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Sunrise

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Sleeping with John comes with few perks. For one, you’re guaranteed to be groped in some way, should you so choose. There is a large chance of waking up with his mouth doing pleasant things to various parts of your body in his determination to get you off as quickly as possible. Sleepy, morning orgasms aside however, there are negatives. One in particular that you’ve been privy to several times, and rouses you from a dead sleep in the middle of the night.

Next to you, John is locked in a nightmare, grumbling and swearing under his breath. It starts of quiet: barely a hushed whimper and a slight twitch. Considering everything he’s been though, you’re not surprised he’s plagued by nightmares, so your reaction is fairly tame. He doesn’t like to talk about his dreams, and you know drawing attention to it will only make him evasive. Therefore, you ignore him, rolling over and readjusting the blankets so you can fall back to sleep.This proves difficult to do, as the second you start to drift off, John lets out a yell and severe jerk.  You bolt upright, turning to face him again, only to find that he’s still dreaming, eyes shut tight and jaw clenched.

“John,” you call, coughing slightly as the air catches in your dry throat. “John, wake up.” Placing a hand on his shoulder only makes him thrash, caught in the throes of whatever nightmare is plaguing him this week. After several more failed attempts to wake him, you shove the blankets aside and lean over his body, thinking wildly. Your decision is quick and terribly risky, but regardless, it’s worth a shot.  

The second John turns his face away, you bend down a press a firm kiss on the spot just below his ear, allowing your tongue to briefly snake out and swipe at the damp skin. John shudders, and the next scream dies in his throat. Encouraged, you gently cup his chin, holding him steady as you place a smattering of kisses around that spot. John has taught you many things over the years, one important lesson being that there’s only one way to counter bad dreams: pleasure in reality. With a sly smile, you continue your rain of kisses down his neck, then back up, turning his face toward yours so you can probably capture his lips.

He’s still somewhat asleep, and doesn’t react right away, but even still you continue to kiss him with as much gusto as you can manage in the middle of the night. It doesn’t take long for him to moan softly, and then he’s kissing you back, mouth moving clumsily with yours. Feeling the tension dissipate, you draw back from the kiss, nose brushing his.

When he speaks, his voice is deliciously hoarse “Mmm, w’as goin’ on, love? Need’a midnight snack?” You can’t tell if he’s playing off the nightmare or if it left him the second he woke. It doesn’t matter either way and you go along with it.

“Always,” you reply smoothly before slipping your tongue past his lips. He tastes of sleep, and you’re sure you do too, but neither of you seem to mind as you lose yourselves in each other. John’s hands run up your back but you shrug them away, pinning them to his sides. “Just let me take care of you, Johnny.”

Clouds have blocked the moonlight, casting the room in shadows. It’s too dark for you to make out anything visually, but there’s not mistaking the hitch in John’s breathing and his heavy swallow. “Fine by me, love,” he says, somewhat breathless.

John is breathtaking to look at, and you have spent hours mapping every scar and mark. Despite the lack of visuals, the urge to re-explore is strong, so you decide to give in. As you usually do when it comes to John. Moving down his chin, you stop briefly to feast on his throat again, smirking as his body twitches underneath yours. Lowering yourself down, you lay skin to skin, moaning at the heat radiating off of him.

As his legs wrap around yours, drawing you in, your kisses follow his collarbone, the ridges more prominent than they have been before. He must be losing weight; you make a mental note to make sure he’s actually eating. Attention back on the task at hand, you continue your kisses downward, focusing on his chest and raining kisses across the expansion of scarred flesh. His nipple is soft when you swipe your tongue across it, though after a few seconds it stiffens in the familiar heat of your mouth. It’s not the only thing. Against your thigh, John’s cock stirs, pulsing several times before it begins to thicken at your attention. It spurs on your own arousal, and soon your cock is hardening along his, making you gently grind down.

John’s hips shoot up, and you allow the grinding until you’re ready to move on.. After thoroughly exploring both nipples, you drag your lips down his ribs, earning a twitch and a muffled chuckle. Any other night you’d tease him, but considering the nightmare seemed like a particularly bad one, you move away from his ticklish spot. Your hands haven’t been stationary this whole time. While your mouth delivers kiss after kiss, you make sure to run your hands across every inch of John’s skin you can reach. Up his arms, across his shoulders, down his sides, until finally they settle on his hips. Fingers dig into your scalp as they drag through your hair, subtly urging you to go further down.

You get the hint of course, but you’re not quite done worshipping John just yet. Firm, muscled thighs are hot under your lips, and you can feel a drop of precome spread across your own chest as his cock nudges you persistently. By now you’ve slid off him and onto the bed, hunched over John at an angle that is murder on your back, but you push through it. Your need to comfort your lover is more important than your own. He spreads his legs in silent anticipation, and you give into the urge to tease, sucking hard on the soft skin of his inner thigh. John chuckles deeply, settling himself against the pillows as if he’s getting comfortable. You release the tender skin, before letting your lips brush his cock. However, when you pull away and kiss the inside of his knee, John huffs.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, mate,” he scolds, all trace of sleep gone and replaced by unbashful neediness. “You could kill a bloke like that!”

“Mmmm, like what?” you ask, sitting back on your knees and forcing John’s hands out of your hair. You lift his leg slightly so you can kiss his calf.

“You know bloody well what I mean!” John accuses, thrusting into the air in a futile attempt to bring you back your attention to where he wants you the most.

