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Some days you get exactly what you hoped for, a quiet afternoon snuggled up with a warm beverage, a steamy shower before bed, and maybe even some much needed rest.
Unfortunately, some other days, you're trudging through the forest with an empty stomach and a chip on your shoulder. Did you need to pick up the phone? Sure it was early, and you perhaps weren't thinking clearly when you saw that it was your research partner, but this was not on the list of ways you'd hoped the morning would unfold. That damned voice of his asking you to come along. That stupid moment of thinking it was maybe a date. That even stupider moment of agreeing to rush right over without looking at the time and stopping to say “oh hey, maybe we ought to eat given the hour and the fact you want us to haul ass over uneven terrain and bushwack our own trail!”
“Just a little further” Ford promised for the umpteenth time, your eyes rolling. How was the geezer still going without so much as a hitch in his breathing? That stupid, salt and pepper, stoic, admittedly hot old man.
Sure he was grey, but he was definitely still a fox! The confidence in his work was the perfect offset to the shy way he'd talk when you managed to squeeze anything personal from him. Months of working together on the anomaly and ecology project had brought a lot to light, though more questions seemed to be uprooted the deeper you dug. Strange happening seemed to arise at every corner, yet your partner treated it all like another day in the neighborhood. Some slips had revealed he knew more about the whole thing than he had let on, whispers around town about him returning after years of being impersonated by his twin, of a near apocalypse, but most folk held that tale close to their chest around here. Some seemed to forget it completely. Others told what you were sure were tall tales, but through the anomalous research you began to question the reality you'd become so accustomed to.
Snapping of a branch snapped you back to reality with it. Stinging of your face hard to ignore, even Ford broke his focus on hiking when you let out a frustrated grunt.
“I'm so sorry!” Ford fumbled, “I thought you'd had a grasp on it, are you hurt?”
“It's fine. I'm fine.” You huffed “hungry, but otherwise fine,” came the correction.
“You didn't eat.” Ford realized aloud, brows furrowing together.
“No Ford, when you said extremely urgent I was expecting, I don't know, an explosion, a cleanup, and breakfast. Not so much the trudging out to one of the censors to do Gods know what.”
“Ah yes, well, I commend your dedication. You've always been an excellent companion in the search for scientific truths. In the future I'll do better to elaborate the nature of the emergency, if you decide you'll still put up with me after this expedition.” Ford paused his rambling “And if our grant gets renewed.”
You both paused as the last part hung in the air. It felt so final to think how close the deadline was getting to present your findings, including some kind of angle to convince the board to keep the project funded. No pressure.
“Yeah,” you managed, taking a step forward “better get to the spot then. Keep this ball rolling.”
Ford chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, seemed you'd picked up some of his sayings through your shared time. This time he held the branch and let you pass in front of him. You could have sworn his little smile faltered a bit looking the direction the two of you headed.
What felt like hours, but was most likely just the one, as well as a surprising amount of snacks pulled from Fords field pack saw you fed and in range of the censor that had sent back strange readings before promptly taking itself offline. Could be a simple battery issue, but it was better to set up one of the spares to avoid the unit repeating itself.
All in all, it wasn't a bad spot. The canopy above split enough for rays of sunshine to weave themselves through to lush carpeted forest floor, a golden glittering waterfall of light. Those waves were refreshing, as was the bubbling of the nearby stream. You remembered the little swimming spot hidden a ways up, spring fed, from when you'd initially done the setup of censors and trail cams. Maybe Ford would be up for a swim, finally get him out of that turtleneck. What was he hiding under that little number anyhow? How much would he strip off before taking the plunge?
You shook your head, trying to dislodge the thought from your mind, blinking the salacious thing away.
“Focus” you muttered under your breath, “do not do this right now, you've got a job to do.”
The situation was not helped by spotting Fords shirt rising ever so slightly as he dismounted the nearest trail cam from its tree. With the temperature steadily climbing his usual coat had found a place draped over his field pack. A big breath, and you made your way over to set up the card reader and laptop to see if the thing caught what could have had the censor go haywire. Finding no better spot, you set your own pack down in the clearing next to some wild strawberries. The cool mossy earth made a delightful change from the ever warming air. Was it this warm in town?
Ford cleared his throat and handed you the SD card he had pulled from the camera as he started to pace.
“The hike up not enough for you?” You teased the man as he looked around at the treeline.
