Categories > Celebrities > Guns n' Roses
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Duff and Izzy find some privacy in a janitor's closet after a gig. Set in the late 80s.
?Blocked
Once again, I find myself in this situation. His lips are pressed to mine, his calloused fingers working at my shirt buttons. My own calloused fingers are tugging up the hem of his shirt. He breaks the kiss so that I can pull his shirt off and discard it. When he resumes the kiss, he works his tongue into my mouth. My own tongue fights back, battling for dominance. I really just want to submit, but it's no fun without putting up a little fight. Finally, he gets the last button unhooked and pushes my shirt off of my shoulders. My arms are immediately around his neck, fingers reaching up to tangle in that bleached-blonde hair.
We didn't even wait to leave the venue this time. As soon as we got off stage and put our instruments away, he had grabbed my hand and led me to the nearest janitor's closet. I was immediately pinned to the door.
His lips are trailing down my neck now. I tilt my head, granting him better access. In the back of my mind, there's a voice telling me we should stop, that this is wrong, that I should push him away. But it feels too damn good. I gasp when I feel his teeth graze against my collarbone. To Hell with right and wrong, I want this! And he knows. His palm is pressed to my crotch, rubbing me through my jeans as his lips make their way back up to my ear.
"Such a naughty little boy," he purrs. "You like this, don't you?"
I don't bother trying to answer. I simply moan, grinding against his hand. He chuckles and starts to work on my belt buckle, then the fastener of my pants. When he pushes them down and wraps his fingers around my dick, it registers that I should return the favor. I reach down to fumble with the button of his pants, but he pushes my hands away.
"No, no, pretty baby~"
"Please," I whine, starting to thrust into his hand.
He pulls away and looks around the small space as he unfastens and pushes down his own pants. He grabs a small jar from the shelf and unscrews the lid to coat his fingers with the jelly inside. I recognize it as Vaseline on some subconscious level. When I move to turn around, he stops me.
"I wanna see your face, Jeff," he whispers, and I realize this is more than a quick fuck in a janitor's closet. It's never just a quick fuck. We both want more. We wanted more from the start.
He pushes my legs apart and rubs one finger around my entrance before slipping it inside. My hands are on his shoulders now and I'm blushing. He always manages to make me blush, and I know he always will. It's that look in his eyes, the one that says he knows I know I'm his and that he knows I know he's mine.
A second finger joins the first and I let out another quiet moan. He's moving them, working to stretch me quickly, pushing them deep into me. I close my eyes when he adds the third finger, and my head falls back against the door when he brushes against that most intimate spot. Before removing his fingers, he brushes against it twice more, pulling louder moans from me.
He slicks his cock quickly and picks me up, hooking my legs over his arms and pinning me to the door again. When he pushes in, I gasp, and he claims my mouth once again. My arms wrap around his neck, clinging tighter than before. He starts to thrust, slow at first, letting me feel every inch. He takes his time building up a rhythm. Once he's established that steady pace, he pulls away from my lips to whisper in my ear again, quiet grunts and small gasps interspersed with his words.
"Be quiet…We…can't risk s-someone…finding us…Can you…can you keep quiet, pretty thing?"
I simply give a small nod, biting my bottom lip to keep my noises inside. He rewards me by wrapping a hand around my cock again, stroking out of time with his thrusts. My fingers are tangled in his hair once again, tugging lightly, urging him on, begging for more. He gives it, quickening his pace a bit, pushing deeper with each thrust until he strikes that spot. I give a strangled cry.
"Mi-Michael, please!"
He moans against my neck, pressing his lips to it to keep himself quiet. He's striking that spot with almost every thrust now, hard and fast, driving us both closer to ecstasy. I can't keep the moans and gasps from tumbling from my lips. He knows and seals our lips together once more, his tongue seeking mine once again. It's not a battle for dominance this time. It's a well-rehearsed dance, soft and slow, each needing the other. Our noises are mingling and dying between our mouths. His taste, his scent, his touch…The way he moans deep in his throat…The image of that possessive-yet-needy look in his eyes, permanently burned into my mind…It's overwhelming, overpowering.
Suddenly I'm spilling myself onto his hand and my stomach, tugging more harshly at his hair, another choked cry tearing itself from my throat. He thrusts a couple times more before filling me, joining me in that place we can only reach together. I cling to him, breathless and sweaty. He slowly breaks the kiss and I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
"My beautiful boy…"
Gently, he extracts himself and sets me on my feet again. Whimpering at the loss, I lean back against the door, but I refuse to let go of him. He presses the softest of kisses to my forehead.
