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Feb. 6th, 2009

The Pundits Kink Meme v. 1.0
(Including The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, MSNBC, CNN or whatever other pundits you would like with whomever you'd like to request them with)

For those of you who haven't ever seen a kink meme (you are in for a treat), the instructions:

1- Choose a pairing.
2- Choose a kink. If you need some sort of reference, there's this list of kinks.
3- Your comment should be anonymous! All part of the fun.
4- For every request you make, please try to fill at least one! This doesn't work quite as well if all we have are requests

Let's get this party started!

eta: Just a reminder that while this is the kink meme for pundits (and whomever you feel like pairing them with), there is another kink meme for Rahmdom/Politifandom if all you want are the politicians.

eta 2: We'll see how this goes, but I'm going to try to update at least once a day with links to the written prompts on each page. I'm just copy-pasting the original prompt and taking out any extra line-breaks, because actually stopping to read would make this task pretty well impossible. I considered doing this with unfilled as yet prompts, too, but you're all so amazingly prolific that the first is going to be trouble enough.

Also, I probably should have said this at the very first, but--I know this is a kink meme and totally anonymous, but let's try and remain respectful of each other. This is one of my favorite fandoms ever filled with fantastic people, so I'm sure you can all police yourselves pretty well.

[page one]
1) Anderson/Keith, Frottage, wherein it starts seemingly innocently (falling asleep somewhere together or the like) and ends with good old-fashioned dry-humping.
Keith/Rachel, ties
Jon/Stephen, friends masturbating together.
Stephen/Jon, Frantic frottage and/or coming in pants.
George Clooney/Jon, Orgasm denial and control. Maybe bondage, too, if you like.
Brian/Jon/Stephen. Erotic spanking. (Preferably in the vein of 'Brian spanks Stephen while Jon watches', but I am flexible!)
Anderson/Rachel, Bondage
John Oliver/Rob Riggle, public cross-dressing, coming out of the closet (not necessary)
Samantha Bee/Jason Jones, strap-on sex
jon/anderson, lewd scrabble.
Jon/Denis Leary, Stephen watches
Jon/character!Stephen, shower sex
Rachel/Ana, bodyswap
Keith/Anderson, crossdressing

[page two]
Jon/John, D/s with Jon as a possesive top, marking/biting most welcome!
Jon/Stephen. Before being hired to work for "The Daily Show," Stephen was a male prostitute.
Keith/Rachel, androgyny
Keith/Anderson, Public Sex in a gay bar/club.
Stephen Colbert/Kanye West: roleplay, use of ties as a means of tying, or blindfolds (or feel free to mix and match!).
Jon/voyeur!Stephen; Stephen watches Jon masturbate.
How about either body swap with Rachel and Keith or Jon/Stephen accidental arousment and/ or body swap.
Stephen/Jon, rentboy/prostitute roleplay
Keith/Anderson, Dirty Talk (Keith doing the dirty talking)
Jon/Denis Leary. Lazy drunken making out and frottage.
Keith/Rachel, begging and/or delayed gratification
Jon/Stephen, asphyxiation
Sean Hannity/Alan Colmes. Alpha male misses his punching bag.
Dev Patel/Jon: Some teasing, Loss of control, maybe a massage that leads elsewhere...Submissive Jon though
George Clooney/Jon Stewart | 'Vampire Fantasy'

[page three]
Keith/Rachel, jealousy
Keith/Rachel, drunk
Anderson Cooper/Michael Ware, on assignment overseas, Anderson as bottom, angst a plus, can just be a buddy fuck
Rachel/Keith, pegging, very dominant (but fun) Rachel 'punishing' Keith for flirting with her.
Rachel/Anderson/Keith, sucking dyke cock - preferably with Keith/Anderson established relationship
Jon/Stephen, Bloodplay. Go crazy on this.
Anderson/Reza Aslan, any kink
Bill O'Reilly/anybody
keith/rachel, student/teacher, preferably involving the time he taught her to read a teleprompter

[page four]
Jon/Denis Leary: the younger years involving Jon in drag and carsex.
Jon/Stephen. Exhibitionism/voyeurism. Frottage on live television. Can be TDS or TCR, I'm not picky.
Rachel Maddow/Female!Keith, Rachel can turn straight girls gay, Rachel dominates.
Keith, masturbation and having a fantasy about Anderson
Teenage Keith and Rachel, best friends, Rachel knows she's gay but thinks maybe she could turn straight if she had sex with a guy she loves. Sex is starts out slow, gets frantic as she tries to convince herself she likes it. Crying ensues after. (two fic)
Steve/Stephen: oral fixation, Yes. No. YES. NOOOOOOOO. Stephen knows his constant pen/fingerporn drives Steve crazy but Steve just won't admit it.
Jason/Jon, dirty-talk. Jon all tied up--Jason doesn't even need to touch Jon to make him come. Bonus points if it's because of Jason's voice!
John King/John Oliver. John O is trapped inside the Magic Touchscreen. John K uses this to his sadistic advantage.
Teenage Rachel/Unknown Woman in gay club (after Rachel's disasterous attempt at turning straight with Teen!Keith), Underage Rachel, older woman. Seduction. "You're a sweet thing."
Stephen/Jon/"Stephen" Just... anything, really.
"Stephen" masturbating, begins by thinking about turning Rachel Maddow straight, ends by thinking of dominating the dirty liberal-jew that is Jon.

