wotanon | Dreamers After Dark (VII)

Then I think I will. Face buried in the mattress, legs spread, hands pinned on your back, my cock pounding you hard that not even the bed could muffle you. [He nips sharply at a new spot.] Your cock leaking pre as the cock ring holds you tight. My pheromones in the air. [He sucks hard on the new spot.]

I think I'd start it when I started to push into you. So you could feel it take hold as I fill you. Start slow and gentle, until you're begging me to fuck out your brains. [He nuzzles the bruises with affection.]

[He watches Hurricane bite diwn on his hand and he hums, licking once along the length of him, slow and careful.] I'm not gonna suck you off unless you're talking. Otherwise, I can just do this. [Another long, slow lick along the shaft.

[Hurricane whines, long and low, as Rye lays out what's going to happen - the position, and the pinned hands, and the cock ring, and the pheromones. His cock jerks, hard, at the combination of the words and the suction against his thigh, sharp and intense and good, and not at all what he needs]

[He whines again, softly, as Rye lays out the possibility that he'll let the pheromones kick in as he starts - that they'll gradually build, even as Rye fucks him. A new drop of precome wells up and then spills, cock twitching in anticipation]

[When Rye gives another teasing lick, he groans - can't help but try to press up off the mattress and into the heat of Rye's tongue, back arching hard]

[He flushes darker still - takes his hand away from his mouth, shaky and reluctant. The words spill out immediately, like that was all that had been keeping them at bay:]

Don't - I need - I need more than that. Jesus, please, suck me off already, take me - take me in your mouth, I wanna - I wanna go deep, I want your tongue, I want you to suck me so bad -

[Rye grins as Hurricane talks, his free hand moving down to pump himself a few times with a low groan. His own cock is hard, pre trailing down, watching and listening to Hurricane get overwhelmed.] That's my good pet. Gods, I can't tell you how ready I am to be inside you. But first...

[He lifts up his hand, licking off the pre, before settling it on Hurricane's thigh, thumb rubbing a circle over a mark.] Keep talking. I'll accept being unable to form words from pleasure, but if you try to stop yourself on purpose, I stop sucking.

[His grip tightens on his thigh and his mouth returns to his cock. Taking the head, then moving down, down, taking his length at a steady pace until he's at his throat.]

[Then further, taking him in deeper still, until his lips are at the base, swallowing around his head with a muffled groan.]

[His eyes flicker out and away, toward Rye's hand and the sight of it on his cock, stroking slowly. He groans at the visual - squirms, hips working helplessly against the hold. His own cock, curved hard and red against his stomach, gives another long twitch, a new drop of precome trailing down the length of it]

I - jesus, yes, I want you to fuck me. I want you to - to put it in, I want your fingers deeper, I - god, suck me, take me in your mouth, I won't stop talking, just, jesus, suck me off, please.

[The words stutter to a stop for a moment as Rye finally takes his cock into his mouth, a long, wavering moan shuddering out of him. His hips press upward, working helplessly against Rye's hold]

O-oh my god, that's - just like that, that feels so good. H-holy crap, your mouth is so good, your tongue's so hot, and w-wet, and - [His voice breaks, when Rye swallows, hips flexing sharply as he attempts to buck up into it] Jesus, yes, that - do that again, that feels amazing, keep - keep going -

[Rye's hand grips his thigh tight, keeping him pinned down for nowvas he takes him deeper. His cock is hard against his stomach, pre trailing down the length to his thigh as Hurricane talks, as he feels the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his mouth. The words pool inside him, hearing Hurricane wrecked, hearing what he wants.]

[His fingers are still shallow, as he moves his head. Only a few inches, getting used to Hurricane entering hus throat, sucking lightly, swallowing around the head with soft groan.]

[Until finally, he moves his hand off his thigh, moving down to take his cock, and begin stroking himself at a sedate pace. He looks up at Hurricane, his cock just outside Rye's throat. He holds his head still. His fingers, however, sharply thrust in deep against that spot and begins to do so repeatedly.]

