Sex and Sports Cars

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Rating: R to NC-17

Warnings: Slash, excessive graphic sexual situations, some language

Disclaimer: Mine. Except for the not so clandestine product placement. It’s not really product placement though, so don’t feel obliged to go out and indulge in an Armani shopping spree.

Author’s Note: It’s been almost eight months since this has been published and I’ve finally found the inspiration to continue with it. This chapter has been running through my head for the past week and I’ve finally written it down, and you get to know more about Aubrey, and hopefully the relationship between him and Jack is clearer nowadays. And just as a side note: this story started out to fulfill my smut-writing urges and it will continue in that matter, so if graphic man-sex offends you (though I doubt you would’ve gotten to chapter two if it did), I suggest you leave. For those of you not offended, you can expect at least one sex scene per chapter, I think. Hell, I need to get my fill somehow, right? I hope you like Chapter Two! Oh and another note: this story will be switching POVs for every chapter, just because I feel like it.

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TAKE TWO

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I’ve never felt quite myself at events of this sort, or this caliber for that matter. House party, my ass, there must be at least five hundred people here, enough Moët et Chandon to satisfy Marie Antoinette and enough designer clothes to take care of the population of a small South Asian country and then some. Instead of socializing, I find myself sulking in a corner, staring jealously at Jackie’s ass as he flirts his way around the room. Honestly, the ease with which he does this amazes me; of course with the snobbish behavior that he exhibits ever once in a while, I shouldn’t really be surprised, but I tend to have trouble reminding myself that he’s just as spoiled as everybody else here.

I think it’s because he has such a cute, tight ass, which looks amazing in Armani, or whatever the hell he’s wearing tonight. Generally, it just looks amazing in everything, and I can feel the distinctly familiar urge stirring in my… ahem… Lets just go with nether regions, shall we? I think that very soon, particularly if Jack keeps bending over like that to pick up his ‘dropped’ cigarette, glancing over his shoulder at me like he bloody well knows he’s putting on a show, we will have to adjourn to the bathroom – though at Val’s house I guess a bedroom is just as acceptable.

Social gatherings… I’d much rather be anywhere else, someplace with fewer people, preferably just Jackie and myself. Oh god, I live to torture myself don’t I? That idea brings out thoughts dirty enough to make any self-righteous obsessive-compulsive person put a gun to their own head. Actually, since we spend most of our time together, I don’t think there is ever a moment when my mind isn’t splashing about, smug and self-satisfied, in the gutter. And then I start thinking about our ultimatum, which strikes a deep, cacophonous chord of lust and panic in me.

The lust because I can already imagine Jackie licking his way down my chest, his hands possessive on my ass and his teeth worrying at the button of my jeans; and the panic because I’m slouching in my corner, anti-social and deep in thought, which brings up the particularly daunting possibility that tonight I might be distressingly celibate. I’m torn between the two extremes: either I can drag Jack off into some marbled bathroom and fuck him raw against the counter, or I can start socializing and get much more out of tonight than a single quickie snared in restricting jeans and five hundred dollar shirts. The latter is definitely the more tempting of the two, considering that if I go with that option, I’ll probably get the best of both.

“Hey, babe,” he tears away from his conversation long enough to murmur those words, and I don’t even have to look to see the Cheshire smirk fixed on his face as I wrap my arms around his waist and press harder than necessary against his ass.

“Introduce me, why don’t you?” I reply with a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the deep purple hickey I left on his neck earlier tonight. The tall, large-breasted blonde that has been fruitlessly flirting with him looks slightly taken aback, her eyes narrowing in my direction for a few seconds before she seems to gather her wits once more. However, the older, forty-something, and might I add incredibly attractive, man that the two have been conversing with grins rakishly, appraising the position Jackie and I are in with a predatory glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m sure you remember Theo, my ex,” I tighten my arms around Jack when he replies, slipping the tips of my fingers beneath the waist of his pants, not an easy task, I must say. Theo seems to get the point, and the blonde blushes awkwardly, “And this is Nathalie.”

“I’d shake hands, but…” I don’t finish the sentence, smirking as I slip my hand further into my boyfriend’s pants; Nathalie blushes even more - as women go, she really is beautiful; and Theo, who I’m slowly beginning to hate, follows the shape of my fingers in the vicinity of Jackie’s crotch, the grin permanently glued to his face. Nobody I have ever met has been this blatantly arrogant, and that is saying quite a bit, considering our general social circle; I don’t like the way he looks at us, calculating, it leaves me with a greasy sensation on my skin and I apologize for Jackie and myself as I drag us away towards the nearest bathroom.

“I don’t like him, Jack.”

“Neither do I, he’s a bastard.”

“You were flirting with him, though.” I know that he can sense the jealousy in my voice, I’ve never been good around his ex-boyfriends, and I envy the ease with which he encounters mine.

