Lessons | By : Xax Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy IX Views: 1284 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I have no legal ownership of Final Fantasy IX, nor any of the characters used, nor am I selling this work for profit. So there. |
Author's Note: So uh. Hey.
I resolved, not that long ago, to write less fic that was just on my big long list of "fic pairings I wish people would write" and instead write more fic that was, well, 100% pure fetish wank material. Soooo, here we are. And apparently some of my fetishes are so out there that not even AFFN has a tag for them. The "Other" tag means the fic contains the following things I consider worth warning about: asphyxiation and vomiting. There's no death associated with the asphyxiation and the vomiting isn't, like, onto anyone, for what it's worth. Also, there are absurdly large dicks with absurdly copious orgasms, but that is pretty much a standby of what I write at this point.
I realize it's kind of ridiculous to feel nervous about posting this considering some of the other stuff I've posted, but, well, I do. I have some weird turn-ons! And that's okay. I'm okay with that. I'm a little less okay with sharing all the deep crevices of my dirty brain with the entire internet though... although see the start of this paragraph; it's a little silly considering I already do.
Also I didn't really edit this as much as I probably should have, so uh if you see any incoherent parts I'd really like it if you pointed them out to me.
I think I should stop rambling while I'm ahead (or only this far behind) and just get on with the porn now.
Treno was a boring town. Half of it was slums: a bunch of rat-warren tunnels with shacks sprouting off, by the riverside; the other half was rich estates, higher up, huge rough rock buildings with gardens and plazas. Between the two of them there was always enough work, but none of it was ever interesting. The only thing that kept him here, instead of Alexandria or Lindblum or even Burmecia was that the watch was useless. Depending on the night, it was either a bunch of rowdy low-lifes or some inexperienced lordlings. It made bounty-hunting a lot easier, especially when the one doing the hunting had a pretty hefty price on his head as well.
So for Amarant it was a passable town, the least bad of a few awful options. He had a serviceable house, under a bridge by the river's edge, with an ever-burning lamp outside his bedroom window. He didn't have to hide himself, even with the posters of his profile and bounty tacked up in all the bars; everyone either knew well enough not to mess with him or didn't stand a chance in hell of actually catching him.
Which brought him to tonight: no bounties worth his while, just useless pick-pocketing small fry, and he had the urge to commit some violence bubbling under his skin. Treno was well known for its brawls, but all he had to do to put a stop to one was wade in with his knuckles bare before everyone would realize they had other commitments than getting beaten to a pulp.
He was actually deigning to go after one of the small fry, with some absolutely pathetic number under his portrait, a fleetfoot who'd been pickpocketing on the rich side of town. He was a Burmecian, not many of those in town to begin with, and from just the awful sketches of his face on the poster it was easy to see he was a particularly scrawny one, with short scruffy hair that radiated out behind him like a dandelion puff and a perpetual smirk.
The one good thing about chasing down Burmecians was that they took to the rooftops, using their strong legs to hop around like no human could ever hope to follow. It was always a challenge to track them like that, leaping and bounding across the rooftops to match. But even at that, the guy was failing: he moved well enough, but he was loud, and all Amarant had to do was follow the trail of broken shingles, not that he even had to do that anymore, since he'd sighted the Burmecian a good hour ago and let him know he was being followed. The chase was the best part, and if he was letting himself flag a little to draw it out longer, well, no one would have to know that except for him.
He alit on the edge of one of the more solid shanties, one that had been a reputable building once, and leapt off again in an instant. The Burmecian had abandoned the rooftops and gone to ground in the most literal fashion, and he could see his dark silhouette against the cobblestones as he ducked into a narrow backalley. At this point it was over with already; maybe he was trying to get into the undercity or maybe he was just tired, but no matter what he was trying Amarant was finally close enough to end things.
He dropped down directly in front of him, swinging from one of the overhanging eaves, and the Burmecian, the posters said he went by "Dan", started back in surprise. Yeah, the portrait had done him justice. He looked scruffy, like all Burmecians, really, but he was a lot scruffier than usual— his fur was spiked up in all directions, thin and patchy in places. Thick scars ran across his body, further interrupting his uneven fur with lumpy, bare lines. He was scrawny, too. It looked like he hadn't eaten well in a long time, and with each breath the hull of his ribcage became visible through his scarce fur. All he was wearing was a pair of ragged pants, too loose on his thin frame, and they'd obviously been too long on him before; the cuffs had been torn off completely, and the fabric there was frayed and ragged.
He didn't seem to mind Amarant looking him over; he curled his lip up in a sneer and picked between his yellowed teeth with the tip of his dagger. Amarant narrowed his eyes.
"So you're the one who's been chasing me," he said with a growl in his voice, "The Flaming Amarant, right? I know I've been beat," he said with a smirk. "But we could work something out. I could pay my bounty twice over, if you just—" he said, cut off when Amarant punched him solidly on the jaw, hard enough he staggered back against the alley wall. He had his claws on, but only on one hand— he wanted to drag things out for a while.
Amarant grabbed at his shoulders before he recovered, almost casually slamming his hand against the wall and forcing his dagger from his fingers. It hit the ground with a clang, but before it had even stilled Amarant had dragged him back against the other wall, into a dim alcove, barely two shoulder's-width wide and deep. "Don't insult me," Amarant said with a growl, satisfied to see Dan tremble as he locked his hands back. "I won't be bought off for a pittance."
"Four! No, six times!" he squeaked out. "Or more! I have many valuable things, I'm sure we could come to an understanding—" but this time he just stopped abruptly when Amarant growled at him.
"I didn't find you for the money," he practically spat. He slammed Dan back against the wall again, and the blades on his right hand sung when they scraped against the wall an inch from Dan's head. "You ran well enough for a rat, but now I've caught you. Don't think you can bribe me out of it."
"I— I don't want to bribe you," Dan said, hurriedly, "But you're the Amarant, right, and I know people say—"
"And what do they say about the Flaming Amarant, huh?" he said with a leer, his huge hands splayed across Dan's shoulder.
Dan looked at him, clearly afraid. "They say you like hurting people. Or hunting them. They say you chop people up for the fun of it. Or you start fights just 'cause you get off on it." He gulped, "And you've been caught with your pants down in alleys fucking bounties more times than anyone can count." All of which was more-or-less true, but of course no one ever said it to his face.
"I can think of some things I'd rather do than chop you up," Amarant said with a sneer, groping at his cock. "Been a while since I've gotten laid."
Dan didn't even look surprised, just looked at it him with that smirk that made him want to hurt him. "I figured you'd be into weird shit," Dan said, punctuated by a groan as Amarant felt across his chest and pinched at his nipples, broad and stiff under his fur.
"You seen me before?" He kept working at them for a second, until Dan's dazed expression made him realize he was really liking it.
"Saw your bounty posters," Dan said with a hitch in his breath as Amarant ground against him. "Like everyone else. You're hot." He let out a nervous breath, like the first half of a laugh. "In person, too. And scary."