[He whines and shivers as Rye works him deeper, hips flexing against the hold, squirming to try and move, to press further into the incredible wet heat]

Ah, god, yeah, that's - that's perfect, that feels - that feels so good. Your mouth is so hot, I just - g-god, I need more, I need you to suck me off, I need -

[The words taper off as Rye takes him deeper in; he whines, softly, at the light suction and the feel of Rye's throat working as he swallows]

Jesus, that's good. That's - every time you do that it feels like I'm about to lose it. S'just - this ripple, and g-god, your mouth oughtta be illegal, it feels too good, it -

[That's about as far as he gets, before Rye's fingers find that spot inside him. His words cut off with a startled cry of pleasure; his hips, no longer held in place by Rye's grip, jackknife up off the mattress, pressing him forward the rest of the way into Rye's throat. He rocks in time with the thrusts of Rye's fingers, grinding back against the pressure agaisnt that spot inside him, pressing up ito the soft wet heat of Rye's mouth]

O-oh my god, that's - y-yeah, there, touch me there. It feels so good - just like that, keep going, please, god -

[Rye is always surprised how good it feels, letting Hurricne thrust into his mouth, letting him freely move into his throat, and there's a loud, muffled groan the first time he does. Its hard, a bit painful, but the stretch, the heat, it makes his toes curl, and his own cock ache. And with Hurrucane talking, rambling about how good it feels....]

[It just makes him feel hotter.]

[He keeps up the attention. He sucks Hurricane's cock lightly, best he can without hindering his movements, but largely holds his head still, letting Hurricane move how he wishes, only really pressing in as he thrusts up, and swallowing around the head eagerly. Movement he encourages all the while, fingers thrusting in hard, aiming to slam into that spot all the while. Not every time, but he gets it most of the time.]

[His other hand is still working his cock as he does so, adding moans into the mix, a vibration to the sucks and swallows. Letting himself give into heat and need as he deep throats the other.]

[Hurricane moans, long and low, the first time Rye swallows around him; gasps, and shudders, and presses up into that glorious wet heat]

O-oh my god, dude. Your mouth is so good. Your throat feels - feels amazing. G-god, I'm gonna keep waking up hard from dreaming about this.

[He's been watching the level of his voice for most of this, too embarrassed by the presence of the audience; but now, for the first time, he's starting to creep a little louder, too lost in pleasure to mind his own volume]

[One of his hands has crept back to his nipples, rubbing at the hard nub restlessly; the other settles shakily in Rye's hair, holding on as though he needs it to ground himself]

G-god - right there, go harder, your fingers are so thick. I want - want you in me, want you to - to plow me into the bed, aah, jesus -

[It's probably not hard to recognize Hurricane's tells by now; his hips are working feverishly, pressing him up into the wet heat of Rye's mouth and down against those thrusting fingers. His thighs are drawn up tight and trembling, toes curling against the covers of the bed]

Edited 2021-02-14 18:55 (UTC)

[At the thought of Hurricane dreaming of this, at Hurricane getting louder, knowing he's getting that into it, Rye just groans louder around him, sucking a bit harder. He looks up with dark, hungry eyes, watching him play with his own nipples, and he just grips his own cock harder, pumping it hard enough to be audible.]

[As Hurricane talks, as they move, Rye's own sounds get louder. Muffled with the weight of Hurricane's cock pressing in deep, but there's the vibrations added. Rye is moving his head with those thrusts, matching Hurricane's pace to press him in faster. Sucking on his cock eagerly, and swallowing with every push into his throat.]

[His fingers don't relent, only get more determined as Hurricane tenses, curls up. His thrusts get shorter, no longer pulling out anymore than an inch or two, so he can keep thrusting hard and fast against that spot, to hit it every time.]

[The words are breathless, now, rushed - strung together like he can't get them out fast enough]

God, yes, there, right there, it's - christ, your mouth is so hot, your - your throat is so good, I -

[The words give way to a heartfelt groan; Hurricane's back bows up off the mattress, driving him as deep as he can go. Every part of him goes still and tense; his eyes flutter closed, and his mouth falls open]

[And... nothing happens. His cock twitches hard, buried in the wet heat of Rye's mouth, but nothing leaves it except a new blurt of precome]

[The moan tapers off into a long, wavering whine of frustration, and Hurricane's hips begin to move again, shaky and arhythmic]

Keep - keep going. I'm so close, I -

T-touch me more, I'm almost -

[Rye waits for it, waits for the orgasm he's sure is coming, eyes lidded as he watches Hurricane arch and moan, feels him thrust into his throat.]

