Title: His Hands
Pairing: Johnny/Walt
Rating: M
Length: 1,021 words
Disclaimer: I don't own The Dead Zone or it's characters (but in my sick and twisted head they're all mine – hahahaha!). And although I'm broke I'm not making money off of this (but a girl can dream).
Summary: This chapter is from Walt's POV. All chapters will be PWP fantasies.
Author's Notes: I have ideas for future chapters from each of their perspective POVs (I've even half-completed the next one). I just want to get some idea if there is any actual interest in me continuing with this series.
Beta: Carla (who I want to thank for being a constant inspiration and a kind supportive listener).
It always starts with his hands--hands that hold so much power yet at the same time remain so gentle--hands that tremble slightly when they're about to touch something important, something special.
His hands are trembling now. They're hovering above me, trembling as they move so slowly toward me; it's almost as if they're moving in slow motion.
My body screams in desperate need for his touch, for the heat in it, for the soft feel of his hands upon my naked skin. But I don't give voice to my need nor do I dare move, afraid of breaking this spell and making him disappear forever.
I can barely make him out in the darkness but I know it's him. The glowing light of the moon is streaming down upon his hair, highlighting the already golden locks and giving an almost savage glint to his determined ice-blue eyes.
My heart is thunders in anticipation and my breathing begins to quicken, harshly ending the peaceful quiet of the bedroom and I can't help but to watch him with rapidly growing fascination.
I cease to breathe when he finally touches me, trailing light caresses over my face, my lips--like whispers across my skin. His hands continue to become bolder, stronger in their mission, moving down over my neck and my shoulders to my hairy chest, slowly examining the muscles he finds there. His touch grows to a gentle massage and when he moves over my nipples I bite my lip in an attempt to stop the gasps escaping.
I know that he must feel the rapid pounding beneath his hands, hear my short breaths of excitement. But I can not stop my reaction to him, nor do I want to.
I want this, I want him too much to turn back now.
I can feel all my muscles straining against my self-inflicted position on the bed, pleasure building so quickly that I can barely control myself from touching him in return. And I want touch him so badly that I can almost taste it.
He is ever so slowly tracing the hair down from over my chest towards my groin when he accidentally brushes my pulsing erection with his arm and I can't stop the groan when it finally escapes my lips or my instinctive urge to move closer to that desired caress. I instantly shut my eyes at this betrayal of movement and noise, this acknowledgement of what is actually happening here between us and I silently pray to whatever being that brought him here that he doesn't stop now. I've never been so aroused in my entire life as I am at this moment.
When I feel his hands leave my body I can almost feel my world begin to shatter and I start to panic that he'll leave forever and that I'll never have this chance again. Even with my eyes closed I can still feel his sharp gaze on my skin, can hear his short gasping breaths and I make a decision.
Continuing where he left off, I slowly move my hands.
He can have no question as to what I'm about to do. I feel him watching my hands intently as they move easily down my sweat glistened skin towards my waiting cock.
I can hear him gasp as I slowly wrap my fingers around myself and I can't help it when that causes another moan with the delicious sensation that brings.
Using the pre-cum already leaking from the tip as lubricant, my hand starts to move up and down in a familiar firm rhythm. The friction sends darts of electricity up my spine and knowing that he is watching me do this a few feet away only spurns me to go faster. I can feel the already intense pleasure surge incredibly higher and I have to bite my lip again to refrain from moaning his name aloud.
I know that I can't last much longer so I increase the speed of my hand and I can distantly hear myself grunting at the almost painful pleasure of it. Even though my hand is a frenzy of movement, my hips are surging up to meet it, thrusting my torturously hard cock into one hand as my other is desperately clutching at the bed sheets for support.
I can still feel him there but he is closer now, watching me as I am fucking my own hand, wishing that it was his. I almost stop at the shock of his breath on my ear but I am too caught up in this selfish game that we're playing.
"Are you going to come for me?" he whispers in a dark, husky voice.
Hearing him say those words makes me shudder and I can only manage a breathless "Yes" in reply as I increase my speed yet again, my back arching in response.
In an even darker voice, that every cell in my body strains to hear, he whispers "I want to watch you come all over yourself for me," and I can barely breathe.
"I want to watch you come for me, and then I want you to fuck me"
And the image of bending him over and fucking him senseless is all it takes to send me over the edge, the pleasure overwhelming me in waves and I scream out as my come explodes onto me. Breathing heavily, I collapse back against the bed completely exhausted.
In my post coital delirium I whisper, "I love you John". I feel a small smile on my lips as I quickly fall into a light sleep.
Later on, when I finally force my eyes to open, I am not surprised that he is not here. Not because this was a mistake, something to be easily forgotten, but because he wasn't real. He is just my secret lover, my secret obsession, my secret fantasy.
I'm just glad that Sarah wasn't here to see me masturbating. This wasn't the first time that this has happened and it certainly won't be the last.
It's only a matter of time before she finds out.
END.