Alllll 5 ;) 1/2afiawriJanuary 10 2011, 07:50:26 UTC
Peter’s fingers are on his hips. Peter’s playing with his cock, his cock that’s come for Peter three times today, come untouched, come while wrapped up tight in a cock ring, come with a bare dribble of come; Peter’s cock is inside him. Peter’s inside him, and Neal’s on top and somehow he has to find the energy to process all these sensations and still ride Peter. Has to think beyond Peter’s touch which hurts so fucking much it’s crossed back into pleasure with still an underlying feeling of maybe he should ask Peter to stop. But the thing is he can’t. It would hurt more to stop. A brief flare and then it would be over, but- but if he sticks with it, it ends in longer, mind blowing pleasure and deep, blissful sleep and Peter’s praise.
He stares dazedly at Peter. His hips rise and fall, not nearly enough. As much as his cock hurts, his rim hurts more, so much more. He’s had every toy that can be stuffed inside him up there today, had his rim stretched around vibrators, but those were last, pushing at the edge of his hole with that constant, small motion that was anything but gentle. The hard edges of those vibrators banging against him. And now Peter’s cock slides past and it almost feels like he’s bruised because he’s been stuffed full and emptied, stuffed full and made to come and emptied and made to come and stuffed full again and he barely know where he is anymore except that he’s sitting on Peter and supposed to rise up and fall down, stuff himself full of Peter’s cock over and over again.
Trembling, he manages one. One more push up and collapse, his legs giving out under him. But it was a good one. One. Peter strokes his cock, says something, but Neal can’t hear it under his, “PLEASE. Please, Peter, I can’t take anymore.”
He does hear Peter’s, “Are you sure?”
He lets go of the urge to move, to talk, to process what he’s feeling so he can assess. “No.” His voice wobbles. And Peter’s stare his steady, saying he knows the answer. And the answer is he hasn’t let go of Neal’s cock. The answer is Neal can take more. Not much more, not much at all. Just as much as Peter intends to give him.
Neal closes his eyes and he’s nothing but the hole spasming around Peter’s cock in a vague up and down direction. His eyes feel hot. Not as hot as cock, it feels like it’s on fire, Peter keeps adding lube but there’s just not enough and there’s not even precome anymore. But his eyes leak just fine on there own. “Please. Please. Please.”
He doesn’t know what he wants, but somehow Peter does. Peter knows he needs a hand around his balls, pulling up and relaxing down. Making the pain from not moving sharper than the pain of moving. Making the abrasive slide of Peter’s cock preferable to the pain that hasn’t become a part of him. His hole hurts, that’s how it is. But his balls have been mostly comfortable until now and that horrible spark of pain urges Neal on even though, “Please, Peter, please.” And, “Too fast.” And, “Hurts.” But never, ever, “No more.”
Peter’s cock, it feels like he can feel every vein and ridge of it as it slides in, like his rim is fitted precisely around it, the maximum friction possible, the most pain. The most extreme end of Neal’s endurance. And yet he keeps going even though Peter’s released his balls. Peter’s bucking under him, obviously enjoying himself from the sounds coming from his lips.
And then, just once, Neal manages a whole sentence. “Peter, I can’t… I can’t make myself anymore.” He keeps going, hoping Peter believes him. He doesn’t even have the energy to stop.
Peter guides him off and down onto the bed. He spreads Neal wide open, feet planted so far apart it’s hard to breathe with the way it moves his chest. Neal’s arms are above his head because that’s where they fell and Neal’s not moving them. His eyes shift restlessly, catching on a tear-blurred Peter and smiling vaguely.
And then Peter’s in him again and that’s so much faster than Neal was going, so fast it’s not the shape of Peter’s cock hurting him, it’s the force of it. It’s not his rim hurting, it’s his entire hole.
Alllll 5 ;) 2/2afiawriJanuary 10 2011, 07:50:44 UTC
Neal’s arms fly up with just enough energy to scramble at Peter’s shoulders. “Wha’, Peeeter.”
