Christmas Drabbles Part Twenty One
Dec. 26th, 2008 05:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysonrulesSo much for drabbles. LOL! I thought I might be lynched if I stopped, so I just kept going this time...
Harry blinked in surprise, but gave in to the pressure of Malfoy’s hands on his wrists, pulling his hands out of Malfoy’s pants. Malfoy released his arms and bent forward to pull at the cashmere, removing it from Harry’s trousers and pulling it over his head in a fluid motion.
Harry nearly bit his lip in uncertainty as Malfoy’s eyes travelled over his bared skin and felt indescribable relief when a soft smile curved his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he said.
“You have?” Harry asked.
“Bloody hell, yes. Watching your muscles ripple under that cashmere… Once the shock wore off that you actually own a cashmere sweater, of course.”
Harry could not respond to the jibe, amazed that Malfoy had not only watched him, but had been wanting to remove his clothing all night. He wondered what he had done to deserve such brilliance. Perhaps his reward for killing the wretched evil threatening the world had finally come due. If so, he forgave the wait—it was worth it.
“Trousers off,” Malfoy said imperiously. Harry shifted back, feeling a vague sense of loss as he moved out from under Malfoy’s long legs even though he planned to return to that position straightaway. He got to his feet and stood up, toeing off his shoes and shucking his trousers with abandon. He paused with his hands on the waistband of his pants, suddenly self-conscious, even though his erection was more than evident beneath the straining material.
Surprisingly, it was a smirk from Malfoy that put him at ease. “Green?” the blond asked in an amused tone.
“It was Christmassy!” Harry protested.
“And had nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been dreaming of shagging a certain Slytherin.”
Harry swallowed hard at hearing the word shagging from the certain Slytherin. “Of course not,” he lied and wondered how long he had actually dreamed about Malfoy. Generally his dreams had been of the pounding with fists variety, but he had to admit there had been a few times he had awakened with the disturbing knowledge that perhaps fists were not what he wanted to use to pound the blond, but something else equally hard that he’d been forced to stroke into submission with the thought of a hot mouth sucking his cock while his hands were buried in soft blond hair…
His throat went suddenly bone dry at the realization that his fantasy might actually become reality if the current hungry expression on Malfoy’s face was any indication. His erection twitched in eager anticipation.
“Of course not,” Malfoy repeated, disbelief evident in every syllable. “Pants off.”
Harry’s throat worked, but his salivary glands had ceased functioning, so he took a deep breath instead and shoved. He stepped out of the material and kicked them aside to stand fully exposed before the blond. He realized his eyes were closed tightly about the time the silence became unbearable. He opened his eyes reluctantly to see Malfoy’s wide eyes fixed on his jutting cock.
“Malfoy?” he asked uncertainly.
Malfoy did not speak, but moved instead, swinging his feet to the floor and leaning his lithe body forward. Before Harry could react, a pale hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the very hot mouth of his fantasies wrapped itself about the head. Harry inhaled so sharply he felt a flare of pain in his lungs. Silver eyes shot up to his and Harry stared down at Malfoy, who had Harry’s cock in his mouth. His cock was in Draco Malfoy’s mouth. Before he could fully register the shock, Malfoy’s tongue flicked over the vein at the base and then swirled over the sensitive tip, dipping in to the slit that was most definitely leaking fluid. The taste did not seem to bother the blond, whose gaze remained locked with Harry’s as he repeated the manoeuvre several times, sending shivers of delight racing though Harry’s blood and bringing him dangerously close to spilling quite a lot more fluid into Malfoy’s eager mouth.
“Fuck, Draco,” he squeaked.
Horrifically, the words stopped Malfoy’s blissful motion and he pulled away to leave a cold sensation where the air touched Harry’s wet cock. “All right, if you prefer.”
The words finally penetrated the confused fog that had formerly been Harry’s brain. Malfoy removed the silk that had covered his loins and reclined back upon the couch. One foot remained on the floor while the other propped on the seat of the sofa, giving Harry a tantalizing view of Malfoy’s jutting cock and his down-covered testicles. He would have spent quite a long time allowing his gaze to greedily take in the display, but an impatient sound from Malfoy yanked him from his reverie.
