Damn kink meme made me break my promise to myself to not write porn until I lost my own virginity. Oh well, I hope you like this. I also hope I didn't make Altair too weepy.
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Altair whimpered through his gag and pushed back into the thrusts that were slamming his body into the bureau’s counter. His arms were pulled behind his back and tied with his sash, his dick dark and swollen, begging to be touched. Just one touch, then he could cum and Malik could maybe stop assaulting that one little spot in him that made his legs weak and trembling. All he could feel was the delicious push and pull as his asshole burned, stretched to its limit by Malik’s cock, and his hand on his hip, his nails breaking the skin and leaving behind bruises in the perfect shape of his hand.
He sobbed, tears trickling down his face, the gag soaked through and past its limit, unable to absorb any more of Altair’s saliva as the body behind him went rigid, cum splashing inside of him.
“Whore.” Malik breathed out, slowing to a stop.
Altair’s tears began to fall faster. His cock trembled with arousal. He remembered when Malik would have helped him, when they had raced, trying to make the other finish first. Malik pulled out roughly to watch his cum trickle down his former lover’s leg. Altair could imagine him smirking.
He jerked as a dark-skinned hand slapped him on the ass. His legs nearly gave out from the sensation alone. The hand on top of his head, twisted in his short, closely-cropped hair helped him down. He could feel the cum flowing from his asshole and beginning to form a puddle on the bureau’s floor. His head was sharply wrenched back, forcing him to look up at the man he had once lovingly shared his bed with. He barely recognized him now, his face twisted with disgust, loathing and another emotion that Altair couldn’t identify. The hand moved down to his face, trailed across his cheek and all but tore the gag out of his mouth.
“M-malik…” he whispered weakly.
“Slut,” he hissed, kicking Altair’s legs apart, “look at you, still hard and begging.” His hand cracked across his face. Altair tasted copper and looked back at him, pleading. Precum slid down the sides of his shaft. He was so hard it hurt. Malik’s hand snaked its way back into his hair and pulled, forcing his face to his softening cock. “Weeping like a woman.” The familiar scent of Malik made him ache even more fiercely for the days of soft touches and kisses.
“Well?” the harsh voice above demanded, “clean me up like a good little whore.” A sneer entered his voice. “Or do you prefer other cocks to mine? Such a harlot.” The words were punctuated with yanks on his hair. Altair forced his swollen tongue out from in-between his lips and lapped at the juncture where cock met body. He sucked and gently nipped with his lips at the filthy cock, still covered with cum and olive oil. He closed his eyes when he took the head into his mouth, sucking gently and pretending that they were back in Masyaf, still novices and just discovering each other’s bodies.
Malik thrust, forcing his cock down his throat and breaking the delicate illusion. “Eat it.” he ground out, his face flushing. “Swallow it like you do every cock that is offered to you.” Short, coarse hairs began to tear from his scalp under the older man’s unforgiving fingers. Altair’s eyes watered from both the pain in his throat and the pain in his heart.
Filthy Whore
* * *
Altair whimpered through his gag and pushed back into the thrusts that were slamming his body into the bureau’s counter. His arms were pulled behind his back and tied with his sash, his dick dark and swollen, begging to be touched. Just one touch, then he could cum and Malik could maybe stop assaulting that one little spot in him that made his legs weak and trembling. All he could feel was the delicious push and pull as his asshole burned, stretched to its limit by Malik’s cock, and his hand on his hip, his nails breaking the skin and leaving behind bruises in the perfect shape of his hand.
He sobbed, tears trickling down his face, the gag soaked through and past its limit, unable to absorb any more of Altair’s saliva as the body behind him went rigid, cum splashing inside of him.
“Whore.” Malik breathed out, slowing to a stop.
Altair’s tears began to fall faster. His cock trembled with arousal. He remembered when Malik would have helped him, when they had raced, trying to make the other finish first. Malik pulled out roughly to watch his cum trickle down his former lover’s leg. Altair could imagine him smirking.
He jerked as a dark-skinned hand slapped him on the ass. His legs nearly gave out from the sensation alone. The hand on top of his head, twisted in his short, closely-cropped hair helped him down. He could feel the cum flowing from his asshole and beginning to form a puddle on the bureau’s floor. His head was sharply wrenched back, forcing him to look up at the man he had once lovingly shared his bed with. He barely recognized him now, his face twisted with disgust, loathing and another emotion that Altair couldn’t identify. The hand moved down to his face, trailed across his cheek and all but tore the gag out of his mouth.
“M-malik…” he whispered weakly.
“Slut,” he hissed, kicking Altair’s legs apart, “look at you, still hard and begging.” His hand cracked across his face. Altair tasted copper and looked back at him, pleading. Precum slid down the sides of his shaft. He was so hard it hurt. Malik’s hand snaked its way back into his hair and pulled, forcing his face to his softening cock. “Weeping like a woman.” The familiar scent of Malik made him ache even more fiercely for the days of soft touches and kisses.
“Well?” the harsh voice above demanded, “clean me up like a good little whore.” A sneer entered his voice. “Or do you prefer other cocks to mine? Such a harlot.” The words were punctuated with yanks on his hair. Altair forced his swollen tongue out from in-between his lips and lapped at the juncture where cock met body. He sucked and gently nipped with his lips at the filthy cock, still covered with cum and olive oil. He closed his eyes when he took the head into his mouth, sucking gently and pretending that they were back in Masyaf, still novices and just discovering each other’s bodies.
Malik thrust, forcing his cock down his throat and breaking the delicate illusion. “Eat it.” he ground out, his face flushing. “Swallow it like you do every cock that is offered to you.” Short, coarse hairs began to tear from his scalp under the older man’s unforgiving fingers. Altair’s eyes watered from both the pain in his throat and the pain in his heart.