A Gift of Unusual Shape and Size

Note: Written for a fic drive over at JumperSlash, on LJ


‘What the fuck am I doing?’ Griffin wondered, as he sorted thru the bag of things he’d just bought, hands shaking and breath coming in tremulous gulps. ‘When we started talking about kinks and the like I thought for sure David would have some tame fantasy about handcuffs, not… this.’ Fingers brushed over delicate constructions of silk and satin and lace, callused skin catching and dragging along ribbons. ‘He’s going to owe me for this.’ Was his final rebellious thought, before he pulled the garter belt from the bag with caution. Determined to go thru with it or not, he was still uncertain. ‘Embarrassed by a set of frilly knickers. What a tough bloke you are, O’Connor.’ The truly embarrassing part had been asking for help picking the shite out. Griffin couldn’t believe his own nerve in asking Millie of all people to help him pick out women’s lingerie to fulfill her ex-boyfriend’s kinkiest fantasy… it astounded him. He’d been even more shocked at her response.

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“He finally told you about that?” she reached out and patted his hand were it rested on his knee. The sheer mortification he’d felt at asking was amplified a thousand times in that moment. Bad enough his face was hot enough to fry an egg on; she had to fucking PAT HIS HAND! ‘Don’t bollocks this up, O’Connor; she knows what David likes and she knows a fuck of a lot more about girly knickers than you. Can’t do this without her help… unless you want to walk into Fredrick’s of Hollywood and ask the sales girl to help you!’

His cleared his throat awkwardly, and set aside all his bluster and pride. This was for David, after all, and he would do anything to make that bloody ponce happy. Besides, he had plans for his own kinky fantasy, and doing this first would go a long way when he asked David to oblige him. “Yeah... I just don’t have a fucking clue what to get or how to wear it.” His voice was weak and thready, like he’d been yelling for too long.

“I’m glad the two of you can be so honest with each other. I hope that’s a sign you can make it work.” She was disgustingly perky sometimes, but Griffin couldn’t bring himself to hate her now that he wasn’t competing with her for David’s attention. It had taken him a great deal of time to realize that jealousy was the basis of his hatred of this spunky young woman.

“Can- can we just get this over with before I lose my nerve?’ He’d pleaded then. She smiled at him- an enormous, charming grin- and for a moment he’d seen exactly what David saw in her. Things had progressed quickly after that.

She had led him thru some of the most upscale boutiques and fashion houses around the world, glaring at any sales person who dared comment that “this isn’t quite your size or color, miss.” He’d been pathetically grateful for her forceful assurances in that oh-so politely rude voice of hers that “this is exactly what I want, thank you very much.” The sales woman’s desire for the commission from the obscenely expensive purchase exceeded her haughty egotism in knowing what was just right for each customer.

Griffin had endured the painfully discomfiting discussion of the proper way to fasten a garter belt. And the awkward, questions, “Do you want easier access? Because you should wear the panties over top of the garter then. You can leave the garter and stockings on then, but if you want it to be slow and seductive, wear them normally and he can take his time undressing you. Would you rather keep any of this on for sex? We should get something more flexible if you do.”

Secretly, he’d been desperately thankful for the advice Millie had casually thrown in. “David loves the feel of smooth skin against his hips and down the back of his thighs, so you might want to consider shaving your legs to go with the stockings.” His face had flamed at that, but they’d stopped at a Walgreen’s and picked up some sort of… hair removal cream. He wasn’t very clear on how it worked, but he’d been blessed with relatively little body hair and his face stayed mostly smooth aside from the slight scruff he never bothered to shave off, so a razor was probably not the most brilliant idea. Now was not the time to practice. “It’s easy. You can do it in my bathroom before you go back. I’ll help.” Her quirky smile actually put him more at ease. ‘You can do this, O’Connor. The worst she can do it laugh at you, and she would have done that by now.’

It was mildly humiliating to stand there, in Millie’s lavender and aqua bathroom [the most revoltingly feminine monstrosity he’d ever rested his eyes upon], in his boxers, trying to make small talk while he waited for this crap to do… whatever it was that it did. The smell wasn’t overly horrendous, but it had a tendency to linger in the nose. But he had to admit, his legs were rather… sexy, all smooth and pale and relatively unscathed compared to the rest of him. A grin began to creep onto his face ‘Maybe this will be kind of fun.’

