Hands of a God

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Summary: He’s one of a kind.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: NC-17
CHARACTER: Kevin Harvick/Dale Earnhardt Jr, Dale Jr POV
PROMPT: Kink Bingo - Hand Fetish
COMPLETED: June 26, 2009
WORD COUNT: 1,110
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is what you could call an AU of my favorite little muses. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do. You could say this is in the same universe as Private Viewing and Reflections of Ecstasy and you can find more here.
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Is it weird to have a fetish? 

Oh, I don’t mean kinks.  God knows I have enough of those.  Pleasure, pain, isn’t it all the same?  Fucking in public, or in the kitchen, or on the racecars, that’s just location.  Positions, toys, food those are all fun and I’ve enjoyed each and every one.  I’m a kinky bastard.  There’s no doubt about that.  Some might even call me twisted and I probably am.  Dale knows all about my love of kinks and we’ve probably tried them all at least once if not dozens of times.  But there’s one thing I’ve never told him because it’s really not a kink.  It’s more of a fetish and one I’ve only ever had with him.  Seriously, how do you tell someone you’re completely in love with their hands?

I swear I’ve never been so transfixed on one thing in my life.  I’ve always been an equal opportunist when it came to body parts and I’ve admired my fair share of fine asses, tits, cocks and legs.  But this is different in ways I can’t describe.  It’s not about what he can do with his hands either, even though he’s done some damn good things in all the time we’ve been together.  It’s not about what he does or how he does it.  It’s about the fact that I can stare at his hands for hours on end and never get enough.

Long, pale, perfect fingers and hands that might’ve been sculpted from the finest marble and by the world’s most renowned artist.  I’ve always called him my Adonis but he’s never known all the reasons why.  Fingertips and palms lightly calloused from so many years of working on cars make them strong as well as beautiful and I can’t get enough.  I can’t count the times I’ve peeked in on press conferences just to watch him fidget with his name card.  To see him bending it back and forth, nimble fingers creasing and folding the stiff paper…it does things to me I’ve never fully admitted to anyone.

It’s a wonder he’s never caught me staring, especially when he plays those video games of his.  The UFC, the Madden football, I love it all but none like when he’s on his racing SIM.  The way his hands slide over the wheel so easily, so sure, it’s so fucking hot.  I love to see him grip the wheel, long fingers curling around the hard plastic. It makes me wish I was that damn wheel to be so perfectly owned by him.  But none of it compares to my ultimate wet dream. 

The first time I set foot in his place and saw that baby grand piano I thought I was gonna come in my jeans.  Just the thought of those long, pale fingers moving over the keys twisted up my insides like nothing else.  I had no idea it was a player piano he used as an oversized jukebox.  One of these days I’m gonna buy him lessons and cross my fingers because if he ever did glide his hands over those ivory keys I’d probably lose my fucking mind.

Gasp suddenly when I feel one of those hands glide across my bare stomach.  Look down to see nearly ivory fingers drum lightly over my skin before rubbing in a small circle.  I swear sometimes it’s like he knows.  I didn’t even know he was awake.  Force myself to rip my eyes away from the erotic sight and see he’s grinning up at me from his place a little further down on the bed.  He’s lying on his stomach and I wet my lips at the hungry look in his eyes.  I honestly thought he’d have slept through ‘til morning with all we got up to earlier.  Gaze into his sparkling blue eyes and I know he’s up to something.  Feel his fingers teasingly walk lower down my stomach and my breath catches again.

“It’s alright, Kev.  Go on and watch.  I know I’m gonna.”  He licks his lips and part of me wonders if he has any idea what he’s really doing to me.  Probably not.  Maybe I’ll tell him one of these days but right now…oh God right now….

Look down as his fingertips slowly trace the length of my cock and I tremble in desire.  His touch is amazing, it always is.  But the sight.  Fuck.  How often do I ever get to just watch like this?  Suck on my lower lip as he traces up and down my hard length with his thumb and finger.  I swear he’s gonna kill me.  Take in a shaky breath as he finally wraps those long fingers around my cock and brushes his lightly calloused thumb over the tip.

A groan I don’t even try to hold back slips from my lips and I watch the tendons stretch over his knuckles as he tightens his hand around me.  “Oh fuck, June.  Pleeeeeease….”  I feel his eyes on me, watching my every move, but I can’t tear mine away from the perfect vision in front of me.  Buck up into his hand as it moves over me faster and faster.  See his fingers flex and tighten around me, heightening my pleasure as he strokes and when his thumb slides over my head once more I don’t hold back my cry.

Pleasure sears through me as I struggle to keep my eyes on him, but as my slick release runs over his fingers I  throw my head back in desire.  Thrash back against the pillow and only find reality again in the form of his kiss claiming my lips. Reach for him, trying to tug him closer, but he’s already molding his body against mine as he kisses me breathless and wraps a strong arm around my waist.

“Shit, Kev….”  His voice is surprisingly husky at my ear and I hug him tighter as he presses against me.  I wish I could make him understand what he does to me, how fucking special he is.  Hell, one hand job from him blows away most all BJs I’ve ever had.  But how can I tell him?  How could I ever explain?  Curl against him as he wraps me up in his arms and kiss his neck tenderly.  Maybe he already knows.  Feel his hand run tenderly down my back and I don’t even care.  Whether he knows or he doesn’t it really doesn’t matter.  The two of us are a hell of a lot more than a list of kinks or unspoken fetishes.  This goes deeper than any of that.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com