FIC: All Tomorrow's Birthdays 4/4
Oct. 25th, 2002 04:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lobelia321Title: All Tomorrow's Birthdays
Part: 4/4
Author: Lobelia; lobelia321@aol.com
Other information: See Part 1/4.
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Hearing Bernard moan made the wine and other juices swash about something fierce inside Dom's body. Dom twisted into Bernard's lap. He clung onto Bernard's shoulders and hung onto Bernard's mouth and swung his body into the curve of Bernard's torso. He felt the knot of Bernard's satinny belt dig into his belly and the knot of Bernard's genitals dig into his groin. And although after-dinner etiquette might dictate more of an interval between the first kiss and the first groinal grope, Dom threw decorum to the winds and slipped his hand inside the corded waistband of Bernard's pyjamas and around the well-defined contours of Bernard's quivering, tower-tall cock.
It was better than the dream. Much, much better. The dream hadn't had any tastes nor any heat nor any moaning sounds. It had only had vision. Dom couldn't see Bernard's cock but who cared? It was there, hot inside his fist, hot and hard.
"God," Dom moaned into Bernard's mouth. "Oh, god."
Because now Bernard was touching Dom's fly and pulling the zip down, and Dom thanked himself inwardly for not having bothered with a belt because that would have slowed matters down too, too much. As it was, Bernard's fingers could crawl in unimpeded and take possession. Could close around Dom's dick with strangling authority, move along his shaft relentlessly, tighten up just that bit more around the root, give a tiny, tiny twirl near the head... Oh, this was better than watching any wanking into the mag or engaging in surreptitious forest frottage. This was better... better possibly than anything that Dom had ever had done to his dick. In fact, it dawned on Dom with every one of Bernard's strokes that his dick had been woefully under-challenged these past ten or so years, ever since it had become of more than urinary interest to Dom.
It was good that he was drunk. Because drunk meant slow. Alcohol slowed down the system, and if Dom hadn't been drunk, it was not unlikely that he might have come within the first few seconds of being stroked by Bernard. And that would have been just that bit *too* much of a regression into pubescent haste. As it was, he could feel himself last. He massaged Bernard's cock in return, copying some of Bernard's moves, making Bernard moan and moaning in response, and wondering if Bernard had some sort of special older-man's trick which meant he didn't need to come for hours and hours.
Oh, Dom hoped so. Dom hoped this would last for hours and hours.
Bernard's other hand was around Dom's back and moved down to cup Dom's arse. It squeezed Dom's buttock so hard he ouched into Bernard's mouth and arched into Bernard's lap. It squeezed Dom's buttock and squashed the oblong object in Dom's back pocket.
There was the sound of sliding cardboard.
"What's this?" asked Bernard.
Dom was left panting, his tongue hanging out.
"This is interesting," said Bernard and held up the condom packet.
Swallow me up, maws of embarrassment, swallow me now.
Bernard wiggled and pushed Dom away from his lap, onto his knees. Dom dropped his hand from Bernard's cock.
"Well," said Bernard, "I must say. There is more to you than meets the eye, young Dominic."
"Uh... Excuse me. I mean, beg pardon. Thank you."
"Yes, I know. You're gabbling because you're embarrassed," said Bernard. "But no need to be. No need to at all." He rotated the packet in his hand. He read the label. He looked up at Dom with a thoughtful expression. "You know, you've put me in mind of something. Of someone. But... But, my dear boy, I'm afraid you're a bit ahead of me here. I'm afraid that I may be just a little out of my depth on this one."
"I really... I want... I didn't mean... Sorry." Why, oh why, had he brought those infernal condoms along? What had possessed him? Everything had been going along so well.
"It's not that I wouldn't love to," said Bernard. "Indeed, I would. I really think I would. But I can't."
"Please," stammered Dom. "That's okay. I'm sorry. I... I just happened to have..."
Please, please, let me suck your cock. Dom had just enough sense left not to blurt it out.
Bernard was still rotating the packet and looking thoughtful.
There was a sound from behind. It was Karl, pouring himself some more port. Dom had completely forgotten that Karl was there with them. He wondered briefly whether he should climb off Bernard's knees but then decided that there was absolutely no point at this advanced stage in the proceedings. Karl was clearly oblivious to scandal, and Bernard seemed to like having him around. Goodness knew why. Perhaps... perhaps because...
