Determined to make this everything he had wanted it to be, Malik danced his fingers away from Altaïr's chest and to the tip of his lover's cock, hovering a millimetre away from the sticky head. Altaïr snarled impatiently. On cue Malik's left hand flew to his mouth and pressed in two fingers. A tongue swirled between them, igniting a flame of hypersensitivity. Malik gasped and finally took Altaïr in hand, pumping the organ with long, slow strokes. An appreciative moan was muffled by his fingers and palm. At a wicked twist of his wrist Altaïr moaned again and bit lightly on the digits invading his mouth. He gripped Malik's right wrist to hold his hand in place and buck up into the tight ring of his fingers fiercely and strongly, legs flexing. Malik's fingers slipped from his mouth and curled, dragging along Altaïr's toned torso and bypassing his cock, pressing his palm to Altaïr's thigh and keeping him pinned down.
“The oil.” He said, his hand left on Altaïr's arousal unmoving. Altaïr scrambled away and out of reach to a box at the side of Malik's bed, moving the oil lamp off of the lid impatiently so that he could rip it open. He fell back onto the bed with a vial in hand, sinking on the stiff pillows. A soft squeeze ans a few light stroked to his erection in thanks, Malik pulled his hands away from Altaïr's temptingly exposed flesh and took the vial, spilling the slippery oil over his left hand and lowering it to Altaïr's entrance. His first finger slid in easily and Altaïr had to grab the vial away from Malik's right hand when it threatened to drop.
Altaïr was burning hot inside. Thick, muscular walls surrounded Malik's new, hypersensitive skin and made him moan. He pressed up with his finger in an attempt to find the spot which would make Altaïr moan wantonly. He merely squirmed uncomfortably in response, and then reached down and gently twisted Malik's hand, bearing himself onto the finger. His sound of approval was breathy and quiet rather than the loud and strong moan he usually gave.
“There, just there.” He said, rolling his hips minutely onto Malik's digit. Malik pushed his down one-handed and drew his finger part-way out to press another in. When he searched this time it was closer to the mark. His new arm provided a new angle. Malik felt like an idiot for not thinking about that possibility when fantasising.
Altaïr moaned a few words of encouragement and swore, reaching to stroke himself as he usually would. Smirking, Malik quickly batted Altaïr away and took him in hand, palming and massaging the length. With a wanton moan that coursed straight through Malik's veins and to his hard member Altaïr ground down onto his lover's fingers.
“Fuck me fuck me fuck me.” He hissed and groaned as Malik pressed in another finger. Altaïr was tight and hot and strong around him as he loosened muscle and softly rutted against the thigh he was pressed his groin to. With suddenly oil-slicked hands (the vial rolled over the flagstone floor, empty) Altaïr reached beneath his leg in a show of flexibility and took Malik into his fist. The attention to his arousal drew out a long moan from Malik, who bucked into the tight passage made with Altaïr's fingers (one missing, and the stub always managed to swipe over the head just so and send his head reeling). He pulled his fingers hastily from Altaïr's entrance.
FILL [6.f/6]
“The oil.” He said, his hand left on Altaïr's arousal unmoving. Altaïr scrambled away and out of reach to a box at the side of Malik's bed, moving the oil lamp off of the lid impatiently so that he could rip it open. He fell back onto the bed with a vial in hand, sinking on the stiff pillows. A soft squeeze ans a few light stroked to his erection in thanks, Malik pulled his hands away from Altaïr's temptingly exposed flesh and took the vial, spilling the slippery oil over his left hand and lowering it to Altaïr's entrance. His first finger slid in easily and Altaïr had to grab the vial away from Malik's right hand when it threatened to drop.
Altaïr was burning hot inside. Thick, muscular walls surrounded Malik's new, hypersensitive skin and made him moan. He pressed up with his finger in an attempt to find the spot which would make Altaïr moan wantonly. He merely squirmed uncomfortably in response, and then reached down and gently twisted Malik's hand, bearing himself onto the finger. His sound of approval was breathy and quiet rather than the loud and strong moan he usually gave.
“There, just there.” He said, rolling his hips minutely onto Malik's digit. Malik pushed his down one-handed and drew his finger part-way out to press another in. When he searched this time it was closer to the mark. His new arm provided a new angle. Malik felt like an idiot for not thinking about that possibility when fantasising.
Altaïr moaned a few words of encouragement and swore, reaching to stroke himself as he usually would. Smirking, Malik quickly batted Altaïr away and took him in hand, palming and massaging the length. With a wanton moan that coursed straight through Malik's veins and to his hard member Altaïr ground down onto his lover's fingers.
“Fuck me fuck me fuck me.” He hissed and groaned as Malik pressed in another finger. Altaïr was tight and hot and strong around him as he loosened muscle and softly rutted against the thigh he was pressed his groin to. With suddenly oil-slicked hands (the vial rolled over the flagstone floor, empty) Altaïr reached beneath his leg in a show of flexibility and took Malik into his fist. The attention to his arousal drew out a long moan from Malik, who bucked into the tight passage made with Altaïr's fingers (one missing, and the stub always managed to swipe over the head just so and send his head reeling). He pulled his fingers hastily from Altaïr's entrance.