You sit further back, finally glancing at his face long enough to study his expression. Feeble moonlight shines through the window now, giving you some light to see by. John’s hair is a mess, falling into his hood, eager eyes. You watch his tongue swipe at his dry lips and you resist giving into him, determined to finish the job you started. Shifting further down on the bed, you kiss his calf again, moving lower and lower down his leg until your lips brush his ankle. Gingerly, you lavish his foot with kisses and swipes of your tongue, while John squirms and pants beneath you, one hand twisting the sheets while the other closes around his sack. He’s always so impatient, you can’t help think affectionately as he starts to jerk himself off with languid strokes.  

Of course, he’s not the only one. You can’t help but touch yourself at the erotic display, sucking his toes into your mouth as you briefly close your fist around your cock. You try to match John’s pacing, no matter how tempting it is to move faster. It doesn’t take long for the feelings to become all too much; you’re done teasing now. Letting John’s foot drop to the bed, you lunge forward, smashing your mouth against John’s in a brutal kiss. His free hand cups the back of your head, holding you firmly in place so his tongue can collide with yours.

You pry his hand away from his length, breaking the kiss so you can drop down the bed again. This time, you wrap your lips around his cock, sucking softly. John exclamation of excitement dissolves into a throaty hiss as he thrusts up into the heat enveloping his arousal. He’s hard. Harder than you realized and you’re too far gone to anticipate the thrust, leading to a brief gagging moment before you correct yourself.

John’s hard and smooth against your tongue, the heady taste of him invading your senses. Pressing your weight against his legs, you trap him to keep him from thrusting so you can take him as far as you can. He jerks and twitches against you, back arching as he moans loudly.

“Yes, mate, that’s it,” he coos, teeth digging into his bottom lip. reaching for your head again. This time you let him pet you, humming with appreciation as you work your mouth up and down his swollen shaft. “Love when you suck my cock.”

You pull off him with a smirk, mumbling, “I bet you do,” before taking him in again. Seeing him undone is always thrilling. Sex is the only time he lets his cool mask slip, and as such, you’ve made it your personal mission to see this side of him as often as you possibly can. Closing your eyes, you fall into a steady rhythm, lightly easing up on John’s hips as you do. He notices, tentatively thrusting up at the same time the rough hair around his base tickles your nose. Instantly your eyes water, but you remind yourself to swallow, allowing John to slid in as far as he can go. He swears, holding your head in place, savoring the feeling before easing up and letting you take over again.

The softness of the mattress is maddening against your erection and you worm a hand underneath you so you can give yourself some relief. John calls your name in warning, body covered in a sheen of sweat as he chases the orgasm he so desperately needs.

“Almos’ there, love,” he grunts. “Gonna come in your mouth.”

Completely okay with that, you let yourself go in favor of cupping his balls, massaging them roughly as your head continues to bob up and down on his lap. When John comes, he doubles forward, hands twisting your hair as he pumps himself into your aching mouth. You don’t get a chance to swallow as John yanks you up, cups your face, and seals his mouth over yours. A sharp tongue pries your lips open and with a groan of pure satisfaction, John steals his own release from you in a frenzied kiss.

With an impatient grunt, you grab his wrist, bringing his hand to your still twitching erection. John wastes no time, wrapping a rough hand around your length and starting to jerk you off with determination. It’s your turn to twitch and moan now, lungs on fire as John refuses to stop kissing you. When he finally does, you gasp and throw your head back, allowing him to attack your throat in love bites and kisses.

“John, baby, I’m close,” you grunt, slinging your arm around his shoulders to lock him in place. His hand is merciless, and when he gives one of the tugs a rough twist, you shout.

“Come for Johnny, love,” John croaks in your ear, sinful tongue and teeth nipping at your lobe. “Wanna feel you come all over me.”

A few more tugs and then you’re reaching your own end, hot spurts of cum coating John’s hand and lap as he pumps you through your pleasure. Over sensitive and shaking, you gently squeeze his wrist to let him know he can stop. John kisses you a final time, before he draws back and lifts his hand. You watch him lick the digits clean, his eyes burning into yours in the intense way only he seems to be able to do. Damp fingers are shoved into your mouth and you suck what’s left off them, until it all becomes too much and you jerk away.

Taking the hint, John pulls you down with him and you both collapses in a tired, sweaty heap. Your chest is heaving and your heart is slamming against your rib cage, a sleepy smile slowly crawling across your face. It’s kisses away with a few nips and a flick of John’s tongue. After, he studies you, equally breathless, yet oddly quiet. He wipes his hand on the sheets before reaching up to cup the back of your neck. Pulling you close, he rests his forehead to yours, allowing your breath to mingle with his. “Thanks,” he whispers softly.

“Well, you looked so delicious, I couldn’t help myself,” you tease. John chuckles and steals a brief peck, but you don’t let him pull away, needing more. They’ll never be enough. Through the kisses, you and John manage to clean yourselves with the blanket, all while your lips remain glued to each other’s.

“What time is it?” John sleepily mumbles. Not that it really matters. Neither of you have anywhere to be. Too tired to focus anymore, he breaks away to tuck his head under your chin.

“Time for more sleep,” you say, burying your face in his hair. You run your fingers through the mused strands, content and satisfied. Silence falls over you both as your breathing eventually evens out. John drifts off first, calm and still this time. Even so, you force yourself to stay awake, stroking his hair and peppering his face with kisses until the moonlight is replaced by the oranges and yellows of sunrise, only succumbing to sleep when you’re sure John’s nightmares are gone.