God, Dom was thick. This particular penny had taken about 36 hours to drop down the convoluted slots of Dom's brain.
"Karl," said Bernard, as if on cue.
"Yeah?"
"You know, I would hate to see young Dominic go away disappointed," he continued and waved the packet in the air. "Wouldn't that be a shame?"
"No," protested Dom, "not at all. It doesn't matter. I don't need to... I just want to... Can I just suck your dick?"
God! Was he stricken with some sort of disease? The malapropist syndrome? The affliction of the impertinent interrogative? What dark deep corner of non-etiquette had that question sprung out from?
Bernard looked at him and broke into his no-good all-bad grin. He brushed a hair from Dom's forehead and said, "Why, Dominic, that is very sweet of you. And yes, of course, you can, if that's what you want." He leaned forward and whispered into Dom's ear, "It's what I want, too."
Swirls. Howls. Fangs. Dom grabbed onto Bernard's forearm.
"But about the other thing," said Bernard. "I really think... Karl?"
"Yeah..."
"Would you mind doing the honours of, ah..." Bernard gestured with the condom packet.
"Er," said Karl.
"It's only to be polite. He's come expecting it, and I'd hate for him to go away feeling cheated."
"I won't..." began Dom but Bernard wasn't even listening.
"Would that be all right, Karl?"
"Er," said Karl again.
"I take it, that's a yes? Good. Wonderful. Well..." Bernard leaned back into the voluminous cushions and grinned at Dom. "It's out of my hands. I leave you two young people to make the arrangements. Any ideas, Karl? You're usually good at the, ah, logistics of these things."
Dom fell off Bernard's knees. His back hit the coffee table. Grapes spilled around his lap. The port glasses teetered. Dom stared at Bernard, then he stared at Karl. Something seemed to be going wrong with his hearing or his organs of balance, something in his inner ear, gurgling, sloshing, swirling.
"Right," said Karl, "er, that's a good start. If you kneel like that, Dom, in front of Bern, and, er, if I'm at the back of Dom, that might work."
What on earth was he talking about? Dom's head flopped against Bernard's thigh. He felt Bernard's hand in his hair, and that steadied him somewhat. He pushed his head into Bernard's palm. He smelled the fabric over Bernard's knee. And he smelled more, the subtle scent of bathing milk, of freshly-laved pubic hair, of aroused penis and of the damp creases between balls and thighs. Dom closed his eyes.
"Or," Karl continued unperturbed -- unperturbed, and apparently unflappable, "if he wants to be top, I could kneel on all fours, and you, Bern, you could sort of crouch over me, like this..."
"No, no, that sounds a bit too athletic for me, Karl my lad," interrupted Bernard. "Why don't we go with the first option? Dominic? Is that all right with you?"
"Hm?" said Dom. Musk, honey, sweat. Sweet, sweet Bernard.
"Just kneel before me, dear boy," said Bernard, "just as you're doing already. Just as we did all of today, in fact, for those, ah, thorny Hornburg scenes. And Karl, you move that table. But before we start, I do want..."
Dom found himself hiked up under the arms and hoisted to his feet. In three fell moves, Bernard undid Dom's jeans, extracted his dick and swallowed it whole. Hook, line and sinker. Engulfed, ingested, sucked in.
"Oh, god," gasped Dom. Because Bernard's mouth was hot, and Bernard's mouth was wet, and Bernard's mouth was all around his dick, and Dom kept thinking 'ice bucket, ice bucket' and clenching his teeth and biting his cheek, in order not to come then and there, into Bernard's gorgeous mouth and down Bernard's voracious throat.
Dom would have fallen down again, too, if it hadn't been for Bernard's vice-like grip around his waist, joined after a few moments by another pair of hands. Whose, whose? Dom couldn't remember. It was as if Bernard had sprouted extra limbs. An extra tongue, too, for all Dom could tell, for all the moistness and the lickingness and the... oh, god, ice bucket, ice bucket.
