#notforwack

“Are you sure about this, Amir?” Your voice was soft against his neck, a hand gently stroking his chest as you were cradled up in his lap. “I know you want to get some tension out, but we could always do it the old-fashioned way.”

His fingers rapped against your sides, as his leg rapidly shook, up and down, up and down. “I know, b-but I need that comfort. I need to feel you. Like you, you, you know?”

You nodded, hand settling against his cheek. “I get you. But once we start, I’ll have almost full control of your body. Every aching muscle, every anxious joint.” You guided his face, focusing his gaze on your eyes. “That's a lot of power over you. And I'm glad you trust me with it, but are you sure that is really what you want right now?”

He nodded again, hastily. A flash of irritation crosses his face, eyes clenched. “I know what I want. Just… please.”

Sol, he looked like he was hurting. The anxiety that filled him, sat in his chest like an anvil, weighing his heart and lungs down, barely letting him breathe. You leaned in, lips just barely apart from his. “Safeword?” You whisper, breath running along his lips. “On-lyne!” He smiles, just a little bubbly.

You nod, gently pressing your lips to his… before disappearing into thin air. In the millisecond between the dissipation of your body, and the twitch that runs along his brain, there's an intangible silence… and a whisper.

His body slumps against the couch. His head moves, eyes narrowing in worry. “Drifter? Are you in there?” His hand moves without input, a cheeky thumbs up. “Mhm. Just getting used to it, puppy.” At that, he whines. He's weak to pet names like that.

You gently take stock if his body, back arching as you stretch and stand, before gently leaning back on the couch. “Would you like a specific position for this, Amir? Laying, sitting, legs in the air and violently shaking?” You giggled, in the back of his mind. He smiles, nerves starting to abade, as though your voice surrounds him in warmth. “Up to you, future. Just… do this quick, okay? That's how… how I always do it.”

At that, he feels an involuntary frown come up on his face. You didn't like that, didn't like that at all. Then, like a voice in the back of his head, you spoke. “I'm gonna take my time with you, Amir. I know I joked about wanting to make love at nine thousand miles per hour, but… not right now. You gotta take it slow for me.”

Slowly, you reach out with one hand, taking the zipper of the glove into it, and peeling the glove off in full. You do the same with the other, as you gently rub Amir's hands on his thighs, getting the feel for the dual sensation.

You can feel the muscles ache in his body, the involuntary twitching lighting his body on fire. You could feel his impatience, his little despair at the thought of having to take it slow, but you could just as easily feel the ache in his loins. Your loins. You stopped for a second to parse the exact phrasing you would use for this, and he whined. “Please, Drifter. I'm… I'm desperate here.”

A sigh left his mouth, a distinct sense of mischief crossing his mind. That was a very bad idea, he thought. “Very bad indeed,” you replied. “Beg for me. Beg me to touch you, Amir.” You scooted his body back up onto the couch, using his hands to slowly, painfully, pull down his… pants, for lack of a better term. As soon as you moved his pants down far enough, his cock sprung from its cage, dribbling softly.

“There you are…” you whispered, cradling his mind like you were whispering in his ear. “There's the tool I was looking for. Delicious, as usual. It's a shame though, that I won't be getting to play with it.” You forced him to stare at his own cock, twitching and drooling. His head fell back, body arching slightly, as if squirming in pain. “Not unless you beg like I know you can.”

His teeth ground against each other, as he tried to stop himself, but it all came tumbling out. “PleaseIneedyoutogetmeoffpleasepleaseplease-” Suddenly, his mouth shut closed, his voice muffled, akin to clamping your hand over his mouth. He didn't understand. He was doing what you asked. Wasn't that enough?

“Cohesive, Amir. Say it slowly. I know what you're saying. But I want you to say it.” Tears stung at his eyes, as his jaw finally relaxed, a small exhale leaving from the bottom of his throat as he spoke again. Slow. Steady. Measured. “Please. I just… I need you to touch me, make me touch myself. Whatever. I can't handle this torture…”

He was so busy regaining his composure, controlling his breathing… he was almost surprised by the feeling of his hand wrapping around his cock, and slowly beginning to stroke. It twitched in his grasp, the muscles of a phantom gently moving under his skin.

“There we go. Does that feel better, dear? That feel good?” He nodded violently, his head leaning back once more, as your combined efforts tangled under his fingers.

You set the pace, but it was his hand that moved.

He whimpered, stroking slowly from base to tip. A little nudging, and his thumb rubbed on the underside of his head, teasing at the frenulum. “Nice and steady,” you whispered, the ghost of a hand running across his chest sending a shiver down his skin, “it feels so much better, doesn't it? The teasing, the aching… the throbbing.”

Amir tries his best not to moan, but nothing stops you from making him open his mouth, letting all the sounds spill out from his soul. “So loud… you think Eleanor can hear you? Arthur, Lettie? Quincy? They might be hearing you, letting me pilot your body, jerking you to completion…”

Amir's head lolls down, glasses gently falling off from his face, and onto the cushion. A hand glides into his hair, guided by invisible muscle, as it grips the scalp. Moans slip from his mouth like honey, spilling out into the air. A phantom echo of pleasure rips across his body, as his hand is allowed to move just a bit faster.

“There we go. Just a bit more. Come on…” The pleasure is almost too much for him. This was an experience, unique, one of a kind. And it was all for him. The hand stroked faster. It was at a pace he was used to, but at an intensity he couldn't even fathom.

He felt so warm. Like your body was wrapped around his. Like you weren't next to him, or inside of him, but all around him in one big hug.

Amir's back began to arch, his hips rising into the air, as his hand was allowed to move even faster. You whispered in his mind, sweet affirmations, how good he was, how obedient… quickly bringing him to the edge of climax.

As he shivered on the edge of climax, mind racing and breaking under your guidance… he suddenly felt cold. Very cold. Before a second hand wrapped around his cock.

You sat on your knees in front of him, jerking him off, your lips against his cock as you pressed kisses to his tip. Even more so arousing was his glasses, perched on your nose, enclosing your eyes.

“Cum, Amir. Cum on my face. Don't hold back… let all that build-up finally come out.” You spoke softly, barely a word out of breath or out of line. Calm. Collected. Loving. “Cum.”

And that he did. He spilled ropes of seed onto your face, plastering not just his glasses, but your entire face in his load. It spilled from his cock like a tap, as he arched and moaned and whined so prettily for you.

Finally, as his load dribbled from his cock, barely dripping from the slit, you stood. He didn't even have the energy to look at you, exhaustion taking him. He almost didn't notice, as you leaned in, pressing his cum-covered glasses back onto his nose and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek.

“I'm gonna go get cleaned up, Amir. You know where to find me.” And at that, like it was nothing at all… you walked away. He chuckled softly, nuzzling in the towel that had materialized next to him.

A hesitant but heavy knock on your door is what wakes you up from a light, dreamless slumber. You stare at the ceiling, as you always did into the early hours of the morning before Dante fished you from your rooms, and back into the inferno.

Of course, that wasn't Dante.

It was still late, it had to be. Heathcliff and Ishmael weren't bitching at each other yet.

“Coming.” You swung your legs off the bed, sheets rustling under your movement as you stood. Your large hammer sat against the wall as usual. It was a good tool, and in the morning it would see its use again… likely smashing whatever abnormality you could find in the mirror dungeons in a two-handed grip.

You shook your head. Focus. Whoever's waking you up, it has to be important.

You walked over to the door, pulling it open and peeking your head out, to see… “Sinclair? What're you doing here?” You looked down at him as you spoke, stretching against the doorframe. Suddenly, the idea that this might be important felt less likely.

“Oh, um…” he was silent, looking up at you, before finally stuttering out an answer. “I needed to talk to you. And…”

“And it couldn't wait until the morning?” You said, your hand moving to your hip. “I was just getting to sleep…”

“It's important, I promise.” You were almost about to roll your eyes and tell him to go to bed, but he spoke quicker than you could act. “It's about… it's about that night.”