Peter drags him closer until the arches of his feet are braced against the very edge of the mattress and Neal’s ass hangs in the air and all he can do is stare in the direction of Peter’s eyes and cry and let bubble out of his mouth whatever disjointed syllables his mind has left.
He shivers. He clenches in a vague way, all his strength gone. Peter pounds into him, pistons into him. Neal’s come thrice. Peter hasn’t come at all and maybe it’s been too long because Peter is shaking him apart under him and somehow he hasn’t finished.
Neal’s arms fall to his sides and he just watches, distant from the pain. Peter speeds up, aroused by that or trying to shake Neal out of it, he doesn’t know.
The first hot spurt of come is a surprise. Neal had given up on Peter coming, had given up on relief from this until Peter- the most stubborn man he knows- gave up.
Neal doesn’t react other than to smile vaguely and close his eyes, enjoying the warmth inside without the solidness of a cock, though that’s there still too. And then there’s a hand on his cock.
His burning, aching cock just as his hole’s beating finally stops and there’s only residual pain, finally fading, his sadistic FBI agent is trying to strangle his cock, is ruining it because there’s no way it can recover from all this abuse.
And then Peter’s pulling out and his hole feels empty and somehow that’s not as good as he thought it would be.
But Peter’s lips around his cock are better then he could’ve imagined.
They find the last vestiges of pleasure and coax it out of him. The wetness mutes the agony long enough to trick his cock into trying to come a fourth time. Long enough for his cock to twitch in Peter’s mouth with an orgasm so dry, so painful that Neal screams.
And the most intense sex of his life ends with Neal curled up in a ball, the pain fading but spiking randomly. But at least the urge to keep going has faded entirely. But pain.
And then Peter lies down behind him and draws Neal into his arms. And tells him, “I love weekends. Two days off,” reminding Neal that Peter will be here when he wakes up, which is a warming thought, but also that he’s to spend the night recovering because Peter wakes up with an erection every morning without fail.
Re: Alllll 5 ;) 2/2zalman23January 10 2011, 13:50:23 UTC
OH MY HOLY F*CKING GOD! YOU! ARE! UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE! You managed to fit all five of them in one fic! And above all, PERFECTLY! And in like two hours!!! You’re like this SPEED-DEMON-GODDESS that answers all my prayers and fills all my desires, EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM! This is BEYOND DELICIOUS! It’s an explosion of hotness! And yet there’s this sweetness that made it so much moooore than a steamingly hot fuck. I worship you my lady! I just love love love Neal being pushed oh so far but still longing for more, and, --expecting more. This meme thing should totally happen everyday!
He stares dazedly at Peter. His hips rise and fall, not nearly enough. As much as his cock hurts, his rim hurts more, so much more. He’s had every toy that can be stuffed inside him up there today, had his rim stretched around vibrators, but those were last, pushing at the edge of his hole with that constant, small motion that was anything but gentle. The hard edges of those vibrators banging against him. And now Peter’s cock slides past and it almost feels like he’s bruised because he’s been stuffed full and emptied, stuffed full and made to come and emptied and made to come and stuffed full again and he barely know where he is anymore except that he’s sitting on Peter and supposed to rise up and fall down, stuff himself full of Peter’s cock over and over again.
Trembling, he manages one. One more push up and collapse, his legs giving out under him. But it was a good one. One. Peter strokes his cock, says something, but Neal can’t hear it under his, “PLEASE. Please, Peter, I can’t take anymore.”
He does hear Peter’s, “Are you sure?”
He lets go of the urge to move, to talk, to process what he’s feeling so he can assess. “No.” His voice wobbles. And Peter’s stare his steady, saying he knows the answer. And the answer is he hasn’t let go of Neal’s cock. The answer is Neal can take more. Not much more, not much at all. Just as much as Peter intends to give him.
Neal closes his eyes and he’s nothing but the hole spasming around Peter’s cock in a vague up and down direction. His eyes feel hot. Not as hot as cock, it feels like it’s on fire, Peter keeps adding lube but there’s just not enough and there’s not even precome anymore. But his eyes leak just fine on there own. “Please. Please. Please.”
