8. Friction

As their kiss grew more involved, Reese realized that it was placing a strain on Finch’s back, and insisted on making him lie down. Removing his glasses for him and setting them on the bedside table, he resumed his passionate tongue-locking, which Finch struggled to mimic.

“Don’t try so hard,” he gently told him when they came up for air. “Just let it happen. And if you want me to stop, don’t be afraid to say so.”

“A—All right,” Finch panted, quite out of breath already.

Reese smiled as he pressed his lips against the smaller man’s forehead, cheeks, and nose, as though determined to cover his face with kisses. Far from relaxing, he heard Finch’s breathing grow more labored, so he backed off for a while, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at him serenely. Finch blushed, unsure how to respond to such frank adoration.

“You really are damn cute, you know,” Reese teased, running a finger down Finch’s chest. “You’re as innocent as a little schoolgirl.”

Finch’s blush deepened, but he only replied, “I’m sure I won’t be for long… I have a feeling you’ll be… divesting me of such restraints… in rather short order.”

“Finch…” Reese paused, feeling uncharacteristically awkward. “I don’t want to force you into it… it has to be the right choice for both of us. When you’re ready, really ready, I’ll know; and trust me, I won’t hold back! But for now… I’m just glad to touch you… here… and here… and here…”

While he spoke, Reese had untied Finch’s belt with one hand to open up his bathrobe, punctuating his last words with kisses that he placed along the other man’s newly-exposed chest. His mouth moved as though by instinct to find one nipple, which it latched on to with zeal, alternately sucking and licking the tiny protrusion as though it might give up some nourishment with enough stimulation. But the fact that he was able to make himself so free with Finch – who was not resisting in the least – was nourishment enough for his long-deprived soul.

Finch closed his eyes as his heart fluttered with each sensation, and had to will himself to breathe. His hands had wandered of their own accord to encircle Reese, landing on the lean, rippling muscle of his back. When Reese suckled on his breast, his hands gripped the taller man in a tight embrace, holding on for dear life while he was assailed in such unexpected ways. Coupled with how comfortable his neck and hip were – giving him almost no pain – it was as if he had been reborn with a new body. He felt Reese’s tongue move down his torso, leaving a sensitive wet trail that excited goose bumps when Reese’s breath moved across it, and gasped as the sinewy warmth dipped into his navel.

“Looks like somebody hasn’t been getting enough action,” Reese remarked and fondled Finch’s privates, which had responded yet again to the titillating touches. “It’s not healthy, you know, to neglect your needs for so long…”

“I haven’t been neglec—ahhh!” Finch cried out as Reese simultaneously pulled up on his member and licked the tip of it. The sudden stimulation caused him to grow rapidly to his full girth and length, and Reese found that he could only fit half of it comfortably in his mouth. Still, when he suckled on it like he had the nipple, Finch’s reaction was strong and clear.

“Ah! Ahh… ahhh! J—John… oh, god…”

Letting his hands take over for a moment, Reese looked up at Finch. It was somewhat difficult to see his face, for his back had arched like a bow, leaving only his nose visible beyond the bridge of his stomach. His nostrils were flared as he tried to take in great draughts of air.

“Do you like this, Harold?” Reese asked in a coy, seductive tone, although the answer was obvious. Rubbing his thumbs up the underside of the shaft almost immediately produced a bead of clear pre-come at the slit.

“Oh, god… John… yes… ahhh!” Finch panted, his hands (now that Reese’s shoulders were out of reach) grabbing fistfuls of the sheet. “So good… oh!

Reese was already stroking the other man’s shaft with both hands, but now he also buried his face in Finch’s groin to lick the backside of his balls. They tightened and drew up along the base of the now-leaking shaft, indicating how soon they might release their load. Slowly, deliberately, Reese slid his hands up the pulsing organ one last time before removing them altogether.

“J—John?” Finch queried, startled at being deprived of the heavenly warmth.

“Just a moment,” Reese replied, grabbing the pink bag and digging in it for another box. “I didn’t think you’d want minty lotion in such a delicate area. This one is a hydrating lotion.”

Liberally applying it to his hands, he then slathered it on Finch’s straining manhood. Finch thought his head – both heads – would explode from the delectable sensations, but just when he thought he could stand no more, another hot appendage was added to the mix: Reese’s own weeping manhood.

“Ohhh… Finch…” Reese breathed, luxuriating in the smooth friction and heat generated by sliding their two organs together. His hands wrapped around both of them, creating a slippery tunnel, and when he pressed himself further up, their balls came into contact with some scratchiness as their hair became entangled.

“Oh! John! Oh, god! Oh!” Finch gasped, pressing up against the other man’s member in desperate need.

“Finch… Finch…” Reese repeated like a mantra, letting his body take over to thrust against that wonderful heat and hardness over and over. As he sensed his climax approaching, he felt Finch’s organ shove up hard and shudder, ejecting his come in long, satisfying strands. It drove Reese over the edge as well, and by the time he had finished releasing his own pent-up passion, Finch’s stomach and chest were covered with the evidence of their slaked lust.

Reese bent over Finch’s form, letting go of their dwindling male members in favor of slipping his arms around the supine man’s torso and lowering himself, carefully, to lie on top of him.

“That was… amazing,” he sighed, pressing yet another kiss on Finch’s shoulder.

“It… certainly was,” Finch agreed. After catching his breath (which took a few minutes), he awkwardly placed his arms around Reese’s shoulders and held him. It seemed odd but he felt more nervous about that simple act of affection than he had about allowing Reese to manipulate him sexually.

