Let's call it a night (2/?)
anonymous
October 10 2009, 23:12:05 UTC
Alfred let go of a surprised gasp, making Arthur slip his tongue in between his lips, roaming his mouth.
It was breathtaking. Alfred had shared many kisses with Arthur, but he’d always been the one in charge, the one to sway Arthur off his feet and make him a flushed, moaning mess. But things seemed to has changed.
Alfred needed air. Arthur needed more. His tongue swirled around Alfred’s, lovingly, wanting. Alfred closed his eyes, his knees going weak from the loss of breath, and just as he was about to snap, Arthur pulled back, attacking his neck instead. Alfred whimpered as teeth scratched down his meat, making it blush up in clear red. The sheer loss of control was going straight to his lower regions, and his pants seemed to tighten around his groin. Arthur’s hands rested at his hips as he ducked his head, biting down just above his collar. Alfred groaned:
“You’ll be leaving a mark.” Arthur chuckled:
“I’ll be leaving more than one.”
Arthur started to button down Alfred’s shirt, but as the man reached for his, he took a step back, a glimpse of offence flickering across his eyes.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not the one in charge.”
“S-sorry?” Alfred mumbled with uncertainty in his voice. He took in air, obviously trying to regain control. Though it didn’t seem to work. Arthur’s eyes rested at his groin, teeth slowly showing in a harsh smile.
“You’re so easy to turn on.” Alfred snorted.
“Well, do you mind?”
“Not at all, honey.” Arthur winked at him, and for a second he seemed more like Francis than the stubborn Englishman he normally was, but every similarity was left to be thought through later on, for suddenly Arthur had abandoned Alfred’s shirt for good, now on his knees with his fingers at the American’s belt. He looked up with a bright smile and raised brows.
“Now, tell me what I should be doing on my knees.” Alfred chuckled nervously, leaning against the wall for support. Arthur had started to click his belt open. Alfred felt his throat going dry.
“Maybe you…” He cleared his throat. “You…”
“Louder, you’re whispering, kid.”
“You,” Alfred tried again, persistent, “you’re to suck my cock?” Arthur grinned.
“And now - tell me who’ll be the one to decide whether I’ll be doing that or not?”
“You.” Click. Arthur ripped Alfred’s belt from the pants, letting it dump to the floor.
“Correct answer, you win a prize.” Arthur seemed to be enjoying himself. Alfred couldn’t help but wonder if all those years of submission had finally got him to snap. If so, they could expect rape from Kiku any second now. The thought humoured Alfred. His face must’ve shown his distraction, for as he looked down, Arthur was starring at him, narrowing his gaze.
“You’re not paying attention.”
“I am!” Alfred assured him, “I just-”
“Got caught up in your thoughts? You’ll be fucking sorry.” Hearing Arthur swear made a chill run through Alfred’s body. Arthur zipped the pants open, ripping them down to hang around Alfred’s ankles before his gaze fell upon the bulge clearly showing through Alfred’s boxers. Pre-cum had already started to leak from the slit, and a wet spot was showing in front. Arthur looked up to catch Alfred’s eyes before he leaned in, gently kissing the wet spot, poking out his pink tongue to let it slip across it.
Alfred’s breath hitched. He closed his eyes with a small whimper, bucking his hips forward but found he was quickly pushed back by Arthur.
“Stand still or I won’t go further,” he mumbled. Alfred nodded desperately.
“Yes, yes. Sorry.”
“Sorry?” Arthur tilted his head to the side. His fingers caressed Alfred’s stomach with lazy strokes as he seemed to be thinking about something. Alfred impatently watched him. “Let’s make a game out of it,” Arthur then said, slowly smirking, “every time you disobey my orders, you’re being punished.”
Re: Let's call it a night (2/?)
anonymous
October 11 2009, 03:40:31 UTC
This anon highly approves of this ghost's priorities and of these sexy happenings. It's a wonder Iggy hasn't done an exorcism before, with all of these ghosts perving on America.