[page five]
Jason and Sam tag-team Jon (spanking, voyerism, penetration)
Stephen"/Jon. "Stephen" keeps Jon in the cage beneath his desk. Stockholme Syndrome, reward/punishment, hurt/comfort and name-calling
John Oliver, scarf bondage (http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=215337&title=Scumdog-Million-Hairs). Doesn't matter who with. Just. Scarves. Scarves and filthy bondage depravity plz.
Some good, old-fashioned Jon/"Stephen", with "Stephen" being the needy, needy sub that he so desperately is.
1) Rachel/girl!Keith - Keith has to go to a black tie event, even though he's not used to his new body. Rachel helps. Corset-play. 2) Rachel/girl!Keith with Anderson watching. Established Keith/Anderson before the...whatever made Keith a girl.
1 Anderson/Keith, historical, gilded age setting.2 aristocracy, power reversal, washing.
Stephen/Jon, fucked out, marking by biting or bruises. Top Stephen.
Rachel/girl!Keith, tribadism, exploration, laughter

[page six]
Keith/Rachel, exhibitionism, semi-public sex would be awesome!
Keith/Rachel/Ana, mindgames. Keith catches Rachel and Ana together.
so, who wants to write keith/pregnant!rachel? it need not be keith's kid. just, you know, keith wants kids, keith wants rachel, ergo pregnant!rachel would probably kill keith dead with want.
Rachel/Hannity, gender roles
Stephen/Paul/Amy, anal sex with strap-on, living together in a three-way relationship
John Oliver/Andy Zaltzman. They're together to record The Bugle. The action starts as they are recording and ends in mind-blowing sexy sex.
"Stephen" watches Jon Stewart interview Papa Bear and fantasizes about Papa Bear fucking Jon and making him beg for forgiveness (for of all things the panda-bear/teddy-bear argument)

[page seven]
Jon/Stephen. One starts giving the other a handjob/blowjob while the receiver is asleep. Lazy, sleepy sex ensues.
Pretty much anything with Aasif in. Where's the Aasif-love, fandom?
Ollie/Jon - Jon sees just what it takes to make John break concentration. Based on this segment: http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=165516&title=Britain%27s-Fallen-Soldiers
Keith, Rachel, and lesbian porn -- preferably from the "just two buddies watching porn" angle. Because I apparently really like to torture Keith.
Rachel/female!Keith - Rachel takes recently girlified Keith bra shopping. Public sex in the changing rooms.
Jon/Stephen; crying, Election night. After the Indecision special, they skip the parties and the drinks and go fuck in celebration. Kind of in the same vein as this (http://community.livejournal.com/rahmbamarama/285245.html) drabble. <3<3
Rachel Maddow, Michelle Obama, or Hillary Clinton/Sarah Palin, unexpected arousal

[page eight]
Keith/Rachel, A joyous, spontaneous Election Night kiss turns into unexpected Election Night sexin'. (two fic)
Keith/Rachel, piercings -- bonus points for vaguely dom!Keith
"Stephen"/Female!Jon. Stephen will only do Jon if he's a woman, and surely enough, one night, he dreams of Jon transforming into into a woman...completely at Stephen's mercy.
Rachel comes on the Daily Show, Stephen watches it. Fantasy of threesome ensues where he dominates them both. (Deep-throating, both Rachel and Jon tied to a large bed.)
Rachel/Girl!Keith, Rachel teaches Girl!Keith how to use a vibrator

[page nine]
sexless erotica pls? keith/rachel, forced to share a bed, heat (ex: dead of summer, broken air conditioner)
Jon/Anderson, Jon knows how to make Anderson laugh and make him feel safe (d/s is okay)

[page ten]
Rachel/Keith. Rachel never found Keith attractive until she discovered him wearing a dress. Crossdressing; Rachel topping and in charge.
Brian Williams/Jon Stewart, mad flirting (teasing and goading) during an interview goes too far, dry-humping on the desk. Made even better if no one else realizes what's going on, they make a joke of it, but both really get off on it.
Kristen Schaal, masturbation, against a washer on spin cycle, with or without a partner.
Rachel/Ana/Keith - Ana teaches Rachel how to suck dick
Jon/"Stephen" Heated but affectionate making out and frottage with "Stephen" being vulnerable.
Jon/Keith/Rachel. Preferably affectionate and domestic but dark and angst-y works too. Bonus points for Stephen and/or Anderson finding out and being all "...the HELL?"
"Stephen"/Jon. D/s, "Stephen" trying to be assertive, but quickly it all devolves into Jon taking charge.

