Natural Talent


Just some quick porny fluff for my wife happier_bunny’s bunny at qaf_bunnies. Is that the most times “bunny” has ever been used in a sentence?

The bunny: A PWP story where Brian's horny and goes to PIFA and fucks Justin in the library.

Midnight beta by gmta_nz, who is amazing.

Set in a mythical moment in Season 4, where Justin's lost the bet and gone back to PIFA, but Brian doesn't have cancer.


I leaned back in my chair and contemplated the assembled members of my staff, currently looking worriedly at me from around the conference table. I interlaced my fingers, lifted my eyebrow, and smiled pleasantly.

They all got even paler, except Cynthia, who covered her mouth with a folder.

I glared at her. She coughed.

I returned my gaze to the rest of the staff. "Any questions?"

They all assured me they had no questions.

"Well, I have one," I said, still in that pleasant tone of voice. "How did this steaming heap of shit end up being sent to me for approval?"

The head of the art department, Carson or Carlton or something like that, gulped, and gestured at the pile of storyboards. "We... we felt that the client said... the client wanted an approach suggestive of..."

"You felt the client wanted a color scheme that would trigger seizures in epileptics and make anyone not lucky enough to be color blind wish they were dead?" My pleasant expression was gone. Cynthia was looking sadly at Carson or Carlton, sending the unspoken message that he'd all but broken her heart with disappointment. Between that and my simmering anger, the guy was about to break down and beg to be fired.

"I... I...." Carlton's eyes were shifting rapidly from me to Cynthia and back again. Then they fixed agonizingly on Ted, who was frowning at his laptop screen and carefully avoiding making eye contact with anyone. He was probably looking at porn, since nothing in this part of the meeting had anything to do with him.

"You... you.... what?" I snapped.

Carson swallowed. "We'll go back to the drawing board on this... we'll work all night if we have to... I just thought... "

I smiled. "Good. I'll look forward to seeing what you come up with when I get back here in the morning."

Carlton picked up his water glass and drained it dry.

Cynthia stood up. "Does anyone have anything else?"

No one did, and they all filed out of the room, except Cynthia and Ted. When the door closed behind the last traumatized little staffer, they both looked at me.

I smiled. "Yes?"

Cynthia shook her head. "Brian, you have to stop traumatizing the art department."

Ted glanced at her. "I'd think you'd have more empathy for the artists, given that you live with one."

I nodded. "Yes. I run my business on the basis of empathy with people because they have the same career as someone I do not live with."

Ted sighed and stood up. "Well, I guess we'll see you in the morning."

When they left, I prowled around my office restlessly. I felt unsettled. I felt irritable.

I felt horny.

I sat down at the desk and hit the number for Justin's cell. He picked up just before it rolled to voice mail.


"Hey. What're you doing?"

I heard a thump, and him fumble with the phone. "I'm sitting down with a pile of art books that can't be checked out of the building, to do some research for a paper I have due tomorrow, what're you doing?"

"Trying not to fire the head of the art department before he uses up the one last chance I just gave him." I shifted in my seat, feeling my cock stirring in my pants.

I heard Justin sigh. "You really should let Cynthia deal with the art department. You'll have gone through every commercial artist in Pittsburgh soon."

"None of them actually seem to have any natural artistic talent."

Justin laughed. "You're just spoiled."

I smiled. "Speaking of natural talent..."

"Yeah?" His voice sounded half breathy and half distracted. I decided to work on the distracted part.

"I was in the mood for a world class blowjob."

"You're always horny after you yell at someone at work."

I smiled into the phone. "It's true. I am."

"So, where do you expect to find this world class blowjob?" His voice sounded amused.

"Where are you?"

He laughed. "I'm in the library at PIFA, on the fourth floor."

"I'm expecting to find it on the fourth floor of the library at PIFA."

Justin laughed again. "Hold that thought, I'll be home by 11. And I promise to take your mind off work."



I hung up the phone, and smiled. And thought to myself, not as much later as you think, Justin.

I'd picked Justin up at the library a few times, but I'd never gone in. It was in one of the old buildings on campus, an ornate, gilded monstrosity with floor to ceiling carved windows, retrofitted with fluorescent lights during the 70s. I took the stairs to the fourth floor, instead of the elevator. The stairway was dark and felt unused. When I pushed open the door marked "four," I was surprised to see nearly every table and study carrel full of black-garbed art students. There was a notable preponderance of hair colors not found in nature.

I walked the perimeter of the room, looking for Justin, and finally spotted him tucked away in the corner, his carrel half-obscured by a brick wall with sagging shelves fastened into the masonry. I leaned against the edge of the wall, and waited for him to look up.

He was making notes in a notebook, and at the end of every line, he rotated his wrist slowly before starting a new one. I'd seen him do that at home; I didn't think he was even aware of it. I saw him glance at the book open in front of him, then make a few more notes. He hesitated, and then looked at me. For a second his face was blank, but then it broke into a smile.


I smiled back. "Hey."

Justin sat back and looked at me appraisingly. "You must have really, really wanted that blowjob."

I nodded. "There are times when a mediocre blowjob in the alley behind Babylon or the bathroom at Woody's just isn't enough."

“I’m trying to decide if I should be flattered, or offended.”

I walked over to him, and leaned against the table facing him, my arms crossed. “How about aroused?”

Justin blinked. Which is all it took for my cock, already half-hard, to get the rest of the way there. Which Justin immediately noticed.

He licked his lips, and I shifted my hips a little. I didn’t say anything.

Justin shifted his gaze from my crotch to my face, and seemed to be thinking. He stood up abruptly, and moved so he was standing directly in front of me, but not touching me. He smiled, slowly, while his eyes stayed locked on mine. “Come on.”