"Shouldn't compliment me by saying I look good to a rat," Amarant said gruffly. "Get on your knees."
Dan sunk down slowly, keeping their gaze locked together until his knees finally hit the cobblestones, his head just about level with Amarant's crotch.
"Hold out your hands," Amarant said as he unbuckled his belt. Dan did, a little slowly, and he yanked them back behind his back and tied his belt around his forearms, tight, before pushing him back, toppling him against the further wall in the small space. Between Dan's splayed legs he could see a bulge in his ragged pants, big enough it looked like he was hard already. Dan's gaze darted back and forth between his face and his hands, tugging at the lacing of his pants. He was half-hard just from the physical contact, and Dan stared at the growing bulge until he finally jerked his laces loose enough to let his cock jut out, hanging half-hard between his loose coattails.
He pulled Dan's head forward, so his muzzle bumped against his cock, his head pressed against one thigh. "Lick it," he said, but Dan had already opened his mouth, his tongue darting out to lap at his skin.
Amarant let him go so he could ruck up his shirt, pulling the entire loose thing off one arm, gathering it all across his shoulder and one arm, out of the way as he thrust his cock forward across Dan's face.
He let out a low grunt as Dan sucked the tip of his cock into his mouth, lapping at the tip, still covered with his foreskin. Amarant held his jaw open and thrust deeper, grunting lowly as Dan tried to give him a slobbery blowjob, his tongue practically coiled around his cock until he pulled back with a slurp and started stroking it himself.
"I'm gonna come in your mouth, and you're gonna swallow it," he said, his cock already fully hard. He shoved Dan back again, until he was lying back against the wall, and stroked his cock just barely above his face, sometimes colliding with his lips.
Amarant panted as he jerked himself off. Dan's breath was hot and wet against the underside of his shaft, and his tongue kept darting out across his knuckles, once licking across his cockhead like a bolt of lightning. He huffed, considering grabbing Dan's head and grinding it across his cock, pressing his sweaty balls up against his cheek as he fucked his face. He grunted again, a few drops of precome dripping down into Dan's mouth, who moaned.
He was close to coming, he could feel it swell up inside him, but just as he was nearing the point of no return he felt something heavy and wet and hot slap against his legs, and he jolted back, skittish. Dan had managed to un-knot his pants somehow even with his hands tied behind his back; they were bagging down around his knees.
His cock was hanging out, across his body, and it was enormously, gigantically oversized, especially on his scrawny frame. It was as thick— thicker— as one of his thin, bony arms, and almost as long. Amarant shifted back in surprise, half standing up over him, and that was enough for him to see Dan's wormy tail wrapped around the base of it, coiling tighter and looser like a snake.
His balls were even more absurd, so huge around Dan couldn't have been able to grab them one-handed— hell, he couldn't have held one of them in his hand. He felt his mouth drop open at it, and a half-second later Dan let out another breathy moan and a rope of come that looked as thick as his finger pelted out of his huge, swollen cockhead and shot across the patchy fur on his neck. He arched his hips up and Amarant shied back as his bloated, slick shaft pressed up against his cock, leaving behind wet streaks of his precome.
Like his mind had been completely blown out of his body, leaving it to fend for himself, he found himself watching as he braced one hand on the wall Dan was slumped against and leaned forward until his cock was right against his lips again, his right hand frantically jerking as the splatter of Dan coming sounded below him, wet streams of come shooting in messy arcs against his chest and neck, splattering up against his face and hanging in messy lines from the underside of Amarant's cock. It was hot and slippery against his hand, and it squelched between his fingers as he stroked. His breath pounded in his lungs and he felt his lips moving as he exhaled, mouthing words he didn't even know he was saying.
He shot off maybe the hardest he'd ever in his life; the first spurt blasted past Dan's face entirely to hit the wall over him, and he shot off again just as forcefully, his come just barely roping across his scraggly hair until he aimed down with a snarl and caught him right across the face with the rest of his load. His come webbed across his fur lightly, painting his face in long streaks, still coming across his narrow muzzle even when it felt like his balls were empty, pulled up tight against the base of his shaft as he kept stroking on autopilot, his hand wet and slick with his come.
He almost collapsed forward onto him when he finally ran dry, a final pulse that eked a final fat drop. He wiped it across Dan's face, grinding his come into his fur, and looked down at him with a tired grin. Dan's tongue snaked out and lapped at his cockhead and his whole body rocked like he'd been electrocuted, his cock proving it a lie when it twitched again and shot another string of come into his mouth, gaping open as he groaned.
"G-gonna come," Dan said, muffled and almost incomprehensible with his cockhead stretching out his lips, against the inside of his cheek.
Amarant knelt back, his legs sagging beneath him as he crashed back against the far wall, his dazed and fuzzy post-orgasm mind dimly looking at the huge mess of come across Dan's chest that completely dwarfed his own load, splattered in wet streaks across his face. Dan was still jerking himself off as he came, come pelting out of him in thick ropes that seemed too heavy to do anything aside from sluggishly spurt on his chest. His fur was completely matted down across his chest, practically immersed in his come as he just kept coming and coming.
Except then he cried out, surprised and loud, and came. His rat-line tail finally stopped its writhing and clutched down tight around the base of his cock, making the rest of it flare out even huger, engorged with trapped blood. Dan let out a shriek like he was getting murdered as his cock swelled up, his pointy, tapered cockhead flaring out almost like an umbrella as a huge blast of come shot out, like the biggest hose in the world with someone's thumb over the end.
Come sprayed in absolutely every direction, most of it focused down on Dan, but with a spray of it coated the walls and splattered against Amarant's open shirt and bare chest, painting his pants with white spots that quickly turned dark and glossy. Dan's yells became muffled abruptly as his come shot across his face, absolutely burying his body in his load.
And he kept coming, that just the first blast of many more. His cock jerked and thumped, bobbing up and down wildly from the sheer recoil of ejaculation, further spraying his come in every direction. There were audible soggy gushing sounds, even over the splatter of his come hitting the walls, as it flowed over Dan's twitching body and pooled on the cobblestones below.
The wet glug of his orgasm just continued on what seemed like forever. Even after the huge wet spurts subsided his cock kept twitching and pelting out bolts of come across his chest and face, each spurt a little smaller than the one before but not by much. Like he wasn't even the one doing it, Amarant felt himself grab his cock, half-hard and somehow already stiffening again, and jerk it back and forth. His palm was covered in Dan's load already, he realized with the wet squish of his strokes, and that somehow, perversely, made his cock stiffen further.
He was already achingly hard, his balls churning as they slapped back against his body with each stroke, and before he was even aware of what he was doing he had leaned forward, straddling the come-covered mess of Dan's body, his cock aimed right at his face. Dan noticed, even in the middle of his never-ending orgasm, and opened his mouth wide. Flappy ropes of come drooled down the side of his muzzle at that, and already there was a pool of come in the back of his mouth, deep enough to slosh as Dan angled his head forward, his lips just barely brushing against Amarant's cockhead.
