilliantly deep, can almost feel it in the back of me throat, and your words are like brands, marking inside me as your own.

You’re giving me a moment, letting me stretch about you, and I need it, because you’re going to love me so bloody hard. I can’t stay still though, and I try to move, rock myself down harder on you. Your balls are snug against me arse, and I moan, pressing back, winding my hand back behind your neck, making my entire body open to you, for anything you want.

The wind sends the rain pattering against the French doors, it penetrates a small distance inside our nest through the one left we've open, but I can’t feel it, not when I’m on fire, not when me legs are spread wide and the pressure of you inside is driving me mad. Your arms are tight about me, keeping me safe, and I can be as needful and shameless as I want. I can beg and curse and demand, and you’ll hold me through it. You’ll drive me insane, and fuck me until I’m spent.

“Tight for you, love, only for you,” I manage, voice rough, shaking. I arch against you, naked body plastered against your front, skin slick with rainwater and new sweat. “Give it to me, mura . . . I . . . wanna scream for you, love.”

Karl: Getting a better grip on your hips, I start pounding you, working hard, slamming into you. I'll make you scream, I'll make us both scream into the the rain that is lashing us and the wind. It's just more sensation battering me. You clench down on my and fuck if I can hold out. I'm pounding you so hard that your body is jerking off your feet with every thrust. You're gonna need some soothing when I'm done, but I can't stop myself, can't hold back from you, knowing that you can take anything I give you.

Wrapping one hand around your neck, holding you where I want you, I grab your hard cock with the other, my hand tight on you, showing you no mercy. And not much gentleness, but I'm not in control anymore, my instincts are driving me as I strip your cock roughly.

"Come with me, tahu," I howl over the rising wind.

Sean: Possession is what this is. Primal hunger, mixed together with love and trust.

I revel in it, in the possessive hand on my neck, in your merciless, unstoppable fucking. You’re nailing me to the wall, having me, literally fucking me off me own feet. You’re a wild thing, undone, showing me where I belong . . . right here, caged in your arms.

I’m mad with it, the hard pleasure raking through me, each ram of your cock stabbing to my core. Both captured and set free by you, I am, and your hands tighten, on my neck and cock and I thrash wildly, curses having melted into moans, and now into desperate cries, pleas. Nothing is off limits, and I call your name, crazy with it, bucking, offering you my need as you force the pleasure out of me, pulling me off.

Lightening flashes, thunder rolls overhead, shaking the glass doors in their frames, but you’re the only storm I know. You’ve taken me over and I surrender, screaming your name hoarsely as it breaks open in me, the heat, the razor-edged pleasure. My cock jerks in your unyielding grip, shoots cream over your fingers, painting me belly and maybe even the wall as I shake apart in your arms. My hand scrabbles against the wall, my other arm winding tighter about your neck as you shove in again, as my inner muscles clamp down, working you.

My vision fades out as the wave slams through me. I go rigid, body rippling about your prick. Moaning, in the midst of release, I want to feel you go off in me. I want your come, filling me up, painting me inside.

Karl: Your body tightens around me and although I want to keep fucking you forever, to never leave the warm place inside you, feeling you orgasm around me shreds the last of my control. Throwing my head back, eyes squeezed tight against the rain and the power of the explosion inside me, I shriek your name, my hips driving into you furiously, trying to get inside you as far as possible. My cock throbs, jerking as I empty myself into your tight heat.

The shudders wrack me for long minutes as my hands dig into your hips, holding you on me while I pump myself into you. When it finally passes, my muscles unclenching, I rest my head against your back, my breath ragged. I haven't let go of you, curling my body around yours, my arms around you, pulling you tight against me. I want to stay like this, but now that our passion has passed, the rain becomes cold and I pull out reluctantly. You turn in my arms and rest your head against my chest. But we move, walking inside our nest, getting out of the rain.

Sean: I’m still trying to catch my breath as you wipe me gently with one of the extra sheets, drying my skin. My heart doesn’t seem to want to slow down, and I drop heavily back on the bed. You pull away, just to toe off your boots, but it’s too long. I reach for you, feeling better only after you’ve climbed into bed. I spread my legs, and you slide in between, your weight on me a comfort, your hands stroking gently over my skin, fingers slowly carding through my hair.

