Erotic short. Jude comes home to his boyfriend, and is welcomed back with open legs.
2k, rated E, M/M. More Jude Jupp and Richard Chastain — featuring anal, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, and some mild D/s and fantasy around the housewife power dynamic.
Rich and Jude first appeared in:
https://johannestevans.medium.com/saint-judes-kitchen-f153e30eb991
Jude gasped out a sound as Rich shoved him back onto the bed, spreading his palms over the surface of Jude’s chest and pushing him down against the surface of the mattress. He tried to reach up to touch Rich’s body, to touch his hips, his chest, but Rich did what he knew he’d do — he grabbed hold of Jude’s wrists and pinned them above his head, and Jude let out a needy, desperate sound.
Rich’s laugh was honeyed and dark, as dangerous as it was sweet, and his eyes caught the light and looked almost silvery as he looked down at him, his lips caught in a smirk.
“Ah ah,” he said faux-sternly, furrowing together his eyebrows, and Jude grunted, swallowing hard as Rich ground their cocks together, all wet pressure that made Jude gasp.
He’d been on charter for two months, and they hadn’t docked in Philipsburg the whole of the time they’d been sailing. He had two weeks free before he was due to ship out again, but he wanted as much of this as he could get while he was here, as much of Rich as he could get.
He’d stripped naked to shower, and when he’d come out, still a little damp with a towel around his waist, Rich had been waiting to pounce on him, just like this.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” Rich murmured, leaning down and teasingly brushing their mouths together, not actually letting their lips touch in a real kiss but just breathing over Jude’s mouth, and it made him feel like his lips were tingling, made him ache to be kissed. He surged up to try to meet him, but Rich was stronger than he was and his grip on Jude’s wrists was tight enough that he had no hope of moving once he was pinned, and that thought, that understanding, that reminder, sent a lightning flush down his body, made his cock lurch and his heart beat faster. “Been touching myself every night to thoughts of my lost Saint Jude, waiting for him to come back and fuck me right.”
“You could fuck other guys,” suggested Jude, and Rich laughed, sliding their cocks against one another, pinned between their bellies, and the pressure made Jude’s hips buck.
“No, no, see, perverse as it is, I actually like the waiting, I think, the deprivation. Desperately wanting to touch you, taste your skin again, put this cock of yours in my mouth or feel the way your lips stretch around my cock, the way you do those fucking little kittenish licks on the head of mine when you suck me. You know what I really want right now, though?”
“For me to make dinner?”
Rich laughed, and his smile was wonderful, beautiful, the best thing that Jude had ever seen, his favourite view in all the world.
“I do want that,” Rich murmured, taking his hands off of Jude’s wrists, and when Jude kept them above his head, the backs of his hands against the sheets, he raised his eyebrows and said, “Good boy.”
“Fuck,” whimpered Jude, his cock giving a sudden jerk between them, and Rich laughed as he slid a hand around him, squeezing the shaft of his cock in his palm before he rolled the condom down over him.
“I do want you to make me dinner,” Rich said again. “But first, I’m going to enjoy this cock. Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” whispered Jude, and watched spellbound as Rich lifted himself up, lined Jude’s cock up with his ass and just eased himself down. Ease was right, because he went down so smoothly, took Jude into him in one go, wet and so tight that Jude groaned from low in his throat and tipped his head back hard into the pillows, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, Rich, Richard — ”
“I miss you cooking for me, but this is what you miss, isn’t it?” asked Rich in his low, easy voice, beginning to rock his hips down against Jude’s, the movements rhythmic and slow and so deliberate that it made Jude’s head spin, made his hands twitch on the sheets because he wanted to put them on Rich’s body, feel the muscles in his thighs or the curve of his ass, but he also wanted to be good, to do what Rich wanted, to stay in the position Rich arranged him in, because the idea of being good for Rich made him feel like he was floating on air. “You miss my arse, hm? You miss my cock? You miss my pecs and my hips and my waist, miss my back, miss my strong arms?”
“I miss your… your face,” Jude managed to say, managed to bite out the words even though it was hard to concentrate when Rich was on top of him like this, when Rich’s ass was squeezing his cock, going between letting it out of him almost entirely before Jude was fucking engulfed again. “I miss the way that you, the way that you look, like this, and, and your — smile — ”
“Fuck,” Rich growled, and leaned over him to kiss him, kept rocking his ass down onto Jude’s cock as he splayed one of his hands over the side of Jude’s neck, the other sliding through his hair: his lips were hot and so was his tongue, and he kissed Jude so hard it was almost bruising. “You touch yourself on charter? You wank yourself off when you were meant to be getting a nap between shifts, huh? Tug yourself off in the shower and try to get off before someone yelled at you for wasting the hot water?”
