Yeah I am not worthy. At all. And it is 4am. Sorry.
Smoke dissipated around the nor formed Spy. The knife rose trying to meet his towering confidence. One more foolish sniper caught gawking through his scope. He smelled the faint scent of musk before driving his blade down. A clang on the dusty wooden floor. Sharpened metal rattled then halted, the latch of the butterfly knife left wide open. No blood was shed.
The Sniper had caught him and turned, head first, with a cruel smile and the barrel of an SMG pointed at a now exposed torso. Eyes narrowed, the Spy confused as he stared into the other man’s soft gaze. He near reached for his own piece as the other man rose from his post.
A single triggle pull would have left him in ruins on the ground. Sweat greew, hand gliding, moving yet unscene. Fingers felt a gun handle.
“Look at yah. Shakin, ready to shoot me. Am Oi really that much of a scare?”
A click. The SMG clanked harmlessly on the rotting shelf. Now the Spy could shoot with out fear of a stray rretaliation. Yet he could not. That smirk, it was not full of malice, pride, or even horrible intent. Just a soft curve.
“Oi don’t need guns, mate.”
Just as his balisong fell so did his gun, his hand unable to keep enough focus. A strong hand snatched up his collar, forcing him still. All concentration swept up to his lips which now pressed against another pair, a tongue trailing the edge before sneaking in. No resistance, only his spine tensing along with muscles, unable to comprehend the gloved hand sliding down his back to cup his ass under silk fabric. For what felt like five minutes he stood embraced, chest pushed up against the other, mouth over come by a skill he had not felt in years. Starved lungs took in fresh air as his face trembled, eyes watching the other’s through aviators now inches from his face.
“Oi know you like this, wanka.”
Of all the Snipers, the Engineers, Heavies and Medics, even Scouts he stabbed, leaving them a pile soaking in their own blood, a curse on their last breath – no joy of killing or finess could compare. At first he rejected the idea but every chemical, every neuron fired all screamed for one thing: more. A thumb traiced the now twitching lips of the shocked spy as the Sniper chuckled. In his grin no trick hid, no ill will. Just another kiss. The Spy’s gloved fingers participated this time, feeling the man’s muscular back, sending signals his brain shuddered over as it imagined just what lay under the leather vest and uniform. When they pulled apart again he remained stuck with the Sniper grasping his collar so their difference in height could be rectified with playful force.
“But, but zhe battle eet ees still-“
His mask felt the rough digits of the larger man caress from his ears down ending on his lips. Another snicker and the Sniper licked his lips.
“Not tah worry, spook. Me van’t parked just outside this building.”
The simple prospect of going into a stranger’s van, one he had just met, just kissed, just wanted to rip the man bare until his naked ass stared him in the face, sent the Spy’s heart pounding. He cared not how obvious the bulge in his pants appeared. All he could muster was a nod and that was all it took. Now guiding hands shepherded him, their fingers always hovering, waiting. Instead of being led the Spy felt arms wrap around him. If not for the support he would have fallen down on his back right then and there. The smell of musk, the hint of shampoo still in the other man’s hair. Years of being a professional, always keeping his cool, controlling every urge, every weakness. He nearly laughed at his new predicament, shaking in the Sniper’s arms as they neared the Van door, starving to touch any of his many surfaces.
The door was not locked. He could have left at any time. As he stood he challenged any other soul: Try. For before him the Sniper took off his hat and glasses and set on removing his clothes, one agonizing button at the time. Just. Try. Lifting his shirt off above his head the display peaked. First the set of abs then the pecks dusked with hair. The Spy enjoyed the form of a women: soft, tender, gentle. The though of a man handling him, the rough features and bulk, disgusted him. Yet there he was, stepping forward to touch the form in front of him as it grinned down, tossing the last upper garment to the floor. Go on. Try. I dare you.
“Loike wot yah see mate?”
No verbal answer, simply hands embracing. He didn’t even flinch when the Sniper began undoing his tie, separating his suit and casting the jacket to the bed. Face red he stood like an obedient dog ready to let the man do anything even fremove his mask. Even in his state his mind registered that the Sniper did not pull the balaclava off, making the moment even more sweltering. Now also naked from the waist up he felt arms around him, a kiss reminding him what was about to happen and a squeeze to start the festitiies.
