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lobelia321The continuation of John and Bernard:
Title: Life After Virginity
Part: 1b/1
Author: Lobelia; lobelia321@aol.com
Other info: See Part 1a/1
-------------
"How shall I..." he said, his voice thick with desire and anticipation.
"I don't know, John. If you lift up your legs, maybe..." suggested Bernard, sounding a tiny bit breathless.
"All right. Just... No, that's no good. I'll do my back in like this."
"Or if you turn around? Lean over? Ah, no, hang on, *I'll* do my back in if you're leaning over like that."
"Christ, Bern, we're getting too old for this."
"Rubbish, John. Millions of men our age are doing this all the time. As we speak."
This comment caused John to dissolve in more gales of laughter. "As we speak, eh, Bern? Millions? Well, let's see..." He looked around the room. "What about that armchair, Bern? I could sort of brace myself against it, couldn't I, and you could..."
"All right. Quick, then."
They moved to the armchair. John braced himself.
"Hmm, that's better."
"Ah, John, are you..." Bernard said, peering at John exposing himself. "You are, you do seem... It does seem awfully tight. I'm not sure..."
"Aren't you meant to, you know... stretch it a bit."
"Ah, yes, of course. Good thinking, John." Bernard covered his fingers in lube and gingerly applied them to John's small opening.
"You've got to... No, a bit more, Bern... Ahh, that's it, Bern..."
"Hold on, don't slip."
"I'm not. Christ."
Bernard was swirling his fingers around quite fast now, probing, digging deeper with each swirl while pressing his thumb against John's perineum. John tried to enjoy it but couldn't help feeling that the whole thing was kind of clinical.
"Do you think that's enough now, John?"
"How the fuck would I know, Bern? Feels good, though. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well, you know."
"Haven't you ever done this before, either?"
"What, being fingered? No, Bern, to tell you the truth, I haven't. Have you?"
"Well, not as such..."
"Not as such? Shit, Bern, you old bugger, you've been getting up to more than I gave you credit for with that young Karl."
"Wasn't with Karl, John. But now..."
"What, not with Karl? You've got me all curious now. But let's talk about that later."
"Yes, we'll have some tales to tell, won't we?"
"But now, let's get going. Let's do this properly. Pull your fingers out, Bern."
John laughed at his own joke, and Bernard chuckled and did pull his fingers out. John watched as Bernard positioned himself against John. He observed Bernard's intent expression, eyebrows in a V-shape, mouth turned down at the edges, and he felt the head of Bernard's cock push against him, push harder, push into him. John gasped. It was an entirely new sensation, to have something pushing into him there. Bernard didn't push far, just past the first ring of muscles, then he stopped, breathing hard. John breathed, too; he tried to make his breathing regular and even but it was difficult, it was much too fast and shallow. Then Bernard started to push again.
"Christ!" John cried out.
"What?" asked Bernard. "Is that all right?"
"It's fucking painful, that's what it is. Jesus."
"All right. I'm stopping, John. I'll come out now."
"No, no, fuck, Bern." John clutched Bernard's arm. "Can't stop now. We've come this far. Let's go through with it. Christ, there must be something to this. Right? Otherwise, why would all those millions of men bother, eh?" He laughed, and winced as Bernard slid in a bit further.
"Well, *I* can see why," gasped Bernard.
"Can you, Bern? What does it feel like? Tell me, Bern."
"It feels incredible, John. It feels fantastically erotic. You feel... just..."
"Show me, Bern. Put your hand round me and show me what it feels like for you. Hmm... mmm... that tight, eh? And only up to there? Aren't you in any more than that?"
"No. I can't seem to... I can't get any further in. Things seem to be blocked. I'm stuck."
"How can you be stuck? This is, what, this is my bloody intestine, isn't it? That's miles long, right? It doesn't just stop!"
"I know, John. Actually, if you don't mind, I'd rather not think too much about your intestine right now, John."
"Yeah, right. I see what you mean. There's got to be some way... Shit, ow." John flinched.
"Sorry, John. Maybe if you shift a bit? That's it. That's a bit better."