[page eleven]
Keith/Rachel. Hooker roleplay.

[page twelve]
2) Correspondents have set up hidden camera in Jon's office, broadcast J/S sekrit lunchtiem sexxins over closed-circuit TV within building(?), in the form of news bulletin, with "experts" and whatever. Demetri gives sports report-type analysis, drawing lines and pictures over video.
John Oliver/Andy Zaltzman. Andy will only have sex with John if he dresses like Florence Nightingale. Lots of giggly-sex ensues!
Hannity/Colmes/O'Reilly. Theme: "Get your hands off my liberal!"

ETA: I don't know that I would say this is entirely closed--certainly, if you'd like to fill any unfilled prompts, I would say to go for it. But if you would like to request anything new, I think you'd have a much better chance of it in 's more recent Pundit Kink Meme 2.0.



( 2216 comments — Leave a comment )
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Feb. 6th, 2009 06:00 am (UTC)
Just making sure IP logging is off.
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:13 am (UTC)
John Oliver/Demetri Martin. Flirting and fluff please.
This pairing is not written enough! :]
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:15 am (UTC)
1) Anderson/Keith
2) Frottage, wherein it starts seemingly innocently (falling asleep somewhere together or the like) and ends with good old-fashioned dry-humping.

Feb. 9th, 2009 08:37 pm (UTC)
Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 1/2)
I hope it's all right, sweetheart. :)</i>


Drinking was the only way that Anderson could seem to get close to Keith. God forbid that it be through a shared passion for the news or something more practical.

It was easier to go to foreign countries, terrain, villages, than it was to sit down, talk face to face with Keith Olbermann, which meant that he was in trouble. Not being able to take this man head-on, in the least lewd meaning of those words, meant that he was foolishly afraid of what might be rejection, being shot down before he had a chance to get closer and gather more facts.

It wasn’t as though Keith made it exceptionally easy, owning an ego the size of Manhattan, though he had never done anything bad with it, and hurting Bill O’Reilly’s feelings didn’t count. Anderson was certain that O’Reilly was in possession of some, in the deepest recesses of his possibly-existent soul.

It wasn’t as though Anderson couldn’t stand toe-to-toe with Keith. He, too, was tall, muscled, and in much better health, when all things were accounted for. He, too, did his news research, was handsome. But for the life of him, Olbermann was a different breed: loud, obnoxious (though skillfully so, as far as rating were concerned,) he liked drawing attention to himself, whereas Anderson could do without.

A restaurant was the perfect place for he and Keith to begin to meet off-camera, nestled safely with a few colleagues and dim lighting. Within a few weeks of regular life interspersed with casual drinking, they had begun to swap drinks, a little vodka in the place of wine and vice versa. It had been a little silly but irresistibly entertaining.

The drink combinations were right off the menu, but one drink might be too strong for the dinner that it accompanied or ridiculously “girly” for the man that was intended to drink it.

It had been a bit embarrassing, the looks they had gotten, when they’d been found out.

The next trip to the restaurant, he and Keith hadn’t swapped beverages.

The next trip to the restaurant had actually been to Keith’s apartment, where Anderson had discovered that beer still tasted like horse piss. He had tried, so help him. Anderson had been polite, drank the entire thing as they sat there, watching sports on an overly indulgent high-definition television.

Only to have Keith laugh at him, nearly slap him on the back – his hand had been so close, the smile right on the older man’s face, like he’d forgotten, for a moment, who had been sitting next to him, watching week-end sports late at night.

Anderson hadn’t meant to stay so late but had wanted to anyway, did. He wanted to blame what happened next on the alcohol, but he wouldn’t. Excuses never helped anyone.

And he wasn’t sure how sitting on the couch, watching sports, had become such a tiring activity, with the exception that he’d been bored half-to-death, to sleep. Keith, had, in all probability, tired himself out from yelling at the screen in victory.

Anderson woke to an ache in his leg and his back, his sleep-hazed brain telling him that he was sprawled out on Keith Olbermann’s couch, partially under a man that was using him as a pillow.
Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 2/2) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 08:38 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 2/2) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 10:17 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 2/2) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 08:06 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 2/2) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 11th, 2009 02:29 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Anderson/Keith - (NC-17) - (Part 2/2) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 12th, 2009 06:10 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:19 am (UTC)
Keith/Rachel, ties
Feb. 7th, 2009 11:29 pm (UTC)
fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties
He's supposed to be knotting his tie, but instead he's sitting on the bed, watching her reflection in the mirror as she buttons her shirt. Her motions are careful, deliberate, almost a reverse striptease as Keith watches her skin disappear beneath the lightweight fabric.