Harry fairly launched himself forward, sliding back into position as Malfoy lifted both of his legs and once more placed them on either side of Harry’s hips. This time Harry did not hesitate to thrust forward and the first touch of his cock against Malfoy’s—Draco’s—was blissful. He rocked slightly, rubbing their testicles together and thought the resulting moan from Draco to be the loveliest sound he had ever heard.
He leaned forward and kissed Draco again, adoring the feel of so much smooth skin touching his. The pressure on his cock was almost unbearable, however, so he pulled away before losing himself in Draco’s kiss. He straightened and then looked down at their duel erections, suddenly having no idea what to do next. He lifted perplexed eyes to Draco’s and the blond laughed.
“Harry. You’ve never done this before?”
Harry shook his head and flushed, but Draco merely fumbled in his discarded robes for his wand. After a brief lesson, in which Harry was rather embarrassed but even more turned on, Harry found his fingers touching parts of Draco Malfoy that he had not imagined even in his wildest fantasies.
Apparently he touched correctly, judging by the whimpering cries that issued from the blond every time Harry moved his fingers like… so. Draco’s back arched and Harry decided he was perfectly content finger-fucking Draco. The Slytherin, however, had other plans. “Good, Harry. Very good, but I need your cock. Inside me. Right now.”
Harry nearly snatched his fingers out in his haste to comply, and felt a moment of chagrin with Draco winced, but he said nothing, so Harry quickly positioned the head of his well-lubed cock over the newly-vacated entrance.
“Slowly,” Draco said and Harry nodded. He eased his erection forward, guiding it with his hand, and bit his lip when he realized it would never fit. No amount of delightful foreplay stretching could ever—he yelped in shocked amazement as Malfoy slammed his hips forward, impaling Harry nearly to the hilt.
Draco sagged against the sofa cushions, trembling. “Wait a moment,” he begged.
“Of course,” Harry said, not sure he could move if he tried. He was too busy trying to process the fact that he was sheathed in the tightest heat he had ever experienced—not that he was all that experienced.
After long moments during which Harry finally recovered his senses along with the desperate need to move, Draco said, “Okay. Okay, Harry.”
He drew in a steadying breath and pulled back, nearly moaning aloud at the feel of slick warmth gripping his cock as he moved. The mental chanting began again and threatened to spill past his lips in a torrent of nonsense. He pushed forward again, gently, but Draco rocked with him, pressing him deeper than intended. A low cry made Harry’s eyes snap to Draco’s, but the silver orbs were tightly closed.
“Again, Harry. Again, again.”
Harry did it again. And again. And several more agains, until he was nearly mindless in his motions, thrusting hard and fast with Draco’s cries urging him on. His hands gripped Draco’s hips tightly for leverage and he feared he would leave bruises, but he dared not let go. Draco’s hands held the sofa as if hanging onto a lifeline.
Harry felt his orgasm building, rising like a flood tide, and he realized Draco’s leaking cock was quite neglected. He let go of one pale hipbone to grip Draco’s erection. He would have felt some satisfaction when he felt it immediately throb in his hand as liquid fairly exploded from the tip, but he was far too distracted by the spasms gripping his own cock. He threw his head back with a near-shriek as he came so hard his vision went white. His shuddering spasms seemed to last forever, but they finally subsided enough for him to collapse in a limp heap on Draco’s chest.
“I think you finally killed me,” Harry said against the damp strands of blond hair tangling over his face.
Draco’s arms tightened around Harry’s back, yet another thing he could quickly become used to. “How so, Harry?”
“I can’t move. I think I died of bliss.”
“It seems to be catching. Perhaps we’re both dead.”
Harry chuckled. “I wasn’t sure I’d make it to heaven.”
Instead of making a snide comment about the Chosen One, Draco only tightened his grip.
