|Mary Sue Fiction|
Trenton drifted up from sleep, lured by the faint grey light that was seeping through the French doors. The first thing he was aware of besides the light was the weight. There was a heavy, muscular male body lying face down over his own torso. It rested at a slant, so that his bed partner's groin was lying against his left hip. One leg had been crooked so that the left knee was over his own left leg, as if the older man was trying to crawl over him. A slightly shaggy dark blonde head rested on his shoulder, and Trenton could feel a slow, moist breath warming his skin. He sighed contentedly. He just loved waking up to a Clive-blanket.
*And I just love waking up my Clive-blanket.* He shifted slightly, sliding his left hand down his side. At the movement, Clive growled softly. Trenton stopped for a moment, craning his head for a look at his lover's face. No, Clive was still asleep. As a rule, it wasn't wise to disturb the Dom when he was sleeping, but Trenton was sure that Clive would like what he had in mind.
He let his hand slip farther down, till he felt the back of his hand brush against a crinkly puff of pubic hair, then a warm, solid mass. Trenton grinned. *All right, only half-hard! There's a good chance it isn't just tinkle-time stiffness. Time to play.*
Trenton carefully turned his wrist till his hand cupped Clive's incipient erection. At first he just held it against his palm, letting the heat of his hand transfer to his lover's flesh. After a moment he began a soft, rhythmic squeezing. He was gratified to feel Clive's prick begin to firm and thicken. He switched to light, gentle stroking, running his fingertips the length of Clive's shaft, over and over.
Clive's cock grew and hardened. Trenton had to stretch and shift, but he managed to touch the cockhead. It was slippery with pre-come, and Trenton began to slide his fingers around and around, teasing the slit.
Clive groaned deep in his throat and thrust lazily. He slid through Trenton's circling fingers, and his glans painted a warm, wet trail along the boy's hip. The Dom lifted his head and looked down at Trenton sleepily. "Good God, darling. Don't tell me you're feeling frisky after that shagging I gave you last night?"
Trenton gave Clive's cock a squeeze. "Feels like I'm not the only one feeling frisky."
"That isn't frisky, pet--it's horny. We'll have sex, but this isn't going to be frisky by any means." Trenton shivered as he felt Clive's firm, smooth hand engulf his soft dick. "Mm, got me started without having yourself ready, too? Naughty boy. Does that deserve a spanking?" Trenton kissed Clive humbly. "All right. But you don't come till I give you permission, or I will be very displeased."
Clive continued to rub himself against Trenton's smooth hip while he masturbated the boy, bringing him quickly to full erection. There were whispered words of affection and lust between the two, the comfortable exchange of lovers who are very familiar with each other, but have not reached the point of satiation, and are not likely to.
When he was finally satisfied that Trent was aroused enough, Clive climbed the rest of the way on top of him. Trenton spread his legs, making a space for Clive, and the older man settled between his thighs, aligning their hard cocks. Then he began to rock against Trenton with a slow, easy movement.
Trenton sighed voluptuously as Clive undulated over and against him. Clive had braced his arms on either side, lifting some of his weight off the boy, and Trenton reached up to run his hands lovingly over his Dom's smooth, sculpted chest. Clive might be moving into the tail end of his thirties, but he kept his body hard with regular workouts. Trenton settled his fingers over Clive's copper colored nipples and began to stroke and rub, at first gently.
Clive grunted his approval. As the flesh firmed into stiff peaks, Trenton became rougher, pinching. Clive ordered, "More!" Trenton used his nails, scraping and pulling. Clive's eyes sparked with pain and lust. His hips moved faster and harder, and he bent his head to begin nipping sharply at Trenton's shoulder. Trenton threw his head back, arching his neck in invitation. He loved it when Clive marked him, sucking and biting passion bruises on the tender skin of his throat.
As Clive began to suckle a patch on the side of his throat, Trenton could feel the sperm beginning to boil up in his testes. "Clive!" he panted. "Please! I'm close."
Clive lifted his head and stared down at the boy, his brown eyes almost black with his lust-dilated pupils. His voice was hoarse and commanding. "Remember what I told you, boy! Not till I say so."
Trenton was thrusting up to meet him. "Please, master! I can't hold it much longer."
"Yes, you can, Trenton. Do what I taught you." Clive paused in his movements. With a whimper, Trenton reached between their bodies and circled the base of his cock snuggly with his thumb and forefinger. He tightened his grip till it ached, pinching the seminal tubes closed in much the same way a cock ring would. Clive watched him closely. A seasoned Dom, he could tell as the boy's expression relaxed minutely that he was backing off from the edge of orgasm. "Are you all right now, pet?"
Trenton nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you."
"What a good little subbie." He resumed moving, this time humping strongly, thrusting against Trenton's stiff cock and smooth belly with an increasingly ragged rhythm. Trenton was panting and shuddering, his eyes wild as he once again began to approach climax. "Hold on, Trenton. Just a little more." Clive lay flat on top of his young lover, gripping his hips firmly, and came. He closed his eyes in ecstasy as his balls clenched, and he spurted a hot, sticky pool between their bodies.