Oh.

Shit, that was important.

You looked down at him, your mouth slightly agape. “...that one?” He nodded solemnly, his head hanging slightly as he looked up at you.

You sighed, then lowered your arm, and pushed the door open.

“Thank you, Fourteen.” The name rang like a bell in your ears. Even as much as you trusted Sinclair. You still couldn't tell him your real name… nor anyone else on this bus. Faust might know, Vergilius too, but no one else did. It was too risky.

Even for you.

He slipped past you, moving to stand in the middle of your room. Faust had said that it would match your current mental state, but you couldn't vouch for it, not having seen anyone else’s rooms. And really… yours always seemed to stay the same. A dull, domestic room. A bed, a desk, and a bookshelf. No decorations or windows.

Could be worse, you supposed.

Of course, the last time Sinclair had seen it, it was the same. But he wasn't.

Not after Calw.

“So… how do you want to talk about it?” You spoke softly, as if speaking any louder than a whisper would break him in the wind.

How do you talk about that sort of thing? The night after you kill Kromer, and he slips into your room and begs you to hold him? To… touch him? To make him feel like he has something real, something tangible with anybody else on this damn bus?

You said no. You still hugged him, but when he leaned in, practically begging you to fuck him, you said no. He was vulnerable, beyond vulnerable. He had faced more in one day than most people should have to in their entire lifetimes.

Not that you wouldn't want to. He was cute, and sweet… but it felt like nothing less than taking advantage of him. So you'd stopped him before he kissed you, and he left. It was a simple rejection, with a simple reaction.

You pushed him away, and he left.

You'd felt it for days afterwards. The awkwardness, the tension… and so did a couple of other Sinners. You two were practically attached at the hip, and when you sat on the opposite end of the bus, Rodya, Gregor, and for some reason Hong Lu had a myriad of questions for the both of you.

You only answered when Ryoshu came around. You didn't think she'd truly, genuinely care, honestly. But when she sat next to you, she had a very simple statement for the only other person who could (tentatively and hesitantly) decipher her acronyms.

“T.T.H.O.I.W.G.Y”

Talk to him or I will gut you.

Her hand never left the pommel of her blade, and as she stood, her eyes never left your face. Then she sat down next to Sinclair, an oddly protective tilt in her presence.

You hadn't gotten around to it, yet. For some reason, the idea of speaking to him sent a shiver in your gut, the kind of thing that no abnormality really inflicted on you. A sinking feeling. Like you were on the cusp of running out of breath, but only barely. Just that little hope that you'd climb out, as long as you did something.

Oddly enough, he'd been braver than you. An uncommon thing, but… things had changed after Calw. After Kromer. So you supposed that maybe it wasn't so odd after all.

“...I want to tell you I'm sorry.“ Sinclair finally spoke, as he sat on your bed. He wasn't wearing his usual company attire, clad in only a pair of socks, some slacks, and his button-up undershirt. “I put a lot on you that night, and… it was…”

“Stop. Just… don't.” You sighed out, walking in front of him and looking down at him. “I know what you wanted. You wanted to feel a real connection. After what Kromer had done… taking your want for belonging and twisting it for her own desires, I get it.”

You sighed, as you plopped yourself down next to him. “But I wasn't going to let you make that kind of decision. Sure, you weren't drunk or nothing, but… you were compromised, all the same.”

He was silent for a moment, after you finished speaking. “I…” He sighed, before attempting to speak again. “I still want that, Fourteen. I want you, but I just don't know… it isn't about Kromer anymore. It isn't about what she did to me. It's about me and you, now.”

Then, with the most confidence you've seen him display since he rushed her with a spear, he spoke with a growl.

“I don't want her corpse to bear its weight down on my life anymore.”

You didn't say anything more on the matter. You supposed that was a good indication as any that he was clear of mind, that he was thinking of himself, and what he thought was best.

So you obliged.

Your hand came to rest on the bed behind him, as you leant down. “...have you ever done this before?” He looked up at you and shook his head, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, watching you. “Ever even kissed another guy?” You spoke, and he shook his head again, and his lips parted slightly.

You didn't even realize you'd leaned in so far.

Your lips pressed against his with caution, only fully leaning into it when he reciprocated, bringing his arms around to cradle your neck as you pressed into him.

Your hand slid up from the sheets, splaying across the curve of his back, just above his tailbone. He's pliant, letting you push him back flat onto the bed, both hands gravitating to his waist as continue to sloppily make out with him.

What he lacks in experience and wit, he makes up for in enthusiasm. His hands move to caress under your shirt, slipping up your back to feel your body tense under his hands. Your lips glide from his lips to his neck, lathering wet kisses along his throat as you catch your breath.

“P-please.” He whimpers under your touch. You smile wickedly, your face stretching against the skin of his neck. “Cute, but don't start begging yet. I haven't even done anything.” At that, his head rolls back, and he whimpers a little louder.

You give him one last kiss on the jaw before extracting yourself, taking a look down at him as you straighten up. You've still got a knee on the bed, settled between his thighs, only barely hovering from his crotch. As he looks up, you smile, admiring the view. “You should scoot up. Get your head on that pillow, get comfortable. You're gonna want yourself prepared for this next part.” You fully get up, giving him space to follow your directions.

As you stand from the bed, fully separated from Sinclair, you make a quick decision. The pants? They gotta go. You turn away from Sinclair, fumbling with the buttons on the front of your company pants. You don't notice the way the room changes around you, the way it shifts and moves, a mirror materializing in the corner of the room, giving Sinclair a clear view of not only your back, but your front too.

Sinclair's eyes are locked in a scathing debate, arguing between staring at your boxer-brief clad ass, or the heavy-looking bulge he can spy in the mirror. The implications of the changing room are clear to him, even in the haze of arousal spreading across his mind.

You want him to see you like this. You WANT him to get hard at just the sight of you. And as you finally notice the mirror, you smile gently… before reaching up and pulling off your shirt too. “Well, I showed you mine.”

You turn around, finally looking at Sinclair again, no clothes besides the briefest of boxers. “Your turn.” You finally declared, crossing your arms as you gazed over him.”Don't keep me waiting… if you're still up for this, that is.”

He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. You're almost about to get worried, but then his hands move up to his shirt, and he begins to slowly unbutton his company shirt, fumbling with the buttons in his anxiousness. He was still fumbling with the buttons when you stepped forward… and was still fumbling with them when you stood beside the bed.

Sinclair was starting to get frustrated, his shaking hands fumbling with the buttons, before he finally resorted to just slipping it off after one or two of them were undone. You didn't even get a chance to speak before he had moved onto his slacks, wriggling them off quickly.

You were unaware of the consequences of such an act. Unaware of the thing that you had unleashed by telling him to take off his pants.

Unknowingly, you had stumbled upon an absolute hog, attached to a person who seemingly did not have the attitude to match the… magnitude of his equipment.

In plain terms? Sinclair had a fat cock. A stallion of an instrument, attached to the sweetest man you'd ever met. Quite frankly, it’d put you on the back foot. You weren't expecting him to be small… but nothing could've prepared you for the absolute Goliath that he had been unknowingly lugging around.

“...holy shit.” You didn't even try to hide your shock. How could you? Your mouth had been agape from the second he'd gotten his slacks off.

“Is… is it…?” He spoke softly, apprehensively. He couldn't tell what you were thinking, the thoughts running through your head. He didn't need to worry though.

You were predominantly concerned with how you were gonna wrap your mouth around the thing, let alone put it up your ass.

“Stay like that for me.” Your voice was tinged with just a minute amount of fear, but you weren't scared enough to back down. You crawled onto the bed, laying next to him… and then reached down to wrap your hand around his cock.

Luckily, you could get one hand around him, and that was all you needed to stroke him. The second he felt your palm wrap around him, his breathing quickened, his whole body tensing as you moved your hand, up and down, up and down.

