37 – oh dear lord…SMUTTTTTTTTTTTT
Finally the children were off for the late afternoon art class, the den finally silent as wee Rose snored gently in her basket.
Ianto unceremoniously dropped his load of washing on the coffee table. It was only when his arms were free, and he had turned to face the couch and situate himself, that he noticed Jack's sleeping form already stretched across the length of the cushions.
He slept peacefully, his mouth closed though upturned into the semblance of a grin. Even in sleep he was the same goofy, lovable, handsome Jack, with tan face and sensual lips and jeans that hugged his long, lithe legs.
Ianto paused, his hands frozen above the couch, surprised by his sudden appearance and fearful he might wake him.
But Jack was a heavy sleeper, and Ianto's clumsy clattering had not broken the spell. Still he stood frozen above him, waiting to see if he would awaken. His breathing was even, his arms sprawled out; one hung limply down, the knuckles of its hand resting on the floor, the other was raised above him, encircling his head, the palm resting against his ear on the opposite side. This was his favourite position, arm around head. As he told him, there was something comforting about holding yourself. It was the best substitute if you didn't have your love to do it for you.
Ianto kneeled on the floor between the coffee table and the couch. He loved watching Jack sleep; he possessed a calm he struggled to find in his own life, stressed as he was this winter and the many demands of being an adult. Somehow, Jack had held onto the carefree attitude of childhood, though he was a grown man (and an able one at that, he thought), and this was apparent in the way he held himself, in the way he talked, and, like now, in the way he slept. He did everything fully, devoting himself entirely to whatever activity he happened to be undertaking. It was something he admired in him, something he envied, though he knew Jack was unsure of himself just like anyone else, and that, as he sometimes mentioned, he envied Ianto's drive, the worrying attitude that drove him to greater things.
Ianto leaned close to Jack's chest and breathed deep.
His scent, his musky, manly scent, filled Ianto's nostrils and he felt a rush of excitement course through him. It has been eight years—he was always amazed by this fact—eight years and still he desired him, needed him, and ached for him, just as much as when they'd first been getting to know one another. He thought of all the years and of all their many adventures: of Torchwood (and the first time they'd made love in that wee cot), of their race for the farm and the olds when it all went to shit, then the lake where there'd been little to do in their cabin, though they found plenty of ways to pass the time), of trips far and wide pilfering, new places to be together, new places to touch each other, new places to explore both sights and themselves.
Eight years, and he wouldn't wish it any other way. Eight years, and he was giddy because of how many more were yet to come.
Jack shifted, drawing his foot, the one resting on the arm of the couch, down and his knee up. His arm above his head did not move, but the one dragging the floor raised up and reached out to rest on Ianto's back.
"Mmm…Hi…my Holdfast…" Jack mumbled, not opening his eyes, not yet fully awake. He smiled and his head turned towards him.
"Hi, my sexy man." Ianto leaned forward and kissed the crook of his elbow. "How did you know I was here?"
Jack smiled wider.
"I always know…when you're near me." His voice was thick, the words working to find a way from his sleeping body.
"Well, shh, my sweet, I'm here, so go back to sleep."
"Sleep?"
"Yeah, sleep. Close your eyes and…" Jack giggled and his fingers ran along Ianto's back.
"Silly, my eyes are closed."
Ianto smiled and kissed his elbow again.
"Good. You're on the right track. Keep them closed and relax."
"Okay, my love. You got it, boss" Jack's hand dropped from Ianto's shoulder to the floor. He didn't say anything else, but his mouth cracked open and his breath evened.
Ianto moved the baby to the other room as he decided it was a good time for some 'afternoon delight' because it might have been eight bloody years but he would never get enough of that man in his den.
Ianto felt the rush of lust like a freight train as his hormones flooded his senses. Ianto settled his sweetling and went out to get him some!
Ianto put his mouth to his ear, struck by sudden inspiration, his laundry forgotten.
"Keep your eyes closed, dear," he whispered, "I've got a surprise for you. As a thank you for being such a good babysitter this afternoon."
