ds porn for nifra
25/3/04 22:20![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
schmericaWritten for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nifra_idril and the page of Nif appreciation, the aforementioned gratuitous smut.
*****
One of the extra side effects of the break-up -- along with the pain and humiliation and aimless disbelief and all that stuff -- one of the other lucky things Ray got out of the whole break-up was the horniness. Going from getting laid pretty regular for twenty years to all of a sudden nothing at all, ever, left you feeling frustrated. Really frustrated, like you were about to pop all day. Every day.
On the other hand, the experience was at least giving Ray one hell of a fantasy life. Details, scenarios, elaborate sexual adventures -- Ray had a whole arsenal of the things. He and his right hand were *buddies*.
The first rule of fantasies was that they didn't *mean* anything. Like if you got off once or twice on someone tying you up and calling you Daddy -- that didn't mean you really wanted that. It was just getting off.
Which was the other thing, too, kind of, because it didn't matter that the fantasies weren't ever going to be real. Because that wasn't the point. Ray *knew* he wasn't ever gonna do it doggy-style with a Russian supermodel, but it didn't matter. It was still hot to think about.
So the fantasy Ray'd been getting the most mileage out of lately -- it didn't mean anything either, and god knew it wasn't something that was ever gonna happen. Actually, it was pretty much a series of one never-gonna-happen-in-a-million-years after another.
It began like this, with Ray getting real comfy on his bed. Stretch out a little, get cozy, start getting ready. Let his hand and his dick make friends again and let his mind start to wander.
It started at the station. Some big case, everything fallen together, they've all kicked ass and put bad guys away, they're in a good mood. Stella is, even, talking and smiling with Ray just like old times, and then she invites him and Fraser back to her apartment for some drinks to celebrate.
Ray thought of that as "nuh-uh" thing number one. Number two follows it right along, when Fraser doesn't go into his no-drinking spiel or no thank her kindly, when he says *yes* instead.
Usually once he got them to Stella's place, Ray pretty much lost track of the impossible things going on.
He figured Stella puts on an album when they got there, something nice, and the three of them sit around her kitchen table. Stella on one side of Ray, Fraser on the other. And then there's drinking, loosening up -- Stella is tipsy and giggly and fun, and Fraser could just let it go, maybe. The two of them start flirting, real subtle so most people wouldn't notice, but dead obvious to Ray, because he knows them. Ray isn't jealous, though, not like this, because Stella's hanging all over him and Fraser's hand is kneading his thigh under the table.
The next part got a little boring, so Ray usually skimmed a little to get to the good parts. Stella and Fraser exchanging this knowing sneaky look, and then the three of them are in the bedroom.
Stella and Fraser have it together -- they're organized, they got a plan -- taking turns kissing Ray and stripping off his clothes.
When he's naked, they push him down to sit on the bed, and then Ray watches while they kiss each other.
Stella's little and blond and fragile and Fraser's dark and solid and strong and they wrap around each other just right, like they fit, perfect elegant groomed puzzle pieces.
When they break apart, they both smile at Ray, and then Fraser is on the floor and Stella's on the bed. Stella climbs behind Ray, wrapping her arms around his chest, pressing her tits to his back and licking his ear, while Fraser just puts his hands on Ray's thighs and leans in to lick his cock.
And it's good then, amazing-type good, cause Stella, Stella knows exactly what makes Ray tick after all these years, and Fraser, his mouth is huge and hot and wet and he's moving just the way Ray likes it. (It's Ray's fantasy. In Ray's fantasy Fraser can be a cocksucker *galore*. Fraser's good at everything, anyway. If he ever did take to cocksucking, Ray wouldn't be surprised if he was a champion at it.)
It was about here that real life Ray would start getting really far gone, his dick slicking his hand as he found his favorite sweet familiar rhythm for his strokes. He'd bring his other hand down to cup his balls and let the scene change a little.
