nsync in black and white

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment


Also inspired at fic_requests

Joey is unquestionably the luckiest man in the world.

The most beautiful, miraculous baby ever born is his little girl. His life is rich and comfortable in ways that do and don't include all the money he needs. And he has this gorgeous wife who keeps right on surprising him, even now.

Even now, as she's sitting next to the bed, saying "I want to watch." Which... well, if he wasn't in the mood before—which he was, kinda—he really is now.

So Joey strips off his underwear, checks out the bedside table for lube. Opens the drawer and selects a couple toys. Maybe he'll use them, maybe not. Depends how it goes. But Kelly's watching, and he knows how to put on a hell of a show.

He lies back on the bed, and closes his eyes.

It'd be easy to make this all about Kelly, and play to his audience, but that's not what she wants. And it isn't, really, what he wants either, because he has Kelly, and they play through the bread-and-butter sex, and the chocolate sauce sex and even the hot chili pepper sex, sometimes, and he never fantasizes about Kelly when he's on his own because... he just doesn't. He thinks about what he can't have, and what he doesn't really want, except that it's so hot...

Hot. Yeah. So... he's on the bus. Just showered, but it's hot on the bus so he lies down naked on his bunk with the curtain back. Why's it hot on the bus? Aircon—ah, hell, this is his fantasy. It's hot on the bus.

Lance is in the shower. Joey's lying on his bunk, thinking about jerking off but not quite up for it yet, heh. Lance is in the shower, though, soaping his body all over, under the hot stream of water. Eyes closed in bliss as he washes away the sweat of the night's performance. Soapy hands across his chest, sliding down his arms, his thighs, his groin. Yeah.

So now Lance has wrapped his hips in a towel, and is rubbing at his hair with another as he moves back towards the bunks. To where Joey is lying, casually fondling his cock, with the curtain back.

Spread on his double bed, Joey strokes himself gently, and lets out a little smile.

He's most of the way hard, and Lance pauses as he walks past the bunks, and he looks at Joey's cock and Joey's hand, and his lips part and his tongue comes out to lick quickly round, which gives Joey and Joey's cock all kinds of interesting notions. Joey's hand on his cock—on the bunk, on the bed—gets a little more businesslike, a little firmer, a little faster. And Lance can't move, can't take his eyes off Joey's groin.

"See something you like?" Joey asks him.

The towel falls from Lance's hand as he reaches tentatively towards Joey. Towards Joey's erection. Lance's hand slides over the top of Joey's own, and they stroke in unison until Lance mutters, "Let me. Please." So Joey lets Lance's hands take over, and they slide over him, curl round his erection, explore his sensitive balls and the delicate skin behind them, keep him pumping slowly and steadily.

Joey on the bed reaches for the lube.

Lance can't resist any longer. He lowers his head closer, licks tenderly at the spot where a little moisture is already glistening, swirls his tongue round the head of Joey's cock, takes it into his mouth. Sucking, slippery hot, hungry, his mouth works its magic and his hands never stop stroking, stoking, over his cock and balls and thighs, and Joey is so close now—

And Lance stops. His other towel is gone, and his splendid cock is as hard and straining as Joey's own. "Please, Joe," he whispers, leaning close, "I want you. I want you so much." Climbs onto the bunk and lubes himself up, and Joey has to wriggle a bit and get into the right position for this, and he lifts his legs up, over Lance's arms, and Lance pushes into him so slowly, so carefully, and it's good, it's so very good. Faster, Lance thrusts into him, faster, harder, and Joey grabs at his own cock and fists it brutally in time with the rhythm and the pressure and Lance pleading and saying his name and he comes with a groan and a shudder.

"God..." Kelly's eyes are wide and black, and she's looking at him like he's the most incredible thing she's ever seen. Shaking a little, Joey slides the dildo out, but he's too spent even to bother reaching for the Kleenex. Kelly leans over for a deep, wet kiss before she cleans his slippery belly.

"Who were you thinking about?"

"You, baby," he says, without pausing to consider.

Kelly picks up the dildo, and grins at him. "You're a bad liar, Joseph. I like that in a man."



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