"Blue Notes"
Part I
By anonymous smut-lover
for mc - a horny devoted fan
Micky. Naked. Wet...droplets of fresh water clinging to every inch of exposed flesh, dripping a small pool onto the floor of his dressing room bath. Standing there, straight from his shower, wearing nothing but a smile. He reaches for his white terry robe to dry off.
It had been a hard day on the set with too many scenes to shoot in such short time, but it was Friday afternoon, and the long week was finally at an end. What will he do this weekend, and who will he do it with? he considered as he covered his head with a towel to dry his wild curls.
He thought he heard a noise in the other room, but before he could lift his head from under cover to see who was there, he felt a presence at his back. He recognized the feel of the hands that moved around his arms to embrace him from behind. He lifted his head to rest on that familiar shoulder and the hands reached up to remove the towel and reveal his smiling face underneath. Then the hands reached back down to slide into his white robe, and turned his body around to face his own. Mike tilted his head, and leaned down to give the smiling lips a kiss, and didn't stop until he forced a sigh from them.
Micky's eyes remained shut. He didn't need to see the person who belonged to those hands under his robe. It was so much better to feel him, and smell his scent without having to look into those dark, cold eyes. He reached up to put his arms around the taller man's shoulders and rested his still damp head there.
"Hey, you're getting my shirt wet." Mike scolded.
Micky grinned, and brushed off the water stain with his hand as if that would do any good. He kissed the spot, and then made his way up Mike's neck, as Mike opened his robe fully to get his arms around naked flesh. Mike pulled him away and led him to the other room, but Micky didn't want to stop. He continued his enthusiastic affections on Mike while walking backwards to where Mike was taking him. Mike held him again, and set him down on the thick, shag, carpeted floor, and some big soft pillows.
Micky looked up from where he was lying on his back, his face glowing with smiles. "How much time do we have?" he asked.
"Not a lot." Mike answered as he slid his hands down Micky's body trying
once again to force a moan from his lips, but he was disappointed when he only
aroused a heavy exhale. Then Micky reached down to unbuckle Mike's belt,
but Mike stopped him before he could complete the task.
"What's wrong?" Micky asked.
"Nothin' I just don't feel like that right now." he answered.
"Why not?"
"I don't have time for that."
"Well, then what did you come here for?"
"I wanted to see you."
"Don't tease me, Mike."
"I'm not teasing. I just wanna watch you."
He was lying. There was nothing he would rather do than make love right
now, but he couldn't afford to get too sweaty - had to get home to the wife.
But he didn't want to upset the moment, or Micky, so he'd wait to tell the truth.
He stared down into Micky's face while he let his free hand open that robe again and move down his body until he found what he was searching for. Micky finally let out that moan Mike had been expecting, and he closed his eyes to get away from Mike's cold stare. It wasn't unusual, he thought, Mike always loved to do this, it was like a game to him. He would try to drive Micky crazy with pleasure just so he could watch the look on his face, and listen to the moans that would escape him. But it was Micky's own fault for being so animated and passionate during sex, and Mike found it wonderfully irresistible, almost better than sex itself.
He let his hand work between Micky's legs while waiting for all the right responses:
First, the knees bend to the ceiling, then a moan, and then the heavy breathing
- all right on schedule. You'd think he'd never had a simple hand-job
before with the way he was acting, but Mike's hand-jobs were never simple.
Great thought and care went into every move Mike made. He would study
Micky's reactions, to know just when to change those moves to produce the ultimate
moan from his lips. That was always Mike's goal, and just now Mike could tell
by the way Micky was arching his back that he was getting close, so he held
back a little to keep him going. Mike could read the frustration on Micky's
face, and it made him smile to know he had this power over him. Micky
was just too easy - he simply had no self-control. He became Mike's helpless
slave during these moments and there was nothing he could do to stop it, not
that he wanted to.
