Ex Libris, Ad Cubiculum
Excerpt from The Library:
I grinned as he continued to smirk. "I don't know why you're
smiling, baby." I ran a finger along his cheekbone. "You've been so
good at keeping quiet, but you know what I'm gonna do when we get
"I'm gonna really make you scream.
Ex Libris, Ad Cubiculum
I ignored him all the way home. No, not ignored – just acted
normally. Pretended I didn't notice his hand creeping up my thigh;
pretended he wasn't speeding criminally in his sex-crazed
determination to get back to our house as soon as possible. I knew he
must have had something particularly special in mind, or he would
just have stopped the car anywhere and had his way with me there and
then. Which I wouldn't have minded; but no, it seemed he wanted a
domestic setting. I kept my face motionless and emotionless; just a
little teasing. I managed to stop myself looking over to see what
sort of effect I was having on him, but I could take a guess from the
way he, as soon as we got into the house, only paused to give me a
searing kiss before pulling me off in the direction of our bedroom.
He didn't have to pull too hard, though.
I smirked a little as he pushed me back on the bed, attacking my
body with his hands and my mouth with his tongue. I let him take off
my clothes – but then I was puzzled when he stopped and sat back on
his heels on the bed, looking down at me sprawled before him.
He smiled lop-sidedly. "That looks just perfect. Now stay there,
just like that, till I get back. Oh, and close your eyes. And keep
I did so; then felt him get off the bed; then heard cupboards
opening, and rustling; then finally heard the door open and shut, and
sensed his presence leave the room.
That was a while ago now; I guess it must have been twenty
minutes. I still have my eyes closed, wondering what he has planned
this time. It doesn't take this long to melt chocolate or fetch that
frozen strawberry yogurt he likes so much, and those old Oz handcuffs
are in the bedside cabinet (I have wondered why he hangs onto those,
but they seem to do something for him so we keep them). Therefore, I
conclude it must be something that requires an unusual amount of
outside preparation. I've been passing the time imagining what he
might be going to do; it's been very… enjoyable, but my hands have
remained firmly by my sides – I'm sure he'd be most upset if I didn't
give him a chance to surprise me. Strange, I might have expected our…
encounter less than an hour earlier to have dulled his appetite a
little – but I know him better than that. The more sex Duo has, the
more he wants. Again – it suits me. We're as insatiable as each
other. I smirk quietly to myself, thinking how fortunate we are.
Well, as Duo once put it, with all that testosterone and adrenalin
floating around, how could we resist? We're gorgeous. His words, not
mine; I remember him saying them, though – he was lying in my arms in
front of that full length mirror that's on the wardrobe door –
recovering… I smirk again; funny how we got that idea at the same
time. Funny how we know what each other wants. Funny, and very, very
It's as I'm contemplating my very good fortune that I hear the
door open again, but I can tell he stays in the doorway.
"Hey." He calls me softly to open my eyes, so I do. And take a
deep breath at what I see.
He stands, leaning against the doorframe, one leg bent at the
knee, his foot flat against the frame. The pose can't help but draw
my attention to the kitten-heeled mules  and sheer stockings,
which in turn drag my hypnotised gaze up to the delectably short
skirt, then on to the fine corsetry of the bodice… He's made up too,
and smartly; in fact, the whole effect is sophisticated and classy,
rather than cheap and slutty. Not that that sort of look can't be
effective as well, as Duo found when he decided to experiment in such
a manner on a trip out one night: I only managed to last until the
nearest quiet alley before that leather skirt was round his waist and
the small frilly item he wore underneath was round his ankles, and
his back was against the wall… But no, this time is very different. I
wouldn't dare be so rash with this… vision. I smile again as he walks
slowly towards me, then sits on the end of our bed. That skirt is so
short I can see the stocking tops; the sight is too arousing for
words, and all I can do is sort of moan helplessly. I have to touch
him; I half-sit up and reach towards one lovely, smooth exposed
thigh – some part of my brain registers vaguely that it must have
been the shaving that took him so long earlier – but as I do so he
gets up again.
He smiles down at me, still propped on my elbows, from the foot of
the bed. "No, Heero, you'll have to be content with just looking for
a while. Then I might let you touch later. If you're good."
