Originally posted at VX Oct 4, 2006
Title: Untitled gun porn for Rachel A lady’s game
Author: Blackbirch
Rating: NC-17; het PWP, with guns and light restraints
Fandom: Knockaround Guys before the movie
Pairing: Talor/OFC (=Original Female Character)
Wordcount: 2791 words
Warnings: None really…
Archiving: No. I repeat - no.
Disclaimer: All characters are copyright of their originators. No infringement intended, no profit made.
Story Notes:
Unbeta’ed. (some obviously non English proper as I’ve used spoken English in the dialogue). Also to note that I may have mixed up on the gun parts.
I had offered drabbles for my fic reviwers at VX if they gave me promts, this is what I got from Rachel: het please…I like slash but I’m in the mood for some hot Taylor - guns always welcome LOL
Taylor was an easy guy, not that hard to figure out.
He was a tough bastard and you didn’t wanna end up on his bad side. Cause Taylor Reese’s bad side? You was lucky if you were left alive.
Or… that kind of luck that could be debated. Some who’d ended up on the wrong end of his fists and iron bar sorely missed their kneecaps and the ability to walk. In a hateful but so very afraid to show it way. Grieved their hands that had been turned into barely more than slabs of meat with bones crushed to pieces inside.
But to his friends Tay was a rock. A hard one that Marbles maybe did lean a little bit too heavy on at times. For Marbles, Taylor was always the one to hide behind when he had said too much and there was no one there to stop him. When he had run off at the mouth, usually drunk. Or stoned. Bragging he couldn’t hold his own to stand up for. So he let Taylor do the standing instead.
Taylor didn’t like it, but hey - friends. What else can you do with them? Marbles was too puny to give a beating. Also he bawled so miserably whenever Taylor did throw a punch his way, that Taylor always felt like a bigger heel than he was.
Cause giving that boy a smacking was nothing but self-preservation. Let him do the talking too long, or let his ideas run wild and you’d end up in an alley facing a bigger asshole.
Taylor Reese never backed down from a fight.
Didn’t mean he wasn’t pissed off when his mouth stung from a cut lip, his ribs bruised from some big motherfucking gorilla just cause Marbles didn’t have the brains (or brawns) to know when he’s chasin’ after other people’s girlfriends.
But hey, what are friends for. Right?
Matty, Chris and Teddy never were this kinda trouble. But then, Taylor didn’t see as much of them as he did Marbles. They had bigger things going on. Matty especially, fightin’ hard to get somewhere his father wasn’t.
Different breedin’ was all. Didn’t matter much to Taylor. Not really. Only on the days when he felt like he was nothin’ more than a sledge for the bigger boys to swing around. When he was tired of never being allowed to climb any higher than this, except wet jobs. Those they might allow him cause Taylor Reese kept it cool, he didn’t have a bloody mouth and a taste for the killin’. He just did his job, like a good soldier.
Which was why it was so nice to have a place outside this. At Her place Taylor never spoke of these things. He might let his control slip a bit; a gun here or there, bruises and wrapped fists — stuff of his life. Cause he’d found that out early that guns didn’t bother her much. Taylor had forgotten about the harness one night, gun by his ribs - a heavy comforting weight. He’d thought she was gonna raise hell, like he’d been through with some of the other girls, but there was no screeching. She didn’t seem to notice it at all.
Which was why he on more than one occasion thought it okay to bring it out, clean it and treat it as precious as it were to him. Guns were good tools, and Taylor was very careful with his own small arsenal. They were his and kept him alive, so of course they needed to be wll taken care of.
Right then, on that day, he’d been carrying his favorite. The shining gleam of a Desert Eagle. A heavy weapon with a kick like a mule, but it ran smooth in Taylor’s strong hands and arms and it never failed him. Never once a glitch. The weight and size of it did its own scare tactics without Taylor having to do much more than open his jacket, showing off that gleaming chrome and steel encased in black leather. He rarely needed to bring it out and point it with steady hands.
“Can I?”