Mike was still concentrating on Micky's face when Micky desperately whispered
Mike's name in surrender through a heavy breath. Mike decided to grant
him mercy and finally allow him to have his orgasm as he watched for the signs
on his face.
Micky remained lying on the floor, helpless under Mike and his control. He squeezed his eyes tight, and turned his head to the side, and Mike knew what was coming when he finally saw that quiver on Micky's lips. He drew a deep, long breath and then let out a final cry that made Mike very happy, and with both of them now satisfied to reach their goals, Mike leaned down to kiss him.
Micky was still overwhelmed with the sensations, and out of breath from the work,
but he couldn't resist the kisses Mike offered him, so he strained his long
neck gracefully to reach up and return them. Mike pulled away to look
at his face again, and Micky set his head back onto the carpet, and smiled.
Mike brushed a wet curl out of his eye, and turned around to sit back onto a
pillow. Micky followed him to rest his head on Mike's chest, and wrap
his arms around his body. He could have stayed that way all night, if
only Mike would allow it, but Mike wasn't happy with the position of Micky's
now sweat soaked body - he was getting his shirt wet again, and he had to get
home. His wife would sniff out that scent as quick as a bloodhound, and
Mike would have no explanation.
"Mick, I gotta go." Mike said.
"No." Micky said plainly, as he tightened his embrace.
"Mick, I told you I didn't have a lota' time."
"No. I want you stay," he said, and squeezed him tighter.
"I can't - I have to get home."
"No, stay here with me."
"Come on, Micky - get up." Mike said, as he pushed him away,
annoyed.
Micky lifted his head to look at Mike, and then abruptly sat up to get away
from him. He closed his robe and sat there on the floor pouting like a
child.
"I'm sorry Mick, but I got a family waiting at home." Mike said.
Micky sat with his arms crossed, and his jaw clenched, not saying a word and staring at the floor to avoid Mike's eyes.
"You know I can't stay here with you," Mike continued.
"I know." Micky's voice cracked as tears started to fill his eyes. Mike could be so insensitive sometimes, he thought, he really knew how to hurt his feelings and he wondered if he did it purposely.
"Micky." Mike said as he moved over to sit next to him.
"I'm sorry, Mick...I didn't mean it."
"It's just that...we're never together."
"We're together everyday."
"I mean alone." Micky said through his tears. "I wish
I could have you all to myself...I don't wanna share you anymore...and I wish
we didn't have to hide."
"It can't be like that, Mick."
"I know, but I can't help it."
"Oh Micky, Ya' gotta stop this."
"I can't. I love you, and it's your fault anyway for starting this
whole thing."
"I'm sorry, Mick...You okay now?"
"Yeah." Micky said, as he wiped his eyes.
"Are ya' sure?"
"Yeah." He sniffed, and looked over at Mike. "Just...go
home."
"I don't wanna' leave ya' like this, Mick."
"I'm fine." He finally looked into Mike's eyes only to see that
same coldness he'd been trying to avoid.
"Okay." He leaned over to give Micky a goodbye kiss. "I'll
see ya' Monday." But Micky didn't let him go, he grabbed his head and
forced his kisses onto Mikes lips not caring if they were wanted, or not.
Mike finally pulled away from him "I'll see ya' Monday - Okay Mick?"
"Okay."
And Mike left.
Micky sat there on the floor alone among the pillows and shag, and thought about
his situation. He loved Mike, but he still felt miserable. He could
never really have him, and he wasn't sure if Mike loved him anyway - at least
he never said he did. So, there was nothing he could do except live with
the torture of seeing his love everyday, but not being able to touch him and knowing
that every night he would go home to someone else. It wasn't fair, but he
had no choice, he couldn't deny his feelings and he couldn't change the world.
It was the next day and
Micky woke up around noon only to stay in bed - he had nothing to do today anyway.
