mynewplace: (penetrate)

I got to listen to a new cd Thursday. New to me, newly burnt, of music made around 1995. So new-ish. It was pretty good, as far as I could tell - but I couldn’t tell much. My office mate was there, so I had to keep the volume down, and I had it in my computer. The speakers are fair, but don’t do justice to the type of music these guys create. Jamie’s riffs are becoming familiar, so a lot of it rolled over me almost unnoticed. But then ‘he’ would come on, and his voice sounded different, just like he’d said. It had a more earnest quality; a sparkle was present that was new to me. It was almost like the difference between Pepsi and coffee, his voice then and now. I’m anxious to hear it in my car, where the sound system is good and I can adjust Jamie, tone him down a bit and pick up more of the subtleties of the other instruments. Brent weaves his way through this shorter collection like caramel through a turtle, and I want, no NEED to hear it elsewhere primarily for THAT. The ‘him-ness’ that’s in that music, in the words to the songs that he’s written. Dear God this is fucked up. This spell must be broken, please I’m begging in a crumpled heap, help me find a way to break this magnetic draw.

I told him I wanted a copy. Caution - this conversation degenerates into a sensuality-fantasy-overload. )

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Thanks to Phabala for granting me permission to share her lovely smut, which sparked such lovely imagination!  Intended to follow "An Innocent Man" as a continuation of that evening.

Smut remix )

mynewplace: (Default)

I answered the phone, and the voice on the other end made me lose my breath. 45 minutes later he was at my doorstep, and my heart was trying its damnedest to get out of my chest as I let him in. No matter how much we talk, his voice always makes my skin burn, and seeing him in my house, having his focus even for these few moments, is enough to make me ache to be touched.

He fiddled with the stereo, popped in the cd he brought with him, and pulled me to the center of the room. I hadn’t bothered turning on the lights, the moon and the streetlamp were more than enough as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my cheek. The music started, and I immediately recognized an old Billy Joel song that I had been singing in the car quite a bit lately. But there was a difference. It was subtle and I looked up at him, about to ask what was different when the voice, his own voice poured out of the speakers. The incredulous look on my face made him laugh, as tears welled in my eyes and I whispered "How did you know?"

"Shhhh..." was the only response before he bent and kissed me, his moustache brushing over my lip as he caressed it with his tongue, sliding it gently inside as the firm warmth of his lips covered mine, turning my mind to mush. Brief, too brief, before he moved to my ear and murmured "Its you. Listen."

Some people live with the fear of a touch
And the anger of having being a fool
They will not listen to anyone
So nobody tells them a lie

I leaned against him, swaying more from the contact than the music, the words that had pierced my heart so many times of late now taking on more meaning than I’d ever dreamed. The idea that he’d chosen this song and gone to the trouble of recording it for me left me gasping, fighting sobs while his hands stroked my back, my hair, and he kissed my ear, my neck and danced me slowly around the room. That he’d seen so far inside me after I’d made such an effort to never let anyone in again had me wondering if I were transparent to the world. For the second time in a year, someone had managed to get inside my skin and see what was there, and actually try to understand. And for the first time in my life, someone had chosen to do something for me, to show me in this small simple way that he wanted to see more.

The voice on the cd made me shiver, and I pressed my lips against his neck. I’d loved listening to him from the first song I’d ever heard him sing. Not in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would ever hear him sing to me. I unconsciously hummed the harmony while I buried my face beneath his jaw, his chest vibrating against mine as he hummed along too, and I smiled at the feel of it.

I'm not above being cool for a while
If you're cruel to me, I'll understand

He looked down at me, kissing the tears left on my cheeks and running a warm hand through my hair before he bent and took my mouth again. The bitterness of my own tears mixed with his sweetness, the heat from his body rushing through me as I sighed into that kiss, giving myself to him. No effort, no seduction, just allowing him to convince me that he wanted me, filling me with the warmth of his tongue, his lips, totally losing myself in the sensation. I slid my arms around his neck as I felt my knees grow weak, while his mouth took mine with an uncharacteristic aggression that had my flesh pounding.

I am an innocent man
Oh yes, I am an innocent man

The music faded and he sat on the couch, pulling me into his lap. He kissed me again, gently, and I saw an amazing heat in his eyes that I’d never seen before. I had no idea what he had in mind, but I could tell from that look that it was going to be slow, torturous and absolutely incredible. ETA: The second half of this is under construction...


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May 2017

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