Monthly Archives: January 2015

dinostory number eight

They’ve been sleeping together – secretly of course – for a good few months now, half a year. There are rules, Jeremy Paxman insists: No relationship, no emotional ties, just the physical. The trouble is that the Ankylosaurus has never been very good at following orders and this is no different. Despite his best efforts, the Ankylosaurus has been developing some of those forbidden emotions for Jeremy.

He could call it all off. If he doesn’t see Jeremy anymore then he can’t fall any deeper and the Ankylosaurus’s just as aware as Jeremy is of the dangers that a relationship could bring.

Eddie Mair enters first. Although he isn’t the Ankylosaurus’s type, he’s good-looking in a tough, military sort of way. Everything about him is tough and military, from his boots to his smile, though the Ankylosaurus knows him well enough there are gentle, generous eddies beneath the surface.
Jeremy is the opposite. People look at his tidy hair and the tailored suits that make him look so fuckable and assume he’s just a pretty boy whose idea of violence is breaking a nail. It’s probably for the best that they don’t know how many different ways he could kill them.

It leaves the Ankylosaurus alone with Jeremy and they stare at each other. In situations like this, the Ankylosaurus has no idea where he stands. At each other’s homes they can let their guards down – within reason. Here, though, the Ankylosaurus has no idea what they are to one another and he’s so on edge he can’t even summon a smirk.

“Fancy getting an early dinner?” Jeremy’s voice is relaxed and his words come with an easy, charming smile. The Ankylosaurus envies his composure.

Predictably they go to Jeremy’s place. It’s spotless and stylish, whereas the Ankylosaurus’s own flat has piles of plant matter, discarded bony plates and dinosaur magazines everywhere that Jeremy always frowns at.

Going into the living room Jeremy gestures that the Ankylosaurus should sit but remains standing himself. He frets for a moment, pacing. He turns his back to the Ankylosaurus for a moment as though struggling to compose himself. When he turns back, his eyes are clear and the weight of his worry has lifted: he’s made a decision. When he speaks his voice is clear and certain.

“I want you to hit me.”

The Ankylosaurus blinks and shifts in his chair. “Sorry?”

Jeremy Paxman taps his fingers against his leg. “It- relaxes me. Takes my mind off – things I’d rather not dwell on. I trust you, Ankylosaurus. Should I?”
“If you have to ask then you don’t really trust me.”

A smile dances over Jeremy’s lips and he looks very wicked. “And expecting a straight answer from you is like expecting the truth from the devil.”
The Ankylosaurus shrugs. “Alright then: Yes, you can trust me. Neither of us would be here if we didn’t trust each other.”

Everyone knows that the Ankylosaurus isn’t afraid to sleep with someone to get his job done. Fringe benefits, he jokes. Get him alone in the hotel room and the job’s pretty much done for you. Let him fuck you if that’s what it takes to get his guard down.

It’s not just work – he’s been on both sides of the equation for pleasure as well, and unless he’s very much mistaken that’s what Jeremy’s talking about.
“What exactly do you want?”

“For christ’s sake,” Jeremy snaps, and the Ankylosaurus reaches forward to grab Jeremy’s lapels and tug, pulling him off balance and onto his knees. The Ankylosaurus watches Jeremy’s surprise change to delight as he realises that they’re playing. The gratitude on his face makes the Ankylosaurus’s heart twist.

“What do you want?” the Ankylosaurus asks again.
“I want you to spank me,” Jeremy says, keeping his voice soft and deferential.

“Have you been a bad boy?” the Ankylosaurus strokes his big claws through Jeremy’s hair and smiles when Jeremy leans into his touch.
“A bit,” Jeremy murmurs, his attention on being petted. “Past transgressions.”

“And this will help?”

“Alright,” the Ankylosaurus says, pulling on Jeremy’s hair so that his face is angled up and he kisses him. Jeremy cedes control of the kiss and the Ankylosaurus is consumed by a sudden possessiveness, thrusting his tongue into Jeremy’s mouth, claws still tangled in his hair. “Up,” he says, breathless. “Across my lap.”

Jeremy stands fluidly, and the grace with which he arranges himself over the Ankylosaurus’s scaly legs makes him shiver. Jeremy is fully clothed: white pinstripe shirt and three-piece suit in dove grey – probably costs more than the Ankylosaurus makes in a month. Worth every penny, the Ankylosaurus thinks as he runs his hand over the firm curve of Jeremy’s arse, the expensive fabric of his trousers smooth under his fingers.