It was breathtaking. Alfred had shared many kisses with Arthur, but he’d always been the one in charge, the one to sway Arthur off his feet and make him a flushed, moaning mess. But things seemed to has changed.
Alfred needed air. Arthur needed more. His tongue swirled around Alfred’s, lovingly, wanting. Alfred closed his eyes, his knees going weak from the loss of breath, and just as he was about to snap, Arthur pulled back, attacking his neck instead. Alfred whimpered as teeth scratched down his meat, making it blush up in clear red. The sheer loss of control was going straight to his lower regions, and his pants seemed to tighten around his groin. Arthur’s hands rested at his hips as he ducked his head, biting down just above his collar. Alfred groaned:
“You’ll be leaving a mark.” Arthur chuckled:
“I’ll be leaving more than one.”
Arthur started to button down Alfred’s shirt, but as the man reached for his, he took a step back, a glimpse of offence flickering across his eyes.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re not the one in charge.”
“S-sorry?” Alfred mumbled with uncertainty in his voice. He took in air, obviously trying to regain control. Though it didn’t seem to work. Arthur’s eyes rested at his groin, teeth slowly showing in a harsh smile.
“You’re so easy to turn on.” Alfred snorted.
“Well, do you mind?”
“Not at all, honey.” Arthur winked at him, and for a second he seemed more like Francis than the stubborn Englishman he normally was, but every similarity was left to be thought through later on, for suddenly Arthur had abandoned Alfred’s shirt for good, now on his knees with his fingers at the American’s belt. He looked up with a bright smile and raised brows.
“Now, tell me what I should be doing on my knees.” Alfred chuckled nervously, leaning against the wall for support. Arthur had started to click his belt open. Alfred felt his throat going dry.
“Maybe you…” He cleared his throat. “You…”
“Louder, you’re whispering, kid.”
“You,” Alfred tried again, persistent, “you’re to suck my cock?” Arthur grinned.
“And now - tell me who’ll be the one to decide whether I’ll be doing that or not?”
“You.” Click. Arthur ripped Alfred’s belt from the pants, letting it dump to the floor.
“Correct answer, you win a prize.” Arthur seemed to be enjoying himself. Alfred couldn’t help but wonder if all those years of submission had finally got him to snap. If so, they could expect rape from Kiku any second now. The thought humoured Alfred. His face must’ve shown his distraction, for as he looked down, Arthur was starring at him, narrowing his gaze.
“You’re not paying attention.”
“I am!” Alfred assured him, “I just-”
“Got caught up in your thoughts? You’ll be fucking sorry.” Hearing Arthur swear made a chill run through Alfred’s body. Arthur zipped the pants open, ripping them down to hang around Alfred’s ankles before his gaze fell upon the bulge clearly showing through Alfred’s boxers. Pre-cum had already started to leak from the slit, and a wet spot was showing in front. Arthur looked up to catch Alfred’s eyes before he leaned in, gently kissing the wet spot, poking out his pink tongue to let it slip across it.
Alfred’s breath hitched. He closed his eyes with a small whimper, bucking his hips forward but found he was quickly pushed back by Arthur.
“Stand still or I won’t go further,” he mumbled. Alfred nodded desperately.
“Yes, yes. Sorry.”
“Sorry?” Arthur tilted his head to the side. His fingers caressed Alfred’s stomach with lazy strokes as he seemed to be thinking about something. Alfred impatently watched him. “Let’s make a game out of it,” Arthur then said, slowly smirking, “every time you disobey my orders, you’re being punished.”
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More, writer!anon, more!
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“We watch you when you masturbate.”
I love it! I cannot wait for the next part! I owe you Authoranon! Anything you want just ask~
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LOL, ghosts sees EVERYTHING!! Nice.
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MY.
GOD.
This is so hott!!, anon! Please, update soon! Your pace and wording and characterization and- everything, really, everything is AWESOME!
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