“Just a bit restless. You'd think such a beautiful spot would have a more calming effect…” he trailed off into his own mumbling thoughts.
“I've got that same feeling. What did you have in those snacks? I haven't had this type of energy since, well, I'm not sure actually.”
“Amphetamines.” Ford answered cooly. He looked over at you with a glint in his eye.
“Oh har har old man,” you laughed, your companion smiled back.
“That joke was funnier back in the day,” he commented before scribbling down some notes as he meandered around.
It didn't take long to get the card formatted and start exploring the files. Trees, a bug on the lense, deer fucking, trees, birds, raccoons getting busy, branch falling, that powdery glitter, a couple more animals going at it, and then the censor getting knocked over by a squirrel. Cool. About an hour's hike to see animals getting some while you thirsted over the research partner who was too polite to tell you to dream on. You rubbed your temples.
“Find the issue?” Ford asked as he changed his course of pacing, tucking his notes away.
“Found lots of evidence of the mammals working towards that population growth we've been seeing the past couple years.” You clicked through the files and stopped at the strange glitter cloud again, realizing all at once that there shouldn't be glitter out here. Maybe the strange presence of the twinkling plastic in the lab and shack had desensitized you.
Your quick change of demeanor caught Fords attention. Instead of further questioning he made his way around you to peek at the screen. There it was, clear as day, a puff of glitter. Damn he was so close. Did he always smell this good or was it just the forest scent clinging to his sweat. Would his sweat taste salty or have a tinge of something more? Why was he looking at you like you'd just done something strange?
Oh no. You definitely took a big breath in when he had gotten close. Your ears burned and you pushed the laptop off to him before pacing the route he had.
“Glitter in the woods is weird right?” You half asked half stated.
“It's certainly unusual. Did you see the time stamps on each of the recordings? Seems as though the…incidents…all occurred around the same time of day. Must be something with the trail cam as well, there is some kind of static movement. Almost looks like dust.”
It was hard to keep track of his words when your mind was wandering to the way his mouth moved. That shy little smirk about incidents. The curled finger adjusting his turtleneck as he looked at you for a response. A strange look in his eye as you stopped your pacing, so close to him. So very close. Your head grew hazier the longer you focused on those wonderful sparkling eyes.
“Your pupils are massive” Ford mused, shifting from his place on the ground. “They almost seem to glitter in the-”
“Glitter!” You said snapping back from whatever la la land you'd let the warm air and proximity lull you into. “The recording of the glitter explosion, what's the time stamp?”
“Oh, yes, that seems to be approximately 5 minutes before the raccoons copulated. So, about quarter after…” that focused crinkle was back. Ford checked his watch, then his head shot up, looking at the surroundings. The laptop fell to the side as he stumbled to brace himself against a tree.
“Ford?! What the hell? Are you okay?”
“We have to leave. Right now!”
“Why? What's the matter?”
“Good news, we may have an explanation to the population increase. Bad news is-” his words faltered as your panicked eyes caught his. Crimson spread across his cheeks. He pulled in a deep breath. “Bad news is, we may be experiencing part of the phenomena. That static I noticed in the footage, it wasn't digital, it's hard to see unless the light hits it just right. ”
Bad news? Maybe it was the plant dust, glitter, excretion, whatever it should be categorized as, talking but it sure didn't feel like bad news. Ford was hot when he was flustered. That blush heating his face, the way his eyes looked anyplace but you. His hand dipping down into his rumpled coat to retrieve his notebook. Those hands were simply sinful.
“We may be able to hurry back to the shack, isolate? Make something to counter the effects? Without our gear it'll be quicker” he thought aloud. You tried to focus on rationality, save some dignity instead of throwing yourself at him. Logic wasn't on the side of his plan though.
“Ford it took us about an hour to get here, clear headed. If there is some kind of psychoactive element we could get lost just trying to retrace our path.”
“You're right,” he conceded “not to mention the risk of running into other people on the way back to the shack, embarrassing at best, given the circumstances.”
“The circumstances being that we may jump their bones you mean? That there is some intoxicant making us pent up and no cold shower in sight?” Ford cringed as you felt the words slip past your lips. Why did you have to pick up the phone this morning? Why did you follow the smart bespectacled man with the dry wit and gleaming smile into the fuck forest of all places? How were you ever going to look him in his dumb handsome face again?