As for Reese, he was struggling with his emotions, trying hard not to cry for happiness at the gesture. He understood how reserved Finch was, and appreciated the gesture for what it truly meant: acceptance and an effort to reach out, to reciprocate his undisguised love. Far from rejecting his advances (as Reese had feared he might), Finch seemed almost glad to receive them, and was definitely willing to explore the boundaries of their new relationship. That alone was more than Reese had ever dared to hope for.

“Are you comfortable?” Reese checked, not wanting to undo any benefits of the massage he had performed earlier.

“Oh, yes. Very,” Finch answered with a smile curling around his words. “You really are… very good with your hands, Mr. Reese.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Finch,” Reese grinned. Shifting to get closer, he realized that the combined mess of their come was now clinging, like slimy glue, to both of their stomachs. “Oh!” slipped out from his lips before he could stop it.

“What is it?”

“I… It just occurred to me, that you might have preferred if I’d used a condom. Or two.”

“That’s quite all right, Mr. Reese – I took the liberty of accessing your medical records before I contacted you for this job. I can’t imagine that you would have allowed yourself to be contaminated with any… diseases, in the short time since your last exam.”

Reese considered this for a moment.

“But maybe I should have protected myself from you,” he parried, deadpan, without removing his face from where it was pillowed on Finch’s chest.

“You may be right,” Finch calmly retorted. “There’s no telling what sorts of… bloodcurdling pestilences I might have contracted, here in a public library.”

“No doubt you have bookworms.”

“Of course. Highly contagious.”

They lay together in contented silence for a while, and Reese noted that Finch grew more comfortable in his new position, his arms relaxing against Reese’s back and shoulders. However, he was still startled when Finch suddenly combed his fingers through Reese’s hair in an even more intimate gesture.

“It’s grown quite dark out,” Finch commented into the stillness. “Perhaps we should think about getting up and showering.”

“What for?” Reese asked, not wanting to move.

“Dinner, Mr. Reese. There’s a rather nice restaurant on the top floor – it was one of the reasons why I chose this hotel,” Finch explained, his fingers continuing to stroke Reese’s hair. “I thought it would be… civilized, to have a real dinner together for a change.”

“Oh… So you don’t care for Chinese take-out?”

“It’s fine for when we’re working on a case, but sometimes I find it refreshing to sit down and be waited upon. I’ve made reservations for seven-thirty. I do hope we have time to make ourselves presentable by then?”

Reese looked over at the clock. “Yes, I suppose so. But we’ll have to shower together to save time.”

“There are two bathrooms in this suite, Mr. Reese.”

“But that would be a waste of water, Mr. Finch. And we all need to be conscious of the environment.”

As Reese delivered this line with perfect aplomb, looking into Finch’s face with his eyes opened wide, Finch acquiesced with a quirk of his lips.

“For the environment, then. I suppose we must all make some sacrifices.”

Finch hadn’t counted on having Reese wash his back, much less the rest of his body, but he resigned himself to a certain degree of manhandling and submitted to the other man’s ministrations. Not that Reese was rough with him – merely thorough. He took pains to ensure that every inch of Finch was clean, including (to his consternation) all of his nooks and crannies. But when he was finally deemed to be “presentable,” Finch had to acknowledge that he had never felt better since he had incurred his injuries.

Reese gave himself a quick once-over before stepping out to dry off and get dressed, catching up to Finch who still needed more time to put on his clothes, since he had to sit down to pull on his socks and trousers. After shaving with the electric razor provided by the hotel, they were ready to saunter up to the restaurant.

“Is the reservation there under ‘Harold Smith,’ too?” Reese asked while they waited for the elevator.

“Yes.”

“Should our cover be the same? Partners celebrating our nine-year anniversary?”

“Ah… Perhaps we should choose something… less…”

“Gay?”

“Flamboyant. Something a little more discreet would be preferable.”

“So then,” Reese smiled as they entered the elevator, “we should go back to our original cover.”

“Which cover do you mean?”

“You’re a married man having an affair with me, here in the big city so you won’t get noticed. You’re obscenely rich, possibly even a powerful politician.”

“I think just a rich businessman will do.”

“Well, if you insist, Harold,” Reese sighed, his tone somewhat lilting but not as obviously gay as before. “But you must call me ‘John’ or someone might find out who I really am.”

“And that would be?”

“A big secret,” Reese told him, his eyes glittering. The elevator doors opened and they stepped out into the reception area of the restaurant.

“Smith, party of two,” Finch told the maître d’.

“Of course,” the gentleman responded, checking his ledger. “Pardon me, sir,” he said in a lower voice, addressing Reese, “but if you would be so kind, we do offer a selection of ties for our guests who might have come… unprepared.”

“I’m very glad that you do,” Reese replied graciously. “Harold said your establishment was ‘nice,’ but he didn’t say how nice.”

“Oh! Oh, I do apologize,” Finch stammered. “It didn’t even occur to me…”

“Don’t worry, Harold,” Reese smiled, a seductive undertone in his words. “Go ahead and order something for me while I… check out their selection.”

“Ah… What would you like?” Finch asked in bewilderment.

“Surprise me,” Reese answered over his shoulder before being led to the cloakroom by an attendant.

“Sir, if you would follow me,” the maître d’ said without missing a beat, even though he had caught the subtle innuendo in Reese’s inflection.

“Ah… Of course.”

After being seated by a window with a sparkling view of the city, Finch mulled over the wine menu. Somehow, he knew that he would want to be well inebriated before the night was over.

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2 Comments

  1. “Finch’s blush deepened, but he only replied, iI’m sure I won’t be for long… I have a feeling you’ll be… divesting me of such restraints… in rather short order.i”

    I think I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself if I saw Finch blusinh. It would be so damn cute ^^

    Reply

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