“Huh?” Reese hadn’t expected her to walk in so quietly, so relaxed around her and in her place that he hadn’t heard her come in. Her lacquered fingernails were scraping down the gun, almost caressing its shiny surface. Soft, dry hands that wouldn’t leave smudges. “Sure baby.”
He watched her feel the weight of the gun, pointing it towards the floor and Taylor liked what he saw. She knew not to point it at someone when the clip was in, she had a steady hold and didn’t wobble it in her hands. Firm smooth grip, and with a sharp ‘click’ she made Taylor laugh as she un-clipped the mag and gave it to him. Pulled the lever back and made sure there was no bullet left in the barrel.
Safe. Now it was nothing but heavy sleek steel, blunt but no longer the automatic weapon.
She smiled at him, that devious wicked smile she kept only for him. He’d go off the bend if he ever saw her direct that at anyone else. Her lips curling in shiny lipstick and her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. Her hands lifted the gun, dragging its cool metal surface against Taylor’s naked arm, up his shoulder, over white cotton and against his neck - leaving gooseflesh in its trail. Taylor’s first instinct was to rip the gun out of her hands, didn’t matter he saw her remove the clip. A gun to the back of his neck - no joy. But he steeled his body against the instinct and forced himself to look at her, to relax and watch.
The way she looked at him like she was a cat and he was her prey. Taylor liked it when she seduced him. Making him please her, play her game and follow her lead. Made her hot as hell.
She was a sexy lady, his woman. All his. For no one else to touch. Didn’t matter what the other said about settling down, becoming a one-woman-man. He wouldn’t give up this beauty, just to taste something new that could just as well be boring as hell.
She - was never boring.
The chill of the gun barrel traced his hear. He held still. Watched.
She was standing above him, like something wild ready to devour him, and he couldn’t have been happier to be her prey.
But she takes him by complete surprise and slams his thighs together. He’s so relaxed that he’s knees jar together and his annoyed puff of air just gets giggled at. She’s not quite tamed his girl, but it don’t matter to Taylor. He likes her capriciousness and her difference, that she takes him in hand and reels him in hard when she has the mind to it. Taylor likes being surprised by her. Don’t mean he likes when she giggles at him. But it don’t matter if he gives her his stern face, she just smiles that devil smile right back at him and he always ends up giving into her when she does that.
The chrome of the gun presses against his chest as she spreads her long legs and stands over him. The steel has cooled down since it’s been held away from his skin, and now he can feel chill of the gun tracing down his chest. Taylor wets his lips as she lifts the fabric from his stomach with the tip of the Eagle. He hisses and tenses his stomach muscles as she roughly glides the shirt up, the blunt tip pressing in and sweat beads on his upper lip as she changes direction of the gun and brings it over his crotch. Pushing down, his dick twitches. His mind in a mix of horror of having a gun in _that_ place and the desire of being touched, but not touched enough. She grins at his hiss and presses harder, leaning in and with the flick of a pink tongue she licks the sweat from his upper lip.
“Take off your shirt baby”
It’s a demand and not a request. She licks her lips, like a wolf over dinner served, as he stretches welldefined arms and starts to quickly devise of his t-shirt. But before the tee slips off his arms she grabs hold of him and tells him stop. Taylor freezes, cause he’s learnt the hard way that not complying — won’t get his dick wet. She steps back and releases one of his arms from the shirt. “Arms behind your back.”
He groans in protest, but does what he’s told. Taylor knows that being a good boy now will make him a very satisfied one later. “Good. Don’t move…” He holds his arms still as she pulls up the t-shirt again, but this time behind his back. With the cotton stretched out above his elbows Taylor is successfully bound.
She stands there looking her fill for a while, her lips twitching at his impatient twisting on the chair. Leaning forward she’s back on target, slowly tracing the bulge with the silver Eagle. Touching softly, teasing tills he’s hard as a rock and tries to hump the gun for a deeper touch. Something, anything more than the skimming lightly against his hot sensitive aching body.