As she slides the final button into place, she looks up, surprised when her eyes meet his in the mirror. She smiles after a moment and says to his reflection, "We're gonna be late."

There's no urgency, just a quiet statement of fact, and he returns the smile as he stands up, taking off his tie. He sees her frown slightly, and he touches her shoulder, encouraging her to turn around. "Let's try something," he says, draping the tie loosely around her neck, tucking it beneath her collar.

He tugs it a little, sliding it into place, and he thinks he sees her shiver as the silk slides over the thin material of her shirt. Her already dark eyes are dilated, and he looks away, focusing on the tie.

He can feel her watching him as he ties it, wide part wrapped slowly over narrow. The back of his hand brushes casually against her breasts, and as he guides the tie through the loop, he tickles her chin with its tip, kissing her nose when she laughs and shies away.

Resting his hands on Rachel's hips, he steps back slightly to take a look. Her eyes are unfocused and half-lidded, her lips wet and parted, and he has to force himself to look away. He thinks he might be jealous of his tie.

The knot is just slightly lopsided as it rests at the base of her throat, and he adjusts it, running his palm down its length when he's done. She's not wearing anything under her shirt, and he can see the way her nipples harden as his hand passes over her breasts, down her stomach.

"Keith," she says, confused and surprised and full of want.

They're going to be more than a little late.
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 07:06 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 08:36 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 07:56 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 10:57 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 08:28 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - eh_notsomuch - Feb. 13th, 2009 01:47 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 25th, 2009 05:35 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: fashionably late, keith/rachel, ties - (Anonymous) - Feb. 27th, 2009 02:14 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:19 am (UTC)
Jon/Stephen, friends masturbating together.
Feb. 6th, 2009 03:06 pm (UTC)
It was like their safety valve, or at least that was the way Jon preferred to see it. As for Stephen, he thought there was nothing safe in it whatsoever, but he kept those thoughts to himself. He knew that if he spoke, the whole thing could just break irreparably and suddenly he would be left staring at nothing but clear air on his hands.

He couldn’t live with that.

So whenever he got a late night visit from Jon, he remained silent, even as all kinds of groans and moans and “fuck, I can’t refrain anymore”’s spilled from his best friend’s mouth. When Stephen got up to lock the office’s door, Jon was already on the couch unbuckling his own trousers. Stephen sat in his chair and followed; after all they were both subjected to the same tension and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that they needed each other in slightly different ways.

To say they did it together would be an overstatement, even as they both stroke themselves in almost perfect unison; when Stephen’s eyes remained unswerving on Jon’s face, Jon kept his own tightly shut. Stephen never asked about that but he did get a reply one night nevertheless – “can’t even fucking look at you, know you’ll understand”.

He did, with only a remote part of him revolting against being so forgiving about something he would gladly never have heard.

Jon was the one to set the pace of their hands and it was invariably furious, bringing them both over the edge much too soon. Not that Stephen could imagine it any other way – even when he did it on his own, looking at a picture of Jon or just to the luscious mental images (not memories though – that would be too much like a torture), it never took him long. It was like there was a gaping hole inside his soul that never stopped aching but if he did it quick and dirty, sometimes it made him feel better about himself. He couldn’t even imagine what it would have felt like if Jon really touched him; probably the very gratitude would have him screaming and spurting within the first ten fucking seconds.

Only once in a blue moon some beautiful, intricate mechanism within Jon stopped working and Stephen watched him struggle and almost cry and never, never open his eyes, until Stephen’s own erection faded and he moved to the couch. He would begin to massage Jon’s nape with his fingertips, stroke his thigh or lick his ear if he was particularly brave, feeling as if he was falling apart on the inside, but it didn’t matter because then Jon was finally coming exquisitely, making Stephen cringe with guilt for still felling incomplete.

With a quiet “thanks, brother, really” Jon would leave, throwing a paper towel into the wastebasket on his way out.

Only on those nights, Stephen would moan Jon’s name in his sleep and there would be no ecstasy in his voice.
<3 - (Anonymous) - Feb. 6th, 2009 09:25 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: <3 - (Anonymous) - Feb. 6th, 2009 10:55 pm (UTC) - Expand
Just another commenter - (Anonymous) - Feb. 15th, 2009 03:18 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: <3 - (Anonymous) - Mar. 5th, 2009 11:04 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: <3 - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 08:23 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 6th, 2009 10:17 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 6th, 2009 10:56 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 01:43 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 06:33 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:26 am (UTC)

Frantic frottage and/or coming in pants.
Feb. 7th, 2009 10:08 pm (UTC)
When Stephen came home the day after White House Correspondents' Association dinner, he received a number of phone calls. A majority of those were from friends and the feedback basically ranged from “you fantastic motherfucker, you” to “fucking brass balls, man”. He didn’t care about praise all that much - it was after all such a volatile thing - but it was wonderful to hear they seemed to think he did all right.