He thought about who he should call to try to get himself out of the house,
but he was too depressed to see anyone, so he remained where he was in bed looking
at the four walls until he heard a knock at the front door. He rolled
over onto his back and looked at the ceiling "Who could that be?"
he said to himself a little annoyed. He got himself up, went over to the
window, and pressed his head against the glass to see who was standing
at the door. When the figure turned around, Micky's face lit up with a
smile, and he grabbed a sheet from his bed to wrap his still naked body up in,
as he ran to open the front door to greet Mike.
"Hi." Mike said as he took in the wrapped sight in front of
him.
"Are you alone?" Micky asked.
"Yeah, I'm all alone out here." He answered, and as he walked through the door, Micky jumped up and threw his arms around him, and kissed him again and again, as
Mike stood there and laughed.
"Hey, calm down, boy." Mike said.
"I can't believe you're here. Where's the wife and kids?"
Micky asked.
"Shopping."
"How much time do we have?"
"All day."
"Really? All day?!"
"Yup."
"What are you doing here?"
"I didn't feel like shopping." And Mike produced a small bunch
of apology flowers from behind his back.
Micky took them with a big smile, and then started the frantic kissing all over again. He flung the flowers over his shoulder to free his hands and help Mike off with his jacket. Then took him by the hand to quickly lead him back to his bedroom. Micky started in on those kisses again while Mike unwrapped his package from the sheets.
Today Micky wasn't going to let Mike get away that easy, so he got to work at getting off those clothes before he could object. Mike had no intention of that anyway. He allowed Micky to undress him as he led him to the bed. Micky got up on his knees at the edge of the mattress while Mike stood in front of him. He kissed him from his neck down to his chest and when he got below his hips Mike let out a small groan.
He lifted Micky by his shoulders,
kissed him, and laid him down on the bed. He copied the same moves, kissing
Micky from neck down his chest, to below his hips - only Micky didn't stop him.
He let out that familiar moan and allowed Mike to continue to feast on him.
Mike wished he could watch him as his mouth worked skillfully on all the sensitive
areas between his legs. He could feel him moving under him in response
to all his planned maneuvers, and he could hear the little moans and heavy breathing,
but he still wanted so much to look at his face. Then he remembered why
he had come here today it was for Micky, so he put his selfish thoughts
out of his mind and continued to bring Micky over the edge. He started
to work him faster as the moans got louder, and he could feel the hands on the
back of his head telling him he was getting close. Micky then sat up,
and Mike could feel his body tensing as he let out that final loud cry and filled
Mikes mouth.
Micky sat there dazed and breathless. Mike started his kisses back up
his body toward his mouth. He forced Micky's head back down onto the pillow
just as his tongue forced it's way into his mouth. He knew it would make
Mike happy that he could taste himself, and thought how Mike would never do
this - he would insist he brush his teeth first. It didn't bother Micky.
He would do anything if it pleased Mike, and he knew what was going to please
him now, so he let him take control, just as he always did and do with him what
he wanted.
Mike continued with his kisses not allowing Micky to catch his breath.
As he lay on top of him pinning him down by his hands, he could feel himself
growing so hard it was becoming painful, so he grabbed Micky and flipped him
over on the bed.
Before Micky had a chance to move, he could feel Mike spread his legs apart and enter him. As many times as Mike had done this to him it was still always as if it were the first. Mike was never gentle with him, he was too consumed by his own passion to be patient, and he liked to make Micky wince with his size. Micky would bury his face in the pillow and grab onto the sheets so hard his knuckles would turn white, and that only made Mike more wild - he wanted to hurt him, but he knew Micky wasn't ready for that. He eased off his pounding - there would be plenty of time to introduce that sort of play later.
Mike grabbed the narrow hips to bring them up to meet his own for his final thrust. Micky let out a small moan which was all Mike needed to make him come. He sat up breathless, and leaned over Micky who hadn't yet moved, and gave him a kiss on the back of his neck. When he rolled over on the bed, Micky finally looked up at him and positioned himself into Mike's arms where they both fell asleep.