The Way You Make Me Shake | By : KohakuShadow Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male > Irvine/Zell Views: 932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy (neither 8, nor 7, nor any of the others, for that matter), and I'm certainly not making any money off of smutting up the characters. It's just my twisted little idea of fun. |
Pairing: Zell/Irvine, also *Rufus/Sephiroth/Reno/Rude* and mentions of Squall/Selphie Rating: Explicit, VERY Explicit Chapters: One, but it's a long one inspiration: 'The Way You Make Me Shake' by Patent Pending, also, had the chorus of 'Save a horse, Ride a Cowboy' by Big and Rich swimming through his head for the better part of this. Warnings: PWP. Anal, oral, double penetration, felching, foursome, outdoor sex, ridiculously large cocks and implied aphrodisiacs, improper use of mayonnaise. Summary: Irvine wants him, terribly, but he can't work up the nerve to say so and ends up avoiding him instead. Eventually, Squall intervenes – sending them on a mission together and telling Irvine to 'kiss and make up'...and not return until they have. A/N: Written as a gift for a good buddy with whom I have a running joke about Zell hiding a massive meat stick under those baggy shorts, and who loves Patent Pending as much as I do. Yes, I have a mailing list. If you want to be added, email to maybeitsmajick@gmail.com. I will only email fic updates and related information. I will never spam you. I will not add blank emails but 'add me' is perfectly sufficient.
The Way You Make Me Shake
Hyne! Why did he have to be so...?
Irvine shuddered. It was a shudder he'd been repressing for the past hour and a half. He tossed his jacket over the chair and cast his hat to follow. It tumbled over the desk to the floor, but at the moment, he didn't care. He was hot and sweaty, and worse than that – hard as a rock.
A few hours in the training area had sounded like such a good idea, a way to kill some some time and boredom, but it quickly became apparent from the way the sweat dripped down the other's throat, the inadvertent sexiness of short panting breaths, that Irvine's mind was going to spend the evening in the gutter. By the time he realized that, it was already too late. He was just grateful that his training partner was too oblivious to notice the obvious bulge in the front of his trousers, or, if they did, kind enough not to mention it.
He cast his vest aside, sat on the edge of the bed with a wince as the zip grazed over his burgeoning erection, and made quick work of his boots, casting them wildly off. The last of his clothing was quick to follow.
Irvine Kinneas didn't consider himself an overtly proud man, but that didn't mean he was completely without shame. He felt his ignominy most poignantly as he sunk bare against his bedding and slid his long fingers down his torso to caress his taut rod.
It was wrong, he thought, and a little cruel, to so objectify one of his dearest friends. Even so, he couldn't help himself. As his eyes fell closed and his lips parted, all he could think of was that compact body – how it would feel rubbing against his own. That tight ass, those soft lips... Pale eyes. Blond hair...
Irvine moaned softly as his hand sped over his burning need. "N-nngh...mmmn..." 'And I bet he has a huge cock hiding in those denim shorts."
Zell's obsession with hot dogs only fueled Irvine's fantasy. The way he inhaled the damn things made it so easy to imagine the same stupidly happy look on his face as he closed his lips around Irvine's hard cock, how easily Zell would take him down the back of his throat.
"Mn...ghh...h-haaa!" Irvine groaned, hips bucking up off the bed into his own hand. "Fuck yeah. Zell. Zeellll...mmngh!" His orgasm overtook him with sudden and humiliating speed, hot release spattering across his stomach.
He came down off the high as quickly as he had sent himself up on it. "Hyne. Fuck," he cursed, sitting up and grabbing a tissue from the bedside table to clean himself up.
No, Irvine Kinneas was not without shame. He felt the intensity of very clearly as he licked a trail of cum off of his fingers, eyes closed, imagining it wasn't his own.
*
Over the next month, he had several more moments of weakness, and they only increased in frequency. He had to find excuses to skip lunch, because – Hyne forbid! – Zell got to the cafeteria before the hot dogs sold out. The filth his mind cooked up watching the hyperactive blond eat was enough to finish him on the spot. He faked a cold for two days and wouldn't even let Selphie in the room. He told her he didn't want her to catch it. But, in spite of the great efforts he went to to avoid the object of his infatuation, he always seemed to run into Zell by accident, and some small, meaningless interaction would have him racing back to his room to ride out a fantasy. He'd had crushes before, plenty of them.
Everyone thought he was just a flirt and a player, but he really did have an awful habit of falling for people hard and fast. And, well, a little flirting was harmless, right? But this was different. He could barely speak when he looked at Zell. He told himself he would try to flirt a little, see how the other reacted, but then he came face to face with the object of his infatuation and somehow forgot HOW to flirt. He opened his mouth, but only nonsense would come out. Best case scenario: he'd start talking about work. Worst case scenario, Zell would frown at him and say, "You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" and assume Irvine had been eying some nearby cadet that he hadn't even noticed until Zell pointed them out. He had no choice, in those situations, but to lie and say that was exactly what he was doing.
Irvine sat up in bed and buried his head in his hands. If his daytime infatuation weren't bad enough, now his fantasies were waking him up at all hours. "That's the fourth time today," he muttered under his breath, staring down accusingly at his groin, which was far more awake than the rest of him, and shuddering at the dream he'd just awakened in the middle of.
He frowned at the clock – it was 2 am, and he had to be up in 4 hours to teach a class on sharp shooting. But, there was no way he would get to sleep like this. His dream haunted him, frozen in motion, tables turned and just as exciting. He licked his lips, shivered, and tried not to feel too much like a filthy whore when he pulled out the lube and a big, purple dildo. He knew nothing short of that would satisfy his current sexual fantasy.
He prepped himself quickly, and bit his lip as he sat down slowly on the cold imitation of what he really wanted. His lips parted, imagining fantasy Zell's strong hands on his hips, leading him down, feeling it slide in deep...
He panted, leaned forward on his elbow, and pumped the fake cock into him as hard as he could, fantasizing about being drilled from behind by the object of his affections. His balls tightened and he spent himself hard, without touching his dick at all. It was the first time he'd ever come from anal pleasure alone, but he felt so satisfied that he knew it wouldn't be the last.
He cleaned himself up as quickly as he could, but looked back at the bed. "Shit. Now I have to change the sheets. Again."
He raked his fingers through his hair and decided he wouldn't get any further sleep tonight, so he might as well take a shower and clean his guns. 'I'll tell him,' he decided in the middle of that sleepless night. 'I'll tell him that I'm crazy about him, that I want him, that I can't think of anything but him, and...if he hates me for it, that's the price I'll have to pay.'