There was, however, one call which although he expected to get, surprised him with its content or rather lack of thereof. As soon as Stephen picked up the phone, he was greeted by a muffled voice of one Jon Stewart, who ordered him to come to his office next day, 10 am. sharp, and promptly hung up, leaving Stephen befuddled and curious.

As it turned out in the morning, more surprises were in order. Having his body slammed against the door as soon as he entered Jon’s office, his wrists pinned of either side of his face, was definitely one of them. Then Jon leaned forward and actually growled into Stephen’s good ear, which was a sound Stephen had never expected to hear him make.

“You. Just… so… holy fuck. You.

“I take it you’ve seen the coverage,” Stephen’s voice came out as no more than a cat’s meowing. He didn’t plan it that way, but now there was no question he would play along – how could he not, when Jon looked at him as if he wanted to take him right there and fuck his brains out?

Something between a moan and a sigh escaped Jon’s lips. “Shut the fuck up, Stephen. Haven’t you spoken enough already, you fucking brilliant, ridiculously beautiful smartass?”

Before Stephen could think of some witty quip to reply with, Jon was already kissing him, ravishing and possessing. Stephen’s knees immediately buckled and he had to grab onto Jon’s arms for support. Jon broke the kiss, letting out a moan at the lost of contact, brusquely spun Stephen around and gave him a little shove. “Couch, now.”

Within a few seconds Stephen was lying on the slick leather with Jon on top of him – admittedly he couldn’t breathe very well but the last thing he wanted was to break the mood with some mundane remark. Because Jon, Jon was in a frenzy, absolutely gorgeous as he thrusted his hips back and forth against Stephen’s own erection, his hands roaming everywhere they could reach. Neither of them bothered to remove the layers of clothing and now they produced strangely exciting rustle as they rubbed against each other, adding to the sensation; but Stephen knew he still needed a bit more than that.

“Please talk to me, Jon. If I’m not allowed to…” he gasped as Jon’s hands slid under his body and grasped his buttocks, squeezing tightly, “then I wanna hear your voice. Please.”

“So fucking good,” Stephen was slightly taken aback at how maudlin Jon’s voice sounded, pretty much dripping with raw need. “Want you so much, wanted for so long. Can’t believe I have you, me of all…”


“Shut up. You don’t know how wonderful you are,” they both moaned as their hips met in a particularly sensuous movement, “but I do. You’re fucking insane, fucking impossible… God, I love you, you damn bastard.”

Before he even realized what was happening, Stephen’s whole body tensed and arched as he saw the stars and dug his fingernails into Jon’s nape.

“Shit, shit, shit… I love you too, oh Jon!”

Jon screamed as he followed with his own orgasm, Stephen’s name coupled with a few more I love you’s in his mouth. When rode it out, he slumped against Stephen so heavily he knocked the breath out of him. “Sorry,” he mumbled quietly as soon as he realized, making an attempt to shift away but to his surprise Stephen just held him firmly in his place. Jon relaxed again, nuzzling Stephen’s jaw, trying to concentrate on the delightful warmth instead of the uncomfortable stickiness in his pants.

“Can I speak now?” Stephen’s post-coital voice was somehow even more erotic than the actual sounds he produced during sex.

“Well, if you absolutely insist…”

“Is there any chance for us to have more sex even if WHCA never invites me to another dinner again?”
OMG So Hot! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 11:17 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 11:46 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 07:00 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Mar. 28th, 2009 06:09 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:28 am (UTC)
George Clooney/Jon

Orgasm denial and control. Maybe bondage, too, if you like.
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:44 am (UTC)
The Sound Of His Voice | George/Jon | orgasm control | NC-17
George’s voice is low, like melted chocolate dripping slowly over fresh strawberries, warm and rich and going straight to Jon’s cock.

“Don’t touch yourself,” he says, voice soft and delicious but firm, subtly conveying the order in a way that makes Jon shiver. He’s aching, but he nods, not even considering the notion that he might disobey. George smiles in response, and this simply turns him on further.

The man’s been putting on a show for him, making him watch but not letting him get off, and while it’s maddening Jon can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away; he watches the hand George has wrapped firmly around his cock, stroking expertly, the way his face contorts in pleasure. Coupled with the soft moans he’s letting out, it’s intoxicating, even with his own cock demanding attention.

