Envision This-
Disclaimer: I ran out of loose change to throw down the wishing well, a shame that.
Pairing: House/Wilson, cuz I can.
Genre: Romance
Rating: Mature
Summary: A House/Wilson scene for all those diehards. SWS, my version of PWP, bwaha.
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Naked, Wilson stood before me with his arm out stretched and his palm open, offering himself to me; I slap my own hand in his and allow him to drag me to the bedroom. I stare as his ass as he makes his towards the bed, so smooth and round, I wonder what it would be like draped over my lap, my hand coming down on it, spanking him for tormenting me for this long. Once we reach the room he lets go of my hand and falls on to the bed, he splays himself out over the surface of it and pats the space next to him, inviting me to join him, I pull off my tee-shirt and undo my fly while my eyes never leave his--which are focused totally on my zipper as my jeans drop to the floor around my ankles and my boxers go next. I step out of the puddle of my clothing and climb on to the bed, lying next to him on my good side wait to see what happens, I'm pleasantly surprised to feel Wilson's lips already on mine, it feels good and once we get into the rhythm of the kiss we move closer.
His mouth his soft and warm, I can tell as I slip my tongue past his pink lips, tasting him inside out and I realize I'm turned on by all of this when I feel Wilson shift himself against me and I tighten reasonably. My eyes are closed out of habit as I roll him on to his back, imagining Carmen Elektra beneath me instead of my best friend but when a long a leg kicks up in the air and wraps around my lower back I'm brought back to the image of Wilson enjoying the feel of my body pressed against his. Sure, I like being on top, but this is mainly due to the fact I'm a better giver then taker--in the sack anyway--as when I'm the one being taken I often finish faster, this way I can be assured to last longer then him. Two slender hands clasp the back of my neck and pull me deeper into the kiss, the control falls from my fingers and into his as he tangles one hand in my hair and a pathetic groan breaks from my lips, or is it his? To my shock, Wilson is much stronger then what most would think he is as he pushes me up and flips me over and under him, his one leg still strapped behind me, followed by the other one tucking under me so that he is properly straddling me.
Blood rushes from my one to my other as he shakes his hips and his inner thighs lock down on my waist, my hands find their way to his hips and I'm forced to grasp him just so that he'll stop wriggling against me and getting me hard. Pressing a rough kiss over my mouth, he slides down my body, kissing down my chest and torso until he's half off the bed and I'm closer to the back of it, him on his knees and me with my legs propped up and open. He takes his time but only just to see how far he can push my attraction before I let him go full contact, he starts out stroking me up and down until I start to strain and fidget and twitch in anticipation and then he goes in without warning. I thrust into his addictive and numbing mouth as he holds me in between his lips, opening and closing them over me and I can't stand it any longer.
"Wilson, mouth, harder, oh God." I beg as he sucks long and precise, complete and full as he works his mouth over me, I thrust again as keeps me pinned to the mattress. It feels so hypnotic the way his tongue swirls and snakes around me, pressuring me more and more with each subtle movement and I find myself missing be captured and closed in his generous mouth, he is so fantastic at this I moan aloud.
"More, Wilson, more, more!" A deep French kiss passes between him and House Jr. and it's so good that I clutch his head and pull him closer, I burning hot at the very sight of his head bobbing as he blows me and his lips pressed against my shaft. Amazingly, he knows just how I like it without questioning, his tongue tours and travels about my throbbing erection and when I swear he kisses me tenderly, this is enough to get me to squirm under the compression of his lips.
"Wilson, Wilson, Wilson." I gasp as his slick bottom lip runs up my aroused state but even as I'm trying valiantly to control myself he is grinning like a fool then his words come to me.
"Wrong name, House." He reprimands me, his tone polished with a patronizing note that annoys me incredibly but I'm in a bit of terrible desperation so I fold.
"Ohhhh, damn it!" I cuss, unable to resist. "Now, please, James." His upper lip brushes my hard on and I pound against him, he is so cruel.
"Now, was that so hard?" His taunts linger as shortly as his lips and I'd kill him in an instant but his lips recapture me and I howl in thankfulness.
My cries echo off the wall as I buck, he's so evil it hurts and I'm so sure this is not going to end well, but my rational mind left the moment Wilson stepped out of my bathroom in nothing but a robe and wet hair, and then lost the robe.
I'm not religious by any means but when he's like this it's impossible to fight him and my words. "Sweet Jesus, Mother Mary, Good LORD." Panting, I feel his tongue rove over me, splinter apart before giving me a drugging kiss and it feels way too good.
"Do you want me?" His words don't make sense to me but then again nothing right now does. "I said 'do you want me'?" He repeats and as I force myself into him I'm sure I've answered him. "Tell me, Greg. Do you want me, do you need me?"
My eyes are screwed shut, as I respond not to my own accord. "Yes, yes, oh James, fuck me!"
The rest falls into a haze, he stops his lips and instead uses his hands--those soft and supple hands--cupping me up in them, he is so loving when he pushes me from palm to palm and kneads me carefully so that I flex in the right direction and then drowns me out with sweet, tempting words. Its unbelievable with him, he knows how delicate and angry I am and caters to that, smoothing and cradling me until I'm so close to the edge that I can't even form words and the worse part is he knows it. I spasm beneath him, my body combusts and in that moment I am free.
He smirks when my orgasm hits but I don't see it since I shoot straight into a beautiful oblivion.
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The water splashes down on me and I hiss, I know it should be cold but those are too painful for my leg to handle, especially after all the flashbacks from childhood ice baths. His name is on my lips as I manipulate the situation, my lathered up Mr. Up, being quenched by a stinging heat, I close my eyes as I picture it--all of it--and whimper quietly. It's so real in my mind, I replay it over and over again in my head, only changing small details like settings or what he is wearing, things like that, while mentally slapping myself for such thoughts. This, unfortunately, is not my first shower fantasy to the thought of Wilson and I'm sure it won't be the last, for this is the fifth time this month I've jacked off to Dream Wilson under, over or inside me. I lick my lips as I cum, the two syllables of his name being drawled slowly as my arousal goes down the drain.
When I climb out of the shower, damp and bare, I limp to my kitchen and spot the calendar tacked up on the wall, October 5th, it reads. "Fuck."
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Teh Ending.