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Tempest

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Nasir’s eyes clasped shut as he was breached. The thin tissue provided the only comfort in his actions. The darkness let him separate from actuality. It took a while to adjust. He hissed with each short stroke, only a few inches were initially allowed. It wasn’t the size of the cock, it was him. He was resisting the thing he thought he wanted. The burn shot through his body tipping the balance of pleasure and pain. But both were welcomed because he needed to feel something—something other than despondency. He breathed deeply and tried to relax…. After some time his muscles pushed out allowing him to be completely entered. He gasped at the intrusion but breathed through the ache.

The pace began to quicken, before he was ready but Nasir didn’t slow him down. The sooner it was over the better. Interloping hands ran over his skin. They hooked on to his shoulders, seized locks of his hair and pushed his legs back as he was fucked. They felt dull and grasping like they were not touching him for him. They traced his body eagerly, delighting in what was not theirs.

The created heat was thick and seemed to congregate around them instead of dispersing into the room. It was not the warmth and comfort Nasir usually felt. He felt smothered under it. Pants echoed against the walls accompanied by the steady sound of perspired skin colliding. Uncontrollably, Nasir’s hips pivoted down toward the jutting cock and he clutched his sides. His body was desperate. It wanted to be ravaged and sated. It had been months since….

Breath entered his mouth and he quickly turned away. The inevitable kiss was redirected to land on his neck instead.

‘So good’ and ‘fucking hot’ was whispered in his ear but Nasir said nothing. He even withheld the sounds of his pleasure, the moans and words that usually flowed freely with pride. He would not grant them to himself and especially not to him. The thrusts increased in sped and force, with little thought but to find an end. Grunts punctuated the last few strokes and he came.

Nasir grabbed his cock and jerked furiously, almost painfully, quickly capitalizing on the built pressure inside him. He soon spurted cum over his chest. He came hard but quietly. Bated breaths were all he offered. He lay for some time under the weight until he could no longer ignore the feel of a watch upon him. With dread he opened his eyes to a gaze. But they were not the playful caring green eyes he knew, not the ones he loved—the ones that held him in the center. These eyes did not need him, challenge him, depend on him, trust him or smile because of him. These orbs had no depth and could not connect with his soul. They looked at him, not inside. These eyes did not love him.

Nasir’s breath caught sharply in his throat almost choking him.

He was not Agron. What had Nasir done?