“Aubrey,” Jack sighs at me, he meets my eyes in the mirror with a frustrated, amber gaze, “He’s nowhere near as good as you are.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your dick on a leash, at least.” I find myself grumbling, the sour taste of resentment still heavy in my mouth.

Turning around, and meeting my eyes in earnest this time, Jackie presses his lips against mine in a lingering kiss that blows even the slightest idea of distrust out of my mind, “You know that I wouldn’t cheat on you with a greasy asshole like Theo.” He says as he pulls away, jumping up on to the counter and pulling me between his thighs, one hand firmly gripping my ass, the other sliding its way not-so-stealthily up the front of my shirt to play with the ring that passes through my nipple.

It is unbelievable just how quickly my dick jumps to attention as he removes his hands to push my jacket off my shoulders and onto the floor. “Hey, careful, that’s D&G!” I exclaim and the little bastard laughs.

“Idiot, it’s Armani.”

“You and your brand names.”

“Shut up and let’s fuck.” He growls, making quick work of my jeans and his own. Sometimes I find myself barely able to keep up with his advances, but all thought is wiped from my mind as he wraps his hand around me and starts a steady, torturously slow rhythm. Feverishly, I lean my head against his shoulder biting my tongue to keep from groaning too loud.

“Come on, baby, make some noise for me,” he whispers huskily into my ear, and I stumble as he hops lightly off the counter to press me hard against the opposite wall and grind our hips together.

“Fuck, Jack, you’re so hot,” I barely manage to moan when he turns me around and rakes his nails up the back of my shirt. I can feel his dick grinding against my ass as his hands leave my back and leave me shivering in anticipation, because I can only assume that he’s reaching for the tube of lube that he always carries in his pocket, ready for any eventuality.

And here I thought I would be the one fucking him into the counter, instead it looks like I’m going to be fucked hard against the wall. Not that I would think to protest – Jackie is debilitating when he’s aggressive, but even with his teeth on the back of my neck and his hand on my dick, I can’t help but wince and let out a little whine when he shoves a finger into me.

“Sorry, baby,” he pauses for a few seconds and my momentary discomfort turns to impatience. I want this fast and intense, I’ve decided; and I want my knees weak and stars behind my eyelids.

“Just hurry the fuck up,” I’m practically moaning as he starts up once more with the finger fucking. This time, it’s in earnest; and while I am unable to escape the sting entirely, through the haze of his hand sliding luxuriously and leisurely up and down my dick in a maddeningly slow rhythm, and his lips traversing my shoulders and back endlessly, pain is nearly swallowed up by an intensely pleasurable burn that spreads through my body to the very tips of my fingers.

“Oh fuck, Jack,” I am slowly coming to realize that my words are not quite comprehensible through my moans, partially due to my hand caught between my teeth. Of course, there is a very slim chance that someone would hear us, but I would prefer not to take the risk, considering someone will probably take the opportunity to sneak in with a video camera and two weeks later our sex life will end up on the Internet. It’s happened before.

Jackie’s dick disrupts my thoughts as it so often does, and in my peripheral vision I see his eyes close as he thrusts forward none too gently. Quickies just aren’t made to be gentle; it’s all rough, fast, hard, invigorating and exhausting at the same time.

“Oh… Oh my fucking god, Aubrey,” he groans into my ear, his hand unwittingly tightening its grip on my dick, cutting off the air as it courses to my lungs and forcing a shower of bright flashes to overwhelm my peripheral vision, I can’t stop myself from bucking my hips, forward at first, then back, jolting his hips, in their own turn, into a jagged rhythm that makes me believe, for the next five minutes, that I just died and went to heaven.

It takes all my will power to whisper his name instead of shouting it out for the entire world to hear, and I can feel the pressure building, towering, leaning like the tower of Pisa and threatening to topple as Jackie speeds up his rhythm, breaks the established irregular timing of his thrusts. With a twist of his wrist and the sharp trail of his nails down my side, it’s over – nuclear explosions wiping out my thoughts, and leaving me capable of little more than breathing. I can feel him thrust once more and bite into my shoulder to muffle a cry, and even with watery knees, I’m still the one supporting him.

“Feel better, babe?” He finally asks, pulling away to grab some toilet paper and clean up the fresh come that’s splattered on the wall. I’m not so jealous anymore, not with that familiar dull ache that is slowly making itself known in my backside and his amused, laughing gaze peering right through me.

I love him. My Jackie, all I could ever ask for: beautiful and sexy; smart and sensual; kinky and seductive. Perfect as he is, even those moments when he acts spoiled and snobbish, those times when he acts the fool. I love his perpetually disheveled hair; the owlish look he gets when something strikes his interest; his debauched grin and his ambiguous smile; I love him for everything that he was, he is, he will be.