It was your turn to look everywhere but him. Fuck it was getting hot. Shedding your coat gave little relief. Your pacing began again. It's so hard to think without letting those imaginings from earlier slip back in, the way Ford bit his lip, the happy trail you spotted when he reached for the cam, the idea of him peeling out of that turtleneck to hop into-
“The river! Ford! We can try to wash off in the river! There is a little pool that feeds it not too far away if we need to really get it off!”
“Brilliant, great, get off- rinse, go, yes” Ford replied, stumbling over himself and his words. Obviously you weren't the only one affected, though you were curious by the extent.
Ford sped towards the water, dropping his coat next to the laptop and the packs as he went. Such a great view of his ass as he maneuvered down to splash his face. Since this would probably solve it, what was the harm in taking a couple extra glances before rinsing? Basking in the glow of it all? Finding a spot next to him at the little bank to refresh was natural, the woods could still have other dangers after all. Strength in numbers, in unity, in those forearms that were revealed when Ford pushed his sleeves up past his elbows.
His hand splashed up at his face again, trailing up his chin, over his nose, his forehead, back over his eye, his other hand holding his glasses. Some caught stray hairs, plastering them to his face. Your fingers brushed them back, Ford flew back in response, crab crawling away, flushed.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, realizing just how badly you needed to rinse whatever this stuff was away. The water wasn't nearly as cold as you had thought, but it stung against your heated skin in the most peculiar way. Some clarity seemed to come back to you with the grounding effect of cleansing.
Feeling refreshed, as well as embarrassed, the two of you returned to the packs, chatting idly, ignoring the uncomfortable fact that you'd come into contact with what seemed to be a strong aphrodisiac. Trying to stay somewhat professional was about the only course that wouldn't further the tension.
“We should collect samples. Seeing as we know the component is freshly released,” Ford spoke “I've got some swabs in my bag, to be careful we should avoid that area,” he pointed towards the censor, “as to not mess with anything at the approximate originating point. Reduce the risks of further exposure, rinse often, then, well, hopefully the dust will have settled. If not, we cross that bridge when we get to it.”
He sounded more sure than you felt. Regardless, it was something to focus in that wasn't pressing yourself against the man you'd done so well to keep your cool with. His back had no reason to flex so well when he dug through equipment. It was so easy to imagine the way the muscles moved, how they'd feel under your fingers as you…maybe you'd need to return to the stream again.
“Ford I think I need another rinse, you alright?”
“Hm? Yes, yes, I'll be, just going to stay put for another few moments. Do you have something to record findings? If not, I think I've got a spare notepad in here.”
“I think I've got something in my pack, let me check” you say, squatting next to the man to dig through your own affects. Sneaking glances, it seemed that your research partner wasn't fairing much better than you were. Hard to tell if it was remaining stream water or sweat, but there was something collecting along his furrowed brow as he rooted around his bag.
A huff of frustration. You caught Ford glancing over at you. “It has occurred to me,” he began “that rinsing may not be enough. Given the spread, my theory is that it's absorbed through the mucus membranes, that way it isn't immediately flushed through the system, but it's causing some sort of odd reactions in the mammals it comes in contact with. Immune maybe? One of the chemicals in its makeup causes some kind of endocrine reaction perhaps? The water only seems to give a momentary repreive.It's hard to say but, unfortunately,” he trails a bit, looking at his hands, “unfortunately, I think we need to wait for the reaction to naturally conclude. Document what we can. Avoid unnecessary complications and stress. Do you concur?”
“Documenting the physiological reactions, that sounds manageable, reasonable, should do nose and cheek swabs too right? Samples for back at the lab?”
“That's an excellent idea, you're quite good under pressure.” Ford smiled, moving to hand you sealed swab kits.
“Imagine how good I could be under-” your eyes went wide at the words escaping your mouth, having intended to keep them in. Luckily your notepad was within reach at this point. “I'm going to go sit over there and document, and try not to talk too much, don't want to say anything too unprofessional.”
You swore Ford had let something of his own escape his mind and find the world but a pit forming further in your stomach drove you away to find some semblance of privacy. It stung to move further from him. You wanted to be closer, to feel the warmth of him, have his voice soothe the ache, how much of this could you put in notes before it was considered harassment as opposed to accurately recording the effects?
The two of you sat agonizingly quietly for what felt like eternity,taking note of the ever growing reaction, but the sun hadn't moved, hardly any time had passed. The ache became harder to ignore.
