'Quintessence', J/D, NC-17, 735 words
Apr. 7th, 2012 11:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This is a response to Image Prompt #75 (NSFW) at
jackdanielpromptfic. It's a Ripple Effect missing scene.
Quintessence
It's a puppy pile of archaeologists, a jungle gym of Daniels. It would be the hottest thing Jack's ever seen, except for what he's already seen in this room. Jack cups his spent package. Not even a twitch. He sighs. If he were twenty years younger --hell, even ten -- he might have a prayer of getting it up again, but he's not gonna kid himself. So he'll just wait and watch and remember...
It was nice of the local Daniel to set them up with this VIP suite. Jack could see in his eyes how much he'd love to be joining them, but he has bigger fish to fry and has to settle for thank you kisses from a couple of his counterparts. And then Jack's alone, no cameras, locked door. Just him and Daniel. His Daniel. And four other Daniels. And a big honkin' pump bottle of lube that one of those Daniels for some reason carries around with him in his backpack. Jack would wonder who on his team that Daniel is fucking with, but the only thing that matters right now is that very soon he's going to be fucking with Jack.
They all consult about the need for condoms, and they all agree none exists. It's his Daniel that comes up with the plan of action. Fair enough, since he's the one who's sharing. No one seems to mind; everyone seems to approve.
Jack approves. Jack approves big time. Jack gets to stick his dick into five different asses. What's not to like? Five strokes here, five strokes there; work his way down the line and then start over, if he lasts that long. Jack wouldn't lay money on it. He wouldn't lay money on holding out until they're all naked, but he manages somehow.
One of the other Daniels improves on the plan, and Jack nearly passes out from the volume of blood rushing south. They will open each other up for him.
And they do, and there's lube and shiny fingers and glistening assholes everywhere, and all the oxygen has somehow been sucked out of the room. It's a wonder he doesn't come on the spot. And then it really gets interesting, in a 'let's give Jack a heart attack' kind of way, because a Daniel comes up with yet another brilliant idea, and everything begins to happen in slow motion as Jack shakes and sweats and the Daniels slick themselves up and couple like railroad cars.
"Do us like this," the last Daniel in line suggests, turning to look over his shoulder at Jack. Another fucking improvement. The sheer amount of brain power in this room is fucking lethal. Jack expects that this now will actually kill him, but not until he's dicked every last one of them, by God, and he will die with a smile on his face.
The caboose Daniel is the only one Jack has to work to get into. Five strokes takes a little while, and you could hardly even call the first three 'strokes', but Jack finishes with him and shunts him off onto the siding and moves up the track to the next hole, open and eagerly waiting for him. The train metaphor is just goofy enough to provide him with enough distraction to stay the course, or very nearly. He barely makes it out of the fourth Daniel and into the fifth, and that final Daniel may or may not have gotten the five strokes he'd been promised. At that point, counting to five required a higher degree of brain function than Jack possessed.
That final Daniel is the only one Jack can pick out of the crowd now. He's the one with Jack's come trickling down his leg.
As he leans back against the pillows on the bed and watches, there's a creepy little tickle at the back of Jack's brain that's trying to tell him he should be alarmed that he can't pick his own Daniel out. It's easy to ignore. He knows that his Daniel will be the one that's left after the others dress and leave.
But meanwhile, there are five Daniels wrestling and climbing all over each other, vying for the privilege of fucking Jack. Okay, four out of five. There's one in the back still looking for the best way onto the dog pile. Jack's kind of rooting for him.
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Quintessence
It's a puppy pile of archaeologists, a jungle gym of Daniels. It would be the hottest thing Jack's ever seen, except for what he's already seen in this room. Jack cups his spent package. Not even a twitch. He sighs. If he were twenty years younger --hell, even ten -- he might have a prayer of getting it up again, but he's not gonna kid himself. So he'll just wait and watch and remember...
It was nice of the local Daniel to set them up with this VIP suite. Jack could see in his eyes how much he'd love to be joining them, but he has bigger fish to fry and has to settle for thank you kisses from a couple of his counterparts. And then Jack's alone, no cameras, locked door. Just him and Daniel. His Daniel. And four other Daniels. And a big honkin' pump bottle of lube that one of those Daniels for some reason carries around with him in his backpack. Jack would wonder who on his team that Daniel is fucking with, but the only thing that matters right now is that very soon he's going to be fucking with Jack.
They all consult about the need for condoms, and they all agree none exists. It's his Daniel that comes up with the plan of action. Fair enough, since he's the one who's sharing. No one seems to mind; everyone seems to approve.
Jack approves. Jack approves big time. Jack gets to stick his dick into five different asses. What's not to like? Five strokes here, five strokes there; work his way down the line and then start over, if he lasts that long. Jack wouldn't lay money on it. He wouldn't lay money on holding out until they're all naked, but he manages somehow.
One of the other Daniels improves on the plan, and Jack nearly passes out from the volume of blood rushing south. They will open each other up for him.
And they do, and there's lube and shiny fingers and glistening assholes everywhere, and all the oxygen has somehow been sucked out of the room. It's a wonder he doesn't come on the spot. And then it really gets interesting, in a 'let's give Jack a heart attack' kind of way, because a Daniel comes up with yet another brilliant idea, and everything begins to happen in slow motion as Jack shakes and sweats and the Daniels slick themselves up and couple like railroad cars.
"Do us like this," the last Daniel in line suggests, turning to look over his shoulder at Jack. Another fucking improvement. The sheer amount of brain power in this room is fucking lethal. Jack expects that this now will actually kill him, but not until he's dicked every last one of them, by God, and he will die with a smile on his face.
The caboose Daniel is the only one Jack has to work to get into. Five strokes takes a little while, and you could hardly even call the first three 'strokes', but Jack finishes with him and shunts him off onto the siding and moves up the track to the next hole, open and eagerly waiting for him. The train metaphor is just goofy enough to provide him with enough distraction to stay the course, or very nearly. He barely makes it out of the fourth Daniel and into the fifth, and that final Daniel may or may not have gotten the five strokes he'd been promised. At that point, counting to five required a higher degree of brain function than Jack possessed.
That final Daniel is the only one Jack can pick out of the crowd now. He's the one with Jack's come trickling down his leg.
As he leans back against the pillows on the bed and watches, there's a creepy little tickle at the back of Jack's brain that's trying to tell him he should be alarmed that he can't pick his own Daniel out. It's easy to ignore. He knows that his Daniel will be the one that's left after the others dress and leave.
But meanwhile, there are five Daniels wrestling and climbing all over each other, vying for the privilege of fucking Jack. Okay, four out of five. There's one in the back still looking for the best way onto the dog pile. Jack's kind of rooting for him.
(no subject)
Date: Apr. 15th, 2012 02:39 pm (UTC)And so many Daniels who all want to seduce Jack - no wonder Jack nearly passes out from the volume of blood rushing south*g*
(no subject)
Date: Apr. 15th, 2012 02:49 pm (UTC)Lucky, lucky Jack!