He doesn’t know what he wants, but somehow Peter does. Peter knows he needs a hand around his balls, pulling up and relaxing down. Making the pain from not moving sharper than the pain of moving. Making the abrasive slide of Peter’s cock preferable to the pain that hasn’t become a part of him. His hole hurts, that’s how it is. But his balls have been mostly comfortable until now and that horrible spark of pain urges Neal on even though, “Please, Peter, please.” And, “Too fast.” And, “Hurts.” But never, ever, “No more.”
Peter’s cock, it feels like he can feel every vein and ridge of it as it slides in, like his rim is fitted precisely around it, the maximum friction possible, the most pain. The most extreme end of Neal’s endurance. And yet he keeps going even though Peter’s released his balls. Peter’s bucking under him, obviously enjoying himself from the sounds coming from his lips.
And then, just once, Neal manages a whole sentence. “Peter, I can’t… I can’t make myself anymore.” He keeps going, hoping Peter believes him. He doesn’t even have the energy to stop.
Peter guides him off and down onto the bed. He spreads Neal wide open, feet planted so far apart it’s hard to breathe with the way it moves his chest. Neal’s arms are above his head because that’s where they fell and Neal’s not moving them. His eyes shift restlessly, catching on a tear-blurred Peter and smiling vaguely.
And then Peter’s in him again and that’s so much faster than Neal was going, so fast it’s not the shape of Peter’s cock hurting him, it’s the force of it. It’s not his rim hurting, it’s his entire hole.
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Peter drags him closer until the arches of his feet are braced against the very edge of the mattress and Neal’s ass hangs in the air and all he can do is stare in the direction of Peter’s eyes and cry and let bubble out of his mouth whatever disjointed syllables his mind has left.
He shivers. He clenches in a vague way, all his strength gone. Peter pounds into him, pistons into him. Neal’s come thrice. Peter hasn’t come at all and maybe it’s been too long because Peter is shaking him apart under him and somehow he hasn’t finished.
Neal’s arms fall to his sides and he just watches, distant from the pain. Peter speeds up, aroused by that or trying to shake Neal out of it, he doesn’t know.
The first hot spurt of come is a surprise. Neal had given up on Peter coming, had given up on relief from this until Peter- the most stubborn man he knows- gave up.
Neal doesn’t react other than to smile vaguely and close his eyes, enjoying the warmth inside without the solidness of a cock, though that’s there still too. And then there’s a hand on his cock.
His burning, aching cock just as his hole’s beating finally stops and there’s only residual pain, finally fading, his sadistic FBI agent is trying to strangle his cock, is ruining it because there’s no way it can recover from all this abuse.
And then Peter’s pulling out and his hole feels empty and somehow that’s not as good as he thought it would be.
But Peter’s lips around his cock are better then he could’ve imagined.
They find the last vestiges of pleasure and coax it out of him. The wetness mutes the agony long enough to trick his cock into trying to come a fourth time. Long enough for his cock to twitch in Peter’s mouth with an orgasm so dry, so painful that Neal screams.
And the most intense sex of his life ends with Neal curled up in a ball, the pain fading but spiking randomly. But at least the urge to keep going has faded entirely. But pain.
And then Peter lies down behind him and draws Neal into his arms. And tells him, “I love weekends. Two days off,” reminding Neal that Peter will be here when he wakes up, which is a warming thought, but also that he’s to spend the night recovering because Peter wakes up with an erection every morning without fail.
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YOU! ARE! UN-FREAKING-BELIEVABLE!
You managed to fit all five of them in one fic! And above all, PERFECTLY!
And in like two hours!!!
You’re like this SPEED-DEMON-GODDESS that answers all my prayers and fills all my desires, EACH AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!
This is BEYOND DELICIOUS! It’s an explosion of hotness! And yet there’s this sweetness that made it so much moooore than a steamingly hot fuck.
I worship you my lady!
I just love love love Neal being pushed oh so far but still longing for more, and, --expecting more.
This meme thing should totally happen everyday!
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And yes, we need more of this meme, def'ly!
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