You leant down, your face settling on the pillow next to him, as you wrapped your body closer to his. “Relax for me, Sinclair. Relax…” You spoke softly into his ear, your lips only inches away so that he could focus on your words, your presence.

His body began to slowly relax, but the bucking of his hips and the strained moans escaping from his lips made it clear that he was feeling every bit of pleasure you could give him. “Tell me how you feel, Sinclair. Every little detail, come on.” You could practically feel the shiver that ran down his spine, the trembling against your lips as you kissed his neck.

“So good… so warm…” He thrusted up into your palm, voice devolving into desperate, whiney whimpers as you stroked him. But there was a tinge of frustration in his voice. That desperate twinge of pleasure, rising up from the back of his throat. He thrusted harder into your hand, bottoming out against your palm.

You stared down at him, watching his face. There was a snarl in his breath, as he panted into the air. You knew the feeling well. “It’s not enough for you, is it? Is my hand not good enough for you, Sinclair?” You whispered into his ear, the tease sending shockwaves through his body. “N-no, it’s fine, I just…” He winced as if he’d been pricked with a needle.

You’d left a decent bite mark on his neck, the kind of thing that would heal over a day or two… but would be decently obvious in the meantime. “You don’t need to lie to me, Sinclair. I can see it in your eyes. It’s the kind of thing that drives sweet little things like you crazy.”

The hand around his cock stopped its ministrations, before letting go completely. The goliath stood still, swaying softly as he throbbed into the air, before drooping and relaxing. You looked at his cock, and back at him, before shaking your head. “You’re lucky I like you so much.” As you spoke, you slowly crawled over him, laying on your side in front of the beast of the hour.

You started off tentatively, giving it a careful lick, just under the head. Just to test the waters. His breaths got heavier, his head slowly falling back until you slapped his thigh. “Look at me, Sinclair.” you whispered against his tip, the warm breath cascading over the slit of his cock.

He’d been so brave for you, this whole time. So willing, even as he whimpered and whined… so you decided to be brave too.

With one smooth motion, you looked him in the eyes, put your mouth over his cock… and sunk straight down to the base. You coughed and gagged, but he did much, much more. His eyes were wide, staring straight into yours as a long, drawn-out moan dripped from his lips like honey.

You were on him, taking him from tip to base, gagging sloppily, drooling all over his blond pubes. You stroked what wasn’t in your mouth, and when he grabbed your hair softly, trying so desperately not to harm you, you let him.

Briefly, you popped off his cock, spit covering your chin. “You wanna control the pace, Sinclair? Get rougher.” You smiled, wide and teethy, before diving back on it, sucking him off thoroughly.

He whimpered loudly, his whole body shaking. Both hands gripped, one upon the sheets, the other’s grip strengthening in your hair. “Fourteen… Fourteen, I can’t…” Sinclair was moaning loudly, thrusting up into your mouth with abandon as he tried desperately not to blow his load.

For just a second, he thought you might let him cum, that it might end right then and there. But as that aching heightened, as the feeling got more intense, right before he was about to pop…

You forced your head away, sitting up on your knees in front of him. “Not… yet.” Understandably, you had to catch your breath. Frankly, you were surprised that you lasted as long on him as you did.

Maybe you were just as desperate as he was, in a way.

You swallowed the spit and pre-cum in your mouth and throat, wiping the drool off your chin, as you looked down at him. You both knew what came next. The main course, as Rodya would’ve called it.

“Have you ever put anything up there, Sinclair?” you asked, slowly crawling over to him. “Up-up my what?” He finally spoke again, still dazed and shellshocked from a near climax experience. “Your butt, dummy. Played with toys, touched yourself…?” He shook his head, his hair disheveled and tousled.

You sighed, sitting yourself just above his crotch as your cock laid against his stomach, hard. “...then I guess this one’s gonna be on me.” Gently, you rolled back, nestling his cock between your ass cheeks.

“I’m gonna put you inside me, Sinclair. And when I do, I don’t want you to move or do anything. Let me handle all the work… and with your size, that’s a lot of work, okay?” The head caught against your hole, as you ground your hips slowly. You caught his hands, which were previously gripping the sheets, and brought them to your hips.

“...and if you’d like, you can stroke me too. Help me get off for you.” Your breath hitched, as the head caught against your hole yet again. His hands repositioned again, one wrapped around your waist to press against the small of your back, the other gripping your own length.

“Are you sure…?” Sinclair spoke, hesitation and worry laced in his voice, but you just laughed it off. “I’ve been waiting too long for this to back out now, blondie.” You leant back, reaching down to grab his cock… and slowly, you began to sink down on it.

“Mmph… hah…” While you would’ve liked to take him all the way to the base in one fell swoop, one adventurous grind immediately told you that wasn’t going to be an option. So, slowly, you began to bounce on him, grinding back further and further onto his shaft. You could barely think, barely even felt the way he slowly stroked your cock, his thumb grazing over the ip and under the head.

Despite Sinclair’s lack of experience, he sure knew how to work your cock. Every stroke felt like heaven, but it paled in comparison to the way his fat dick burned inside you, searing your anal cavity as you finally took him to the base. “S-Sinclair…” The hand on your hip gripped harder, as you looked down at him, the cloudy look in your eyes giving away the pleasure in your system. “Thrust… fucking thrust…”

No more words could be spoken by either of you, as you both finally began to grind against one another, truly clashing bodies with fervor, like you were trying to beat each other into submission with your bodies. Sinclair couldn’t even speak, loud sultry moans slipping from his lips, sweat beginning to drip from his brow. You weren’t in a much better state, only barely hanging on for dear life as you both fucked one another. Your head hung back, rolling to the side as you focused only on the feeling of taking him all the way inside.

“I-inside. Finish inside.” You barely managed to squeeze out, your whole body giving in as he stroked you quicker and quicker. Neither of you could last much longer, both bodies being ticking time bombs, with very little time left.

“Sinclair…!” You screeched, before blowing your load across his body, spurting rope after rope across his thin stomach, some launching far enough to drape across his cheek. He wasn’t much far behind, gripping both hips and thrusting up into you, balls deep as he came. His voice was a mess, moans and whimpers escaping from his mouth, as he drained his balls in your ass. “F-Fourteen…”

Both of you collapsed, his massive hog slipping from your gaping hole with a popping noise. You fell to his side, cradling him close as you finally came down. “Hah… damn.. You did a number on me…” Your voice felt raw, strained from screeching moans. Sinclair nodded, his hands reaching to hold you close.

‘That was… I…” You smiled, reaching up to wipe the streak of cum from his cheek. “Fun? Hot? Perfect?” Sinclair smiled wide, nodding. “Good,” You smirked, gently tapping his chest. “I’m glad I could make your first time… memorable. Now, uh… be a dear and grab a towel out of the dresser? I don’t think my legs’ll carry me.” He giggled, that beautiful smile settling across his face.

As he sat up, moving to stand from the bed, you grabbed his waist. “Wait.” Quickly, you sat up, and brought your lips to his. It lasted no more than a couple seconds before you pushed him towards the dresser, onto his feet. “Next time, you’re not gonna feel your legs.” His smile became nervous, a healthy worry in his gaze.

As he finally stood up, you looked to the mirror, smiling as you got a full view of his butt. “Cute.” You chuckled out, a blush running over your face.

The next morning, as the sinners individually piled out of their rooms, you and Sinclair left at the same time. You weren’t really going to hide what happened, as much as Sinclair might have wanted to. With so many people packed in the nebulously tight space of Mephistopheles, and such a strict schedule, the rest were bound to find out anyway.

Still, as you took your seat next to him, a gentle smile reaching your face, you were surprised to look up and see the whole bus, standing over the seats and looking to the two of you. Various smiles, giggling gestures, and the very much stone faces of Vergilius and Faust stared back at you.

