Extreme Thirst Zone

You scoff. “Can never give me a straight answer, can you?”

You reach over to the bedside table and grab the lube.

Cecil follows the movement. He lets out a stuttered sigh.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

He tries to be nonchalant, his typical detached self but his facade is crumbling by the second - his cock is hard, dripping onto his abdomen as his chest rises and falls like a machine, and his eyes are glazed with more desire than he would ever admit to you or himself.

You lather a generous amount of lube all over your length, ensuring every inch is covered - you don’t want Cecil to be any more uncomfortable than he already is, or will be.

“I’m not getting any younger down here.” Cecil states dryly with a bored expression on his face. Always so impatient.

“Yes, I see that.”

A chuckle escapes you at Cecil’s scowl. You can’t help yourself - he needs to relax, loosen up, deflate to release that pent up stress he carries around with him everywhere he goes and if teasing him a little is the way to do this, then so be it.

You press a kiss to his cheek. “Just relax, okay? I won’t hurt you.”

Cecil taking a deep breath and releasing. He nods.

Your cock-head catches on Cecil’s eased, soft hole, causing his breath to hitch. His hand grasps at your shoulder.

“Fuck. Just hurry up already.”

Getting him to beg isn’t so hard. Cecil is far more submissive than he lets on and his outward personality does not fool you one bit. Especially not now.

“No, no. It’s better this way.” You tell him, eyes attached to where you’re both touching. Your hand circles your length, running the flesh up and down Cecil’s perineum. He shivers.

“You better-“”

He cuts himself off with a sharp gasp. Or rather you cut him off with your dick as you languidly ease yourself into him, eyes rolling briefly as you feel his heat hugging you, latching onto you with desperate intent.

Cecil’s eyes squeeze shut, his hands now gripping the sheets while you sink into him and pry him open mercilessly, stretching him to the brim. His teeth are close to making his bottom lip bleed. A breath he didn’t realise he was holding burst out of him.

“You’re…you’re fucking bigger than you look.”

You laugh, shortly because you choke when Cecil shifts, involuntary clenching around you as he did. A ghost of a smile graces Cecil’s lips.

Leaning over him, you take in his flushed face, his near-white eyelashes, the lines contouring his face, the loose, marred skin decorated the side of his face. You truly think Cecil does not understand the effect he has on you.

“Are you okay?”

Cecil grunts. He sounds like he’s annoyed.

“Yes..Yes. Now move. Slowly.”

You don’t have to be told twice.

You pull back, pulling all the way out to the tip, then reel yourself back into his magnetic heat, soft, slow like he demanded. He moans in his throat, bobbing as he does so.

It’s clear to you that he’s attempting to smother his sounds of pleasure - the lip bites, the jaw clenches and the gaping mouth. It’s like he wants to hide, seperate himself from you even as you commit the most intimate act upon him. You won’t let that happen.

You pull out, completely, and Cecil barely has time to think of phrasing the question before you spearing back into him, sharply, hips meeting his ass, but not rough. Still slow. Still gentle.

A gasp breezes out of his mouth, pleasure sparking through him, his eyes wide, becoming even wider when you grab his wrists, pinning them at either side of his head. He huffs and puffs, surprised, already half-gone and you’re nowhere near finished with him.

“Let me see you.”

His blush deepens and his glare only pinches you. If he really didn’t want this, he would make it well known to you.

“Insubordinate in bed too?” He comments as casually as he can manage. “Surprise, surprise.”

“And I didn’t know you were so pissy in the sheets as well as on the streets, Cece.”

You press your lips to his, catching his retort in your mouth and straightening out his glare in the midst of it and picking up your pace, just a bit, enough for the dull plap plap plap sounds to echo around the both of you. Small chants of breath leave him with each thrust you grant him, deep and steady. You feel him wrap his legs around your hips, drawing you in close like he wants you and him to become one.

You guess he doesn’t want to be separated from you now.

Cecil shoves your hands off him, freeing his wrist from the shackles of your nimble fingers before reaching up and yanking you down to him by tangling his hands in your hair.

