there she goes... there she goes again...

[just-a-duck.livejournal.com]

This is my second attempt to respond to the Cavity Challenge after my first attempt got laughed out of the theatre. ^_^ I hope this one's at least slightly more appropriate? You be the judge.

Author: Ducky!
Title: Like a Virgin
Pairing: Stephen/Jon
Rating: oh, NC-17 for sure
Warnings: Don't get any fluff into your breathing orifices, ok?
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual person is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'Viacom', any associated entites, or any copywrited material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976, and is not intended to infringe upon any copywrited material.



At first, you would never have consented to wearing a blindfold. However the last little... excursion changed that. Now, you're willing to be deprived of any sense he wants to take from you. It's actually quite relaxing to know neither of you need to have your guard up.

It's the weekend before your birthday and you're away in Lawrence Township with your family, and your lover and his family. You both decided it was just too shitty being away from your wives and kids, so this is the compromise you've made. Right now, the ladies are at the inn with all four kids (God bless 'em), allowing you and Stephen some "Daddies Only" time together tonight. Except that apparently you can't know what it is - birthday surprise, or some shit. The cotton scarf wrapped around your face means all you can tell, is that the car you're in doesn't smell like either of yours. It has a hint of New Car Smell, but not brand new. At least that nose is useful for something. Heh. Stephen's been holding your hand the whole time.

A new sound makes you jump... radio static? Super Sounds of the '70s... he's not gonna cut off your ear, is he? You already did that role-play. You weren't blindfolded, you were duct taped to a chair. Stephen makes an even sexier Mr Blonde than the one in the film. And you seriously doubt Michael Madsen can do anything like that with his tongue. You decide you may as well relax and let the self-declared King of Role Play set the mood.

Eventually, the car comes to a stop. You barely have a second to try and gauge your surroundings before you feel his warm presence near you. He strokes your cheek, then kisses your lips gently and you're... aroused? Surely it can't really have been that long since you two have had a chance to... wow. A low purr rumbles deep in your chest. You didn't know you could do that before, but, yeah, you purr as he brings your lips together again; teases your tongue with his, slowly. It's probably the gentlest, sweetest kiss the two of you have ever shared, and you find yourself beginning to fall in love with him all over again.

If you had known it would be like this, the feelings you would end up having for him... maybe you wouldn't have been so hot on the whole open marriage thing. She means the world to you. It can't be right to feel that way about more than one person... can it? You both thought you were above jealousy but you know she can't approve of how he's making you feel right now. You just pray that there is space enough in your heart and you can be the luckiest man alive, caring for the both of them.

You heave a lovesick sigh as he deftly loosens the flannel scarf covering your eyes. Then the kiss is over. You open your eyes and... For a split second you feel disappointed; this must just be a dream. But one look at his nervous, hopeful face assures you that it couldn't be more real.

"Oh, Stephen!" is all you can manage as your eyes try to take everything in at once. To your left, behind him, is the old soccer field where you used to play with all the meathead jocks you hung out with for protection. Straight ahead, the Quad, where you all used to eat lunch. And still standing beside that: Lawrence High School.

Boyishly, he smiles at you from his spot in the driver's seat, and then you see it. Without even getting out, you realize the car you're in is an authentic '75 Chevy Nova. Every guy used to have one of these old things. You're dumbstruck. Did he really do all this for you?

"Oh my God, Stephen!"

"You like it?"

"Stephen it's gorgeous..."

"Good. I borrowed it from my dad for the weekend."

"Stephen, your dad doesn't -"

Then you catch the subtle twinkle in his eye.

"Your dad doesn't... ever... let you borrow his car."

He grins, knowing you understand now and are willing to play along. "Well I did it for you, baby." He holds both your hands in his. "Happy birthday, Jon."

You look into his eyes and smile genuinely, before throwing his glasses to the dashboard, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Your tongues dance playfully and he holds you, very gently. Then he pulls away, seemingly with great difficulty.

"Jon?"

"Mmm?" His neck tastes really good.

"Wait, wait, I've really gotta say this." Reluctant, you detach yourself and listen. "Jon. We've been... seeing each other for a while now." He twirls the kinks of your hair in his fingers, turning your head toward a nearby tree. Its bark is chicken-scratched all over; the freshest marks read "JL SC." Around the writing is scrawled a misshapen heart. "You're the handsomest guy in school and... Jon, I just really like ya." You're still staring in disbelief at the emblem on the tree. He must have come by earlier to etch it in. "Would you... I mean, I would be so happy, if you would go steady with me?"