His lover’s still leaning over him, her luscious tits in his face but never close enough so he can taste them. She stripped her own top when she secured his arms and now they’re spread out like dessert he’s not allowed to feast on. Lick her up and hear her moan. But he’s only allowed to watch, tensed and hard. Taylor knows his shirt will never be useable again the way he’s fighting the fabric, stretching it to a point he hopes will break it so he can push her down, make her sit on his cock so he can fuck her hard. Be deep inside her.
But she only lets him try to move a little before she immediately directs him with her gun. Cold and hot, hands and chrome in a mix of fear and pleasure. He’s close to burning up when she finally straddles him and presses him down hard. Her tongue down his throat, her ass grinding against his crotch and her stiff nipples against his naked chest. Rubbing the cool metal of the gun as ice against her chest, stiffening nipples into tight buds.
And finally she lets him lick and taste. Taylor licks and nips, knows when to bite and when to soothe. Listens to the sounds she makes as he bends down and nuzzles, watches the skin flush and redden as he marks her soft mounds with his stubble. ‘Taylor was here.’
Satin skin rubbing against his own, it’s not enough and he’s straining up into her. His thighs tensing, pushing to get nearer. She moans, rubs down hard and he knows her patience is soon gone. He bucks hard as she bites his lower lip and swallows her groan. Sharp nails tearing open his fly, teeth opening the packet and the familiar sound gives his brain a tease of what’s to come just before she wraps his dick. Hot hands squeezing him and Taylor’s _that_ close to losing it. But she knows him, his shudders and whimpers and releases her hand as the other rubs the gritted gunhandle hard against a nipple. Cold abrasion that breaks the trance.
Leaning forward, she bites his lobe as she sinks down on him, to give pain with the pleasure and make him hold out longer. Playing him like the violin she knows every string and bend of. Suddenly he’s enveloped in hot tight wet heat and it’s only the pain of her pearly whites that stop it. Her tongue over a stubbled cheek, slicking his throat as she breathes into his skin. Taking her moment to settle. Deep inside and he cannot _not_ move. Bucking, twisting deeper inside and she shudder into him, clinging tight as he grinds up into her. His pubic bone pressing into her clit, slow grind and she’s already babbling in his ear.
“Oh god, yes baby, fuck me.”
He works his thighs hard, doesn’t feel the tiredness from holding tense so long, pushing up into her wetness, feels her greedily clutching him inside her. Slick muscles gliding against satin skin as she works him hard. Her hands scrabbles against his arms, the gun dropped to the floor in a metal clang, as she fights to release him. Aching to have him fuck her harder and knowing she has to let his arms free, nails scraping hard against heated skin and sweatdrops stinging.
When he finally breaks free, clutching her ass in a bruising hold she welcomes with a guttural moan, she twists her hands against his back and holds on. He heaves her up against the table, the chair pushed aside in a clanging kick, and Taylor drives deep into her with a ragged breath.
She arches against the slick surface and grabs ahold of him with everything she got, legs twisted high up around his waist, pushing him deeper and not letting go. Her hands scrabble for hold and she ends up letting go and grabbing the table instead. Arching higher, to get that burning place rubbed harder and she breaks into pieces as he drives his hands between them. Rubbing as she convulses around him, tighter and hotter fluttering around his length as he keeps driving into her.
Holding her tight against his thighs as he’s pumping into her, close, so close. Fingerbruises on her hips that matches the streaks of her nails down his back, heat and sweat mingling between them as the glide of flesh rubs them against each other. Hot agile hands sweaty against his neck as she presses his stubble onto her chest. His hot breath making her skin wet and stubble burns the sensitive nipples. Dark lips crying ‘come on baby’, soft gulps of breath as she sobs her pleasure. He twists his hips, and groans deep inside as she digs her heels into his back. Digging her hands into muscled shoulders as she arches up and holds him tight, lips and tongue devouring every moan and sigh. Kissing wildly, biting his lips and stroking his mouth. Sobbing her second orgasm into him as she bucks her body tight against Taylor’s sweaty chest and his fingertips buried in her folds. Rubbing gently with a shaking hand as he pushes hard, spilling deep inside and he throws his head back as he pumps into her with a fierce shout.
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