“We should compare notes, find the overlaps” Fords voice seemed to echo in your ears. He sounded strained. “For, for example, I'm experiencing what I can best describe as a rise in temperature, though not having a thermometer, it could simply be an altered sensation or imput issue.”
“Same here, do you feel stuffy? Like smothered by it almost?” you called, scooching slowly towards his voice.
“Yes. The sensation is both too much but leaves me craving something. More pressure?” came the response along with a shuffling.
“Kind of contradictory but in my case it's almost craving more heat, I feel like I'm melting, but I need something else.”
“What else?” He sounded so close.
“Contact,” you mustered, feeling something press to your side, stopping your movement. Fords eyes met yours, his pupils blown wide, a dazzling effect with his glasses. The pressure of his arm against yours was intoxicating. Neither of you could bring yourselves to move, both caught in the act of seeking the other out. Your heart pounded. Breath hard to catch. His face was so close, so far, the heat radiating off of him, the scent of his detergent, his sweat, his being seeped into your senses. Things had never felt so vivid yet so muddled, like a power you'd yet to know.
“We…I…you…” Ford stammered. Your breath caught. Uncertainty filling the tiny space between you. His pinky brushed yours, tentative, testing. So different from the cool moss that covered the ground under your hand. “I'm sorry for putting you in this situation.”
“We are partners Ford” you assured. He tensed, hesitantly drawing his hand away. Your pinky extended slightly, catching his. His body shuddered from his rough intake of air.
“I saw today going differently, some breakthrough, a way to permanently secure funding, or at least extend it, then maybe…”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe, maybe more time with you.”
“Oh.”
Words hung in the air, head hazy, mind spinning. His pinky rubbed against yours. Ford had a far off, dreamy look, the sea of green offsetting his profile so intoxicatingly. Shifting, you put pressure on the hand so close to his, letting the other reach out to brush back his hair. It was soft, the silver especially eye-catching as you let your fingers slide through it, nails gently brushing his scalp.
A moan escaped him from the contact. You pressed your thighs together, shaking slightly with imbalance. He shifted to his knees, hand snaking to your waist, pulling your body against his. So solid, so warm, stable, betrayed by the uneven breaths that he struggled to take. The hands that initiated the contact became intertwined, the friction of the shift sparking something more. How easily his hand enveloped yours, the extra digit leaving no escape. You could tell he felt it too. Every breath you took pressed the two of you closer. Eyes searching each other for trepidation, finding none, slowly drifting shut.
His lips were so much softer than you had imagined, gentle against yours, hesitant. It was charming. Your hand left his, wrapping around his neck, his hand joining the other at your waist. Where his lips felt nervous his hands held stable, how one man could be so many things was boggling.
Parting ever so slightly, eyes fluttering open, you drank in the sight of him.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I'm not sure how much more I can take, it's, you're, we shouldn't.”
Those words struck something deep. Yes, you were both under the influence of whatever this was, but was it really so hard to want this? To want you? Maybe it was cruel but this wasn't something you were going to let go. To hell with playing it off anymore!
“Ford,” you started, thumb stroking his cheek, “why shouldn't we?”
His eyes searched yours, unsteady, confused. The firm grasp on your waist adjusted slightly as he sat back on his feet.
“You don't want this, you're not in your right mind,” he managed as you pressed against him. Slightest of friction sending sparks up your spine. “If you're in half the state I am, your head must be swimming, you'll be aching for more, and I can't take advantage of you like that, especially considering…”
“You're right,” you hummed, Fords grip faltering slightly. His eyes drifted closed as he pulled further away, fully sitting, trying to center his own drowning thoughts. What little self control he had left pressing his hands down at his sides.You continued to search for that pressure, moving slowly, but deliberately to straddle his lap. His eyes flung open at the sensation of you pressing against him again, frozen in place.
“Ford, you are right,” you repeated, “I am aching. I have been aching, yearning, wanting for more for so long now.” You could feel how much he ached as you tentatively pressed down on him.
His breath quickened “Please, you're just pent up, you don't want this,” he argued, hands wandering up to your hips,hovering ever so close.
“But I do, I want this, I want you,” you assured, heavy head resting against his shoulder, the heat rising as you felt his hands secure you in place. “So many times I've thought about this, how your hands would feel on me, your mouth on mine, your-”
His mouth met your neck, pulling a gasp where words tried to form. Hot breath tingling against damp skin. A soft grunt escaping as he used his grip to press your hips to his, grinding up against you.
