After the End Ch. 16

"Oh my god!" His hips thrust uselessly after the orgasm I wasn't letting him have yet.

"You didn't really want this to be over already, did you?"

Avery's breaths were coming rapidly, and his lids had fallen closed. "Can't really think straight...when I'm throbbing like this..."

"I could distract you," I suggested. My palm landed at his side, fingertips close enough to the hollow beneath his raised arm for him to catch my meaning.

His eyes snapped open and he bit his lip, fighting a preemptive smile.

"Hm?" I prompted, sneaking closer to my target. "You gonna let me tickle you a little bit?"

His reply was broken by an unsteady breath. "I can't exactly -- stop you."

"You can, actually. You can tell me no." My fingers lingered at the edge of his vulnerable pit, which appeared to be keeping him in delicious suspense.

He squirmed slightly, as if in attempt to escape the ticklish threat, but of course his arm stayed just as securely fastened above his head. "But I did it to you..."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not you. What works for each of us could be completely different."

He seemed to struggle internally between his expectations for this session and what he actually wanted.

"I'd like to see how it feels for you," I went on, "with these ropes keeping you open, and your cock on edge. I'll be gentle, I promise."

His body stiffened for a moment, head thrown back, apparently tormented by the decision. Then he yielded. "Just a little," he allowed, heat on his freckle-dusted cheeks.

I kissed his blush, then his mouth. "Have I told you how much I like it when you let me tease you?"

"Yes," he groaned, his features shaping both embarrassment and pride.

With just the tip of my index finger, I ventured into Avery's wide-open armpit, scratching lightly at the extra-sensitive nerve endings buried there. He rewarded me with adorable giggles and sexy writhing, tossing his shaggy head back and forth since he couldn't move his arm.

I kept it up, crooking that one finger in his defenseless hollow, finding all the most reactive places, from down near his nipple to the smooth swell of his triceps. He was clearly trying to control the laughter, but it burst out anyway.

"How does that -- fucking tickle so much -- when you're barely doing anything?" he exclaimed when he could get his spasming diaphragm to cooperate.

"Because you're all wound up, and because I know how to make the most of it." I traced circles inside his tickle spot for another minute, keeping the contact mild but devastatingly focused, while he squirmed fruitlessly. I didn't fail to notice that my finger had an effect on his erection too, making it bounce and spurt lubricant.

"You're getting quite messy down there," I informed him eventually, raising my eyebrows until he followed my gaze to his crotch.

"That's -- your fault," he tried to say, but the accusation lost its edge when I brushed through his pit again.

"I'd better clean you up, then, huh."

I moved south so I could lap at his glans just enough to remove the stickiness, but not enough to provide any relief to his engorged state. Then I nibbled the small puddle of pre-come from the region below his navel, which had him giggling some more. I snuck my tongue into his dimple too, just for fun, eliciting another attempt to twist away. Meanwhile, his neglected shaft strained for my lips.

"Probably about time to let you get off," I noted playfully, but before he could respond, I targeted his ticklish flanks -- one finger jabbing each unguarded side, right where I knew he couldn't handle it.

"Ahh, yes, please," he laughed, arching desperately until I paused. Perspiration slicked his skin, and his glossy black curls were in disarray from being tossed against the pillow.

I laid my hands at his waist, not moving but still dangerous. "I don't know. You think your anniversary was memorable enough?"

"So memorable," he panted, mirth lingering on his cheeks. He was watching me, tensed in anticipation of my next move, so I grinned and delivered another attack he was helpless to resist.

"Graham!" he yelped, but it turned into a cry of relief when I finally took his throbbing cock back into my mouth -- at least until I let it go again.

I played with him for a while longer: exploring his delectable flesh, exploiting his reactive nerves, flooding him with decadent sensation and nourishing his desire. When I sensed him tiring out, his capacity for pleasure at last exhausted, I sucked him with intention, knowing he wouldn't need much, and he didn't.