He resolved to do it. Nothing he'd ever felt even began to compare to the sexual frustration that Zell unwittingly put him through. He could pretend it was only the sexy tattoos and firm muscles that got him going, but it was everything else, too. It was the way Zell smiled, and how easy it was to make him laugh about the stupidest things, and how kind he was, how eager to help out a friend. It was how they liked all the same movies, even the bad ones, and how he still red comic books, and what an adorable little dork he was, and how he tried to hide that fact behind an almost untouchable strength, but Irvine could still see it, and adored him for it. The constant erections and concurrent masturbation were only the physical manifestation of how everything about Zell Dincht made his heart throb with desire. To hold, to kiss, to possess, and to be possessed in turn. The order in which those desires were fulfilled was negligible.
In spite of his resolve, come morning, he was just too tired. He wanted to be at his best when he confessed his infatuation to Zell. And, the next day, Zell was busy. He didn't want to bother him. On the third...okay, on the third, he just chickened out. He did the same on the fourth and fifth, and the sixth, too. Somehow, a month of convenient excuses and lonely nights had passed him by, and he was no better off for having the time to think.
He tried to work up the nerve, remembering that day in the clock tower when Squall had told him it didn't matter if he missed, as long as he fired the shot, but then he remembered how that ended up – with Squall skewered by a giant chunk of ice and kidnapped to a desert prison from which escape had been a string of near death experiences. Okay, yes, Squall had nothing but an angry abdominal scar to show for it, and even that had faded and didn't look all that angry anymore, but it was the principle of the thing! Bad things happened when he acted rashly! He hated to admit that he was a bit of a coward, underneath the hat tipping and Galbadian swagger, but the fact was, he'd been diligently avoiding Zell for weeks, while he was supposed to be confessing his undying devotion! It was horribly counterproductive.
It was while he was so busily mastering avoidance tactics that he got his newest mission. He had to do a double take when he read the mission parameters. Was Squall actually telling him to go sit up on the edge of a cliff for three days to keep watch for something he already knew wasn't there? Even if he was serious, wasn't the mission beneath him? And, what got to him more was that he was expected to spend several days alone on a mountain with who? Yes, of course, it just had to be Zell. He acted impulsively and took the mission straight up to Squall's office.
"What is this?" he demanded.
Squall looked up from his computer blandly. "A mission."
"A mission you could have given to a cadet, you mean," Irvine groused. "What's the deal with this?"
"It's from Rinoa," he sighed. That girl had been nothing but a nuisance since the day he'd met her. Now that he'd gotten her off of Garden, she kept making ridiculous requests. "Apparently, she thinks her new boyfriend is cheating on her, but she's the only person who thinks he's her new boyfriend in the first instance."
"That sounds familiar," Irvine drawled.
Squall frowned. "I really liked that ring," he muttered. "Anyway, things are slow. If I send someone she knows, she'll think I'm taking it seriously and leave me be. Just hang out on the cliffs by that estate for a few days and fake it. I know it's bullshit, but if it keeps her off of Garden and out of my hair, It's worth it."
"Do you really need both me and Zell for something like this?" he complained.
"Surveillance is to be executed by a two man team to ensure the location is under watch at all times," Squall recited as if he were reading it right out of the SeeD handbook, then shrugged. "Zell seems to be under the impression you're mad at him about something. I'm sure he's just being paranoid," he said, but what it sounded like to Irvine was 'it damn well better just be Zell being paranoid'. "Use it as an excuse to kiss and make up, or whatever."
Kiss and make up? Did he have to word it that way? "I'm not mad at him," he muttered.
"And I don't care," Squall replied. "Whatever your drama is, get over it before you come back."
Irvine thought he also heard a silent 'or there will be hell to pay'. Zell was Squall's best friend, whether Squall would ever admit it or not, so it made sense that if he took sides, Irvine would be the one that would be on the wrong one, but he wondered how Squall would feel about the filthy things he wanted to do to Zell. That, he figured, was better left unsaid.
He didn't get to say anything at all though, because just when he was about to go for a grudging 'yes, sir', his favorite little yellow bundle of joy stormed into the room.
Selphie stopped right in front of Squall's desk, put her hands on her hips and huffed at Garden's commanding officer. She pointed so disastrously close, that she poked the end of Squall's nose by accident. He blinked, and rolled his chair back. "You, buster, promised me a movie night!" she demanded.
Irvine blinked. What?
"It's not that late yet, is it?" Squall turned to the clock on the wall. "...oh."
"Oh," Selphie huffed. "Maybe I don't want to watch a movie after all," she complained. "You kind of have an issue with promises, you know, Squally."
Squall rubbed his hand over his scar the way he always did when he was feeling a little overwhelmed. "I don't have an issue with promises, Selphie. It's schedules that keep sneaking up on me. I have the movie right here. I was just in a meeting." He nodded toward Irvine. "I lost track of time."
Irvine thought it would be in his best interest to back him up. "Yeah, this cowboy was complaining about the boring mission that got dumped in his lap."
"But it's all cleared up now," Squall said. "Right?"
And Irvine thought he may have just heard a silent 'if you ruin date night, I will murder you in your sleep.' "Crystal," he answered, though his mind was spinning. When had Squall and Selphie started seeing each other. Selphie hadn't said a word!
Squall gave Selphie a sort of look like he was humoring her. "I'll be right down," he said. "Just let me finish up with Irvine, and shut down my computer."
"I won't wait long," Selphie complained.
"I won't make you," Squall answered. And then, that little bundle of happiness pecked their commander on the cheek and skipped out of the room. Squall didn't quite repress the bemused smile as he watched her go.
"You and Sephie?" he asked.
"None of your business," Squall replied instantly, doing just as he said and logging off of his computer, pulling a rental disk out of his drawer.
"The Sorceress's Knight? You're watching that again? Didn't I see you with it last week?"
"We didn't finish it."
Irvine thought there was something fishy about that, but before he could remark, Squall said, "So, we're finished here. The mission is non-negotiable, but don't take it too seriously. Just try to take note of a few things you can put in a report, and get this shit with Zell straightened out." He got up, grabbed his key card, and almost left the movie behind until Irvine reminded him. "Don't come back until you've made up. That's an order." He said it with a finality that made Irvine's heart sink into his stomach.
For better or worse, there was no chickening out now.
When they got out of the elevator on the bottom floor, Squall immediately started to jog towards the dormitories. Irvine preferred to drag his heels a little, let it all sink in, try to get his head around how the hell he was going to get through this, but with his long legs, Squall was still just opening the door to his room when Irvine was coming up the hall. He watched Squall hand Selphie the movie, and he watched Selphie take it in hand and toss it right over her shoulder before curling her tiny hands into Squall's fur collar and pulling him down to her for a kiss the likes of which left little of the rest of their evening up to the imagination, and if it did, then the hand he saw cupping her pert little ass as the other closed the door made it very clear that 'watch a movie' was code. Now it was very clear how they could have watched the same hour and a half long movie four times and never finished it. It blew his mind a little, not because he'd never heard (or even used) that particular code in his life, but because Squall had such a serious nature he just couldn't imagine him scheduling dates with the clear and explicit purpose of having sex in mind.
