“Turn over.” He gasped, pulling at Altaïr's hip with a hand until he was released and Altaïr was twisting, exposing a broad and muscled back and rubbing himself against the sheets beneath. Both hands on Altaïr's hips Malik pulled them up and back towards him, grinding his lubricated cock between the cheeks of Altaïr's arse until the assassin beneath him struggled for breath and pulled himself onto his elbows, grinding back. One hand on the small of Altaïr's back, Malik used the other to guide himself in, the head pressing against the puckered ring of muscle with more and more pressure until it gave way and took him in, heat and tightness swallowing him up. He moaned loudly, his jaw hanging open and brow drawn up, all attention on getting his cock further into that deep, hot tunnel. Altaïr chocked on curses and blasphemy, fists clenching at a cylindrical cushion.
In no time at all Malik was fully seated, his dick surrounded by gorgeous, wonderful heat and deliciously strong muscle. His hands gripped at Altaïr's hips as he fought to regain his breath and to resist the urge to move too soon. Altaïr's tense back was a sign of him not yet being ready. Malik stooped over him and kissed a line down Altaïr's bowed spine. Licking his lips he could taste the salt of Altaïr's sweat. Slowly, Altaïr's coiled muscled unwound. His fists uncurled. His breathing became less laboured. He pressed back, rocking on his knees. The shift brought forth a gasp for breath from the both of them.
“Fuck me.” Altaïr breathed, shifting again to feel the same slight change and the same lick of pleasure striking from all places he and Malik touched. Malik nodded against Altaïr's back as he slowly pulled his hips back and then pressed them back in. The wet sound of his lubricated entry sounded obscenely and vulgarly with their panting breath. Altaïr's grip on the pillow tightened again, his nails audibly catching on the weave. Little things like that kept Malik from being sucked in too quickly. He thrust again a little quicker and a little harder. Altaïr moaned appreciatively and rocked back a second too late. Malik took that as a cue.
Hands tightening their grip on Altaïr's muscular hips, Malik fell into a rhythm, a moan falling from his lover's lips, which was muffled into a pillow. Altaïr bit it as he ground back, meeting Malik's thrusts the best he could and coaxing a more brutal pace. The sound of flesh hitting flesh began to ring out. Altaïr's arse jumped and reddened with the force Malik used to pound into him. When Altaïr had began to nonsensically babble and muffle it into the pillow Malik saw his chance to realise his fantasy. Slowing, he pushed himself up and then reached forwards and grasped Altaïr's hair, pulling his head up. Altaïr hissed and then moaned, pain spiralling from the rough grip on his locks and mixing with the pleasure he was victim to. Malik's position and angle changed and he rammed back in, quickly matching his earlier pace. Altaïr's next moan bounced off the wall he faced and was echoes by one of Malik's own.
Malik's orgasm was quickly approaching, seeming almost sudden and no doubt quickened by weeks of waiting. He spread himself out over Altaïr, hand slipping from his hip to the mattress, keeping him up, and ground himself into the man in tight circles, earning a broken moan close to his ear. One of Altaïr's hand flew to his erection and he jerked it quickly and desperately until with a long, loud groan he spilled onto his own hand. With a whimper and a few shallow thrusts Malik came, too, his seed coating Altaïr's walls. He groaned softly as a complete exhaustion overcame him and pulled out of Altaïr, who rolled onto his side. Muscles shaking with exhaustion he collapsed and basked in his afterglow.
FILL [6.g/6]
In no time at all Malik was fully seated, his dick surrounded by gorgeous, wonderful heat and deliciously strong muscle. His hands gripped at Altaïr's hips as he fought to regain his breath and to resist the urge to move too soon. Altaïr's tense back was a sign of him not yet being ready. Malik stooped over him and kissed a line down Altaïr's bowed spine. Licking his lips he could taste the salt of Altaïr's sweat. Slowly, Altaïr's coiled muscled unwound. His fists uncurled. His breathing became less laboured. He pressed back, rocking on his knees. The shift brought forth a gasp for breath from the both of them.
“Fuck me.” Altaïr breathed, shifting again to feel the same slight change and the same lick of pleasure striking from all places he and Malik touched. Malik nodded against Altaïr's back as he slowly pulled his hips back and then pressed them back in. The wet sound of his lubricated entry sounded obscenely and vulgarly with their panting breath. Altaïr's grip on the pillow tightened again, his nails audibly catching on the weave. Little things like that kept Malik from being sucked in too quickly. He thrust again a little quicker and a little harder. Altaïr moaned appreciatively and rocked back a second too late. Malik took that as a cue.
Hands tightening their grip on Altaïr's muscular hips, Malik fell into a rhythm, a moan falling from his lover's lips, which was muffled into a pillow. Altaïr bit it as he ground back, meeting Malik's thrusts the best he could and coaxing a more brutal pace. The sound of flesh hitting flesh began to ring out. Altaïr's arse jumped and reddened with the force Malik used to pound into him. When Altaïr had began to nonsensically babble and muffle it into the pillow Malik saw his chance to realise his fantasy. Slowing, he pushed himself up and then reached forwards and grasped Altaïr's hair, pulling his head up. Altaïr hissed and then moaned, pain spiralling from the rough grip on his locks and mixing with the pleasure he was victim to. Malik's position and angle changed and he rammed back in, quickly matching his earlier pace. Altaïr's next moan bounced off the wall he faced and was echoes by one of Malik's own.
Malik's orgasm was quickly approaching, seeming almost sudden and no doubt quickened by weeks of waiting. He spread himself out over Altaïr, hand slipping from his hip to the mattress, keeping him up, and ground himself into the man in tight circles, earning a broken moan close to his ear. One of Altaïr's hand flew to his erection and he jerked it quickly and desperately until with a long, loud groan he spilled onto his own hand. With a whimper and a few shallow thrusts Malik came, too, his seed coating Altaïr's walls. He groaned softly as a complete exhaustion overcame him and pulled out of Altaïr, who rolled onto his side. Muscles shaking with exhaustion he collapsed and basked in his afterglow.