Oct. 17th, 2002

rsadelle: (Default)
Now, listen up, stupid-ass morning commuters. Traffic is practically bumper-to-bumper from Cohasset to the Skyway. This means it is a bad idea to slow down to 20 miles per hour for the stopped cars that don't even seem to have been in an accident. Sure, there are cops there, and I know you don't want them to then come after you for speeding, but the speed limit on that stretch of highway is a full 60 miles per hour, and the cops aren't going to notice you unless you're going well over 70. So speed the fuck up and let me get to work!

And now the Geeksmut:

Steve came back some indeterminable time later with a candle in one hand and a plate in the other. He kept the plate above Bill's line of sight, but he put the candle on the table.

Steve knelt on the bed, careful to keep from touching Bill's body. "Were you good?"

Bill couldn't hide the adoration in his eyes. He hoped the low lighting would do it for him. "Yes."

Steve's lips curved into a smile. "Good boy." He brushed his finger against Bill's lips. "Open your mouth."

Bill's lips parted.

"Such a good boy," Steve crooned. He pressed his finger in and let Bill suck on it. When he took his finger away, he pulled Bill's mouth open. He pushed something else into it, something that was fleshy and soft.

Bill bit down, and flesh and juice flooded his mouth. Peach. It was sweet and juicy, and he welcomed the return of sensation.

The other half of the piece went into Steve's mouth. He ate it with the same look he had in the last moment before he came. He let the juice run down his fingers and wrist when he bit down on the next piece. He bent down and fed it to Bill in a kiss. Bill took in the fruit and tried to deepen the kiss, but Steve pulled back with a soft chuckle.

"Greedy, greedy," he admonished.

"Please." Bill's plea slipped out.

Steve placed a soft kiss on the edge of Bill's mouth. "Open," he commanded, and he pushed fruit and fingers between Bill's open lips.


rsadelle: (Default)
Ruth Sadelle Alderson


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