“Please, Rich,” Jude managed to gasp out, and Rich laughed at him, laughed his easy laugh and smiled his handsome smile, played two fingers down the side of his cheek and just let them dance over the skin. “Please, please — ”
“Please?” Rich repeated, and he was teasing again, his voice mocking in a slightly cruel way that ripped right through him, made his cock ache, it was so fucking much. “Please what? Please touch me? I’m touching you. Please let you come? I’m not stopping you, baby. Please what, hm? Please pin you down? Please make you cook for me? That it, huh? Please turn you into my housewife, get you to stay home and wait for me while I go to work, so that all you have to think about is cooking dinner for me and letting me come on your cock?”
Jude couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning, his cheeks burning red, his skin absolutely covered in sweat even though he’d only just fucking showered — his cock was pulsing, his balls drawn up so tight it almost hurt to fucking come even though it was a relief, and he wanted to try to say something back but couldn’t, knew he couldn’t. All he could do was nod his head as Rich kept fucking down onto him, moaning now — he had his hands spread over Jude’s chest and he had tipped back his head, let his eyes fall closed, and Jude felt like he was witnessing something holy as he watched Rich chase his orgasm, felt the way he shifted his hips, adjusted his angle, felt him take what he wanted, what he needed, from Jude’s body.
“You give me what I need, don’t you, sweetheart?” asked Rich, and Jude shuddered, moaned incoherently, couldn’t even say yes because one syllable was too much to concentrate on when Rich was on him like this. “You take care of me?”
Jude nodded, fucking shook his head up and down like he was a stupid puppet, and he gasped as Rich came, as he felt him squeeze and clench around Jude’s cock, saw and felt the way his hips stuttered, the way his back arched, the way his fingers pressed down and squeezed on Jude’s pecs.
Jude lay there as Rich rode it out, slowly put his hands up to loosely grip Rich’s hips once he was finished, once he’d stopped, and his hips went still, and he just sat on top of Jude, straddled him and got his breath back, his chest moving up and down.
“Missed you,” he managed to say, the two syllables catching strangely in his throat.
Rich smiled down at him, this smile softer, warmer, and when he put his hand out this time it was to gently cup the side of Jude’s face, tenderly resting his palm against his cheek, the side of his jaw.
“You missed me?” he repeated softly, tilting his head to one side. “Missed my cock? Missed feeding me?”
“You,” Jude said. “And — your… smile.”
“My smile,” whispered Rich, and he laughed, turning his head away, his eyes shining for a second and his voice going hoarse in the way it sometimes did when Jude said something too complimentary, too sensitive, too fucking gay, something that took him by surprise, but it wasn’t bad. Rich had told him that, that it wasn’t bad. “It really gets you off, huh?”
“Hm?”
“When I talk about making you into a housewife?”
Jude didn’t know what to say, just downcast his eyes because he couldn’t handle looking up at Rich’s face, and Rich’s thumb slid gently over the side of his cheek. “I wish I made enough money. I’d do it, if I could let you live in the way you’re accustomed.”
Jude laughed, cheeks burning, and he shivered as Rich eased himself off him. “I can be your housewife,” he said quietly. “No one needs to know that I’m also the sugar daddy between us.”
Rich laughed, tossing the condom into the bin.
“You hungry?” asked Jude.
“I’ve been hungry since you left,” said Rich, and that made Jude laugh as he sat up, taking the PJ pants Rich handed to him. “I got everything on the list you sent, so the fridge is pretty much stocked — and I followed your recipe for the marinade and put those steaks in for you, to save you having to do them, but I don’t know. It didn’t taste right to me.”
Jude looked up at Rich, feeling his lips curve in a smile as Rich pulled on his t-shirt and boxers. He felt gooey and soft inside, knew exactly why, and maybe two years ago he would have immediately tried to shove it down or shove it away, but instead he just sat in it, enjoyed it, even though it felt like too much, made him feel stretched thin and overwrought. It wasn’t in a good way, exactly, but it was good.
“What?” asked Rich.
“You made the marinade,” said Jude. “Put the steaks in. For me?”
“Well, for both of us,” said Rich. “But I wanted them to be — to be easy for you. I know you like them that way. I wanted you to be able to just… Why are you smiling like that?”
“’Cause you love me,” said Jude, and Rich laughed.
“Oh, I love you,” he agreed. “You caught me.”
“You too,” said Jude, and he opened his mouth, closed it. He meant to say it properly, to actually say it, but he couldn’t always do it, couldn’t always say it. Rich didn’t say anything, didn’t complain, didn’t even tease him — he just smiled indulgently, and tossed him a shirt.
“I’ll cook the steaks,” said Jude, and as he went into the corridor, Rich called after him, “Tomorrow, you’ll have dinner waiting on the table when I come home, right?”
Jude laughed, shivered at the same time. “Yeah,” he said. “My dick hard too, so you can just — Sit down and eat.”
Rich’s laugh was wonderful, and Jude felt it settle, warm and heavy and familiar, on the back of his neck as he went into the kitchen and got to work.
Leave a Reply