I followed him back the way I’d come, into the stairwell. He went up a flight and a half of stairs, where there was a long landing and a door with an alarm notice on it. He pushed through it, and nothing happened. We came out onto the roof.

Justin glanced back at me. “The alarm doesn’t work. People come up here to smoke sometimes.”

I smiled, and followed him around to the far side of the roof, behind the structure we’d just come out of. The only light was a streetlight on the other side of the building, so this side of the roof was in deep shadow. I leaned against the bricks, and Justin smiled at me. I pulled him against me, and kissed him.

I felt his body fit itself against mine, and his arms wrap around my neck. I brought my hands up to either side of his head, and let my fingers brush thought his short hair. His lips felt soft and warm under mine, and when he opened my jacket, I felt the warmth of his body before I felt the cool night breeze.

Justin pulled his mouth away from mine and started to kiss my jaw, and I tipped my head back. He dragged his tongue down my throat, and his hands were opening my pants. I let my own hands fall to my side, and Justin slid down my body, pushing up my shirt and kissing my belly.

I could feel his breath on my skin, and he buried his face in my pubes while his hands rested on my thighs. I waited, and shifted my legs apart a little more, letting myself lean harder against the wall.

Justin didn’t move at first. I looked down at him, and put my hands on the back of his neck, just resting them there. I watched his face. His lips were parted, and he was staring at my cock, like he was planning what he was going to do. He opened his mouth a little more, and his tongue flicked out and swirled around the head of my cock, just as he brought one hand up and wrapped it around the base. And I was gone.

Sometimes Justin played with me with his tongue, teasing my shaft and head and slit, making me insane. Sometimes he stroked my cock with his lips and hand, and flicked his tongue under the rim while he played with my balls.

But other times Justin just swallowed me whole, taking me deep into the warm wet channel of his throat. It was almost like I imagined fucking raw would be, all that wet heat, and the gentle stroking of his muscles while he swallowed me.

His finger had found the smooth spot behind my balls, and he was pressing against it in time with the thrusts of my cock in his throat. I felt a burning in my balls, and under his finger, shooting out like electric sparks down my thighs and towards my ass. I arched my back and felt him open his throat just that little bit more, and then he moaned around my cock at the same time he swallowed, and everything inside me flared up in heat and a feeling almost like pain, and spilled out of me and into his mouth.

He stayed with me, keeping me deep in him while I came, my hands clenching at the back of his head, pulling him tight against me.

When I finished coming, my hands dropped to my sides again, and I felt his tongue licking at me, catching any little drops of come that hadn’t flooded down his throat. A minute later, he stood up, and nestled his head under my chin. I brought my arms up and wrapped them around him, and held him close, waiting for my heart to stop hammering and my breathing to slow down.

After a few minutes, I felt him shift against me, pressing his cock against my thigh. I smiled, and opened my eyes, and looked at him, my hand slipping down between us, cupping his crotch. I opened his jeans one-handed, and at the same time swung Justin around so he was leaning against the wall, and I had my body curved over him.

His cock was leaking precome, and I let my thumb smear it over the head, my fingers lightly gripping his shaft. I felt Justin move a little, pressing his cock into my hand. I dropped to my knees in front of him, not waiting or gazing or planning, just making a tight ring with my lips around his cock, my hand working its way inside his jeans to cup his balls, my other hand on the back of his thigh, under his ass, pulling him into my mouth.

Justin’s hands were in my hair now, and he was breathing hard. I let my tongue swoop over the head of his cock and dip into his slit each time I moved my mouth up on his cock, and I let him hit the back of my throat every time I moved back down. He was rocking against me, in and out, and I let my hand gently tug at his balls and my tongue play on the sensitive spot under the rim, and then swallowed him again.

Justin’s body tensed, and his hands tightened in my hair, and I tasted come in my mouth, and let some of it spill out while I swallowed the rest. He groaned roughly, and his hands were pulling my hair so hard it hurt, and I felt him shuddering against me.

When his come finally stopped spurting into my mouth, I stood up. Justin’s eyes weren’t closed, and he pulled me up and brought his face to mine, and started licking the come off my lips and my face, almost frantically. I touched his tongue with mine, then held his face and kissed him, aware of the cold air all around us, and the heat between our bodies and inside our mouths.

Justin laughed a little against my mouth, and I smiled down at him, and let our foreheads rest against each other.  

I gently stroked his neck. “Hmmmm? Is something funny?”

“Just wondering how the fuck this happened.”

I pulled back and looked at him. “The same way it always does. You saw me and immediately dropped to your knees.”


I smiled, my face hidden against his hair. “Justin?”

“I just wanted to point out…”

“I know what you want to point out. Something involving my massive hypocrisy.”

“Well, when you put it like that….”

I kissed him. It was the best way I knew to shut him up. Well, the second best.

He sighed. “I have to finish with these notes, this paper is due tomorrow.”

“I have to be in the office early, and arrange for Carson’s execution.”


I looked at him. “What?”

“Your art director’s name is Cameron. He went to PIFA. He’s a good artist. You shouldn’t torture him.”

I sighed. “Justin, he created the most… hideous thing.”

Justin patted my back consolingly. “Try being nice to him.”

I just looked at him. He laughed. “Okay, not nice. Try not terrorizing him. Fear kills creativity.”

“I don’t think Carlton would know creativity if it bit him in the ass.”

“Cameron. And he would. Trust me.”  Justin kissed me on the throat.

I walked him back down to the fourth floor, and back to his books and his backpack.

I kissed him goodnight, and he put his hand on the back of my neck for a second. “Later.”


I ran back down the four flights of stairs, and headed home.

The End