[His hand has to pull away from his cock, getting too close to coming to risk it, intent on Hurricane's satisfaction-]

[And he doesn't come. A new dollop of pre, but even as he thrusts, it doesn't come.]

[The audience...? Then he just needs more. His hand reaches up for Hurricane's, tightening his grip, moaning encouragingly. Then his hand moves up to a nipple, starting to pinch and twist it hard. He presses his fingers in and this time, there's no thrusting, just a rough massage against the bundle of nerves.]

[He sucks harder on his cock, swallowing the head constantly, threatening to choke himself as he bobs his head.]

[The whine amps up a notch, as Rye's fingers find that bundle of nerves and begin to rub, constant pressure and motion that feels like lightning shooting straight up his spine. As the suction increases to match and Rye begins to twist and pinch at his nipple, his head falls back and his eyes squeeze closed; his feet plant on the mattress for better leverage, trying to press in deeper]

[His voice still has that frantic quality to it, like he can't quite get the words out fast enough, breathless and reedy:]

God, yes, that - yes, that's - f-feels so good, that spot is - a-aah, and your throat - I'm almost -

[His own hand comes to the other nipple, pinching and tugging, like he needs the added stimulation desperately. Every part of him is drawn up tight and shaking, and buried in Rye's mouth, Hurricane's cock gives another long twitch, leaking another sizeable dollop of precome]

Rye - o-oh my god, please -

[He should be coming. Rye knows his tells, how he tenses and winds up, how he does. Hard to forget when the sight always makes heat pool inside him, makes his cock ache for more. Makes him want to flip Hurricane over and just take him.]

[Except he's still not coming and he suspects why, but he's ready to test it once more. The hand on his nipple goes to cover Hurricane's and forces him to pinch his nipple harder. His hand then moves back to the other, twisting and pinching it, hard, as hard as he knows Hurricane can take.]

[He changes the angle of his hand, thrusting fingers just a bit deeper, pressed harder against that spot, rubbing hard and fast. He pulls back his head, taking Hurricane out if his mouth.]

[But its just to take a deep breath before he takes him in again, and diesn't hesitate to deep tgriat him, lips kissing his pelvis. And he stays there, Hurricane fully buried, and swallows repeatedly, tongue running on the underside, determined to stay like that as long as his air holds out.]

[The words grow more urgent, amping up in pitch and desperation, interspersed with a frantic sort of keening; Hurricane shakes, the lithe lines of his body drawn up taut like a bowstring about to snap]

Rye - ah, jesus, that's - please, there, nnnn, god - !

[The stream of endless pleas and encouragement falters, when Rye shifts his fingers to work against that spot inside harder still. Hurricane's mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, his own hand keeping the pressure Rye set against his nipple, pinching and twisting like if he only tugs hard enough, it will be enough to get him off]

[When Rye pulls back all the way, Hurricane's cock twitches and throbs, new precome slicking the shaft]

Wait - wait, wait, don't stop - don't stop, I gotta -

[And then Rye's taking him in again, and Hurricane makes a sound that's pure need]

[His hips have fallen out of rhythm again - shallow, jerky motions that falter to a stop as everything draws up tight and trembling, cock pulsing hard against Rye's tongue. The words are frantic, this time, almost incoherent]

Please - ahh, almost - please, please - just - just a little more -

[And still he doesn't come]

Edited 2021-02-17 17:05 (UTC)

[Rye certaintly tries. Hurricane is such a sight, pleading so desperately, such a pretty, intoxicating sound, squirming and jerking desperately, tormenting his own nipple, his body so tight around his fingers, precum down his throat. Its so much and he wants to see Hurricane snap.]

