stephanometra (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stephanometra) wrote2009-01-26 09:16 pm
stephanometra) wrote2009-01-26 09:16 pm
Entry tags:
untitled girl!jon/brendon ficlet, nc17
So I've got some commentfic to throw around. Sry fr th spm, I'll just do one tonight.
V. light bondage, I guess.
***
"Jon," Brendon gasps, rattling the handcuffs against the headboard. "Jon, please."
She hides her smile against his hip and then gives the head of his cock another thoughtful, kittenish lick. "No," she says, looking up at Brendon’s face through her lashes, letting him see precisely how much she's enjoying this.
"Come on, I'll do anything," he wheedles. "I'll—fuck, I'll do anything you want, just please let me out."
Jon rolls her eyes. "You know, the way you're carrying on, it's almost like you don't actually want a blowjob."
Brendon shakes his head vigorously. "No, no, I want a blowjob. Yes please to blowjobs."
"Then shut up and be still," she admonishes, and then goes back to swirling her tongue around the head of his cock.
"God, I fucking hate you," he groans, but he stops moving. Mostly. Well, as much as Brendon is capable of not moving, anyway, which is still a definite improvement over his usual behavior while Jon is going down on him.
It's not that she minds him tangling his fingers in her hair and fucking her mouth, really. Most of the time, she's totally into that. But sometimes she wants to savor the experience a little, enjoy the weight of him on her tongue, the way his thighs tremble under her hands when she curls her tongue just right. She really doesn't think that's so much to ask, and while she knows that in theory Brendon agrees with her, in practice he's pretty fucking rude. Usually she just has him make it up to her with his mouth, but sometimes she finds it necessary to resort to drastic measures.
"Better," Jon murmurs, and rewards him by sucking the head of his cock into her mouth, working her tongue as she slides her mouth slowly down. She hears the cuffs rattle as he wraps his fingers around the chains, but his hips stay anchored to the bed. She pulls off just long enough to say, "Much better," and then puts her mouth on him again.
She goes slowly, taking him deep, trailing her fingers over the ridges of his hipbones, the lean muscles of his thighs. He moans softly and spreads his legs when she touches his balls, whimpering, "Sorry, sorry," as he does it, but she doesn't mind that movement; it makes it easier for her to press her dry fingertips against the thin, sensitive skin behind his balls, following with her lips when he cries out but manages to keep still.
"Do you want...?" she asks softly, sliding her fingers back to circle around his hole.
Brendon is almost shaking with the effort of keeping still. "Fuck, please," he says, biting his lip as he watches her suck two of her fingers into her mouth, getting them sloppy and wet.
She takes his cock into her mouth again as she gently pushes her fingers into him, forgives him the way his hips roll as he bears down on her hand. It won't be long; he never lasts when she's fingering him, like the sensation's just too much, too good for him to bear it.
Jon likes it; likes the way it makes her feel powerful. He doesn't fall apart like this for anyone else; nobody gets to see this but her.
He gets vocal when he gets close, choking out little broken noises in time with the minute flex of his hips, and she pulls off just before he finally starts to come, curling her free hand tightly around his dick while she strokes over his prostate, and watches as he throws back his head and spurts all over his stomach, clenching around her fingers.
"God, Jon," he breathes out when he's finished, when the muscles in his stomach have stopped jumping.
"Shhh," she says, and bends her head to his chest, cleaning him up with broad swipes of her tongue, grinning when she sees his spent cock twitch again at the sight of her licking up his come.
She kisses him when she's done, groaning at the eager way he chases his own taste on her tongue, and it takes her three tries to grope around for the key to the handcuffs and unlock them, because she doesn't want to stop kissing him.
Brendon rubs his wrists when she lets his arms down, and then plucks the cuffs from her hands. "My turn now?" he asks, jangling the cuffs, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously up at her.
Jon laughs and offers him her wrists. "Your turn," she agrees.
V. light bondage, I guess.
"Jon," Brendon gasps, rattling the handcuffs against the headboard. "Jon, please."
She hides her smile against his hip and then gives the head of his cock another thoughtful, kittenish lick. "No," she says, looking up at Brendon’s face through her lashes, letting him see precisely how much she's enjoying this.
"Come on, I'll do anything," he wheedles. "I'll—fuck, I'll do anything you want, just please let me out."
Jon rolls her eyes. "You know, the way you're carrying on, it's almost like you don't actually want a blowjob."
Brendon shakes his head vigorously. "No, no, I want a blowjob. Yes please to blowjobs."
"Then shut up and be still," she admonishes, and then goes back to swirling her tongue around the head of his cock.
"God, I fucking hate you," he groans, but he stops moving. Mostly. Well, as much as Brendon is capable of not moving, anyway, which is still a definite improvement over his usual behavior while Jon is going down on him.
It's not that she minds him tangling his fingers in her hair and fucking her mouth, really. Most of the time, she's totally into that. But sometimes she wants to savor the experience a little, enjoy the weight of him on her tongue, the way his thighs tremble under her hands when she curls her tongue just right. She really doesn't think that's so much to ask, and while she knows that in theory Brendon agrees with her, in practice he's pretty fucking rude. Usually she just has him make it up to her with his mouth, but sometimes she finds it necessary to resort to drastic measures.
"Better," Jon murmurs, and rewards him by sucking the head of his cock into her mouth, working her tongue as she slides her mouth slowly down. She hears the cuffs rattle as he wraps his fingers around the chains, but his hips stay anchored to the bed. She pulls off just long enough to say, "Much better," and then puts her mouth on him again.
She goes slowly, taking him deep, trailing her fingers over the ridges of his hipbones, the lean muscles of his thighs. He moans softly and spreads his legs when she touches his balls, whimpering, "Sorry, sorry," as he does it, but she doesn't mind that movement; it makes it easier for her to press her dry fingertips against the thin, sensitive skin behind his balls, following with her lips when he cries out but manages to keep still.
"Do you want...?" she asks softly, sliding her fingers back to circle around his hole.
Brendon is almost shaking with the effort of keeping still. "Fuck, please," he says, biting his lip as he watches her suck two of her fingers into her mouth, getting them sloppy and wet.
She takes his cock into her mouth again as she gently pushes her fingers into him, forgives him the way his hips roll as he bears down on her hand. It won't be long; he never lasts when she's fingering him, like the sensation's just too much, too good for him to bear it.
Jon likes it; likes the way it makes her feel powerful. He doesn't fall apart like this for anyone else; nobody gets to see this but her.
He gets vocal when he gets close, choking out little broken noises in time with the minute flex of his hips, and she pulls off just before he finally starts to come, curling her free hand tightly around his dick while she strokes over his prostate, and watches as he throws back his head and spurts all over his stomach, clenching around her fingers.
"God, Jon," he breathes out when he's finished, when the muscles in his stomach have stopped jumping.
"Shhh," she says, and bends her head to his chest, cleaning him up with broad swipes of her tongue, grinning when she sees his spent cock twitch again at the sight of her licking up his come.
She kisses him when she's done, groaning at the eager way he chases his own taste on her tongue, and it takes her three tries to grope around for the key to the handcuffs and unlock them, because she doesn't want to stop kissing him.
Brendon rubs his wrists when she lets his arms down, and then plucks the cuffs from her hands. "My turn now?" he asks, jangling the cuffs, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously up at her.
Jon laughs and offers him her wrists. "Your turn," she agrees.