There are religious opinions and propositions that many may find offensive.
Quote from chapter:
He didn’t top often, but right now he felt the need, the need to ...
to be in Dom, to imprison him with his body, to affirm
that he had this right. Opening the bottle, he spread lotion
on himself, then on Dom. Lavishly, messily, down Dom’s
crack. The Crack of Dom, they called it jokingly.
Rated: Series: NC-17 or E, Chapter 17: E, NC-17
Series: Non-con sex. Unconsciousness. Threesome, het and slash sex.
Toward the end there's some philosophy.
Contains opinions, assumptions and situations that some might find offensive.
Medical issues are based on my experience with frostbite, information from the internet, and common sense. They are pretty much correct, but I have ignored a thing or two. It is, however, a whole lot more accurate than "Forever Young."
This is entirely written, so you don't need to worry about whether it gets finished. However, while I certainly appreciate that not everyone gives feedback to every chapter (including me), if I don't get much of any positive feedback, I will probably lose interest in posting.
Type: RP het/slash
Disclaimer: This is fiction. And not intended even to be wise. While some of these characters may be based on real people, I don't personally know them. I made it all up out of my perverted little head.
No, I don't make any money at this.
Archive: No, please.
Feedback: Please feed me. Praise is lovely. Constructive criticism is valued. If you find nothing of value in it, though, please don't bother telling me. You wouldn't be the first person.
Beta: The wonderful elfellon111.
A DomLijah Story
If You Haven’t Tried It, ...
Elijah was still sleeping, and Ellen went around the bed to ‘her’ side. Slipping her nightgown off, she climbed in, nestled up against him, as Dom did from the other side. Dom cuddled in and stretched an arm across, but rather to Ellen’s surprise, his hand ended up on her shoulder.
"Hey," he grinned at her. "Your skin is almost as soft as Elijah’s."
She grinned back. "I work at it."
Dom stroked her arm a bit, then raised up on an elbow, looked down at Elijah’s sleeping form. "Loving him together," he said, "is not so bad."
Ellen wondered where he was going with this, but Elijah suddenly exploded into action, scrambling on top of Dom, pinning him down and tickling him. Ellen joined their laughter, delighted, privileged, to watch this interaction.
Dom rolled over suddenly, toppling them both onto the floor and getting the upper hand. Ellen stopped laughing, arrested by the sight of Elijah squirming and struggling, gasping for breath through his laughter.
"Dom, Dom, stop," he gasped. "I gotta pee."
Dom reluctantly stood up, watched as Elijah went out, his laughter turned to a bout of coughing; then he turned to look at Ellen. There was something in that look she couldn’t interpret, a hesitancy, uncertainty. There’s something still unsaid, she thought. He smiled, a crooked, shy smile, cocking his head to one side, and suddenly she knew.
He’s figured out a way to punish Lij. But was she going to go along with it? She had not had any particular desire for Dom; was it right to just use sex in this way? She lay back, looking at him, which he seemed to interpret as a reason to come closer to her. He knelt on the bed. He seemed to be trying to keep a pleasant smile, but emotions played with the corners of his lips, with the look in his eyes. Working himself up to desiring her, fearing rejection; she almost laughed. Would he even be able to get it up? But laughing at him seemed a very cruel thing to do. He was so cute, so sweet.
And suddenly she did want him. Wanted to complete the third leg of the triangle. Wanted to share the love that Elijah had for his Sbloms.
But again, was it right to allow him to use sex to get back at Elijah? Even as she asked that of herself, she could hear own words replaying, "I think you have to stop him from doing that. Or maybe I have to stop him." And she made up her mind.
She reached out for the face coming closer to her, pulled him in for a kiss. Automatically, she pushed her tongue between his lips, explored his teeth, played tag with his tongue. When he tried to reciprocate, she started automatically to resist, but changed her mind. He needs to dominate, she realized. Groaned to herself. That meant him on top. Oh, well.