Jack smiled again but did not say anything, only his eyebrows arched in anticipation.
Ianto stood and quickly undressed. He looked down over his body. He was slim, proud of the way he looked, although truthfully, he knew he was also lucky. He had never had to work for the way he looked. Ever.
Ianto kneeled down again and put his palms on the edge of the seat cushions. One hand he left here to support himself; the other he gently raised and placed on Jack's stomach. At his touch, Jack moved slightly, but otherwise did nothing, the smile still spread across his face. Ianto began to trace his fingers up his chest, over the curve of his muscles, up to his collarbone and across his long, columnar neck. He was wearing the same clothes from the afternoon except his boots he had kicked off onto the floor beside the sofa, his toes covered by a pair of argyle socks Ianto had given him not too long ago.
Ianto traced his lines, lingering at the bottom of the "V" on his v-neck shirt. His skin here was warm—he was always warm—and smooth.
Ianto moved his hand down, running down the crease between Jack's stomach muscles, until he came to the top of his jeans. With one hand, he deftly undid the belt. Taking the other from the couch, he unbuttoned his pants. Jack smiled wider and shifted, moving his hips towards him. Taking this opportunity of cooperation, Ianto stood up and took hold of the top of his jeans, one hand on either side of his hips. Jack knew what Ianto wanted, and without opening his eyes or changing his breathing, he pushed his hips up from the couch and Ianto pulled his pants down to his knees. He was wearing a pair of bright red underwear—another present he'd given him—and his growing bulge was clearly visible.
Jack lowered his hips to the couch. Ianto took hold his feet and raised his legs, slipping his jeans from his lower body and tossing them onto the floor next to his shoes.
Ianto kneeled next to him again and, with one hand playing at the waistband of his underwear, he used the other to feel his thighs, paler than the rest of him, but as strong as any other part.
Ianto slipped one finger into the band of his underwear. Jack was grinning now, obviously awake, yet fighting to remain impassive and compliant. Ianto's finger reached down and touched the tip of his manhood. Ianto's finger came away wet and he pulled his hand from his underwear and held it to his mouth.
"Mmmmmm…" he intoned, sliding the finger into his mouth. Jack's hips wiggled with pleasure.
Ianto reached back out to Jack's body. The mound in his pants was much larger now and, if he paid close attention, pausing to observe, he could see it quiver, see it vibrating underneath the cotton cloth.
Ianto's hand teased the waistband of his underwear again, now tracing his manhood on the outside, now dipping into it to touch him and feel his hardness. With each of his caresses Jack groaned, low, deep, happy.
Ianto teased him a while longer, letting his anticipation, and his own, grow. All at once his hand reached into his underwear and wrapped around his full length. Jack's body jumped under his touch, immediately settling into the couch, his hips already moving circularly to his rhythm.
Ianto took a breath. He could smell him now, his scent mingling with his, though Jack's was a deeper, spicier aroma. With a free hand, the hand not enveloping him, he pulled at Jack's underwear, lowering it onto his thighs. He could see all of him now, and feel him, see how the skin of his shaft was shiny, how the head was engorged, how at the very tip of him a dot of liquid had collected and shone dewy in the lamp of the main room.
Without removing his hand, Ianto bent down and licked the drop of liquid. Jack gasped, surprised at the sudden appearance of Ianto's tongue against him.
Ianto left his tongue on his body for a moment, relishing his feel and his pleasure and his taste. Ianto's hand moved down his shaft and closed around his testicles. Naked and hairless.
With his hand around his balls, he examined his now visible manhood. He was thick, long, thick and sturdy. Ianto licked the full length of him, enjoying the way he shuddered under his touch. With the tip of his tongue, he circled his head. He moaned a low sigh of delight.
Ianto's teased him a while longer, his tongue playing across the spongy underside of his cock's head. His hips were moving steadily now, grinding up towards Ianto's playful tongue. He moaned louder, almost whimpering with desire.
