Talking Points
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Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
784
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Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
784
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Talking Points
Title - Talking Points
Pairing - James Guckert x Scott McClellan
Rating - NC-17 for explicit scenes and light S&M military roleplay
Author\'s Note - If you didn\'t know yet, James Guckert is a fake reporter who received press passes to the White House on numerous occasions, during which he asked slanted, obviously right-wing partisan questions in order to make the Republicans look good. He was recently exposed for also being a gay male prostitute (see previous entries)...and yes, his site does advertise him as a military-style top. I figure some relation with the press secretary shouldn\'t be far off.
Disclaimer - No, I do not own James Guckert or Scott McClellan. There is no conceivable way someone like myself could afford a high-priced prostitute (not that I\'d want one), and there is absolutely no reason I would want to buy the White House press secretary. Except maybe to edit my journalism essay. But then, I\'d probably be better off getting Jon Stewart to do that instead. I\'m not paid for doing this either.
The door clicked closed.
None of the other doors in the White House closed that way. They all either swung in soundlessly or slipped into place crisply or, in rare (and usually nightmarish PR) instances, slammed shut with a bang. But no, this one was different. This one just had to squeak the tiniest bit, despite everything he tried on the hinges, before a smooth slide into the notch followed by that final click. The click that told him Guckert was here.
\"Same room, Scottie? Doesn\'t it get a bit dull?\" McClellan swallowed at the sound of that voice.
\"Just make this quick. There\'s a press meeting in 20 minutes.\"
\"Patience, patience. We\'ll be done in time.\" James glided almost cat-like across the polished floor, eyes drifting over him lazily.
\"Yes, well, it better be.\" The other smirked at these words, continuing his languid appraisal of the dark, mirror-smooth hair, the neat straight-man\'s tie, gaze seeming to wonder everywhere. Scott fidgeted in annoyed anticipation. Why did he insist on this little charade every time? But then, they\'d said he was good when they hired him, and just how good...well, that was decided on the first day. Or rather, night.
Abruptly, James halted before the press secretary. Leaning in close, he paused briefly at the edge of the other\'s ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. Scott shivered. It had been uncomfortable at first, he shedding those layers that came so naturally from dealing with the media hounds every day, Guckert slowly warming to the idea that yes, he could and would indeed enjoy teasing the White House tops. And oh, how he teased.
\"Well, shall we begin?\" Without waiting for an answer, the taller man pressed him hard against the cold, lacquered wall, mouth dipping to catch his lips in a searing kiss. McClellan moaned into the hot wetness, quivering as deft fingers slipped around the back of his neck and clenched in his hair. He eagerly welcomed the hot, rough tongue that caressed the inside of his cheek, making its way along each perfectly aligned tooth (an essential necessity for any press rep) to ravage every corner of his being. Finally, reluctantly, James broke the kiss, stepping back a pace to shoot a salacious grin at the flushed and...very excited press secretary. It was time for the real fun to begin.
\"At attention, soldier. I want to hear all the lines. To perfection.\" The taller man glared at him with cold, glinting eyes, each sentence clipped in a precise military tone. A sexual tone. \"And that\'s a direct order.\" Shivers ran down Scott\'s spine at the words, so crisp and harsh in that no bullshit seargeant\'s tone of voice. A deep voice that rolled over him in roiling waves. Ah yes, this was what it all came down to...the commands...the absolute control...and when he slipped, the discipline. Hard, rough discipline.
\"Yes, sir!\" Scott snapped to attention (at least, as best he knew how), and started reciting.
\"The President\'s Social Security policy is designed to - \" A knee ground into his groin, massaging against it slowly, sensuously as he stood fully erect. \" - to...to str-stren-strengthen...oh God - \" Scott thrust into the firm flesh, blood rushing like a fever to his arousal. He couldn\'t...couldn\'t concentrate. No, not with this -
A sharp, painful nip brought him back. \"What was that, soldier? Still don\'t have your lines down right?\" James sucked languorously on the end of his collarbone, one hand slipping beneath his shirt to tweak a nipple in warning.