“Mm, yes,” I finally reply as he pulls my jeans back up and does up the button, tugging at the hem of my shirt and ruffling my hair to make me look presentable. I have my doubts as I look into the mirror; it is probably obvious even to the blind that we weren’t talking in the bathroom. First of all, both of us look sufficiently rumpled: Jack’s hair slowly morphing into its usual mess, mine sticking up in random directions like it has just been tugged and pulled, which, of course, it has. Then, even if you were to ignore the three fresh hickeys that decorate my neck, my button up shirt is wrinkled enough to show that it has recently been manhandled. We’ve never been very good at subtlety, though I assume with this crowd closed doors simply do not exist.

“We look like we just had sex,” I grumble, attempting to smooth down a few strands of his hair and wipe away some smudged eyeliner.

“Yeah…” His tone says, ‘no shit,’ as he rolls his eyes at me, “That’s ‘cause we just did, Sherlock.”

Never before in the thirty-two years of my life have I felt so comfortable around anyone; after four years, it might be expected, of course, but it’s been like this since the beginning – even before I was truly in love with Jack.

“Jackson Alonso Gellagher-Stone, you will stop that this very instant!”

At the sudden commotion, Aubrey looked up from his book, a distinct look of displeasure furrowing his brow as he was interrupted from his studies. The expression did not last for long, fading as soon as he spotted young couple that was comprised of the perpetrators of the disturbance. A tall blonde on unbelievably high stilettos, looking as if she had just stepped out of a fashion spread; and what Aubrey could only assume was her boyfriend, equally tall, decked out in an outfit that practically stunk of money. The young man was grinning sheepishly; mischief prominent in his eyes as he pulled his hand back from ruffling her impeccably styled hair.

Aubrey caught himself thinking what a pity it was that all the gorgeous men were straight or taken, shaking his head as he attempted to return to reading the book before him. The pages were marked with highlighter, comments scrawled in the margins in a variety of colors. At his right hand, there was a tower of essays, waiting to be graded; he disliked reading the papers, the sentences were laced together haphazardly, rivaling, in their disorganization, only the structure of the paragraphs, which left much to be desired. It was therefore not surprising that he couldn’t focus on his work, finding his gaze incessantly drifting to the couple, which was now simply engaged in conversation, though hostility still lingered in the air between them. The woman looked mildly irritated, her companion looking awkwardly at a point over her shoulder as she lectured him on something or other, Aubrey was slightly too far away to make out the entirety of her speech.

Intently observing the two, he imagined their words, a subconscious, mellow smile fixed on his lips. It was when the man took of his blazer and revealed the rainbow, Pride 2002 bracelet on his wrist that Aubrey’s breath stubbornly caught in his throat. What luck! Instantly, he slammed the book before him shut, grabbing the papers and stuffing them in his briefcase, already standing before he realized that someone looking like that was definitely taken. Delighting in his lack of self-consciousness, however, he followed through with his actions, sauntering confidently over to their table.

“Excuse me, I was wondering if I could join you?”

The woman, her eyes hidden behind a forest of eyelashes glanced up at the interruption, her friend pausing mid-sentence to meet Aubrey’s placid, two-toned gaze, which was focused intently upon him. It took only a few seconds for the blonde to burst out in giggles.

“Of course,” she paused for a second, lowering her voice to whisper conspiratorially to her friend, “Oh, he’s cute, Jack!” Of course, standing only a foot from their table, Aubrey heard her clearly. Pulling up an empty chair, Aubrey grinned rakishly.

“Valerie Sutton,” the blonde stuck out her hand in introduction, and Aubrey, always the perfect gentleman at first impressions, pressed a kiss to her knuckles. He recognized the name of some model or other as he turned an appreciating gaze to the brunette.

“Aubrey Malone,” he replied, tongue still heavy with his native British accent.

“Jackson Stone,” the young man finally replied in a hushed voice, taking Aubrey’s proffered hand into a firm grip. It suddenly dawned upon Aubrey who he was speaking with: the heir to the Stone dynasty. He didn’t comprehend how he hadn’t recognized the man, for he’d certainly seen more than one picture. Beautiful, he caught himself thinking once more as he sat down at their table.

“So, Aubrey,” Valerie dragged his attention away from Jackson, “What brought you to join us?” Judging from the impish look in her in eyes, it was rather obvious that she already knew the answer and she was striving to bring it to her companion’s attention, though it seemed that he, as well, was not oblivious.

“Oh shut up, Val,” Jackson snapped, rolling his eyes and raking a hand through his chocolate colored locks.

“Ah, well,” Aubrey grinned charmingly, “I was quite taken with your friend here.”