In spite of your care, I still can’t catch me breath, because my body is reliving your glory . . . can still feel you, moving in me, so bloody hard. Can still feel your breath, hot on my neck as you took me, fingers clamped down on my hips, my neck, grip tightening each time you rammed inside . . . your leather boots hard against the insides of my bare ankles as you forced me open for you.

Fucking Christ.

Moaning, I move restlessly under you, unable to string two words together to tell you that I’m still feeling bloody well out of control. You shift your weight, and my tender spent cock glides along your naked thigh. My mouth falls open on another moan, and I cling to your shoulders, staring up at you with wide eyes, because the intensity of what I’m feeling seems unending. But you’re here, keeping me safe, and I just let go, thrusting shamelessly against your thigh.

Your fire is everywhere, inside and out. It's rooted in deep where you shot your seed and it's burning under my skin, it's warming my cheeks at my utter loss of control. I can’t stop moving on you, even though my hypersensitive prick is spent, is aching every time I ride against you. I can’t stop and it goes on, endless moments of pure abandon, and you’re tending me, giving me everything I want, feeding my need and my body can't hold this pace. Need release, and there’s no fucking way I can come again, balls have emptied, but me cock is trying to do a damned fine impression of it anyway, twitching a few times against your thigh. Moaning as pleasure throbs inside, I arch off the sheets, staring into you with shock as the aching satisfaction surges through me, as you hold me through it, claiming me, again.

Karl: Fucking hell, I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot, your wanton squirming against me, the convulsions of your body letting me know you've somehow come again. Fucking gorgeous, and fucking mine. The rush of possessiveness I feel is nothing new and I hold you close, my hands gentle in your hair as I murmur, "Fuck, Sean. Crap. That was . . . unbelievably hot."

I'm exhausted from practically fucking you off your feet or I think I'd be up again too. As it is, I wrap myself around you, wanting to get as close as possible to you, wanting to sink myself into you and never come out. My dick stirs a little at the idea and I suspect I'll be ready to go sooner than I thought. Right now, the rain is still lashing the sides of our shelter and a chill breeze is blowing in through the open doors, but we've made a comfortable nest in here, blankets and our own warmth. I run my hands over you, making sure that you aren't cold, knowing how vulnerable your body must be after that. I rest my weight on you, confident that I'm not too much for you, but instead I'm grounding you, settling you after you gave yourself to me. I wonder how much more you'd give if I had you tied down and my cock twitches again.

Bloody hell, you make me horny. I grin against your hair as you snuggle into my neck. If my body weren't so exhausted, I'd drag you back to the house and experiment. But this morning taught me that there's more to it than just locking someone up and I want to be fully rested so I can give you the care and attention you deserve when we do that. I settle deeply into the blankets, lassitude spreading through me.

Sean: Your warm weight pushing me down into the plush mattress, I can finally catch my breath. You’re wrapping me up in your arms and in comfort, and I sigh against your neck. Words haven’t returned to me, just yet, I’m sunk too deeply into satiation, relaxation, brilliant exhaustion, can barely keep me eyes open. It occurs that I don’t have to, and I let them slide closed, but am not yet ready to sleep.

Nuzzling you, pressing sleepy kisses against your neck, I’m aware of the blanket being drawn up, covering us. A shift of your weight, momentary, and you’re back in place, holding me, grounding me. I smile, thinking that you’re blanket enough for me, the best kind, made of warm skin and lean muscle, a heartbeat pressed next to mine. I curl my arms about you, wanting to keep you close. You stroke my hair, and in a sudden moment of clarity, I think that I’ve been looking for this warm, safe place of love and comfort, all my life.

The rain pounds down, a loud but not unwelcome strum against the roof, pattering against the glass of the French doors. The thunder sounds again, but sounds farther off, now, and I’m ready to rest with you, content to wait until our bodies recover and we’re ready to go again. It seems we keep finding new ways to have one another, keep finding ways to get even closer. You’ve brought such pleasure to me, of the body and the spirit, there’re no words for it. I know, I can give you anything, and I want to, more than anything.

Finally, the words come in a rough, low whisper, “Love you, mura.” With this last release, I let go, slipping easily into sleep, held safe in your arms.



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February 2011

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