|
Lime Crush Has No Inherent Meaning Oz and Xander at the beach, both naked but for ankle bracelets and bellychains. And for some reason Oz is wearing pink pearl lipstick, some of which has smeared on Xander's mouth. It's way too hot, the sky is that dark polarized blue and these occasional licks of superhot wind blow little spumes of white sand around them. Somewhere there's a radio. The sea is making this dry-silk sliding and thumping sound. Okay, they're a little stoned. Or a lot stoned. Oz's mouth tastes like hash oil and Lime Crush. And they're lying on Indian cotton wraps, blue and green and tropical pink. Oz's hair is totally salt and sun crusted. It feels crunchy and spongy. Oz doesn't mind. He likes it when his hair feels interesting Xander's hair is the exact opposite. Texture-wise, not interest-wise. It looks softly damp, dark and curling a little, slick with cocoa butter and salt sweat So Oz rolls over on his side. To better look at Xander. Who is leaning back on his elbows, legs straight out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. Silvery ankle bracelet and a silvery bellychain. The sun is making them shine in a greasy, hazy way. Xander's nipples are brown as little, bumpy chocolate coins so Oz leans over and puts his lips against the nearest one. The nipple is hotter than his mouth. It tastes like cocoa butter -- like it should be chocolate but it's not sweet. And that's fine too. Oz has no problem with things that look like one thing but are another. Xander is like, perfect just the way he is. His nipple is the perfect shape for Oz's mouth to make. His belly is the perfect surface for Oz's hand. There's kind of a harmonic thing going on with the noises he's making too -- the thumping sea, the seagulls and Xander. Kind of a moaning sound. Yup. Perfect. But then he could also be greasier. Not taking his mouth off Xander's nipple, Oz feels around until he finds the cocoa butter and slides his fingers through it. Then he brings his hand back up, spreads cocoa butter on Xander's hot stomach. The bellychain is hot enough to brand them. Oz thinks the cocoa butter should be bubbling from the heat and is surprised that it isn't. Not disappointed though. Xander's belly is pushing up against his hand in a very nice way. He slides his hand down through the soft, shiny pubic curls and meets up with Xander's dick. This is a dick he knows well. A dick he's left pink lipstick on. He would like to introduce Xander's dick into some part of his body. But which part? His mouth loves Xander's dick. His ass also. But his hand is right there! Plus his hand has been doing all the work. So. Dominion and the moral high ground. Hmmm. And he really likes to be able to watch Xander moving toward orgasm and then come. It makes him feel like he's doing Willow magic. And meanwhile of course his hand has been moving, staking its claim, stopping only to dive back into the cocoa butter. Xander meanwhile is keeping up his part of the thing they're making -- uncrossing his ankles, spreading his legs, pushing up against Oz's hand and also forward against his mouth. The little extra length of the bellychain has slipped down into the groove where his thigh meets his groin. His moans are amazing. Also he's making breathy whimpers that Oz can actually feel sending shivers through him. His own dick is nice and full and feels good. His whole body is buzzing. If he was rubbing up against Xander's hip he'd be on his way to orgasm in a minute so he's glad he's not. So now he unsucks Xander's nipple and puts his full attention on his hand. His hand is really enjoying itself -- sliding all around Xander's dick, up and down, over the head. Liking the way it feels slippery and resilient, like a dolphin might feel. The skin so soft and fragile over the hardness underneath. Still keeping his touch kind of light, occasionally dipping down to circle Xander's balls until they ridge and tighten and then back. Nice loose rhythm. And Xander is such a cool person to make love to. There are so many ways to touch him that make him feel good. Ways that no one else has ever touched him. He's like an amazing instrument that no one's ever really learned all the ways to play. This makes Oz feel very cool and for a while he just puts all his attention into playing this particular part of Xander. For a while there's nothing but his hand and Xander's dick and the sounds and the motion all working toward making something perfect. For a long, beautiful while... And then, whatever the thing is that calls a person back from perfect places calls him back and he's aware of everything again. How hot it is and the feeling of his body on the soft cotton on the sand. How close he is to coming. Also the fact that Xander is begging -- head thrown back, one heel pushing down into green cotton, grinding himself into the sand. Begging, or almost a kind of praying. Yeah, Xander found the perfect place too and he's still in it. Body playing back the reverb in the rhythmic twist and arch of his hips and Oz loves this part. This is the part where everything snaps and shudders and Xander's cries get ragged like surf and then everything holds on a single bent bar of stillness -- perfect whole -- and Xander comes. And then there is the part where they lie there on this first and final beach for a minute or two, their breath sucked up by the wind, Xander's heat still on his knuckles. And then there is the part where Xander rolls over and grabs him up in this huge, loose hug and starts kissing him and kissing him and kissing him until he's dizzy. And also the part where Xander's mouth moves down. Yeah, Oz definitely also loves that part. |
