Fans >> Fan Fiction >> Hands by Katie

We should be getting up, getting in the shower, getting dressed. We can't lie here all day like this. I'm sure I smell. I know he does. But it's a good smell, the smell of a long night of love. Sex. I almost don't want to wash it away. But now Albert's stirring, and his fingers are moving from my side to my stomach as he lifts his head to look at the digital clock beside the bed. I am willing a freak power outage so that he won't see how late we are. But he sees the time and does nothing but sigh and put his head back down near my shoulder.

Awake? he asks me.

No.

I feel more than see him grin. Then his head is raised again and his mouth has settled over mine. I can still taste last night's beer and cigarettes on his tongue. It's so familiar now, Albert's taste.

His hands, perfect hands, are rubbing my chest, my stomach, my sides. I let my head fall back on the pillow, close my eyes. He sits up, straddles me. Then he starts to massage my shoulders and neck. Every so often he leans down to nibble on my earlobe, gently bite my shoulder. Albert's hands move down to my sides and I open my eyes. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, and one side of his face is still red from being pressed against me all night long. This is how I love him. When no one is looking at he doesn't feel he has to look perfect. His style is one of I-just-threw-this-perfect-ensemble-on. He gives off the air of not giving a shit, but he does really. Albert likes to look good. But now, while it's just us and the morning sun is seeping through the blinds to cast slanted rays of light against his skin, he looks perfect. Magnificent. I want to always remember him this way. I wish I was like Nick, I wish I could take good pictures. Because I'd take a picture of Albert right now, sitting in my lap, his guitar string-calloused fingers tracing patterns all over me. It's so beautiful.

Now his hands have stopped moving and he's giving me that little half-smile. He looks at the clock and I can see him mentaly deciding how long it will be before someone comes looking for us. Apparently it's long enough. He wastes no time in reaching for my half-stiffened dick. I can't help but let out a little whimper. As his fingers are rubbing and touching, feeling, I reach for him. I push him off my lap, and we both move to our knees. He presses against me, holds me again and I do the same for him. He's already hard. His mouth is open slightly and I kiss him. I devour his lips. I want this to last forever. I want to feel the hair on his chest chaffing appealingly against me forever. I want to feel his thigh pressed against mine. I want to feel his hair tickle the sides of my face forever. I want to feel his tongue in my mouth, memorizing each and every crevice. Forever. But most of all I want those hands on me. I would give up everything I have, the music, the money, fame. Everything. Just to feel Albert's hands touch me.

Now he's moaning, really low, and he has pulled away from me.

Turn around, Julian, he says.

And I do. He reaches for a condom and the lubricant, thrown haphazardly on the floor last night. He coats his fingers in it. Then he touches my ass lightly with his fingers, pressing one inside me. I want to scream with pleasure. And it's just one finger.

But soon one hand grips my shoulder while the other holds my side and his dick is inside me. Albert lets out a long breath, and I try to relax my body. He always goes slow at first, lets me adjust. And then he leans down, right near my ear and he says ready? And I say yes. Oh god yes.

His first thrusts are always slow and torturous. Until I'm clutching the bedspread. And then he speeds up. His fingers massage my shoulder. His hand grips my side. I want to scream, I want to cry it feels so amazing. But all I can do is pant, let my mouth hang open and try to breathe. It's hard when all I can concentrate on is Albert. Behind me, making me crazy. And those hands. His skin against mine.

At some point either he reaches around and starts to move his hand up and down my dick. His long, low moans and breathy pants are so beautiful. I want it to last forever, but I can feel the tension mounting. And then before I know it I can feel him slam into me and he says my name. And just hearing him say my name like that, in that tone, breathless and consumed, I come. His voice is almost like his hands. Making me shiver and moan.

Now we are laying down again. This time it's me with my head on his shoulder. His arm is around me, and I never want to get up. But soon it will be time to leave and we haven't even showered. He says so and drops a kiss on my forehead before rolling me off of him and getting up. He walks, naked, towards the bathroom door and I admire his body. His hands. His fucking perfect make-me-come hands. As he turns the shower on, I listen to him humming under his breath and drift to sleep.