Both Fraser and Stella are moving off away from him, but it's okay, because they're back real quick. Only different now, because Ray's on his back further down the bed. Stella straddles him, grinning down at him with this wicked look, and then she takes Ray's cock in her hand and closes her eyes and lowers herself onto him.
Ray's got a perfect view, Stella's happy-looking face and her pretty little tits and the whole gorgeous length of her down to where they're slammed together, where he's buried deep inside her tight wet body. He puts his hands on her hips to steady her, and Stella throws her head back and starts moving, rocking on him slow and careful. He can barely move, and he's just watching, all frozen with pleasure, even as she brings one hand down all the way to start stroking at her clit.
It's all good, it's great, but it gets even better, because this is when Fraser enters the picture again, lying down all alongside Ray. He sets one hand down, wide over Ray's chest, and Ray turns his head to meet the kiss that's coming. Fraser's eager and hot and he kisses like he's hungry and there's nothing, nothing on earth he'd rather be doing than devouring Ray's mouth right now, like there's nowhere he'd rather be than in this bed. And Stella's still going, fucking herself down on Ray faster and faster and making all these breathy little gasps -- and this is usually where it would end, with real life Ray spurting all his own hand and belly and anything else around.
Sometimes, though, sometimes he liked to draw it out. He'd make himself wait for it, slowing down and teasing himself with the next scene he had plotted out. This was the one where he lays off to the side and watches Fraser and Stella turn to each *other*. Kissing kinda shy at first, but then going for it -- Fraser eating Stella out, Fraser fucking her against the mattress slow and steady and intense. Fucking each other like they both just fucked Ray, and then when they both turn their heads they're looking right at him, into him, and Stella reaches out one hand and Fraser chokes out his name--
--and Ray was gone gone *gone*, shaking and coming hard till he was a wrung-out heap all still on the bed.
After that he'd clean himself off and go to sleep, or maybe get himself together and go take a shower and get himself together for work, nice and relaxed and cool, ready to face the day without whacking somebody or humping their legs.
So fantasies were good things, even if they weren't ever going to happen. Even -- no, *especially* because they didn't mean anything.
nifra_idril and the page of Nif appreciation, the aforementioned gratuitous smut. *****
One of the extra side effects of the break-up -- along with the pain and humiliation and aimless disbelief and all that stuff -- one of the other lucky things Ray got out of the whole break-up was the horniness. Going from getting laid pretty regular for twenty years to all of a sudden nothing at all, ever, left you feeling frustrated. Really frustrated, like you were about to pop all day. Every day.
On the other hand, the experience was at least giving Ray one hell of a fantasy life. Details, scenarios, elaborate sexual adventures -- Ray had a whole arsenal of the things. He and his right hand were *buddies*.
The first rule of fantasies was that they didn't *mean* anything. Like if you got off once or twice on someone tying you up and calling you Daddy -- that didn't mean you really wanted that. It was just getting off.
Which was the other thing, too, kind of, because it didn't matter that the fantasies weren't ever going to be real. Because that wasn't the point. Ray *knew* he wasn't ever gonna do it doggy-style with a Russian supermodel, but it didn't matter. It was still hot to think about.
So the fantasy Ray'd been getting the most mileage out of lately -- it didn't mean anything either, and god knew it wasn't something that was ever gonna happen. Actually, it was pretty much a series of one never-gonna-happen-in-a-million-years after another.
It began like this, with Ray getting real comfy on his bed. Stretch out a little, get cozy, start getting ready. Let his hand and his dick make friends again and let his mind start to wander.
It started at the station. Some big case, everything fallen together, they've all kicked ass and put bad guys away, they're in a good mood. Stella is, even, talking and smiling with Ray just like old times, and then she invites him and Fraser back to her apartment for some drinks to celebrate.
Ray thought of that as "nuh-uh" thing number one. Number two follows it right along, when Fraser doesn't go into his no-drinking spiel or no thank her kindly, when he says *yes* instead.
Usually once he got them to Stella's place, Ray pretty much lost track of the impossible things going on.
