My New Lover (1/1) by Griffin Grimes
Mulder/other
Category: V
Rating: R for homoerotic allusions
Summary: How Mulder might have managed to quit smoking...
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Since I quit smoking, I've found a new lover. One that is a much saner substitute for the cancer sticks I've been hooked on since I was barely old enough to have wet dreams.
I see this lover two or three times a day now. Yeah, a love life like that can be interfering, having to sneak a choice encounter in the middle of the workday as well as at night. I know it's too much of a good thing, that I need to have some self-restraint. But I just can't resist, craving to taste the juices of my new love just as I had craved a smoke to satisfy my other addiction...my hated addiction.
My one concern, nagging at the back of my mind but being pushed aside by my uncontrollable passion each time we meet, is that maybe this equally addictive relationship is not healthy, either. I know love like this can't give me cancer or emphysema or heart disease, but overindulgence in anything can lead to negative consequences. That's what everyone's told me, anyhow.
But I'm not stopping. I'm in too deep to go back now.
Each encounter with my new love is the same, but unique in its own way. I never know how my object of desire might yield to me, finally - if I will be able to go slow and savor each moment until the very end, when there is no more I can take, or if I will find the yielding early, as if my lover trembled and broke at the very sight and touch of me.
The sweetest pleasure my lover offers me is what I can give: the licking, the sucking, the eager interplay of teeth and tongue and lips. When I am with my new beloved, all focus is on these decadent activities, and my mind can evade thoughts of my nicotine addiction for a few minutes.
I begin each encounter by begging my love to strip for me. Unlike all others I have had, this one is shy, and after several long moments of my admiration of the beautiful - but frustratingly covered - form, I can wait no longer and reach out, baring the object of my lust in one quick and brutal movement of my strong fingers. Once uncovered, hungry eyes feast on what I see before me, and I pause to savor the thought of what a delicacy is promised within inches of my desirous mouth.
Once the lovely flesh is bared, I grip my lover's shaft firmly, finding it hard and unyielding from the very beginning. I can't help but smile at times like this, knowing my dear one won't be going anywhere as long as I keep my hand wrapped around this hard rod without mercy.
Anchored this way, my tongue begins its practiced dance. The ballet starts slowly, tentatively, as only the tip of my tongue touches my lover's skin - each time approaching as if it was our virginal experience together. Soon, however, I am lapping at it, trying to cover each millimeter of surface with the tender wetness of my tongue.
My lover responds to these careful ministrations, and almost immediately I am rewarded with the taste of juices from within. They seem to seep out from each pore, rushing to fulfill their created purpose to pool up and drip down my throat, sometimes coming so fast it is like trying to keep up with swallowing a rushing stream. I can't succeed, and my lips are soon shiny with it, my chin betraying a trail of my love's essence running down to my neck.
I've noticed my lover's juices taste best when the hard surface of the orbs is certain colors - deep red or purple elicit the sweetest nectar, and my eyes delight when I remove my lover's covering to find a waiting prize that is large and hard and tinted to my satisfaction.
Oh, and those smooth, round, hairless treasures...each one is delicious. I can't stay away from them. If not for a quiet, unassuming nature, my lover would be strutting around with chest puffed out in pride at the size of those lovely jewels held high on that firm, ivory shaft. They are huge, so huge I think I may choke on one someday, if it were possible for one to come loose as the result of my often overly eager sucking. What a way to go. Sure beats lung cancer.
My final act each time my lover and I meet, though, might seem shocking after all this loving tenderness I have described so far, this almost worshipful lapping and sucking and pleasuring that I offer up so respectfully. But each offering must come with a sacrifice, right? So don't be shocked. I know this is what my lover wants - what is understood will be the last, most extreme reward of each dance. Because eventually, my lover can take no more, can withstand my passion for not a moment longer, and has to give in to me completely.
Once I see this readiness in my beloved, I take the juicy roundness into my mouth one last time and position my teeth gently, strategically, carefully. I don't want to make this last bit go too fast, even though I know it can't be prolonged much more. I am almost afraid of this moment, thinking I can not do this to one I love so dearly, but I know this is the ultimate act for my lover. Avoiding it would be like avoiding the sunset at the end of a beautiful day. And like a day has to end but will surely be replaced with a new one even before the last is forgotten, I know that the finality of this act only means that there will be another time to begin the dance all over.
So, in these last few moments, when I can feel the pliancy and softness underneath the hard veneer of my lover, I must throw caution aside and turn brutal, showing no mercy if my lover will be fulfilled. I hear my lover emit a certain telltale sound, as if signaling me to continue to the last fateful action. I close my eyes tightly and bring teeth together, crushing through the skin to the soft center, finally breaking through the thin skin and tearing that lovely, sweet ball into pieces, taking one half to work in my mouth - but never to swallow, I am not that much of a brute! - and leaving the other half still attached and dangling to that once rock hard, now flagging shaft.
The hard ball so severed, I open my eyes again to see the juices of my love flowing freely out of the remaining half, and know that this is the end for my beloved. Until another one comes along.
Yes, I am grateful for what this love has given me, and what the next one will give me as well. And the next one, and the next one. Each lover finding a similar fate, and ultimately glorious death, in my mouth.
If I hadn't found my new love when I did, I don't think I could ever have quit smoking. Well, it wouldn't be anywhere near as sweet. Yes, I thank God every day for the invention of Charms Blow-Pops.
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Okay, how long did it take to figure out this one? Let me know at griffgrimes@hotmail.com.
In case you don't know, Charm's Blow Pops are lollipop candies very similar to Tootsie Roll Pops, but which have bubble gum at the center. Try a Super Blow Pop (twice as big as a normal pop and big enough to fill your mouth to near-gagging) and you'll think you went to sucker Heaven. ;^) And, like has been said already, a few extra calories sure beats lung cancer.