It was the most abrupt orgasm of his life, but suddenly Amarant found himself just coming again, the second time in not even five minutes, heavy strings of come shooting into Dan's mouth and across his lips, already stick and shiny with his own come. He jerked on his cock desperately, grunting and panting as he came, and almost collapsed onto Dan's filthy frame afterwards, onto his still-spurting cock, messy wet burbles of come drooling in a thick, solid pile on his chest.
He felt himself tip forward, about to actually fall down on top of Dan, and only a sudden lurch that skinned his knuckles on the wall beside him kept him from it. He stared down at Dan still lying there, sprawled out. His ratty tail was wound tightly around his bulging cock and absurdly huge balls like some kind of perverse knotwork, and as he just leaned against the wall and stared Dan slowly unwound it and twisted it tightly around his cock, curling it back and forth like a constricting snake.
The final wet gel of Dan's load looked solid, like some kind of obscene pudding, and even as he thought that Dan reached up with one trembling arm to shove the heavy mass off his chest, more of his come going with it, all of it tethered together by thick, slimy ropes. He sat up, fresh come still running down his cock, and stared at Amarant, his pants still spread open and his half-hard cock hanging out, splattered with both their loads. Dan swallowed, thickly, and licked his lips, and Amarant found himself staring down at Dan as he swallowed again, drinking down they'd shot all across his face.
Amarant came to himself with what felt like a rushing wind blowing through him. He glared down at Dan, both of them still breathing hard.
"Well," he started, and had to take a breath. "I guess we'll be even for now." Dan practically snarled at him, baring his pointy, ratty teeth. He turned away abruptly, refusing to actually run away so much as walk purposefully in another direction, even if he cock was still hanging out the front of his pants. He stuffed it back in and laced them up as well as he could, sparing the briefest glance back to Dan, shaking standing up, a visible pool of come surrounding him, gleaming white in the moonlight. His cock gave a little lurch, stiffening into turgidity as he felt back; Dan's lips against his cock, the filthy, rank smell of Dan's come spraying across them both, his own mind-blowing orgasm.
His legs still felt weak; he could walk without stumbling but there was no way he could take the rooftops back to his place, not tonight.
He was all the way back to his house, and busy trying to not think about jerking off, by the time he realized he'd left his belt with Dan.
It was looking to be another tedious, boring night. There were no bounties posted, aside from his own, and no one was dumb enough to try that, either. What he wanted was a brawl, one that he'd come out bruised and bloodied and on top of the heap, and then maybe he could go off with whichever one of the losers was most pliable and fuck 'em. Even the fucking bar was almost empty, not even enough people for a proper house-wrecking fight. The bartender was probably happy about that, at least; he'd been eying Amarant with a worried expression since he got there.
He was getting pretty drunk, and dimly considering yelling for food, when the thump and squeak of the door swinging open caught his attention. It took a second for his eyes to focus properly, but when they did he just grinned and made an uneven beeline to the door.
"Hey," he said, and grabbed Dan by the lapels. "C'mere."
Dan looked surprised and presumably worried, but Amarant was already dragging him with a loose grip to a back room, quiet and almost deserted, and then into a narrow, dark hallway off from there.
Dan twitched in his grasp, so he hoisted him close, growling in his ear. "I said, come the fuck here," he said, but even to his ears it sounded like a long, inarticulate grumble. Whatever, at least Dan stilled and let him drag him back into the darkness of the hallway.
The narrow hallway was only a few feet wide. There were shallow doorways filled with equally narrow doors spaced evenly along the hall. It was very dark; there were no lights in the hall and the lanterns in the main room didn't reach back into the hallway.
He pulled Dan to the back, to the narrow disused back steps to the upper level. Dan stumbled at first, like he hadn't expected steps, but followed him up. He stopped halfway up the steps, between floors.
It was pitch black; the faintest light filtered up from downstairs. He looked over to where Dan must have been, only really capable of telling where he was by his grasp on his wrist and the general heat and sound that meant a living presence, even in the dark.
Amarant slid his hand up across his elbow, mussing the fur along his arm, all the way to his upper arm, until his hand was half under his tunic sleeves. He shifted forward, hearing a set of disconnected sounds that must have been Dan falling back against the far wall of the narrow steps. He leaned closer to pin him to the wall; he grasped at the railing by his hip with his free hand, penning him in.
He pressed against Dan's body, all bones with the barest covering of muscle. Their knees knocked together just a fraction of a moment before his upper arm pressed against Dan's shoulder. He stooped down to match their heights, and so he could press his lips across his neck. He pushed Dan's arm up, pinning it to the wall, unable to repress a grin as he did so.
He pressed a light kiss against his clavicle, sliding up to press a heavier, open-mouthed kiss against the underside of his muzzle. Dan started back, probably banging the back of his head against the wall, and Amarant pulled back as well, grinning wide and somewhat toothily.
"I wanna make you come," he said, low and kind of loose, slurring from the booze. "Right here," he added, so he was sure Dan understood. He was going to say something else, but he lost his train of thought as he pushed against Dan, rubbing his face against the short fur across his neck. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be doing this if he wasn't drunk; he wanted to get Dan on his knees and make him suck him off, but right now he wanted to get on his knees a lot more. He nipped at his jaw, his hands fumbling across his belt. He shoved his pants down, already reaching in with one hand to cup his sheath and run his fingers across his huge balls.
He sunk forward, like his legs were giving out on him, and slid down Dan's body until his left knee clunked loudly on the steps. He almost toppled over, and his right knee came down on the next lower step. He felt lopsided, his hair hanging down at an angle as he tilted, trying to find a good pose. Dan's dick jutted out from his body, only the stubby tip exposed, a bulge outwards from his crotch.
He knew it was a bright, disgusting red-pink, but all its colour was lost in the darkness, only the slightest shape visible. He licked across the longer fur just above it, tasting sweat and dirt and a rank animal musk. He worked his huge hands around his sheath and jerked it like it was a dick. His balls jounced slowly below, and he brought a hand down to attempt to cup one of the immense things. Each one was huge, as big as his head, and lopsided like a bean.
Dan's dick jutted out, minutely sliding further as Amarant licked across it. He took the whole thick bulge in his mouth and sucked loudly, working his lips around the thick shaft. Dan let out a shaky gasp and thrust forward as he grabbed at Amarant's dreads, shoving him forward until his nose ground against the soggy fur above his crotch. His beard scratched against his thighs as he bobbed back and forth. Dan's dick slid out of his sheath fast, until almost all of its huge length was out, half-hard and heavy, flaccid, but still almost as long as a man's arm. Amarant had to draw back as it spilled out, after Dan ground his head down and the tip pressed against the back of his mouth. He coughed wetly against the back of his hand as his cock popped from his mouth.