\"A-Ah! I...no, I have them!\" He stood ever straighter, barely able to fight back the shudders of pleasure that coursed like electricity through his body. Lucidly, he could see every olive and tan print on the other\'s jacket - a distinct, unmistakable military fashion. Along with the shaved head, it made the sometimes reporter look veritably domineering, almost menacing. Just the way he liked it.
\"Perfect...\" James grinned evilly. \"A good soldier always...perseveres.\" With that, he quickly undid the other\'s belt, pushing the expensive, custom-tailored pants roughly to the ground. \"Well, Scottie, looks like the President\'s not the only one who has wood, so to speak.\" Smirking, he took the other\'s length into his mouth, sucking slowly on the head before working his way gradually up.
\"O-Oh...James, you - ah!\" Guckert gave an artful twirl of the tongue, tickling his tip, before engulfing his length entirely. Scott\'s breath caught in his throat for one one-thousand...two one-thousand...then escaped from him in a squeak (the similarity to the door hinge did not go unnoticed) as his heart double-, no, triple-timed its hammering in his chest. His hips bucked forward, seeking to penetrate further into that delicious wetness...
\"You...salute so well, soldier...\" James purred as he moved faster in time with the thrusts, rocking back and forth in an ever increasing rhythm. Each dip forward drew Scott harder, deeper into that void, so darkly mesmerizing, until he tumbled over the precipice in explosive climax.
\"God, James you...Ah-Ahhh!\" With a cry, he came in the other\'s mouth, hot seed bursting forth as his hands scrabbled at the unyielding wall against his back. Despite the fervor of the moment, Scott still managed somehow to hold that stiff military pose for a few seconds, before finally succumbing as he fell heavily against the taller man. Briefly, he felt himself held in a close embrace, breathing in the pungent smell of sweat and sex on smooth, tanned skin. Then, Guckert pushed away, gathering himself coolly as if nothing had happened. A few long strides, and he was at the door, once again the Republican operative. Pausing, he turned to shoot a playful grin.
\"So Scottie, how about that press briefing?\"
Pairing - James Guckert x Scott McClellan
Rating - NC-17 for explicit scenes and light S&M military roleplay
Author\'s Note - If you didn\'t know yet, James Guckert is a fake reporter who received press passes to the White House on numerous occasions, during which he asked slanted, obviously right-wing partisan questions in order to make the Republicans look good. He was recently exposed for also being a gay male prostitute (see previous entries)...and yes, his site does advertise him as a military-style top. I figure some relation with the press secretary shouldn\'t be far off.
Disclaimer - No, I do not own James Guckert or Scott McClellan. There is no conceivable way someone like myself could afford a high-priced prostitute (not that I\'d want one), and there is absolutely no reason I would want to buy the White House press secretary. Except maybe to edit my journalism essay. But then, I\'d probably be better off getting Jon Stewart to do that instead. I\'m not paid for doing this either.
The door clicked closed.
None of the other doors in the White House closed that way. They all either swung in soundlessly or slipped into place crisply or, in rare (and usually nightmarish PR) instances, slammed shut with a bang. But no, this one was different. This one just had to squeak the tiniest bit, despite everything he tried on the hinges, before a smooth slide into the notch followed by that final click. The click that told him Guckert was here.
\"Same room, Scottie? Doesn\'t it get a bit dull?\" McClellan swallowed at the sound of that voice.
\"Just make this quick. There\'s a press meeting in 20 minutes.\"
\"Patience, patience. We\'ll be done in time.\" James glided almost cat-like across the polished floor, eyes drifting over him lazily.
\"Yes, well, it better be.\" The other smirked at these words, continuing his languid appraisal of the dark, mirror-smooth hair, the neat straight-man\'s tie, gaze seeming to wonder everywhere. Scott fidgeted in annoyed anticipation. Why did he insist on this little charade every time? But then, they\'d said he was good when they hired him, and just how good...well, that was decided on the first day. Or rather, night.