He convulsed as hard as I had yesterday, jerking heedlessly at his bonds and practically shrieking with the force of his ejaculation. I kept him sealed in my mouth until he was completely empty.

"Fucking hell," he concluded, letting his lashes flutter together and going limp against the quilt after two days of physical and emotional stress. I smiled fondly at the debauched sight of him before turning to Julian.

He hadn't moved from the stool or attempted to participate, but there was something elusive in his gaze when it landed on my face -- some kind of yearning that went deeper than sex. He hid it right away and got up to start untying his husband, so I helped on the other side. I didn't have a ton of experience with bondage, but I'd had a girlfriend once who liked to be tied up, so I'd learned enough for basic positions.

Avery didn't stir very far when he was freed. He just rolled to the side, tucked a pillow under his head, and vaguely pushed me toward the middle.

"You guys will have to go on without me," he sighed sleepily without opening his eyes. "Can't move."

"You sure?" I checked. "It was your turn to deny me."

"Julian can do it," was all he said.

I kissed his head and pulled the bedsheet to cover him. But when I climbed over to see what his partner had in mind, Julian just switched off the lamp. I could hear him undressing, so I did likewise, tossing my clothes into a heap at the foot of the bed. Soon we were both beneath the sheet too.

I lay facing him, and I thought he was facing me, although he still hadn't said anything. "What can I do for you, Major?" I asked quietly, in case Avery was asleep behind me.

To my surprise, instead of answering, Julian's hand found my jaw, and then his mouth was on mine. This kiss was different from any of the others: wild, unrestrained, as if he felt safer being with me when his husband wasn't watching. I gave as good as I got, pressing hard against his lips and opening eagerly for his tongue. It was like finally meeting the real Julian Demos, the one he kept locked up beneath a mask of discipline and control. The one I'd been waiting for since that conversation we had in the guard tower six weeks ago, when his dispassionate facade had slipped for a moment.

I pressed closer into his body, and he didn't discourage me. When I reached for his cock, it was rigid and bare, and he didn't discourage me from that either. The angle wasn't ideal, and it would have been better with lube, but I didn't want to break this spell by asking for any. I found a grip that worked well enough and started rubbing some pleasure into his rod; he approved with the smallest exhale into my mouth.

I found his other hand and brought it to my own swollen shaft. "Your husband wanted you to deny me," I murmured against his lips, and he seemed energized by the request. I'd been ignoring my own need while focusing on Avery, but it came rushing to the forefront as soon as Julian's hand began working between my legs.

I wouldn't normally volunteer to have my climax built up and then cruelly snatched away at the last instant, but something about this situation had me desperate to make this sacrifice for him: to climb just to the peak, so close to that incandescent burst of bliss, and to be left yearning. By his will.

I pulled away from his mouth to ask a question, still barely above a whisper. "I take it you were pleased with my performance?"

It took a second, but when his low voice answered, it was rough with need and naked as his cock in my fist. "Very much. You were amazing with him. Tonight, and last night. You always are."

I was sure he could feel my blood surging beneath his hand. "I could be amazing with you too, you know."

There was another long hesitation while we wrought chemical joy from each other's most intimate parts. "I know you could," he said finally. "For now, I would rather observe."

I kissed him some more, wishing I knew what key would unlock the desire he was withholding. I adored Avery and the relationship we shared -- the shy smiles and tender affection, the banter and power play. He was no child, despite our seven-year age difference. But he was also little like the man in front of me: a fully-qualified commander of the U.S. military, born to privilege and power, yet choosing instead to inspire thousands to risk -- or give -- their lives for lasting change. Even now, I knew I was only getting a taste of our potential connection.

But all I said was, "I understand."

Julian's hand on me was ramping up, twisting at the glans, building my hunger and making me start to regret my offer.

"Tell me when you get close, Captain," he instructed. "He would want me to do my job thoroughly."

I clung to his shoulder and thrust into his strokes, carnal excitement spiraling in my core because it wasn't just Avery who wanted this. "Yes, I'm close..."