[So he tries, his fingers keeping up their rough treatment of that spot and his nipple, all while keeping his cock in his throat. He doesn't pull back an inch, sucking as hard as he can, throat convulsing around his head, swallowing down pre like water and he's a man in a desert. He keeps up the attention as long as he can without getting a breath.]

[He manages a whole minute and a half before he finally has to pull back with a gasp and a cough, finally letting go of his nipple and pulling out his fingers.]

[He takes a chance to breathe as he waits for Hurricane's reaction he knows is coming, only speaking when he seems somewhat aware.]

Wasn't a dud.

Edited 2021-02-18 11:34 (UTC)

[It's incredible; it somehow isn't enough. Every wet motion from Rye's throat or press of Rye's fingers make him sure - sure - that all he needs is one tiny touch to push him over the edge. His words grow increasingly disjointed: desperate pleas, and Rye's name on trembling lips, and how good it feels, and how he needs just a little bit more]

[When Rye pulls back, he groans like he's dying - shudders up toward him, hips coming up off the bed, trying to get his mouth back, or those fingers, or something - anything, to tip him over the edge]

Aah, jesus, n-no, don't - don't stop. I'm so close, I just - just need -

[Then Rye speaks, and Hurricane's eyes flicker up toward his face. His eyes go wide as realization dawns, and desperation with it. His cock twitches hard, a new drop of precome sliding down the slick length of it]

That - o-oh my god, it's - I can't, it's gonna make me crazy. I g-gotta - jesus, even the thought makes me wanna - I - I'm right there -

[He's reaching for his cock, then, not even the audience enough to keep him from trying to finish himself off. He takes hold and begins to stroke like he's dying for it, the whine that leaves him as soon as he takes hold some mix of relief and frustration]

Edited 2021-02-18 17:12 (UTC)

[Rye doesn't even try to stop him. Instead he watches Hurricane try to jerk himself off, reaching over for water on the night stand, so helpfully provided by the runners to help the players keep going. He drinks it, its almost definitely spiked, but he needs a drink after the treatment of his throat.]

[He drinks the whole thing. Not a desperate chug though, giving Hurricane plenty of time to try and climax, and him watching the sight all the while. He finishes the bottle, sets it aside, and picks up a new vial, setting it down in easy reach.]

Looks like we won't need the cock ring. I wonder if you cum when you kiss me. Or maybe its something else? Because I've kissed you, and I still want to put on a show, let people see when I fuck you. [He reaches over, gently cupping Hurricane's cheek, not impeding his own touch at all.] Don't know if you've noticed, but you're not the only one jerking iff.

[Indeed he's not. The shapes of their audience is still vague and indinsct, but it hard to mistake the way arms are moving.]

But I made a promise. I did what I could to suck you off. [His hands trail down his body, slow and gentle. Then grab his wrists in a firm grip.] We don't need the ring. So its time to fuck you into the mattress. [And then he pushes him hard to flip him on the bed, to his knees.]

[Hurricane works himself hard, hand moving over his cock like he needs the touch desperately. The sound it makes as he tugs, increasingly urgent, is wet and fleshy, the motion slicked by the precome that trickles down from the head in lazy trails]

A-ahh, god. It feels - feels so good. I need - just a little more. I'm - I'm right there -

[On every upstroke, he catches at that spot beneath the tip with his thumb; he shudders up into it, biting hard at his bottom lip, quite unable to muffle the soft whine. It isn't long before he's drawn up tight and shaking, again - whimpers, and gasps, the motion of his hips stuttering to a stop]

Please - Please please please -

[Just like before, nothing happens]

[The whine he makes then is almost plaintive; his hand redoubles its efforts, working him harder still]

[And that's about when Rye mentions that the audience is getting off on this]

[His cheeks flush dark, and his hand stutters and slows. He can't quite bear to pull it away, despite the sharp thrill of humiliation - can't quite manage to stop himself from touching]

[The dilemma doesn't last for long, though, because Rye's flipping him over on the bed, so that he's even more on display. The covers hide his blush, but they do nothing to hide the way his cock twitches - the way he struggles against Rye's hold to try and resume jerking off. The words, when they come, are muffled by the mattress:]

Oh, jesus, that - yes, god, put it in already, I need - need you in me. Touch me, fill me up, let me - let me jerk off, god, I need it so bad -

Hmm, gods, I love seeing you like this. [He uses his strength to move Hurricane towards the center of the bed, letting him feel how easily he can lift him, even with the metal leg. Keeps his face down, but ass high in the air, a display. His hands trail over his cheeks, down to his legs, spreading them more, make to harder to hide hus cock.] So ready to be filled and used. So eager. [He grabs the lube, spreading some over his cock with a groan.]