He stroked Dan's long, thick dick, his flesh limp and spongy but stiffening, already slippery with Amarant's spit. He took it into his mouth again, opening wide. His lips fit around it, but the absurd girth of it forced him to open wide in a perpetual yawn to keep his teeth away. And it was still half-hard; not as thick as it would be soon.
The tip of it pushed against the back of his mouth, leaking out thin, slippery fluid tastelessly down his throat. He inhaled in a rush and leaned forward, blocking his airway with Dan's dick, sending it down his throat. He swallowed around it, a wet gulping slurp escaping from his mouth as he pursed his lips around the shaft.
His face was already flushed from the booze; he could feel the heat on his face, but he heated up as he choked on the cock. He tried to inhale, automatically, and that just increased the suction and pulled him deeper, his wet, slick flesh sinking further into his mouth and expanding to hardness in his throat.
Amarant pulled off again with a wet slurp, gasping and choking as what he had in his mouth emerged. Thick, clear strands of phlegm hung from his dick, spanning out to Amarant's bruised lips. He hadn't even gotten half of it in, not even a third, and it was still hardening, plumping up and lengthening, the shaft stiff and rigid sticking straight out from Dan's crotch.
"Fuck my mouth," Amarant growled with what remained of his breath, voice already rasping and thick from his ravaged throat. He panted horsely and dived back on Dan's huge cock. He took a gasping breath right as the fat, dripping tip of his dick surged down his throat, visibly bulging out his neck. He grunted inarticulately, Dan's dick driving into him, the fat, flared tip feeling like it was building up a plug of slimy fluid as he bobbed back and forth, squeezing his huge dick down his bulging throat. He sucked loudly on his shaft, long strings of spit dripping off to splatter on the steps. Amarant clenched his arms around Dan's hips, trying to physically pull himself onto his absurd cock.
Dan made the faintest motion, bucking his hips forward minutely with his clawed hands tangled in his dreads, and Amarant choked. He coughed even as he pulled off, his cock emerging clotted with heavy globs of spit and precome and phlegm, all of it in a thick mixture and sliding sluggishly down to the underside of his shaft. His chest heaved as he sucked in a breath of air, almost choking as he coughed. He looked down and spit, a fat glob of fluid splattering between them, then wiped the drooling trail off his lips and beard with the back of his hand, face flushed a deep, ruddy red.
He thumbed open his belt buckle, tugging his hard dick out from his pants, slicking it down with his hand, covered in spit and precome. He jerked it roughly in his off-hand as he closed his fist around the base of Dan's cock, the shaft far too thick for his fingers to close around it.
He looked down the length of Dan's cock, jutting out like a massive prong from his furry crotch. His face felt hot, flushed, and he was acutely aware of the heated skin of his neck and shoulders, the sensation trailing down across his chest. He was sweating hard, and his shirt was plastered to his back with damp lines of sweat trailing from his armpits. He was only half-aware of his own rasping pants, his breath spilling warm in the already hot stairwell. Dan's dick felt sizzling hot in his hand, jerking in time to his rapid heartbeat. Amarant could feel his own heart pump, a pulsing rush all through his body.
He leaned close to Dan, his drooling cockhead drizzling precome into his beard, the rank smell of it filling his nostrils as he opened his mouth wide. The fat, blunt head pressed past his lips, flattening his tongue to the bottom of his mouth. Its girth completely filled him; the edges of the shaft pushed along his molars as he took it in, breathing rapidly and shallowly through his nose as its meaty, salty taste filled his mouth.
Dan rocked forward again and the drooling tip mashed against the back of his mouth. Amarant almost gagged, mouth flooding with saliva and drooling out with wet plops past his bruised lips. He swallowed, lips slurping wetly around his shaft as his throat opened up, and he inhaled deeply one last time. He pushed himself up and forward, knees spreading wide as he took in more of Dan's dick, completely blocking off his air again as it surged down his throat.
He could feel his throat bulge out, the huge shaft forcing his jaw wide open, pushing against the soft tissue in the back of his mouth as it worked against the bend of his throat. He could feel the wet drool of his precome sliding down his throat, the thick fluid piling up and making him want to cough as it stuck in clumps against the lining of his throat. His lips worked against Dan's shaft, not able to close around its girth even as it plunged further into him. Thick lines of drool hung from his lips, snapping and dropping to the steps with wet splats as he bobbed back and forth frenetically, his throat spasming against the massive invader.
Amarant managed to push himself deeper, somehow. His shaft, a dark grey that must have been vivid red in full light, slid almost roughly against his stretched lips. His cockhead, already in his throat, plowed through thick layers of phlegm and precome, deeper and deeper into his esophagus. He bobbed back and forth, pushing himself off Dan's dick with his hands against his hip, only to sink back down with a wet burbling slurp.
He slurped back and forth, sinking deeper, until the need for air drew him back. The huge length of cock he'd taken slid out of his mouth with a sloppy gush of fluid that splattered down between them. Mucousy lines of spit clung from the last few inches of Dan's dick, connecting back and forth to Amarant's bruised lips. He made no move to break them as he panted, breath rasping thickly with his mouth and throat full of precome. His breath rattled in his throat and even deeper, so that each breath almost brought on a coughing fit. His face was beet red, his lips red and bruised, bloated thicker from the mammoth dick. He stared at the side of it, able to tell by the thick coating of spit and precome how deep he managed to take it— somewhere around two-thirds of the way in.
Amarant growled, rasping out a completely inarticulate phrase. He coughed and spat down and his whole body jerked as the wet glob splattered against his flushed, rock-hard dick. He panted more, coughing uncontrollably as he jerked himself off, working his slick, achingly-hard dick. He looked up at Dan, his dick smearing a thick ooze of precome against his cheek.
"C'mon," he said, voice just barely comprehensible under the thick rasp. "Fuck my mouth," he panted out, wheezing. He said more, but it was a rough, incomprehensible growl, and even he didn't know what he wanted to say.
He dove back down on Dan's dick, his throat opening easier this time. When Dan jerked his hips forward, Amarant's throat spasmed but he took it as his cock squelched deeper. He swallowed, working his throat desperately to avoid gagging as Dan plunged his cock into him, his hands finally grasping his head under his dreads and yanking him back and forth.
Amarant's face was stuck in a perpetual yawn, mouth open as wide as possible as Dan slammed his dick into his mouth, the bloated-out middle of his shaft scraping against the smooth sides of his molars as he forced it into him throat, his neck bulging outwards from the thick dick impaling him. It was pouring out precome, he could feel even with it stuck deep in him, the wet glurping slop of it increasing with each thrust as he fucked it back and forth, further and further down his esophagus.
He pulled his face back and forth, wet squelching, farting noises coming from his fucked-open mouth as Dan started pulling hard against Amarant's unresisting head. It felt like he was burying his dick down below his throat, somewhere in his chest, with only a few fat inches of his hard, red dick outside his slobbering mouth.