Probably one more part coming... *grin*
Part Twenty Two
Part One
Harry blinked in surprise, but gave in to the pressure of Malfoy’s hands on his wrists, pulling his hands out of Malfoy’s pants. Malfoy released his arms and bent forward to pull at the cashmere, removing it from Harry’s trousers and pulling it over his head in a fluid motion.
Harry nearly bit his lip in uncertainty as Malfoy’s eyes travelled over his bared skin and felt indescribable relief when a soft smile curved his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that all night,” he said.
“You have?” Harry asked.
“Bloody hell, yes. Watching your muscles ripple under that cashmere… Once the shock wore off that you actually own a cashmere sweater, of course.”
Harry could not respond to the jibe, amazed that Malfoy had not only watched him, but had been wanting to remove his clothing all night. He wondered what he had done to deserve such brilliance. Perhaps his reward for killing the wretched evil threatening the world had finally come due. If so, he forgave the wait—it was worth it.
“Trousers off,” Malfoy said imperiously. Harry shifted back, feeling a vague sense of loss as he moved out from under Malfoy’s long legs even though he planned to return to that position straightaway. He got to his feet and stood up, toeing off his shoes and shucking his trousers with abandon. He paused with his hands on the waistband of his pants, suddenly self-conscious, even though his erection was more than evident beneath the straining material.
Surprisingly, it was a smirk from Malfoy that put him at ease. “Green?” the blond asked in an amused tone.
“It was Christmassy!” Harry protested.
“And had nothing to do with the fact that you’ve been dreaming of shagging a certain Slytherin.”
Harry swallowed hard at hearing the word shagging from the certain Slytherin. “Of course not,” he lied and wondered how long he had actually dreamed about Malfoy. Generally his dreams had been of the pounding with fists variety, but he had to admit there had been a few times he had awakened with the disturbing knowledge that perhaps fists were not what he wanted to use to pound the blond, but something else equally hard that he’d been forced to stroke into submission with the thought of a hot mouth sucking his cock while his hands were buried in soft blond hair…
His throat went suddenly bone dry at the realization that his fantasy might actually become reality if the current hungry expression on Malfoy’s face was any indication. His erection twitched in eager anticipation.
“Of course not,” Malfoy repeated, disbelief evident in every syllable. “Pants off.”
Harry’s throat worked, but his salivary glands had ceased functioning, so he took a deep breath instead and shoved. He stepped out of the material and kicked them aside to stand fully exposed before the blond. He realized his eyes were closed tightly about the time the silence became unbearable. He opened his eyes reluctantly to see Malfoy’s wide eyes fixed on his jutting cock.
“Malfoy?” he asked uncertainly.
Malfoy did not speak, but moved instead, swinging his feet to the floor and leaning his lithe body forward. Before Harry could react, a pale hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the very hot mouth of his fantasies wrapped itself about the head. Harry inhaled so sharply he felt a flare of pain in his lungs. Silver eyes shot up to his and Harry stared down at Malfoy, who had Harry’s cock in his mouth. His cock was in Draco Malfoy’s mouth. Before he could fully register the shock, Malfoy’s tongue flicked over the vein at the base and then swirled over the sensitive tip, dipping in to the slit that was most definitely leaking fluid. The taste did not seem to bother the blond, whose gaze remained locked with Harry’s as he repeated the manoeuvre several times, sending shivers of delight racing though Harry’s blood and bringing him dangerously close to spilling quite a lot more fluid into Malfoy’s eager mouth.
“Fuck, Draco,” he squeaked.
Horrifically, the words stopped Malfoy’s blissful motion and he pulled away to leave a cold sensation where the air touched Harry’s wet cock. “All right, if you prefer.”
The words finally penetrated the confused fog that had formerly been Harry’s brain. Malfoy removed the silk that had covered his loins and reclined back upon the couch. One foot remained on the floor while the other propped on the seat of the sofa, giving Harry a tantalizing view of Malfoy’s jutting cock and his down-covered testicles. He would have spent quite a long time allowing his gaze to greedily take in the display, but an impatient sound from Malfoy yanked him from his reverie.