I know just what he's implying. It's not that *he's * not going to
touch *me * - he is, just not as much as I'd like. And he knows how
much I would love to get my hands on him in that outfit, but he's not
going to let me. He intends to make this last as long as possible
without seriously risking my sanity, or blood pressure. He likes to
He strolls round the bed, twitching his hips seductively from side
to side. It tests my endurance, but I lie perfectly still, and watch
him, and wait. Luckily my self-control is quite a long way above
average, and Duo knows this – so he tries extra hard.
For a short while he just watches me, a look of pure, unchecked
lust in his gaze: feeling his eyes on me is just making me more
aroused, but I keep quiet. It also gives me an opportunity to examine
his outfit in more detail. The skirt is black velvet, slightly
flared, and barely covers the tops of the stockings even when he's
standing. The bodice, too, is velvet, but a deep burgundy red. It's
laced tight and embellished with lace panels; the colour makes him
seem paler, an appearance which is also contributed to by the
application of a little pale make-up on his face. His skin is paler,
and dramatised by mascara'd lashes and lips the colour of the velvet
bodice. Although it alters his appearance quite radically, the
overall effect is not feminising – merely… androgynous. It reflects
Duo perfectly, enhancing a different side of his beauty.
As I'm still assessing his gorgeous form, he kneels slowly on the
bed. Everything he's doing is slow – drawing out his movements so
they are all sensuously emphasised. I make myself stay still; I won't
try to touch him again, as much as I want to, if it means he won't
come near. He straddles me, a knee on either side of my thighs, but
touching as little as possible. I clench my hands to stop myself from
"Very good, Heero. Let's see how long you can stay like that."
Slowly, again, he starts to touch me, very lightly, hands brushing
over my chest, circling my nipples, stroking along my neck and
collarbone. Just simple touches, but he's turning me to putty and I
hiss in pleasure, squeezing my eyes shut. He laughs softly and ghosts
his hands down over my stomach, down my sides, over my hips… then
stops. Not surprising, but still exasperating; I moan in frustration
and open my eyes, just in time to see his hands leave me and then
move onto his own body. The sight is just as arousing as the feel of
his touch; my eyes follow as he runs his hands up his thighs, then
slips one hand between them, touching the exposed skin that I can see
because the skirt rides up so far. He doesn't touch under the skirt –
he's saving that till my brain has melted even further, no doubt –
but instead slides his hands up over his hips and over the velvet
bodice, slowly and sensually, like I would do it if I wanted to tease
him, if I wanted to make him feel like I'm feeling now – like my body
is on fire, starting at the groin and travelling upwards!
He smiles as he sees the effect this is having on me. "It doesn't
feel as good as when you do it, Heero." He's slightly breathless.
I'm far more breathless as I reply: "Let me… please…"
He gives me a warning look. "Oh no, Heero. I've got other plans
first." One of his hands has trailed down into his lap now; the other
reaches behind him and brings round his braid, which he twirls round
his fingers. I know exactly what he plans to do, and moan just at the
He smiles wider, as he starts to very gently brush the end of the
braid over my erection. This activity has risen high on my list of
favourite reasons to appreciate your boyfriend's long hair. It's so
tantalisingly soft and silky… I make a guttural noise and close my
eyes again briefly. When I re-open them I make another strangled
sound of enjoyment: as he lightly strokes the end of his braid over
me, he's now advanced his other hand underneath the skirt and is
pushing that garment up so I can see what's under it.
I bite my lip and whimper with barely-suppressed excitement as I
see the satiny, lacy, *brief * article that constitutes what is
undoubtedly an expensive piece of lingerie. He's still teasing me
with his braid, and at the same time now he's slowly rubbing his own
erection through the silky underwear. The sight is wicked and sinful
and wonderful and amazingly erotic all at once; even more so, as he
looks directly into my eyes and runs his tongue invitingly over his
wine-dark lips . I can't stop myself now, I have to kiss those
lips – I reach up and put my hand at the back of his neck; he doesn't
resist, so I pull him down till we're mouth to mouth. I don't think
he can resist any longer than I can, so he's not complaining now, as
I take the opportunity to lick around and inside his mouth before our
lips actually meet. He kisses me hungrily, and I reciprocate
gratefully, glad for some real contact, and glad he seems to need it
as much as I do now. He tastes of lipstick and powder: the novelty
sends a thrill of excitement up my spine.
