P
pillow
Guest
* MORRISSEY[almost]GETS WHAT HE WANTS.*
Morrissey entered his flatmates room at 5.30am.
jake heard his footfalls,
expecting as he always did,
to hear them pass and diminish down the stairs.
instead they paused,
and jake sat up,
curious,
as to why he was being called upon at such an hour,
watching the handle turn,
preparing to give a certain steven patrick a piece of his mind:
''hello sour-puss,whats wrong with you then?''
jake glowered,
trying to sound annoyed.
and failing to.
how could he be angry,
with such an unhappy tragic morrissey,
darkening his doorway?
a morrissey who stood,
a study of despair,
in moonlit terrycloth.
wringing his hands back and forth in an old blue dressing gown,
[the one with tea stains on the hem]
his hair dishevelled like an old broom,
and his face creased with worry lines:
''the roof is leaking over my bed again and ive had a nightmare about johnny marr stealing my purse.''
his voice was deep,
but quavered girlishly.
jake smirked.
''what the hell do you expect me to do?''
morrissey shifted uneasily from one foot to the other,
biting the sleeve of his robe.
''well...its so cold,and i just thought,you know,well maybe i could get in with you for a while...''
he raised his eyebrows hopefully,an innocent smile.
but jake imagined he saw something else glinting in those baby blues,
and wondered what it was...
''who do you think i am? your personal assistant?''
morrissey turning,dragging himself out the door.
jake then suddenly realised how much guts it had taken morrissey to even ask,
and felt evil.
''im sorry,
you can stay,
you can stay.
just dont wriggle.''
* * *
morrissey sighed cotentedly as he slid in beside jake.
wide awake,
as he wallowed in seedy desires,
too unsure to try anything,
accidently-on-purpose
unravelling from his dressing gown,
reflecting on his past seduction attempts,
and schemeing...
then he ventured to test the waters:
jake was not surprised when he felt morrisseys mouth on the back of his neck,
slippery heat,
that familiar chin and oversized tongue,
always wandering where it shouldnt.
someone needed a lesson.
he grabbed morrissey roughly,
putting him in a headlock,
he squealed,
delighted,
and protested feebly.
jake pinned his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees,
reaching for his bedside K.Y,
he greased morrissey up.
spreading it thickly between white thighs,
making his way slowly,
noting how morrissey got the shakes,
when cold lube ran down his crack and onto his balls....
morrissey clenched his teeth and waited.
trying to relax,
fingers twisted into the duvet,
he bucked and yelled at the first stab,
his ass fighting it,
and then it was in,
fitting him like a glove.
sending his manhood twitching in the direction of his bellybutton,
so much more fun than the solitary fumblings he had been sustaining himself on
in the room next door,
all the time wondering if jake was doing the same...
he drooled profusley on the sheets,being shoved closer and closer to the edge...
of the bed.
''AAAAAARG!''
morrissey thumped onto the floor in a heap,
closely followed by jake,
who embroiled in a tangle of bedding,
began to shout obscenities at him:
''thats why i broke up with you in the first place, you no-good mealy-assed sexual cripple,youre so CLUMSY...''
he was silenced by sudden smack on the chops,
morrisseys rings drawing blood,
and they began to wrestle furiously,
gradually working their way back to what they were doing in the first place...
Morrissey entered his flatmates room at 5.30am.
jake heard his footfalls,
expecting as he always did,
to hear them pass and diminish down the stairs.
instead they paused,
and jake sat up,
curious,
as to why he was being called upon at such an hour,
watching the handle turn,
preparing to give a certain steven patrick a piece of his mind:
''hello sour-puss,whats wrong with you then?''
jake glowered,
trying to sound annoyed.
and failing to.
how could he be angry,
with such an unhappy tragic morrissey,
darkening his doorway?
a morrissey who stood,
a study of despair,
in moonlit terrycloth.
wringing his hands back and forth in an old blue dressing gown,
[the one with tea stains on the hem]
his hair dishevelled like an old broom,
and his face creased with worry lines:
''the roof is leaking over my bed again and ive had a nightmare about johnny marr stealing my purse.''
his voice was deep,
but quavered girlishly.
jake smirked.
''what the hell do you expect me to do?''
morrissey shifted uneasily from one foot to the other,
biting the sleeve of his robe.
''well...its so cold,and i just thought,you know,well maybe i could get in with you for a while...''
he raised his eyebrows hopefully,an innocent smile.
but jake imagined he saw something else glinting in those baby blues,
and wondered what it was...
''who do you think i am? your personal assistant?''
morrissey turning,dragging himself out the door.
jake then suddenly realised how much guts it had taken morrissey to even ask,
and felt evil.
''im sorry,
you can stay,
you can stay.
just dont wriggle.''
* * *
morrissey sighed cotentedly as he slid in beside jake.
wide awake,
as he wallowed in seedy desires,
too unsure to try anything,
accidently-on-purpose
unravelling from his dressing gown,
reflecting on his past seduction attempts,
and schemeing...
then he ventured to test the waters:
jake was not surprised when he felt morrisseys mouth on the back of his neck,
slippery heat,
that familiar chin and oversized tongue,
always wandering where it shouldnt.
someone needed a lesson.
he grabbed morrissey roughly,
putting him in a headlock,
he squealed,
delighted,
and protested feebly.
jake pinned his arms behind his back and forced him to his knees,
reaching for his bedside K.Y,
he greased morrissey up.
spreading it thickly between white thighs,
making his way slowly,
noting how morrissey got the shakes,
when cold lube ran down his crack and onto his balls....
morrissey clenched his teeth and waited.
trying to relax,
fingers twisted into the duvet,
he bucked and yelled at the first stab,
his ass fighting it,
and then it was in,
fitting him like a glove.
sending his manhood twitching in the direction of his bellybutton,
so much more fun than the solitary fumblings he had been sustaining himself on
in the room next door,
all the time wondering if jake was doing the same...
he drooled profusley on the sheets,being shoved closer and closer to the edge...
of the bed.
''AAAAAARG!''
morrissey thumped onto the floor in a heap,
closely followed by jake,
who embroiled in a tangle of bedding,
began to shout obscenities at him:
''thats why i broke up with you in the first place, you no-good mealy-assed sexual cripple,youre so CLUMSY...''
he was silenced by sudden smack on the chops,
morrisseys rings drawing blood,
and they began to wrestle furiously,
gradually working their way back to what they were doing in the first place...