“I've dreamed about you” he kissed into your neck, “about your hands in my hair just like this, the pretty sounds you'd make, how good it would be to feel you.”
Moans escaped the two of you as you pressed and rocked against him, meeting his motions, spurring each other on.
“I've wanted you from that first smile,” he panted, deliciously desperate, “craved your attentions, the sound of your voice, but I kept it in. Fuck, I couldn't let you know, it would ruin everything, chase you away.”
“I'm right here Ford,” you groaned as his mouth moved along your neck, a quickened pulse vibrating against his every kiss. Hunger for him flooded your mind, the pressure growing with the swaying of hips, friction provided by the layers separating the most intimate spots. Desperate for more, his neck seemed to call to your mouth only for fear of shattering the beautiful moment unfolding before you, beneath you, you slid one hand from behind his neck to pull down the collar concealing his throat.
A groan came from his lips as you shifted to kiss his neck, his own lips parting from your throat. Salty, hot, your flattened tongue traced a line up the side of his neck nearly to his chin. Ford shivered from your tongue, gasping, obviously overheated but aching, not relenting in his slow grind up to you.
“You know Ford,” you hummed next to his ear, “I wonder where else I could feel your pulse with my tongue, and how it'll taste”
“Fuck” was all he could manage in return, desperately trying to press his chest closer to yours,find any more friction, little moans slipping out as your lips met his pulse point again. He felt so damn good, and you wanted him, needed him, hell everyone to know he was yours. Lavishing attention on his semi exposed neck, you ensured there was enough suction to mark his pretty neck, which only served to pull more gasps from him. The friction that drove you so far felt all encompassing now, radiating heat engulfing you, release feeling so very close, yet just out of reach.
Desperate for more, you let your hands wander down Ford's sweatered chest, fingers dancing along the outline of his torso to the edge of his sweater. Fords hands explored lower too, along your spine, drifting apart, using your hips to increase that building, grinding, desperate pressure between you. Closer, closer, but painfully apart. Lifting the hem of the sweater, Ford seemed eager to strip the layer, but paused.
“It's been…” he started, eyes avoiding yours, searching for the words. The air felt heavier now, the anticipation of his words and what may or may not come with them thickening the tension, the showing pace of grinding on each other punctuating the mood. “It's been a long time since I've done anything like this, and given the circumstances, I'm concerned that I won't be able to stop myself if we continue to… escalate. It would be so easy to blame whatever the hell is in the air, but it would be a lie to say that I haven't fantasised about this, you, and I need you to know what I said earlier is true.”
Ford let his eyes stop wandering, the crack in the lense of his glasses going out of focus as he met your gaze. Chests pressed so close, rising in time, the feeling of worn fabric between thumb and forefinger, the heat of the air, time pausing. There would be no turning back. No reverting.
“I want you Ford, I've wanted you for a long time,” you managed, aware of how dry your mouth was feeling, especially compared to everywhere else. Ford's hips began to move again, achingly slow. “You aren't the only one who has been fantasizing. I want this, I want you.”
Uncertainty pressed into the lines of his face, but his body pulled back from yours. Anxiety crept up, his callused hands moving yours from the hem of his sweater. Instead of pushing you away, the red garment was pulled up and away, revealing a black cotton undershirt, the broad expanse of his chest, the fresh bloom of love bites you had peppered along his throat, and under them what looked like a star tattoo, and a deep creeping blush.
“Last chance to turn down the old man.” Ford almost declared, self consciousness as easy to read as his desperation.
“Are you going to make me beg?” Came your response, punctuated by the removal of your own sweater. Each of you only wearing a thin layer on your upper halves. His hands returned to your hips, rocking your hips together, seeking back the pressure that self doubt had had him relent on. Your hands crept up from his slightly cushioned abs, to his surprising pecs. When your thumb brushed his nipple, a deep groan slipped from Fords throat. Tentatively, you let your thumb fall back over the sensitive peak. Another moan, and a jolt from his hips came as a response.
“So sensitive for me” you mumbled through a hazy lust filled mind.