After a few breathtaking kisses though, his lips leave mine again,
leaving me craving more – but then I feel those lips travel down my
neck, over my shoulders, and onto my chest, kissing all the most
sensitive places that he brought to life with his hands a few minutes
ago. He very gently sucks and licks at each of my nipples, thoroughly
wetting one then playing with it with a finger as he moves onto the
My vocalisation of my excitement increases as he continues: I feel
him smile and he lifts his head and murmurs, "I guess all that
keeping quiet earlier means you have to make up for it now, hmm?"
I'm unable to respond using words, and settle for an
inadequate "Nnnnn," which accurately conveys my feelings: I agree
with him. He laughs quietly and abandons my chest in favour of
licking his way down my stomach relatively quickly – I almost think
he's taken pity on me, until he stops just before he reaches my
aching arousal, and raises himself off me just enough to slip a hand
between my thighs. As I spread them eagerly (to his amusement), he
repositions himself in a catlike crouch between my legs, and softly
starts to lick right at the top of them. I writhe and sob out my
desire as I feel him get nearer… then further away again… until
finally he stops altogether.
"Wha…?" I gasp, opening my eyes. Obviously that is what he was
waiting for: locking gazes with me, he slowly and deliberately takes
me into his mouth as I look, helpless to take my eyes from the sight.
I know he wants me to watch, so I prop myself on my elbows to see
better. It's unbelievably erotic, seeing his painted mouth pleasuring
me… I pant and whimper, feeling him slowly stroke me with lips and
tongue… He takes his time, letting me lose my mind at every sensation
washing through all my nerves, making me feel every little thing,
drawing it out… He's never been gentler; even when I feel his teeth
lightly touch me, it's still so gentle I can hardly breathe with the
tension building in my body.
I'm unable to stop myself crying out in pleasure as I feel his
fingers creep up and stroke over the deliciously sensitive skin
between my thighs. He continues doing this as he continues to bring
me higher and higher with his mouth, and my cries get a little louder
with each move he makes.
After several star-seeing minutes of this treatment, he stops and I
collapse back onto the bed, whining. Still, if he's stopped in order
to move onto even more pleasurable activities, I might be able to
He sits back on his heels, massaging himself through the skirt to
relieve some of the tension. I smirk a little, inwardly, as I realise
how much it's getting to him as well.
"God, Heero," he whispers, "if you keep on like this I'm gonna
come before you do." He smiles as he reaches down into his bodice for
something. His fingers retrieve a familiar-looking tube and he
squeezes some of the contents out onto his fingers as he leans down
to me again.
I desperately want another kiss, but he's not going to give me
one; instead, I mewl frustratedly as he leans down, almost close
enough to touch our lips together, but keeping his moving.
"I was going to try to keep you waiting longer, but I might've
known you'd make it impossible for me." I arch my back and cry out
inarticulately as I feel him press a finger inside me. He carries on
talking quietly as he strokes me. "You're just irresistible Heero.
You're sexy when you're being quiet, you're sexy when you're being
noisy… You're just a wet dream come to life, all the time." He
inserts another finger, and I cling to him, trying in vain to achieve
some sort of friction, but he's being very firm. I can tell from his
slightly ragged breathing, though, that his resolve is not quite as
solid as it was; my body's not quite had a chance to fully recover
from our earlier escapade, and I know that feeling that excites Duo
just as much as the other, different feeling when he hasn't made love
to me for a while.
"Oh god, what are you doing to me?" I hear him whisper
breathlessly. I manage to smirk, despite the considerable distraction.
"It's… more a question… of what you're going to do to me," I
reply, more breathless than him.
"I was just getting to that." He removes his fingers and I can
only lie there, panting and bereft. "Sorry darlin'," he whispers as
he rubs his hand along my inner thigh, "you might be a bit sore
"I… don't care!" I realise vaguely that I might regret it later,
but right now I just want him to do something! It'll be worth a
"Okay," he breathes, and gets to his feet so he's standing over me
on the bed. From my prone position I have quite a good view up his
skirt, and this causes me to moan and grasp tightly at the sheets to
keep from touching him or myself. I'm leaving it all up to him, just
like he wanted me to; after all, he is doing a very good job.