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All thoughts of fun had fled in face of a serious case of nervous tension, slowly making its way up his spine as he contemplated his plan. Hands shook with anticipation, and fear. ‘Fuck, you’d think I actually was the bloody girl I’m dressing up to be. Too late to back out now.’ His resolve back in full force, he stripped his normal clothes off hurriedly, but his mind lingered over the contrast between them and the lingerie he was about to put on. His leather and denim that covered acres of skin were like armor in many ways, and this frilly garbage David wanted him to wear was more like… a showcase.

First was the garter belt, since he was taking Millie’s advice. He figured that if David wanted him to go to the trouble of dressing up like this, he probably wanted to fuck him in it. If not, he could always take the rest off after. Adjusting it low on his hips, he made sure the clasps lined up properly before beginning to roll on the stockings. Real silk stockings, none of those “cheap nylon junk” ones, to quote Millie. The sensation against newly smooth skin was startling, and he unconsciously slowed his actions, reveling in the feel of them as he straightened the lace at the top. Carefully fastening the stockings to the garter belt, he paid closed attention to the angle and stretch of the satin that secured them. Millie assured him that attention to those small details now would save him trouble later on down the line. He reminded himself he was on a time limit, and moved on to the next articles of clothing.

Sliding into the black satin panties, he shuddered at the feel of the material gliding up his thighs. It was disturbingly erotic. Cool against his flesh, and smoother than should be legal, they settled into place over the straps of the garter, contrasting with creamy whiteness of his skin. Millie had easily agreed with him when he insisted on black, saying it would look wonderful with his pale skin and bright eyes. He has a feeling she would have gotten him to choose another color entirely if she hadn’t approved of black…

Millie had mentioned that the metal boning would be stiffer, but it was the most suitable bustier of everything they had looked at, so it would have to do. Fumbling and cursing, his fingers struggled with the little hook-and-eye closures all down the front. Maybe he should have taken Millie up on her offer to help… But no, he would do this himself, it was his surprise for David and he’d manage it. Tugging and wriggling, he finally settled the bustier into a comfortable position and tugged the top up about another half an inch. The bustier finished off the outfit, deliciously tight, with barely any flex, and giving the slightest hint of not-really-there cleavage. Its restrictive embrace was more erotic and enjoyable than he’d ever thought possible. Unlike most of the selection they had browsed thru, this one was meant to rest only half way up a woman’s breasts and to be obscenely tight. Its effect on him was to give the illusion of curves that he didn’t normally have, and accentuate the strong muscles of his chest, but feminizing them so they appeared more like breasts than anything else.

Admiring himself in the mirror, it startled him how… sexy he appeared. Fingers drifted shyly over his bare collarbone, as delicate as a bird’s wing. Trailing down his chest, they explored the slight swell of flesh above the constraining fabric that completed the image so well. He hadn’t expected to be aroused by dressing up like this, but it was fast becoming a turn on all by itself. The thought of David’s reaction was further stimulating him. His chest heaved gently, as drawing breath was more difficult now, arousal flavoring his blood. Slightly bolder, he smoothed his palm down his thigh, relishing the feel of satin and skin and silk, texture of them all so fine that they were nearly indistinguishable from each other.

He pulled his eyes away from the mirror, intent on the rest of his plan. Everyday clothes were tossed in the hamper, and several candles were lit all around the bedroom, giving the cave-like room a golden glow. Shyly, he lay prone on the bed, knowing that he must be making quite a display or himself, but somehow not caring. It was liberating- empowering even, to imagine the picture he made, artist’s eye noting the details. Contrast and shadows creating a fascinating play of light and dark that made his fingers itch to start a sketch, the subtle curves and valleys that took the place of more normal angles and planes. He felt… beautiful.