When you whirl back around to face him, sure enough, he's holding a Lawrence High pin in his hand. He looks into your eyes and you don't know whether to laugh or weep with emotion. So you just melt into character and say, "Stephen, I will."

His face breaks into an adorable grin, and he pins the pin on your sweater (the tight black one he calls your 'fuck me' sweater). Kissing like teenagers, you fall backward with the car's seat; he must have discreetly triggered the switch, the sneaky bastard. Never breaking your kiss he lands in between your legs. You... giggle? No, you laugh. Yeah. You laugh into his mouth but he just kisses with more intensity, his hands finding your chest and - hello! - ass.

"Excuse my wandering hands, Jon," he breathes into your ear, making you shiver. "It's just so hard to mind my manners and be a gentleman when I'm with you..."

He scatters rough kisses on your ear and up and down your neck. You're fucking purring again and make no protest when you feel him sliding your shirt up and off. The leather seats are cold and smooth against your skin.

His kisses slow, becoming soft, teasing. "Jonny?"

"Yes."

"You know I'm leaving for Vietnam soon."

You're about to laugh but the tip of his tongue runs up your neck.

"Ah-huh..."

"Jon... I want to be your first."

"First wha?" He is seriously impairing your ability to form a decent sentence.

"Let me make love to you, Jon."

You can't answer; he's circling your nipple with his tongue and rubbing the inside of your thigh. Your rational thought, therefore, is on a cruise somewhere, having a Pina Colada. What the fuck did they teach this man in Second City?? How - how! - can one man possibly feel so completely wonderful?

"Please, Jonny. I need to be inside you."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what? When this whole... thing started, the unspoken agreement was that you would always be the one to... y'know, pitch. That's how you figured it. After all, Stephen had a little experience (college) and you... well...

Before you can formulate an answer, your jeans are undone and... hmm, now that's not fair, is it? He moves down, pulling them off you, along with your boxers. Happily, he swipes his rough tongue over your balls and your body involuntarily tries to shove everything down his hot throat.

"Fuck, Steve!" you whine, incapacitated.

He climbs back up your body. Whispers seductively in your ear. "Come on, don't you trust me? I promise your parents won't find out... I want to express my feelings for you baby, physically. Please?"

"Do it, Steve. I... I want you to fuck me." Hell, you'd let him piss on you at this point.

You've never seen a shirt come off so fast. At least, not that you can recall, which isn't saying much considering the situation. Reaching up, you paw at his substantial arousal before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He takes your hips and lifts you into the backseat. Then, he kneels between your legs, breathing all heavy and shit, and just kinda looking at you. Somehow he manages to make you feel naked under his gaze. Actually you are naked, but now he makes you feel... nakeder, grinning down at you. You can't help but smile back; that's just what he does to you. He reaches under the seat and when he retrieves a small bottle, you really can't help but feel immense relief.

Stephen locks eyes with you, squeezing a sizable blob of the stuff into his right hand. Nonsensical though it may seem, there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the car. Slowly, he slicks it over himself, becoming heavy-lidded but still managing to hold your gaze. It's... fucking intense. He's a born performer; you've gotta give him that... You take in the performance, hoping to engrave the erotic image into your memory.

"Damn..."

Gently he pushes your legs apart, jolting to memory what it is you just agreed to. Fear suddenly starts to compete with arousal for dominance in your body and mind.

"Steve... Stephen?"

"Yes, my love."

"Will it... hurt?" You can't help but notice his dick perks up a bit when you ask this.

"It might hurt a pinch, at first. But after that, it's well worth it. And don't worry if you bleed a tiny bit, too. After all," he says, leaning down to your face, "that does happen with virgins..."

As the first finger plays delicately at your entrance, you have to wonder how, until now, it eluded you that he could be so gentle. Tenderly, he kisses your lips, then there's the nice, familiar sensation of his warm hand wrapping around your dick . The resulting moan chokes into a gasp as the digit slides in without resistance.

"There..." he says, soothingly. "That's not too bad, is it?" He offers a kind smile but you don't answer; you're focusing on your breathing. It's not good, bad, anything. So you wait. He starts pleasuring you with his hand, setting a languid, sensual pace. Comforted, you relax, allowing a second finger to join the first inside you. You notice you're writhing a bit, and it is with great caution that you let your body do what it feels like. It's probably providing him with an ego boost, anyway.

His tongue peeks out between his lips as his brow wrinkles. He actually looks like a little kid trying to sign his name for the first time. You feel his fingers wiggle around a bit and...