“You look beautiful like this,” the Ankylosaurus murmurs and Jeremy makes a contented noise. The position he’s in means that his arms are on the arm of the chair and he rests his head on them, smiling faintly. He looks at the Ankylosaurus over his shoulder; his whole focus is on the Ankylosaurus, like nothing else in the world is worthy of his attention. Not impatient or annoyed; just patiently expectant, waiting until the Ankylosaurus is ready.

Normally their relationship is turbulent at best – the Ankylosaurus would say that they are equals but only because they freely wrench power from the other depending on what mood they’re both in.

This is completely different. Jeremy has given up control willingly, a gesture of trust and need that touches the Ankylosaurus – he has to push away the hope that Jeremy might want something more. Just because Jeremy trusts him doesn’t mean he wants anything more than what they have. the Ankylosaurus will take anything he can get and if this is what Jeremy wants, the Ankylosaurus will give it his all.

He quiets his doubts and continues to pet Jeremy, sliding his hands down strong, slim thighs. The skin beneath the fabric is milky, the Ankylosaurus thinks, remembering debauched nights past; it will show bruises so prettily.

“You’re going to be black and blue when I’m finished with you,” the Ankylosaurus says, pitching his voice low and smooth. “Your lovely arse is going to have my clawprints all over it. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Jeremy says. “I want that.” A note of pleading enters his voice but he doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but let the Ankylosaurus touch him however he likes.

“You’re a bad boy,” the Ankylosaurus says and shivers at the quiet moan that escapes from Jeremy’s lips. He licks his lips and breathes deep, releasing tension as he does so until the only thing on his mind is what Jeremy has asked of him. Confidence grows in him with every breath until he feels strong, controlled, ready.

“I want you to lie there and let me do things my way,” the Ankylosaurus says, one claw-like foot resting to Jeremy’s back, the other returning to stroke his arse. “And if you want me to stop you say ‘Newsnight’, alright?”

“Alright,” Jeremy murmurs and he closes his eyes.

They’ll keep the trousers on for now, the Ankylosaurus thinks. He wants to know what that feels like, what it sounds like. He’ll strip Jeremy Paxman slowly so that they can both experience the different sensations, build up the anticipation.

Lifting his right hand, the Ankylosaurus breathes out slowly and lets go of the last of his doubts.

The first crack of his clawhand meeting Jeremy’s arse is the most beautiful sound in existence.

Jeremy gives a yelp and his hips jerk forward but there’s nowhere for them to go other than to grind on the Ankylosaurus’s scaly thighs. Watching Jeremy carefully for any indication that he wants to stop, the Ankylosaurus hits him again – firm, open palm, right across the meat of the buttock. This time Jeremy gasps but nothing more and his hips stay where they are. The Ankylosaurus builds up slowly, keeping the same tempo but smacking harder each time. The sounds Jeremy makes escalate to strangled whines that the Ankylosaurus could get drunk on and he licks his lips, and hits again. His dick is pressing against Jeremy but that’s not what the Ankylosaurus’s concerned with. Yes, of course he wants to come and preferably in Jeremy, but this is more than that. Bigger – more important. He’s being trusted and that’s the most important thing of all. More important than the Ankylosaurus would ever have thought.

Jeremy’s shoulders are still tense, a sure sign that he’s still thinking, so the Ankylosaurus continues. The repetitive movement is almost meditative and he watches Jeremy closely. Watches the way his eyelashes flutter with every slap, the way his lips open to expel a gasp or a moan or a cry.

“I think we should move this along,” the Ankylosaurus says, and is pleased to see that Jeremy doesn’t open his eyes when the Ankylosaurus reaches under his hips to unbutton his trousers. It means he’s getting in the headspace he needs to be. Not there yet, but on the way.

Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of the boring black briefs that Jeremy always wears, the Ankylosaurus pushes both briefs and trousers down to Jeremy’s knees. It’ll restrict his movement but he’s not going anywhere.

With the trousers out of the way, the Ankylosaurus can see his handiwork. The pale skin of Jeremy’s arse is delightfully pink and when the Ankylosaurus runs his claw-hand over it he finds it hot to the touch. Just pink; not red yet, not with the two layers of material in the way.

Continuing to stroke the hot skin, the Ankylosaurus licks his lips. The sound of the smacks through the trousers was slightly dull and muffled. Now, skin to skin, it’ll be sharper. Thoughts of the sounds that Jeremy will make run through the Ankylosaurus’s head and he has to swallow down a moan.

