Shorted Out

by Aouda Fogg

Disclaimer: Not mine <sigh> Alliance's <sigh> No infringement or violation intended.

Author's Notes: So, this is my first shot at first person smut <g> Any comments and/or suggestions are always appreciated <wg>
Thank you to C and Key for the betaing! (May 27, 2002)
This is for Bast, who kind of asked for something for when she came back <g>

Story Notes:


Jeezus! That's right off the scale of my lust-o-meter.

He may have just shorted the damned thing out.

I'm now so hard the zipper pattern may be permanently imprinted into my dick.

And I can't do a thing about it.

Which he knows damned well.

There are times when I wonder if I haven't created a monster; I've gotten him to loosen up, but the new, happier, freer Ben is also an Evil Ben, and Evil Ben loves to drive me right up the wall and down the other side. He's a master of torquing me up when I can't launch myself at him and have at it. Don't let the innocent act fool you - there's a seriously horny guy in there. Thank god. He's also a tease. Of course, he always delivers, so it doesn't really count, but he really gets off on that whole delayed gratification thing.

Bastard.

I always enjoy it in the end, but the getting there? Sometimes I don't think I'm going to make it.

Right now is one of those times.

School's out, it's a warm, bright Saturday, and we've got the whole herd of Vecchio munchkins - and a couple of their friends - out at the park a couple streets over from Ma's. We both like playing uncle, and since their "real" Uncle Ray is down splashing in orange juice or something in the Sunshine State, we get to do it a lot. We've already hit the swings, monkey bars, and slide, and after a long Frisbee game - Dief led the kids to victory against Ben and I - and the humongous lunch Ma packed - had to be half the fridge and maybe a third of the pantry - it's time for ice cream.

The guy in the cart had a great selection, and he had just a bell, not that ice cream truck soundtrack that gets real old after the second time around, so it's all good. A couple of the kids went for one of those fluorescent green and purple things, but I went traditional: Creamsicle. Nothing like one of those on a hot, sunny afternoon, the sweet orange stuff making your lips sticky. Greatness.

Then Ben blew my mind and got something for himself. Big Stick. The mountie got himself a Big Stick!

He met my eyes just once - as he was unwrapping it - but he hasn't looked back since. Oh, yeah, he knows EXACTLY what he's doing.

First he licked just around the tip. Short, little licks. Then he took longer, slower laps from, like, the middle up. Every once in a while, he's been licking around the top in a quick swirl.

Nope, now he's back to little licks along the top couple inches.

Good thing the kids are old enough to eat their stuff by themselves and are happy just sprawling all over the blankets Ben was smart enough to pack 'cuz I'm no help at all at this point. He's got me harder than that Big Stick in his hand, but a whole, whole lot hotter.

Oh, Jeezus!

He just sucked the first couple inches in he mouth. Back out, in, back out, in. Sucking his checks in and hollowing them out. I take a quick, shuddering breath. Think he heard it - I swear that's a grin lurking around the edges of the popsicle now that it's back in his mouth.

One of the kids just asked him a question. He takes the thing out of his mouth and answers. I don't know whether to watch the glistening Big Stick and the places he's melted it, or his lips, which are now a pinky red that draws attention to their slight puffiness.

I switch back and forth, getting harder by the second.

He must have answered Marco's question - no idea what it was - because the popsicle is back in his mouth. Deeper than before; now shallower. How in the hell can he make something as innocent as a popsicle so goddamned hot?

Fuck!

He's going to drive me out of my mind or make me come in my shorts. Maybe both.

He's sucking on it and turning it in his mouth. Around and around and around. It's making me dizzy. Or maybe it's just that every drop of blood in my body is in my cock.

The sucking sounds as he pulls it out of his mouth makes me groan. So does the fact that that he's melted enough of it to make it look like it's got a head. I must've done something good lately because all the kids are up tossing a ball around and it's just Ben and I on the blankets. Well, Ben, me, and my dick.

"I'm sorry, Ray, did you say something?"

He's meeting my eyes for the first time in a long time. I can see them laughing back at me behind the innocent act he's got going. Evil Ben.

I struggle to remember how to talk, but somehow I pull it off. "Nah, just making a mental list."

"How efficient of you." He takes a quick lick of the "head" of his Big Stick. I try to relax every single muscle that just tensed up. Doesn't really work.

"I like to use my time wisely."

"I commend you, Ray."

"Wanna heard the list?" I'm real proud of the fact that these sentences actually make sense.

"If you'd care to share it with me."

"Sure, buddy, I'll share. Got no problem with sharing. I like to share. I've got some things to share with you once we get home. First, I'm going to make sure you have all that sticky stuff from your popsicle off your face."

"That's very noble of you, Ray."

"With my tongue."

"Ah."

He takes another long, languid lick of what's left of the Big Stick and then rubs it back and forth across his lips. I work on not launching myself at him. It's a very, very close thing.