You tried to come up with any words, but Ryoshu just stepped forward, puffing on a cigarette. She had a grin in her eye, one of the few that ever reached her face.”D.B.S.L.N.T.” She spelled out, before turning to sit in her seat.

The other few seemed to understand, laughs leaving lips as quickly as they went back to their seats. Rodya and Heath laughed especially hard, as you turned to look at Sinclair, who was currently beet red. “What did she say? Why’s everyone laughing?”

He looked up to you, his face burning with embarrassment, as he finally managed to speak. “D-don’t be so loud next time…” And as you finally understood, you too went red with embarrassment.

The black wax of the candles on the end tables next to either side of the bed smelled faintly of lavender, as you sat, cross-legged. You shuffled gently, as you breathed slowly, and softly. A cool breath leaves your puckered lips, before you close your eyes.

You'd done this ritual a hundred times now. It was simple, once you finally memorized the runes. Slowly, you breathe again, proceeding to speak in a silent tongue.

Silent to you, that is.

You held your own tongue, afterwards. Any words would disrupt the summoning, and any movement would ruin the sheets under you. You could see the glowing light behind your eyelids, dark and blue, like the glow of a TV screen.

Then, slowly, you felt a weight on the bed. It defied comprehension, just like everything else about them, being both heavy and light, all at once, and never at the same time. You held your breath, as you felt its icy gaze, physically felt the void in the marrow of your bones as it laid its vision upon you. It crawled closer, arms near your sides, weight shifting as it moved.

It was here, the summoning finished. And so, you spoke. “Good evening.” Somehow, you felt it eat up the words, then spit them back up, returning the introduction in your own words, voice, and tone. Slowly, you felt the mass-less tendrils of the void, more nothing than something, graze across your already naked thighs.

You nodded at its response, hearing it speak once more, this time with the unique amalgamation of a million souls ringing out from its voice. “A pleasure, little one.” Its voice wavered and wheeled, as though it's vocal cords were only now formulating as they spoke. “An offering, tonight?”

You nodded again, silent, as you spread your legs, its mass trending up your thigh to your waiting, slowly hardening cock. You felt it hum, as it rubbed the mass against you, before ripping it away. “Good flesh. As always.” Suddenly, you feel as though you hear a million switches click into place, locking and unlocking, before it stops, as if all sound was suddenly cut. “You may open your eyes.”

You knew better than to disobey it, as you opened your eyes. Its form was made from the nothing it existed in, designed to resemble a human, but always with some stipulations. The details were never consistent, body parts changing as you saw them. It was almost impossible to perceive the fine details of its face, and the skin always seemed to sink into itself whenever you held your hands on it. The only consistent thing was the hole in its nothingness, the only thing about it that always felt the same. Well, when it was wrapped around you, that is.

It crawled over you, a shiver running across your body as it's mere presence sent your mind spiraling into submission, your body collapsing back onto the bed.

It always did like when you were helpless and malleable.

It's hand moved to your chest, collapsing against your flesh, a cold feeling running through your body. You feel as though something wraps around your heart, as it straddles you. “Pretty little thing. Easy to break…” It's “face” moved to your neck, a breath running across your skin, slathering the area in freezing cold as it finished, “...easy to consume.”

A chattering noise escapes it, as it leans back. Slowly, it's limbs contort, the abyss underneath its skin shifting, it looks back down on you. It's voice escapes, as it shivers on your lap. “Feel better moving, however. My little one.” It sounded… strained. If you didn't know better, didn't know what it was… you might have mistaken it for emotion.

Your thoughts were interrupted by its mass sinking down on you, your tip pressing dangerously close to its hole, a dripping black void slowly falling into droplets on your crotch and cock. A deal was to be made, after all, and it didn't like to be made waiting.

As it sank down, it made no noise, before finally letting out a long, drawn-out moan as it took you all the way to the base. The insides of its hole moved and clenched, as it took you inside. It was slimy, warm… and it felt better than anything you could find with a human. The feeling was deeper than the skin, than the nerves or the flesh of your cock, the pleasure stretched all the way to your soul, as you whined out in pleasure. And when it started to move, you whimpered and arched your back against it, your crotch sinking into its skin, allowing you to get even deeper than you thought possible.

It's movements were jittery, sharp, like it was attempting to ride you but could only emulate the general motion. It didn't matter, as it's hole had a mind of its own, the warmth running along your entire shaft as it throbbed with purpose. You could feel it staring down at you as it moved, silent. A lack of auditory encouragement might've stopped you to ask what was wrong, but as it moved atop you, it twitched, it's hands roaming you as it feasted on the warmth of your skin like a parasite.

It was clearly enjoying itself atop you, it's body seeming to come apart at the seams as it's twitching got faster. “This sweet feeling… ecstasy…” It's voice fell apart as it spoke, devolving into charged, violent moans. It dove into your neck, it's face settling in the crook of your neck as a strange sensation overcame you. It kept riding you, milking you as you felt its body sink into yours.

It's flesh seemed to collapse against you, absorbing your skin into itself as it collapsed in pleasure. You both kept moving, the end approaching closer. But clearly, it was already finishing, it's hole bringing you even deeper into its body as it worked through climax to finish you off.

You didn't need to ask. You already knew what it wanted you to do, already knew that it needed your cum to be satisfied. So, as it brought you to the edge, you gleefully let yourself tumble off the cliff.

You could feel your mind literally melt and clump back together, jumbled in pieces. You felt sensations that can't be described, all along your body as you temporarily became one with a beast beyond comprehension. You felt it's body collapse around yours, a black ooze covering your body as you spurted out into nothingness. Then, and only then, as you experienced what could only be described as ascension, did it allow you to pull out.

You panted and breathed against your pillow, recovering as it slowly returned to form. It removed itself from your neck, it’s face coming to rest light, oozing kisses across your jaw. “I am satisfied, little one.” It always said that, so plainly and simply, like it was always a certainty.

And knowing this thing, maybe it was.

And then, just like that, it vanished. Had you no confidence in your own faculties, and had there not been those kisses on your neck, still oozing and dark, you might have come to the conclusion that you were insane.

To tell the truth, you hadn’t read any of  Elliot’s prior, shorter works before you had actually become friends with him. It’s not that you weren’t an avid reader, nor that you weren’t particularly interested. His work was just one of those things that fell into your blindspot during the hazy, depressing Joja days. There wasn’t much time for reading when there was a “weekly” quota to meet, and you were expected to fulfill that quota in a couple of days. 

But, after moving to the farm, you suddenly had a large chunk of time on your hands. Turns out, farming is just a lot of sitting around and waiting, if you don't count the occasional bouts of fishing and cutting dangerous  monsters to ribbons (or, alternatively, getting cut to ribbons and having to stop by the clinic and get lectured by Harvey and Maru. You were fairly sure you could kill some of those stone golems with how thick your case file was after a couple years in the valley.)

However, after getting to know the man past a quick introduction on your first foray into the beach, you’d taken a gander at some of his work. Various stories in various genres; mysteries, sci-fis, a small fantasy novel that hadn’t been entirely finished… he was a storied author, but he hadn’t actually published anything yet. The genre that had stuck out to you the most, however, had been his romance novels. The man’s tendency for flowery prose and language fit well in such stories of love, heartache, and occasionally lust. 

The latter, however, wasn’t always Elliot’s strong suit in writing. Elliot was a romantic man, and physical intimacy was always a part of that, but writing actual sex scenes seemed to be a weak spot for him. He could write smut well, there was no doubt, but as his lover you always noticed how… flustered he would become. While writing his newest novel, coincidentally about a “handsome and rugged” farmer boy and an aspiring writer, he’d cooped himself up in his room several times this week, but the start of autumn had creeped up on you. You’d been too busy to notice the way his face turned red whenever he looked out of the window of his study, watching you plant new crops and tend to the animals. Too busy to notice how whenever he greeted you after your farm work, his touch lingered on your arm as you planned out the next day’s work in your head. Too busy to notice his disheveled hair and clothes whenever you knocked on his study’s door to bring him dinner.

