Immobile

by Juli

August 2006


Carson knew Ronon was strong, but he’d never truly appreciated just how strong until the man’s arms were wrapped around him, holding him in place.

“Bloody hell, ye daft ape,” Carson panted. “Let me move.”

Ronon, damn his black soul, leaned forward a little and licked a long, lazy trail down Carson’s neck. “Sheppard said you’re not to move, so you’re not moving.”

“Ye gods and little lasses,” Carson moaned as he let his head fall against Ronon’s shoulder. “The two of you are out t’kill me.”

His complaint got him a long, nasty chuckle from Ronon, but not a shift of the big man’s grip. A change in the moist pressure down below reminded Carson of exactly why he was so desperate to move and he looked down. John Sheppard’s mouth was too full to smile, but the devil was in those twinkling eyes.

Carson groaned again. Between the two of them, his lovers really were going to kill him.

John made a happy-sounding hum and Carson moaned. As deep as he was in the other man’s throat, that hum went straight up his cock and took residence in his balls. He squirmed, realizing as he did that he could feel Ronon’s massive erection sliding between his bare cheeks. Wet heat in front and diamond-hard heat from behind; they might just kill him, but Carson Beckett would die a happy man.

Another hum and Carson closed his eyes, concentrating every bit of will he possessed on moving his hips just a little, trying desperately to get more of the sensation. He succeeded a fraction of an inch, but the tiny victory had an unexpected result. John slid his mouth off Carson’s cock, using a lot of suction and a little bit of teeth every part of the way. Carson cried out as he lost the furnace of John’s mouth and the cooler air of the room hit his painfully erect penis.

“What do you think, Ronon?” John drawled. “Think our boy’s ready to finish?”

“I don’t know,” the big man replied, his voice a rumble against Carson’s sweaty back. “He hasn’t begged yet.”

John’s expression turned contemplative. “You’re right and he begs so nicely too.” He snapped his fingers. “I tell you what. I’ll hold his legs open; you see what you can do about that.”

Carson didn’t like the sound of that, but wasn’t in a position to protest as John’s calloused hands spread his knees wide. Ronon wrapped one arm around Carson’s waist, a living band that was as strong as steel and just about as unbending. The other hand slipped between Carson’s legs and, eschewing the doctor’s weeping erection, went straight for his balls.

“Bloody hell!” Carson cried out, straining to lift his hips.

Sheppard chuckled and held him down. “Now, now, Doc. None of that.”

Ronon’s fingers were very dexterous, for all that they were big. He tickled and palmed Carson’s testicles, stopping when he felt them pull up close to Carson’s body. The helpless doctor’s toes curled as orgasm was denied him again and again.

“Please,” he whimpered.

“What was that?” John made a show of cocking his head to the side in an exaggerated listening pose. “I didn’t quite catch what you said.”

“Please,” Carson panted. “Please let me come. I need. . . I need to so very badly.”

“See, I told you he begged nicely,” John said smugly to Ronon. “What’s say we give the man what he asked for?”

Carson felt Ronon nod and whimpered in relief. To his surprise, however, the big man didn’t stop playing with his balls. They were kept in a firm grip while John’s head descended. Instead of enveloping Carson’s entire cock, John’s tongue and lips only played with the sensitive tip. Carson’s toes curled so tightly that he doubted they’d ever be straight again.

“Please,” Carson moaned, almost insane with the intense desire to come. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

They took pity on them. John used his hand to add a twisting motion, never removing his lips from the head of Carson’s cock. It was almost enough, but Carson didn’t go over the edge until he felt Ronon’s mouth fasten onto his neck, biting down with just exactly the right amount of pressure.

“Yes!” Carson cried out as orgasm took him. “Yes, loves, yes.”

Finally, Carson was allowed to move. Ronon’s arms loosened and Carson’s hips jerked as orgasm took his body. Luckily, John kept his hands on Carson’s knees, holding him down just enough to keep from being choked.

It felt as though spasms of pleasure rocked his body for hours as he spilled his release into Sheppard’s mouth. Through it all, Ronon’s arms held him, becoming supportive instead of restraining. Finally, though, he was depleted and with a gasp, Carson collapsed limply against Ronon’s body.

Ronon’s mouth returned to Carson’s neck, lapping delicately as the sweat pooled there. “Nice. I counted nine ‘pleases’ and one ‘bloody hell.’”

John stopped licking his way up Carson’s stomach long enough to frown. “What? No ‘bugger’?”

“Nope, not one,” Ronon answered.

“Damn,” John’s face fell. “That’s my favorite.”

“Next time, when it’s my turn,” Ronon promised. He shifted Carson’s weight so that he could get out of the chair. “He likes it when I wrap my hair around him.”

“That’s no fair,” John protested as he wrapped one arm around Carson’s weight, helping the limp man walk towards the bathing area. “I don’t have that much hair.”

“You’re both daft,” Carson recovered his breath long enough to complain. “This competition of yours is going to be the death of me yet.”

The other two men grinned, undaunted and thoroughly unapologetic. Carson rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but grin back. He received the benefit, after all, of this little who-can-drive-Carson-craziest-with-pleasure contest of theirs.

It just might kill him, but damn, what a way to go.

~the end~

 

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