John flinched again as Bernard worked himself in further. He felt his muscles tensing around Bernard's cock. Bernard felt impossibly huge. The whole enterprise seemed impossibly difficult. John tried breathing deeply again; he tried to let himself go. After a few deep breaths, it felt as if there was another ring of muscles giving way. Bernard was nudging past it and was moving around deep, deep inside John. John felt full, fuller than he would have believed probable. He tried to relax into the fullness but it was hard.
"Are you in, Bern?" he gasped. "Christ, you feel as if you're in."
"God, ah, John, yes, yes," Bernard moaned. "This isn't nice for you at all?"
"It's all right, Bern," said John through clenched teeth.
"What, just all right?" said Bernard, catching his breath. "That's no good, is it? Look, we can't go on. This feels wonderful to me but it's no good if you're not enjoying it."
"No, Bern. I told you, we're not stopping. There must be something... Isn't there supposed to be some sort of gland or something?"
"Yes, I've heard of that. I've got no idea where it is, though. Really, John, we're grown adults; you'd have thought we could do better than this."
"Ow, don't make me laugh. Come on, just give us a kiss, Bern."
The truth was, John simply loved kissing Bernard. John loved the way that Bernard stroked his tongue in long, wet caresses, and the way Bernard's beard rasped against his lips, and the way Bernard idly leant into a kiss, the way he kissed almost absentmindedly, mocking John's own intensity with lazy swirling movements. All of Bernard was in those kisses, Bernard's essence, and John loved Bernard's essence.
So they kissed, deeply, lazily, intensely. John felt himself relax somewhat under the kissing, and Bernard started to move around inside him, in and out, finding his bearings. After a while, Bernard whispered, "Why don't you shift a bit upwards?" So John moved his body down into the armchair but swivelled his hips upwards, and Bernard adjusted his position, and then something happened.
"Hmmm. God, Christ, fuck, Bern. What was that?" John cried out. But it wasn't a cry of pain this time.
"What? What was what?"
"That! That! Oh, Bern, do that again."
"That?"
"Oh, God, Bern, that's heavenly. Again..." John gasped and clutched Bernard's shoulder.
"Ah, John, this is... I'm really fucking you now."
"Hmmm... Jesus. God, don't stop Bern."
"I'm fucking you, John. And I'm going to fuck you till you come... ahh..."
They stopped talking. They were just moving now. Moving and kissing, then gasping, gasping into each other's open mouths. Bernard's fingers around John's cock, John's eyes glazing over, hair damp on foreheads, hair damp on chests, thrusting against the armchair. Bernard moaning, long and deep. John's mouth opening in breathless, helpless gasps, John clutching onto Bernard's hips, and then closing his eyes because a sharp sensation was building up inside his guts. A bright, sharp sensation, blindingly intense, as bright and sharp as the tiny, bright point of a needle, sharpening up into unbearable light and heat, piercing him, piercing his groin and his brain and a place behind his forehead, between his eyes. John couldn't even groan, he couldn't moan, he couldn't hear or see, he just floated in this nowhere space as the bright, sharp needlepoint took hold of him, took hold of all of his body. And when the brightness got unbearable, when it got too sharp and small and keen, it suddenly lurched and dissolved and spread through his entire body in one long wave. And now he could groan, now he couldn't stop groaning, or trembling, as the waves coursed through his limbs and veins, made his fingertips tingle and his toes sting, made the hair on his head stand up and made him throw back his head and let out groan after groan.
He was still clutching Bernard's hips, and his rectum was clutching Bernard's cock, and there was come all over his belly, slithering against Bernard's skin. John looked at Bernard, heard Bernard moaning. Bernard was shuddering against John, shuddering into John, Bernard's eyebrows pulling downwards, Bernard's lips pursing in that familiar way. God, how John had missed those lips, pursing at the very height of orgasm. Still trembling, John reached for Bernard's mouth, sought out his tongue, whimpered into Bernard's mouth, pulled Bernard to him, his hand pressed against Bernard's nape, Bernard's sweat-slick nape. They were kissing, brokenly and not fully focussed, minds too blurry, tongues too weak, they were sliding off the chair, on the floor now, kissing, gasping.