Dan pushed him mostly off his dick, the spurting head coming back out of his throat along with a flood of spit, drooling out of his mouth in long strings, and Amarant took a gasping breath around his cock, coughing and hacking as his desperate breaths tickled the layers of precome drooling down his throat. Dan shoved his dick back in before he could get in a good breath, and his ragged breath cut off in a wet gurgle as almost the entire length slammed into him, down his throat and even deeper, hilting everything save a short spit-splattered length; Amarant's nose was almost rubbing against the tufts of fur above his dick.
Amarant moaned inaudibly, the noise just vibrating around Dan's cock as he shot off. His cock erupted with his fist wrapped loosely around it. He made little gasping, grunting noises as he came, his entire body seizing up as he shot in hard blasts, his purplish-red cockhead flared out to shoot in a high arc, streamers of come hitting across the steps and more burbling slowly down his cock, across his knobby knuckles until it dripped off in little drops between his legs. His muscles jerked uncontrollably with the final, aching spurts of his cock that sent a liquid dribble pouring down his shaft, coating his balls and staining his pants dark.
He knew he was choking, dimly, but he didn't bother pulling back as he was wracked by his orgasm. Dan was the one who did it, settling back against the wall and pushing him back, until his cock emerged from his throat. He panted automatically, breath wheezing around the final few inches of Dan's dick, still in his mouth.
He was drooling again, he realized as he panted, lips spread wide and Dan still spurting out precome, heavy strings of fluid drooling out across his lips and dripping slowly through his beard, hanging down in long, thick strings. He pulled back with a wet pop, his breath coming clearer as he panted with his mouth lolling open. Dan's cock was spurting precome with enough force to splatter wet trails across his face, collecting at his nose and chin to dangle in heavy, jiggling chains until they snapped and fell down, adding more mess to the steps below.
He sat back against the other wall, wheezing hard. Wet strings between his lips and Dan's cockhead pulled out but didn't snap, given it was only a scant inch or two further between them in the narrow stairway. The web of drool and precome hanging from his chin swung back and he looked up, plastering across his stained, sweaty shirt. Breathing felt wet, like he'd gotten precome in his lungs somehow, and Dan was spurting out more still, splattering and smearing against the side of his face. It dripped down the wall and leaked over the edge of the step, dripping with a sound like raindrops.
He pulled at his shirt, smearing his dripping, come-stained fingers across the fabric. He tried to open it, fumbling and popping as many buttons off as he managed to undo, until it gaped open to reveal his ruddy, hairy chest. He was sweating freely, his hair dark and matted against his unnaturally pale skin, now flushed an ugly violet-red as he growled and panted, struggling to pull off his shirt. Its usually-loose folds were soaked with sweat and other fluids and it clung tightly to him. He eventually tore the tangled bundle off his arms and tossed it up the stairs where it landed in a flapping heap.
Even in the dim light he could see his flush. It reached down all across his chest, practically to his dick, half-hard with a stubborn trail of come hanging from the head. He tugged his pants down further, spreading them across his huge, muscled thighs. They were even more splattered and stained than his shirt; Dan's precome had left huge wet blotches where it had splattered down across them. More was soaking in every second as drops from his cock spurted across his shaft and dropped down, across his bare stomach and the front of his pants.
Amarant looked up, facing the titantic pillar of Dan's cock straight on, the tip burbling wetly. He tried to say something, but it only came out as a hoarse grunt. His throat was aching and raw, lined with thick clotted precome. His lips were sore and felt bloated and stretched, and his mouth felt... baggy, almost, after being open wide for so long.
He took the very tip of it in his mouth and the rank, salty taste filled his mouth again as his precome spurted, pooling in the back of his mouth until he swallowed with a rough, sore pang. He opened his aching jaw wide and let his bruised lips slurp around his dripping shaft. Dan grinned and huffed, his narrow chest heaving as he panted too. He grabbed hold of his head again and pulled him forward, slowly but inexorably. Even the muscles of Dan's twiggy arms were enough to force him deeper, not that he had any interest in pulling back.
Amarant moaned as Dan pulled his head closer, forcing his cock back into him and down his throat, the noise muffled and then cut off as his cock pushed his tongue flat, immobile as his mouth was filled with his bloated shaft. It slid easily, almost unobtrusively, down his throat, as always testing the confines of his body, each heartbeat through his shaft enough to stretch his throat. He didn't even notice when his breath was cut off, impossible to swallow or talk or breathe, as burbles of precome and spit started dribbling out past his aching, bruised lips.
Dan pulled him back and forth, dragging his head unresponsively along his cock, his body following behind like a ragdoll. He shoved his head back just enough for him to suck in a hoarse, messy breath before plunging him back down, forcing his slick, dripping cock back into him. He had to be spurting precome like a faucet, fat slick trails of it shot down into his stomach and caught in his throat, some working their way up around his churning shaft to spill in a frothy burble out of his mouth. He drank it down, not that he had a choice, unable even to swallow with his ravaged throat stuffed full of dick, while the rest spilled in a constant stream out past his lips.
He gagged, feeling vaguely like he was going to hurl with his stomach filled to bursting with precome, with more always pouring into him in salty bitter gobs, thick and stringy as he shot tastelessly in his throat. He could feel it in his sinuses as he coughed and choked around his cock, Dan not letting him up for a breath as he spasmed around his cock, coughing ineffectually with his throat still blocked, only managing to send the thick, slippery mixture through his sinuses with a watery sting until it drooled out his nose, his eyes watering as he kept coughing and choking.
Dan kept pounding away, using both hands now to drag his face back and snapping his hips forward at the end, each time shoving almost all his cock into him. His head-sized balls slapped against his jaw, as his face was buried in the coarse, patchy fur across Dan's stomach as his cock sunk all the way into him with a sickening lurch.
The head of it was in his chest, somewhere below his collarbone, and he didn't even realize he was doing it until he flexed his hands and found them wrapped around Dan's legs in a death grip as he kept fucking his face, slamming his cock down to the root with each thrust. The wet flood of precome pulsed deep inside him, and with each thrust it felt like the flared head of his cock popped back and forth through some tight hole at the bottom of his throat, expanding like a plug when it sunk into his chest only to pop out with an almost painful jerk with every thrust, like he was going to yank his throat out through his mouth.
He dimly felt Dan hilt himself and stay there; his nose ground against his pubic bone as his lips split with a sting of pain, followed by a further low throb as Dan's salty precome poured across the split. Even the pain seemed distant and blurry, and it was hard to tell if it had his eyes open or not. His fingers tensed and spasmed around Dan's thighs, clenching and relaxing like they weren't a part of him, and the low ache in his knees, even as it stepped up in pitch, felt less immediate. He sucked hard on Dan's cock, vainly trying to inhale and only dragging his cock deeper, his lips kissing the edges of his bloated, wrinkled sheath.