Abruptly, James halted before the press secretary. Leaning in close, he paused briefly at the edge of the other\'s ear, warm breath tickling the sensitive skin. Scott shivered. It had been uncomfortable at first, he shedding those layers that came so naturally from dealing with the media hounds every day, Guckert slowly warming to the idea that yes, he could and would indeed enjoy teasing the White House tops. And oh, how he teased.
\"Well, shall we begin?\" Without waiting for an answer, the taller man pressed him hard against the cold, lacquered wall, mouth dipping to catch his lips in a searing kiss. McClellan moaned into the hot wetness, quivering as deft fingers slipped around the back of his neck and clenched in his hair. He eagerly welcomed the hot, rough tongue that caressed the inside of his cheek, making its way along each perfectly aligned tooth (an essential necessity for any press rep) to ravage every corner of his being. Finally, reluctantly, James broke the kiss, stepping back a pace to shoot a salacious grin at the flushed and...very excited press secretary. It was time for the real fun to begin.
\"At attention, soldier. I want to hear all the lines. To perfection.\" The taller man glared at him with cold, glinting eyes, each sentence clipped in a precise military tone. A sexual tone. \"And that\'s a direct order.\" Shivers ran down Scott\'s spine at the words, so crisp and harsh in that no bullshit seargeant\'s tone of voice. A deep voice that rolled over him in roiling waves. Ah yes, this was what it all came down to...the commands...the absolute control...and when he slipped, the discipline. Hard, rough discipline.
\"Yes, sir!\" Scott snapped to attention (at least, as best he knew how), and started reciting.
\"The President\'s Social Security policy is designed to - \" A knee ground into his groin, massaging against it slowly, sensuously as he stood fully erect. \" - to...to str-stren-strengthen...oh God - \" Scott thrust into the firm flesh, blood rushing like a fever to his arousal. He couldn\'t...couldn\'t concentrate. No, not with this -
A sharp, painful nip brought him back. \"What was that, soldier? Still don\'t have your lines down right?\" James sucked languorously on the end of his collarbone, one hand slipping beneath his shirt to tweak a nipple in warning.
\"A-Ah! I...no, I have them!\" He stood ever straighter, barely able to fight back the shudders of pleasure that coursed like electricity through his body. Lucidly, he could see every olive and tan print on the other\'s jacket - a distinct, unmistakable military fashion. Along with the shaved head, it made the sometimes reporter look veritably domineering, almost menacing. Just the way he liked it.
\"Perfect...\" James grinned evilly. \"A good soldier always...perseveres.\" With that, he quickly undid the other\'s belt, pushing the expensive, custom-tailored pants roughly to the ground. \"Well, Scottie, looks like the President\'s not the only one who has wood, so to speak.\" Smirking, he took the other\'s length into his mouth, sucking slowly on the head before working his way gradually up.
\"O-Oh...James, you - ah!\" Guckert gave an artful twirl of the tongue, tickling his tip, before engulfing his length entirely. Scott\'s breath caught in his throat for one one-thousand...two one-thousand...then escaped from him in a squeak (the similarity to the door hinge did not go unnoticed) as his heart double-, no, triple-timed its hammering in his chest. His hips bucked forward, seeking to penetrate further into that delicious wetness...
\"You...salute so well, soldier...\" James purred as he moved faster in time with the thrusts, rocking back and forth in an ever increasing rhythm. Each dip forward drew Scott harder, deeper into that void, so darkly mesmerizing, until he tumbled over the precipice in explosive climax.
\"God, James you...Ah-Ahhh!\" With a cry, he came in the other\'s mouth, hot seed bursting forth as his hands scrabbled at the unyielding wall against his back. Despite the fervor of the moment, Scott still managed somehow to hold that stiff military pose for a few seconds, before finally succumbing as he fell heavily against the taller man. Briefly, he felt himself held in a close embrace, breathing in the pungent smell of sweat and sex on smooth, tanned skin. Then, Guckert pushed away, gathering himself coolly as if nothing had happened. A few long strides, and he was at the door, once again the Republican operative. Pausing, he turned to shoot a playful grin.
\"So Scottie, how about that press briefing?\"