much to do, so little time
“So much to do….” Sandburg muttered under his breath as he circumnavigated the island unit for the fourteenth time, “…so little time!” Ellison was getting dizzy watching him. He finally gave in to his base instincts and grabbed a handful of his guide.
“C’mon Blair, give it a rest….” Sandburg tugged himself free of the restraining hand and went back to his fruitless pacing. “Yeah, easy for you to say, man, you’re not the one with a term paper due in and nothing to write about, you’re not the one who has eight students depending on him to get their grades up, you’re not the one who has to plan, cook and serve up Christmas dinner for twelve people, you’re not the one….”
Ellison physically inserted his body between Blair and his intended destination, causing the younger man to thump into him.
“Blair, you’re gonna give yourself an ulcer. Sit down and relax.” He pulled Sandburg to the couch and forced him down onto the soft cushions. “Take off your shoes,” he instructed softly.
Blair looked like he was about to argue, and then decided that maybe he could do with wiggling his toes a little, as stress relief, you know? He bent and began undoing the laces as Jim arranged the throw cushions behind him to a more comfortable position. When Blair kicked of his shoes, Jim reached down and grabbed one of his naked feet.
“Have I ever given you one of my patented foot massages, chief?”
Blair was speechless. Jim had his foot in his hand! Jim was *touching* his toes! Oh, God! Jim was rubbing his instep and he couldn’t help himself, he groaned. Jim seemed to take this as a sign of pleasure (which, of course, it was) and squeezed Blair’s toes firmly between strong fingers.
Blair let his head fall back against the arm of the couch and closed his eyes. Jim was good at this. Really, *really* good at it. He felt all the tension begin to seep out of his body as his muscles relaxed and another small moan escaped his lips. He forgot why he had been so wound up, forgot the tests he was supposed to be marking, forgot the meal he was supposed to be planning, forgot the fact that he had no material for his term paper and sighed. None of that meant a damned thing, so long as Jim Ellison continued to caress his tootsies like that.
Jim let Blair’s relaxed foot rest in his lap while he reached for the other one, and Blair manfully resisted the urge to wiggle his toes against the heat of Jim’s groin. He was enjoying this WAY too much to jeopardize it by doing anything to make Jim stop. Several minutes went by where Blair’s only response to Jim’s enquiries as to the quality of the foot massage, was a series of muffled grunts and groans. Slowly, he became aware that the nature of the touching had changed. Where at first it had been firm and businesslike, now Jim’s fingers slid over the soft flesh slowly, more of a caress now than a foot rub. Blair risked opening one eye.
Jim’s head was resting against the back of the couch and his eyes were closed. His chest was rising and falling, drawing short, panting breaths into his lungs as his fingers moved across Blair’s skin, like those of a lover.
Blair’s jaw fell open as he watched. Shit! Jim was zoning out… on Blair Sandburg’s feet! It was almost funny, but more than that, it was incredibly erotic. Experimentally, Blair shifted his free foot, which was still resting in Jim’s lap. Oh yeah, we have wood; we have a whole Godammed rainforest here! Jim groaned and rocked his hips, pressing closer to Blair’s bare foot. Blair skimmed the sole of his foot gently over the rapidly swelling bulge but stopped short of wiggling his toes.
As a guide, he had a responsibility here, a duty to protect his Sentinel. Getting the man ‘off’ with his toes while he was in the throes of a full-fledged zone out was not the most responsible thing for him to do right now. Tempting, sure, but not well advised. When Jim snapped out of it, he would probably strangle Blair for even thinking about it.
Blair tugged his foot free from Jim’s grip and sat up. He leaned close and used his ‘guide voice’ to break Jim’s concentration. “Jim, can you hear me? Come back to me, man.” He nearly jumped out of his skin when two ice blue eyes snapped open and Jim frowned at him, not in the slightest bit dazed or unfocused.
“What’s up, Chief, didn’t you like the massage?”
Blair’s jaw fell open for the second time that night. He stared at his partner like he had two heads. “Ah, Jim, you have an erection.” It came out sounding quite matter-of-fact, despite the faint quaver in his voice. Jim smiled and pushed him backwards until he was lying on the couch.
“So do you, Blair.” He pointed out, rubbing his thigh against the evidence.
Blair wasn’t a man who looked gift horses in the mouth, and it would seem that the object of his nightly jerk-off fantasies wasn’t quite as unobtainable as he had first thought. And this was one hell of a good lesson in stress relief. Blair grinned back at his partner and gyrated his own hips.
“Does this mean the massage is over? I was kinda enjoying that.”
Jim leaned down and kissed him until he was gasping for breath. His eyes roamed over Blair’s face, his chest, his whole body, and in a passable impersonation of his guide, he whispered, “So much to do, so little time.”
Send feedback to Nicci
Go back to Home Page