Life is such a chore

When it's boring

  “Yes, Blaine, right there, oh, oh, more, please.”

            Blaine has Kurt up against the wall, fingers digging deep into his hips, mouth sucking and nipping harshly at his Adam’s apple (no doubt leaving the biggest, darkest hickey ever), a thigh shoved between Kurt’s legs, pressing just too much against his hard cock.

            Kurt opens his eyes when he hears a low whistle off to the side, and finds a buff guy staring at him as he fucks some bent over twink.  The man’s eyes travel all along Kurt’s body, and when they find Kurt’s gaze again, he winks—a promise that he’s imagining the boy he’s fucking is Kurt.

            Kurt shuts his eyes again and tilts his head back further, concentrating on Blaine’s mouth on his skin, the soft feeling of Blaine’s breath puffing against him combined with the sharp nips from his teeth, and it feels better than ever, most likely due to the fact that they’re in the backroom of a New York City club.  He still can’t believe they’re actually doing this.

            It had been Blaine’s idea, of course.  Once Kurt stopped initiating all of their sexual endeavors, it forced Blaine to open up about what he wanted to try. And it turned out Blaine wanted to try nearly everything.

            They were careful about it—Blaine would tell Kurt an idea, and sometimes Kurt would reject it right away.  But if there was even the slightest spark of curiosity in his eyes, Blaine would convince him to at least give it a chance.

            They’d been in somewhat of rut.  Blaine’s suggestions started repeating themselves, and Kurt became a little tired of their usual bedroom activities.  Not to say that they weren’t still having fantastic sex, but they were having trouble keeping it interesting.

            Until Blaine came up with the one thing they hadn’t really tried yet.

            This time, Kurt hadn’t needed much persuading.  All Blaine had to say was “exhibitionism”, and Kurt was nodding frantically and grabbing Blaine’s face to pull him into a messy, passionate kiss.

            So here they are.  Blaine chose the club, and told Kurt to meet him there. The second Kurt got there, Blaine waved him over to the bar, and they both did several shots before moving to the dance floor, grinding heavily against one another, Kurt’s back to Blaine’s front, one arm gripping the back of Blaine’s neck, causing his shirt to ride up…they were already too drunk to notice, but they were catching the attention of pretty much everyone.

            It hadn’t taken long for Blaine to drag Kurt to the backroom, especially after another round of shots.

            Blaine puts even more pressure on Kurt’s cock with his thigh, causing Kurt to grit his teeth as the pleasure becomes painful.  He opens his eyes again, only to see the buff guy still staring at him, along with five or six other men, surrounding Kurt and Blaine, some of them jacking off, all of them clearly enjoying the show.

            “God, Blaine, look at them.  They love it.  They love you,” Kurt groans, panting heavily.  He then starts whining when Blaine removes his mouth from Kurt’s neck and stares him in the face, looking incredulous.

            “Me?  Oh, baby…you’ve got it all wrong,” he says, and then proceeds to suck Kurt’s earlobe into his mouth, slurping around it obscenely and coaxing loud moans and gasps out of the taller man.  “Sure, these guys find me sexy enough, but trust me when I say it’s you that they love.  They can’t wait to see the rest of you,” Blaine mutters into Kurt’s ear, his hot breath tickling it, as he reaches between them to start flicking the buttons open on Kurt’s shirt, Kurt moaning as Blaine’s fingers barely trace his chest.

            “They love your skin; they all wish I was gone so they could touch it instead.  They love your lips; all wishing they were the ones who had made them so shiny and red from kissing.  They love your neck; so long, so many potential hickeys to suck, and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to put them there.”

            Blaine has finally finished unbuttoning Kurt’s shirt, and moves on to his fly, working the button open and sliding the zipper down, looking around to see that even more men have come around to watch them, every single one of them now touching themselves.

            Kurt gasps as he realizes it too, his gasp turning into a low groan when Blaine pushes his pants down, sighing as Kurt’s cock springs free, and resisting the urge to laugh when more than half the guys around them moan at the fact that Kurt hadn’t been wearing any underwear.

            Blaine kneels in front of Kurt, taking his cock in his hand, and looks up at him.

            “Every single one of these guys wishes they were me…they all wish they were about to suck your cock and make you scream.  But they’re not.  It’s me…it’s only me.”

            “Only you, Blaine, yes, only—YOU!!”  Kurt shouts out the end of his sentence due to Blaine sinking his mouth down as far as he can go onto Kurt’s dick, massaging his balls in the hand that isn’t meeting his lips on every stroke.  “Oh, oh, baby, s-so, so goooood, Blaine, don’t stop, never stop, ahhh!”  Kurt babbles on, his words slurring and his head shaking back and forth as his breathing speeds up, his chest heaving with the effort.  Both of his hands have moved of their own accord, gripping the back of Blaine’s neck and tugging lightly on the curls that hang loose.

            Blaine drops his hand from Kurt’s balls to unzip his own jeans and push them down a little, quickly moving to jerk himself off as he redoubles his efforts to make Kurt come as quickly as possible, determined to get them back to their apartment right after this to fuck, just the two of them.

            Blaine glances around, and sees the crowd of probably 15 or 20 men around them, all watching him suck off his boyfriend, all stroking their own hard cocks, almost all of their eyes on Kurt.

            And who is Blaine to blame them?  Kurt is gorgeous, thrashing his head, his cheeks tinted red and his lips still puffy, the hickey dark on his neck, an extreme contrast to his beautiful, pale skin, his nipples hard and on display, his back arched off the wall as he pumps his smooth hips into Blaine’s mouth, his whole body shaking as he gasps for air, his long legs trembling beneath him.  Any man would beinsane not to want him.

            He increases his suction and takes his other hand off of Kurt’s dick to play with his balls again, and he starts humming a song around Kurt, only loud enough for the two of them to hear, and he knows Kurt will chastise him later for being so cheesy, but he can’t help himself.

            Kurt’s coming by the end of the first chorus of “Teenage Dream”, thick and hot down Blaine’s throat, cutting off Blaine’s humming and causing him to groan, Kurt’s hands holding him in place until he’s done, slumping back against the wall and shuddering as Blaine kitten licks the head of his cock to clean him up a bit.

            Blaine looks around at the group of men watching them, many of them having come with Kurt, and the rest seeming to be waiting for Blaine.  With that, Blaine looks back to his debauched boyfriend, and strokes one, two, three mores times before grunting out his orgasm all over his hand and the floor, his forehead falling forward onto Kurt’s thigh, his puffs of breath ghosting over Kurt’s sweaty, oversensitive skin.

            All in all, Blaine thinks this has been one of their most successful experiments.