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New Loves, Old Tricks

by Erin


`New Loves, Old Tricks' by Erin. Posted January 2005.

Part One

With five minutes to go until lockdown, I run up the stairs to O'Reily's pod. There's some pressing business I need to conduct with him before count, and even though the New Years' lockdown officially ended yesterday morning, I'm still relishing the feeling of being able to move around so (comparatively) freely after being trapped in a tiny glass box for two weeks. *Not* that that didn't have its own charms, I muse as my thoughts inevitably return to my podmate. `Cause, you know, it's been all of thirty seconds since my last X-rated Keller flashback.

But thoughts of Chris fly out of my head as I'm confronted with the unexpected sight of Ryan O'Reily changing out of the kitchen whites he'd worn during dinner. I find myself staring through the glass of the pod door, checking out his ass as he bends over to pull on a pair of jeans.

This is entirely Chris's fault - he managed to infuse the last two weeks with so much sex and thoughts of sex that now I can't seem to look at anything or anyone without somehow connecting it to fucking, even when that particular object or person is about as far from my ordinary thoughts of sex as possible. Just this morning for instance, in Sister Pete's office, I was staring at her desk, thinking about nothing in particular, when all of a sudden I was struck by a vision of Chris Keller's muscular arm sweeping across said desk, knocking all her shit to the floor, and proceeding to bend me over the hard surface and fuck me silly. Then there's what just happened at dinner when I attempted to eat my orange. The memory of Chris eating an orange at lunch a few days ago - suggestively sucking the juice from the quarters and slowly licking his fingers with a knowing smirk - came back to me a just little too vividly. I should probably try and erase that memory because getting a boner in the middle of the cafeteria is not that easy to hide. Plus it got a certain smug bastard laughing his ass off at me.

And now I find myself here, gazing appreciatively at *Ryan O'Reily's* butt. Not that there isn't a lot to appreciate; a nice pert bottom encased snugly in a pair of dark green underpants - man, talk about waving the flag for Ireland. I guess they're an improvement on those god-awful red ones he used to wear.

But as he pulls his jeans up over that ass I'm somewhat relieved to realize that although I do have a new appreciation for the view, I have absolutely no desire to fuck him. It's only Keller who has that effect on me - Keller, with the world's *best* ass, and his seductive expression, and his unwavering attention, and his heartfelt declarations of love. And the fact that I want him as much as I do is still as exciting and disconcerting to me as it was two weeks ago. It's still a hard concept for me to get my head around. As I lift my hand to knock on O'Reily's door I find myself wondering if I'll ever really get used to feeling like this - because as much as I'm loving it, it still scares me a little.

Ryan spins around at the sound of the knock and glares at me as I open the door and step in. I think I've taken him by surprise, which has got to be a first for the ever-vigilant Irishman. He seems none too happy about it either.

"What the fuck do *you* want, Beecher?" he asks brusquely.

I pull the cash out of my pocket and wave it like a flag of truce. "Hello to you too, Ryan. I'm here for the stuff I asked you to get yesterday. You said you'd have it by tonight."

He seems placated by the money as he snatches it out of my hand. "Oh right, yeah. I'll just get it." As he starts rummaging through his foot locker he adds, "Hey Beecher, did you ever think about maybe getting someone else to get this shit for you?"

"Since when does Ryan O'Reily turn down business?"

"Since you practically turned my stomach asking me to get this for you," he says, pulling a small brown paper bag out of the foot locker and tossing it to me. "And why do you need more already anyway? I gave you a shitload of the stuff on New Year's Eve and that was only two weeks ago."

"Yeah well, we've been in lockdown since then" I say, as though that explains everything.

"You mean you.... ugh, come to think of it, I really don't want to know."

"I'm sure you don't."

"I still can't believe you're doing this, man. I mean - *Keller*."

"Don't ask me to explain it O'Reily. I can't even explain it to myself." I sigh and glance down at the brown paper bag, "You really want me to get this from somebody else?"

