[John doesn't argue. He's on cruise-control while his brain lags, easily directed by the pilot. Still hung up on the press of Poe's fingers inside of him, and those kisses scattered from his neck to his ass like so many stars in a constellation.
He's been with men before. Men in college. Men in bars. Men in the military. Men at war. John prefers women, because who doesn't, but there have always been men. Men are quicker, easier, and more casual than women. Men don't ask what he's thinking or feeling. Men don't tell. Men fuck him and forget him, and John forgets them, too.
Then there's Poe, who is unequivocally a man, by the press of his dick against John's ass, and the thick of his forearm across John's ribs, heavy on top of him when John climbs onto the bed, on his hands and knees, but unlike any man he's ever been with.
Unlike any person John's ever been with, in that he pushes John, like no one dares push him, and asks more of John than he's ever willingly offered. And John can't help but give it to him.
John's belly moves with the depth of his breathing as he prepares himself, mentally accepting what's coming, surrendering, like he's been wanting to surrender since Poe looked at him in the doorway to his apartment with dark, clear eyes, that know what they want.
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Date: 2018-01-20 07:52 am (UTC)He's been with men before. Men in college. Men in bars. Men in the military. Men at war. John prefers women, because who doesn't, but there have always been men. Men are quicker, easier, and more casual than women. Men don't ask what he's thinking or feeling. Men don't tell. Men fuck him and forget him, and John forgets them, too.
Then there's Poe, who is unequivocally a man, by the press of his dick against John's ass, and the thick of his forearm across John's ribs, heavy on top of him when John climbs onto the bed, on his hands and knees, but unlike any man he's ever been with.
Unlike any person John's ever been with, in that he pushes John, like no one dares push him, and asks more of John than he's ever willingly offered. And John can't help but give it to him.
John's belly moves with the depth of his breathing as he prepares himself, mentally accepting what's coming, surrendering, like he's been wanting to surrender since Poe looked at him in the doorway to his apartment with dark, clear eyes, that know what they want.
Eyes that want him.]