"Then I'm going to push you up against the wall." I lean over and get closer to him, getting into his personal space, pushing back a little.He doesn't move away."Maybe the wall right next to the door." I consider that. "Nah, the wall right between the bookcases so that you have something to hold onto while I look around for a Big Stick of my own. Then I'm going to take that Big Stick and taste it. Run my tongue up and down it, work my way all the way from the tip to the base. See how much of it I can fit in my mouth. See how many licks it'll take to make it melt. You know, stuff like that."

He's still got the popsicle stick in his hand, but I've managed to distract him enough that the Big Stick has been melting, dripping down his hand in red and orange and pink little lines. Damn, I'm good.

Looking down at the frozen treat in his hand like he's never seen it before, he tosses it into the trash bag we brought with us and brings his hand up to his mouth. Raising his eyes back up to mine, he slowly licks the sticky drips and streaks off the skin.

All I can do is sit on the blanket and gasp and struggle to breathe.

We stare at each other for several long minutes, just feeling it flow between us, this thing we have, breathing it in, wanting each other. Want, need, desire, love, us. It's incredibly good, incredibly real. Suddenly, he stands up, claps his hands, and calls the kids over, telling them it's time to go home. They don't complain too much, which means we must've tired them out, and with their help folding and stacking and putting away, we're ready in no time. I wasn't much help. I'm shaking too hard. Still, having to focus on something else is good - walking two blocks as hard as I was a couple minutes ago would have been bad.

I think Ma knows something is up, but she doesn't say anything as we don't linger after saying goodbye to all the kids. Great woman. I'll have to send her flowers or something.

The thought fades as I focus on not burning rubber as I pull the GTO away from the curb.

Ben's voice is a quiet blend of lust and contentment. Evil mountie again - he knows what that tone does to me. "That was a very pleasant afternoon, Ray, and I quite enjoyed my Big Stick."

"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy mine!" I shoot back.

For a second I think he's going to grab me, but he holds on and runs his hands up and down his thighs instead. We don't talk again until we've got our apartment door shut and locked. I'm in such a hurry, Dief barely makes it through in time. I'll apologize later. When I have my brain back.

I've got Ben between the bookcases in no time and am sucking on his lips, searching for traces of red, sticky sweetness.

"You taste like summer, Ben." He groans back against my mouth. "Can't believe you did that!" I gasp out between licks and kisses. "Can't believe you got me that hot with a goddamned popsicle. In front of the kids when I couldn't do shit! Sneaky, evil mountie. You might want to hold on, Ben, cuz I think I've found my Big Stick." Don't know if it's my words or my hand draped over his fly, but whatever the cause, Ben's groaning deep. Love that sound, work on getting him to do it more.

I slide down his body and have his dick out in seconds. Leave his shorts on. Looks so hot. "Well, lookee here," I breathe against him, letting my cheek slide along the shaft. "It sure is big, alright. And it looks pretty stick-like to me." The way he gasps my name is beautiful. As beautiful as his cock and the way his knuckles are white from clenching the bookcases.

I start out the same way he did - little licks along the tip, working my way down to about halfway. By now he's leaking and I lap it all up, swirling my tongue, lingering to make sure I've got it all. "Hmmm, tastes good, but not really like a Big Stick, buddy. Better investigate further."

Not giving him any other warning, I take him as deep as I can into my mouth, sucking and swallowing, making up the difference with my hand on the base of the shaft and squeezing in rhythm with the suction.

The sounds he's making are turning me on as much as the feel of his dick in my mouth, the taste of him, the scent of him. Ben's always a full body experience. Sucking hard, I run a finger from my free hand right at the spot where his balls and cock come together. And there he is, coming in my mouth, groaning my name, pounding one of his fists against the wall. Thank god it's an interior wall. I'm so not in the mood to deal with neighbors at this precise instant.

I can tell he's coming back because he's petting my head, running his fingers through my hair as I rest my head against his belly and press kisses against his skin.

"Ray." His voice sounds hoarse and I realize he knees are shaking pretty good, so I guide him down against the floor. He leans up and captures my mouth and we kiss.

Must've been for a while, because before I know it, I'm pushed back against the floor covered in mountie. Not that I'm complaining. Kicking off his shorts, he gets mine unbuttoned and off me. I think they land on the top shelf of the bookcase. Then he's back, pressing me against the floor, sliding and thrusting until my cock is caught between his thighs. The wet, hot heat of our sweaty bodies against each other makes just the right friction, and the rough hair on his legs pushes me even higher. He tightens his legs rhythmically, clenching and squeezing me hard and fast while kissing and licking his way all over my neck and chest. I just hold on, burying my fingers in his hair. Then I'm coming, shooting hard against his skin, writhing underneath him, our groans melding together until they sound like one.

He feels so good against me, weighing me down, that we lie there for a while, lingering. After a while, we get up, crawl into bed, and cuddle under the sheet. Too hot for anything heavier. Lying there, sticky and warm and sated beyond belief, I say a quick thanks for summer and for Evil Ben before sliding into sleep.


End Shorted Out by Aouda Fogg: aoudafogg@yahoo.com

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