Word count: 1,137
Summary: Jeeves has his way…with Bertie. And Bertie has fun, too. Total PWP.
Author's Notes: This bit into my brain stem while I was in the process of writing another J/W story, to which I shall now return and try to complete. Many thanks to kalimyre for an early reading and opinions. *bats my sapphire blue eyes at her* Special thanks, as always, to my own beta queen skyblue_reverie for keeping my writing honest and true to the characters. Without question, this is a 100-percent-better story because of her. *mwah!*
Disclaimer: No ownership claimed, just tons and tons of love for the characters and equal amounts of respect for their creator.
I stood in the doorway drinking in the sight of him. Whatever his other abundant talents, Mr. Wooster has a much-appreciated ability to display his desires in the most beguiling ways. He was already nude and had adopted an altogether tempting position: knees pressed into the duvet covering our bed, sitting on his heels, his back straight. He held his hands on his thighs, mindlessly caressing the muscular flesh. He was silent; his shining azure eyes abundantly expressed his deep longing.
"Beautiful, sir, beautiful," I murmured, and the pale rosiness that already highlighted his cheeks deepened, a reaction I found most stimulating. The contrast of my clothed state to his unclothed one added to my arousal and, eager to feel my flesh on his, I moved to him. Lifting his chin to tilt his head back, I covered his lips with mine. He enthusiastically opened to me; my tongue pushed forward to ravage his mouth. As he attempted to touch me, I grasped and held his hands behind him.
I broke our kiss and pulled down on his wrists. His spine arched, and his head lolled back, granting me freer access to his throat. I lightly dragged the tip of my tongue along his jaw line, then down the side of his neck until I reached the vein pumping hard at his clavicle. I closed my teeth just over the beating flesh; he let out a strangled moan, and his body shuddered. Mr. Wooster's enticing responses inflamed my own excitement deliciously.
I gathered both of his wrists into one of my hands; with the other, I began stroking his torso. Starting at his larynx, I lightly traced two fingers in a straight line down to his navel. I drew two or three dilatory circles there, then returned to my starting point by dragging my fingernails over the previously limned path.
I bent my head, and he uttered a ragged "ohhhhhhhhh" just as my mouth closed over his left nipple. Lightly holding the succulent morsel between my teeth, I flicked my tongue, drawing even more guttural sounds from him. I continued in this manner for some time, fondling him with my fingers and mouth, languidly at first then gradually becoming more insistent. His respirations shallowed except for the occasional deep breath he would intake just before letting out a low moan, which blended with my own throaty undertones of passion.
I had been standing slightly to his left side; I now moved directly in front of his kneeling form and, keeping his arms pinned behind him, pressed my body against his. By this time he was writhing shamelessly, making small recurrent mewling noises, and I could feel that he had become fully hard as his erection brushed against the fabric of my trousers. Moving his wrists to rest on his right hip and reaching my free hand around behind him, I alternately squeezed and rubbed his buttocks with my palm, building warmth with the friction.
The underlying muscles were firm while the covering flesh was soft and pliant under my hand. I flexed my wrist back and snapped it quickly, resulting in a sharp stinging whack. He gasped and instinctively steeled himself for the next blow. I had never taken this liberty before, but when I repeated the action, he rewarded me with another sharp intake of breath immediately followed by my name uttered in a deep contented moan.
I delivered three more strikes in rapid succession. Mr. Wooster now leaned into the blows, eagerly anticipating them. After two more, I manoeuvered myself to see the effect and was gratified by the deep pink hue that now coloured his buttocks. I lightly caressed the flesh, somewhat surprised by the heat I felt emanating from him.
I moved my ministrations to his back, which is extremely sensitive to touch and never moreso than when he reaches a particular state of arousal. As I lightly ran my fingertips up and down his spine, his squirming increased, and I could feel him trying desperately to free his hands from mine. I refused to grant him release; rather, I tightened my hold on his wrists.
"Please, Jeeves, I want…I need to touch you."
I smiled inwardly, most appreciative of his passion. "Not yet, sir. Soon, but not at this time."
He whined his response, and I ground my mouth on his in an impassioned kiss. He thrust his hips against my leg, and I felt dampness on the fabric covering my skin. I reached my free hand to grasp him, enjoying the firmness of his length, and administered a few squeezing strokes.
"Oh, yes, Jeeves, more…more…harder…" he mumbled into my mouth.
I answered by letting go of him, and his frustration was palpable, but his only comment was a deep moan. I touched the tip of him, causing him to inhale deeply. I lightly rubbed the slit with my finger, wiping away some of the moisture that had formed. I lifted my digit to his mouth, and he sucked greedily, licking my skin clean. I repeated the action, and when he had once again completely removed his essence from my flesh, I resumed kissing him deeply and passionately. I tasted him in his mouth, and my tongue insistently probed to ensure I had found all trace of his fluid.
Mr. Wooster was beside himself with desire, and I knew that he was nearing the point of painful desperation. I reached behind him again, administered three forceful spanks to his buttocks, then took his length in my hand, squeezing and pumping. He maintained a steady stream of moans, sighs, and grunts as I tugged on him, gradually increasing speed and pressure.
He managed to pant out, "Now, Jeeves…oh, Jeeves… I'm going to…now...now…!"
I gave him a deft twist or two and crushed my lips to his. Almost instantly he spilled himself over my fist. His release lasted somewhat longer than usual, and when he was fully spent, he slumped against me, weak as a kitten.
I released his wrists at last and removed a handerkerchief from my trouser pocket. I cleaned myself of almost all his seed; the rest he licked from my hand when I lifted it to his mouth. After he thoroughly cleansed my flesh with his tongue, I sat on the bed and opened my arms to him. My employer gratefully lay down beside me and melted into my embrace with an contented sigh.
I was hard and aching for release, but I would be patient. There would be time for my own gratification, for me to take my satisfaction from him. But I would wait, pleased for now to savour his bliss as he gradually returned from his climactic haze.
Brief minutes later, I felt his hands reach to unbutton my shirt. My patience would not long go unrewarded.