"Christ almighty," John finally managed to get out. "God, Bern, that was..."
"It was," gasped Bernard. "God, it was. Why have we never..."
"Beyond me, Bern. Can't believe I waited to be over fifty to discover..."
"Men, John? To discover men?"
"No, not men," murmured John. "You, Bern. Just you."
------
The End.
Title: Life After Virginity
Part: 1b/1
Author: Lobelia; lobelia321@aol.com
Other info: See Part 1a/1
-------------
"How shall I..." he said, his voice thick with desire and anticipation.
"I don't know, John. If you lift up your legs, maybe..." suggested Bernard, sounding a tiny bit breathless.
"All right. Just... No, that's no good. I'll do my back in like this."
"Or if you turn around? Lean over? Ah, no, hang on, *I'll* do my back in if you're leaning over like that."
"Christ, Bern, we're getting too old for this."
"Rubbish, John. Millions of men our age are doing this all the time. As we speak."
This comment caused John to dissolve in more gales of laughter. "As we speak, eh, Bern? Millions? Well, let's see..." He looked around the room. "What about that armchair, Bern? I could sort of brace myself against it, couldn't I, and you could..."
"All right. Quick, then."
They moved to the armchair. John braced himself.
"Hmm, that's better."
"Ah, John, are you..." Bernard said, peering at John exposing himself. "You are, you do seem... It does seem awfully tight. I'm not sure..."
"Aren't you meant to, you know... stretch it a bit."
"Ah, yes, of course. Good thinking, John." Bernard covered his fingers in lube and gingerly applied them to John's small opening.
"You've got to... No, a bit more, Bern... Ahh, that's it, Bern..."
"Hold on, don't slip."
"I'm not. Christ."
Bernard was swirling his fingers around quite fast now, probing, digging deeper with each swirl while pressing his thumb against John's perineum. John tried to enjoy it but couldn't help feeling that the whole thing was kind of clinical.
"Do you think that's enough now, John?"
"How the fuck would I know, Bern? Feels good, though. Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well, you know."
"Haven't you ever done this before, either?"
"What, being fingered? No, Bern, to tell you the truth, I haven't. Have you?"
"Well, not as such..."
"Not as such? Shit, Bern, you old bugger, you've been getting up to more than I gave you credit for with that young Karl."
"Wasn't with Karl, John. But now..."
"What, not with Karl? You've got me all curious now. But let's talk about that later."
"Yes, we'll have some tales to tell, won't we?"
"But now, let's get going. Let's do this properly. Pull your fingers out, Bern."
John laughed at his own joke, and Bernard chuckled and did pull his fingers out. John watched as Bernard positioned himself against John. He observed Bernard's intent expression, eyebrows in a V-shape, mouth turned down at the edges, and he felt the head of Bernard's cock push against him, push harder, push into him. John gasped. It was an entirely new sensation, to have something pushing into him there. Bernard didn't push far, just past the first ring of muscles, then he stopped, breathing hard. John breathed, too; he tried to make his breathing regular and even but it was difficult, it was much too fast and shallow. Then Bernard started to push again.
"Christ!" John cried out.
"What?" asked Bernard. "Is that all right?"
"It's fucking painful, that's what it is. Jesus."
"All right. I'm stopping, John. I'll come out now."
"No, no, fuck, Bern." John clutched Bernard's arm. "Can't stop now. We've come this far. Let's go through with it. Christ, there must be something to this. Right? Otherwise, why would all those millions of men bother, eh?" He laughed, and winced as Bernard slid in a bit further.
"Well, *I* can see why," gasped Bernard.
"Can you, Bern? What does it feel like? Tell me, Bern."
"It feels incredible, John. It feels fantastically erotic. You feel... just..."
"Show me, Bern. Put your hand round me and show me what it feels like for you. Hmm... mmm... that tight, eh? And only up to there? Aren't you in any more than that?"