He groans when George stops, locking eyes with him; suddenly, he moves, and he’s over Jon, pinning his arms up over his head, kissing him hard enough to make him dizzy. Jon’s fists clench and he arches upward toward George, begging urgently, unable to stop the words pouring out of his mouth. “Please, George, please, now, I need—” he pants, repeatedly, like a mantra, hoping George will listen.

George pulls away just slightly then, grabbing for the bottle on the nightstand, and Jon moans when he feels a finger inside him, then two, then three, stretching him, preparing him, pressing against that spot and making him cry out—“Jesus Christ!”

George’s chuckle is as infuriatingly arousing as his voice, Jon finds out, and he reaches to pull him down in order to kiss him again. George concedes, but presses Jon’s hands above his head for the second time. “These stay here,” he tells him, meeting his eyes. “Don’t make me tie you up.”

Jon doesn’t have much time to think about that threat—or is it a promise?—because the next thing he knows he feels George’s cock pressing inside him, swiftly, with one quick thrust. He moans and pushes back against it, body humming at the feel. “Fuck,” he gasps, and George thrusts—slowly, at first, and Jon growls, a sound deep in the back of his throat. “Faster,” he moans, voice laden with frustration.

“Remember, Jon,” George says gently, voice as calm and firm as it’s always been, but tinged with something else, something desperate. “I haven’t given you permission to come.”

Jon whimpers at that, shuddering in pleasure—half because of the words and half because George took the opportunity to speed up his thrusts, his movements becoming more and more powerful. He moves with George, determined to keep his hands above his head, and trying not to think about how George hasn’t touched his cock yet. He grips onto the headboard to steady himself, crying out loud when George’s angle shifts, each hard thrust hitting exactly right. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he yells, knowing he’s close, knowing he’s teetering dangerously on the edge and trying to balance, doing whatever he can to keep from falling over.

George gives him a warning look, one that clearly says, Not yet, and Jon curses again, letting his head fall back as he tries to think of unsexy images. It’s not easy when he feels like this, like he’s about to explode, and then—George’s breathing changes noticeably, there’s another hard thrust, then another; next, a low moan, George’s breath is hot and heavy on his ear, and Jon feels George finishing, practically experiences the orgasm tearing through him, and he shakes, voice breaking with unrelenting need, “George!”

And then there’s a hand on his cock, finally, and George is nodding, the gesture barely perceptible; it hardly takes four strokes—George knows just how to touch him—before Jon is groaning into George’s neck, fingernails digging into his palms as he comes hard, harder than he has in months, and he rides the wave of pleasure to the end, the slight stinging in his hands eventually dragging him back down to Earth.

“Jesus Christ,” Jon pants, trying to catch his breath, and George just chuckles again. The sound envelopes Jon, almost like a blanket, or a hug, and he grins back, stretching lazily. He’s damned if he doesn’t love that voice.
Re: The Sound Of His Voice | George/Jon | orgasm control | NC-17 - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 08:26 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: The Sound Of His Voice | George/Jon | orgasm control | NC-17 - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 12:54 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: The Sound Of His Voice | George/Jon | orgasm control | NC-17 - (Anonymous) - Feb. 7th, 2009 01:50 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:31 am (UTC)
Brian/Jon/Stephen. Erotic spanking. (Preferably in the vein of 'Brian spanks Stephen while Jon watches', but I am flexible!)
Feb. 8th, 2009 05:56 am (UTC)
I'd like to see this with Jon being spanked.
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 8th, 2009 06:50 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 07:57 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 08:02 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 08:40 am (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 12:18 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 12:35 pm (UTC) - Expand
(no subject) - (Anonymous) - Feb. 27th, 2009 02:16 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 06:34 am (UTC)
Feb. 7th, 2009 10:08 am (UTC)
ties that bind, anderson/rachel & implied anderson/keith, bondage [1/2]
He binds her to the bed with Keith's ties, wrapping the silk around her wrists, weaving the fabric through the slats of the headboard. The pink one, the one Anderson loops around her left wrist, is the tie she stole from Keith's office. When she tucked it into her pocket, it was still warm from his body, but now it slides coolly and smoothly around her arm. Her right wrist, that one Anderson binds with the tie he took from Keith's bedroom: navy and silver, a border of metallic threads separating the stripes. The threads burn and sting as they rub against the thin skin of her wrists, making her nerves tingle hotly.

"You ready?" Anderson whispers in her ear, teeth sinking into her lobe, tugging until she whines, a soft mew that catches in her throat. Letting go, he traces the curve of her ear with the flat of his tongue, leaving it damp with saliva and sensitive to the cold. She shivers, and he smiles. "Yeah, you're ready."

It's curiosity that makes him push her shirt up, bunching the material above her breasts. He knows what this does to her mind, being tied up like this, her arms lifted over her head, but he wants to see what it does to her body.