He came again, abruptly, and his entire body jerked and spasmed, thrashing back and forth with Dan's cock spiked down to his core. His eyes rolled back in his head, eyelids fluttering, as his cock spat strings of come. His heartbeat thundered through his body, throbbing in his ears as he shot off and drowning out everything else. Pleasure like lightning shot up through his guts, like it was arcing between his cock and his mouth, aching and sore. The thick muscles of his neck spasmed and knotted, moving his jaw as much as he could, working it slightly against Dan's cock as his body lurched. Lights shone in the corners of his eyes, bright flashes that didn't seem to have any color at all. He wasn't aware of jerking back, but he must have, since the next thing he knew he was gasping raggedly against the far wall with a sharp pain in the back of his head from where he'd hit it on the railing, with his body still convulsing with orgasm, come shooting in sluggish ropes from his cock and splattering across his sweaty, dripping stomach.
He could barely breathe even with Dan's cock bobbing in the air in front of him; his throat was lined, clogged, with precome, and as he hacked and coughed he could feel his throat distend enough for the mass of viscous fluid on the sides to touch and form a film, blocking his throat entirely until he coughed more, coughing and coughing and spitting out heavy globs while thick streams sluggishly drooled from his nose, until he could finally take a breath and not gag, even if his eyes were watering and his face was covered in a wet sheen of sweat, his lips still stinging and slobbery with precome and phlegm and bleeding a little where his lips had split, the space between his teeth and lips overflowing with the mixture even as he spat repeatedly.
He spent so long gasping and coughing and almost retching that it almost came as a surprise when he looked up to see Dan plastered against the other wall, his cock bobbing in front of Amarant's face still. Dan's head was lolled back with his tongue hanging; his arms were dangling at his sides, and his wormy tail was between his legs, wound around his immense cock. His cockhead was flared out into a wide circle and he was spurting precome like a hose, just moments away from coming. It was pouring in wet, uneven bursts across Amarant's face, and he realized abruptly that it had been for a while, he'd just hadn't noticed while he was half-unconscious and struggling to breathe.
He was coated and dripping at this point, his entire body covered in a sheen of precome or sweat or spit or all three, even on top of what had been splattered across him while he'd been cocksucking. It spurted down across the side of his face, weighing down his dreads and dribbling from his short beard, slopping down onto his chest in heavy gobs and running across his stomach, dripping from his stiff nipples in wet streams. More slipped across his hairy stomach, his body hair dark and clinging wetly to his darkly flushed skin.
His pants were soaked; the green fabric was now uniformly black, wet-dark and dimly glossy as it stretched tightly across his thighs. They were sagging off his ass, fly undone and pushed down as far as he could while on his knees, but the never-ending slopping stream of precome poured down his back and dripped across his thighs until the inside of his pants were filled to overflowing, his ass and legs immersed, and with every movement it squelched and slurped wetly against his legs. It overflowed, pouring from the sagging back of his pants to splatter on the steps and from the front to drool down his thighs.
Dan was spraying with enough force that some of it backsplashed off his soaking body and splattered across the walls or even back across his own legs, his fur damp with sweat and darkening further as he stroked himself off with his wiggling tail, hosing down Amarant like he was kneeling under a miniature waterfall.
He was still choking on precome, throat raw and aching, spitting globs of frothing precome without end. He lurched forward, sending Dan's cock skidding across his face and other his shoulder, pouring rank precome in great slops down his back. He panted raggedly against the side of Dan's cock as he slid forward, until his lips pressed against his wormy tail, stroking the base of his cock with constant wet cracking sounds. He slurped and lapped at the side of his shaft, breath huffing wetly as his jaw hung open, too sore to close. His face was flushed, ears hot, precome still dripping down along his shaft, splattering across his face, trickling down his scalp.
After a minute he realized, vaguely, that Dan's cock was huge, and if he wanted to suck him off he had to pull back, sliding back up along his bloated shaft until his cock was aimed straight at his face, huge ropes of precome filling his mouth. The heavy, rank and salty, almost meaty flavor of it made his stomach roil as he tried and failed to swallow. He sputtered and coughed a mouthful of precome back across Dan's cock.
Still, he sunk forward again, letting his aching jaw open wide as he tried to squeeze the flared head of his cock past his bleeding, stinging lips and then past his teeth. Precome was already pouring from his mouth, smearing across his teeth and coming from his nose as he coughed around the immense head. His entire body jerked as he bowed forward to take the cock into his throat again, just barely managing to contain the unpleasant gag and roil in his stomach as Dan's fat cockhead surged past the back of his throat.
The trapped suffocating feeling was familiar by now, almost pleasant. His throat worked painfully around the huge shaft, clenching it as he worked his swallowing muscles and gagged repeatedly, nevertheless sinking deeper, taking it further and further since he knew he couldn't keep it for much longer. Dan unwrapped his tail from his cock as Amarant took the rest of it in, the thick, bloated middle of it visibly distending his throat as he hilted his cock. Dan was still spurting precome in huge, sickening bursts straight into his stomach, and it felt dimly like he'd never actually come, just piss out precome forever until he choked to death and threw up at the same time. It was with that thought, though, that Dan grabbed at his head with a final, surprisingly loud moan, and dragged Amarant forward until his nose was grinding against the long, matted fur above his crotch, his sheath hot against his lips. He gagged again, the thick gel of precome and phlegm drooling in ropes from his nose, his mouth wide open and clogged with cock as Dan started fucking his throat again, dragging him back and forth by his dreadlocks, his face slapping wetly against his stomach, Amarant unable to muster the effort to swallow with his bruised throat, gagging and choking constantly.
Dan finally came with a long, loud exhale, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. Dan dragged him forward, hilting his cock down to the absolute base. His mouth was spread wide open like his jaw was dislocated, teeth and tongue working suddenly not against the slick flesh of his cock but the coarse, matted hair of his sheath as it pushed partway into his mouth.
He felt like a sword-swallower with Dan's cock spearing him through. Every huge, bloated inch of it was buried inside him, his throat already bulging outward from the shaft even as it swelled larger, like it was gonna rip him apart. The tip was somewhere in his chest, the pointed tip flared out into a huge disc.
Before he came, before the first blast of come pumped into him, he could feel the whole thing swell, getting thicker and thicker until he was sure his throat would just burst open in a bloody mess. Dan came straight down into his stomach, clawed hands buried in his hair and keeping him trapped, suffocating, on his cock again. His come pumped into him and all he could feel was the heavy thickness of it, so much of it spraying into him without end, in bursts he could feel all through his body, from his slobbering, spread lips down to his guts, the mass of come filling him up.
He finally did try to pull back, pull away, pull off, his body trembling and weak with asphyxiation, but Dan kept his hands clamped tight and strong across the back of his head, insensate in his orgasm as his cock pumped his load without end into his body. He gagged weakly, come spurting sluggishly out from his nose and mouth, eyes tearing as he choked and gagged. The thick weight of each huge spurt was palpable until there was just so much, all of it blending together into a constant sick pressure inside him. His heart hammered in his chest, his blood throbbing in his veins a counterpoint to the long, painful pulses of Dan's cock, straining his throat.