Slowly he reaches up under his skirt – my breath catches in my
throat – and he makes a very erotic little show of taking off that as-
arousing-off-as-on underwear, pulling up the skirt to reveal the area
he's just uncovered. I slip further out of control and towards
incoherency, biting my lip to keep myself in check.
"Look, Heero," he gestures vaguely towards his delicious exposed
flesh – as if I wasn't intently focussed on it already! He half-
giggles, but goes on in a throaty, sexy whisper as he gets back down
on his knees. "I'm wet for you Heero –" I react in pleasure at his
words, making increasingly frequent little whimpering sounds in my
throat; a little sexy narrative always turns us both on immensely,
and this is no exception. We were unable to take advantage of it
earlier, so he's eager to use it now, and it seems to have a
concentrated effect on me too. He applies a little more lube to
himself quickly, groaning softly; I realise he's had hardly any
direct stimulation, but I sense that doesn't really matter. He pauses
for just a moment, finishing the sentence he began: " – just like a
real girl would be."
Then… heat and pressure and fulfilment all flood through me; in
contrast to his smooth, slow-motion foreplay, he thrusts into me
roughly, and I cry out. The change in pace is a wonderful
gratification: the waiting and teasing was causing a delicious aching
inside me, and this variation strikes right at that ache and
transforms it into brilliant colours and deep sensation. I bring my
arms up and hang on desperately to him, as he continues the monologue
that accompanies his movement.
"Is that why you like me to dress up like this, Heero? 'Cos you
wish I was a real girl?"
I can't speak, I can only shake my head. I know this is just part
of his little plan, but I reassure him anyway. We've been through
this together; there's something almost dangerously erotic about
being fucked by him dressed like this, and it worried him a little,
until we worked it out: I think – no, I know – I only find it so
intense because… it's *him *. I find myself inextricably drawn to him
constantly, so when he shows me another facet of himself, physical or
otherwise, I can't help but be just as fascinated. He understands me;
it excites him too, because he loves to toy with me – and that's just
what he's doing now.
"Would you like that? If *this * - " he thrusts deeper into me to
emphasise, and I cry out, louder than before, " – wasn't real?"
I shake my head again, eyes closed but imagining the look on his
face. Just a hint of dark teasing in his eyes…
"That's good, Heero. I'm glad you're not wishing I was someone
else," he's getting more breathless, "because no-one else is ever
going to get a chance to do the things I do with you, ever,
understand, Heero?" I nod, eyes still closed, he's panting now as
much as I am, I can tell he's as close as me… His possessive words
set light to something inside me and I'm pleading wordlessly and I
open my eyes and look into his just in time to see him whisper
fiercely "You're mine, Heero Yuy!" and I scream…
I really scream as he thrusts deeply into my body and strikes my
sweet spot, hard; scream as I feel my body tense, and warmth explode
through me; scream as I see and feel sparks tingling everywhere
Scream, then instantly hear my name spill from his lips with a few
ecstatic blasphemies, and feel his body shudder as he follows my
Then we're slowly coming down, trembling, and he holds me close,
whispering in my ear words that I can't quite make out for a moment.
I hear my name, and respond instinctively, the only thing I can think
at the moment.
"Duo… I love you." I'm still trying to catch my breath.
He pulls away slightly to smile at me. "That good, huh?"
I stare at him, and he smiles wider.
"I was asking if you enjoyed that. I take it you did, hmm?" He
kisses me gently, and I nod. "I didn't hurt you?"
I shake my head. "Not yet."
He laughs a little. "Well, I'm always willing to let you get your
own back. But like I said before, this was only… a demonstration."
"Yes. Of my plans for next time."
I smirk, and so does he. I remember what he means: his public sex
fetish, like all his other fetishes, suits me perfectly. Just like
mine suit him.
"Well," I pretend to think for a minute, even though I know
perfectly well what he's implying, "don't we have that dinner
engagement next week?"
"At that very expensive and exclusive restaurant?"
"With those very important dignitaries?"
Our gazes meet and we both snicker. Then he looks down at himself,
and shakes his head.
"That's two outfits in one day! I'd better get them dry-cleaned…
especially this one."
I feel a tingle run up my spine as I remember what he's referring
to, and look forward to what he promises. Then I look where he's
looking, and snicker again. "I think you better had."
 Of course Hee-chan knows what they're called, he picked them ^_~
 My Homer-reference for the day. Banshi'll know what I'm talking