'Everyone's fucking but me, huh?' He didn't figure fucking with himself really counted for anything, at least not so long as he had to wake up alone.
*
The drive up to the cliff facing the mansion on the outskirts of Deling City was agony. The awkward silence was painful, and the radio in the jeep didn't work, which only made Zell's fidgeting and Irvine's sighs all the more pronounced.
'Standard issue for covert action my ass,' Irvine thought. 'Squall is just taking away all of our excuses not to talk.' That didn't, however, stop them from not talking for the entire drive.
When Irvine stopped the jeep and cut off the engine, that's when Zell suddenly blurted, "what did I do?"
Irvine knew he should answer, but he didn't know how. "I'll set up the telescopic lenses." He turned to pull a pair of large briefcases out of the back of the vehicle. When he turned back around, Zell was right next to him.
He tried to brush past, but that strong hand grabbed his bicep. "Irvine..." Zell sounded really broken up.
'What's wrong with you, Kinneas?!' He didn't want it to be this way. He knew what he had to do, but he was so afraid of actually DOING it. He looked back at Zell, a little sad, because even after time compression, he still couldn't seem to communicate anything that mattered to anyone that mattered. "You didn't do anything," he said. "Do a quick scout, would you? Make sure we're alone up here."
Zell's shoulders sunk and his head drooped, but he wasn't one to slack off on the job. He knew the job was bullshit. Irvine knew the job was bullshit, too. But, that didn't mean they could treat it like total bullshit, because they had to have something in the report that sounded good, and he didn't like to lie.
That's why, it was kind of a relief, when, a mere three hours into their stake-out, when Irvine was opening a package of hot dogs to make for dinner over an open flame – Zell's stomach was rumbling just thinking about it – their target got home.
Zell was watching through the lens as a white limousine pulled up and an elegantly dressed blond man got out. He held a conversation with two men at the front door – a tall black man and a red-head, after which his guards departed, and the blond returned to the limousine, holding out a hand for his guest for the evening, which was definitely not Rinoa. It was a tall, slender person with long silver hair, that Zell realized only belatedly was a man. They disappeared inside, and he fiddled until he got them into focus in one of the large upstairs windows. By the time he did, the well-dressed man had become a hardly-dressed man, and the silver-haired male was making quick work of seeing him not dressed at all.
Zell blushed, trying not to make his embarrassment known as he saw the taller male – voyeurs be damned, accidental or otherwise – shove the blonde's naked body against the full-length window, unfasten his fly, and ram mercilessly into him from behind. He tried to ignore the engaging expression on the blonde's features, and the way his creamy thigh and hard cock were squished pornographically against the glass. He tried not to imagine himself in that place, with Irvine still all but fully clothed, abusing him so magnificently, but his cock still swelled and his breath still caught in his throat, and he no longer cared much about fire-roasted hot dogs as he saw hot, white seed dirty the window. He bit the inside of his cheek against the urge to let the sight alone take him past the point of decency. He thought it went pretty much without saying that Rinoa was clearly not 'Rufus Shinra's type.
"Food's on," Irvine called.
It also went without saying, Zell realized, that he had to escape before Irvine could see what the sight of two men fucking had done to him.
"Ah, I-I have to go to the bathroom!" he declared quickly, and darted off into the woods before Irvine could say a word. His campfire hotdogs were cold by the time he finally returned to eat them.
*
Zell had been awkward and quiet the rest of the evening after that, but Irvine quickly discovered why. He gave Zell the excuse to go back to the jeep and get some rest, said he looked 'like you might be coming down with something'. He was pretty sure Zell knew it was just an excuse to send him back to the jeep so they didn't have to talk, but this time, Zell didn't seem to have any protests. Their attempts at conversing had gone so swimmingly thus far that Irvine didn't blame him for wanting a break from all the pregnant pauses and awkward silences. He kept trying to tell himself to confess. Squall had set up the perfect opportunity for him. Unfortunately, he also had this annoying, know-it-all voice in his head – which coincidentally sounded a lot like Quistis – that felt the constant need to remind him that if he confessed his feelings and Zell wasn't open to the advance, it would only make this mission exponentially worse. So the Selphie voice telling him 'go for it! What's the worst that can happen?!' and the Quistis voice listing all of the worst things that very well could happen were still viciously at war in his mind. He wondered, between the GF and the bickering women in his brain, how much of it was actually left for him. Oh, he wasn't crazy, he knew his Sephie-brain and Quisty-brain were just his subconscious trying to make a decision and getting nowhere, but he sure wished he had a male voice upstairs somewhere to defend his masculine pride, a little. Somehow, he imagined that one would sound like Squall, who never liked getting involved in this kind of argument.
'My imagination needs to take a break,' he thought irritably, turning back to the telescopic lens to see what was going on at the mansion. All Zell had told him was 'I think I've got the mission report covered.' He refused to explain himself, and turned red when Irvine started to pry, so he figured he'd better check it out himself if he didn't want to look like an idiot.
Down on the street, the guards, who had apparently wandered off, had returned. The redheaded one looked a little drunk as they wandered inside. He adjusted the lens just in time to see them walking in on...
'Oh. Shit.' His insatiable groin started to swell inside his chaps instantly. The blond they were supposed to be watching was straddled across a silver haired man's lap, riding what was obviously a generous cock with no small amount of gusto. He sat back, impaling himself fully and turned toward the two guards who had just come up the stairs, giving Irvine a very respectable view of his pink erection. Some words were exchanged, and, much to Irvine's shock, the guards began undressing – the redhead more quickly and clumsily than the bald man, revealing a heavily tattooed torso.
The blond waved him over, issued some instructions. The silver haired man laid back fully against the large bed, and the redhead climbed over him on all fours as the dark-skinned man approached. The blond pulled the redhead's hips back onto his erection, tossing his head, and – Irvine could only assume from his facial expression, moaning.
Irvine shifted his weight. His own throbbing cock pushing into the hard ground beneath him.
But, it got worse. Or better – depending on your perspective. The blonde then looked over his shoulder and said something to the bald man, leaned forward over the redhead... The bald man nodded, put a hand on each of the blond's pale ass cheeks, and shoved his cock inside to join the well-endowed silver haired man's, stretching the blond open wide.