Julian's reply was smoky and inexorable, his hand electric on my needy rod. "Tell me when you can't get any closer."

I exhaled unsteadily, pressing into his mouth, helpless with the eroticism of letting him take advantage of me this way. I was still jerking him too, but it was hard to concentrate when I was this near to unraveling.

Suddenly I was there. "I -- I'm --" I tried to say, but I couldn't find words fast enough, so I pushed his hand off me just before I would have been unable to halt my release. My genitals positively throbbed: the pleasure almost as extreme as an actual orgasm, but the craving more unbearable than ever. Yet in some tangled way, there was fulfillment in letting him trap me in this purgatory.

"Oh, Julian," I breathed, millimeters from his lips. "God, it aches."

"You're going to leave it aching for me, though, aren't you." He made it a statement, not a question, and that alone almost got me off.

"Yes, sir," I whispered, thrilling myself with the use of the honorific, because it wasn't in play this time. Then his hand found me again. I'd barely backed down enough to tolerate it, but he kept the contact light, fondling rather than stroking. Prolonging my torment for his own satisfaction. And I didn't want him to stop.

I could feel he was near the edge too, so I gripped more firmly and sped up, until he was spasming and shooting into my fist. He quickly produced the towel to clean up the mess. Then without moving away, he turned onto his back so that we weren't exactly cuddling, but weren't exactly not.

We'd never been this close outside of actively engaging in sex, and it was doing unexpected things to my circulatory system. I'd grown accustomed to the post-session aftercare ritual, but not from the receiving end. With my groin still pulsing and my emotions still raw, I was grateful for the tangible proof of his presence.

"You ok?" he asked quietly after I'd taken a few steadying breaths. I was pretty sure Avery was asleep, since I hadn't heard anything from behind me since we got into bed.

"Yeah." I wasn't honestly sure I could identify the place Julian had taken me, but I wasn't complaining about it.

"I don't think you've had much experience with that, so if you start to...get upset, just let me know."

"Alright," I agreed again while I tried to figure out how to lose my raging erection. "Does he get upset?" I used my inflection to indicate who I meant, so Avery's subconscious wouldn't hear his name and wake him up.

"Once in a while. Not often, these days."

"Starting to understand the appeal," I commented, and it was hard to tell in the dark, but I thought I heard the slightest laugh.

Another few breaths went by, and I figured a change in subject was going to be necessary if I ever wanted to stop feeling on the verge of an orgasm I couldn't have.

"Was it...ok last night?" I kept my voice down, which was easy to do with Julian's head so close to mine. "With him, and me? The extended session?"

"Yes. And you're not the first person to ask me that."

"I haven't been this involved with an established couple before. I would want you to tell me, if I did anything to overstep, or anything that concerned or offended you."

Again, I heard that quiet outrush of breath, but otherwise he didn't reply.

"What?" I asked.

"You just...reminded me of someone. It's been a long time since anyone needed to take that kind of precaution with me."

That was an interesting statement, but first things first. "I'd still like to hear you confirm that you'll tell me about any concerns."

There was a hint of smile in his reply. "Confirmed."

"So are there any?"

"Not at present."

"Ok." No one spoke for a minute, and I got curious. Thankfully, that was helping with the deflation. "Who did I remind you of?"

There was a brief silence. "My first boyfriend."

"Anyone I know?" I wondered. "If you don't mind me asking."

"His name was Sala Johnson," Julian answered, so I guessed he didn't. "He was a training officer at the academy, but that may have been after you graduated."

"Hm. Maybe. I don't think I'm familiar with the name."

"We got together when I was nineteen. He was several years older, but I'd been promoted quickly. He was the first person I slept with, actually."

"Really? Kind of hard to imagine you as a nineteen-year-old virgin."

I felt Julian shrug, and his reply was surprisingly uncertain. "There was...a lot of pressure, due to my family, and the career I was expected to have. With my sexual orientation, my options are statistically more limited. And there were...other complications."