All of a sudden, Bernard's mouth was off him. Air shocks hit the saliva coating Dom's dick. Dom half-opened his eyes. There was Bernard. He was untying his belt. There were Bernard's pyjama trousers, paisley-patterned tight across the front. And there was, arching up in all its glory through the slot in the fabric, Bernard's tall, proud cock. Dom sank to his knees, back to position one, and this time, the thing he had been imagining all day, the thing that had prevented the smooth delivery of his lines, the inconceivable, impossible, incomparable thing was finally coming true: Dom's lips closed around Bernard's cock.
No howling. No snapping. No swirling. Just Bernard's mouth filling Dom's mouth. Filling Dom's head. Filling his entire brain and body and eyes and ears and arse... No, not arse. Hang on. Bernard's cock could not possibly be in Dom's mouth and in Dom's arse at the same time, not even in the tilting parallel universe of Bernard's honeymoon suite. That must be somebody else's cock, Karl's or somebody's. But surely it did no harm to imagine that it was Bernard's cock inside him. In two places at once. Thrusting so persuasively into Dom's throat. Plunging so insouciantly into Dom's rectum. As if the Bernard of Dom's dreams had split himself into two and was giving and receiving service at the same time. As if Bernard was entering Dom from all directions and through all orifices. As if there was only Bernard. Bernard and Dom.
Dom barely registered his surroundings by this stage. His mouth was stretched wide. His hands clawed into the flesh of Bernard's softly-furred thighs. The rest of his body was somewhere below and behind. Dom was moaning again, with growing wantonness. His body was making those moans, all of its own accord. Sweat poured off Dom's forehead. Bernard's hand was in his hair, or someone's hand. Someone's hands were pinching his waist. Someone else was moaning somewhere, in a far-off realm, and someone else was grunting, and someone was shooting cum down Dom's throat in long, hot spurts.
That was it. The ice bucket had melted. Dom came, too. Didn't know onto what or wherefore. There seemed to be a fist around his dick. When had that materialised there? Dom's hands curled into Bernard's thighs. His mouth was still open wide but Bernard's cock was now soft within it. There was cum in Dom's mouth and cum on Dom's dick. Cum everywhere.
The thrusting in his arse had not stopped, however. There was evidently someone in the room who had not as yet shot his load. Dom kept on being fucked, kept on being thrust into, kept on being bucked up into Bernard's lap. The fucking was quite leisurely, now that Dom could attend to it a bit better. It was almost absent-minded, a kind of background fucking. It was like being fucked by muzak. Perfect accompaniment to sucking Bernard. Perfect now for the come-down after.
There was another grunt. Then a gasp. Then the muzak stopped. Silence reigned.
Three pairs of lungs expelled carbon dioxide into the temperate hotel atmosphere. Bronchi expanded and contracted. Tubules soughed. Alveoli heaved.
Karl pulled his cock out, fiddled with the condom and sank into the sofa with a pouffe-sound. Dom crawled up Bernard's legs and fell into the space between Karl and Bernard. The cushions embraced him with their soft cumulonimbus arms. Bernard's arm was there, too, against the back of his neck, and Bernard's head in front of him. Bernard stretched across Dom's chest from the left, Karl stretched across Dom from the right, Karl's hand landed on Dom's thigh, and then Bernard's and Karl's tongues darted against each other right in front of Dom's eyes.
Bernard kissed Karl slowly and for a long time. Dom sat heaving, feeling his dick relax and his anus throb. Then the kiss broke, and Bernard turned to Dom. Dom opened his mouth and took in Bernard's tongue, wet and full of the taste of grapes and blue-vein cheese. And then, to complete the triad and because his head just happened to slosh rightwards, Dom found himself kissing Karl as well. Karl had an open-mouthed, zen-like style of kissing, a bit like the muzak of his cock. When they had finished, Karl smiled at Dom and said,
"Mm. You taste of Bern. You taste of cum."
Dom stared at Karl. Karl had been inside him. Karl had kissed him. Karl made remarks about the taste of his kiss and Karl knew all about Dom's debauched debasement before the tower of Bernard's manhood. Nobody else knew about that. He had only once made the mistake of divulging his secret thing to somebody else. In the first flush of newly-arrived New Zealand volubility, he had asked Orli, "Isn't Christopher quite dashing in that white robe of his? Doesn't he have the profile of one of those old Norse gods?" Orli had not stopped teasing him about it for at least three weeks. "Oooh, d'you fancy Christopher Lee, then? Does he do it for you, that dirty old man? Oh, I bet he can't wait to get his paws on a bit of young flesh!"