Irvine's breath caught in his throat. He knew this was more than enough ammunition to get Rinoa off this guy's back...as he apparently had enough on it as it was. The greater challenge was going to be how to word it delicately in the mission report. And, what was more delicate than that? Why, that would be Irvine's straining arousal, of course. He knew there was no need to continue to watch the salacious endeavors of the slutty entrepreneur, but he couldn't turn away. In fact, he increased the magnification on that handy telescopic lens. He would deny it vehemently later, and as often as required, but he couldn't resist a better view at the live porn playing out in front of him, especially while Zell was so close by, messing with his rampant hormones as it was. His beautiful, blond Zell, who he could so easily replace this Shinra guy with in his imagination. The trouble was, he wasn't sure, for himself, whether he'd rather be in the redhead's place, or the silver haired man's... He'd gladly take either role, to watch Zell writhe and moan like that.
Irvine's hand started to slide down, but he stopped it on a stray thatch of grass, remembering where he was. He bit his lip. The silver-haired man turned his head away as the redhead nibbled at his throat and collarbone, but the redhead's mouth was torn away by a moan at a strong thrust. He knew that expression well – a spark against the prostate, and another, another...
His imagination quickly ran away with him. He imagined Zell lifting his hips, plunging in deep... His cock throbbed and his asshole twitched with desire. He couldn't repress his need any longer, and listened behind him. He heard nothing but the night and, presuming Zell fast asleep, risked lifting his hips just enough to unfasten his jeans and pull out his need, beginning to stroke himself as he enjoyed the view, and trying desperately not to moan. His breath came in short, sharp pants.
Those two thick cocks grinding into that pale, smooth ass, stretching it so wide. The tight hole squeezing that eager cock... In Irvine's imagination, it was Zell taking pleasure from both ends in such a way, reaching his hand down, just like that, leaning forward to wrap his fingers around Irvine's tense cock, just like that. "Nngh...Zell...Hyne! Fuck me...Hyne! I want you..." he mumbled to himself without realizing it.
A sharp intake of breath pulled him forcefully from his fantasy. Hand still on his dripping cock, he tentatively looked back over his shoulder to find the blond standing there. "I..." Zell sputtered, having heard every muttered word clearly against the silence of the night. They pierced through his thick skull and licked like fire down toward his cock.
"Zell! Shit! I...' He started to move, to try to scramble to get himself together, but Zell stopped him with those penetrating blue eyes.
"Don't," Zell squeaked, his voice not what he'd like it to be in his excitement. "Don't move."
Irvine bit the inside of his cheek against the combination of humiliation and excitement as Zell approached slowly. He couldn't help but notice that Zell's jeans looked like they were getting a little tight.
Zell's hands shook as he lowered himself to his knees behind the cowboy, pushed on his thighs to encourage him to lift his ass higher. He flipped up the bottom of Irvine's duster to get it out of the way, and pulled down the cowboy's pants, just to mid thigh, just as Irvine had imagined it, and the gunslinger shivered at the way Zell just looked at his bare bottom, feeling a fool to remain so still, his hand trapped mid-stroke on his erection.
"Z-Zell, I..."
"...I came to talk," Zell said. "...but, we can talk later." He was relieved, happy, excited, and terrified all at once – the last because he didn't want to screw this up, no matter what. "They're still..." Zell blushed.
"All four of them," Irvine answered.
"F-four?!" Zell blushed at the thought, but it still excited him.
"The two guards walked in on them," Irvine answered, throat dry. "Apparently that was reason enough for them to join in." His voice hitched as Zell dared to drag two fingers down his crack, grazing over his pucker. "Zell...!"
"...they must have taken something. They've been at it since before dinner."
Irvine's eyes widened, finally understanding why Zell had run off so quickly to relieve himself, and why it took him so long to return. "You...!"
Zell leaned over Irvine's back as he rubbed his anus roughly. He licked the shell of Irvine's ear as he pulled the tie out of that flowing long hair. "If you had any idea..." Zell murmured in his ear. "I've wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. I thought it would always be a fantasy. And then you stopped talking to me, started avoiding me. I thought you'd caught on, and couldn't bear to look at me."
"I couldn't bear to look at you," Irvine's breath shuddered, overcome by even this slight, teasing pleasure, "because every time I did, I got an erection. I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want to risk losing you. I was a coward," he admitted, cut off by a gasp as he felt Zell's lips on the arch of his back, his tongue lapping at the line of his spine, pushing his duster further up to expose as much of that slender back as possible without taking the time to actually undress him.
"If you won't even say hello to me, you already did, stupid," Zell complained.
Zell was right, but Irvine couldn't answer. His breath was stolen right from his lungs as Zell's tongue dipped into the top of his crevice. He moaned. "Z-Zell..."
"Keep watching them," Zell said, his own voice cracking with desire now. "We're on a mission. One of us is supposed to be watching at all times."
Irvine shuddered. He may have had several kinky fantasies centered around the tattooed blond, but he never thought, even for an instant, that he was actually the kinky sort. It made him want Zell all the more. "Tell me what they're doing," Zell said, gaining confidence from Irvine's eager reactions. He had had so many wet dreams about Irvine, hundreds about his cute ass alone, and he didn't have a clue which one he wanted to start with. As the hot dogs were cold and chipping ice off of a blizzard spell would take too long, he decided to start small, dragging his tongue slowly down Irvine's very accessible crack...
Irvine turned back to the lens, shivering at Zell's thorough attention to his bottom. The blond looked out of breath, dripping sweat, his cock only half hard. The redhead was now straddling the silver haired man's face. Irvine's thighs twitched as he realized what was happening.
"Th-the blond just came," he stuttered. "Now the redhead is sitting on the silver haired man's face," he gasped as Zell's tongue reached his anus and swirled around it. "Th—aah, fuck! Nngh!-- the silver haired man is sucking the cum out of his ass. Th-aahff...the black man and the silver haired man were both up the blonde's ass..."
Zell moaned against Irvine's hole at that. Irvine knew what he meant – Zell had imagined himself as the blond, just as Irvine had. Zell's excitement egged him on. "...but the black man just pulled out..."
Zell's tongue started to wiggle into his hole, pulling a rather eager moan from Irvine as his back arched more to get closer to that delicious sensation. "...nngh! They must have taken something, they're all still mostly hard. The black man p-paah—pushed the blond forward to suck the redhead's cock. N-now he's climbing over him, g-grabbing onto the headboard..."
Irvine's hand started jerking on his own cock again. Between Zell's mouth opening wide and his tongue delving deep inside of his tight hole, licking his innards, and the impossibly pornographic scene playing out before him, he wasn't going to last very long. "Th-! The black man just rammed his cock down the redhead's throat. He's c-claaah—clutching the headboard, fucking his face. The si-silver haired ma---aaan--" he had to break off to pant, try to catch his breath, which, he found, was impossible with another man's tongue up his asshole. "The silver haired man bent up his kn-knees. He's thrusting up into the blonde ha-ha-hhaaarrddd. Th-the come is leaking out of the blond around the e-edges with each thrust...ooh, fuck, Zell...please!!" he begged, eyes tearing and blurring the scene a bit. He blinked to try to focus, and Zell pulled his mouth back.
