The next morning, Mr Strange gave Mr Norrell a bath and a massage until he was relaxed, squirming a little with pleasure, and ready to practice.
"I want to come again, does that mean I'm too tense?" said Mr Norrell.
"Not necessarily. I've taken the edge off you last night, and you've had a good night's sleep, a bath and a massage. I don't think either of us is eager enough to rush it too fast."
"Mm," said Mr Norrell happily, as he appreciated being fingered from behind when he wasn't quite ready to come.
Mr Strange withdrew his fingers
"All right. This is me, now, properly greased. If you're not quite up for a fuck I can rub myself against your bum and do it that way. As I told you, there are always options."
But this time, Mr Norrell remembered his arse being teased, and how good it had felt. He noticed how smooth and delicious the tip of a firm prick felt compared to the slightly bony nature of fingers. He knew that either or both of them would be able to stop if they needed to stop.
He said, "More!"
So Jonathan Strange gave him more. Inch by tortuous inch--and every fraction of an inch so deeply appreciated, because it felt good and because he knew that if it ever hurt, they could stop and go back to it later. After a bit, Jonathan said, "I'm half-way in you. You want to settle like that for a while?" and he realised that Jonathan would do that for him, if he wished; let him enjoy himself like this, wait as long as it took.
He said, "Full stretch, please. If...if you can do it without hurting me."
Jonathan Strange knew, probably from the betraying stammer, that he wasn't quite sure of his body's limits.
"Well, first," said Mr Strange. "I'm going to play with you for a little while, see if your body votes for letting me in." Despite his words, he was far short of fondling Mr Norrell's prick, settling for teasing his nipples, thighs and balls.
Apparently all of those voted an unambiguous 'yes!' because he soon felt Mr Strange more deeply within him, and more to the point felt his body opening to let him in. "Oh! Yes, please," he said.
The second half of Mr Strange's member went in rather easier.
"All right, you've got me!" panted Jonathan Strange, although the warm, slightly sweaty feeling of his body pressed tight against Mr Norrell did rather make that clear.
"Mm...doesn't hurt at all, lovely!" He squirmed.
"I hope there's enough of me, after all that," said Mr Strange.
"Very much so," said Mr Norrell, pausing to pant. "Could you do it properly now?"
The slow back-and-forth thrusting felt even better than being fingered, both physically and because he knew it was for both of them, not one at a time. "We were both right," he suggested, very slightly smugly. "It does feel good."
After a little while, he demanded it harder, and Jonathan Strange did it harder.
He reached for his prick, and whined when Jonathan Strange said, "Not now, Gilbert."
"I'm not doing any thing," he lied.
"Stop it."
Mr Norrell sighed, and removed his hand.
"That's better."
Actually, being told (ordered!) not to bring himself off was oddly exciting.
"Do you know what I was thinking last night?"
"Mm?" said Mr Norrell, not really thinking at all, with the rapid migration of relevant parts of his blood-supply southwards.
"Just that you're so very greedy," murmured Mr Strange in his ear, nibbling and licking it. "So very greedy it'll feel marvellous for both of us when you finally come yourself silly on my cock." And suddenly, there was a tight fist squeezing him, and he was squeezing that huge, gorgeous thing inside him, and he spent himself in a roaring uncivilised fury until he was quite drained.
Five minutes of rather muddled shared ecstasy later, Jonathan Strange said, "Can I have my cock back, please? I'm going to have to clean up, knowing you, and it's not a detachable appendage."
Mr Norrell muttered something about wanting a spell for that.
Mr Strange said, "No, Gilbert, I'm the one who comes up with frankly ridiculous and untested spells. You're the other one."
"I want to sleep."
Mr Norrell had a very curious dream involving making toast and honey while Jonathan was away on a journey. As he stood at the fire, he put his hand in his pocket and discovered Jonathan had left him with a...detachable appendage to keep him company, and it kept falling out of his pocket because the pockets were too small.
When he woke up he had been irritably searching his wardrobe for a garment with a large enough pocket.
They both, unusually, drank toasts over their next meal. After the not-entirely-serious toasts to Mr Strange's masculine appendage, "Long may it rise!" and Mr Norrell's extreme lubricity, "And may your appetite never run dry, sir!" there was a pause for more serious toasts.
"To Ormskirk," said Mr Norrell, "for getting us together."
"And to the Raven King himself for making it clear we are in the Right Place," said Jonathan Strange.