She heard the door open and close, felt the bed move as another body found a place on it. Concentrate on Dom. Anything else makes this a travesty. She opened her eyes, watched Dom’s eyelid-shuttered face. Sweet, pretty. Having worked up to kissing her, he seemed reluctant to move beyond that, so she moved her hands to his chest, looking for his nipples, exploring softly, caressingly, until she found them; then working fingers around them ‘til they hardened. She was surprised when he suddenly abandoned her mouth to go for her nipple, sucking and biting with an energy that stimulated a defensive reflex. "Careful," she gasped, trying not to shove him away. He let go to glance up at her wide, panicked eyes. She grimaced. "That’s rather sensitive," she said.
"Sorry." He looked totally abashed, then lost himself in coughing again. When he stopped, she pulled his head back to her breast.
"Gently," she said. "Like sucking through a straw." Then as he tried again, she sighed with relief. "Much better," she said. She took his hand and brought it to the other breast, pressing his fingers into the softness. "This feels good, too."
He turned his head, rubbed his cheek against the breast. "So soft," he said.
She saw the hand that went up to Dom’s shoulder, stroked up his neck and behind his ear. She turned her head and smiled tenderly at the young man she loved so much, nd deliberately hurt him. "This is Dom and me," she said, taking his hand off Dom. His confused retreat almost undid her, and she could feel Dom’s attention also turning to Elijah. Can we make it work? With a hand on each side of Dom’s face, she turned his head to meet her eyes, and they looked at each other, exchanging reams of information: Can we do this? Do we want to do this?
But if we do, it has to be about us, not Elijah.
She stroked his face, smoothed back his hair, played with his ear. This is the man Elijah loves! A moment ago, she had discovered a desire for a sweet and charming man; now she found that intensified by this realization. There had to be something special and wonderful about him that Elijah had been drawn to.
And she changed her smile to be only for him.
Elijah watched, trying to figure out what was happening. They had really enjoyed each other, the three of them. Or at least so it had seemed to him. And he had heard Dom’s comment as he was waking up. Loving him together ... It had made him feel so good that he couldn’t keep still, couldn’t keep it within himself, that Dom had accepted that, accepted Ellen. Made it seem somehow less final that morning would come and he would leave this room, these people, Ellen. That he and Dom would go back to their lives as though nothing had happened. As though no new connection had been made. He’s enjoying being loved by both of us. So true. He was. It completed something, somehow.
But now the two of them, without him ... He felt left out, shrugged off. A coat no longer needed thrown carelessly aside. They were connecting without him, and it hurt deeply.
They were smiling at each other, as though he didn’t exist, watching them. Dom ducked his head again to Ellen’s breast, suckled at it as he had himself done when he fell asleep. He wanted to join. Hey, there were two breasts, right? But Ellen’s voice had been firm and resolute. This is Dom and me. He leaned against the wall, arms tight around his knees, and just watched. Dom’s lips should be on his nipple. Dom’s hand should be stroking him. Ellen’s tender kiss to the top of Dom’s head should be for him. He wanted desperately to be in the middle of it, to insert his body between theirs. To feel Dom's familiar tenderness and Ellen's indulgent awe.
He watched as Dom’s long fingers explored lower, combed through the hair of Ellen’s triangle, disappeared between her legs. Ellen’s legs opened, her hips raised to welcome the attention; then she suddenly flipped him to the bed and turned around, sixty-nine, bringing her head to his crotch, putting her own at his disposal, and her back to Elijah. Her upper leg was crooked up, and he could see Dom’s face between her legs. Dom glanced up at him, his expression unreadable, but then he closed his eyes in sudden ecstacy as Ellen pulled a testicle into her mouth. Elijah could see her stroking Dom’s cock, see her mouth working. He also had an excellent view of her snatch, which suddenly arrested his attention. He’d never seen one in real life before, and hadn’t been much interested in looking at pictures. He remembered the feel of it enfolding him, stroking him. And Dom’s fingers were there now, exploring the folds and crevices, sinking into the darkness. Both of them moving, writhing ecstatically, Dom moaning softly, Ellen silent.