“How yah loike it, mate? Wanna be on top? Maybe we suck off each other?”
At last attempting to speak the Spy’s lips trembled, wanting another embrace rather than words. A request never uttered before rang true despite the shaking.
“Yes. Take me. Please take me.”
Another chuckle. “You really are a good spook.”
He circled, their hands wanting to memorize every dip and rise of muscle. Then a push. The Spy fell onto the cot behind, his pants straining under the pressure wanting to be released. For the first time in his life the Spy lay back, letting a Sniper of all people to trail kisses from his neck down to his pants which were gripped and pulled down. His kicking legs preformed the rest of the removal as the Sniper wriggled out of his. Shoes fell against the wall as there were kicked off. Aftergrining against each others near naked forms the Sniper rose, still between the Spy’s legs. The Spy could still taste the other man on his lips and his body tingled where each kiss had been placed on his torso.
With a firm grip the Sniper pawed the thigh of one leg then dragged his fingers up, hands cupping to massage as the Spy writhed below. One garter was removed to lay in the expanding pile on the floor, hands traveling lower until at the foot. He held it up and gave each toe a soft peck. Then the other leg, this time his tongue emerging to tickle the heel and arc, teeth peeking out of the grin that formed as the Spy moaned and twitched. He kept the legs up, nuzzling them with his side burn and unshaven stubble. Hands now busied themselves with a tube a lube fetched from a near by table. Chilled fingers inserted themselves and sunk in deeper in such a slow fashion the Spy wanted to scream at the cold sensation and the torturous anticipation.
“Oui, yes. I want you, please.”
Hacing been preoccupied with the undressing and lubing the Spy only now noticed the erect destined to enter him. That alone deserved a shudder. His near first time the length alone, the tip dripping with pre cum, he clenched upa round the fingers inside him, unsure.
“Shhhh. Jus’ relax, spook.” A line of kisses drifted from his knee down to the Spy’s own crotch. “S’alroight if yah can’t take all of me.” He leaned down, their cocks touching as he cuddled his head nto the Spy’s chest, licking up till he reached an ear. “Oi’ll be gentle.”
As soon as the fingers pulled out the tip inserted. The tongue on his neck relaxed him and he moaned, shuddering at every inch it traveled. Near half way the Sniper pulled out, repeating and going a bit farther. Under his pounding heart the Spy’s chest heaved, French curses leaking out of lungs. His body heaved up then fell back down. On the second time the Sniper caught the torso with his hand and kept them together, sweat and heat mixing.
Now fully in he checked his catch, all breathing and groaning. With the distraction he eyed the neck still covered by the soft fabric. The Spy soon felt fingers pulling up his mask.
A hot exhale against newly exposed skin.
“Jus’ a bit mate, jus’ a bit.”
The clinging baklava was curled back to his chin to lay wrinkled. Any other object lay silenced when the Sniper pulled his length back till just his lip remained. The rumble of the sounds the Spy made resonated under his tongue as it played on the now naked neck.
“Yah loike being bit, mate?”
Unable to answer the Spy arched his spine further into the Sniper’s chest. Legs rose in anticipation of another thrust, wrapping around the Sniper’s waist. He felt the teeth set on his skin then pinch. Pain swelled and his hand shot up, gripping the back of the head hovering near his. Instead of yanking it away he pushed it closer, driving the teeth in further. No blood but the sensation sparked his climax and warm jizz dripped out between their pressed together guts.
“Yup. Yup. Oi reckon yah do.”
Simultaneously, the Sniper thrusted in and bite down again, this time harder. Such agony, such pleasure, both mixing to make something new. The Spy clenched his ass around the errection and screamed as he was rammed again and again, the fangs always present, always bearing down, the scent of blood conjuring up imagines of all of his skillful kills. There he sputtered, crying and shaking until the other man released. Warmth filled him and the teeth pulled back as he was eased back down to the cot, still shaking.
Breathing just as hard, the Sniper lay beside his fresh kill and took him in his arms. The Spy sobbed into that chest, tears of pure joy mixing with blood and still warm semen.
dailybridgerton
origamiaround
prguitarman
gummygunk
areudirty
stormborns