Uneven breathing, desperate grinding, far away sounds of nature, the pure primal feeling was so easy to follow, yet so difficult to pursue. Everything was too much and nothing is enough. Greed for flesh slowly worsened, sweat soaking through the thin undershirt that kept Ford hidden. Grabbing at him, the shirt, at any type of logic not driven by need felt so futile, but needed. How intoxicating to feel him beneath you, the drunk blush of his face, whines that proved he needed this as much as you.
“Ford,” you murmured “touch me, taste me, something, please.”
The plea fell to him like a command. Hips held firm, Ford laid back, pulling you down atop him. Chest to chest, hungry mouths united again. You felt his heart thrum up against your own chest, sensitive nipples finding sweet friction as your torsos adjusted. One hand guiding your hips, the other wandered down to knead your ass as your own hands wandered over his body, part for stability of your spinning mind, part to explore the physique beneath you. For a man of his age, you hadn't expected such strength, the sweater and the layer of fat that disguised the muscle beneath held no sway now. Given how he had adjusted you without missing a beat, you wondered what else he would be capable of.
He answered with action, sliding down beneath you to kiss your chest through your shirt, gliding his leg up so that no pressure was lost for your grinding pleasure. Urgently you moved to get rid of the barrier, tossing aside the damp article as Ford licked up your sternum before pressing one nipple into his mouth. A gasp escaped your lips, Ford humming unintelligible words against your flushed chest. Your fingers found his hair, the other hand shakily trying to keep you up, the world behind your lidded eyes moving into oblivion. He switched to the yet untested nipple, the air feeling cold against the abandoned one. Every breath sent waves against your skin. Then, he relented.
“I need more” he muttered.
With hardly time to register the words, Ford lifted you, leveraging his leg between yours, giving himself access to rid you of your bottoms. Hazy mind blurring actions, his leg left yours as he maneuvered you, kicking legs from the pants that had kept him away, wasting no time tugging your underwear down with it. But you weren't fully free. The bottoms had stopped around your calves, but it seemed Ford was too focused to care.
Legs partially bound, still straddling your partner, the look of calculation and frustration grew more evident on his face.
Before you could ask, a grumble of “Hold on” came from Ford, his arms crossing as he grabbed opposing hips, flipping you up and around. A tug at the confining clothing led not to your release but further issue moving. Glancing back over your shoulder revealed Fords absolutely hypnotized face looking between your spread legs, the offending articles behind his head supporting it, and a deep desire to push back onto him. The hot gasps of air hitting your thighs from the desperate scientist beneath you made no mystery of just how excited your body had become. His eyes met yours, so dark, before he himself pressed his lips to your legs. Soft flesh, flat tongue, so near bliss. Strained noises came forth, a harmony of want.
Fords hips shifted, and opportunity, as well as a sizable bulge, presented themselves. Uneasy hands pressed before you, shaking, looking for stability as his mouth crept further up towards paradise, found purchase by moving towards the button and zipper that kept him from you. His stalking mouth continued to tease, inching ever so slowly, and the damned button seemed to sway beneath the tips of your fingers, evading being undone, but not for long.
Stubble and a deep inhale on sweat drenched unmentionable snapped the haze long enough to nearly tear off the button, the zipper pushed apart. A dark treasure trail glistening with silver supplied ample reason to salivate, the outline that pressed up to a soaking spot more so. Ford paused his kissing as he felt your breath through the fabric. Gasping followed when your lips pressed to his member, still separated by the soiled cotton, heavy with his musk.
“Please,” he begged, adjusting his hips slightly.
“Please, what?”
“Please suck my cock.”
The desire to tease was toppled by the need in his voice, and a primal kind of hunger. Making quick work of the waistband, he was revealed, springing from his confines to the forest air. Sizable, curved, absolutely deliciously presented. You let yourself indulge, dragging your tongue from base to tip before wrapping your lips around the head. Leaning forward to take him into your mouth brought up your calves, the pants still wrapped around your legs bringing his head up with them, and the arch of your back presenting Ford with his own opportunity. As you moved to press more of him into your mouth, he pressed his face forward to, savoring the taste as he did. The rumble of satisfaction from him egged you on, humming slightly, hips pressing back as his pressed up, both so desperate to taste and be tasted.
Softness left quickly as desperation shoved its way through. Hard breaths, suction, the desire to fully devour. His tongue moved with yours, desperate to give the pleasure received right back. A dance of devotion between desperate moans, tasting salvation, salivating for more. Fords movements changed as your peak approached, a terrible pressure building, he let himself press deeper with his tongue. Unintelligible rumbles came as you did, still sucking, bobbing, trying to take in more and more of the man beneath you, but it didn't feel like enough.