His weak jerking struggles grew frantic as he thrashed his arms, unable to simply grasp and push back against Dan. Dan was roaring and grunting in his orgasm, and he probably had been all along, but the sound dimmed and came back in uneven bursts. The colorless darkness and flashes of light in the corners of his eyes even started to fade away to... something else, a lack of sensation at all, until finally Dan released his grip and tugged him back fractionally and Amarant just collapsed.
Amarant slumped back, a movement that couldn't have taken more than a second, but it felt like it took forever. Each successive blast of come fired higher and higher up his throat, more and more spraying out of his mouth and nose as Dan pulled out of his ravaged throat, his shaft coated in heavy, sloppy lines and frothy bubbles of come. It finally popped out of his throat entirely, and even his throat flexing back to its proper shape sent waves of nausea and agony through his body.
He shot into his mouth, bulging out his cheeks and all of it spraying out around his stretched and cracked lips. It was like a waterfall, pouring with heavy glugs over his face and splattering across his chest, heavy wet streamers of it all across the front of his body.
It popped out of his mouth, finally, and Amarant reflexively tried to breathe, come burning backwards into his sinuses again and he just choked and coughed on it all, like every internal in his body was caked and scummy with some gross fluid. He gasped in tiny pants between coughs, barely managing to breathe at all as he coughed up a pile of thick, gel-like come, his eyes dimly fixing on how it spread sluggishly and poured out across the steps as the grey, flashing haze across his eyes started to fade. He was drooling freely, most of it not spit at all but just more of Dan's come or precome, thinned slightly by spit.
His throat was still full of it, enough that his breath rattled wetly when he finally caught a small hint of air. Every passage inside him was lined with it, and the wet, thick, coated feeling of it trickling down the back of his throat made him gag repeatedly, still choking for air as his eyes teared up and his nose ran. He could finally really gag, wet choking heaves as his entire body shook, his stomach churning.
His stomach jerked with such force it was like someone had grabbed hold of it and pulled, and he opened his mouth to gape only to get another face-full of come, streaking across half his face and slapping against the bridge of his nose. He didn't try to swallow the mouthful that shot into him; he couldn't; it squelched between his teeth and cheek and drooled out past his lips as he heaved again.
He at least had the presence of mind left to turn his head. He almost toppled down the steps as he turned and bent down, his sides still heaving as he choked and gasped and with a final rattle, puked.
It was hardly even like vomiting; he just relaxed the tension holding it back and his body reacted without any volition; his aching throat spasmed repeatedly until with a wet gush he was throwing up, heaving in slimy ropes as Dan's come poured out of him; thick, viscous ropes of come and mucus splattering down onto the steps, salty and bitter and acidic in his mouth as he gasped once before he heaved again, more of it sputtering out of him.
He sucked in a breath, still wet and rattling deep in his chest, and coughed and spit loosely, dribbling across his lips for a brief moment before he heaved again, throwing up more bitter, acidic mess, thick and salty as he gagged and almost plunged headlong down the steps as he reached up to his mouth and pulled it out, Dan's come so thick that it formed heavy ropes, clogging up his throat even as he gagged and threw it all up. It slithered up his throat as he pulled the clotted ropes from his mouth and that made him heave again, a broad splatter of thick, frothing liquid bursting from his mouth and spraying across his hand, dripping and landing with heavy splats on the steps as he coughed and spat.
Amarant leaned back weakly. His entire body felt light and airy, trembling and weak as he finally managed to breathe without choking or coughing. It hurt, still, and his breath was wet and rattling, but he gasped repeatedly, hyperventilating as he finally got air.
The air in the stairway was sizzling hot, and humid as all hell, and rank like meat. Amarant felt flushed all over still, and his pulse still sounded in his ears, hammering fast, but slowing as he panted with his tongue hanging out. He wiped his slick, tacky hands on his pants, just exchanging one substance for another as they came back dripping with come. Dan was still coming, his cock lancing huge wet bolts of come against the wall where Amarant's head had been until he'd leaned over, and his tail was wrapped all along his balls and shaft, twisting and knotting as he came. For his part, Amarant felt drained and empty. He was coated from head to toe in Dan's slippery fluids, and his dreads and beard were dripping stringy drops. His chest was completely coated in layers of come, solid white all across and drooling down further. He'd come again, he realized, when he was choking, but he hadn't even felt it. The only way he could even tell was that he'd been rock hard before, but now his cock was softening slowly, and there was something like the vagueness of orgasm through his body.
Amarant grasped at Dan's cock, the entire titanic pillar of it coated in frothy, clotted globules, webs of thick come clinging to the underside in arcs as more gushed out, splatting wet and hot against his arms as he stroked him off, his fingers squelching through the thick, goopy fluids on his shaft. Dan's scrawny little arms were trembling as he clutched the railing with a death-grip, and he was actually wavering on his feet as his cock kept pumping, the stream of come finally starting to let up and let out bursts of come that sprayed across Amarant's shoulders instead of solid bolts that hit the wall.
Dan's legs gave up on him finally, when his cock was just burbling out a sluggish flow of come that slid down the underside of his cock and across his huge, bloated balls to drip down from there. He toppled over, like a felled tree, and knocked his arms against the steps leading up, until he came to rest practically lying across the steps up, his cock dripping little strings of come across a higher step. His eyes swam back into focus and he slowly unwound his tail from around his cock, staring at Amarant staring back at him.
He still felt a little swimmingly drunk, even after it all, so he just shook his head and grabbed at his shirt, then staggered down the steps, leaving Dan panting there in the dark. The steps did more than creak under his feet, they audibly slopped and splattered like they'd been outdoors during a rain, and the only thing that belied that was the viscous streamers hanging down from each step and hooking on the soles of his boots. Each step sent the heavy, slogging mass of Dan's load dribbling down his legs, along the soaking fabric on the inside of his pants. He didn't even both to put his shirt or belt back on, just tugged the laces of his pants tight enough so they didn't fall entirely off his body, less of a challenge now, since his pants were stuck to his skin, plastered on from the mess caking the inside.
There was a broad puddle at the base of the steps, and his cock twitched at the rank smell suffusing the hallway. The back room was entirely deserted, and the few people left in the bar were huddled on the other side of the main room, well away from him and the door. One of them men glanced up at his entrance and immediately looked away, and Amarant snarled and bared his teeth, well aware he was still dripping come. If anyone said anything about it, he'd kill 'em. It would make a nice coda to the evening.
But no one did, so he just stepped over to the door, feet squelching inside his shoes, and stepped out. Anticlimactic.
He wasn't even sure how he got home; he had goosebumps all across his bare chest and arms, and he was cool and tacky to the touch. He felt a hot, painful trickle in the back of his throat constantly and he'd kept spitting, each time expecting gobs of blood but only hacking up something that was probably even more of Dan's come, thick and white and veined with phlegm. His lips might still be bleeding; every time he licked them, unthinking, he felt the split skin, stinging and painful, but not really a bad pain.