Jackson blushed, he never had been very good at concealing his emotions, and Aubrey was certainly gorgeous. Tall, toned, with soft auburn curls that caught the sun and twisted its rays to make them seem redder than they actually was. Those two-toned eyes, one green, one blue, were filled with an infectious joie de vivre that could entice a dead man to leave his casket once more.

“Consequently, I was wondering,” Aubrey paused, directing his words towards Valerie though he was staring at Jackson ardently, “If he would like to go on a date with me.”

“Of course he would!”

And that was that.

I realize that I have always been confident, perhaps too confident if I was completely honest; even so, my self-assurance does not mean that I am at ease around people, in fact, quite the opposite is the case. Claustrophobia is one of my nastier flaws, and the saying ‘three’s a crowd’ holds true in my case. Due mostly to this fact, true friends are few and far between, but from the first moment I met him, Jack’s delicious blush and hushed speech lowered me into a fairly comfortable state, and since then, it seems I’ve slipped to the extremes of the feeling.

“Hey, Aubrey,” it takes a moment for me to snap to attention and spy Jack, his hand on the doorknob and that delectably irritated look on his face, “You’re day-dreaming again.”

“That’s what you get for dating a writer.”

“How about on your own time?”

“It’s not like I can help it, with you around all the time.” I leer.

“Fucking horny bastard.” I catch him grumble under his breath as he walks out of the bathroom and back into the melee that is slowly conquering the entire house. Pulling on my jacket, I shrug, he hates when I sink into my memories, or my imagined, private worlds. I guess my leer didn’t help the situation. Jackie believes that my libido is uncontrollable, and because being around him shoots my mind into the gutter with the speed and precision of a kamikaze my actions tend to bury that idea even further into his psyche.

I may be a writer and an English teacher, but I can only control words when they are scrolling across the screen of my computer, or unfolding beneath the tip of my pen. In two dimensions you can rethink, delete and cross out those thoughts or phrases that are not quite perfect and incite incorrect connotations. But in speaking, I tend to spill unneeded and often offensive thoughts too early, subconsciously refusing to ponder on the emotions and tempers I might inflame.

Truthfully, I believe that a large component of my problem is that after four years, Jack still hasn’t told me that he loves me. Of course, through gifts and touches, soft kisses and calming words, he’s shown me; but you cannot blame a man for wanting to hear those three, easy words. His silence breeds a maelstrom of frustration in me, and when he simply hums in response to my confessions I see angry, red splotches behind my eyelids, a heady mix of irritation and anguish that stays with me for hours and triggers my insomnia full force. It is his hesitation, as well, that occasionally sparks my jealousy and mistrust, and makes it that much more difficult for me to meet prior lovers, not an activity I find easy at the best of times.

Even so, I muse, as I follow furtively in Jackie’s footsteps, seeking to apologize, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for him to say it. I think.

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So? What’d ya think?

REVIEW REPLIES:

Limited Edition: As I mentioned in my Author’s note at the beginning of this chapter, this story was started simply as a method for me to write some smut, and it will remain that way; so, while the plot will be developed further (and this will happen in later chapters as I dislike stories that give everything away in the first two paragraphs), the sex will still be a very prominent aspect of the work. As per the lube comment, I don’t see the need to mention exactly what happened at what point in time; after all, I’m not writing a medical report and I hope my readers can imagine some things without me having to flat out state it. To add onto that, lube is required depending on the circumstances – prior intercourse, foreplay and whatnot, I never said that the blowjob was the beginning of their sexploits that night. Anyway, thank you for the review; I’m happy that you like my description and my dialogue, at least.

.: I’m glad I managed to catch your attention! Thank you, I know that they’re really lovey-dovey, but I hope that the imperfections in their relationship will become more prominent as the story progresses; particularly in Aubrey’s segments because he has a rather quicker temper than Jackie in some degrees. And the eight-month hiatus is officially over. Thanks a bunch for the review!

Christa: Thank you! I’m glad you liked my style, though the exact style will be changing for the different points of view, because, obviously, everybody’s thoughts flow in different ways.

Violent Pornography: Thanks. I’m really happy you like Jack, in spite of his vices. And here’s chapter two. Thanks again for the review.

Silverflixx: Psh, sex can never be too steamy, can it? Well, maybe it can, I guess; but this story, as I mentioned earlier is going to be bursting with sex, because, well, it has to be, for it to serve its original purpose, and all. Hopefully this chapter will give you a little more foresight into the future of the story, but if it doesn’t, don’t worry, there’s more coming up.

Holy Trin: Thank you! Honestly, before I wrote chapter one, I hadn’t written a sex scene in about a year probably, so I felt I needed to get back in the flow. I’m glad to hear that I haven’t lost my touch entirely. Lawl.

EAZYADICT: This is not a one-shot! Thanks for the review, though, I hope you continue reading!