Amictus [4a/5]
anonymous
March 14 2010, 02:48:33 UTC
Deeply sorry for the delay. ; - ;|| Finally, the climax (no pun really) is reached. *facepalm* ;;;;
-
The night is still, but certainly not quiet. The child in Arthur's lap is breathing erratically due to much foreplay from the man. Along with that, his face is extremely red (and soft), his nightdress lifted to expose his young body. Arthur perversely watches, drinking in the vulnerable sight of his charge. Alfred shrinks under his gaze, but remains within reach.
Arthur nuzzles his head against Alfred's, emitting a surprised mewl. His hand feathers across the boy's plump thighs and gives a tiny squeeze. Alfred sputters incoherent babble; his voice is still heavy, slow, vulnerable. Arthur licks his lips, then presses them to Alfred's left cheek.
“Now, all you have to do is remain on my lap, but move back and forth.” The small sandy-blonde quakes in reply, his heat sending off strange emotions and reactions. Is it because Arthur is doing this? Alfred remains still (yet shivering) in the man's lap. Tears prick in Alfred's eyes as he notices an impatient one in Arthur's.
Shyly, Alfred follows his guardian's commands. His small hands bring the thin white fabric to his mouth to bite onto it (sweating), the hands then move to his sides to grip the couch to balance (racing heart), he moves his lower body against the clothed leg (revel), and an involuntary mewl escapes his throat. Shocked by this, the boy opens his eyes to see if Arthur would scold him. Instead he is met by vigilant green eyes, strangely engrossed and determined. Alfred's heart skips a beat at the off look, but then again, what they're doing now is different from their usual bonding.
The boy continues to thrust against his leg, hauntingly stimulated. Arthur pays close attention to Alfred's unsure, innocent expressions, then travels down to his throbbing lower regions. The sight, sounds, and feel greatly appeal to his senses. There is a hint of Alfred's taste still on his lips with the cool cotton aroma.
The air thickens when hoarse breathing takes course as the grinding increases. A heavy blanket of dark emotion envelops the dirty blonde, tugging at his heart and rationality. Again, tears attack the boy's eyes. Again, why is this happening? Is this some sort of strange punishment? He certainly feels humiliated enough, laying his naked weakness and body before his “father-figure”. Yet he continues to rub against the leg, his privates burning with an unknown need. Questions rise in his throat, but are swallowed down when thinking of consequences. Would he be scolded? Exiled from his brother and Francis?
Arthur resettles himself, all the while smirking and observing the spectacle before him: a small, plump, soft-haired boy lifting his nightdress to expose his erection. Movement jolts the boy's senses, earning another throaty mewl. He takes the damp clothing into his hands, his teeth chattering too much to keep it there.
The sensation was spectacular, unique, and eating away at him. Alfred doesn't dare speak these words, instead opts to hang his mouth open with the sudden feeling of an atmospheric pressure to breathe.
Finally, the climax (no pun really) is reached. *facepalm* ;;;;
-
The night is still, but certainly not quiet. The child in Arthur's lap is breathing erratically due to much foreplay from the man. Along with that, his face is extremely red (and soft), his nightdress lifted to expose his young body. Arthur perversely watches, drinking in the vulnerable sight of his charge. Alfred shrinks under his gaze, but remains within reach.
Arthur nuzzles his head against Alfred's, emitting a surprised mewl. His hand feathers across the boy's plump thighs and gives a tiny squeeze. Alfred sputters incoherent babble; his voice is still heavy, slow, vulnerable. Arthur licks his lips, then presses them to Alfred's left cheek.
“Now, all you have to do is remain on my lap, but move back and forth.” The small sandy-blonde quakes in reply, his heat sending off strange emotions and reactions. Is it because Arthur is doing this? Alfred remains still (yet shivering) in the man's lap. Tears prick in Alfred's eyes as he notices an impatient one in Arthur's.
Shyly, Alfred follows his guardian's commands. His small hands bring the thin white fabric to his mouth to bite onto it (sweating), the hands then move to his sides to grip the couch to balance (racing heart), he moves his lower body against the clothed leg (revel), and an involuntary mewl escapes his throat. Shocked by this, the boy opens his eyes to see if Arthur would scold him. Instead he is met by vigilant green eyes, strangely engrossed and determined. Alfred's heart skips a beat at the off look, but then again, what they're doing now is different from their usual bonding.
The boy continues to thrust against his leg, hauntingly stimulated. Arthur pays close attention to Alfred's unsure, innocent expressions, then travels down to his throbbing lower regions. The sight, sounds, and feel greatly appeal to his senses. There is a hint of Alfred's taste still on his lips with the cool cotton aroma.
The air thickens when hoarse breathing takes course as the grinding increases. A heavy blanket of dark emotion envelops the dirty blonde, tugging at his heart and rationality. Again, tears attack the boy's eyes. Again, why is this happening? Is this some sort of strange punishment? He certainly feels humiliated enough, laying his naked weakness and body before his “father-figure”. Yet he continues to rub against the leg, his privates burning with an unknown need. Questions rise in his throat, but are swallowed down when thinking of consequences. Would he be scolded? Exiled from his brother and Francis?
Arthur resettles himself, all the while smirking and observing the spectacle before him: a small, plump, soft-haired boy lifting his nightdress to expose his erection. Movement jolts the boy's senses, earning another throaty mewl. He takes the damp clothing into his hands, his teeth chattering too much to keep it there.
The sensation was spectacular, unique, and eating away at him. Alfred doesn't dare speak these words, instead opts to hang his mouth open with the sudden feeling of an atmospheric pressure to breathe.
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