Trenton was mewling frantically, teeth clenched, hands fisted in the sheets as he struggled not to come. Clive looked down into his wild eyes. He kissed him gently, murmuring against his lips, "Come."
When Trent wailed, Clive thrust his tongue into the boy's mouth, swallowing the sound as he felt the burst of hot liquid that joined his own spunk. Trenton tried to jerk his hips, but Clive held him firmly, and he could only tremble as the heat and pleasure washed over him.
At last they both lay quiet. Clive released Trenton's mouth with a final lick. "Good boy. You did that perfectly."
Trenton smiled proudly. "I've been practicing."
Clive sighed. "Ah, youth. Energy to spare. Well, let's peel apart and go shower."
Trenton looped his arms around Clive's neck and purred, "Half hour more?"
"I know it's your job to tempt me, lover, but not this morning." He rolled off Trenton and sat up, patting Trenton's sticky hip. "If you're planning on keeping your schedule of workouts and attending Bettina's party this afternoon, shouldn't you go in for an early swim?"
Trenton was suddenly wide awake. "Oh, yeah! I forgot about that." He got up. While Clive went into the bathroom, Trenton did his morning chore of stripping the soiled sheets and replacing them with fresh ones. When he brought the linen into the bathroom Clive was in the shower. Trenton stuffed the sheets into the hamper, then opened the shower and stepped under the spray.
Clive smiled at him, shifting aside so the water would hit Trenton. The boy turned, getting himself thoroughly soaked as Clive lathered a wash cloth, then began to clean him. Trenton stood docilely, basking in the warm water and gentle attention. The bathing was sensual without being sexual. Sex was over for the morning--it was time to prepare for the day.
Trenton knelt on the tiles so Clive could comfortably shampoo his hair. While the conditioner worked they quietly discussed their plans for the day. For Trenton there was a swim workout, two classes, and then he'd pick up lunch and bring it to Attitudes. After that he'd observe Clive or the other operators work. He wasn't going to start his cosmetology classes till his third year of study, but by then he'd have a firm grasp of most procedures through apprenticeship. Clive had a shipment of supplies coming in. He'd had troubles with this shipper before--several times stock he'd been counting on had been irreparably damaged, and the proper attitude of remorse had been lacking. Clive had promised himself the luxury of kicking someone's ass if this shipment wasn't satisfactory.
In the kitchen, Trenton set the table while Clive started breakfast. That was the usual distribution of duties. Trenton didn't cook in the mornings because Clive liked him to remain naked till he had to leave, and he wasn't going to let the boy around the stove in that state. While Clive was dividing the scrambled eggs onto two plates Trenton poured a cup of coffee and set it at Clive's place. He picked up another mug and Clive said, without turning around, "Trent, do you intend to have soda at Bettina's party?"
Trenton paused, knowing exactly why Clive had asked that question. He sighed and put down the mug, then poured himself a glass of milk. He'd been restless in his sleep lately, and Clive had ordered him to cut back on his caffeine. Trenton wasn't one hundred percent happy about it, but it was working. Clive knew best--always.
While Trenton got dressed Clive put on a load of laundry, including the clothes Trent had worn last night. He would pick them up the next time he slept over. On the drive to the university, Trenton was allowed to choose the radio station. Luckily, through his association with Scribe, Clive had developed a taste for pop songs, so both men were happy.
Clive pulled up next to the gymnasium, and Trenton slid over for a final kiss before getting out. When they drew apart, Clive inclined his head slightly and said, "Trent, darling, who's the angel in white?"
Trenton glanced back toward the building. "That's Bryant McAllister. He's on the swim team with me."
Clive gave the young man a leisurely once over. He was about twenty, and it was hard to say how tall he was since he was sitting on the steps, elbows on his bent knees, hands dangling in the space between his thighs. *Body looks good, though--long and lean, like Trent.* Even if his build hadn't marked him as an athlete, the gym bag near his feet did. *But that hair... *It was white blond, and given that Bryant didn't have the colorless skin and washed out eyes of an albino, the color was patently false. Oh, it was striking, especially since his hair fell several inches down his back in a thick ponytail. Clive's fingers itched.
The young man was, as Clive had observed, all in white--soft tee-shirt under sharply pressed shirt, cream jeans, and pristine sneakers. Clive imagined a pair of scarlet briefs under all that snowiness, and found it very pleasing. "Mister McAllister seems to be interested in us."
"He does a lot of people watching. Doesn't interact much, though. I get the impression that he wants to, but something is holding him back. He seems like a good guy. Maybe I'll try to make friends."
Trenton climbed out and started toward the building. Bryant watched him approach. His expression was neutral, but he leaned forward slightly, a sense of hopefulness exuding from his posture. Trent stopped on the steps below him, and they exchanged words. Bryant stood up, picking up his bag, and the two young men entered the gym together.
Clive put on a pair of sunglasses and pulled out, murmuring, "Yes, pet, make friends. You just do that little thing."