I wondered what he meant by that, but I figured he would have explained if he wanted to. "How long were you together?" I asked instead. I hadn't been aware of him dating anyone at that age.

"About six months. Neither of us had any intention or desire for a long-term relationship at that point. But it wouldn't exactly be accurate to say it wasn't serious, either. When I was posted to my first command, we parted on friendly terms."

"You ever think about getting back with him afterward?"

He seemed to consider his response for a moment. "By the time we crossed paths again, I was with Nico." There was another pause, and his voice grew softer. "And then, it was too late."

Ah. "What happened?" I asked gently.

"He was killed trying to divert supplies to the survivors of the flooding in Wenatchee, in 2122."

"I'm sorry," I told him sincerely.

"I'm sure you've lost plenty of friends yourself," Julian deflected.

"Which means I know repetition doesn't make the experience less painful."

We lay quietly again for a while, but something he'd said earlier was still circling in my head. "You mentioned that your boyfriend needed to take precautions with you. And I've noticed that when it comes to sexual safety, you're careful almost to the point of paranoia. You don't have to share anything unless you want to, but...is there any particular reason for that? I'm only asking because as we spend more time together, I could be at risk of accidentally triggering the wrong memory."

He let out a long lungful beside me, then took another and released it too. "I suppose you're right, and you may as well know," he said, but two more breaths passed before the halting words formed. "I was...assaulted. When I was fourteen. A team effort." Another brief pause. "Because of that, I didn't try receiving anal stimulation consensually until I'd been with my husband almost a year. I still find it...challenging. Which is why I've never had it on the table for our interactions."

The horror left me temporarily speechless. "I would say I'm sorry again, if I thought it'd be worth anything." I finally managed. I wanted to offer more support, but I didn't know if reaching for him might feel threatening. "God -- fourteen? Did it happen at the academy? I would have still been there."

"Yes. Students. Your class, I believe."

Something sick turned over in my stomach. "I truly am sorry," I told Julian, the words completely inadequate to convey the depth of my sorrow and revulsion. "I had no idea. Did you...tell anyone?" I couldn't recall any disciplinary actions around that time that would have fit the severity of this crime, but given the political and cultural factors at play, a cover-up would have been much more likely even if he had reported it.

His reply was simple and crushing. "Would you have?"

Just imagining being in that situation had me nauseated. "Probably not." I considered what options he might realistically have had, knowing his family and the administration. It must have been terrifyingly isolating. "Did you have a friend or anyone you could talk to?"

"Not until Sala."

I shook my head in the dark, my early impressions of him reorienting around the knowledge that he'd survived such a hideous attack alone. "I wish I could have been there for you, back then."

His quiet voice turned faintly satirical. "Sixteen-year-old Graham Lansing, picking up my pieces?"

"Is that so hard to imagine?"

He sighed and adjusted his position without moving any further away. "It is what I used to imagine. Not you, specifically. Just...someone."

Tentatively, I shifted my hand and found his muscled forearm. "I know it's very late in coming, and there's nothing I can do to make that period better for you. But I am here now. And your husband is not the only person in this room who I care about. So if you ever want to talk -- it doesn't have to be about this -- or if I can help with anything, I hope you'll let me know."

For once, Julian didn't brush me off with mechanical civility. It sounded like he meant it when he whispered, "I appreciate that."

"Is it alright if I sleep next to you?" I asked when he didn't seem inclined to add anything further. "Or do you want me to move him? I didn't intend to come between you on your anniversary."

"You can stay," he said softly. "If he wants to move later when he wakes up, he can."

I gave his arm a quick squeeze. "You ok?" I asked, struck by the irony of reversing the question from earlier.

"I'm ok," he confirmed.

"Goodnight, Julian." I would have kissed him, but I worried it would rouse my erection again.

"Goodnight. And thank you. For...everything."

"Thank you, for inviting me into your relationship."

"It's our pleasure," he murmured.

I turned the other direction, and when he rolled to his opposite side, his back didn't entirely break contact with mine. I took that as a small victory.