Dom never told anyone anything after that. Yes, he was quite aware of the dirty-old-man thing, thank you very much. But nobody seemed to consider that there was a dirty-young-man thing as well, and that he, Dom, was just gagging for a bit of dirty old action.
Now he'd had his bit of dirty action. Dream come true. Dom-cum shot. Dirty secret out. And Karl: Karl just sat there, as if he didn't have a care in the world. He rubbed his lax cock, licked the corners of Dom's mouth and smiled drowsily, like someone who'd just had a really good fuck.
Dom smiled back.
"So, Dominic, my young friend," said Bernard, in a voice only slightly thicker than before. "Did that come up to your expectations?"
Dom could but nod.
"I'm so glad," said Bernard. "And Karl seems to be quite happy, too. It's not often that he gets this kind of action. Is it, Karl?"
"Is there any more cheese?" said Karl.
"My dear boy," said Bernard. "Don't tell me you've eaten all the Roquefort again?"
Some sort of conversation ensued, only half-incomprehensible to Dom's somnolent mind, something about dairy products, mouse traps and a certain BBB, which Dom presumed to refer to some sort of delicatessen label.
What with Bernard's arm warm against his nape and Karl's hand warm on his leg, what with his dick well-pumped, his arse well-fucked and his mouth well-fed, Dom drifted into a pleasant reverie full of forest creatures and angel paws.
Dom felt that yes, it was really so. All tomorrow's birthdays had come at once.
-----
The End.
25 October 2002
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to lobelia321@aol.com
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-25 09:19 am (UTC)And it all makes so much sense. Am *entirely* sure that DB gently guided Dom into the wonderful world of (ahem) manhood. Nothing else can explain the level of simmering sexual tension that infects That Programme. (and Match of the Day too, for the same reason, I have no doubt).
Thank you for my birthday epic! It's even better reading than 101 Red Hot English Starters!
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-26 03:37 am (UTC)"Smack me on the bottom, Alan," Gary squealed. "I've been such a naughty girl."
Sorry. At this point the cat fell off my lap I was alughing so hard!
And the rest... Lobelia, you have out-done yourself! I absolutely adored this. With a passion. Just bloody wonderful.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-26 02:07 pm (UTC)thank you
Date: 2002-11-25 04:07 pm (UTC)Pairings I'd never even consider!
Oh, hon, that's one of the nicest things you could say! *smiles happily*
This line cracked me up: "It was like being fucked by muzak."
I am *so* glad you picked that up!!
And I loved the football references.
Yes, and oh this, of course.
Thanks again!
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-26 03:10 pm (UTC)Drooling Orlando v fetching. Many other points of interest which will be detailed in long, and long-in-coming, feedback. But yay! This is funny, wicked and psychologically compelling. Even the parkin cake bakeries ...
(no subject)
Date: 2002-10-30 09:47 am (UTC)I really enjoyed this! Loved the pairings! Loved Bernard ;)
thanks
Date: 2002-11-25 04:04 pm (UTC)Well, thank you!! *gg*
(no subject)
Date: 2002-11-07 05:42 am (UTC)(Not sure about Viggo's neatly-trimmed penis, though!)
thank you
Date: 2002-11-07 06:01 am (UTC)And Viggo's neatly-trimmed penis: research!!! Long staring at the pixels on the full-frontal nude freeze-frame of "Indian Runner" revealed all! (Well, to my crossed eyes, anyway...)
craig
Date: 2002-11-07 06:08 am (UTC)Bwuahaahah!
If *you* want to trademark 'ELF', *I* want to trademark 'Craig'!
(no subject)
Date: 2002-11-14 05:05 pm (UTC)And ooooo boy, but was that good. *grins happily* And I have yet more to read! Yay!
thanks
Date: 2002-11-25 04:09 pm (UTC)Because it's not often I actually enjoy reading strange pairings I would never have dreamed of otherwise.
And that is the nicest thing you could be saying, *grins with glee*. I love converting people to new and wonderful possibilities... And yes, strange, this story does include some of the strangest even I have done... blame Demelza! *g*