Pairing: Arcade/M!Courier Kinks: Orgasm denial, oral, mild BDSM Summary: When the courier said he was up for a day of fun with Arcade, he hadn't expected to actually wait all day.
"Fuck, Gannon...come on, please. This ain't fair." Shane's voice was hoarse from what felt like days of moaning, pleading and gasping for air that suddenly seemed to be in such short supply. His throat burned, and his wrists were rubbed raw by the rope that bound them. His cock, shiny with precome and spit, throbbed shamelessly in time with his pounding pulse.
And then there was the good doctor standing before him, fully dressed and drinking in his naked desperation. He had a look of self-satisfaction in his eyes that made Shane's ear burn. "'Fair' wasn't part of the plan tonight, if I remember correctly." He took his glasses off of that handsome face - flushed despite his best efforts to seem unaffected by all of this - to clean them on his coat. "You said you wanted my mouth, didn't you?"
Shane shifted in his chair. He struggled half-heartedly against his restraints, feeling a secret satisfaction at their refusal to give. "Yeah, but--"
"And what have you been getting all day?" Arcade sank to his knees as he spoke. "Hm?" He anchored his hands on his captive's tanned thighs, pushing his legs further apart. His lips hovered close enough to the courier's aching cock to tease him with each breath. Shane whimpered and bucked his hips, praying to brush against that hot mouth for even a second.
The movement was met with a sharp smack on the thigh that made him yelp. The impact shot straight through his shaft, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."
Shane looked down at the kneeling doctor with wet eyes. A red mark bloomed beneath his flesh where he'd been reprimanded. "I..I don't remember..." His head was fogged, spinning like a weather vane in a wind storm. He didn't know how much longer he could take this. He hadn't known that Arcade was capable of this.
They'd fooled around a few times back in Freeside, sure. They'd stolen moments whenever they could spare them. He grew to crave the sensation of those immaculate nails digging into the firm flesh of his ass, the torturous, red hot friction as they ground against one another through cruel layers of clothing, a long-fingered hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his shuddering cries of release. But out here in the desert, there was no need to be quiet.
And there was no need to rush, as Arcade was making the courier painfully aware.
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timeasmymeasure
Arcade/M!Courier: The Back of Your Mouth [1A/1]
Date: 2012-01-07 04:09 am (UTC)Kinks: Orgasm denial, oral, mild BDSM
Summary: When the courier said he was up for a day of fun with Arcade, he hadn't expected to actually wait all day.
"Fuck, Gannon...come on, please. This ain't fair." Shane's voice was hoarse from what felt like days of moaning, pleading and gasping for air that suddenly seemed to be in such short supply. His throat burned, and his wrists were rubbed raw by the rope that bound them. His cock, shiny with precome and spit, throbbed shamelessly in time with his pounding pulse.
And then there was the good doctor standing before him, fully dressed and drinking in his naked desperation. He had a look of self-satisfaction in his eyes that made Shane's ear burn. "'Fair' wasn't part of the plan tonight, if I remember correctly." He took his glasses off of that handsome face - flushed despite his best efforts to seem unaffected by all of this - to clean them on his coat. "You said you wanted my mouth, didn't you?"
Shane shifted in his chair. He struggled half-heartedly against his restraints, feeling a secret satisfaction at their refusal to give. "Yeah, but--"
"And what have you been getting all day?" Arcade sank to his knees as he spoke. "Hm?" He anchored his hands on his captive's tanned thighs, pushing his legs further apart. His lips hovered close enough to the courier's aching cock to tease him with each breath. Shane whimpered and bucked his hips, praying to brush against that hot mouth for even a second.
The movement was met with a sharp smack on the thigh that made him yelp. The impact shot straight through his shaft, causing his eyes to roll back in his head. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."
Shane looked down at the kneeling doctor with wet eyes. A red mark bloomed beneath his flesh where he'd been reprimanded. "I..I don't remember..." His head was fogged, spinning like a weather vane in a wind storm. He didn't know how much longer he could take this. He hadn't known that Arcade was capable of this.
They'd fooled around a few times back in Freeside, sure. They'd stolen moments whenever they could spare them. He grew to crave the sensation of those immaculate nails digging into the firm flesh of his ass, the torturous, red hot friction as they ground against one another through cruel layers of clothing, a long-fingered hand clamping over his mouth to stifle his shuddering cries of release. But out here in the desert, there was no need to be quiet.
And there was no need to rush, as Arcade was making the courier painfully aware.