You Can't Refuse A Frenchman Forever [7/9]
anonymous
May 30 2009, 13:11:57 UTC
"We need lube," Arthur panted, as ran his hands down Francis' sides, delighting in the little shivers he felt quake throughout the older man, even as his own body shuddered. Needy, horny or not so much so, Arthur knew better than to continue without it (it was one of the few things he and Francis usually agreed on).
Francis groaned and arched his back, adding more pressure to Arthur's already burning groin and unfastened his lips from Arthur's neck. His burning breath washed over the Arthur's chin, "Arthur, please."
Arthur shook his head, even as his hands slid around Francis' hips. Damned the bastard and his bloody sexual know-how! He gave Francis' rump a squeeze and pinch, "Lube. Now." It was difficult plucking those few words from his fuzzy brain. Almost more so than releasing the taller man.
Francis huffed irritably, but moved off him. Arthur watched as the Frenchman spun on his knees, bunching the duvet under them, and leant over the side of the bed.
Arthur had been sure to keep the lube under his bed, in a conspicuous box marked, "PRIVATE: KEEP OUT". It had been a joined decision by both him and Francis, after one of them had accidentally closed Francis' bedside drawer on the other's fingers. More than ever, Arthur found himself glad he'd come up with the idea; Francis was giving him the most mouth watering, blood boiling view of his bare arse. He could even see the little ring he'd soon be inhabiting...
He hardly noticed as Francis' French cursing came to a sudden halt when Arthur's hands cupped both cheeks and squeezed again, as he knelt behind him. What a lovely rump. He had the unfathomable urge to bite it - so he did.
"If I didn't know better, cheri, I would think you did this on purpose."
He grunted in reply, too busy lathing attention to Francis' back and thighs to care what the arse said. He sat up, pressing himself flat against the Frenchman's back. God, he was just as hot as Arthur felt. He huffed and pressed his now sweating forehead between Francis' shoulder blades. Francis was pressing back against him, wiggling and writhing.
"Have you found it?"
"You're being very distracting..." Francis panted, as Arthur's hands slid up the man's thighs, grazed his cock and flowed up his stomach to pinch at his nipples.
Arthur licked his lips, "That's no excuse," Especially because Francis had been all that and more over the passed three weeks. That day with the ice cream in particular came to mind - Arthur let himself smirk, kissed Francis' back and sat on his heels. His hands slipped down his larger body until they were cupping Francis' hips.
There was a heady scent of musk and roses gracing Francis' entire body. But Arthur discovered that like with every time before, the musk overpowered Francis' soap between his legs. He pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to the skin just behind his lover's balls, his own arousal spiking at the immediate long, husky moan and hasty scrabble and bang he heard after it. He nipped there, before he slipped his tongue over and around Francis' smooth balls, then back up -
Suddenly Francis was centimetres away again, there was a pop and Arthur was hit in the nose with a tube of lube. His mouth twisted into an angry scowl, but before he could ask what the hell Francis was thinking (and growl several ungentlemanly things), the Frenchman was kneeling at the head of the bed with his arse in the air and his fingers in his arse -
Arthur forgot how to breathe.
Oh God... He thought to himself. Oh fuck, bugger, bloody hell...
Francis' face was tinted pink, his eyes seemingly darker under his half closed lids.
"Je t'en prie, inside me now, Arthur-" He choked, his eyes clenching shut as his back arched and his long, glistening fingers stilled momentarily. Francis shuddered when they moved, "Ah, oh!"
"Fuck, Francis..." Arthur found himself muttering without meaning to.
His cock throbbed between his legs, his hands seemingly swollen big as he grabbed the lube and hastily coated his palm with it. It was frigid against his burning flesh, nearly painfully so as he applied it hastily.
Francis groaned and arched his back, adding more pressure to Arthur's already burning groin and unfastened his lips from Arthur's neck. His burning breath washed over the Arthur's chin, "Arthur, please."
Arthur shook his head, even as his hands slid around Francis' hips. Damned the bastard and his bloody sexual know-how! He gave Francis' rump a squeeze and pinch, "Lube. Now." It was difficult plucking those few words from his fuzzy brain. Almost more so than releasing the taller man.
Francis huffed irritably, but moved off him. Arthur watched as the Frenchman spun on his knees, bunching the duvet under them, and leant over the side of the bed.
Arthur had been sure to keep the lube under his bed, in a conspicuous box marked, "PRIVATE: KEEP OUT". It had been a joined decision by both him and Francis, after one of them had accidentally closed Francis' bedside drawer on the other's fingers. More than ever, Arthur found himself glad he'd come up with the idea; Francis was giving him the most mouth watering, blood boiling view of his bare arse. He could even see the little ring he'd soon be inhabiting...
He hardly noticed as Francis' French cursing came to a sudden halt when Arthur's hands cupped both cheeks and squeezed again, as he knelt behind him. What a lovely rump. He had the unfathomable urge to bite it - so he did.
"If I didn't know better, cheri, I would think you did this on purpose."
He grunted in reply, too busy lathing attention to Francis' back and thighs to care what the arse said. He sat up, pressing himself flat against the Frenchman's back. God, he was just as hot as Arthur felt. He huffed and pressed his now sweating forehead between Francis' shoulder blades. Francis was pressing back against him, wiggling and writhing.
"Have you found it?"
"You're being very distracting..." Francis panted, as Arthur's hands slid up the man's thighs, grazed his cock and flowed up his stomach to pinch at his nipples.
Arthur licked his lips, "That's no excuse," Especially because Francis had been all that and more over the passed three weeks. That day with the ice cream in particular came to mind - Arthur let himself smirk, kissed Francis' back and sat on his heels. His hands slipped down his larger body until they were cupping Francis' hips.
There was a heady scent of musk and roses gracing Francis' entire body. But Arthur discovered that like with every time before, the musk overpowered Francis' soap between his legs. He pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to the skin just behind his lover's balls, his own arousal spiking at the immediate long, husky moan and hasty scrabble and bang he heard after it. He nipped there, before he slipped his tongue over and around Francis' smooth balls, then back up -
Suddenly Francis was centimetres away again, there was a pop and Arthur was hit in the nose with a tube of lube. His mouth twisted into an angry scowl, but before he could ask what the hell Francis was thinking (and growl several ungentlemanly things), the Frenchman was kneeling at the head of the bed with his arse in the air and his fingers in his arse -
Arthur forgot how to breathe.
Oh God... He thought to himself. Oh fuck, bugger, bloody hell...
Francis' face was tinted pink, his eyes seemingly darker under his half closed lids.
"Je t'en prie, inside me now, Arthur-" He choked, his eyes clenching shut as his back arched and his long, glistening fingers stilled momentarily. Francis shuddered when they moved, "Ah, oh!"
"Fuck, Francis..." Arthur found himself muttering without meaning to.
His cock throbbed between his legs, his hands seemingly swollen big as he grabbed the lube and hastily coated his palm with it. It was frigid against his burning flesh, nearly painfully so as he applied it hastily.
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