A furious blush spread all the way up to Leonardo’s ears as he turned to hide the fact that he was staring behind the marble piece. “Buona, just—just stand like that.” He stuttered out, totally ignoring La Volpe’s last remark.
For the next hour or so, Leonardo tried his hardest to ignore the man modeling, however no matter how hard he tried there was no ignoring the beast of a cock staring back at him. After the first hour, he got the hips of David done, finally bringing his attention to the statue’s own groin. This didn’t help him at all. Looking back and forth from the marble to the real thing as he chiseled away, growing hotter and hotter as he did so. Leonardo had to pause, running his fingers tentatively over the cold marble shaft, almost perfectly formed. Except he kept thinking it wasn’t right. He had the girth wrong, it had to be that. Wider, maybe, big enough to enforce power, to stretch and hurt—
“I feel you are growing distracted, Leonardo.”
The voice came from behind him. When La Volpe had moved was beyond him. The reply caught on the edge of his tongue as rough, calloused hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him back to press against the man’s body. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to concentrate on the dick pressed up against his thigh.
“And I feel,” Those hands were moving, going from his waist to lift up his white shirt (only now had Leonardo realized the heat had driven him to remove most of his clothing, so only his shirt and pants remained). Warm hands pressed against warm skin, moving down, past the barrier of cloth to grip Leonardo’s half-hard member. He groaned. “That your distractions have something to do with me?” This was emphasized by La Volpe grinding forward into Leonardo, making him feel the full length pressed against him.
“P-please!” Leonardo groaned, hating how desperate he sounded already. “I want to touch it.”
Behind him, the assassin laughed. “As you wish, Maestro.” Leonardo was released and spun around. It took him a second to get his bearings before he looked Gilberto in his dark eyes once and sunk down to his knees.
His hands stretched up, feeling the rise and fall of a sculpted stomach and abs, fingers traveling slower when they hit scar tissue. Some were pale, old, and faded. Others were newer, still white and shining, the uneven surfaces making Leonardo want to touch them forever. Though, his eyes traveled with his hands and as they fell, the scars became less and less important. An index fingers came to trail down the curls of hair, farther and farther until, finally, the entirety of the Fox’s member stared him in the face. He could smell the scent of La Volpe clearly, all of his senses filling with this cock and the man that was attached to it; how very close it was and how he wanted more.
For a second, hesitation entered his facial features. Closer, he could measure it with his eyes properly, it being at the least two inches longer then Ezio’s, that this was simply flaccid. The girth of it—well—Leonardo could only find a suitable way of figuring that out by grasping it. His fingers curled around the base, squeezing softly as a sort of chuckled groan answered him, encouraging him to go on. Explore. As it was, his fingers did not meet all the way around. The very width of it was too much. Oh, how that would feel sliding in and out of him, stretching him past the point of breaking. Fucking him raw…
The artist groaned, shifting his body, trying to get more comfortable as his own need made itself present in his pants. “Beautiful, it’s so…” Leonardo let the words fall from his mouth, for once not able to find the right word. He groaned once more in frustration, mental and sexual. Above him came a short bark of laughter. Looking up, Gilberto was smirking slyly down at him. Leonardo blush deepened as he licked his lips. “May I?”
Re: Size Matters [3/?]
For the next hour or so, Leonardo tried his hardest to ignore the man modeling, however no matter how hard he tried there was no ignoring the beast of a cock staring back at him. After the first hour, he got the hips of David done, finally bringing his attention to the statue’s own groin. This didn’t help him at all. Looking back and forth from the marble to the real thing as he chiseled away, growing hotter and hotter as he did so. Leonardo had to pause, running his fingers tentatively over the cold marble shaft, almost perfectly formed. Except he kept thinking it wasn’t right. He had the girth wrong, it had to be that. Wider, maybe, big enough to enforce power, to stretch and hurt—
“I feel you are growing distracted, Leonardo.”
The voice came from behind him. When La Volpe had moved was beyond him. The reply caught on the edge of his tongue as rough, calloused hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him back to press against the man’s body. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying not to concentrate on the dick pressed up against his thigh.
“And I feel,” Those hands were moving, going from his waist to lift up his white shirt (only now had Leonardo realized the heat had driven him to remove most of his clothing, so only his shirt and pants remained). Warm hands pressed against warm skin, moving down, past the barrier of cloth to grip Leonardo’s half-hard member. He groaned. “That your distractions have something to do with me?” This was emphasized by La Volpe grinding forward into Leonardo, making him feel the full length pressed against him.
“P-please!” Leonardo groaned, hating how desperate he sounded already. “I want to touch it.”
Behind him, the assassin laughed. “As you wish, Maestro.” Leonardo was released and spun around. It took him a second to get his bearings before he looked Gilberto in his dark eyes once and sunk down to his knees.
His hands stretched up, feeling the rise and fall of a sculpted stomach and abs, fingers traveling slower when they hit scar tissue. Some were pale, old, and faded. Others were newer, still white and shining, the uneven surfaces making Leonardo want to touch them forever. Though, his eyes traveled with his hands and as they fell, the scars became less and less important. An index fingers came to trail down the curls of hair, farther and farther until, finally, the entirety of the Fox’s member stared him in the face. He could smell the scent of La Volpe clearly, all of his senses filling with this cock and the man that was attached to it; how very close it was and how he wanted more.
For a second, hesitation entered his facial features. Closer, he could measure it with his eyes properly, it being at the least two inches longer then Ezio’s, that this was simply flaccid. The girth of it—well—Leonardo could only find a suitable way of figuring that out by grasping it. His fingers curled around the base, squeezing softly as a sort of chuckled groan answered him, encouraging him to go on. Explore. As it was, his fingers did not meet all the way around. The very width of it was too much. Oh, how that would feel sliding in and out of him, stretching him past the point of breaking. Fucking him raw…
The artist groaned, shifting his body, trying to get more comfortable as his own need made itself present in his pants. “Beautiful, it’s so…” Leonardo let the words fall from his mouth, for once not able to find the right word. He groaned once more in frustration, mental and sexual. Above him came a short bark of laughter. Looking up, Gilberto was smirking slyly down at him. Leonardo blush deepened as he licked his lips. “May I?”
The assassin nodded. “By all means, Maestro.”