Irvine released a shuddering breath. He thought Zell was going to give him a moment's reprieve, but without an instant's delay, two moist fingers rammed into his tongue-stretched hole. Irvine arched and sobbed in both dismay and delight. It felt wonderful – a bit of a pinch, but he liked it, and he loved that it was Zell doing it. But, on the other hand, he was distressed because he knew he was going to come too soon and humiliate himself. He could feel the pressure building in his balls, and shifted his hand further down his shaft to try to hold his impending ejaculation at bay. Between the visual and physical stimulation, he was overwhelmed.
"Put it on the projection lens," Zell rasped, the sound of his voice betraying his need. "It's the middle of the night. No one will see it." Well, the four men trapped deep in orgasmic bliss could from their location, but they were otherwise occupied.
Irvine was in no condition to see any more common sense than Zell, or remember that if anyone who did catch a glimpse of the white light of the projection lens would know their exact location. All he could think of was the sex. He fumbled to hit the appropriate keys to pull up the screen. It took a bit longer than it should, but the smaller telescopic lens folded away and a larger television-sized lens pulled up, displaying the scene rather clearly for both of them as Zell's third and fourth finger forced themselves into Irvine's hole. Stretching. Spreading. Thrusting.
Zell groaned at the sight. If Irvine's writhing, eager body wasn't enough, the projection pulled up just in time to watch the redhead swallowing the bald man's load, it leaking out the corner of his mouth, his fingers curled tightly into the blonde's hair as his hips pulsed with desire between the oral attention he received from both ends. It was easy to imagine that redhead as Irvine, writhing in bliss and sobbing, so close to orgasm. He looked down at his beautiful cowboy, rubbed his thumb across the lip of his stretched hole. "I think you can fit one more," he whispered.
When he felt that thumb rubbing him, Irvine knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Zell was going to make sure it fit. He squeezed his balls tight to keep himself from coming on the spot. Once he knew it, Zell's passion-heavy voice made him beg shamelessly for it. "I can fit as much as you want me to take," he rasped. He wanted to stop there, but words continued to spill past his lips. "Please, Zell, give me more." He lifted his ass higher, closer to his beloved, and whimpered. "I want your fist up my ass...I want it..." he whimpered. "Please give it to me...Zell, please..." he didn't even know what he was saying. He just knew it felt wonderful, and he was going to come, and the foursome on the screen was demonstrating exactly the level of sexual depravity he wanted to enjoy with the man he loved.
As Zell slipped in his thumb and worked his hand into Irvine , past the broad span of his knuckles, slipping it into the wrist, pushing it further to see how much of his arm Irvine's eager ass could swallow, the blond finally climbed off of the silver haired man's significant cock. They had an incredible view of that severely stretched hole, the gobs of cum dripping out of it, before he turned himself around, licking up a dribble of the redhead's seed, and started sucking the just-spent, softening cock that had been planted deep in his ass for several hours. The dark-skinned man and the redhead climbed off, spent, and left the couple to their own devices. The silver haired man pulled the blond to keep a thigh over either end of his face, and started drinking his own essence out of his abused hole.
"I'm going to do that to you," Zell whispered in Irvine's ear, digging his fingers into Irvine's prostate.
That was more than Irvine could stand. His efforts not to embarrass himself forgotten as he noticed the blond's belly was swollen from all the cum he'd taken up his ass, all the cum that the silver haired man was now quite content to devour, he cried out and jerked himself twice in desperate need before his body stiffened and his cock released his hot juice into the dirt, anus spasming around Zell's fist, as a loud, senseless cry of bliss pulled itself out of his throat. His head fell down against his forearm as he tried to remember how to breathe.
Zell leaned in, lapping at his ear. The scene on the projection, while still incredibly sexy, no longer mattered, so he reached past the breathless cowboy with the one hand he had available to him, and flipped the machine off. The other hand continued its attentions, rubbing the other man's prostate gently, not letting up for a moment. He was blind with passion, and while he'd found toying with Irvine's body in reality was hundreds of times more exciting than the fantasies, that alone wasn't enough. He was going to do so much more to the lascivious cowboy before he let Irvine rest.
"Please," Irvine sobbed at last. "...keep that promise," he rasped, uncertain of how he was even still holding his hips up by his own strength, let alone begging for more. "Fill me up, Zell," he panted. "Fill me up and suck me dry and treat me like the desperate tramp that you make me."
"I hope you don't say that to all the boys," Zell answered, sucking at Irvine's throat as he started pulling off the cowboy's duster.
"Only you, Zell," Irvine answered, finally gaining some ground now that the wild passion had calmed, just a bit, with his first mind-blowing orgasm. He helped Zell fight him out of his jacket, and sighed for the lack when he felt the sexy blond's hand retreat from his hole. After being so thoroughly stretched, the lack of penetration felt strange and uncomfortable. "Watching other boys might be fun sometimes, but only because I'm imagining you in their place." He turned and kissed the blond passionately. "I should have told you so ages ago."
"Damn right you should have," Zell sulked playfully at him. "You put me through hell. I thought you hated me, that you couldn't bear the thought of someone like me wanting you, fantasizing about you for so long." He pushed Irvine back into the dirt and tugged off his pants the rest of the way. He looked incredible, laying there with his thighs spread in the moonlight, ass stretched, that long, auburn hair loose and splayed about him, in nothing but that little purple vest.
Zell could wait no longer. He pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing the tattoos that Irvine had always suspected were hiding there – dancing across the collarbone, wrapped around his sides from just beneath his shoulder blades and dipping into his denim shorts to the top of his hip bone. Irvine's gaze followed the dips and curves of the black lines downward until the vicious bulge in Zell's shorts caught his attention. Trapped by denim, he couldn't get a real picture, but he could tell at least that Zell was big, just as he'd hoped.
Zell crawled forward over the cowboy and crushed their lips together eagerly. His cock was in agony, trapped inside of his pants like this when he was so hard, but... He moaned before he could even finish that thought. Irvine had slid his hand down and pressed it to the bulge. "Take these off," he complained.
Zell blushed and pulled the hand away. It wouldn't do for him to come in his pants now, when Irvine was being so needy and playful and so clearly begging for it. "I should warn you, I'm, uhm..." Zell blushed. "I'm kind of big, down there."
Irvine lifted himself up onto his elbow and kissed him. "I like big," he said. "Big guns, big hats, big muscles," he trailed his fingers down Zell's jaw and throat, over his well toned chest and stopped in the center of it, "big hearts and big cocks most of all."