Fill: A Spell for Changing Places, thus Discoueryng the Right Place 9/9
The next morning, Mr Strange gave Mr Norrell a bath and a massage until he was relaxed, squirming a little with pleasure, and ready to practice.
"I want to come again, does that mean I'm too tense?" said Mr Norrell.
"Not necessarily. I've taken the edge off you last night, and you've had a good night's sleep, a bath and a massage. I don't think either of us is eager enough to rush it too fast."
"Mm," said Mr Norrell happily, as he appreciated being fingered from behind when he wasn't quite ready to come.
Mr Strange withdrew his fingers
"All right. This is me, now, properly greased. If you're not quite up for a fuck I can rub myself against your bum and do it that way. As I told you, there are always options."
But this time, Mr Norrell remembered his arse being teased, and how good it had felt. He noticed how smooth and delicious the tip of a firm prick felt compared to the slightly bony nature of fingers. He knew that either or both of them would be able to stop if they needed to stop.
He said, "More!"
So Jonathan Strange gave him more. Inch by tortuous inch--and every fraction of an inch so deeply appreciated, because it felt good and because he knew that if it ever hurt, they could stop and go back to it later. After a bit, Jonathan said, "I'm half-way in you. You want to settle like that for a while?" and he realised that Jonathan would do that for him, if he wished; let him enjoy himself like this, wait as long as it took.
He said, "Full stretch, please. If...if you can do it without hurting me."
Jonathan Strange knew, probably from the betraying stammer, that he wasn't quite sure of his body's limits.
"Well, first," said Mr Strange. "I'm going to play with you for a little while, see if your body votes for letting me in." Despite his words, he was far short of fondling Mr Norrell's prick, settling for teasing his nipples, thighs and balls.
Apparently all of those voted an unambiguous 'yes!' because he soon felt Mr Strange more deeply within him, and more to the point felt his body opening to let him in. "Oh! Yes, please," he said.
The second half of Mr Strange's member went in rather easier.
"All right, you've got me!" panted Jonathan Strange, although the warm, slightly sweaty feeling of his body pressed tight against Mr Norrell did rather make that clear.
"Mm...doesn't hurt at all, lovely!" He squirmed.
"I hope there's enough of me, after all that," said Mr Strange.
"Very much so," said Mr Norrell, pausing to pant. "Could you do it properly now?"
The slow back-and-forth thrusting felt even better than being fingered, both physically and because he knew it was for both of them, not one at a time. "We were both right," he suggested, very slightly smugly. "It does feel good."
After a little while, he demanded it harder, and Jonathan Strange did it harder.
He reached for his prick, and whined when Jonathan Strange said, "Not now, Gilbert."
"I'm not doing any thing," he lied.
"Stop it."
Mr Norrell sighed, and removed his hand.
"That's better."
Actually, being told (ordered!) not to bring himself off was oddly exciting.
"Do you know what I was thinking last night?"
"Mm?" said Mr Norrell, not really thinking at all, with the rapid migration of relevant parts of his blood-supply southwards.
"Just that you're so very greedy," murmured Mr Strange in his ear, nibbling and licking it. "So very greedy it'll feel marvellous for both of us when you finally come yourself silly on my cock." And suddenly, there was a tight fist squeezing him, and he was squeezing that huge, gorgeous thing inside him, and he spent himself in a roaring uncivilised fury until he was quite drained.
Five minutes of rather muddled shared ecstasy later, Jonathan Strange said, "Can I have my cock back, please? I'm going to have to clean up, knowing you, and it's not a detachable appendage."
Mr Norrell muttered something about wanting a spell for that.
Mr Strange said, "No, Gilbert, I'm the one who comes up with frankly ridiculous and untested spells. You're the other one."
"I want to sleep."
Mr Norrell had a very curious dream involving making toast and honey while Jonathan was away on a journey. As he stood at the fire, he put his hand in his pocket and discovered Jonathan had left him with a...detachable appendage to keep him company, and it kept falling out of his pocket because the pockets were too small.
When he woke up he had been irritably searching his wardrobe for a garment with a large enough pocket.
They both, unusually, drank toasts over their next meal. After the not-entirely-serious toasts to Mr Strange's masculine appendage, "Long may it rise!" and Mr Norrell's extreme lubricity, "And may your appetite never run dry, sir!" there was a pause for more serious toasts.
"To Ormskirk," said Mr Norrell, "for getting us together."
"And to the Raven King himself for making it clear we are in the Right Place," said Jonathan Strange.