He looks at you, staring into your eyes with that steel-gaze that makes you want to do anything he asks, anything he desires, anything he needs. You breaths meddle together in between the both of you, overrun with pleasure and want, tethering towards a climax.

“I’m not made of glass.” He says, huffing. “You think I can’t handle a bit of rough shit? I’ve had it harder than this.”

His egotistical spit is slightly dulled by the redness of his head and face, the faint wheeze in his chest and the quiver of his body, but you don’t let that stop you from giving him what he’s clearly asking for.

You waste no time yanking him by the thighs, pushing them up by his sides, straining them surely but if the audible whine that crawls out of his mouth and nails which dig into your biceps are anything to go by, then you don’t think Cecil minds so much.

Cecil’s writhing body bounces up and down on the bed, rattled by the ferocity of your thrusts. Curses fly out of his mouth and when he gasps, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, you know you’ve hit that spot that will have him spiralling.

“Fuck, fuck!” Cecil shouts, arching into you as you let go of one thigh to tweak at nipples, pert and hard, aching for attention.

His hand reaches down to his leaking, red cock, promptly circling it with his hand and tugging quickly. He throws his head back onto the pillow in ecstasy, adam’s apple bobbing and mouth drooling open as you lean all of your weight on him, your length probing at his prostate and that’s all it takes for him to cum, tumbling over the edge with a whiny groan - one so uncharacteristic of him yet so endearing and charming - that rings around the sex-dewed room. Short streaks of cum spurt across his stomach, melding into the weathered, stretched sculpture of his abdomen. His once pinched expression relaxes as he does, deflating in a face of pure pleasure and relief. He sinks into the mattress, head fuzzy as you continue to fuck him through his orgasm.

Cecil involuntarily pulls you closer with his unsoiled hand, breathing over your lips as he wrangles through his cataclysmic climax, toes curling and hips jerking into yours, seizing your dick around him like his yearning to drain your balls dry. He’d probably succeed with that goal.

“Don’t…don’t cum inside…fuck. I’m not in the mood for that mess.”

You press your wet foreheads together, groaning while your balls tighten, a knot drawn up so tight and taut just waiting to be unraveled. Your jaw clenches and you pull out of him swiftly, jerking yourself off until you’re spilling white ropes all over Cecil’s cock as well as his stomach and chest, making an artful mess of his body like a canvas. He yelps at your actions, unmoving and seemingly shocked at the load that keeps pumping out of you.

“Jesus.” Cecil curses, eyes white as he peers down at his torso, painted in splatters of sticky white cum. “Look at this mess…”

It is a mess - a mixture of both you and Cecil’s substance covering him almost comically, so much that he looks like he just walked out of a cheaply made porno shoot.

He’s never looked better.

“Ah. Sorry about that.” You say, not sounding very apologetic at all. You sit back on your heels, dragging the last drops of cum out of you, swabbing your cock over Cecil’s flaccid one, making him gasp. Damn, it was a lot.

“That’s enough.” Cecil sits up, wincing at the feeling of his now sodden torso and sensitive cock. “Get me some-“”

But you’re way ahead of him, already plucking wipes from your bedside table, cleaning up Cecil’s stained body and hands dutifully. You meet his eye, smiling. He looks away, grumbling, but the red of his ear tells all.

Once you are both mostly dry and unstained, you lie down next to each other, Cecil in your arms despite his waspish protests and you, resting your chin on top of his bald head, holding him warm and close while you both bask in the afterglow.

“Cecil.”

“What?”

“Did you enjoy it? The sex, I mean.”

He scoffs. He’s quiet for a moment before speaking up.

“…Yeah. It was good.”

You beam. That’s the best you’re going to get from him and Cecil’s approval and comfort is all you need right now. You kiss the top of his head.

“Cecil.”

“Yes?”

“I can see my reflection in your head-“”

“Don’t ruin the moment, kid.”

“It’s just so shiny.”

“Shut. Up.”

*