He kissed Zell affectionately again, smoothing his hand over that strong, compact body. Of course, he rather liked small things, too, or at least short ones, but Irvine was a man of extremes, and he had never denied that, and he loved the way those two extremes played off of one another in Zell. That modest stature, and all the big things squished inside of it, so they seemed to bulge out with every ripple in every muscle.
Zell got up, leaving Irvine cold for the lack of his body heat, to pull off his shorts. Irvine's heart skipped a beat when he saw the blond's full, gloriously naked body. There was another tattoo wrapped around his thigh, but Irvine couldn't quite bring himself to notice any detail in it as he looked at, quite easily, a cock more than twice the size of the one his imagination had supplied. It was an impossible length and girth, so large that it was nearly comical – like a dildo of such epic proportions it must be a gag, because there's no way any body can fit that much cock inside of it. He just stared, his mind flooded with a whole new series of fantasies and mental images. Why, he was certain, Zell could easily suck himself off, even if he weren't terribly flexible. He decided he would very much like to see that, but, not just this second. He could also imagine trying to fit that entire beast down his throat. It was going to take a lot of practice, but it was one subject he was willing to study very hard to master. His own cock, which he'd always been rather proud of as being considerably larger than average, was dwarfed by the gargantuan rod Zell had been hiding in those baggy shorts all these years. Irvine licked his lips, ogling the shaft, eager to take it, or at least do his damnedest trying...over and over again, until he got it right, if necessary. He pulled Zell back down to the ground with him, caressing the hard pink flesh and watching Zell shudder at even the lightest touch, enjoying the weight of those heavy balls in his hand, and opening his mouth wide to lick at the blond's dripping tip.
Zell gripped his long hair, trying his hardest not too be too rough, and cursed several deities when Irvine's teeth grazed his tender flesh, and his tongue dipped into his slit. "Nghaaah!AAAAAhhhh!" Zell moaned loudly and with abandon, as if there was not another soul in the world. "I-Irvine stop..." he rasped. "I want to fuck you, not drown you."
Irvine pulled back with a smirk. "With the size of this thing, you might just do both at once," he quipped, leaning in to steal another kiss from Zell's sweet lips. "It just looked so delicious, I had to taste it," he added, suckling Zell's ear. Turnabout was fair play. Now Zell was the one who had been too hard for too long, and while he was quite excited about the prospect of trying to fit all of that up his ass, Zell was the one whose concentration was starting to suffer. "You know, if you ever get tired of SeeD, I think you can make a good career for yourself in porn."
"I don't want to fuck anyone but you," Zell answered frankly as the cowboy pushed him down to his back.
"I'll be your bitch whenever you want," Irvine quipped playfully. "What are you using as lube?" He really couldn't wait to take on the beast between Zell's legs.
Zell blushed. "...there was a jar of mayo in the food bag."
Irvine's brow arched. "You fisted me with mayonnaise?"
"You were hot, and not very patient. What was I supposed to do? Go half a mile back to the jeep for lotion?" Zell protested.
Irvine laughed. "Mayo it is. My asshole is going to taste awesome." It was a lame joke, and Zell's eye roll told him so, but he couldn't help himself as he found the uncapped jar only a long stretch away, and started working the egg product all over Zell's cock.
Zell's fingers dug into the ground, his toes curled and his thighs flexed as Irvine worked his highly sensitive erection. He hadn't felt another man's hands on him in ages, not since he and Squall were roommates, and it was wonderful. He just had to will himself to last. His stamina was pretty good, but after toying with that tall, slender body for so long, his nerve endings were on fire.
Irvine finished slicking up the large rod, and gave Zell another passionate kiss. They both shivered in anticipation of what was coming as the cowboy stood to place a foot on either side of Zell's tattooed torso, then began to slowly squat, as if lowering himself into a chair.
Zell bit his lip, and held his hard pole steady, adjusting to Irvine's descent. Irvine bit his lip when he felt the blunt tip against his pucker and took a deep breath as he forced the head inside. "Oooh!" So hot! So thick! And those things only became more obvious as he took more, easing himself down, remembering to breathe.
Zell's hands rested on his hips, his knees bent upward, and Irvine put his hands behind himself on them to support some of his weight, so his quivering thighs didn't have to. About halfway down, Irvine paused, biting his lip. He felt like he was at his limit, but he knew he could take more. He wanted to feel the entire thing deep in his belly, if he had any say in the matter. He panted, pulled off a little, pushed down a bit harder, and managed to take another inch. "Zell," he whimpered desperately. It was so much, but he was greedy. He wanted more. He wanted it all.
Zell took his wrists and pulled him forward. Irvine's hands, planted on either side of Zell's head, dug into the ground and his arms shook. Zell lifted his head to kiss him. "Shhh," he said. "It's okay, Irvine. It's too much. I told you..."
"No..." Irvine groaned. "I can do it. It feels good." Okay, it did sting a bit. It was already in far deeper than Zell had shoved his fist, but he wanted it, desperately, if he could just get his hole to relax and accept the blissful intrusion. "Just....nngh...help me a little," he pleaded, trying to push down further and meeting some resistance.
Zell was doing all he could to contain his passion. He didn't want to hurt Irvine, but the cowboy was impossibly tight, squeezing like a vice around his need, begging him to force it deeper. Two parts of his brain warred with each other. One said that Irvine had already taken more than he could handle, and he should just settle for half-thrusts, which he was rather accustomed to as the norm, that if he pushed for anything more, he would hurt the man he loved. The other side, the one with the much louder voice, was telling him that the most gorgeous man he'd ever laid eyes on was begging for it. That those tears welling at the corners of Irvine's eyes weren't pain, but frustration at not being able to take Zell's cock down to the balls on the first try. "I don't want to hurt you," Zell rasped.
"Hurt me," Irvine begged. "It will only be for an instant." He wiggled his hips, trying to find the right angle to force it in further. He forgot to breathe for an instant as it slid in another half an inch, but he froze, shaking, because that particular angle happened to make Zell's shaft drag rather firmly across his prostate.
Zell caved in, unable to deny Irvine, and equally unable to hold himself back when the cowboy was literally begging to be skewered. He bit his lip, gripped Irvine's hips hard to keep him steady, braced his feet, and thrust up hard and fast, the last three and a half inches piercing deep.