And quite frankly? It was driving him fucking crazy. Elliot was up the fucking wall with desire, filling pages and pages full of the most illicit smut he could think of. He spent hours pouring over those pages for typos and grammatical errors, but every time he looked at the pages he thought of you. Elliot thought of your hands around his neck, your hands in his hair, forcing him to take you deeper and deeper, his back arched as you pumped deep into him from behind… but the fantasies wouldn’t cut it anymore. He needed to feel your skin on his, needed your hands around his hips and your lips lingering for more than a chaste peck. He needed to feel you whisper, sweet and breathy, into his ear as your hand stroked him to completion. He wanted everything, everything right now… but he had a semblance of restraint. He would at least ask politely before he begged you to tear him apart.

Finally, a week into the season, he got his chance. Rain had finally come, the auto-feeders were filled, and you were free. Elliot had been draped over you in his sleep, his hand across your chest as you slept on your back. He gazed upon your sleeping face, letting the pitter patter of the rain on the window soothe his mind, as it ever wandered. Eventually, the allure of the crook of your neck was too much to bear, diving in softly to feel your warmth on his lips. He had to stop himself from grinding against you as he took deep, long breaths of your scent in.

You awoke to his hand caressing your cheek, his breath heavy and warm on your neck. You moved slowly, wrapping your arms around him to pull the rest of him flush against you. If you were any more conscious, you would have felt his length pressing against your leg. You turned your head to look at him, the smile on your face coming naturally. Your voice was soft, glazed with the sleepiness that marks the recently awakened. “Good morning, Elliot.” His hair was disheveled, tangled, and thrown about, but through it all you could still see his handsome face. Framed by the soft early morning sunlight seeping through the window, you didn’t care to stop yourself from staring.

It was quiet, despite the one-sided tension. You were relaxed, gazing into your lover's eyes, but his mind was going utterly feral. You’re always amazing to him, always, but in this light? At this moment? No words could describe his utter attraction towards you. You were nothing less than the most gorgeous being on the planet, and he knew it for a fact. Said beauty stunted his response, forgetting to remove his head from your shoulder to speak. It was muffled, but you got the gist of it; something like “Good morning, my darling.” As he fell back into your neck, his hand snaked its way into yours, as warm and soft as it’d always been.

However, your body had other ideas. It had been in that bed for eight long hours, and it needed to stretch. As you did so, tensing and relaxing and spreading your body out to work out the stiffness of sleep, you felt it. You could feel it, hard against your thigh now, and you weren’t foolish enough to believe it to be anything other than Elliot’s penis. You were about to just chock it up to morning wood, until you felt his breath quicken against your shoulder, his hand grip yours tighter, and a barely stifled moan breach his lips.

Sensitive… he was always so sensitive when he was pent up. The oddities of the week started to piece together inside your head, clicking together ever so simply. You were stiff, for a moment, painfully so… similarly, his cock was STILL pressed against you as you debated and questioned in your head what to do. A conclusion came quickly, however, and with that you turned to him and brought a hand to his face. You chased his lips with a passionate fervor, wasting no time with words that you thought would just get in the way. He breaks the kiss quickly however, proving you wrong as he straddles you.

“I need you, my love. Badly.” It’s short, breathy, lacking his usual smoothness and charisma. These are words tinged with just as much lust and desire as love and passion. “I need you to fuck me, darling. I’ve needed it all week.” His hips move feverishly against yours,  a look of strained arousal on his face as he rubs himself against you. Your hands move to them, slowing his movements as you take control of the situation. He groans in protest, but you pay him no mind. After all, he’ll be feeling much better once you get those pants off of him.

Pulling off his sweatpants while he relentlessly grinds himself into you is no small task, but it’s easy compared to keeping yourself from ripping the fabric of your boxers. Truth is, this whole scenario almost had you as riled up as him, straining against your underwear while he raised his hips so you could pull his off. His shaft and balls rested heavy on your stomach, painfully hard and red, throbbing as it felt the warmth of your skin. Elliot looked down at you, his breathing heavy as he tried his best to contain himself. You were little better, your hands resting on him, one on his hips and the other on his thigh. Slowly, you slipped your hand between the both of you and pulled your cock through it’s fabric sheath, gazing into his eyes as you stroked it slowly.

“How do you want me, Elliot?” Your hand stroked his thigh, grounding him in the moment as you spoke. As he answers, he rubs his knuckles over your stomach, the other resting on his leg. “Like this, my dear. I want to look at you. I want to look into your eyes.” It's shaky, but it's said with a grin and a comforting tone. You sit up slightly, your cock resting against his ass as you look at him. He nods, and the fun starts.

You line yourself up to his hole and begin to ease yourself in, wary of how tight he is. Elliot braces himself on your shoulders as you push inside, a long groan escaping his mouth as you stop about halfway inside. You clash your lips with his as you fully push inside, muffling each other’s moans. You hold him close, lazily thrusting into his ass as you bask in his body. You keep looking up into his eyes as he looks down into yours, composure lost as he moans quietly into the air. Your hands roam his body as he shivers in your grasp, one hand resting lightly on his ass, the other gliding up his back, slowly coming to the back of his head.

Your hand rests in his hair, pulling him closer so that you could line kisses along his jaw. Elliot whined into your ear as you pumped into him, reaching the deepest parts of his body as he ground his hips into yours. He was so pretty like this. No wonder you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling his hair, giving you the perfect angle to lay kisses on his neck. He couldn’t stop himself from bucking down onto you harder when you bit his neck. You couldn’t help yourself, instincts taking over as you left your mark on his body. As you ruined him, inside and out, he moaned and cried out in pleasure, your hand still pulling his hair to get better angles to lay kisses and bites.

Elliot wasn’t going to last very long. Right then, all of his most lustful desires were being fulfilled, and he couldn’t be more satisfied. The love of his life was balls deep inside of him with no intention of pulling out, and he couldn’t be more in love. His cock was rubbing against your stomach, and he couldn’t feel closer to the edge. “My love… I’m… not going to…” If your hand hadn’t been in his hair, he would’ve collapsed into your shoulder, crying out as he peaked. He tumbled over the edge of orgasm with a loud, drawn out moan as you wrapped your hand around his cock. As you stroked him to completion, he whimpered and melted under your touch, cum splattering across your stomach in a vulgar display of love.

You, however, weren’t done. You were getting closer, every thrust becoming a monumental hurdle. He was no longer grinding against you, as exhausted as he was, so you were fucking up into him at your best pace. As you inched closer, you hesitated, whispering into his ear. “Can I… finish-” He interrupted quickly, exhaustion fading under a burst of excitement. “Inside, my dear, inside of me. I want your cum inside of me…” Your response was swift, firmly clashing lips together as you held his hips and thrusted up into him as fast as you could. You brought yourself to your climax quickly, holding him down on you as you filled his hole with a nice, thick creampie. 

You crumpled back onto the bed, Elliot falling with you as exhaustion took its toll. You were sticky, tired, and covered in cum. You were also in a state of absolute bliss, holding your lover tight in your arms as the both of you recovered. He held you just the same, whispering praises and affirmations into your ear as he tried to regain strength in his legs. It was his suggestion that the both of you get in the bath, one that you quickly agreed to. Slowly, (with slightly unsteady legs on Elliot’s part) a warm bath had been set and soaped up, bubbles overflowing onto the bathroom floor.

Eleanor’s hands pressed flat against your chest, pushing you into the chair of the internet cafe desk. You were worried. This was stupid, incredibly so. Sound would reverberate in an empty mall like this, and it wasn’t as if you two were totally alone. “Are you sure about this? The others-” Her hand pressed against your cheek, interrupting you as she spoke (or rather, thought) softly. “Won’t hear us. I promise.” A shivering breath escapes your mouth, as you speak again. “Arthur’ll fucking kill me if he finds out.” Eleanor giggles at that, before smiling, another thought ripping into your brain, like a tailor’s knife through fine silk. “Then stay quiet, and he won’t.”