He figured Stella puts on an album when they got there, something nice, and the three of them sit around her kitchen table. Stella on one side of Ray, Fraser on the other. And then there's drinking, loosening up -- Stella is tipsy and giggly and fun, and Fraser could just let it go, maybe. The two of them start flirting, real subtle so most people wouldn't notice, but dead obvious to Ray, because he knows them. Ray isn't jealous, though, not like this, because Stella's hanging all over him and Fraser's hand is kneading his thigh under the table.
The next part got a little boring, so Ray usually skimmed a little to get to the good parts. Stella and Fraser exchanging this knowing sneaky look, and then the three of them are in the bedroom.
Stella and Fraser have it together -- they're organized, they got a plan -- taking turns kissing Ray and stripping off his clothes.
When he's naked, they push him down to sit on the bed, and then Ray watches while they kiss each other.
Stella's little and blond and fragile and Fraser's dark and solid and strong and they wrap around each other just right, like they fit, perfect elegant groomed puzzle pieces.
When they break apart, they both smile at Ray, and then Fraser is on the floor and Stella's on the bed. Stella climbs behind Ray, wrapping her arms around his chest, pressing her tits to his back and licking his ear, while Fraser just puts his hands on Ray's thighs and leans in to lick his cock.
And it's good then, amazing-type good, cause Stella, Stella knows exactly what makes Ray tick after all these years, and Fraser, his mouth is huge and hot and wet and he's moving just the way Ray likes it. (It's Ray's fantasy. In Ray's fantasy Fraser can be a cocksucker *galore*. Fraser's good at everything, anyway. If he ever did take to cocksucking, Ray wouldn't be surprised if he was a champion at it.)
It was about here that real life Ray would start getting really far gone, his dick slicking his hand as he found his favorite sweet familiar rhythm for his strokes. He'd bring his other hand down to cup his balls and let the scene change a little.
Both Fraser and Stella are moving off away from him, but it's okay, because they're back real quick. Only different now, because Ray's on his back further down the bed. Stella straddles him, grinning down at him with this wicked look, and then she takes Ray's cock in her hand and closes her eyes and lowers herself onto him.
Ray's got a perfect view, Stella's happy-looking face and her pretty little tits and the whole gorgeous length of her down to where they're slammed together, where he's buried deep inside her tight wet body. He puts his hands on her hips to steady her, and Stella throws her head back and starts moving, rocking on him slow and careful. He can barely move, and he's just watching, all frozen with pleasure, even as she brings one hand down all the way to start stroking at her clit.
It's all good, it's great, but it gets even better, because this is when Fraser enters the picture again, lying down all alongside Ray. He sets one hand down, wide over Ray's chest, and Ray turns his head to meet the kiss that's coming. Fraser's eager and hot and he kisses like he's hungry and there's nothing, nothing on earth he'd rather be doing than devouring Ray's mouth right now, like there's nowhere he'd rather be than in this bed. And Stella's still going, fucking herself down on Ray faster and faster and making all these breathy little gasps -- and this is usually where it would end, with real life Ray spurting all his own hand and belly and anything else around.
Sometimes, though, sometimes he liked to draw it out. He'd make himself wait for it, slowing down and teasing himself with the next scene he had plotted out. This was the one where he lays off to the side and watches Fraser and Stella turn to each *other*. Kissing kinda shy at first, but then going for it -- Fraser eating Stella out, Fraser fucking her against the mattress slow and steady and intense. Fucking each other like they both just fucked Ray, and then when they both turn their heads they're looking right at him, into him, and Stella reaches out one hand and Fraser chokes out his name--
--and Ray was gone gone *gone*, shaking and coming hard till he was a wrung-out heap all still on the bed.
After that he'd clean himself off and go to sleep, or maybe get himself together and go take a shower and get himself together for work, nice and relaxed and cool, ready to face the day without whacking somebody or humping their legs.
So fantasies were good things, even if they weren't ever going to happen. Even -- no, *especially* because they didn't mean anything.