Irvine let out a silent scream. It was such a shock to the system, that abrupt thrust. And, Zell was right. It hurt. For a moment, he couldn't move. He could scarcely breathe, but then his anus relaxed, his spine turned to jelly, and his lungs filled with air, all at once. His entire body felt like it was pulsing. The blood thundered in his ears. His cock throbbed. And, that moment of sharp pain faded. He tentatively lifted his torso and sat fully in Zell's lap, and quite suddenly, a loud sob of pleasure erupted from some distant source that he only belatedly realized was him. The intense pleasure of having Zell's behemoth deep in his belly, pressing heavily against his prostate, his body just began to quiver and he cried out before the intense sensation of pleasure reached his brain. On the one hand, he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk straight for the next several days. On the other, why in the world should he care?! Squall said not to return until he and Zell had made up. He could easily fib and drag this out until his libido was ready to take a break. He forced himself to breathe, and leaned forward, just a bit, to press his hands against Zell's chest.
Zell could only watch the glorious sight of Irvine, wracked with pleasure and unable to control himself, in a state of silent ecstasy. Even if he wanted to moan, like Irvine, he had no real control over his vocal chords at this point. That's when Irvine lifted his hips slowly, pushed them down slowly – having no trouble taking Zell to the balls the second time. The third and fourth strokes were also painfully tentative, before Irvine adjusted again and tried another tact, lowering his knees to the ground, which altered the angle slightly –Oh holy mother of Hyne!!!-- and ground his hips forward. Zell's cock slipped in and out, if only by an inch or two, as Irvine rocked his hips.
"Aaaaoooo---ooooohhh!" Irvine wailed in pleasure. That was just right. Perfect. Zell's mayo-slick cock rolling and sliding in his body as he writhed was utter bliss. His nipples were so hard he felt like they were going to fall off, his dick twitched in agony, but he didn't touch it. He didn't want to. The pain of his untouched arousal only intensified the pleasure of his over-stuffed anus.
The steady rhythm he'd worked up intensified in both pressure and pace. His grinding became shorter and faster. More eager. Harder, as if he was trying to slam down on Zell's indecently large cock so hard and take it so deep that it would come out his throat. His body glistened with sweat in the moonlight. Zell couldn't endure it. Tears pooled in his eyes and fell – it was the first time he'd been unable to hold back his tears since he'd been a child. "Irvine," he rasped, and didn't recognize his own voice for the harshness. "Irviiine, I....ah-aaahh....aaah!"
Zell's body tensed, then started to shake violently as orgasm overcame him, and his hot essence poured up into the cowboy he so adored.
Irvine also began to shake screaming out an unfathomable string of senseless noises as his balls tensed and his come spurted out with such velocity that several streams of his hot spunk splattered across his lover's face and into his wide open mouth. Once it was over, he completely ran out of strength. All he had the energy for was to slow his descent as he fell forward against his passionate lover. It took him several minutes to even muster the energy to lift his hips enough to let Zell's softened cock slip out, and with it, no small quantity of the seed released into his loose bottom. He didn't even dare trying to find his voice, or the right words to say – anything he might utter would only ruin it.
They laid just like that for nearly an hour before their strength came back, albeit sluggishly, and they willed themselves to move off of the ground. The night was getting cold, and they would only get sick if they spent it out in the open. They shared a canteen of water and a soapy rag to do a cursory clean-up. There was nowhere they could take a shower besides the city for miles, and it was far too late at night to make a fuss about a hotel room now. Besides, they would have to get dressed for that, and Irvine stared at his chaps for a moment before he was able to muster the energy to even pick the damn things up.
Zell dashed what was left of the fire, packed up their surveillance equipment, and loaded it into the jeep – yes, the jeep that was half a mile away, and yes, he did so butt naked. It was quite a sight, Irvine thought as he trailed behind – all those muscles working to push boxes into an overhead rack and chain them in place. That beautiful cock left to hang free from a nest of blond curls. He was awed by Zell's energy, even after such an intense fuck. He could barely carry his gun, the half empty canteen strapped over his shoulder, and their clothes tossed haphazardly over his arm, his cowboy hat, of course, was no trouble, resting casually atop his head, but having bent to get it from the ground made his spine turn to jelly for a moment. Zell, on the other hand, was perfectly content to load up two boxes of surveillance equipment and a backpack full of canned goods.
The blond hopped down out of the back of the jeep once he was certain he'd fastened everything in properly, and zipped the back flap closed. He grinned at Irvine as he finally caught up and, quite content in his own nudity for the moment, put his hands on Irvine's cheeks, pulling the other down to him for a kiss. That was one thing, Irvine decided, he would never run out of energy for. He dropped their clothes to wrap his arms around Zell, held him close.
"We should sleep," he said at last.
"We should," Zell conceded. He didn't want to. What if he woke up and this had all just been an unbelievably erotic and very realistic dream? But, he could still taste Irvine's seed on his tongue, smell the sex on his beloved's only barely cleaned skin, and willed this to be real because these things, and the warm arms around him, were things he just wasn't willing to let go of.
He pulled Irvine by the wrist around to the other side of the jeep, and playfully opened the door for him.
Irvine awarded him with a smirk, and Zell found himself resisting new arousal at the sight of that perfect ass – a bit red yet from their love-making – climbing inside.
Irvine settled, turned toward the blond, and held his hand out.
Zell was more than happy to take it as support as he climbed right into the passenger seat with him, straddling his lap and flipping the switch to lower the seat back before closing the door. He lowered himself against Irvine's chest. The cowboy put his hat down on the driver's seat and wrapped his arms around Zell once again. And, after a few (dozen) good night kisses, they drifted off into the deepest slumber either could recall.
*
For Irvine, the morning after began in the usual way, but also in a very unusual way. Usual, because he woke with an erection as if he were still a teenage boy whose hormones still determined his every action. It was unusual because he could feel a matching erection pressed against his own. He also had a very distinct ache that ran from his thighs straight up to the back of his neck. He found he didn't mind the pain in the least when he remembered the previous night. The pain only meant he was just going to have to spend a LOT of time practicing. 'With a little help from Zell, of course,' he mused, quite happy about that prospect.
The blond moaned and shifted against him, looking up blearily. That sleepy-eyed look settled it for Irvine – he wanted more sex, but his ass wasn't even remotely ready for another round.
Zell wiped his eyes with the back of his fist and looked up at the tousle-haired cowboy. He shifted his weight, causing their groins to slide together, and Irvine really couldn't swear he hadn't done it on purpose.
"Morning," Zell murmured, leaning up for a tentative kiss that was only tentative for a moment before their tongues were tangling and Irvine found his hands (mysteriously) sliding over Zell's firm ass.
"Where did we put that mayonnaise?" he replied.
Zell's eyes sparkled with laughter. "I think I can reach it," he said. "Hang on..." He stretched out a muscular arm, sliding further up Irvine's torso until his fingers closed around the bag, fumbled open the tie. Several canned goods came flying out, and only barely managed to not clock either of them on the head, though Irvine thought he was going to have a bruise on his forearm to match the pair of finger-shaped ones on his hips. He was sore everywhere from the previous night's adventure, so he didn't see as one more would make the least bit of difference.