Desperate hungers began to feed frustration, mind swimming from the orgasm that fed the lust more than satiate it. The need for breath lead you to pull off of his cock, kissing the sides in attempt to get more oxygen than could be found in desperate inhales between movements. It seemed that Ford was not so swayed by trivial matters like breath, his tongue lapping up all you could give, then his bottom lip helping your clit find suction. Overwhelming overstimulation pulled a second orgasm much too quickly, the fabric cradling his head made it so attempts to escape his affections were futile, each move to get away was met with his drenched face following, inescapable pressure.
Weakened legs drooping, Fords head was no longer forcibly pressed to you, but it didn't change anything. Eager for more, his hands guided your ass as he sat fully up, supporting your useless lower half. The inverted weight pressed your face down to the base of his shaft, had you not come up for air the length would be suffocating, though your rattled mind could just hardly grasp what would be so bad about that. All the blood rushing back to your head felt divine in the afterglow, the continued stimulation pressing pleasure up your spine. Refusing to neglect the man who drove you past your usual limits, your mouth found Fords balls, gently kissing them as he continued to feast on your flesh, a mess of ragged breath spoiling the pure forest air.
Blood pooling in your head began a different type of ache, and you began to worm your legs away from the persistent scientists’ grip.
“Ford, honey, my head is going to explode,” you managed, continuing to wiggle.
“Explode…” came his muffled reply, lost in the pleasure of eating you out.
“Ford,” you tried again, breath harder to catch, “I need my legs back”
“Such wonderful legs,” he mumbled, pausing his meal to move his hands down your thigh in admiration, drenched lips pressing kisses with them. A pause. Hands frantically moved, guiding your lower half down, Fords legs moved, your hands and knees firmly on the cushy moss of the forest floor. “I don't, I mean I do, I don't mean..” Ford stumbled around the proper words, “I'm sorry, I could have hurt you!”
“It's alright, I'm fine” you reassured, “better than fine.”
Twisting to view the man behind you was well worth it. He sat back on his knees, the faint glimmering in the air casting an ethereal light around him. His face was drenched, his tongue slowly, hypnotically, drug across his top lip as he looked down at you. His dark stubble cast deeper shadows on the contours of his face. Chest raising and falling, broad, powerful, stirred deeper desire. A salt and pepper God made solid.
A breeze drove home how distracted you were from your own exposure. Instead of embarrassment, it fanned the flames into an inferno. You wanted, needed, craved him. How had you gone so long without him? It felt like an eternity from the time his mouth left you, had your whole life felt this empty and you just hadn't realized it?
Your gaze followed the trail of silver down his chest, the pudge on his abdomen revealing his desperate breaths with every movement, a wonderful treasure trail with sparkling spots of saliva you'd make him with. Glistening and proud stood his cock, pulse visible through the colour on its head, bead of precum topping it, desperation too evident to ignore. Slow movements of his arm, Ford let his hand find his slick member, palming it, aching for friction.
“You ever think of me when you did that alone” you mused, letting your own hand snake between your legs, ass still in the air.
“Yes,” he gasped, watching you, watching him, both depraved and deprived. “So many nights you monopolized my mind, I'd dream about you, lust after you, wish for you, for this.”
You let your hand wander further, index and middle pressing against your lower lips, then spreading them. A rumbling sound came from Ford as you did. He bit his lip, slowly pleasuring himself to the sight of you, the taste of you still lingering on his lips.
“Is it my turn to beg?” He asked, beads of sweat forming on his brow.
You watched as the sweat made a line down by his eye, rolling down his nose, dripping off the tip.
“Please, please let me fuck you,” he begged, adjusting his grip slightly, inching closer to you on his knees, fixated on closing the distance between the two of you. “I'll be good, I'll give you what you need,” he promised, angling his cock between your spread lips. His free hand rested on the curve of your hip. “Please.” It left his lips like a prayer.
Gently, you pressed your hips back, the tip of him pressing between your fingers, and ever so slightly in. The world shifted as he connected, the feeling of being so close, pressure of his fingers digging into your hip as to not lose his grip on reality, what was once a partnership of scholars melting to an animal need to pull pleasure from each other's bodies.