“I’m going to hit you,” the Ankylosaurus purrs. “Just like you asked me to. And you’re going to take it.”

Jeremy mumbles something that sounds like yes, and breathes deeply, his eyes closed. He looks more relaxed than the Ankylosaurus has ever seen him and those forbidden emotions rise up again, fluttering in his chest like birds against the bars of a cage. He doesn’t push them away; instead he embraces them. This is all for Jeremy, after all. It’s just a different way for the Ankylosaurus to express his feelings.

Below the hem of his shirt, Jeremy’s skin slowly turns red and glowing under the Ankylosaurus’s ministrations.

Cries that were loud at first have become quiet moans, barely more than a sigh and quieter than the sounds of the slaps that fill the otherwise quiet room. Jeremy’s relaxing slowly – so bloody slowly that it’s almost frustrating, but that will just make it all the more satisfying for both of them when it finally happens.
He’s stopped moving away from the Ankylosaurus’s touch, not even the slightest jerk forward. His cock is pressed against the Ankylosaurus’s thigh, hard and hot; a contrast to his peaceful expression.

By the time Jeremy’s shoulders finally relax, the Ankylosaurus’s claw is tingling and his big leg is aching. He doesn’t stop, not right away – he doesn’t know if Jeremy will ever let him do this again so he wants to make sure this is burned into both of their memories.

His hand comes to rest on Jeremy’s arse, stroking the hot skin and sliding a finger between the cheeks.
“You were so good,” the Ankylosaurus murmurs. “So good.”

Jeremy’s eyes open and he looks at the Ankylosaurus over his shoulder. He looks so content, a small smile resting on his lips and the Ankylosaurus thinks that should be his default expression. Sliding his spare hand up Jeremy’s back, the Ankylosaurus runs his fingers through his hair. For a long moment they just smile at each other but the slight shift in the Ankylosaurus’s position has brought his attention to the way his dick is pressing against Jeremy’s erection against his thigh.

“I want to fuck you,” the Ankylosaurus says, still stroking Jeremy’s silky hair. “Reward you for being such a good boy. How does that sound?”

“Good. Great. Really great.” Jeremy blinks slowly and his smile widens – it’s still lazy and content, catlike, but it’s indication of how much he wants it despite his brain refusing to supply him with words of more than two syllables.

He reaches forward to the end table and flips the top of it open to reveal a secret compartment. the Ankylosaurus almost laughs to see condoms and lube alongside a pistol and ammunition. Jeremy is always prepared.

When the Ankylosaurus takes them from him, Jeremy settles back down on the arm of the sofa and closes his eyes. This is an excellent position, it gives the Ankylosaurus all the access he needs.

Smothering some of the lube on his fingers, the Ankylosaurus slides a finger between the firm, red cheeks of Jeremy’s ass and slides it in. It goes in easily and Jeremy gives only a muffled whine when the Ankylosaurus adds a second.

It’s easy to open him up, easier than the Ankylosaurus’s ever known with Jeremy. A sure sign that he’s relaxed for once. By the time he slides a third finger in, Jeremy’s breathing is deeper, shaky. He doesn’t move his hips as the Ankylosaurus fucks him with his fingers, and the Ankylosaurus likes that. Likes having Jeremy lying on his lap, still half in his suit as the Ankylosaurus fucks his fingers into his ass with a slick, lewd sound.

“Up,” the Ankylosaurus says. Jeremy was ready for his cock a good few minutes ago but having such a good view of fingering him wasn’t something that the Ankylosaurus could convince himself to give up easily.

Since Jeremy is still relaxed and spacey from the spanking, the Ankylosaurus has to help him into position. The Ankylosaurus settles Jeremy into position astride his Ankylosaurus’s lap. He pushes the jacket from Jeremy’s shoulders and throws that to the floor.  Now Jeremy is wearing only his shirt, waistcoat and tie; the Ankylosaurus thinks he’ll leave him like this. The mixture of buttoned-up and fucked-out is just lovely, and his cock thrusts proudly beneath the hem of his shirt.

“Pretty thing, aren’t you?” He asks, running both of his hands down the soft waistcoat then back up to tease nipples that are invisible beneath the cloth but that the Ankylosaurus can feel beneath his thumbs, hard and erect. Jeremy sharply draws in a lungful of air and whines at the Ankylosaurus’s attentions.

The Ankylosaurus drops his hands and Jeremy whines again, frowning at the loss of contact.