Your hands drift down to the buckle of your pants. When you got here, you quickly traded voidshell compounds and weaves for simple denim and fabric. It was lighter, it fit in better… and it was comfier. She stared up into your eyes, the mischievous glint in her eye as prominent as always. “Are you sure you-” She rolled her eyes, pushing your hands away as she unbuckled them for you. “You can pay me back later, but right now…” Her hand gently tugged at your pants, your hips lifting off instinct as she tugged them off. “Right now is about you.”

Gloved fingers reached out to prod gently, a gloved palm following close after to rub against the straining of your pants. “F-fuck.” You whimpered it out, softly, terrified of who might hear. God forbid Arthur hears you… or Quincy… or Lettie. You wouldn't hear the end of it, if you were still alive. She loved it, though. Loved the way she could make you shiver and whimper in the middle of the Hex’s safehouse with just a stray thought.

Of course, she knew the truth.

You loved it too.

She kneeled in front of you now, placing soft kisses on your stomach as she pulled up your shirt. She could see your scars, some evidence of your time spent in the Origin System, some fresh from your scraps in the streets and metros of Hollvania. Her other hand roamed the elastic waistband of your underwear, freshly scavenged from a ransacked supermarket.

As she started to peel your underwear down, trailing black lipstick kisses down your stomach, down to your crotch, you couldn't help but shiver.

She didn't pull them off entirely, leaving them halfway down your thighs in the case of an… unfortunate intrusion. Her breath traveled along the length of your cock, half-hard as her hands roamed along your inner thighs. “Relax, love. You don't want all that anxiety to affect your performance, after all…” She smiled, clearly teasing you, trying to rile you up as the blush crossed your face.

Some part of you was worried. You knew what appendage lingered in that mouth of hers, but ever since that kiss on New Year’s, you both had gotten a little braver.

This was the result of a massive amount of tension, a veritable dance of extended boundaries and worried glances.

You couldn’t prepare for how her mouth felt. As she took you into her maw, the tendril that resided behind her teeth wrapped around you, like a venus flytrap. Your back arched into the chair, a mild mixture of arousal and fear showing on your face as your hand flew up to your mouth. Again, she giggled, the vibrations around your cock a far more pleasant feeling than the tendril’s grasping and probing. Finally, you let out a real, tangible noise. “Damn. That is… a hell of a feeling.” Her hand roamed against the outside of your thigh, as she started to bob her head. “Do you want me to stop?” she whispered, your mind hazing as you felt her really dig around in your head.

You shook your head, your senses consumed by her psychic abilities. It felt like she was hugging your brain, caressing and kissing between the nooks of your mind.

It was far more pleasant than you thought it'd be, and the infested tongue in her mouth started to get a real hang on how it wanted you, finally starting to stroke and caress. It was wet and hot, black lipstick starting to smear along the length of your cock. Her hand grabbed yours, guiding it to her head and ponytail.

“Get a grip, love. You'll want it.” You nodded, as she began to move faster, enticing you to use that newfound grip she had given you.

You knew you weren't gonna last long. With a tongue that literally had a (hive)mind of its own, the very enthusiastic woman it was attached to, and the mind-fuck powers of said enthusiastic woman… you didn't stand a chance.

You bucked your hips up into her throat, moaning softly as you began to lose yourself in it. “Come on. Cum for me, Drifter. My Drifter.”

And just like that, you were gone, spilling your seed into her throat as you tried desperately to keep from moaning out in pleasure. The tongue in her mouth coiled around your cock, dragging out all of the semen it could manage, before she pulled away, its host finally satisfied.

“I'll leave you to clean up. But… I'll see you in the backroom tonight, love.” She laid a gentle kiss on your cheek, before walking off, hips swaying as the last of her psychic powers faded. It left a pleasant haze in your mind that you really couldn't shake, even if you'd wanted to.

The tavern was unusually empty tonight. Elliot, Emily, Pam, and Gus were still here, but otherwise, all was quiet. Sam and Abigail weren't going to be here tonight, and 5 were kind of worried. You'd been going steady with Sebastian for a couple of months now, but when Sebastian called you and told you he wanted to talk, he sounded deadly serious. That laid back, eternally apathetic veneer melted away, the stress clear in his voice. Whatever he wanted to talk about, it was eating at him. And now, the mystery and questioning of what exactly had him like that was eating at you too. You could only distract yourself with thoughts of chickens and plants for so long.

The stress was amplified when you heard the tavern doors swing open. Your head snapped over to the side, watching him as he walked in. Purple hoodie, hair swept to the side, eternal frown, all the same place you left it. He bee-lined towards you, not even acknowledging Emily's greeting or meeting your eyes before plopping down next to you.

"Hey, Sebby. You alright?" He shifted in his seat, looking up at you before looking back down again. His leg was shaking in place. You scooted closer to him, placing your hand on his leg, and his breathing got faster. "Sebastian? What's wrong, baby?" His body shivered when you said that, in a way you'd never seen him do before. He looked at you, finally keeping his gaze on yours. His eyes were half-lidded, his face flushed red, and he was sweating slightly. And before you knew it, he was on you.

His hands planted against your chest as he rushed you down and started to kiss up your jaw. "Need you, Sunshine. Need you badly." He brought his hand up to your neck, bringing you in to kiss him. Your lips locked with his, the kiss hot and heavy. His lips were soft, and his tongue immediately darted into your mouth. Your hands moved to his neck and back, keeping him close in your embrace. A small moan rumbles in his throat as he pushes himself, trying to get closer in whatever space there is. You could smell his scent, thick and heady, of cigarette smoke and motorcycle oil. He mentioned earlier that he was gonna work on it today, but as his hand started to slip under your shirt, his motorcycle was the last thing you wanted to ride. As his kisses start to dip lower into your collarbone, you get a glimpse over his shoulder and see Gus staring straight back at you.

Your back stiffens immediately, and you snap your hand to his, grabbing it. "Sebastian, we need to go." He looks up from kissing your collarbone, seeing the look in your eyes as you and Gus engage in the world's most judgemental staring competition. He looks back at Gus, the look in his eyes enough to put the fear of Yoba into any man. Without any hesitation, he stands, pulling you along with him. You're already out the door before you can even apologize for the show you were putting on. He drags you out of the tavern, but you don't let him pull you any further. You stop, pulling him back before pushing him against the wall of the tavern.

You were out in the open, and anyone who decided to take a night-time stroll through the town would see the way you plant kisses along his jaw and grind your body against his. "You're so fucking horny for me, aren't you, Sebby? So needy for my touch, making out in the middle of the tavern… you've never been like this for me, but I'm liking it." As your jeans move against his sweatpants, the clothed bulges between you become more pronounced. Finally he speaks, soft and hushed. "I've been thinking about you all day. Couldn't get you out of my head." His hands glide up to your face, holding it as he finally confesses, "Nobody's ever gotten me like this before, this… needy. I need you, Sunshine." You move away from him slightly, making eye contact as your hands move away from him. "As much as I'd love to fuck you, right here, right now, where anyone could see us… I feel like we'd both be more comfortable at my place." Some semblance of clarity finally reaches him in his addled state, and he finally nods. "Yeah, I'd rather we weren't known as the guys who bang in public… my mom would get pissed." At that you laugh and nod, the tension in your body finally relaxing as you grab his hand and start to walk. He follows, closely pulling his hood up as the rain starts to fall on the cold autumn night.

You're barely even through the front door before you've got him pinned against it. Your lips are on his, one hand moving to his ass and the other palming his crotch. His arms wrap around your back, pulling you close as your kiss deepens for only a mere second before having to pull back for air. In between pants of air, he mumbles something under his breath, a small blush starting to creep up on his face. You grin, before bringing a hand up to his face. "Didn't catch that, babe. Say it one more time." His blush reaches a fever pitch, before he finally squeaks out, "I wanna suck your cock really bad please."