I know I said I'd hold your hands behind your back, but.... [He takes his wrists in hand, one going behind his back, the other guided down to his cock, though just out of range.] You put on such a pretty display right now, fucking your hand so desperately. And you get so tight when you're on the edge of coming.

I don't think you're gonna so easy. And you feel amazing when you're at the edge. Really, letting you try so desperately, it just makes you a better fucktoy for me. [He then wraps Hurricane's fingers around hus own cock.] So you get one hand, pet. Try your best to come because I'm gonna keep to my plan now.

[His hand lets go and goes to his own cock, guiding it to Hurricane's hole.] Its going to get a lot morr for you pet. [And he starts pushing in, not terribly slow, but still at a gentle pace, a soft moan leaving him. As well as the pheromones, to invoke a maddening desire in Hurricane combined with his state at the moment.]

[Hurricane flushes a darker red, at being called out for being so ready to be filled - for being so eager. Because he really, really is. He's aching for it, even before the pheromones, hands fighting to break Rye's hold right up until Rye relents and closes Hurricane's fingers around his own cock]

[He shudders into his own touch, hips bucking forward - whines, long and low, as his hand begins to stroke. They're firm strokes, steady, the kind designed to get someone off fast]

O-oh, jesus. Yes, yeah, that - do it, put it in me, I'll - I'll make it good for you. I'll keep trying, I'll - I'll make myself real tight for you. I wanna - wanna keep trying. I'm so close I can taste it, jesus, please, put it in -

[And then Rye's pushing in, gentle, and he moans in relief, spreading his legs a little wider, wordlessly begging for more. He's not on the edge again just yet, thanks to the brief break, but he shakes and trembles with every stroke of his own hand - with the sensation of being filled]

[It's obvious, as soon as the pheromones kick in. He goes very still, breath catching in his throat, and the whine that leaves him is high and urgent]

That's - o-oh my god. I can f-feel it. You - you turned em on. You - g-god, it's - I want it, please, I - I need m-more.

[His hand works feverishly; his fingers smear a fresh trail of precome along the length of his erection, leave it slick and red and straining. The motion of his hips stutters for an instant, and he breaks the rhythm, too intent on getting Rye the rest of the way inside him to match the pace of his own hand just now]

P-please, I need you deeper. Keep - keep going, please, it feels - I need it so bad -

Edited 2021-02-20 18:59 (UTC)

[Rye moans loudly as he pushes in, body shuddering at just how tight he feels, so worked up. He keeps the pace gentle, even as Hurricane's hips work deperately against him for more.] Gods, your body feels so good. Like you were made to be fucked. I love being inside you, you always hug my cock so nicely. Like the perfect fucktoy.

[His hand keeps a grip on his other hand, still pinned to his back, the other holding his hips now, forcing him to move at his pace.]

I bet you feel it. I didn't hold back this time. I don't think you could even try to offer taking care of yourself alone. It just wouldn't feel anywhere near as satisfying as me taking you. Using you. Touching you.

[He buries himself to the hilt, keeps the grip on his hips tight to force him still.] Bet you wish it was my hand touching you. Pumping your aching cock. But my hands are busy, so you need to. Keep trying to get yourself off, keep yourself right at that edge, pet. It makes you so amazing to use.

[Then his hips finally pull back, before quickly snapping forward. Once, twice, three times as Rye starts up a hard, rough pace.]

[Hurricane whines, long and wavering, as Rye holds his hip, forcing him to slow. He starts to squirm against the grip immediately, the pheromones making it an imperative instead of a want, demanding something he can't provide. He needs, and it's buried under his skin like an itch he can't scratch, though the hand on his cock is doing its best to grant relief, tugging more urgently as the waves of heat begin to rise]

Nnn - I can't - c-can't take care of it myself. I need you, I need - need you in me, need you f-filling me up, it feels - g-god, it feels so good.