"Nah, I was just giving you shit. I'll get it, but I sure as fuck don't want to hear about what it's for."

"Well that's not gonna happen," I mutter, not even able to picture myself sharing details of my new sex life with anyone else. I've lost every sexual inhibition I ever had with Chris, but when it comes to willingly showing that to rest of the world I'm still a big prude.

"And Beecher, don't tell anyone else I'm getting it for you either or I'm gonna have every fucking fag in this place hitting me up for the stuff. Not that the money wouldn't be nice, but hey, I have a reputation to think about."

"Oh yeah, God forbid Ryan O'Reily becomes known as the local lube connection," I grin at him as walk out the door, hearing Murphy's call for "COUNT!"

I go back downstairs to my pod - *our* pod - and can't help grinning when I catch sight of my latest obsession, my latest love. Huh, *love* - who'd have thought that I'd ever use that word in regards to a strapping six-foot, muscle-bound sex god. Not me, that's for damn sure. Love was always a word I used for women, for their softness, smallness, gentleness. Chris Keller is anything but soft, small and gentle - and I'm loving that more and more each day. Love the hardness of his body, the roughness of his voice and his character, how big he feels when he's wrapped around me, making me feel protected and cherished. Yep, there's a lot to love here.

And right now my love is doing exactly what I *don't* want him to do - dragging the chair I purposely put in our pod this morning out the door as he lines up for count.

"Whoa Chris, what are you doing?"

"Putting this back out in the quad where it belongs."

I grab the chair and push it back through the door. "Why? It's fine where it is."

"Toby, it takes up too much room, it's in the way."

"Of what? You planning on doing a gymnastics routine or something?" It occurs to me that I actually wouldn't mind seeing that.

"No smartass, I'm gonna exercise. I didn't get a chance to go to the gym today."

"Then we'll just put the chair at the end of the bunk. You can exercise in the space *next* to the bunk."

"Toby, what's the big deal about keepin' the fuckin' chair?"

"It isn't a big deal, I was just going to sit and read."

"You can sit and read on your bunk."

"Do you have to argue with every single fucking thing I say?"

We're forced to stop talking as Murphy comes along, calling our numbers. Chris is shooting me suspicious looks the whole time.

When we're told to go into our pods, he almost pulls me into ours, saying "Toby, are you up to something?"

"Huh? No. What makes you think I'm up to something?"

"Well other than you goin' ape-shit over keeping the chair - "

"I did *not* go ape-sh - "

" - you've been acting sneaky and secretive and excited all day. What gives?"

"I don't know what you're talking about Chris."

"Is it something to do with me?"

"Is what something to do with you?"

"Toby, have I mentioned that I hate surprises?"

"Even good ones?" I grin.

"*Especially* good ones. They're the ones most likely to turn around and bite you in the ass."

I can't say I hate this cynical, glass-half-empty side of Chris. He wouldn't be him without it. But there are times when I'm trying to do something nice for him, times like right now for instance, when this eternal pessimist thing he's got going is enough to really piss me off.

"Look Chris, it's nothing for you worry about, okay? It really isn't a huge deal - I mean I'm not planning on proposing marriage or buying you a puppy or anything."

"Well that's good. You know, `cause I'm really more of a cat person." He smirks. "Wanna buy me a kitten?"

I'm struck by the absurd, yet oddly endearing image of Keller cradling a tiny kitten in his big hands and nuzzling it with his cheek. Funny, I actually can see him wanting to take care of such a tiny animal.

"Uh - no, I don't think so." I grin at him as I pick up a book, wedge the chair in the space between the foot of the bunk and the front wall of the pod, and sit down to read. "See? You've still got plenty of room to do - whatever."

"Push-ups" he grins, before whipping off his shirt and getting down on the floor wearing only those same tiny gray shorts he was wearing the first time we wrestled.

Oh sweet Jesus, I think, crossing my legs in a pre-emptive movement and trying very hard to concentrate on my book.

A few minutes later. "So when do I get my surprise?"

