Mix and Match Challenge: A Man in Uniform
Jun. 5th, 2005 10:10 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
chesamus.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
ds_flashfiction883 words which hit me last night during a thunderstorm. It was like the scene changed everytime the lightening flashed and I thought, “Well, why not?” So I did...
A Man in Uniform
Every time Ray pushed inside me, I could feel my knees slide a bit against the oak flooring. The friction created by my wool jodhpurs would leave them abraded. It was worth it though - that raw feeling I carried for the next few days would serve as a reminder of how much I was wanted.
Ray's hands latched onto my Sam Browne. “God, Fraser, you feel so good, so tight.” He withdrew slowly, then glided back in place with a smooth graceful twist of his hips.
“Ray, Ray, faster!” I wanted to move with him, but he held me fast by the leather strapping.
“You want it faster, mountie? Make me!”
I shuddered, and tried to rock into him, but I couldn’t move. The strangle hold created by his hand wrapped around the leather and the lanyard tangled in it limited my movements severely. It was rare for Ray to take such a dominant role in our lovemaking, but sometimes, particularly after as stressful a day as today, when events spiraled out of control, he pounced as though he had no choice.
The temperature was rising, the uniform was constricting, and I realized that Ray never acted this way when I wasn’t in uniform.
It was difficult to think. His free hand was rubbing my penis, and the slow rocking motion caused my scrotum to rub ever so slightly against the soft wool of my pants, lowered only far enough to allow Ray access.
A thought crept in ever so faintly - was Ray fucking me or the uniform?
********
He started to change his rhythm, clenching at the tie at my throat. The designer silk he gave me at Christmas would be crumpled beyond repair, the linen shirt would be washed out by hand, and I’d have to take the suit to someone other than my regular cleaner. The inevitable staining when we came would be too embarrassing to explain to Mrs. Delmonico.
I could only kneel there and try to regulate my breathing. Something about Ray in this primal state made me want to scream out my pleasure and submerge myself in the lust that had overtaken him. And yet, knowing he had no control at all except for the hold he had on me, I was forced to restrain myself. He needed this outlet, needed to know that he was still Ray Kowalski and that I was Benton Fraser, no matter how long the federal authorities needed me to pretend otherwise.
Ray slammed into me - hard - and my moistened palms almost lost their purchase on Armando Langostini’s marble floor...
********
“Mine, mine! Ben, need you...” Ray pulled at my shoulder holster. I thought faintly about the dangers of making love while still carrying my service revolver, but I couldn’t help myself. Seeing him again after those long years of separation made me powerless against his need.
Barely inside the door of my small apartment, nothing uncovered except for what was strictly necessary, I didn’t think about the precinct, about his past, about the implications of allowing a convicted felon to stay with me, to love me. I thought only of what it felt like to have him buried deep inside me, of being touched again by the only man I had ever loved. I didn’t know if he had changed, or if I had changed - and I didn’t care.
All I wanted was the weight of him on my back, the brush of his skin on my thighs, the warmth of his breath against my ear as he whispered his broken vows in counterpoint to my harsh panting...
********
He brushed the long red strands aside and tongued my ear. It should have shamed me, allowing him to make love to me while still in the guise of Miss Fraser, but as his rough hands snagged their way across the tops of my stocking, I could only moan, and pray I would not humiliate myself by climaxing before he did.
Ray unbuttoned just enough of my blouse to slide his hands under my bra. He pinched my nipples, sensitive after the constant stimulation of the constricting disguise, and pulled me free of the silk panties. I’d lost a shoe in the quick tumble to the floor, the other one was kicked aside sometime during the subsequent activities. I wanted to pull him in closer, to push him away until I could become myself again...
********
“Damn, oh God, Fraser!” I couldn’t feel more without dying. We’d come so close this time, last time, next time. And I realized it had nothing to do with the uniform, with the job. It had everything to do with life; our lives together.
Ray finally let go of the Sam Browne. It was time. I reared back, slamming hard into him. He pounded back. I moaned, he wailed. I sank down on one elbow, reached back to grab his hair.
“Now, Ray, now!”
He obeyed, and pulled hard. I filled his hand to overflowing. He bit down on my neck, collapsed on my back as the shudders coursed through him.
A soft barely there whisper: “Love you, Ben.”
