tensions | Prompt - Crane Wife (alternative sidestory)

He bobs his head slowly, up and down the shaft, moaning softly, as he feels just how much the width of it forces his throat open each time he swallows it down again with nose pressed against the coarse hair around the base. It's such a unique joy for him to be able to do this, to taste Justin all over his mouth, to inhale the musk of him.

But this isn't the only thing he wants tonight. So he pulls back, suddenly, a wet string of spit momentarily connecting his bottom lip to the swollen tip. It breaks when he says, "Don't come yet. I want you to do that inside me."

And with his eyes watching Justin's face the entire time, he sucks on three of his own fingers before reaching back between the cheeks of his ass to start pushing them into himself. His mouth meanwhile continues to slobber over Justin's cock, as if he were starved for it.

"Monty-" he gasps out. It feels so unexpected and unlooked-for, though he doesn't know why, exactly. After all, he had previous experience with Monty to draw from - he knew, quite intimately, that whatever else about the lifestyle had been forced on him, he did genuinely enjoy these acts, enjoyed the strain of taking something inside him, whether from his mouth or his ass. But feeling that enjoyment acted out upon him - even demanded of him - is somehow altogether different.

He strains to force his hips to still, to let Monty set the pace as he drools over Justin's cock, bobbing his head up and down, letting the muscles of his throat clench around the hard length before pulling back and gasping for air. It's wet and messy and utterly arousing and he can't remember the last time he'd let himself enjoy the moment like this. He can't pull his gaze away from Monty's eyes, even though the slick sounds of him stretching his own body echo in the background of his awareness.

"I won't," he murmurs, a promise and a threat. "I'll save it all for when I'm buried inside of you, if that's what you want."

He pulls back with one final, long, suckle, letting Justin’s cock go with a wet pop. His lips are swollen and red from the act as he says, “Come here,” grabbing at Justin and tugging him back on top of him, kissing him hard and wanting, letting Justin taste himself smeared there in Monty’s damp mouth.

His legs part for him, framing Justin’s far wider body. The contrast is thrilling, it always has been, and it’s clear that Monty can’t wait any longer because he reaches down to grip Justin’s straining cock and guide it towards his eager, clenching hole. “Make love to me,” he gasps in between their frantic kisses. “I want you to cum so deep inside of me I can taste it - ”

Edited 2022-06-16 14:28 (UTC)

Given the usual proclivities of patrons of pleasure-houses, he knows that this position probably wasn't one Monty had found himself in often, on average. He adjusts himself obediently, stifling a groan at the touch of Monty's hand around his desperate, dripping cock, and lets himself be guided, lets his hips and entire body follow Monty's lead, but as he slides the tip into him, he stills, staying steady, letting Monty adjust to the width of his cockhead holding him open.

"You need more preparation," he murmurs, feeling the way Monty's body clenches around him, already struggling around his girth. "Let me..." He pulls out and kisses Monty's cheek, before he shifts away entirely and leans down to grab a bottle of oil - something neutral, a base he might use for some other treatment, unscented - and set it on the bed as he adjusts their positioning, his large hands utterly gentle on Monty's body as he helps rearrange his limbs before slicking his fingers and circling Monty's hole with one of them, coaxing him open more.

He whines but relents, and ultimately he’s glad he did since the feeling of Justin’s cockhead alone was enough to strain him a little past his limit.

So, he lets Justin arrange him, move his legs apart so softly and deliberate, as if he were adjusting the details of a tableau he was putting together. Knees here. Thighs there. Hips here.

Suddenly, Monty feels a finger, then a second, searching and gentle. Patient. He glances down on a whim, watching Justin watching him and it reminds him suddenly, a bit too much of several of their past engagements at the pleasure-house and he turns his face away, biting his lip, not wanting to feel so seen and on display.

Edited 2022-06-16 20:16 (UTC)

He has a feeling he knows where Monty's mind is at the moment. He doesn't regret the past, but he does want to account for it. His fingers are utterly gentle, responsive to Monty's every movement, and he takes advantage of their difference in size, how much bigger he is than Monty, to lean forward and brush his lips over his cheek, no pressure or demand, just gentle contact.

"I wonder if you know how often I've been thinking about this lately," he murmurs against his skin, making it clear that this was a recent development, not something related to their prior acquaintance. "Wanting to feel you, to touch you, hoping that you might like to touch me in return." He crooks his fingers with his usual expertise, coaxing his body to loosen and relax, but the odd angle of their positioning and the way he is pressed against Monty on his bed, lips soft against his face as though he is loathe to pull away, makes things unusually awkward, a far cry from the practiced scientific explorations of Dr. Justin Baruch on the whore that had happened to catch his eye.

"You always look so lovely," he adds, setting a deliberate rhythm, two fingers sliding in and out in a smooth even thrust of motion, "I can't help wanting to see how much pleasure I can bring you with my cock, not just my fingers or my toys."

No, in fact he didn’t know. He had no clue and hearing Justin tell him this, admit it in this private space, makes Monty’s heart sing. He turns his face forward again, eyes wide and so, so blue. “Really?” He says, bringing a hand up to touch the side of Justin’s face, the sudden curl of the large fingers inside of him making him suck down a sharp gasp.

“Yes, yes, that, I want that,” he breathes, hips arching up a little, changing the angle minutely so that Justin’s hand can shift even deeper. “Tell me more. More of what you’ve been thinking.”