I can hear the self-satisfaction in his voice and it grates me. He knows perfectly well how crazy he's driving me, the cocky bastard.

"Lights out" I say, refusing to look up at him.

"Ohhhhh.....so it's *that* kinda surprise."

"You could sound a little less smug about the whole thing."

"No I couldn't" he says, matter-of-factly.

"Well maybe I'll just change my mind about it and not give you the satisfaction."

"I really don't think that's gonna happen, Toby." He's still doing push-ups and his words are starting to come out in gasps and pants. God it sounds just like when we....

"And why's that?" I finally look up at him. And the sight that meets my eyes is like a direct blow to the gut - or groin. Sweaty, straining biceps bulging with the effort of lifting up his weight, perfectly sculpted back muscles bunching and stretching with his movement. The sheen of sweat covering his hot, smooth skin is picked up by the fluorescent lights, highlighting every bump and curve of that hard, toned body. Oh sweet *fucking* Christ.....

"Because, just think Tobias" he pants mockingly, "You could be lying here underneath me right now." I'm squirming because there suddenly doesn't seem to be enough room in the front of my pants, when he adds, "Or lying on top of me."

And that does it. My book's forgotten as I stare openly at all that heated flesh on display; sex flashbacks running at double-time through my head. The time we did it on the floor. The first time he let me top him. The time we did it against the back wall of the pod. The time he grabbed me as I was brushing my teeth, spun me around, lifted me up so I was sitting on the sink and sucked me off right there. The time..........

"Toby?" That sweet, rough voice interrupts my mental porn montage. He flips over and starts doing sit-ups so I can fixate on his flexing abdominal muscles. "See somethin' you like baby?"

The man's still just so *pleased* with himself. I'm once again reminded of the lyrics of that old country and western song: //Some folks say I'm egotistical// //Hell, I don't even know what that means// //But I guess it's got somethin' to do with the way// //That I fill out my skin tight blue jeans// //Oh Lord it's hard to be humble, when you're perfect in every way// //Can't stand to look in the mirror, I get better lookin' each day//

I'm really starting to think that's his theme song.

"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about, Keller, I....." my voice trails off as I stare at his straining thighs and sweaty chest. He's not buying my attempt to seem nonchalant for a second.

He stops his up and down motion and sits up to nod towards my somewhat swollen crotch. He raises his eyebrow sexily (before I met Chris Keller I would never have considered an eyebrow to be sexy) and says "What happened there, Toby? Didja see another orange?"

I glare at him as he laughs as hard as he did at dinner.

"Aw Toby, develop a fuckin' sense of humour, will ya?" he says, between chuckles.

"I don't find it funny that you can drive me so crazy and I don't seem to have the same effect on you," I grumble. Especially when my plans for tonight are kind of counting on me being able to do that.

"Are you fuckin' crazy? Do you have any idea what you do to me? Beecher, look at this." He lays back down on the floor and spreads his legs so his shorts are stretched tight over his groin. In this position, what could have been mistaken for the material of his shorts bunching up, is clearly revealed to be a half-hard dick; similar to the one in my own pants. My heart skips a beat at the sight - maybe the playing field is a little more even than I thought it was.

"Toby, what are you thinking baby?"

I shake my head and smile down at the man I love, "I'm *thinking* Christopher, that it's gonna be a long fucking time until lights out."

*****

Part Two

I'm still brushing my teeth when the lights in Em City finally turn off for the night. At last. My new favourite time of day.

Chris moves up behind me and starts kissing the back of my neck. "So what'd you have in mind, baby?" he murmurs into my curls. I'm still fully clothed aside from my bare feet, but he's only wearing boxers and I can feel the heat from his body against my back.

I spit out my last mouthful of toothpaste and turn around to face him. "Oh, maybe a little of this," I say, hooking my arms around his neck and pressing my mouth softly against his. I can tell he's excited because he usually takes his time with tasting my lips, but this time he starts trying to deepen the kiss almost immediately.

Chris looks disappointed when I pull away. "And maybe a little of this." I kiss my way down his strong neck and start to lick along his collarbone. It's the same move he always uses on me, and if his quickening breath is any indication, he's enjoying it as much as I always do. I slip my hands under the waistband of his boxers and start to rub and squeeze the cheeks of that gorgeous ass, making him gasp. He's already growing hard against my hip. Time to put my plan in motion before I lose my nerve and just let him take over as usual.

"And maybe a little of this," I say, moving off and stepping around him. Ignoring his protests, I grab the chair we'd been arguing about earlier and move it to the very back of the pod, where the shadows are deepest.

I nod towards his boxers. "Take those off and sit down."

He smirks at my quiet, commanding tone, but does as he's told.

Anyone else sitting naked on a chair would be at least a little self-conscious - Chris just sprawls there like he does in group with Sister Pete; slouched down, legs stretched out in front of him, arms folded loosely across his broad chest.

"Now what?" His purposely bored tone belies the clearly *unbored* state of his cock, which is rising excitedly from its nest of coarse, black curls. The sight of it is making my mouth dry and making my own dick twitch.

I don't answer. I step slowly towards him, trying to look seductive, but I'm pretty sure I'm failing miserably. It's unnerving how intently he's staring at me. I stop in front of him and reach up to unzip my jacket. As I work the zipper down I know he can see that my hands are shaking. I suddenly feel like a complete idiot. I know he wants me, but that doesn't stop me from feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable. I've acted sexy and playful plenty of times before, but only further along in the act when I'm too into what we're doing to feel embarrassed about it. I've never taken the lead before - what if he doesn't like what I've got planned?

"Uh, Chris? Um, actually maybe we could just - "

His abrupt movement cuts me off. He straightens up and leans forward, and I'm expecting him to grab my dick, but he just places his hands gently on my hips and presses his face against my stomach. I feel him softly nuzzling into me, whispering "Shhh, baby," and I'm struck by the tenderness of his gesture.

Chris looks up at me. "You don't gotta be shy, Toby. It's just me," he says softly.

Looking at the earnest expression in his beautiful blue eyes, I'm hit with a wave of pure affection. I cradle his face in my hands and kiss him tenderly. He returns the kiss just as sweetly, before parting my lips with his tongue. His grip on my hips tightens as our kiss deepens. Our tongues are searching, caressing. I can taste the mintiness of toothpaste and the underlying taste of Chris. I can feel his hot breath in my mouth as the kisses become more passionate, almost frantic. I find myself climbing into his lap without even breaking the kiss, straddling his legs and feeling his arousal pressed up against my groin. He moans slightly at the new pressure on his erection, so I start grinding slowly against him to hear it again. He pulls his mouth away from mine and buries his face in my chest to muffle his cries, which are getting louder as he gets more excited, bucking his hips up as much as he can with my weight resting on them.

Shit, I think, this was not how I had this planned. Things are starting to get pretty desperate as I grind harder and faster against him, my hard-on trapped painfully inside my pants, and oh *God* all I want to do is take my fucking pants off, but I can't do that without getting off Chris's lap, and at this point, leaving this hot, frantic embrace is just not an option.

Chris looks over my shoulder and groans, "Oh fuck, Toby, stop. Hack's comin'."

"*Fuck*." I glance behind me and sure enough there's the glare of a flashlight coming towards our pod. I jump off Chris's lap and dive into his bed to feign sleep, while Chris quickly stands up and makes like he's using the toilet, holding his hard-on like he's about to piss.

The hack reaches our pod and peers in for what seems like an excruciatingly long time. I'm trying not to touch my aching dick under Chris's blanket, but my hand keeps drifting down there of its own accord. Chris is getting impatient too, because he spits, "Ya had a good look?" at the hack.

I can't see the hack's reaction but I do see Chris give him a sarcastic salute, followed by the finger, before the flashlight finally moves off to the next pod.

"*Chris*," I hiss, slipping out of his bed, "What did you do that for? He could've gotten pissed and taken you to the hole."