Ianto pulled back and, his lips puckered, blew a thin stream of cool air onto Jack's hot member. His cock trembled and twitched, the muscles contracting. Ianto bent down again and enveloped him in his mouth. Jack whimpered, groaning, his arm reaching up from the ground and rubbing across Ianto's shoulders.
Ianto kept him fully in his mouth, not moving, just letting him enjoy the warm sensation. His pelvis jumped excitedly, and, bowing to his unspoken request Ianto began to move his head up and down, letting his tongue trace the long seam of his cock, pausing at the top of each stroke, lingering on his head, lapping up the juice that collected on his tip.
Ianto knew Jack loved the way he used his mouth, loved the feel of his warm tongue and cheeks around him, and he used this knowledge to tease him, to grow his desire and anticipation as he used to back at the Hub once upon a time.
He was fully erect, so hard that his cock felt solid and unbreakable. Ianto assumed a quicker rhythm, enjoying how his hips quickly synchronized. Jack's hand crept up Ianto's shoulder, entangling itself in his hair, pulling it slightly, pushing his head down, and helping to drive the motion of his mouth up and down. Jack's head arched back into the head of the couch, his legs stretching out over the armrest.
All at once, Jack forced Ianto's head down as far as it could go, making him take the full length of him in his mouth. He held him there, not moving, no movement at all except for the twitching of his cock against his tongue.
Ianto held himself there and looked up at him, at his abs contracting and tightening as he curled his body towards him. Jack loosened his grip and Ianto raised his head and timidly licked the tip of his penis again.
While all of this was happening, Ianto's other hand had moved down between his legs. Ianto had found the lube in the sofa cushions and enjoying the way Jack enjoyed him, had begun to finger himself, a slim middle finger sliding in and out of his now wet hole, lingering at the opening, then driving into him as he lowered his mouth onto Jack's cock. Ianto was moaning now too, his pitch higher than Jack's, but matching his rhythm just the same.
Ianto pulled Jack out of his mouth and sat back. Without pulling out of himself, Ianto stood. Upright, he spread his legs slightly open and removed his finger, taking a moment to rub his dick.
Ianto lifted one leg and set his foot onto the couch on the other side of Jack, wedging it in between his body and the back cushions. Jack felt his leg and adjusted his body, giving him room. Ianto lifted his other leg, standing on the couch straddling the man below him.
Ianto lowered himself onto his knees, still using his hand to rub himself. Once on his knees, he centred himself over Jack. He lowered himself further, allowing Jack's cock to caress the edge of his hole. Ianto was wet and prepared, and his slickness mixed with Jack's and he slid back and forth against him. Jack pressed into him, though he held himself up slightly, not yet ready, delighting in the feel of him and how it would feel once Ianto let him inside.
Jack's hands were around Ianto's waist now, guiding his movements forward and back against him. Jack's eyes were closed—he wouldn't open them for anything—but his instincts guided him.
Ianto's arse was relaxed now, open, and Jack's cock began to push deeper and deeper into its wonderland. Ianto slid from the top of his head, letting it linger near his opening, to the bottom of his shaft, the rest of him pushing up. He ground further forward with each repetition, and, suddenly, on one of their undulations, his penis didn't slide back out, but slid in, both gasping as Ianto lowered himself onto him. Ianto was warm, warm and wet and tight, and he was thick, thick and wet and warm. He slid further down until Jack was fully inside. Neither of them moved.
They remained motionless for just a moment, settling themselves into this new sensation. Then Ianto began to gyrate back and forth, driving his hips towards his chest, and then grinding them back towards his knees. Jack was hard, harder than he normally was, no doubt turned on by this bossy top, and his thickness was so filling it almost hurt. With each push back of Ianto's pelvis, Jack's cock pushed against Ianto's insides, sending signals, pulses, of pleasure, shooting from where he pressed against him to the furthest reaches of his body.
Ianto's speed quickened, Jack's hands firmly gripping his waist, helping to keep the momentum. His hands held Ianto, guided him, and pushed him down harder onto him, filling him. Jack groaned, his toes curling, cramping.