He lurched into his place and slammed the door behind him, his legs almost giving out as he slumped back and slowly slid down the wall. The clotting fluid all across his back was still liquid enough to smear across the door as he sunk down, and it was without any coherent thought that he stumbled to the bathroom.
He just dropped his shirt, and it hit the floor with a dull, heavy thump. He kicked off his boots with a wet squelch, and managed to wrestle his soaking pants off, pulling them inside out as they clung to his legs. He felt warmer afterwards; his bare skin exposed to the air inside, instead of being pressed against wet, wind-chilled fabric.
He collapsed into the bath, an empty tin tub far too short and narrow for his body. His limbs hung over the edge at the elbow and the knee, and his wet, pruning toes pressed against the far wall of the room. He rubbed his hands against his thighs and belly, warming himself up even through he was still slippery, his legs still completely wet with come. As if on its own volition, he raised one hand to grind against his pecs, rubbing the heel of his palm against his stiff nipples. He ground his other hand against his pubes, matted to his body with Dan's stringy load, and then down further to tug at his cock. He was half-hard; he'd been half-hard for a long time, and just touching his cock was enough to stiffen it up, until it was hot in his hand and the head was slick with fresh precome.
It was still soon enough after he didn't think about what had happened; his body remembered it all. It was like reliving it all over again, almost, the flushed dizzy heat consuming his entire body until he came with a sudden peak. His come splattered across his belly with a surprisingly loud splatter, slapping against his still-wet skin as he kept pumping, hips arching up and down and thumping loudly against the bottom of the tub. He kept stroking lazily until his cock ached, his come squelching through his fingers as he toyed with his softening cock, pinching and pulling at his thick foreskin.
He huffed, his breath still sounding wet and heavy, and kept playing with himself, his hands skimming across his inner thigh and toying with his balls, reaching back to slide his fingers between the slick, wet cleft of his ass. He splayed back in the tub, idly tugging at his cock until it got hard again, flush and hot in his hand, against the cool, dim room. He stroked himself slowly, rolling his foreskin back and forth over the head of his cock, tugging at its heavy folds. He slid his left hand across his skin, slick and tacky and sensitive all over, goosebumps pricking up as Dan's come dried across his body.
His breath was coming deep and slow, but he rolled his head back and opened his mouth despite the ache in his jaws, thinking back to choking and sputtering on Dan's cock. He swallowed, painfully, and let his throat close on the air, not anything at all like choking even though it felt that same, a little.
His cock leaked out a wet stream of precome, and he could feel his orgasm well up again, already, but he slowed his movements and lifted his hand away from his cock, stroking across his thighs and the crusted, matted hair on his belly until the pleasure ran to a low ebb.
He breathed again, slowly exhaling, and it sounded loud and hoarse. His cock was red and flushed, and he could feel a hot flush starting in his ears, slowly spreading across his cheeks.His body felt hot to the touch; his cock was almost chilled by his cooler hand as he started stroking again, a slow tug at his cock until he was about to come, when he stopped entirely and let his cock twitch in the air, so close to coming it took what felt like a full minute before it ebbed enough for him to touch himself again, just feeling across his coarse, tacky chest. His fingers caught on the drying patches of come, and his cock jerked, slowly leaking drops of precome. He froze in place for a moment, before dragging his fingertips across the heavy swell of his pecs, reaching for one stiff, pebbled nipple.
His light touches gave way to heavy, forceful pinches, enough to redden his skin, and then he reach down to his cock again, grinding his hands against his skin the entire way down, until he grabbed at his cock with both hands, both of them together just a little longer than his entire cock. He stroked himself once, twice, before he hung his head back and let his throat close again, his cock jerking in his hands as his low groan cut off midway through. It was nothing like getting his air cut off at all, no absolute barrier forcing him to save his breath, but the strangled, choking sound he made when he tried to inhale was enough for his cock to lurch in his hands; a thick, gel-like string of precome shot out, sticking in a solid, viscous pile to his right hand, at the junction of his thumb.
Almost idly he raised his hand up off his cock, leaving his left curled around the base, and tipped his head forward enough so he could press his tongue against the thick, hot blob. It tasted like not much, faintly salty and even more faintly bitter, its texture thick and stringy, heavy in his mouth as he licked it off. His face was hot, like he was blushing hard, and he looked down to see his flush spreading across his shoulders and chest. His neck felt sizzling hot to his cold hand, and the slightest pressure was enough to bring the hoarse, aching pain back to the forefront.
Dan's come was dry and cracking on his skin; flakes of it tore off as Amarant ran his hand across his chest, across his crusted, matted-down chest hair. His cock lurched out another thick blob of precome as he reached down across his stomach, still sticky to the touch in parts, feeling rough and flushed under his hand. He was achingly, dizzyingly hard, but he let his head loll back again, eyes closed, as he stroked his cock. He tugged at the wrinkled folds of his foreskin and traced one fingernail lightly over the thin seam of flesh on the underside of his cock, between his shaft and cockhead. His low groan echoed off the bare walls, and he pushed harder, the waves of absolute pleasure running out from that one little strip of skin suffusing his entire body.
He cracked his eyes open, watching his cock bob and jerk in the air, jutting up rock hard from his crotch with the slightest upward curve. It was shiny, the scarlet head practically glimmering in the low light as his precome slid down the blunt head and past the folds of his foreskin to slick down the rest of his shaft.
He spit into his hand, groaning as he did at the pain of it, and slathered the thick, sticky liquid across his cock, half of it probably more of Dan's jelly-like come. It was slippery as he stroked himself off again, slow enough that he wouldn't come, and when it dried out after a few minutes he did it again, slicking his cock down with spit and jerking off. Finally, finally after what felt like a really long time, not that he had any sense of time left, he felt his cock tense up, a tight tangle of heat in his belly, and this time instead of edging back he kept stroking, panting unevenly as he finally let himself come.
He was staring down at his cock, slick and tacky and hot in his hand, the entire thing flushed red, and his first shot burbled wetly down across his belly and hand, followed immediately by a fierce spasm that shot across the side of his head, from his hairline down to his jaw, and he jerked back in surprise at the sudden contact. He shot again, across his jaw and chin, covered his stiff, crackling beard with more come, and the rest of it shot across his chest and belly, so much more his balls started to ache before he finished.
He released his cock with a wet slurp, his hand coated in come, and let his arms hang out over the edge of the tub, meeting the rim at the elbow. His cock drooled the last of his load down, hot against his belly, and Amarant just lolled his head back again and closed his eyes. Fuck, he was tired.
He fell asleep almost immediately, still splayed out in the old metal tub, come-streaked face resting against the rim of it. Whatever, he thought dimly as he fell deeper into sleep, he'd clean up later. He was fucking tired.
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