"Ah fuck him," says Chris, turning around and kissing me. His strong arms grasp me tightly and my knees almost buckle at just how fucking turned on I am. "Where were we?"

"Right about here." I push him back down onto the chair and stand in front of him, so close our knees are brushing together. I smile down at him and shrug out my jacket, letting it slip to the floor. He watches with rapt attention as I slowly, slowly tug my T-shirt off and toss it behind me.

He licks his lips as his eyes rake up and down my body. "Christ, Toby, you are so fuckin' sexy."

I can't stop myself from blushing, and from the rising heat in my chest I can tell that it's not just my face - a flush of pink is spreading over my entire body. I look down and see Chris's cock straining eagerly towards me.

"Fuck," he whispers hoarsely, "c'mere..."

I step out of his reach with a teasing smile. His obvious frustration and need is making me bolder. He glares at me with a mixture of desire and irritation - this is payback for earlier and he knows it.

I unbutton my pants and carefully work the zipper down a fraction at a time. Chris is practically panting and that's making me more excited. My dick springs free as I pull my pants and boxers down and Chris's eyes widen when he sees just how hard I am. I kick the pants away and stand there naked before him. I feel vulnerable and powerful all at the same time - I'm completely at his mercy and he's completely at mine.

His eyes follow me with rapt attention as I stroke my own stomach, and then run my hand up my chest, over my nipple and up to my mouth. I lick my lips and suck my index finger into my mouth, swirling my tongue around it. I pull my finger out of my mouth with a wet sound and bring my hand back down to my nipple, running my finger over the hard little bump and drawing circles around it. The skin around my nipple is now wet and shiny with spit, and as the cold air in the pod hits the dampness it makes my nipple even harder.

I look back up at Chris. My little show has caused all the effect I wanted and more. His skin is flushed and already slightly sweaty. His breathing is rough and hard, and slight tremors are shaking his body. He's staring at me so intensely that I'm almost scared.

"Toby." His voice is low, rough, and incredibly dangerous. "Get. The fuck. Over here."

I do as I'm told, stopping only to grab the lube I'd stashed under his mattress earlier. I can't tease anymore. I want this as badly as he does.

He takes the lube from me and grabs my hips again, much harder than before - I'm sure I'll have bruises. "So you wanted me to fuck you on the chair, Toby?" His voice is still dangerously low and I have the feeling I'm in the presence of a wild animal. It's disturbingly arousing.

"Yes," I say breathlessly.

He nods slowly. "Okay then."

There's a few moments silence, neither one of us moves. I'm waiting, wondering what he's going to do next, shivering with anticipation. Then the wild animal pounces.

I'm grabbed roughly and pushed down, so I'm lying bent over his lap with my ass in the air, like a small child about to be spanked. I wonder wildly if that's what's about to happen to me, when I hear the snap of a plastic cap. A few seconds later I feel him work two lube-slicked fingers inside of me. I gasp in surprise. He usually starts with just one finger, but he's in no mood to be patient or gentle now. His fingers thrust roughly in and out of me, scissoring, stretching, coating me thoroughly with lube. When I start to whimper at just how fucking *good* it feels, he abruptly pulls the fingers away.

"Chris..." I start to whine.

SMACK! A stinging blow lands on my left butt cheek. I make a choking sound as the burning sensation of heat mixed with pain spreads across my sensitive flesh.

"That's for bein' a teasing little bitch," he growls.

I twist to look over my shoulder at him, incredulous. I can't believe Chris Keller just *spanked* me. Or that I kind of liked it.

"Get up."

I pick myself up off his lap, ass still stinging.

"Do it, Toby." I've never heard him sound so breathless.

I climb back into his lap, straddling his hips, and lower myself slowly onto his throbbing cock. I cry out at the initial pain of penetration, but soon I'm fully sheathed and Chris is groaning as my muscles clench tightly around him. We've never done it this way before, with one of us topping from the bottom. The effect of gravity and my own weight pulling me down harder on Chris's cock, impaling me to new depths, is fucking intense. I'm effectively fucking myself.

