In the midst of enjoying an 'afternoon delight' with his husband, Kurt suddenly remembers an extremely important phone call that he forgot to make. Sebastian isn't about to let that get in the way of his orgasm…or three…sans kid in the house, and Kurt isn't going to let Sebastian fucking him keep him from making his important phone call.
"Oh, God…" Kurt moans, rolling his head on his neck as he raises and lowers himself, up and down, up and down, on his husband's cock. "Oh, God…oh, God…oh, God…"
Usually the sound of Kurt moaning is enough to drive Sebastian completely, out of his mind, fire burning from his head to his toes insane, but something about this constant chant doesn't sound as erotic as Kurt's normal whimpers of ecstasy. This sounds tired…distracted…maybe even a little bored.
"Uh, Kurt," Sebastian says, tapping his husband's stomach to get his attention. Kurt lowers his eyes, and Sebastian, lying beneath him, gives him a little wave. "Yeah, hi…Kurt, I can't help but feel like you might not be enjoying yourself. Or maybe that you, you know, would rather be somewhere else?"
"Oh, no!" Kurt's face shifts quickly, guilted by his husband's assumption. "No, no…it's not that…"
"Good," Sebastian says, blowing out a sigh of relief, "because we only have about thirty minutes before the van brings Thomas and Hepburn home, so I would really like to get at least three orgasms in before then. You know, the obscenely loud, I don't care who hears kind? So, chop chop, and make with the fucking."
Sebastian actually claps at Kurt, and Kurt swats him on the chest.
"I am…I will…it's just…I…I feel like I'm forgetting something."
"Yeah," Sebastian says, bucking up under his husband's static body, "you forgot that you're fucking your husband, now come on."
"No, it's not that…" Kurt's voice drifts off. "It's something…important…"
Sebastian scowls at Kurt, ready to tell him off, when Kurt snaps his fingers, his face going suddenly blank, his eyes flying open wide.
"OhmyGod! The new therapist! I forgot to schedule the meeting with the new therapist!"
Sebastian's brow creases, causing sweat above his nose to roll down the bridge. "What new therapist?"
"Thomas's new occupational therapist!" Kurt elaborates, hoping that now it will jar Sebastian's memory. "You know, the guy up in Ridgemont Valley? The one that Wes said we have to jump on because his schedule fills up fast?"
"Well, you're jumping on me now," Sebastian pouts, using his hands to try and persuade his husband's hips to move, "so the therapist can wait."
"No, it cannot wait!" Kurt mimics in exasperation, leaning toward the nightstand and grabbing his phone. "I should have called him yesterday, but I was tied up."
"I know," Sebastian smirks, biting his lower lip. "I have the pictures."
"Yeah, you're funny," Kurt deadpans. "Remember, you promised you'd passcode those. We don't need a repeat of Christmas when Carole needed to borrow your phone." Sebastian can't help snickering at the memory of his mother-in-law's shocked face, even though she was cool about it afterwards, swiping through Sebastian's gallery, commenting on form and composition, while Kurt and his dad sank deep into the cushions of the couch.
Sebastian knows snickering will only make Kurt swat him again.
And Kurt does.
"Let me up so I can make this call."
"Nu-uh," Sebastian says, locking his hands around Kurt's hips. "You want to make that call, you do it from right here. I ain't stopping."
"Sebastian Smythe," Kurt scolds, dialing the number while his husband holds his hips hostage and starts fucking him slowly, "you know, you can be a real assho-Oh, hello! My name is Kurt Hummel-Smythe, and I'm calling for Dr. Redding. I'm trying to make an appointment for my son, Thomas Hummel-Smythe?...That's right. Dr. Leung referred us…Uh, my husband is a bit occupied at the moment…okay, I'll hold…"
"No, you won't," Sebastian mutters vindictively, spitting in his palm and grabbing Kurt's cock, torturing him with long, slow strokes, then switching to quick, hard pumps, swiping over the head and the drop of pre-cum forming, twisting on the down stroke the way Kurt likes. Kurt's free hand creeps down his body to toy with his husband's nipples, his head falling back as he absorbs every stroke, all while listening intently for the hold muzak on the phone to cut off.
"Ah, yes, Dr. Redding. Hello," Kurt says, not even in a moan, and Sebastian feels disappointed at all his sensual hard-work gone to waste. "I wanted to talk to you about making a new patient appointment for my son, Thomas?...Yes, his father will be present as well…yes, I can forward you his school records and his immunization card…yes…I see…I understand…I'll be sure to fill out that paperwork today…"
Throughout Kurt's conversation, Sebastian slowly ups the ante. He takes Kurt's roaming hand in his mouth and sucks on his fingers, one at a time. He scratches lightly up Kurt's thighs, fondles his balls, and strokes gently over his shaft with just his fingertips, employing the many ways he knows to tease his husband to this side of insanity.
"The thirteenth?" Kurt continues in an unsullied voice. "Is that a Thursday?...Then that'll be fine…Yes, he has a service animal, we'll be sure to bring him along. And his shot records?…Yes…absolutely he's had a recent rabies vaccination…"
Sebastian strokes faster, scratches harder, his fondles turning in to deep massages, watching in awe as his infallible husband continues to discuss the specifics of their son's anxiety disorder with this new therapist. Kurt's not completely unfazed by the effort Sebastian's putting in to slipping him up, hoping to make Kurt lose it in the form of a moan or an expletive, but he exhibits a level of self-control that's positively inhuman.
That voice of his, that can sing like a siren in the throes of passion, doesn't waver a teeny tiny inch.
"Yes," Kurt says, smiling his most satisfied and diplomatic smile. "Yes, we'll be there on Thursday. And yes, we'll have those records sent to your office as soon as possible. I really appreciate you being able to squeeze us in last minute like this…" Sebastian's jaw drops when Kurt doesn't even chuckle at that pun. "Thank you very much. Good afternoon."
Kurt hangs up the call, and in a split second, everything changes. He slams his iPhone down on the bed and tosses his head back, releasing a long, shattered, pent up moan.
"Oh my God, oh my God!" Kurt's whole body shakes, his ass pounding down on Sebastian's cock, his restraint ready to break.
"How the fuck do you do that?" Sebastian asks.
"Discipline," Kurt says, swallowing the word. "Focus…and a lot of fucking practice."
"When do you practice that?" Sebastian asks.
"Do you remember when I said you can be a real asshole?" Kurt grunts. "Do you know how many times you've stuck your hand down my pants in public? Lecture halls? Libraries? Movie theaters? Family dinners?"
"Oh, yeah," Sebastian says, as if he forgot, or the thought had never occurred to him. "I guess I have, huh?"
"Yeah, well, let's hurry this up! Chop chop!" Kurt teases. "Not only will Thomas be home in about" – His eyes drift to his iPhone – "seventeen minutes, I've got a shitload of paperwork to email to Dr. Redding's office."
"You know," Sebastian groans when his husband pins his body to the mattress and starts to ride him into it, "the way you can switch gears like that from man-whore to dad is hot, but it's also kind of disturbing...you know, considering…"
"That's what's wrong with you and your one-track mind," Kurt says, his spine shivering, desperately aching to cum. "You don't know how to multi-task."