"Steve." It comes as a whisper. "That feels... really nice. Like I mean, really, really -" He draws another gasp from you by applying a gentle pressure. Stars explode behind your eyelids, which are now, of course, slammed shut. Fuck. You never even imagined... Well you've heard about it but... fuck!

"Yeah, Jon," he growls. "That's how you make me feel... sweet, isn't it?"

"Yes!"

He can't ever, ever stop touching you right there. Never, never... shit, he did. You feel yourself pushing down, your body seeking those fingers again. A whine of frustration permeates the air. That wasn't you, was it?

You thought you'd tense up when you felt his dick at your entrance, but your body is so desperate for that pleasure again. You're surprised to actually find your legs opening wider to him.

"Steve..."

"Don't worry, baby. I'll be so gentle..."

So he leans down over you, on his arms, his face descending to your neck. "I love you," he says, as he enters your body for the first time.

Ow. It feels like three or four of him are in there, for chrissakes! You suck a few deep breaths. He brushes his lips against yours, ever so delicately, and the brief moment of panic is over. Stephen is with you now. This is a man you love, who you would trust with your fucking life. He's gonna make this good for you. You know he will.

Relaxing, you let your mouth move against his. This is how you decide to stay for a while: him inside you, the two of you just kissing and cuddling like teenagers, in the backseat of a borrowed car, under the moonlight. It feels like a fairy tale from your youth, except that it never happened before. Not in high school. Not like this.

"Okay?" he whispers, nuzzling at your neck adoringly.

"More than," you reply. "Make love to me, Stephen."

Tightening his arms around your body, he slowly begins to move inside you. It feels amazingly different now that you're calm. He's on top of you - inside you - your legs are wide open and you don't feel vulnerable at all. What a powerful feeling trust is.

His gasping breaths are powerful against your neck. "Jon... babe... feel so good..." He barely shifts angles and pleasure melts your body again as if you were chocolate. Loud, almost theatrical moans start to break from your lungs with every exhale. Arching, your own body begins to move with his rhythm, dragging your length along his belly as the two of you make music together. You feel bad about being so loud, sort of wishing you could just enjoy it quietly like Stephen. You can't help it though - you're just a loud guy, and he makes you wild.

"Am I... God... Jesus..." He tries again: "Am I hurting you?"

"Steve... more..." That oughtta be enough to get the message across, shouldn't it?

"Oh," he breathes, as if hypnotized. "Those are good, then. Okay."

Burying his face deeper into you he rolls his hips against yours, faster, whispering words that only the two of you can understand. You run your hands all along his back, in his hair, hoping to express at least a fraction of what you're feeling, and knowing how impossible that is. Delicious little shivers start to race down the length of your spine, one after the other. You know he feels them.

"S'okay Jon... It's alright, sweetheart."

He lifts himself up to look into your eyes. That's when your climax finally strikes, and with it, comes an epiphany: for a second - a split, split second - you completely understand those intense expressions you've seen flash across your wife's features. So, this is what it's like for her, and for the one before her, and for every other woman you've fucked, from the first time on.

No wonder... no goddamn wonder at all.

Your muscles clamp down repeatedly on him, and you feel such pride in providing him the exquisite sensation you've felt so many times before. The look on his face is so easy to recognize. You just gave him an orgasm! Spilling his hot seed inside you, he comes with barely a squeak, then collapses, sweat-soaked onto you. You choose to be content just listening to him breathe. Somehow, you prefer him to speak first.

"Wow." Hmm. That'll do.

"Mmm, Stephen, that was amazing. Thank you..."

He chuckles. "No problem!" Then, "Wait'll I tell the guys I got to pop Jon Leibowitz's cherry."

Playful, you slap his arm. "Stephen! A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell!" He just smiles gently, wiping perspiration from your brow. "Stephen, I..." He gazes at you expectantly. You sigh. This should be easy. "I am so fucking in love with you."

Just for a moment, the shy, loving grin on his face really does make him look young... as young as he makes you feel.

"Fucking in love with you, too."

And with that he kisses you, slow, like he wants it to last forever. Maybe it could. You don't have curfew tonight.

FIN



*sniffle* Awww, how romantic. At least I hope. Anyway, let me know what you think.

Comments

[earenwe.livejournal.com]

You know, I'm usually not a big fan of smut, but you had them so totally adorable (I literally wanted to melt into a puddle of "omg, St ephen, you're so sweet" goo.) that I just kept on reading. It was gorgeous. That's talent. I hope you write more, thanks so much for sharing! :D

*squees* I think I have to read it again.

[just-a-duck.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the ego boost, haha!