"Jesus Christ...oh *fuck*," I pant.

Chris captures my mouth in a hot, wet kiss. We're both too crazy with lust for any style or finesse and the kisses are messy, sloppy, *maddening*; lips and tongues and spit everywhere; both of us fighting to get closer, deeper.

Eventually I have to pull away because the kissing is forcing me to hunch my back in an uncomfortable position. Chris's muscular arms encircle me as I lean back, his strength the only thing keeping me from toppling backwards off the chair. I rock my hips harder and faster, almost sobbing with every stroke of his cock against my prostate. Chris leans forward to lick at my neck and down to my nipples. The extra stimulation reduces me to a quivering wreck. I have to come. *Now*.

"Chris...oh god...*please*..." I'm whimpering, begging shamelessly.

He knows what I want. He keeps one arm wrapped around me and uses the other hand to grab my dick, rubbing his thumb over the head, smearing the pre-come. I have to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out as loudly as I want to. He massages me with swift, strong strokes, his firm touch making me shiver, quake, and finally come with a pitiful moan, my release spurting out over both of our stomachs.

I'm still shuddering, wanting to just collapse on him, but he's still hard inside me. He's whimpering at the feel of my muscles clamping down around him, but he doesn't come. He's bucking beneath me, desperately seeking release. Luckily I know just how to push him over the edge. I lean forward again, suck hard at the spot just below his ear, and bring my hands up to his nipples. I roll the tiny hard peaks between my fingers, then pinch them hard enough to sting. He lets out a hopeless cry and I feel him coming inside me. It feels like his entire body is pulsing.

He's still twitching inside me when I collapse on him like a dead weight. Chris lets out a whimpered "Toby," between breathless pants, but I don't think he even realises he's spoken. We're both lost in the kind of post-orgasmic haze that makes the whole world disappear. There's nothing now, nothing but our rapidly beating hearts, our gradually slowing breathing, and our sticky, sweaty bodies glued together.

I am so fucking in love......

*****

Part Three

"Toby?"

"Hmm?"

"The hack's gone; get your ass down here."

I lower myself from the top bunk, where I hid myself a few minutes ago when the glare of a flashlight interrupted Chris and I while we were cleaning each other off with wet washcloths.

Chris had hidden himself in his own bunk when the hack came, and now I'm sliding in there beside him, cuddling up to him. My skin is still slightly sticky with come, but I don't give a shit. Nothing beats the feeling of being naked and pressed up against an equally naked Chris underneath the warm blanket. Over the past two weeks this bed has been infused with the scent of sweat and sex and Chris and me, and right now, there's no place else I'd rather be.

"Oh, baby," Chris sighs peacefully, burying his face in my neck. There's still a hint of the wild animal about him as he starts sniffing me intently.

"Mmmm, you smell so good," he breathes, "Why do you always smell so fuckin' good?"

"I dunno," I murmur, as he starts licking at the base of my throat.

"You taste good too," he mumbles against me. I can practically feel his voice humming through my skin. "All salty and sweet at the same time."

I let out a soft chuckle at that. "So did you like your surprise, Keller?"

He lifts his face up to look me in the eye. "What - you couldn't tell?" he grins.

"Yeah, I could tell," I grin back, "but I just thought I'd check."

He leans in to whisper against my ear. "Yeah, baby. I fuckin' *loved* my surprise."

I'm blushing as he licks my earlobe and then sucks the little piece of flesh into his warm mouth. It feels so good I'm about ready to shift onto my back and pull him on top of me, when he pulls back again.

"Why though?"

I'm confused. "Why *what* though?"

"Why'd you gimme that as a surprise?"

"Because... these past two weeks, they've just been...incredible. And you *made* them incredible. I was so fucking scared, Chris. Scared that I wouldn't be able to get past the bad memories, past my own stupid hang-ups. But you made it so easy, so...wonderful...," I bite my lip, almost afraid to be saying this out loud, "You make me so fucking happy, Chris. And here in Oz of all places. So I just wanted to do something special for you, to thank you. And show you how much I love being with you...how much I love you."

