Feedback: Yes, please
In answer to a challenge issued a whlie back on the M7 Kink list: A series of definitions (taken from the Glossary of Unusual Sexual Practices) First definition: Agonophilia: arousal from partner pretending to struggle
It started out innocently enough--just Vin and JD playing around. One small, spongy nerf basketball and those two tossing it back and forth over the heads of the others--nothing much out of the ordinary except they'd done more playing than working most of the morning, though some days, that really was the ordinary.He ought to have gone out there and told them to stop. There was work to be done. This was an office, not a gym. He ought to have gone out there and said that right from the get go.
But he hadn't. He hadn't and they'd played and he'd watched, and then it went too far and now here he was, sporting a raging erection in the middle of his goddamned office.
JD had shot the ball to Vin who'd batted it back. Only this time, the ball, instead of soaring over everyone's head, hit Josiah full on, right smack in the kisser where it rebounded to land in the middle of the man's coffee mug.
Which apparently, judging from Josiah's rather explosive reaction, hadn't been the first time.
"Okay. That is it," Josiah had growled, throwing whatever it was he'd been reading onto his desk and then rising and moving like a raging bull suddenly spotting a flash of red.
He should have intercepted him at this point. Josiah looked ticked as he'd turned toward the young men and though he hadn't exactly heard the words they'd thrown around, he'd easily been able to read body language and demeanor and wished now that he'd broken this all up then. Would have saved himself a certain headache--one that had nothing to do with that attached to his neck.
"Sorry," JD had squeaked before disappearing under his desk.
"Yeah. Sorry, Josiah," Vin had also squeaked before hastily back-pedaling as the bull turned and stormed his way.
Swear to god, he could almost detect a fine wisp of steam trailing from Josiah's nostrils.
"I said I was sorry!"
Josiah hadn't seemed much to care for Vin's repeated apology and with only a few small steps in Vin's direction, reached and grabbed.
Poor Vin was in a headlock faster than he'd probably have guessed. For a big guy, Josiah sure could pounce.
Vin twisted in Josiah's grip, almost managing to get away, but--
In a flash, Josiah spun Vin around to face the wall with his large hands holding Vin's wrists well above his head. His knee was thrust high between Vin's legs, clearly to unbalance.
Josiah was now laughing and he relaxed just that much, knowing for a fact Josiah wouldn't actually hurt Vin. The others were laughing, Vin now laughing as well. Laughing and shifting to get away and struggling against the hands holding him and the more Vin did struggle, the harder Josiah seemed to grasp.
Oh, God. Suddenly, he was so not laughing. His dick was a sudden rocket inside his pants.
Watching Vin squirm to try and free himself was sparking some basal, primal instinct within him to ignite, and when Josiah spun Vin around, taking one hand to hold Vin's wrists together and with the other, managing to shove that small blue nerf ball into Vin's mouth--Vin bucking in protest against Josiah's large frame--
He was watching, couldn't stop watching. Had a grip so tight on the handle of his office door if he didn't watch it, he'd break a finger.
Sweet Jesus.
This was so wrong. He closed his eyes, turned away and shut the door and, with any luck at all, please God, no one would come barging into his office before he could get himself seated behind his desk.
His cock was swelling from a charge of desire and his thighs were afire, vibrating, knees quivering while his mind was replaying those few seconds over and over, and he should just concentrate on the facts and figures sitting on his desk awaiting his perusal, but he couldn't manage to focus on anything but what he'd just witnessed. It sure wasn't Josiah he was picturing in the little scenario, either.
He had to sit down.
He'd wanted to do that. Wanted to do that for a long time--hold Vin firmly that way, so hard and tight that Vin would barely be able to move. Not even tie him, necessarily, just hold him down. Skin to skin. Muscle to muscle--close enough to feel every tiny shift Vin would make as he'd twist against him, straining and bucking and trying to break free.
But he wouldn't be able to. Oh no.
He'd grab him from behind, just like Josiah had and then rush him toward the wall. He'd press him close in, Vin's cheek flat against the cool of the wall so he couldn't turn his head.
His knee would push open Vin's legs, his thigh shoved high and tight against Vin's denim-clad balls, close enough Vin would feel every inch of pressure there, every inch of intruding thigh as it pressed to him. Vin would be unbalanced, having to widen his already precarious stance, ready to fall backward yet not able to as he'd be right there behind him, plastered to him yet steadying him, bracing him, holding him still and whispering to him how much he was going to enjoy fucking him.
Then flipping him around, just like Josiah had. One hand would grasp Vin's wrists and pin them up over his head as he'd shove him back against the wall and there would be desire there--waves of heat firing inside him and rising, too, on Vin's face. He'd see lust building in those lush eyes.