Ellen had Dom’s penis in her mouth now, her head moving as she stroked it, then still as she sucked it. Dom froze, eyes closed, head pulled back, fingers still as he forgot outward sensation. Ellen stopped abruptly, flipped back around, lying on her back, pulled at Dom to hint that he get on top. Dom looked at her in a way that suddenly awoke a flare of jealousy in Elijah. That intensity with tenderness and a touch of shyness should be for him alone. But their eyes were locked on each other in a two-way interaction that didn’t allow for anything - anyone - else. Dom moved onto her and she spread her legs wide, almost the same way he would. Dom started to rise up, to see how to position himself, but she pulled him back down close, reached her hand down between them. Elijah could see by her arm movement that she was stroking Dom’s cock, and he wondered spitefully whether Dom was having trouble keeping it hard. And then Ellen’s legs were coming up around Dom’s back, pulling him close. The two of them were still for a moment and Elijah remembered again the feel of that internal stroking, the warm wet tunnel constricting around him. After a moment, Dom began to move, his butt rising and falling rhythmically, slowly.
His Dom. Moving in the dance of love. Fucking. Someone else. Ellen.
He was startled by the feel of a tear landing on his knee. It pulled him out of his wallow. Was he was so self-pitying that he was crying, for fuck’s sake? Did he doubt Dom’s love for him? After all, he had himself done it with Ellen, without Dom...
Suddenly, with a twist of thought, it had a completely different connotation. Ellen and Dom, thrusting together. Dom’s supple body, muscles rippling, dancing. Ellen, loving, receiving, meeting Dom’s moves, arching up against him. Suddenly these two people he loved, moving together, was the sexiest thing in the world.
He watched fascinated as they moved faster and faster, unaware of his own slight humping movement, but remembering Ellen’s hungry rapture as she watched Dom pumping into him.
Dom cried out, his body went stiff, then collapsed. Ellen’s head dug into the bed as her body arched a moment later, but her own climax was silent except for the ragged breathing.
Elijah was so hard it hurt, but he didn’t want to jerk off. It would make him feel silly, feel like, well, like a jerk-off. And Dom was right there. Lying between Ellen’s legs. Yes. Right there. Moving with the grace and speed of a cat, Elijah jumped to the foot of the bed and found the lotion, pounced between Dom’s legs, grasped his hips lest he move away. He didn’t top often, but right now he felt the need, the need to ... to be in Dom, to imprison him with his body, to affirm that he had this right. Opening the bottle, he spread lotion on himself, then on Dom. Lavishly, messily, down Dom’s crack. The Crack of Dom, they called it jokingly.
Realizing that there had been no movement in response to his action, he glanced up at the two heads. Ellen was smiling at him fondly, amusement lighting her eyes, as she held Dom’s head to her, his cheek resting against her breast. Dom was still breathing hard, watching Elijah out of the corner of his eye. As though sensing Elijah’s uncertainty, he raised his hips just slightly, invitingly offering himself.
Elijah knew that Dom needed little preparation, which was good, because he had little patience for it. His fingers probed Dom’s body. His Dom. His to enjoy, to touch, to love. He used some of that excess lotion to spread up Dom’s back, feeling the skin, the warmth, the lithe muscle, massaging a little as Dom squiggled under his hands, just to give him pleasure. Not long though, back to business, fingers sliding around Dom’s smooth, round posterior, spreading the cheeks to find his goal, sliding in a finger and thinking about the feeling of a finger sliding into him. Dom’s long fingers, Ellen’s loving ones. His body was jerking, thinking about it.
Quickly he positioned himself, pushed in impatiently. Dom was smiling; a single grimace and then he was enjoying it. Elijah pumped with little rhythm, just a twitching, frantic motion, his blunt fingers grabbing Dom’s skin, pulling him close. No slow buildup; a primal force, without thought, almost without emotion, though if he could have articulated at that moment, he’d have said that he was lost in a world where only love existed. Love and the need for release. And then suddenly he was caught in it. The rush hit and his body froze as he climbed the crest of it, unaware of crying out. The semen rushed out, painful, wonderful, cleansing, into Dom. His Dom. He slumped over, panting, lay against Dom’s back, exhausted, eyes closing, almost asleep already as he felt Ellen’s fingers in his hair.