Chris looks almost embarrassed at my admissions, which is rare for him. But there's also a look of pure delight in his eyes, like he's proud he's done something right, like me being happy is the best present he could ever get.

God, I don't deserve this kind of adoration, I know I don't. But it feels too fucking good to refuse, especially when Chris is offering it so willingly, so unconditionally. It's frightening because I don't know if I have it in me to love him back the same way. I hope to Christ I do.

I kiss him softly on the lips and run my hand up his bicep, feeling the heat and strength of him, fingers trailing over the lines of that beautiful tattoo. "I love you, Chris. I do."

Chris's hand moves to the back of my neck, his fingers playing with the little curls back there. "I love you too," he whispers, "So fuckin' much."

I lean in to kiss him again, but he stops me. "Why *that* though? Why the chair?"

"I dunno, Chris, does it matter?"

He shrugs. "I wanna know."

"No reason, I just thought you'd like it."

"Why'd you think I'd like it?"

"Jesus! Chris, what the *fuck* difference does it make?"

"There's a story behind the whole chair thing, Toby. I can tell there is, and I wanna hear it."

"There's no story."

"Toby, stop being stubborn before I give you another spanking."

That makes me smile. "I still can't believe you did that, you asshole."

"Don't change the subject - tell me the chair story."

"*Chris*."

"*Toby*."

"It's *embarrassing*, okay?"

His face suddenly goes serious. "Toby," he says softly, "I don't ever want you to feel like you can't share things with me. You can tell me anything, don't you know that yet?"

I look away from him, feeling a little ashamed. He wants me to trust him. He wants that so badly and he thinks I still don't trust him. I *do*, though! I'm sure I do. I must. I mean, I wouldn't be lying here with him if I didn't, would I?

I sigh. "Promise me you won't laugh."

"Baby, I'd never laugh at you."

"Excuse me, what? I'm pretty sure I didn't imagine that whole thing with the orange, Chris. I should've been spanking *you* for that."

"I was laughin' *with* you, Tobe."

"Yeah, right."

"Toby, it's gettin' late. I'd like to get some sleep sometime tonight. Just tell me."

"Okay. Well...I wanted to do something you'd like, so I started thinking about the sorts of things that I like, to get ideas, but I wanted to do something we hadn't done before, and you're the only guy I've ever willingly had sex with so I don't have another point of comparison," I take a deep breath and continue, "So I thought about what I like when I have sex with women and...um...well, my favourite position was always sitting up in bed with her on top of me, and I thought if I liked it then you'd probably like it too. But I thought I'd probably hit my head if we did it on the bunk so that's why I brought the chair in."

By this point I am bright red again, and looking anywhere but at Chris's face. He's silent for a moment and then he takes my chin between his thumb and fingers and gently turns my face, forcing me to look at him.

"That's the sort of thing you liked doing with women?"

I nod embarrassedly.

"Did you do that with your wife?"

"Not that often. I'm not sure Genevieve liked it much."

"But you liked it. You fuckin' loved it, didn't you?"

He's stroking his thumb against my lips and speaking in that low, rough voice I love. "Yes," I whisper shakily.

"Do you think about her, Toby?"

"Huh?"

"When we fuck, is it your wife you're thinkin' about?"

"What?! No! *No*, Chris, that's not what I meant - "

"You just told me you did to me what your wife used to do to you, how could you not think about her?"

"Chris, I couldn't think about Genevieve when we have sex even if I wanted to, which I don't. It's too fucking different, and not just in the obvious ways either."

He pulls away form me slightly, staring at me with this pensive look on his face. It's like he wants to believe me, but he's not sure if he should.

"Chris, for God's sake. I love being with you; I love making love with you. Didn't I just tell you that?"

He nods slowly. "So why'd you have to bring your wife into this? This is supposed to be just us, Toby, you and me."

"It's not just my wife, I did that with other women too."