"I think I already know some of what you like," he says as he leans in again, kisses Monty directly on his lips, leading him through a careful, enjoyable dance. "You are always so beautiful in your pleasure, Monty, so free and uninhibited." He adjusts to match Monty's shift, three fingers dipping in and out of his body, stretching him wide without straining him. "I want you to feel nothing but pleasure when I finally bury my cock inside your needy hole, but you enjoy the pressure and strain from taking something just a bit too big into you, don't you?" He twists his fingers, spreading slick ointment all along Monty's inner walls, cutting his own words off with another kiss.

"I want to please you," he whispers, soft and heartfelt, gazing into Monty's eyes. "I want you to ask for me, for my cock, again and again, for as long as you can bear to have me."

His hands come up to grab at Justin’s hair as his body undulates with the motion of Justin’s hands, a small tidal wave completely responsive to Justin’s unique gravity. “Yes,” he moans, eyes fluttering closed with delight. “I want it, want you - so bad - Justin, please - !”

He is implacable, working Monty open to his own satisfaction, despite his urgent pleading. It's deeply, desperately appealing - as it always has been - having Monty spread out for him, begging for him, but this is different somehow. Monty's confidence and trust and eagerness, the genuine demand in his tone - not pretty words for a client but a request between equals, an expression of true want and need and feeling. Justin could deny him, as he'd worked up a habit of doing over the few years of their acquaintance, but he can't bring himself to betray the sentiments expressed so sweetly in every line of Monty's body, in the clenching throb of his body around Justin's fingers, in the line of precum connecting the head of his cock to his own stomach, damp and sticky and wet.

He kisses him again, and then he feels Monty's body yield, warm and soft and open, and he slides his fingers out slowly with a parting press, gentle and anticipatory, against his prostate.

"How do you want me?" He asks, low and steady, staring into Monty's face, before he ducks his head to brush soft kisses against his closed eyelids. "How can I best give you my cock, Monty?"

“Just like this, on my back,” he says, and the eagerness shows instantly in his voice, “I want us to be able to see each other.” He leans in, pressing his mouth to Justin’s jaw, then down to his neck over his jugular. “I want to watch your face when you finally cum because of me.”

He doesn’t mention how he always found this position to be the most romantic, how he remembered watching Alecto and his lover fucking in the spare bedrooms like this many times through a crack in the door, and how it always looked so personal and so intimate. So simple and just deeply special. He wanted so much to feel that too, just once.

He nods and then adjusts their positioning again, wrapping his slick fingers around his own hard, throbbing cock and pumping a few times, spreading oil over the considerable length and girth to ease the way. He wipes his slippery hands clean on a cloth and tosses it aside before he leans in for another kiss, letting his broad hands slide down along Monty's torso, firm presses against his sides, against the beautiful shape of his waist, almost small enough for his hands to wrap around, the gestures tender and just a little bit possessive as he shifts temporarily onto his knees so he can line up his cock against Monty's winking hole again.

He moves with slow, deliberate movements, sinking by gradual degrees into Monty's body, bracing his weight just a few inches above him, still staring into his eyes as though he can't pull away, as though he can't see anything else.

"You feel amazing, Montgomery Quill," he murmurs, breath hot against warm skin. "Who knew we could fit together like this? Do you feel how your body is parting around my cock as I slide into you? I don't know if I ever want to leave." He moves by slow, careful increments, each thrust in rhythm pressing in deeper, wider, a tease of a moment before he pulls back again only to plunge in deeper with each subsequent order or wish.

His legs clutch to Justin's sides and that broad waist as he's slowly speared apart by the man's thick, insistent cock. He's no stranger to this feeling, to this penetration, this type of physical joining. But with Justin, it's nonetheless something new, somehow.

He stares straight into Justin's eyes as they continue, as he feels the hard, thick press of him pushing and prodding, stretching his inner walls so, so wide. Monty bites back a whimper, but he doesn't hide it, lets Justin see it all, each flutter of feeling across his face: the way his eyes widen, his mouth a pert little "o" of awe.

"I feel it," he answers, his voice pitched high and breathless. "I feel all of you. It's better than I could have ever imagined. I feel so full." He clenches almost instinctually at the thought and their groans echo one another. "I wish you'd never leave."

He smiles, shudders with the feeling of Monty's body clenching around him, hot and tight and welcoming. But it's the way Monty looks as he gazes up at Justin, hiding absolutely nothing, trust and interest and an unexpected affection in his eyes, in the way he sounds - uncalculated, genuine - as he urges Justin in deeper.

"I do want to stay," he replies, and then cuts himself off with another kiss, his hips rocking further into Monty on every other motion, their bodies pressed close to each other, Monty's long slender legs wrapped around Justin's waist, drawing him in so there is barely any space between them at all. He can feel Monty's cock, hard and dripping, pressed between their abdomens, leaking stickily between them.

He is patient and careful but when he finally settles all the way into Monty, his balls pressed against the spread curve of his buttocks, he shudders with the sensation, hissing in a breath as he forces himself still, to give Monty a chance to adjust. He knows - has made - Monty can take more than this, that he's used to deeper, more challenging penetration, but it's wholly different like this, their bodies joined so intimately, feeling every twitch and spasm of muscle so directly on himself, around the sensitive length of his throbbing cock.

Prompt - Crane Wife (alternative sidestory)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject