nsync in black and white

Fiction by Pen . . . . . not real, made up, purely intended for entertainment

Comfort Food

there's something about the combination of Lambs and comestibles, apparently

"You know what? I think I do feel better."

Lance took another long, careful lick at the ice-cream. His tongue flicked over his lips, pink and shiny, cleaning the pale smears.

Justin whimpered.

"There's something about ice-cream, you know?" Lance said idly, contemplating the selection of flavors, melting a little now on their quivering platter. "The perfect comfort food." He took another lick. "Mmm. Yeah. I definitely feel better." He dipped a finger into the creamy fudge ripple scoop and lifted a blob to his mouth. "I'm so pleased you showed up in time for lunch, Justin. I mean, I was real pissed at you, talking like that to a journalist, you oughtta know better, you know? But this is really, hmm, this is nice. Comfort food. You know?"

Helplessly, Justin nodded. Gave a small, mewing sound. Lance smiled sunnily, and bent his head again to suck at the smear of mint chocolate chip that was sliding down the side of Justin's chest. Lance's tongue traced the drip back up to Justin's tight-wrinkled nipple, and he suckled carefully, hothot mouth and coldcold ice-cream, and Justin helpless to move. Lance's mouth moved down to the strawberry scoop by Justin's navel, and chased it across his taut and trembling abs. It was torture, it was, chill slither followed by the warm velvet of Lance's tongue, careful as a cat, lapping at him.

"What else have we got? Mmm, pistachio. I wonder where this would taste best... Ah, I know." Justin could not plead, but as the cold spoonful landed on his balls, his shriek escaped round the edges of the gag. He couldn't escape Lance's merciless tongue, couldn't move except to arch helplessly upward, pleading with his body for more, more, please. Lance had a tub of mango sorbet, he hadn't opened it yet, and oh, Justin wanted it, wanted it on his cock, wanted to feel that shock, that sharp, icythrill sensation, and Lance's mouth. He'd be begging now, if only he could.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't offer you anything. My momma would be mortified." Lance picked up the unopened sorbet. "You want a taste?" Justin tried to convey yes, yes, yes with his eyes, anything, anything Lance would give him, he wanted it.

"Hmm." Lance looked down at him, lazily unfathomable, contemplating who-knew-what possibilities. He reached forward and delicately unfastened the ball gag, and laid it down next to Justin's left arm, stretched tight and bound to the bed. Justin stared up at him, helplessly silent as though he were still gagged. "Open wide." A spoonful slipped between Justin's lips, rich, cool, soothing as it slid down his throat.

"You know what would make me feel even better?" And Lance straddled him, his hard cock glistening, and Justin felt the heat of it, the weight of it, resting against his lips, and he opened his mouth eagerly to take it in. Lance groaned happily, allowed himself to be licked and sucked like the most marvelous popsicle, Justin worked it as well as he knew how, then Lance shifted position and started to thrust in earnest, sliding into Justin's mouth, filling him ruthlessly with heat and the sweet musky flavor of cock, and Justin was so grateful for the ropes spreadeagling him to the bed because he couldn't resist, he was helpless, he had no choice, and then thick, salty cream filled his throat in a warm flood, and he swallowed frantically.

Lance stretched contentedly and made a satisfied noise as he swung himself off the bed. "Yep, much better now. Hmm. Guess I'd better put these back in the freezer." Justin watched in dismay as he gathered the tubs of ice-cream and headed for the door.

"Lance—I—please?" His hips thrust upwards, pressing his cock at the unhelpful air.

"Now what can you possibly want?" Lance said, the evil bastard, raising his eyebrows innocently and looking like he hadn't had Justin tied up and in torment on this bed for the better part of an hour.

"I need—please! Get me off!"

Lance looked down at the cartons in his hands, and shook his head regretfully. "I don't know..."


"I tell you what. I'll go see if there's any vanilla in the house. Won't be long."

Justin, tied up and trembling and more aroused than he'd ever been in his life, watched indignantly as Lance strolled out of the room.



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