He thinks for a moment before saying, "You say you like it when we have sex, and I believe you. But do you miss women? Fucking with women?"

I surprise myself with my answer, which pops out before I've even thought about it. "No. Not really. I used to, but not anymore. Not since you. I don't really have to think about it anymore. I've got you Chris and that's enough for me now."

He's got that embarrassed-but-happy look on his face again. "Really?"

"Yes. What I did tonight had nothing to do with missing women; it was just me trying to figure out something you'd like in bed."

"Toby, I'll like anything in bed as long as you're the one doin' it to me."

I blush slightly. "Well, that's good to know."

"I like that you made the effort, though," he says, capturing my lips in a sweet kiss. I open my mouth to him and our tongues find each other, searching, tasting, caressing.

"Mmmm," I pull away. "What about you, though? Is there anything women used to do to you that you really liked?"

He chuckles. "What, you wanna hear my sordid sex stories, Toby? I dunno, just regular things, stuff we already do together."

"You can't think of one single thing you'd like me to do to you?"

"Sure I can, but it ain't gonna happen unless *you* can figure out a way to smuggle ice cubes in here. `Cause I can't."

"Ice cubes?"

"Yeah, that was Kitty's thing. She'd stick an ice cube in the side of her mouth and give me a blow job at the same time. The combination of heat and cold on your cock is fuckin' amazing."

Well it sure sounds amazing. Just thinking about it is making my dick twitch. "Jesus, nobody ever did that to me."

"Ah you're missin' out, baby. After I divorced Kitty I got all my girls to do that to me. I think I'd rather do it to you though; you'd fucking love it."

"I bet I would. Damn it, now I'm going to *have* to think of a way to get ice cubes in here."

He laughs softly and pulls me on top of him, pushing me down slightly so my head is resting on his chest. I feel it rise and fall with each breath and feel totally at peace. This is how we've been sleeping all these nights; all wrapped up in each other like this. For a little while anyway, until the inevitable hack comes along and yells at me to get in my own bed. Just once I wish we could go a whole night together and wake up in each other's arms.

So I lay here on top of him now, enjoying the closeness while I can. I press my hands against his sides, stroking his ribs absent-mindedly, while he threads his fingers through my hair over and over.

"Hey Toby?" he murmurs, "You said you liked someone sitting on top you, right? So next time we do it on the chair, how `bout we switch places? Would you like that?"

My heart starts beating faster at the very thought and I know he can feel it through my chest, because he lifts my face up and grins down at me. "So you *would* like that."

"Fuck yeah. Wanna do it now?" Unfortunately my tired brain can't keep up with what my body wants, and I let out a huge yawn.

"Toby, you're tired, you're practically fallin' asleep on me already."

"You could wake me up," I say, trying to do the suggestive eyebrow wiggle he always does. And not quite pulling it, off judging by the bemused look on his face.

He shakes his head. "Hacks'll be coming `round again soon anyway. I wanna lay with you here some more before that happens. We'll do it another time."

"You sure?"

"Toby, I promise at some point you're gonna end up on a chair with me on top of you. Now go to sleep."

"Mm, `kay," I mumble, snuggling back into his chest.

I feel his arms and legs encircle me tightly. Then suddenly he loosens his legs, and rests the heels of his feet on my lower back. I feel him start to gently grind his heels against my skin, massaging the spots on either side of my spine, just above my ass. It feels weird, but nice at the same time.

"What're you doing?" I murmur sleepily.

"Bonnie used to do this to me sometimes after I finished fucking her. I always liked it, so I thought you might too." I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Mmmm...it's nice."

"I never fell asleep on her though," he mumbles, and I can tell he's tired too. "I used to hate sleepin' all tangled up with someone. Needed my space."

"Me too. Had to have room to breathe."

"I like it with you though," he yawns, "only you, baby."

"Only you too, Chris."

My last coherent thoughts before I fall asleep are hopes that the hacks don't come back too soon. Because I want to savour every moment I have here with my new love.

THE END.

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