"No. I can't seem to... I can't get any further in. Things seem to be blocked. I'm stuck."
"How can you be stuck? This is, what, this is my bloody intestine, isn't it? That's miles long, right? It doesn't just stop!"
"I know, John. Actually, if you don't mind, I'd rather not think too much about your intestine right now, John."
"Yeah, right. I see what you mean. There's got to be some way... Shit, ow." John flinched.
"Sorry, John. Maybe if you shift a bit? That's it. That's a bit better."
John flinched again as Bernard worked himself in further. He felt his muscles tensing around Bernard's cock. Bernard felt impossibly huge. The whole enterprise seemed impossibly difficult. John tried breathing deeply again; he tried to let himself go. After a few deep breaths, it felt as if there was another ring of muscles giving way. Bernard was nudging past it and was moving around deep, deep inside John. John felt full, fuller than he would have believed probable. He tried to relax into the fullness but it was hard.
"Are you in, Bern?" he gasped. "Christ, you feel as if you're in."
"God, ah, John, yes, yes," Bernard moaned. "This isn't nice for you at all?"
"It's all right, Bern," said John through clenched teeth.
"What, just all right?" said Bernard, catching his breath. "That's no good, is it? Look, we can't go on. This feels wonderful to me but it's no good if you're not enjoying it."
"No, Bern. I told you, we're not stopping. There must be something... Isn't there supposed to be some sort of gland or something?"
"Yes, I've heard of that. I've got no idea where it is, though. Really, John, we're grown adults; you'd have thought we could do better than this."
"Ow, don't make me laugh. Come on, just give us a kiss, Bern."
The truth was, John simply loved kissing Bernard. John loved the way that Bernard stroked his tongue in long, wet caresses, and the way Bernard's beard rasped against his lips, and the way Bernard idly leant into a kiss, the way he kissed almost absentmindedly, mocking John's own intensity with lazy swirling movements. All of Bernard was in those kisses, Bernard's essence, and John loved Bernard's essence.
So they kissed, deeply, lazily, intensely. John felt himself relax somewhat under the kissing, and Bernard started to move around inside him, in and out, finding his bearings. After a while, Bernard whispered, "Why don't you shift a bit upwards?" So John moved his body down into the armchair but swivelled his hips upwards, and Bernard adjusted his position, and then something happened.
"Hmmm. God, Christ, fuck, Bern. What was that?" John cried out. But it wasn't a cry of pain this time.
"What? What was what?"
"That! That! Oh, Bern, do that again."
"That?"
"Oh, God, Bern, that's heavenly. Again..." John gasped and clutched Bernard's shoulder.
"Ah, John, this is... I'm really fucking you now."
"Hmmm... Jesus. God, don't stop Bern."
"I'm fucking you, John. And I'm going to fuck you till you come... ahh..."
They stopped talking. They were just moving now. Moving and kissing, then gasping, gasping into each other's open mouths. Bernard's fingers around John's cock, John's eyes glazing over, hair damp on foreheads, hair damp on chests, thrusting against the armchair. Bernard moaning, long and deep. John's mouth opening in breathless, helpless gasps, John clutching onto Bernard's hips, and then closing his eyes because a sharp sensation was building up inside his guts. A bright, sharp sensation, blindingly intense, as bright and sharp as the tiny, bright point of a needle, sharpening up into unbearable light and heat, piercing him, piercing his groin and his brain and a place behind his forehead, between his eyes. John couldn't even groan, he couldn't moan, he couldn't hear or see, he just floated in this nowhere space as the bright, sharp needlepoint took hold of him, took hold of all of his body. And when the brightness got unbearable, when it got too sharp and small and keen, it suddenly lurched and dissolved and spread through his entire body in one long wave. And now he could groan, now he couldn't stop groaning, or trembling, as the waves coursed through his limbs and veins, made his fingertips tingle and his toes sting, made the hair on his head stand up and made him throw back his head and let out groan after groan.