[Then Rye is pressing himself all the way in, and for an instant, it brings a sort of primal satisfaction - right up until Hurricane realizes he's stopped moving]

[He whimpers, softly - struggles to roll his hips against the awful stillnesss, the maddening tease of being so full but it just not being enough. His hand is still trying, the motions almost desperate now, but somehow that's not enough, either, not when it could be Rye's hand instead]

O-oh, jesus, please - what're you - what're you waiting for - fuck me, god, t-touch me, rub me off, why ain't you moving - ? I need more, I need m-more, god, please -

[And then finally - finally - Rye begins to move]

[Hurricane shudders, hard, at the rougher pace; his hips work to meet the thrusts as they come, wordlessly begging for more. The sound of his hand on his own cock is wet and distinct; on the bed beneath them, the precome has begun to create a damp patch on the covers]

[It isn't long before he's drawn up tight and trembling again, thighs tense and toes curling]

O-oh my god, please - please - I'm so close -

Edited 2021-02-24 17:26 (UTC)

[He loves this. He loves driving Hurrucane absolutely insane, pushing him to the edge, and keeping him there. The way he falls apart, but remains so very wound up, the way he loses himsrlf in the feeling. How much trusts in puts in him to make sure at the end of it, Rye is going to take care of him. No matter how much he pushes now.]

Fuck, you are so wonderful, Hurricane. Don't know how I resist you when you're so hot. When you let me push you so far. How much you love this. [He leans down, nipping at his shoulder.] Don't worry though. Others are pumping their cocks almost as desperately as you. [Because he wants to know what the reminder of the audience does when he's inside Hurricane.] Touching themselves, watching you touch yourself. Watching as you beg to be taken.

[He straightens up, grip tightening on his grips, pressing to the hilt with each thrust, adjusting as he looks for that spot, even as the other gets tighter around him, moans spilling past his lips as he keeps moving.] Don't worry. Gonna keep you. To myself for the next hour. You're gonna make the bed a mess. And. I'm gonna make you a mess. Fuck, you're so tight. You feel so good.

[His grip shifts on Hurricane's arm, pulling it straight and to the side, using it as more leverage to pound into the others body.]

[Hurricane makes a soft keening sort of noise, as Rye reminds him of the audience - that they're watching as he falls apart, as he begs, as he works his own cock like he's dying for it. He clenches hard around Rye; his hand stutters to a stop, as though he means to try and tone it down, humiliation rushing through him hot and sudden]

[But he can't - he can't - and it's all of three seconds before he whimpers and has to pick up the pace again, needing it too badly to hold off. The begging, though - that, at least, he can tamp down on, and he turns his face in toward the covers, biting down to stop the words coming out of his own mouth]

[It can't stop the noises, though; he's making needy, punched-out little sounds every time Rye presses forward. His hips are starting to fall out of rhythm, the way they do when he's about to come]

[He goes still and shuddering; his eyes squeeze shut. He whines, high and pleading, teetering on the knife's edge of orgasm, clenching down hard - and still he doesn't come]

Edited 2021-02-24 20:25 (UTC)

[There's a sharp gasp, a punched out groan as Hurricane gets tight around him, even as his pace falters with his hand. His own, however, doesn't in the least. If anything he's thrusting faster, the sound of skin against skin loud and obvious, his moans loud as he presses into the tight heat.]

Don't stop now, pet. I know you need it, want it. Keep touching yourself. Makes. Makes it so easy to rail you. Fuck you into this bed. Gods, you're so hot. Gonna. Gonna cum so hard.

[Then he's even tighter and the sound Rye makes is a cross between desoeration and mind blowing pleasure.] Fuck, you-amazing, so amazing-so good-keep going-k-keep trying to-gods, yes! [He presses Hurricane's hand to the bed, pressing himself partially to Hurricane's back to thrust down, hard, fast, a brutal pace as he rapidly approaches his climax.]

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