Sundays

By Lyn

Jim Ellison loved Sundays. Especially lazy Sunday mornings in July when a muted sun peeped through the skylight of the loft, the golden rays promising a day of languorous warmth. He stretched, feeling the tug of muscles that had stiffened overnight, the after effects of a long, eventually successful pursuit of a murderer through the streets of Cascade. There was a delicious ache deep in his groin, the result of a hard session of frantic lovemaking, every sense heightened and on fire from the adrenaline rush, his senses turning primal as he sought to reaffirm his bond with his Guide.

His lover moved slightly beside him and muttered something unintelligible in the dream world of sleep before shifting slightly to roll onto one side, dark russet curls tumbling luxuriantly over broad shoulders. Jim followed the stirring man, and leaned in close to deposit a soft kiss to the nape of his slumbering partner's neck. He smiled at the sigh of pleasure that puffed almost soundlessly from Blair's lips. The Sentinel sniffed delicately, dialing up his sense of smell. He scented herbal shampoo, sweat and sex, pheromones that foretold of morning arousal only now beginning to make itself known. He reached out a hand and traced a gentle finger down the ridges of vertebrae in front of him until he reached the swell of firm buttocks.

His lover arched up slightly at the touch and Jim traced a trail around Blair's ribs, a questing hand finally finding a hardening nipple. He stroked across it with his palm, enjoying the sensation of roughness against his skin, then stroked lower to dip into his lover's navel, pausing to tug gently on the slender silver hoop embedded there. That move brought a hiss of reaction, of almost waking but Jim soothed him with a soft kiss to one shoulder and his Guide relaxed into the pillow once more.

Jim snaked his hand over jutting hipbones, tracing the strong bones of the narrow pelvis remembering anchoring his hands there last night as his lover rode him to completion. Then he skated his palm along a firmly muscled thigh. Their morning workout sessions in the gym were paying off Jim decided, as the traveling hand felt along the contours of a hard calf. He massaged one foot along the instep and toes, smiling as the other foot pressed back into his hand for its share of the attention.

Leaving the best for last, he trailed his hand up again over the tight contours of a small, firm ass, one finger ghosting down the shadowed cleft between the cheeks. Jim smiled as his lover's legs pushed up, the knees bending toward the chest, granting him permission and allowing him to stroke over the tender perineum and sensitive balls then back up to tease a fingertip across the rosy pucker. Slipping his finger further in, he realized Blair was still stretched and slick from the previous evening's lavish attentions. He added a second finger as he continued to finger-fuck his lover gently for several minutes, enjoying this closeness, this intimate giving of trust, so different from the passionate, energetic loving of the night before.

A soft sigh of pleasure and a gentle thrusting back onto his fingers was Jim's undoing and he pulled his fingers out, replacing them quickly with his throbbing, drooling cock. Gripping his lover's hips, he pumped lazily at first into the welcome heat, wanting to delay the inevitable and stay forever in this exquisite present. Too soon his hunger overtook him and his actions sped up, one hand snaking around to wrap around Blair's equally hard shaft. He felt his cock brush over his lover's prostate several times, felt him stiffen, then shudder and allowed the slick warmth that gushed over his hand to smooth the way as he stroked Blair to completion. Then the convulsing channel surrounding his cock caused his own orgasm to overwhelm him in a blinding rush of scent and sensation, sight and sound.

Jim rolled to his back, bringing his Guide to nestle against him. He reached up and carded his fingers through Blair's silky curls, the sensation causing his cock to stir again, vaguely interested.

"It's your turn to cook breakfast," his lover whispered against his chest and Jim laughed in delight and pressed a kiss to the top of Blair's head. Jim Ellison loved Sundays and Blair Sandburg.

FIN