He was still clutching Bernard's hips, and his rectum was clutching Bernard's cock, and there was come all over his belly, slithering against Bernard's skin. John looked at Bernard, heard Bernard moaning. Bernard was shuddering against John, shuddering into John, Bernard's eyebrows pulling downwards, Bernard's lips pursing in that familiar way. God, how John had missed those lips, pursing at the very height of orgasm. Still trembling, John reached for Bernard's mouth, sought out his tongue, whimpered into Bernard's mouth, pulled Bernard to him, his hand pressed against Bernard's nape, Bernard's sweat-slick nape. They were kissing, brokenly and not fully focussed, minds too blurry, tongues too weak, they were sliding off the chair, on the floor now, kissing, gasping.
"Christ almighty," John finally managed to get out. "God, Bern, that was..."
"It was," gasped Bernard. "God, it was. Why have we never..."
"Beyond me, Bern. Can't believe I waited to be over fifty to discover..."
"Men, John? To discover men?"
"No, not men," murmured John. "You, Bern. Just you."
------
The End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Men...
Date: 2002-05-29 09:42 am (UTC)The Old Men are just so - hmm, sweet is the wrong word, really, but they are nice; non-slushy, yet tender. Yes, that's it. And the dialogue while they were, er, 'experimenting' was just too funny (and sounded like me trying to work out my smut in my head: 'If that goes there...')
And now, something completely different
Date: 2002-05-29 02:29 pm (UTC)Re: And now, something completely different
Date: 2002-05-30 04:17 am (UTC)Re: Men...
Date: 2002-05-30 04:16 am (UTC)But yes, what goes where... This fic arose out of my 45 minutes spent in the Gay and Lesbian section of Borders the other day (week? month?), and yes, ahem, I learnt some interesting things there.
But you are so kind to like my Manly Men. See, these are the *real* manly ones!
damn you!
Date: 2002-05-29 11:11 am (UTC)(thanks for posting your story)
Re: damn you!
Date: 2002-05-30 04:19 am (UTC)And thank you for liking my little fluffy offering. These lovely men do grow on you, don't they? *sigh*
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-29 02:33 pm (UTC)Virgins like Romeo and Juliet? Heh heh. Excellent.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-30 04:20 am (UTC)And yes, Romeo and Juliet -- that goes back to their *first kiss*, of course, in an earlier story of Slashspearean goodness, *g*.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-29 03:31 pm (UTC)This was just...*sighs*...I must have a thing for geezers, cause this was so lovely. The banter, the love, the emotions *sighs again*
Should really ponder my own KarlBernard, but I'm a bit swamped right now with things.
In the meantime, let's hear it for *your* OTP!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-30 04:22 am (UTC)Yes, *sigh*, geezers, oldsters, twee sluts, just gimme, gimme, gimme.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-29 10:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-30 04:24 am (UTC)Ooh, yes, and I'm so glad I'm converting you to the oldster, *sigh*, aren't they lovely? And they are so smutty; they made me blush writing this down.
(no subject)
Date: 2002-05-30 08:44 am (UTC)And yeah, for such lovely, polite gentlemen, they *are* terribly smutty. I'm shocked! I'm sure they loved making you blush, though. *gg*
Splendid!
Date: 2002-05-30 04:19 am (UTC)But yes: you now have to write about how John was lonely without Bernard. And if it wasn't Karl, who was it?
You tease.
Re: Splendid!
Date: 2002-05-30 04:55 am (UTC)And if it wasn't Karl, who was it?
Hah, I would have thought you of all people would hazard a guess! Just think fps cross-over, *g*. And it was Karl and this other person, of course. Not either or.
You'll be glad to know, btw, that Bill, Ben and Little Weed are with my lovely beta
How's that hangover of yours? Hahahahah!
Re: Splendid!
Date: 2002-05-30 04:56 am (UTC)Re: Splendid!
Date: 2002-05-30 06:33 am (UTC)And yes, I think I have John's options sorted out.
Shall look forward immensely to the Flowerpot Men!
And the hangover is pretty grim (soothed whenever I see pictures of Viggo, though). Thank you for asking! You must come out to play some time.