Harry fairly launched himself forward, sliding back into position as Malfoy lifted both of his legs and once more placed them on either side of Harry’s hips. This time Harry did not hesitate to thrust forward and the first touch of his cock against Malfoy’s—Draco’s—was blissful. He rocked slightly, rubbing their testicles together and thought the resulting moan from Draco to be the loveliest sound he had ever heard.
He leaned forward and kissed Draco again, adoring the feel of so much smooth skin touching his. The pressure on his cock was almost unbearable, however, so he pulled away before losing himself in Draco’s kiss. He straightened and then looked down at their duel erections, suddenly having no idea what to do next. He lifted perplexed eyes to Draco’s and the blond laughed.
“Harry. You’ve never done this before?”
Harry shook his head and flushed, but Draco merely fumbled in his discarded robes for his wand. After a brief lesson, in which Harry was rather embarrassed but even more turned on, Harry found his fingers touching parts of Draco Malfoy that he had not imagined even in his wildest fantasies.
Apparently he touched correctly, judging by the whimpering cries that issued from the blond every time Harry moved his fingers like… so. Draco’s back arched and Harry decided he was perfectly content finger-fucking Draco. The Slytherin, however, had other plans. “Good, Harry. Very good, but I need your cock. Inside me. Right now.”
Harry nearly snatched his fingers out in his haste to comply, and felt a moment of chagrin with Draco winced, but he said nothing, so Harry quickly positioned the head of his well-lubed cock over the newly-vacated entrance.
“Slowly,” Draco said and Harry nodded. He eased his erection forward, guiding it with his hand, and bit his lip when he realized it would never fit. No amount of delightful foreplay stretching could ever—he yelped in shocked amazement as Malfoy slammed his hips forward, impaling Harry nearly to the hilt.
Draco sagged against the sofa cushions, trembling. “Wait a moment,” he begged.
“Of course,” Harry said, not sure he could move if he tried. He was too busy trying to process the fact that he was sheathed in the tightest heat he had ever experienced—not that he was all that experienced.
After long moments during which Harry finally recovered his senses along with the desperate need to move, Draco said, “Okay. Okay, Harry.”
He drew in a steadying breath and pulled back, nearly moaning aloud at the feel of slick warmth gripping his cock as he moved. The mental chanting began again and threatened to spill past his lips in a torrent of nonsense. He pushed forward again, gently, but Draco rocked with him, pressing him deeper than intended. A low cry made Harry’s eyes snap to Draco’s, but the silver orbs were tightly closed.
“Again, Harry. Again, again.”
Harry did it again. And again. And several more agains, until he was nearly mindless in his motions, thrusting hard and fast with Draco’s cries urging him on. His hands gripped Draco’s hips tightly for leverage and he feared he would leave bruises, but he dared not let go. Draco’s hands held the sofa as if hanging onto a lifeline.
Harry felt his orgasm building, rising like a flood tide, and he realized Draco’s leaking cock was quite neglected. He let go of one pale hipbone to grip Draco’s erection. He would have felt some satisfaction when he felt it immediately throb in his hand as liquid fairly exploded from the tip, but he was far too distracted by the spasms gripping his own cock. He threw his head back with a near-shriek as he came so hard his vision went white. His shuddering spasms seemed to last forever, but they finally subsided enough for him to collapse in a limp heap on Draco’s chest.
“I think you finally killed me,” Harry said against the damp strands of blond hair tangling over his face.
Draco’s arms tightened around Harry’s back, yet another thing he could quickly become used to. “How so, Harry?”
“I can’t move. I think I died of bliss.”
“It seems to be catching. Perhaps we’re both dead.”
Harry chuckled. “I wasn’t sure I’d make it to heaven.”
Instead of making a snide comment about the Chosen One, Draco only tightened his grip.
Probably one more part coming... *grin*
Part Twenty Two
Part One