With only a bit more fumbling, Zell was sitting, straddling his lap with a stupid grin and half a jar of mayonnaise in hand. "Got it," he laughed at the disastrous clatter. "You sure you can handle another go?" he asked.
"I'm not going to," Irvine replied, snatching the jar and picking up his hat – he didn't want to get the egg product all over his favorite accessory. He plunked it on Zell's head. "You are," he finished, kissing Zell's tattoo.
Zell seemed to rather like that idea, because his tongue was down Irvine's throat before the lid even hit the seat. Irvine wasted no time slicking up a few fingers and start teasing the blonde's entrance. Zell – charming little nymph that he was, pushed his ass back against the digits as he continued his vain attempts to swallow Irvine's tongue whole. His massive cock rubbed against Irvine's torso. The constant reminder of Zell's size made him want to ride it into oblivion again very, very soon, and he was considering the possible side effects of pouring a high potion or three into his asshole to speed along the recovery process as his third finger slipped into Zell's unresisting hole.
Zell didn't flinch in the slightest in spite of the abrupt preparation. He was perfectly relaxed, and thoroughly enjoying feeling of flesh plunging into him instead of plastic for a change.
Three fingers was all Irvine had the patience for. He pushed Zell's shoulders back against the dashboard. It took them both a bit of adjusting, but Zell's knees unfolded, and Irvine tucked his own up beneath him – the seat still back flat enough to accommodate his long legs and give him some leverage. He pressed his hands aligned, then shoved himself inside in one smooth, clean thrust.
Both men moaned in delight. The tight suction of Zell's hole was more than enough to help him ignore the way his spine ached and his thighs burned with each thrust.
Abruptly, Irvine realized he could probably fuck Zell and suck him off at the same time. He rather liked that idea, so he took Zell's cock in hand, and bent his head to the task. He opened his mouth wide to close it around his lover's head.
Zell cried out, his fingers denting the passenger side door in his passion. When Irvine started to thrust his hips again, pushing Zell's cock deeper into his mouth, then letting it slide out before pushing it in again, Zell's passion only increased. His arm flailed, and he accidentally tore off the steering wheel. Okay, that was a problem, one they should focus on, but focusing was impossible with the dual pleasure of Irvine's mouth and cock consuming him.
Irvine found he rather enjoyed fucking Zell's cock up into his own mouth. He contorted himself as much as possible to receive as much of the member as he could, using his hand to stroke the rest of Zell's flesh. Zell's weight supported by the dashboard, Irvine decided to use both hands for the task – one on Zell's shaft, the other groping his heavy balls. He fucked, sucked, licked, and moaned around the feast Zell had to offer anyone who was man enough to try to swallow it. Irvine's eagerness worked wonders on his sexual prowess, and before long, he felt the thick rod breach into back of his throat.
Zell cried out, his fingers digging into both the door and the center console. A few sparks flew from the console, but they were too preoccupied with their own sparks to notice. Zell sobbed out his pleasure. Irvine moaned – a thick, muffled sound – around the cock he was ritually, and with quickening, hardening thrusts, plunging deep down his own throat.
Tears welled in Zell's eyes. He'd been such a baby when he was a kid, that he refused to let tears flow now, but if there was ever a situation that called for one, the building crescendo in his lower stomach was that situation. He tried to hold them, just as he tried to hold his orgasm, but he tossed his head, his arms flailed and, with a curse, he accidentally put his fist right through the console. "Nngh, fuck!" He turned his head toward what turned out to be a darn good view under the hood from the wrong side, but he couldn't worry about it now. It was hard to think about the several ways in which Squall would kill him, when Irvine was busy killing him with cock-play: all the sucking and fondling, and that rod ramming itself up his ass over and over again. His mind swam. His breath hitched, and with a cry, his anus clamped around Irvine's wild stallion and he came.
Irvine tried to swallow the release. He really did, but Zell's shaft wasn't the only thing about that delectable rod that was king-sized. His mouth filled to quickly, and this excited Irvine to no end. After several mouthfuls, he could stand no more and tore his head away, his own climax overcoming him while he was buried to the balls in Zell's ass. Zell's release splattered up in arches large enough to soil their bodies, the dashboard, the roof...
By the time their orgasm wound down, they looked like they'd just dropped out of a bukkake film.
Before they had time to fully recover, they heard a very loud bang, and steam started coming out of the hole Zell had punched in the dash in the heat of the moment. Irvine made a quick decision and shoved the door open, rolling their naked bodies out to the ground and away from the vehicle, which promptly caught fire. They watched in shock as everything they'd brought with them – aside from Irvine's cowboy hat, and the clothes that were still outside on the ground from the night before – proved kindling for the explosive vehicle.
Zell dropped his head against Irvine's shoulder. "Oh, man. Squall is going to kill us!" he declared. "Me in particular!" After all, Irvine was capable of so many amazing things, but making a car explode with fists and cum alone, that was a rare talent that Zell knew had his name written all over it.
Vroooommm. Vrooommmm...
Zell turned his head over his shoulder, just as a pair of motorcycles stopped near the wreckage. He paled, recognizing the bald man, and the redhead from last night's porno show.
Reno tipped his goggles up on top of his head, taking in the view: one jeep, in flames. Check. One blonde with an ass full of cum and easily the biggest cock he'd ever seen in his life. Check. A brunette with a string of cum dripping down from the corner of his lips to his chin – the pair covered in seed. "I think the boss'll like these two, eh Rude?" he quipped.
Irvine and Zell struggled to get up to defend themselves, but it was comical in their current state of sexual satiety and indisputable shock.
Reno waved his hands. "Relaaaxxx," he said. "We saw a light up here last night, came to check it out. Boss has a stalker, see. Asked us to see if it was her fucking around up here last night. Thought maybe he finally scared her off. But! It looks like we found something just as good."
"We know all about her," Irvine sighed, sitting up, wiping that dripping trail of seed from his chin, and resisting the urge to lick it off his hand.
That statement alone told the turks all they really needed to hear. It sounded like there was something interesting going on. "Come back to the mansion. You can both use a shower," Reno said in a friendly sort of way. "And, the boss will want to talk to you."
Irvine and Zell exchanged a look. This was dangerous, but a) they didn't have much choice with nothing but the clothes (not) on their backs as their only possessions for the moment and b) a shower sounded incredible.
It was another three weeks before they finally left Deling and returned to Garden, three weeks that got Irvine all the 'practice' he would ever need to handle Zell's big cock, his big libido, and, biggest of all, the big love they shared, which was so intense, so passionate, and so indefinable, that only sex stood a chance of describing just how overwhelming their feelings for one another truly were.
...Well, sex and three years worth of payments to Garden for one exploded jeep and two cases of surveillance equipment, that is.
~The End~
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