“I’m here,” the Ankylosaurus soothes, wrapping a hand around the back of Jeremy’s neck and pulling him down for a kiss. The kiss is so desperate that it’s as though Jeremy couldn’t breathe if the air wasn’t filtered through the Ankylosaurus’s lungs.

The first touch of his hand to his dick makes the Ankylosaurus gasp with just how fucking good it feels – he’s so sensitive, like he’s been untouched for weeks instead of hours. But then, the Ankylosaurus has no idea how long it’s been – the time seems to have melted together; or soared away like butterflies made of ticking seconds. Time isn’t important anymore.

The gasp broke the kiss and the Ankylosaurus takes the opportunity to grab the lube and pool it into his hand, ready to slick himself up.

The need to fuck Jeremy is like a deep thrum under his skin and the Ankylosaurus rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth. Jesus, he wants this so much. It’s like the pressure building up before an earthquake, like if he doesn’t come soon he’ll explode, literally, a dinosaur volcano. But overriding that, still, is the wish to take care of Jeremy, and once the condom is on the Ankylosaurus’s hand goes to stroke Jeremy’s arse with just enough pressure to remind Jeremy of what they’ve done. It seems to ground him as the awareness – and the tension that goes with it – had started to creep back into Jeremy’s face. But now his smile turns languid and his eyes flutter shut.

The Ankylosaurus slides lube over his dick with his other hand, faint tremors running through his body at how good it feels. Jeremy hums and leans forward so that their foreheads are touching. The Ankylosaurus lets his fingers explore Jeremy’s arse and back for as long as he can resist, then one hand goes to the base of his dick to hold himself steady while the other wraps around Jeremy’s hip and pushes him gently into place.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, the Ankylosaurus looks at Jeremy, who gazes right back, his eyes serene and his lips still curved in that gentle smile.
It’s just sex, the Ankylosaurus tells himself. They’ve done it before, so many times. It’s just sex, he repeats, trying to convince himself, to push away the emotions that suddenly burst into bloom like a fireball.

His hand tightens on Jeremy’s hip and the Ankylosaurus presses into Jeremy and it is just sex, it’s just like every other time apart from in all the ways that it isn’t.

They’re still looking into each other’s eyes as the Ankylosaurus slides in, slow and careful. It’s tight and perfect, and the Ankylosaurus’s claws dig into Jeremy’s hip in an unconscious attempt to grasp control, but the pleasure-pain makes Jeremy give a low breathy moan; that in turn makes the Ankylosaurus groan and snap his scaly hips forward, pushing all the way into Jeremy’s body.

As he starts to thrust up Jeremy rocks his hips downward to help him. The rhythm is perfect and soon the Ankylosaurus is unable to think, unable to do anything other than thrust into Jeremy, gazing into his pale eyes. And Jeremy looks back, looking at the Ankylosaurus like he’s seeing something in him that he hasn’t seen before. He smiles, softly, and lefts his head fall forward.

“Oh baby,” he whispers as their foreheads touch, but he doesn’t say anything else. the Ankylosaurus tries to ignore the way his heart twists, how badly he wishes that Jeremy means what the Ankylosaurus wants him to mean.

Trying to still the thoughts he thrusts harder. It’s difficult in this position but he braces himself on the arm of the chair and drives his hips up, hard. Jeremy’s head falls back and he starts making mewling sounds.

And god it’s good. Soon all he can think about is how good it feels and shortly after that he can’t think of anything at all. Jeremy is so tight and hot, and he keeps making little aborted noises that sound like he might be trying to say the Ankylosaurus’s name.

The Ankylosaurus’s arms go tightly around Jeremy, his breath coming fast as he feels the wave of his orgasm rushing over him.

“Jeremy,” he whispers, and there’s no way he can keep the gentleness, the adoration, out of his voice now. Jeremy Paxman looks down at him, not with disgust or annoyance or any of the other things that the Ankylosaurus feared he’d see. Instead he smiles and they’re still looking into each other’s eyes as the Ankylosaurus increases the pace; as their breathing quickens; as they come together.

And they’re still looking at each other as they come back down, as the Ankylosaurus’s softening cock slips from Jeremy’s arse. Jeremy whimpers and the Ankylosaurus presses two fingers inside so that he feels a little less empty.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, kissing him. “It’s alright, you were so good, so good,” but then he has to snap his mouth shut, trapping the words that try to escape behind his teeth. He leans his face into Jeremy’s neck, kissing his soft skin and wanting more than he can remember ever wanting before. He wants to tell Jeremy how he feels but he can’t break this moment. Instead he lifts his head and kisses Jeremy, smothering his words.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says eventually. When Jeremy tries to stand his legs are less than stable so the Ankylosaurus gives him a gallant smile and sweeps him up onto his armour plated back.