That catches you by surprise, but you try not to let it show on your face as you pull away, unbuckling your belt as you do so. "Do you, uh want to get to the bedroom, or-" You didn't even get to finish your sentence before he was on his knees in front of you, shoving your pants down your legs before finally coming face to face with the last bit of clothing covering your already hard cock. He starts to tug at his own sweatpants as he strokes your clothed dick, feeling it quickly rise and throb for him. "You're so damn hard." He says, finally pulling your underpants down and coming face to face with the whole thing. It nearly slapped him as it sprung back up, his hot breath running along your stiff cock. You could feel every small breath and every little twitch as he admired it. "You've got a… a really nice dick, Sunshine." He said, finally bringing his hand up to your cock, slowly wrapping it around it as he looked up at you. Sebastian gave you one last small smile, before finally wrapping his lips around the head of your cock.

"Fuck, Sebastian…" His tongue glides along your head, as he wastes no time trying to take you deeper into his mouth. Despite what presumably little experience he had, he was giving it to you like a pro. He was sucking along your length, your hands slowly settling themselves into his hair as your body relaxes into his. His tongue was almost masterful as he reached all the sensitive spots along your cock. He looked so cute and pretty down there, his hand slowly pumping on his own dick as he tried his hardest to pleasure you. Your hands hadn't left the hair under his hood, even as you pushed it down to get a better look at his cute little face. "So good for me… such a good boy," you whispered, watching as the hand pumping his cock became just a little bit faster, and the blush on his face became a little bit redder. "Oh, you like that, Sebastian? You like being called a good boy?" He nodded, pulling your cock out of your mouth, saying while still slightly out of breath, "Call me pretty, please." You moaned as his lips wrapped around your cock again, "Such a pretty fucking boy for me." His hand moves away from his cock, covered in pre-cum, as he tries to stave off his own orgasm. He gives the head of your cock one last lick and kiss before pulling off once more. His head lolls to the side, a smug grin on his face as your cock is practically dripping with pre. "You, uh, wanna fuck me Sunshine?"

You don't even answer in an understandable language, only nodding as shallow breaths seep from your mouth like steam on a cold day. Slowly, Sebastian keeps stroking his dick as he stands up and walks to the wall. He leans against it, beckoning towards you. Sebastian watches as you walk towards him, legs almost unsteady as his, and bring yourself into his embrace. You bring your hands down to his waist pulling up one of his legs and bringing it up to make space for you as your cock finally slips past his and pokes up into his ass.

The realization comes to you of the silence of the whole ordeal, excluding some dirty talk. The way you understand each other with so few words. The way you both moan and whimper in each other's arms. And as you kiss him on the lips, and finally push past the last ring of resistance and into his body, you finally feel whole tonight. Your body starts to move slowly against his, your pumps shallow, despite your excitement. "Sebby," you moan, pumping into him again, "I love you." Dispelling some of the lustfulness and finally introducing more love into the experience, he brings you into another, deeper kiss. "Love you too, Sunshine." At that, your body speeds up, your dick sliding in and out of his asshole. You plant your face in his neck and start to bite and lick along his collarbone. You can feel the way his ass gives, meeting little resistance as you finally start to pound into him. The clapping of skin on skin starts to ring across the room like a crowd watching an exhilarating performance, and he finally starts to moan into your ear. "Fuck your good boy… keep fucking me," over and over he repeats it, a divine chant in a holy ritual as you fuck his ass. The rhythm becomes solid, like a drum beat in a slow rock song, you bring yourself into him over and over again. Your words are barely coherent, small utterances of appreciation and love being lost among the grunts and moans, and he is in no better of a condition. His hand launches up to your shoulder as he exclaims, "Fuck, Sunshine, I'm gonna cum!" You bite into his neck, sure to leave a bruise as he cries out in moans and whimpers, his cum launching out in large spurts onto his hoodie as he finally finishes. "Sebastian… cumming…" you barely manage to get out, before unloading into his asshole, your cock slowly softening as you pump rope after rope into his ass.

It's funny, really. How all this ended up happening. How your blonde haired little “golden retriever” boyfriend ended up with his lips around your cock, a collar around his neck, moaning and whimpering as he bobbed, drool and spit slathered across his mouth.

It started with that innocuous little title… “golden retriever”.

Sam always giggled at the mention of it. He liked it, obviously, and it fit. He was always so energetic, playful, and nice.

And then, one night, during a jam session with his friends, you called him a good boy just to tease him.

He took it with stride, honestly. You'd expected him to crawl up in a blushing, giggling, little mess right on his bedroom floor but he laughed it off, a small blush running along his cute face. Afterwards, though?

He'd made an effort to show you just how much he loved the name.

So, it became an ongoing thing. Whenever you and him needed a signal to… get going and have your own little party, it'd be brought up.

Then, earlier tonight, you'd found a little secret he'd been hiding away in the closet. A black leather collar, with gold clasps and metal and such, complete with a leash.

And that's how he ended up on his knees at the foot of the bed, going down on you harder and faster than he ever had before, aided by your hand in his silky blonde hair and the leash wrapped around your other, pulling him down onto your cock.

“Such a good pup, baby. You've always wanted this, haven't you? To be my good little puppy?” You said it with that domineering, almost condescending tone reserved for moments of utter domination like this. And God, the way he whimpered as he slobbered all over your shaft. A sure, sloppy sign of affirmation.

This was always what he wanted, even if he didn't know it at the time.

Sam gagged on you, hard, his throat tightening around you as you moaned out into the air. “Good pet. Such a good puppy.” Your voice was wavering under the pleasure he was giving you. Yoba, his mouth felt amazing. His tongue was flat on the underside of your shaft, practically hugging you as he looked up with that half-lidded cock-drunk look in his eye.

He was trying so hard to please you, and it was paying off. “Gonna cum down your throat, pup. Fuck, you’re so good for me…” Your voice trailed off into moans and gasps, as you gripped his hair a little tighter, pulled the leash a little bit harder, and thrust your hips against his face a little faster.

Sam’s tongue felt amazing on your cock, and it was hard to get enough. You could barely think, your mind blurring into a haze as the hand in his hair started to push him down against your crotch. You were practically fucking his face now, if you weren’t before. “Be good for me and swallow it all, okay? Be good for me. So good…” You were leaning over him now, bucking your hips against his face, wild grunts and groans escaping your throat. You could hear the way his hands pumped around his own length, slick with precum and anticipation.

His moans were what really drove you over the edge. The way his tongue and mouth vibrated, deep and guttural around your dick as he voiced his own pleasure had your skin running wild. You couldn’t hold it anymore, your body shaking as you pulled the leash taut, choking him further as you forced him, albeit very willingly, to deepthroat you. What felt like gallons of strings of thick, sticky, hot cum spilled down his throat, as he spurted his own seed onto the floor. You held him there for a good couple seconds, letting him swallow, feeling those last little bits of undulation and pleasure you can get him to muster, before finally letting the leash go slack.

Sam pulls his mouth off you, coughing a little and sputtering as he recollects himself, leaning his head against your thigh. In between small coughing fits and catching his breath, he looks up at you. “Did… Did I do good?” You nod, hand gently carding through his hair, your dick softening as you rest back on your elbows. “Yeah. You were amazing for me, Sam. Perfect, even.”

You used what grip you had left on the leash to make him stand up, pulling him onto your lap. You slide your hand up to his neck, gently stroking the black leather of the collar. You let a finger slide into the ring on the front, pulling him closer as you unclipped the leash. “Wait, do you really wanna kiss me after I just-” You laughed, bringing your lips to rest just in front of his. “Sam, I do not give a fuck. Let me kiss you.” He smiled, that sort of gentle and genuine smile that brightens your day, and lets you pull him into it.