”Love you, Ben..."
”Love you, Ben..."
”Love you, Ben..."
“I love you, Ray.”
A Man in Uniform
Every time Ray pushed inside me, I could feel my knees slide a bit against the oak flooring. The friction created by my wool jodhpurs would leave them abraded. It was worth it though - that raw feeling I carried for the next few days would serve as a reminder of how much I was wanted.
Ray's hands latched onto my Sam Browne. “God, Fraser, you feel so good, so tight.” He withdrew slowly, then glided back in place with a smooth graceful twist of his hips.
“Ray, Ray, faster!” I wanted to move with him, but he held me fast by the leather strapping.
“You want it faster, mountie? Make me!”
I shuddered, and tried to rock into him, but I couldn’t move. The strangle hold created by his hand wrapped around the leather and the lanyard tangled in it limited my movements severely. It was rare for Ray to take such a dominant role in our lovemaking, but sometimes, particularly after as stressful a day as today, when events spiraled out of control, he pounced as though he had no choice.
The temperature was rising, the uniform was constricting, and I realized that Ray never acted this way when I wasn’t in uniform.
It was difficult to think. His free hand was rubbing my penis, and the slow rocking motion caused my scrotum to rub ever so slightly against the soft wool of my pants, lowered only far enough to allow Ray access.
A thought crept in ever so faintly - was Ray fucking me or the uniform?
********
He started to change his rhythm, clenching at the tie at my throat. The designer silk he gave me at Christmas would be crumpled beyond repair, the linen shirt would be washed out by hand, and I’d have to take the suit to someone other than my regular cleaner. The inevitable staining when we came would be too embarrassing to explain to Mrs. Delmonico.
I could only kneel there and try to regulate my breathing. Something about Ray in this primal state made me want to scream out my pleasure and submerge myself in the lust that had overtaken him. And yet, knowing he had no control at all except for the hold he had on me, I was forced to restrain myself. He needed this outlet, needed to know that he was still Ray Kowalski and that I was Benton Fraser, no matter how long the federal authorities needed me to pretend otherwise.
Ray slammed into me - hard - and my moistened palms almost lost their purchase on Armando Langostini’s marble floor...
********
“Mine, mine! Ben, need you...” Ray pulled at my shoulder holster. I thought faintly about the dangers of making love while still carrying my service revolver, but I couldn’t help myself. Seeing him again after those long years of separation made me powerless against his need.
Barely inside the door of my small apartment, nothing uncovered except for what was strictly necessary, I didn’t think about the precinct, about his past, about the implications of allowing a convicted felon to stay with me, to love me. I thought only of what it felt like to have him buried deep inside me, of being touched again by the only man I had ever loved. I didn’t know if he had changed, or if I had changed - and I didn’t care.
All I wanted was the weight of him on my back, the brush of his skin on my thighs, the warmth of his breath against my ear as he whispered his broken vows in counterpoint to my harsh panting...
********
He brushed the long red strands aside and tongued my ear. It should have shamed me, allowing him to make love to me while still in the guise of Miss Fraser, but as his rough hands snagged their way across the tops of my stocking, I could only moan, and pray I would not humiliate myself by climaxing before he did.
Ray unbuttoned just enough of my blouse to slide his hands under my bra. He pinched my nipples, sensitive after the constant stimulation of the constricting disguise, and pulled me free of the silk panties. I’d lost a shoe in the quick tumble to the floor, the other one was kicked aside sometime during the subsequent activities. I wanted to pull him in closer, to push him away until I could become myself again...
********
“Damn, oh God, Fraser!” I couldn’t feel more without dying. We’d come so close this time, last time, next time. And I realized it had nothing to do with the uniform, with the job. It had everything to do with life; our lives together.
Ray finally let go of the Sam Browne. It was time. I reared back, slamming hard into him. He pounded back. I moaned, he wailed. I sank down on one elbow, reached back to grab his hair.
“Now, Ray, now!”
He obeyed, and pulled hard. I filled his hand to overflowing. He bit down on my neck, collapsed on my back as the shudders coursed through him.
A soft barely there whisper: “Love you, Ben.”
”Love you, Ben..."
”Love you, Ben..."
”Love you, Ben..."
“I love you, Ray.”
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