Jeremy can’t stop laughing as the Ankylosaurus carries him into the bathroom. He throws the towels to the floor and sets Jeremy down on them and turns on the taps.

“You silly bastard,” Jeremy says, and the softness of his smile makes the Ankylosaurus’s heart ache. He has to look away and concentrates instead on the water filling up the tub but Jeremy leans against him, humming contentedly and the Ankylosaurus has to bite his lip, hard.

“Come on,” he says, turning off the taps and checking the water. Jeremy is still half-clothed so the Ankylosaurus undresses him, throwing the shirt and waistcoat to the corner of the bathroom. He tries to help Jeremy into the bath but Jeremy bats him away.

“You too,” he says, almost a sigh. “You first.”

The Ankylosaurus gazes down at the water then at Jeremy, whose hands are wrapped around the Ankylosaurus’s own, tugging. Something in the Ankylosaurus’s chest tugs too, and he nods.


He gets into the water and Jeremy follows him. It’s a small tub and it takes some manoeuvring to get comfortable, especially since Jeremy’s arse is fire-engine red and must be sensitive, and the Ankylosaurus is much larger than the bathtub would usually allow. When they’re settled, though, Jeremy gives a contented sigh and leans back against the Ankylosaurus, entwining their fingers where their hands rest on his scaly torso.

It makes so many emotions roar through the Ankylosaurus and he buries his head in Jeremy’s hair before he can give himself away. Post-orgasm, he feels more sensitive than ever, like he could give himself away with a wrong move. Considering that he has sex with other people as part of his job and has never done so yet, that’s a silly thought.

When the water starts to chill, they get out. Since Jeremy is still somewhat out of it, the Ankylosaurus helps him to get dry. Once he’s dry himself, he starts to get dressed but Jeremy catches his wrist.

“Stay,” he says. “Let’s have a nap.”

“Together?” the Ankylosaurus bites his lip, sure he must have misunderstood or failing that, he’s dreaming. They have never slept in the same bed – if they’re at the Ankylosaurus’s then Jeremy leaves after a quick clean-up and if they’re at Jeremy’s then the door is looked at pointedly.

The Ankylosaurus tries to quash the hope that rises in his scaly chest but it won’t be denied. This is different –this must mean something. It might not mean that Jeremy feels what he does but maybe he’s thawing, maybe he doesn’t despise the Ankylosaurus so much.

When they’re lying in the bed together, side by side with Jeremy’s head nestled into the crook of the Ankylosaurus’s neck, the Ankylosaurus can’t sleep. On the one hand he wants to cherish this moment – like so many things that have happened today he is certain that it can’t come again – but on the other he’s sure that when Jeremy awakes, clear-headed, he’s going to kick the Ankylosaurus out.

So when Jeremy awakes after a few hours, blinking in the failing light of the afternoon, the Ankylosaurus is fully prepared for an annoyed dismissal.

What he gets instead is a soft, shy smile and a kiss to the lips.

“Thank you,” Jeremy says, and the Ankylosaurus smiles, lifting a hand to Jeremy’s hair and carding his fingers through it, needing contact to ground himself, to convince himself that this is reality.

“Anytime,” the Ankylosaurus says softly, wary tendrils of hope rising in him.

Jeremy settles back down and takes the Ankylosaurus’s hand, slotting their fingers together. “Why don’t we take the afternoon off? Go catch a film.”
“Yeah,” the Ankylosaurus says, trying hard to keep the disbelief out of his voice. “That’d be nice.”

Neither of them move, though, and the Ankylosaurus’s glad. If this one afternoon is all he gets, he’d rather spend it here, where he doesn’t have to share Jeremy with anyone.

The Ankylosaurus’s never been one for thinking too much of the future. Partly because the future is so uncertain for someone in his trade; and partly because the uncertainty of it both delights and confounds him.

Like with Jeremy: the future could be full of kisses and fucking, of whispered endearments and cuddling, of tying Jeremy to the bed and dripping hot wax on him, of gagging him with his own tie, and learning all the ways to make him laugh, and sigh, and cry out his orgasm; or it could go back to how it was, to occasional sex and cordial conversations.

Not knowing what to expect, the Ankylosaurus has to take what he can get.

Whatever the future holds, for this afternoon, Jeremy is his.