"We can't stay here…They'll wonder where we are, especially Axl."
I nod, knowing he's right. I can't help but cling tighter and whisper, "Just a little more…"
We didn't even wait to leave the venue this time. As soon as we got off stage and put our instruments away, he had grabbed my hand and led me to the nearest janitor's closet. I was immediately pinned to the door.
His lips are trailing down my neck now. I tilt my head, granting him better access. In the back of my mind, there's a voice telling me we should stop, that this is wrong, that I should push him away. But it feels too damn good. I gasp when I feel his teeth graze against my collarbone. To Hell with right and wrong, I want this! And he knows. His palm is pressed to my crotch, rubbing me through my jeans as his lips make their way back up to my ear.
"Such a naughty little boy," he purrs. "You like this, don't you?"
I don't bother trying to answer. I simply moan, grinding against his hand. He chuckles and starts to work on my belt buckle, then the fastener of my pants. When he pushes them down and wraps his fingers around my dick, it registers that I should return the favor. I reach down to fumble with the button of his pants, but he pushes my hands away.
"No, no, pretty baby~"
"Please," I whine, starting to thrust into his hand.
He pulls away and looks around the small space as he unfastens and pushes down his own pants. He grabs a small jar from the shelf and unscrews the lid to coat his fingers with the jelly inside. I recognize it as Vaseline on some subconscious level. When I move to turn around, he stops me.
"I wanna see your face, Jeff," he whispers, and I realize this is more than a quick fuck in a janitor's closet. It's never just a quick fuck. We both want more. We wanted more from the start.
He pushes my legs apart and rubs one finger around my entrance before slipping it inside. My hands are on his shoulders now and I'm blushing. He always manages to make me blush, and I know he always will. It's that look in his eyes, the one that says he knows I know I'm his and that he knows I know he's mine.
A second finger joins the first and I let out another quiet moan. He's moving them, working to stretch me quickly, pushing them deep into me. I close my eyes when he adds the third finger, and my head falls back against the door when he brushes against that most intimate spot. Before removing his fingers, he brushes against it twice more, pulling louder moans from me.
He slicks his cock quickly and picks me up, hooking my legs over his arms and pinning me to the door again. When he pushes in, I gasp, and he claims my mouth once again. My arms wrap around his neck, clinging tighter than before. He starts to thrust, slow at first, letting me feel every inch. He takes his time building up a rhythm. Once he's established that steady pace, he pulls away from my lips to whisper in my ear again, quiet grunts and small gasps interspersed with his words.
"Be quiet…We…can't risk s-someone…finding us…Can you…can you keep quiet, pretty thing?"
I simply give a small nod, biting my bottom lip to keep my noises inside. He rewards me by wrapping a hand around my cock again, stroking out of time with his thrusts. My fingers are tangled in his hair once again, tugging lightly, urging him on, begging for more. He gives it, quickening his pace a bit, pushing deeper with each thrust until he strikes that spot. I give a strangled cry.
"Mi-Michael, please!"
He moans against my neck, pressing his lips to it to keep himself quiet. He's striking that spot with almost every thrust now, hard and fast, driving us both closer to ecstasy. I can't keep the moans and gasps from tumbling from my lips. He knows and seals our lips together once more, his tongue seeking mine once again. It's not a battle for dominance this time. It's a well-rehearsed dance, soft and slow, each needing the other. Our noises are mingling and dying between our mouths. His taste, his scent, his touch…The way he moans deep in his throat…The image of that possessive-yet-needy look in his eyes, permanently burned into my mind…It's overwhelming, overpowering.
Suddenly I'm spilling myself onto his hand and my stomach, tugging more harshly at his hair, another choked cry tearing itself from my throat. He thrusts a couple times more before filling me, joining me in that place we can only reach together. I cling to him, breathless and sweaty. He slowly breaks the kiss and I open my eyes to find him staring at me.
"My beautiful boy…"
Gently, he extracts himself and sets me on my feet again. Whimpering at the loss, I lean back against the door, but I refuse to let go of him. He presses the softest of kisses to my forehead.
"We can't stay here…They'll wonder where we are, especially Axl."
I nod, knowing he's right. I can't help but cling tighter and whisper, "Just a little more…"
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