Vin would try and break away then, shifting and moving and not quite understanding yet wanting it all just the same--just as much as he. Ready to play the game.
"Chris?" he'd ask, that catch there in the gravel of his voice because a part of him wouldn't be entirely certain where all this was coming from, where it was going.
And he'd grin back, definitely sure--a surge of lust on a whole different level.
He'd ease up just that much and Vin would take the advantage given to pull himself free and turn away, because he could--
And he'd tackle him to the floor. Vin sprawled under him, a writhing mass of limbs and he'd pin him solid, knees pressed to Vin's thighs and his hands capturing both of Vin's wrists to pin him still.
Vin would be looking up at him, eyes wide and startling blue in their surprise and for one long, drawn out minute where the only movement would be the rapid pace of Vin's beating heart, they'd just stare at one another. Assessing.
Vin would know what this was about. Would be able to clearly read in his eyes what he wanted. They hadn't played this way, ever, but deep down, realization would hit and Vin would smile that knowing, disconcerting grin, would relax just that much under his hands, conning him into thinking he was giving in--
And then he'd move. Chest heaving and neck arching, Vin would twist and turn--but he wouldn't be able to get away. He wouldn't let him get away.
Never let him get away.
He'd lean over and catch Vin's lips and plunge his tongue deep, forcing his way into that mouth. Vin would moan then, low and gravelly and full of want, clearly catching on to the game--
He'd be wearing one of those shirts, Vin would, the western style with snaps for buttons and with one hand still retaining firm grasp of Vin's wrists over his head, his other would pull that shirt open, snaps giving way to expose the first glimpse of naked flesh.
Mouth moving to latch onto one of the already erect nipples, he'd hear Vin gasp, feel him half-rising underneath him, back arching, head thrown back, neck a perfect arc--
And he'd be hard, so hard watching him. Feeling him, Vin's taut muscles straining under his hands, struggling against not being able to move and, God, his own erection would be straining against the seam of his pants, full and hot and aching to the point of hurting.
Like he hurt now. Oh, Christ.
With eyes closed and hands gripped painfully to the top of his desk, he willed this feeling to leave.
There was something to be said about time and place, and this sure as hell wasn't either.
A knock on the door, he startled and straightened up.
"Yeah," he called out, clearing his throat and fumbling with pens and papers on his desk and God, his voice sounded like he was choking on something. "Yeah?"
Then he walked in. Vin.
"Hey, Chris," Vin said and strode in with that loose-limbed ease he had, fingers pulling through hair that was already mussed and looking seemingly flushed and none of that was doing a damn thing to rid him of his current under-the-desk problem.
Vin nodded toward the outer-office. "Me 'n' the boys were just talkin' about what to do for lunch. You up for anything?"
He couldn't even look at him. "Yeah. I'm up."
Vin came closer, one hip sliding to perch on his desk and picking up the heavy glass paperweight sitting there, his fingers rubbing slowly over the smooth surface. "An' what about later tonight?"
He rolled his chair further under his desk and looked at Vin. "Tonight. You coming out to the ranch?"
"If you're up for it." Vin's grin held a certain amount of malicious intent--
Which pulled a grin from him in return and he could feel his heart rate soar as he thought about what all they might get up to this night. "Yeah, I'm up for that."
"Great!" The paperweight was tossed from hand to hand, his eyes following along as it danced. "I'll pick up some beer. Maybe a pizza."
"Veggie," he stated, eyes glued to the paperweight now being thrown a foot or so into the air.
Vin slid him a glance, tossed the paperweight one more time and then scoffed, "Yeah, right. Like I’m going to eat that."
He half-rose, reaching and grabbing Vin's wrist at the same time Vin caught the paperweight which then fell the last few inches to the desk with a dull thud.
"Oops," Vin said.
He didn't let go his wrist.
Vin's arm tensed, his hand fisted and he was looking down then gently tugging to pull free, eyes meeting his when he couldn't. "Problem, Chris?"
"No. No problem." He didn't let go Vin's wrist though, and Vin's eyebrows rose.
"Okay," he said, again looking down at his wrist and not yet getting it, but he would. "Fine. Veggie. I'll get half-veggie, half-sausage."
"Sausage? I could go for sausage." If anything, he held Vin's wrist tighter, loving the hell out of the feel of Vin flexing within his grip.
"Hey! That's my sausage you're covetin'. You wanted veggie, remember?"
Vin was grinning, pulling his wrist away and he let him. For now.
"You want any of my sausage, Chris, you'll have to fight me for it."
"Yeah," he agreed, grinning now and this day just couldn't end too soon. "Oh, yeah."
End