Straddling her hips, he stares at her until a blush slides up her neck and spreads across her cheeks. When Rachel turns her head, that's when Anderson really looks at her, sees her breasts pulled flat and tight, notices the contrast of her nipples against her pale skin. He can almost feel them beneath his tongue, hard and warm, and he wets his lips in anticipation, tells himself to wait a few moments longer.

He traces the faint curve of her left breast, drawing her attention as he slides two fingers along the underside. She watches him with nervous eyes and parted lips, feeling the light, uncertain touch of his fingertips that leaves her wanting.

She licks her lips, pulls the lower one between her teeth, hesitant. She breathes deep, her bunched-up shirt feeling tighter, more restrictive as her lungs expand, filling with air. She holds her breath like that as long as she can, and as she breathes slowly out, the gentleness of Anderson's touch making her dizzy. "Tease," she accuses, her voice loud in the silent room. She tugs on her restraints and listens to the headboard creak, feeling her bad shoulder protest with it.

Anderson smirks and ducks his head, his hot mouth, too dry from nerves, closing around her hardened nipple. She arches into it, straining against Keith's ties and making the headboard moan as she presses into Anderson's mouth. He sucks, tongues, worries her nipple between his teeth, but without the slow, wet slide of his saliva across her skin, it's all torturous, maddening friction and no relief, the warmth of his hand against her ribcage and the soreness of her shoulders her only distractions.

Feb. 6th, 2009 06:56 am (UTC)
John Oliver/Rob Riggle
public cross-dressing
coming out of the closet (not necessary)
Feb. 9th, 2009 08:15 pm (UTC)
Almost Normal
At a pinch, John could just about manage to walk out of his bedroom dolled up without quickly turning back to running back inside to pretend nothing had ever happened. When Rob asked him to accompany him to a cross-dressing party, it was like he was asking a sloth to peel itself off its tree, run the New York marathon and then take down a panther. Within two minutes.

"I'll be there," Rob reassured before he even waited for John's reply.

"Somehow that doesn't help," his boyfriend muttered, his teeth holding back most of the volume and diction as they clenched tightly together.

"I'll buy you something for it. Something... flattering," Rob tried.

He couldn't believe it when he said it, but sometimes even Rob was surprised by John's 'oh fuck it' attitude.

"Fine. Buy me that vintage Chanel dress we saw in SoHo the other week. And don't you dare leave my side for the entire evening."


The party didn't exactly have a cross-dressing theme as an all-out kink theme. So many had donned leather fetish gear the smell of hide hit people when they opened the front door like stale cigarettes. Which meant when John walked in, heels clicking, purse in hand, a shawl hiding his manly shoulders and pearls setting off his dress, he looked almost tame. Almost normal. Having nearly asked the cabbie to pull over about five times so he could vomit on the way over, it was exactly what he needed in order to feel comfortable.

Two hours later, John was sitting up on the counter in the spacious bathrooms as Rob ran his hand up and down his lover's stockinged legs. John couldn't stop a smirk as he applied a touch more lipstick if nothing but for effect.

"So, good idea?" Rob asked as John turned towards the mirror behind him.

"I honestly thought people would give just a little more of a shit."

"We run in weird circles." Rob made his fingers tip-toe up John's thigh. He checked the door and began to pull down his underwear with a confident smirk.

"You're not wanking me off in a five hundred dollar dress."

"Four hundred and fifty," Rob corrected. "I know how to haggle."

"'Got a better plan," John jumped off the counter and skittered over to the door to lock it. Turning back, he tapped his left heel for a moment in thought before walking back over and pushing Rob up onto the counter instead. There, he helped Rob unzip his fly and unbutton his jeans.

From a few flicks of a wrist, Rob had gone from half-mast to a painful erection, never good at holding off when it came to John's handiwork. Seeing as the party was in still full swing and they had only so long before people would be hammering to take a leak, John curled his fingers at the base and rested on hand on the counter as he bent down to reach his target. With a slow exhale of warm air on the very tip, Rob's hips buckled impatiently already and he kept his eyes firmly on the action in front of him as he watched his own dick disappear into John's mouth.

"Jeeesus." He managed to make John choke from laughing but neither seemed to care. In fact, as John hollowed his cheeks and used his tongue to massage the underside, Rob had given up caring about pretty much anything. John's eyes shut as he concentrated on slowly sucking up to the very tip, his hand still twisting and squeezing at a random frequency. Rob couldn't watch any more, as much as he loved watching those painted lips devoting themselves to him, and his head hit the glass behind him as he grunted for more.

Hands and lips worked in rhythm and Rob couldn't even give a warning as his whole body clenched up. He was roused minutes later by John still sucking and licking playfully and he leaned forward to pull him into a kiss.