The kiss itself is gentle, passionate, short, and loving. He sits on your lap, gently moving as you place a hand behind his head and stroke his hair. As your lips finally part, he looks at you with an adorable smile. Your look, however, is of mischief. “Now… you’re gonna go clean your cum off the floor, and I’ll go get a bath ready.” He groans a little before stepping off your lap, still entirely naked, and grabs a towel.

A rush of warm air quickly runs across your skin as you step into your house, a shiver running through your body as you lean against the front door. Your body is exhausted from your usual foray into the mines, that ever descending labyrinth of precious ore and dangerous monsters. But it was worth it. Oh, so worth it. You drop your bag to the floor, knees aching as you kneel next to it and open it, the majority of it filled with ore, medical supplies, and coal. But, as you dig through the bag, you finally feel the soft, smooth surface of that perfectly formed gem. Despite the conditions of its storage, unprotected from the raw ore, it's still just as smooth as when you pulled it out of the rock. Never once had you seen a frozen tear with a scratch on it, even in the most dire of circumstances. A perfect gift for the love of your life… in the morning. It was far too late to wake him up for this, even if he liked the gift. So, you picked up the bag one last time, and finally went to your bedroom.

Sebastian was already asleep in bed. He looked so peaceful and sweet, his face relaxed, and a tiny smile on his face. Slow and quiet, you put the heavy bag down near the chest at the foot of your bed. You prepare for bed quickly, stripping off your clothes with an unneeded speed. As you get into bed, you're only wearing your undies and a smile. You lay next to him, the weariness and exhaustion running through your body as you finally rest, but you aren't quite ready to fall asleep. You scooted closer to Sebastian, getting as close to spooning him as you can, trying not to wake him. You want to sleep, but you want to feel his body close to yours far more. An arm is wrapped around his waist as you plant your head in the crook of his neck, a small smile crawling across your face as you feel the warmth of his body against yours.

You were clingy tonight, that much was clear. Throughout your attempts to sleep for the past half hour, you'd practically crawled all over Sebastian. At this point you were starting to suspect that he was still awake with the ease with which you were able to switch cuddling positions. Eventually, you had ended up with your hand under his shirt, feeling his soft, lean stomach and your legs tied around his. This position is so close and intimate that your thoughts start to wander… you can't help but think about his cute face and his tight waist. Eventually the thoughts wander to his nice ass, your body pressed up against it, your tangled legs leaving little else to go. Your cock is starting to press against his boxers, your face heating up as you try your hardest to keep it away from his ass. You don't want to wake him up, and you sure as hell aren't going to do anything to him while he's asleep.

You desperately try to gather up all of your willpower to push the horny aside and sleep. For Yoba's sake, you needed it after the harshness of the mines. But Sebastian was just so… enticing, all of the time, and he knew it. Which is why when you tried to scoot back away from him to make some space and relieve the pressure on your imprisoned cock, he moved with you. He trapped your body against his, grabbing the arm that had been around his waist and keeping it close. "You're not going anywhere, pervy." You shivered, letting out a small moan as he continued to grind his ass against you. Through the small shots of pleasure running through your cock, you manage to whimper out a stifled selection of words. "How long have you been awake?" At that, he chuckles lightly, before bending back and putting his lips to your ear. "Long enough to know that you're pent up and just can't help yourself, love." He kisses the tip of your ear, before whispering, over and over, sweet nothings. Dirty things about how much he wants you, and yet, loving things too. Expressions of affection and gratitude interlaced with confessions about just how much he wants you.

Your willpower shatters underneath his continued teasing and flirting, quickly giving in and peppering him with kisses. From his neck to his jaw, to his cheek, and down to his back, no spot that can comfortably be reached is safe. But it's not enough. For either of you. He's borderline leaking through his boxers, a large wet patch at his front. Despite your flustered, whimpering state, you finally manage to gather your courage and take the initiative. You flip him from his side to his stomach, as you move to settle yourself behind him, upright. He's face down, ass up in front of you, boxers just waiting to be slipped off as you take in the sight. Sebastian looks so delicious, his back arched, butt up in the air as he looks back at you. "Is this okay?" You ask, your hand rubbing his back as he settles into his position. He pushes back against you, looks you in the eyes, and nods. "Go ahead, baby. Fuck me."

You waste no time, quickly moving up his back and to his waistband. You pull his boxers down his legs and to his knees, not even bothering to pull them off all the way before going for your own. In your position, it's easier to take your boxers off and fling them into some unknown corner of the room. Honestly, you didn't care. You were far more focused on dipping your middle finger between his folds, stroking his sex and preparing him for your cock. Sebastian whimpers under your touch, his hands grasping the sheets tightly. "So sensitive, huh, Sebby? So good for me." He moans as you push your finger knuckle deep inside. He squirms under your touch, his hips moving back on your finger, trying desperately to take more of what isn't there. "Please, baby," he pleads, "put another finger in me!" Decoding not to tease him much further, you dip your index finger inside of him as well. You fuck him on your fingers as he moves his hips, soft moaning and whining being his only form of communication. "You take my fingers so well, Sebby… I love seeing you like this." You can tell however, by the growing volume and frequency of his moans, that he's getting close to cumming all over your fingers. But, you want to make him cum and spasm all over your cock, so you quickly pull your fingers out of his hole, denying him his orgasm.

Sebastian whines, looking back at you from the pillow as he glares at you. "Don't worry, Sebby. You'll get your release." You settle in behind him once more, grabbing your sensitive cock and pressing it against his folds. You rub it against his hole, teasing him as you lube up your own cock with his juices. He squirms underneath you as your shaft rubs against his nub, a small shiver running through his body. Sebastian gives you a pleading, begging look as he wiggles his ass. "Stop teasing me baby, please." You laugh, kneading his ass as you steady yourself against him. "Alright, Sebby. I'll give you what you need."

Finally, you push into Sebastian, your cock being surrounded by his tight, warm walls. He moans your name, desperately trying to push back against you as you hold his hips in place. You lean over him, placing your hand next to his head as you push into him with long, slow strokes. You start to pull his hips into you in time with your movements, the sounds of the small clapping of your hips against his fill the room, along with his steadily rising moans. You try your best to keep your composure, but his body is an insurmountable force. Your moans combine with his to fill the room, and you can't contain yourself from running kisses along his back. The physical feeling of his body against yours is only surpassed by the emotional feeling, the love in your heart spilling out into your words. Moans interlaced with praise and affirmations, true love spilling out in an almost divine show. "L-love you, Sebastian… so much." His hand grabs the wrist next to his head as a smile runs across his face.

You start to move faster, your movements more primal in nature as the pleasure takes hold of you. You gently bite his shoulder as you push deeper and faster into him, a grunt escaping his throat as you pump into him harder and harder. You feel him spasm and shiver around your grasp, his walls constricting around you as he cums around you. Sebastian whines softly into the pillow as you start to chase your own pleasure, his hand still tight around your wrist. You could fuck him into this bed all day and all night, but your body has limits that it's quickly approaching, limits that you're pushing in every stroke and every groan and every thrust. All good things must come to an end, however, and as he comes down from his orgasm, you go up into yours. You collapse into him as you cum, filling him up with your load as you moan out your gratitude and love for him. Your orgasm lasts a while, your cock throbbing and pumping rope after rope inside of him. Finally, your orgasm subsides, still collapsed against his back, your cock going flaccid inside of him. In one last act, with the last amount of energy you have, you fall to the side onto your side of the bed, pulling him down with you.

You spoon him as you both calm down from a most pleasurable evening, your hands wrapping around his stomach as he lands facing away from you. Sebastian turns around in your arms, however, and places his hands on your cheeks. "I love you. I love you so much." He quickly closes the space between you, holding you close as your lips lock, and your bodies wrap around one another. Every little inch of space is filled in as he kisses you, love permeating your body as you hold your beloved in your arms.