Hands firm on your hips, Ford helped you balance, adjusting to his girth. The intrusion, though welcome, made your head spin. Deep breaths, you reminded yourself, skin burning at each point of contact. Gentle rocking, slow withdrawal nearly to exit, then a reversal to press in a little further than before. Deliciously drawn out in order to preserve the pleasure over pain. As the latter dissipated, the former became addictive. Slow calculated moves to adjust shifted to more desperate rolling of hips. The grip Ford kept adjusted to get better leverage, less so supporting, morphing to moving you to rock back onto him as his search for more increased.
“You're doing so well, taking me,” Ford emphasized with a squeeze, his thumbs digging in slightly. “You've almost got all of me.”
Almost was a dangerous word when you were already feeling so full. Greed pushed its way into the haze of lust, demanding the whole experience, and so you let yourself press harder against his grip to meet him at each thrust, taking him more deeply than felt real. The curve of his cock felt even better than it had looked, the sensations it brought combined with Fords earlier tongue work had each move creating a salacious sound. Sounds of wet flesh contrasted by the distant songbirds cracked what once was, for now there was only desperate gyrating. Animal instinct. Ford driving his cock into you from behind, your own movements pulling him as deep as he would go. Breathing unsteady, your arms gave out, dropping you to your elbows, head hanging you could see his thick legs between your own in the upside down world. One of his hands snaked around your middle, pressing up on your pelvis, adding extra stability, helping him hit a deep spot that lit everything up anew.
“Ford, I'm going to lose it again if you keep that up,” came as your body threatened to do the same.
“That's the point, do it. Going to make you all mine,” he replied.
“All yours, fuck, make me yours” you managed, teetering on the edge.
Ford kept his pace while his hands grabbed at you, taking advantage of the angle you presented with your ass so high and face down. Sensations swirling any sanity, you bit down on your forearm just to try to keep connected to a body that felt like it could float out at any minute.
This was Interrupted by an unexpected yank, the arm that had been holding your abdomen steady pulling you upright. His hairy chest pressed to your back, keeping his rhythm, kissing your neck.
“Don't hide any of your moans, I want every bit of you sweetheart.” As to add punctuation, he licked from your shoulder to your ear before nibbling at it. Everything was too much, but he kept you steady, fucking you through the orgasm that threatened to fold you. “So good, cuming for me, I'll give you what you need.”
Desperate, you turned your head to meet his lips, tongue finding his, his hips continued to rock you, tasting yourself on his lips. Moans, deep ragged breaths hands reaching back to him as to grab a new reality steeped in pleasure, his doing much the same, his hips became less coordinated. Skin sticking, pressed so unbelievably close, you could feel his every tremor. His tensing. Quaking. Shivering. Cries of pleasure ripped through you both as he came, teeth gnashing in the kiss. Cold frame of his glasses pressing to your cheek, waves of pleasure, feeling so terribly full. Sweat, saliva, and spend.
Sun beams shining through the canopy fell onto the connected bodies below. Eyes fluttering open, you saw the flushed face of your research partner glistening before you. His hands kept you caged up against his body, refusing to let you go even as a glimmer of concern entered his hazy gaze. Craning your neck wasn't the most comfortable, but something about the way he looked at you made it hard to turn away.
Maybe he saw something in the way that you looked at him, but his apprehension was replaced with determination.
“Ford,” You asked, concerned about the shift “are you alright?” He broke eye contact first, adding to your confusion.
“Fine, just, we should lay down, try not to use too much more energy.” Tone even, too even.
You moved to disconnect to lay down, his hand stopped you, keeping himself from slipping out. Instead, he guided the two of you down onto the discarded clothing on your sides. Spooning with him had been a long time craving, the reality of which did not disappoint. Feeling content, full, and secure, aside from the shift in his demeanor.
“Something on your mind?” You asked, breathing returning to normal.
“Just how big of a step this is,” he sighed “of all the ways I'd imagined it, it wasn't like this, well for the most part. Romance is not my forte, but I had hoped to impress you, woo you, something… something you would like.”
Earnestness in his voice palpable, he let his fingers trace circles on your side. Snuggling back to him, you let yourself indulge in the feeling of contentment.
“I like you, I'm glad that something finally did happen, I'm certainly not disappointed in any of it,” you mused, feeling his tension dissipate around you. "Let's just enjoy now."
Ford hummed in acknowledgment, the rumble of his chest vibrating against you.