Melle: Who else has tatts that could be fun with Kwirklet?
rsadelle: Eminem. *g*
Melle: Kirk/Eminem? Oh, I like.
Melle: But I'd like to see Em/James.
Melle: For some reason.
rsadelle: The struggle over who's going to be in control. I have trouble seeing either one bottoming to the other. I can see James bottoming, but not to someone he doesn't know.
Melle: And Eminem in full Slim Shady persona will try every trick in the book to make James submit.
rsadelle: I don't think James is going to like that. He'll swear and say something like, "Just put your ass in the air for me, fucker."
Melle: Or bend him over the table, yank his pants down [*g*] and bugger him senseless.
rsadelle: I think Eminem would fight back, though, no matter how much he wants James.
Melle: Oooh, angst possibilities!
Melle: 'Cause you know that no matter how hard he struggles, Em's not gonna beat James.
rsadelle: Of course not, but he's not a slut, so he's not going to just open up for James.
Melle: So James sortofrapes him. Cue angst.
So Em leaves hurt and humiliated, but can't stay away and comes back to James and asks what the fuck is going on and why did he do that.
James just shrugs: "I dunno."
Em doesn't know what to do about that, so he retreats into anger. "What do you mean you don't know? Fucker! Fucking fag!"
James hauls him up and goes "Who're you calling a fag, you little dipshit? You were the one with my dick up your ass. And you enjoyed it!"
And Em really doesn't know what to do with that because it's so completely true. And James holding him up is making him want so much, making him want to get fucked again, making him want James to push him down and make him suck him. But he can't admit that, so he denies.
James smirks: "Sure you didn't. Just like you're not enjoying this now," and puts his hand on Em's groin. Em tries to arch away, but he can't because James is kneading him gently and still holding him so close and so forcefully. Em has a moment to wonder how the hell James got so good at this and then James is kissing him just as hard as he's being held, and then James gentles and Em can't believe how good that feels, too. He wraps his arms around James and James grins because Em's giving into this.
So he pushes a bit harder and steers Em toward the couch and teases his fingers under the edge of Em's shirt. That touch of skin makes Em want it so much more. He groans and arches up into James, and James knows he's won, knows he's going to fuck Em again and again and again
And he purrs, "Oh, yes," into Em's ear.
Em echoes, "Yes," and then Em knows James has won, but he won't admit how much he wants it, not out loud, he won't, he won't, he won't.
But it's so easy to moan when James's fingers find his nipple and James's fingers tease him out of his shirt. James's shirt is behind him somewhere, out of his way, and he can touch James now, can pet his skin and twist his nipples. And before he knows what he's doing, he's licking James's nipples and James is moaning. It makes him feel powerful, but then James is pushing him farther down, unzipping his pants, and Em has a moment of panic, but there's nothing he can do because James is pushing him down and down and down.
He's on his knees now and James is in his mouth, James is fucking his mouth, and it's everything he's never admitted he wants. And soon, all too soon, James is coming and it almost makes Em want to cry, but he doesn't have time for that because James hauls him up and undoes his pants and shoves them down, boxers and all. And then James pushes him back onto the couch and slides his fingers along Em's skin.
"You're such a good little cocksucker."
Em tries to push himself up, push himself away, but he can't. James puts his hand in the center of Em's chest and holds him there.
James's voice is soft and sinister in his ear. "You're just a slut. That's your secret. You just want someone to use you. Well, I'm that someone."
Em's breath speeds up, he's panicking, he has to get out of there, away from the voice, but James sees that and nibbles at his earlobe.
Em struggles and James resorts to simply lying on top of him, holding him down with his weight, and then Em can feel that James is hard again, and that he's still hard, has stayed hard even through the panic.
"I'm going to fuck you." And the bald statement is too much, too much of what scares him, too much of what he wants, too much of *James*, but he lets James's fingers soothe him, lets James's lips and teeth at his neck convince him. James doesn't have to turn him over, because he's so far gone. He does it on his own.
James has the lube ready; he wants it rough, but he doesn't want to hurt Em the way he did the last time. So when Em feels two fingers shove into him, they're slippery enough not to hurt. Much. And James thrusts them in twice, roughly, and then they're gone. And he lets Em shiver there for a moment, makes him wait for it, lets the anticipation build, waits until he can no longer keep away from the ass in front of him, waits until Em lets out a breathy sound that might have been, on another man, a plea. Then he enters Em in one long thrust that he knows has to hurt.
Em's head snaps back and his rapid breathing is back. He can't deal with this, can't deal with how much he wants this, how close he is to coming. James pulls out and slams back in. James's cock anchors him to what's happening, keeps him from drifting fully into panic or lashing out in surprised rage.
James plays with Em's skin, pinching, twisting, licking, stroking, but he leaves Em's cock untouched. That only makes Em hotter and harder, makes him want to come so badly, makes him afraid James will never let him. James keeps thrusting into him, and it's so rough, it's so good, it's what he wants, but he still can't face that truth about himself, so he just lets James fuck him. And James fucks him and fucks him and fucks him, and he thinks it'll never end and that's so scary and so good. And then James touches his cock--doesn't even stroke him--just touches, puts two fingers on him. And Em screams and convulses, because it hurts and it's so incredibly good and James is such a presence, even with just two fingers, and he dimly feels James coming too.
He tries to collapse onto the couch but James's hands, one on his chest, one on his cock, and James's cock hold him up. James strokes his cock now and the sensation is too much for him. He flinches. James doesn't stop. Strokes him and strokes him until he's shaking so hard he thinks he'll fall apart.
James chuckles in his ear. "I knew you were a slut. Now you're my slut." And finally James lets him go, but that's just more pain because the couch is so rough, rougher even than James's fingers. He twists away from it. His movement forces James's cock out of him and that burns and then sparks as it triggers that spot he never knew existed. He ends up on his back with James on top of him, pressing him into the couch again. He can see James's self-satisfied smirk. He's so tired.
"Get off of me fucker," Em says, but it's half-hearted. James moves anyway, lets Em gather up his clothes, watches as Em rearms himself against what just happened.
"You know where to find me," James says when Em is almost to the door.
Em's voice barely even shakes as he says, "It's not going to happen again."
James just smiles as Em walks out the door. He stretches against the couch and thinks to himself that it was an afternoon well spent. He can't wait for the next one.