They walked out of the party hand in hand, both forgetting they were supposed to be just friends, or any embarrassments they were supposed to have. It felt just right.
OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 09:27 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 10:16 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 01:10 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 09:42 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 09:43 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 11:10 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: Almost Normal - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 12:44 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Almost Normal - (Anonymous) - Feb. 12th, 2009 07:46 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Almost Normal - (Anonymous) - Feb. 27th, 2009 11:19 pm (UTC) - Expand
Re: Almost Normal - (Anonymous) - Feb. 28th, 2009 02:27 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Almost Normal - (Anonymous) - Mar. 5th, 2009 09:43 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:01 am (UTC)
Oliver/Riggle, watching porn together, mutual masturbation
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:29 am (UTC)
Samantha Bee/Jason Jones, strap-on sex
bonus - voyeurism involving another correspondent
Feb. 9th, 2009 09:00 pm (UTC)
Seriously, this needs to be done. I'm actually sad that nobody has responded yet. :(
OP - (Anonymous) - Feb. 9th, 2009 09:26 pm (UTC) - Expand
Something Different Part 1 of 3 - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 01:07 pm (UTC) - Expand
Something Different Part 2 of 3 - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 01:08 pm (UTC) - Expand
Something Different Part 3 of 3 - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 01:10 pm (UTC) - Expand
Something Different Epilogue Because LJ's Comment Length is Stupid - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 01:11 pm (UTC) - Expand
OP - (Anonymous) - Mar. 6th, 2009 01:28 pm (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:38 am (UTC)
Samantha Bee/Kristen Schaal, buddy sex, possible first time
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:49 am (UTC)
jon/anderson, lewd scrabble.
Feb. 9th, 2009 06:14 pm (UTC)
Lewd Scrabble!!!!
"'C-O-C-K,'" Anderson spells out, clicking the letters in place, "Okay, 3 for both 'C' is 6 plus 1 for 'O', 5 for 'K', double word score..."

Jon lets him finish his calculations before objecting.

"24!" Anderson declares triumphantly.

"I thought we weren't doing slang words."

"It's a male rooster," Anderson counters.

"But, did you mean it that way?"

"Since when was intent ever important in Scrabble?" Anderson asks, snatching up the score pad, "And, anyway, you only got 20 for your last word, so you drink!"

Jon has been wondering about Anderson's intent ever since he got the weird text message inviting him for "Drinks and intellectual activity" that afternoon, and even more so since he discovered the intellectual activity was Scrabble.

He takes a drink from his glass, scanning the board. It is very obvious whose words are whose. Anderson is responsible for "erection", "intercourse", "humping", and now "cock".

And then, it clicks. It is all a complicated and convoluted booty call. Jon blushes and bites his lip to stifle a smile. Anderson could have just asked him, point blank, but he has always to play games.

"I want new letters," Jon says.

"Okay," Anderson tosses him the bag and leans back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to do next. He has been dropping clues all night, and not just with his Scrabble words. The lingering hug he gave Jon when he entered the apartment, the unnecessary hand touching, the booze, nothing seemed to get through Jon's thick skull.

While Anderson is staring off into space, Jon takes liberties with the tiles, hunting down the exact letters he wants.

The clicking down of letters on the board yanks Anderson from his daydream. He looks over at Jon, who is smiling triumphantly, and then down at the board. Jon has used the "K" in "cock" to spell out...

"Fuck me," Jon says, a little grin crossing his lips.

"Seriously?" Anderson asks, but he doesn't wait for Jon to respond. He drops to the floor and immediately has his hands on Jon's hips, undoing his belt. He strips Jon's pants off, taking his hardening cock in his hands. Anderson pumps him lightly with his fist until Jon's cock is ready for him.

Jon's eyes roll back in his head as Anderson covers his dick with his mouth. Anderson takes Jon's cock deep into his throat and then leans back again, licking him up to the tip.

"Fuck, yes," Jon mutters, Anderson repeating his motion, following it with faster, shallower dips. He reaches out a hand, lightly kneading Jon's balls as he takes his dick in deep. Jon shudders and then comes.

When everything solidifies again, Anderson is still on his knees, grinning.

"Next time," Jon says, "You can just tell me what you want."

"Next time I will," Anderson answers.
Re: Lewd Scrabble!!!! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 12:48 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Lewd Scrabble!!!! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 12:53 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Lewd Scrabble!!!! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 10th, 2009 07:07 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Lewd Scrabble!!!! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 11th, 2009 02:31 am (UTC) - Expand
Re: Lewd Scrabble!!!! - (Anonymous) - Feb. 27th, 2009 02:11 am (UTC) - Expand
Feb. 6th, 2009 07:50 am (UTC)
Anderson torn between Dan and Paul, Paul wins
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