Ianto used his hands at first to grip the back of the couch, then to run over Jack's chest, then to squeeze his own nipples, twirling his nipples between his fingers.
"OoooohOooooohOooooohYessssss….." Ianto groaned, his pleasure centres lighting up with each pulse of electricity Jack shot through him. With each push back of his hips he could feel Jack flexing his manhood, using the contraction of his muscles to push harder against his prostate. The same old feeling was rising in Ianto, its momentum almost too much, no longer within their control.
Ianto's head lolled back, his eyes up at the ceiling, seeing nothing. Jack's breath was ragged now too, coming in shallow gasps as he worked to keep the momentum. Ianto could tell Jack was close, and he could tell he was close too.
"Ianto," Jack managed to work out, "Ianto…I'm about to…I'm close…"
"Wait, Jack. Not yet. Hold it. I'm almost there…"
"Oh, Ianto…Ooooooh…"
The orgasm inside of Ianto grew, building like a wave approaching shore. The tip of Jack's cock pressed against the small knot of nerves inside of him, each tap against it almost unbearably nice. Ianto could feel himself beginning to contract and moved one hand from his nipple to Jack's hip, holding himself in place. Jack knew he was close and now held him tighter too, pushing him down and working to keep himself inside of him as his body contracted. He was building, his cock starting to contract and tighten all on its own, the pleasure mounting in the back of his mind, his body squeezing and relaxing with their rhythms.
"Jack, Jack, Jack…" Ianto chanted. There was nothing he could do now, no stopping. Ianto's body was heating up and he could feel the change in temperature inside of him, feel the rising sensation as his body ached towards its final goal.
"Jack, Jack, Jack…"
"Oh, fuck, oh Ianto, ohhhh…" Jack increased their speed again, driving himself forward as he drove Ianto back.
Ianto was contracting fully now, it was very difficult to stay inside, and Jack's arms were flexed, his muscles shining, dewy with sweat, his hands red from gripping Ianto's hips, working to keep him there. Their moaning had risen in pitch and now filled the den.
Suddenly, it happened. Ianto felt an overwhelming explosion, and then wetness spilled from him, rushing over Jack's stomach and chest. Jack's eyes snapped open, his head rising to watch Ianto against him. Ianto's whole body was shaking, Ianto's arms uncontrollable, no longer gripping at his hips but raised above his head, riding Jack wantonly.
Jack struggled to keep his eyes open, driving Ianto back and forth and watching and feeling him undulate around his cock.
"Oh, shit! Here it comes…" he yelled, and all at once he began to shake too, his toes knocking against each other, his arms flexing tightly against Ianto. Jack's eyes rolled back into his head and he struggled to keep them open, struggled to keep his gaze fixed on Ianto's writhing body. Ianto felt Jack's hot spunk shoot into his body, and shoot and shoot and shoot, an army of pent up soldiers restless from their afternoon together.
Ianto was still coming, his arse muscles contracting forcibly against Jack, each contraction squeezing more from Jack and more from him. Jack could feel the creamy liquid flowing down over his testicles, running down his perineum to the cushion below him. He groaned and his body contracted and still more hot liquid poured from Ianto's thin, quivering body onto Jack's erupting cock as Ianto's load now trickled from Jack's chest and stomach around his waist.
Their shaking began to subside, Ianto's lasting long after Jack's had stopped and Jack lay relaxed and exhausted against the couch. Even though he had come, his cock remained hard, helping Ianto to ride wave after wave of pleasure. Finally, he too fell over onto Jack exhausted, his breathing uneven and stuttering.
"Oh. My. Goddess." he huffed.
"Mmmmm, Yan," Jack hugged Ianto to him, smelling his hair. "I forgot how horny you get when preggers."
"Huh?"
"Not a complaint" Jack laughed as he slapped the bare arse of his love, "Never ever gonna be one!"
Ianto hummed and nuzzled his love.
That felt soooooo much better.
,',
,
,
,
Whew. I don't know about you but I sure needed that!