Noises from the main room of the lair told Griffin that David had finally returned, and his throat constricted in anticipation. ‘I hope… fuck, David hurry up!’
“Griffin, are you in the bedroom?” David called, and Griffin fiercely fought the urge to cover himself. David wanted this… didn’t he?

“Hey Griffin, I found a really cool-.” Whatever he’d started to say died in his mouth, as David gaped and blinked at the vision lying in their bed. “Fuck.” The word was strangled and David barely managed to articulate it as he was drawn towards the bed, as if lured by a siren. As he neared, he began to unbutton his shirt, compelled to worship Griffin with his body.

“So you like it?” It was strange to hear such tentative words from the usually forceful man, and David was quick to reassure him.

“God yes, Griffin. You’re so… perfect. I-.” He didn’t complete his sentence as he finished shedding his clothes and leaned down to meet those sweet lips and taste the familiar, titillating flavor of ginger that lingered there.

Reverent. It was the only word capable of describing the look in David’s eyes as he ran his hands teasingly over the cloth and flesh that was spread before him like a banquet. His eyes were hungry. ‘He looks like he could eat me alive. And he-.” His musings were interrupted as the moment shattered and David ravenously attacked him. He was more impatient than Griffin had ever seen him. Now, his fingers did more than caress and linger, they stimulated and cause him to arch up off the bed under David.

Soon, all he could do was gasp and shudder and moan, David’s hands finding every sensitive spot he knew thru satin and silk. He was no too proud to beg, “Please David... please!” his voice was thin and brittle with the effort of breathing.

His attempts at drawing oxygen were hindered by the tight fabric of the bustier. But it made everything more intense, more erotic, more passionate. Sensing his problem, David’s hands went to the clasps in the front, but Griffin’s hands frantically clutched his, holding them still. “Please, leave it on. I-I like it…” He burned at the request, face turned away to avoid David’s eyes. “Are you sure?” David purred in his ear, “It looks a little… constricting.” Turning to meet the sultry look on his partner’s face, Griffin replied. “I-it’s all right. I want it on.”

The light in David’s eyes at his words made it all worthwhile. The embarrassment, asking Millie for advice, the humiliation of the sales woman’s condescension… everything. This was what he wanted. To make David happy, to blow his mind, to fulfill his every desire.

“Fuck Griffin, you are just... amazing. I love you so much I’m afraid it might kill me.” David gasped out between kisses; his fingers twining with Griffin’s where they pressed deeply into the mattress.

A sheen of sweat accumulated over both of their bodies, air growing heated and thick, like honey. Bodies ground together in a rhythm as familiar as breathing, and Griffin tugged his hands free to clutch at David’s back. “Take off my panties.” He whispered, blush blooming across his face and neck. It was the possessive use of the word “panties” that made it so awkward. Men didn’t wear “panties,” they wore “underwear,” “boxers”… anything but “panties.” Yet here he was, in black satin panties, telling his lover to remove them. ‘He better be sufficiently grateful.’ He mentally groused.

“How do I- but-.” David’s confusion was apparent, as he leaned back and stared at the sensual outfit, as if trying to discern its secrets.

“They’re on over top of everything else, just pull them off.”

No sooner had he explained, David was busily divesting him of the flimsy material, and the glide of satin down his thighs was as much of a turn on as pulling them up. Skin tingling and body aching for attention, he moaned softly. David examined them for a moment, before running fingers in a languid trail up his stocking-clad leg until they reached the top of the lacy edge. Softly, he played with the unusually smooth skin there.

“Did you shave your legs?” David asked, delicately unclasping one of the fastenings that held Griffin's left stocking up.

“Yes.” He gasped out as David gently pushed down the silky material to expose a greater expanse of creamy thigh.

Tracing the length of an old scar, David said, “It’s sexy as hell you know.”

“I-I’m glad you think so.” he managed to choke out, beyond pants and sighs. ‘I’m going to have to thank Millie for this bit of advice, somehow.’ He fuzzily thought, senses dulled by the passion coursing thru him. ‘I never thought this would turn out so well…” thoughts racing, as if to keep time with his pounding heartbeat, as David showed him just how sexy he thought Griffin’s legs were.


Soon he lost the ability to think anything at all.