Percival Graves enjoys sex, but in the beginning, he hadn't really anticipated just how much.
"Hop on, sweetheart," says the man on the bed. He has his hand around the base of his cock, holding it upright for Percival to use.
Percival has been fucked before. He finds it surprisingly enjoyable considering all the horror stories he's heard about pain and bleeding. There's this spot inside him that seems to light on fire whenever there's a cock inside him, and while he knows that he likes the stretch of being filled, he's never been in control of it before. Still, there's nothing to fear, he thinks. His thighs are oily from all the prep, and his hole feels like it's gaping -- a wide open, hungry mouth that's ready to accept whatever Percival deems fit to feed it.
He climbs on.
His eyes are heavy, lidded with pleasure as he sinks down. There's nothing quite like that first thrust. Fingers can stretch him out all they like, but a cock is so much heavier and thicker. He thinks he can feel the way his body has to rearrange itself to accommodate the intrusion. He licks the back of his teeth with a sigh and rolls his hips down, down, down until he's taken the man's cock in to the base.
His partner -- oh, Percival supposes he learned the man's name at some point, but he can't think of it now -- smooths his hands over Percival's thighs. His expression is gentle, encouraging, kind. There's a patient awareness in his eyes of how young Percival is. He wants this to be good for Percival. The idea of Percival wanting to come back for more is enough to stay any aggressive desires.
Percival gauges out his hips' movements, tight grunts huffing past his lips as he figures out the angle to hit his own prostate, and once he does... Oh, he uses this man's dick for his own pleasure. He squeezes around it, revelling in its girth, and grinds down on it relentlessly. He scratches his narrow fingers down his partner's chest and laughs softly, delightedly, when that makes the cock in his ass throb . He doesn't particularly care if the man underneath him starts to get frustrated, so long as his dick stays hard. Percival thinks he could ride this dick for hours.
The hands on his hips seem so wide when they splay out. Big, big hands. Big groping hands. They're strong -- strong enough to hold him as his partner starts to thrust up in earnest. There's an angry edge to those thrusts, but his partner's desire for him is no less now than it was a few minutes ago. If anything, the man's frustration has wiped away his need to be so gentle , and Percival has to brace himself with his arms, elbows locked, in order to stay upright.
"Oh," he moans, mouth sagging open.
"Yeah, you like that?"
"Yeah," Percival breathes, lashes fluttering and cheeks going pink. "Fuck, yeah... I like it... ahh--"
His hole feels so hot, more so now that he's being pounded into, and he tosses his head back to get his sweaty hair out of his face. Leaning back changes the angle again -- just right. He skims his hands up the front of his body, twisting briefly over his own nipples, and then drops them back to grab at his ass. He spreads his cheeks and has to pause as the feeling of exposure intensifies.
His partner curses. "Your ass is a fucking dream, baby."
Percival conjures a mirror behind him and looks over his shoulder with hooded eyes.
He wants to see .
The other man's cock is average, he thinks, but it looks huge as it plunges inside him. The way it forces his hole to stretch and stretch to accommodate its girth is obscene. Mercy, he doesn't think his hole has ever been so red -- like it's blushing, embarrassed by the way Percival has decided to use it or humiliated by the way Percival derives such pleasure from it.
His partner comes inside him with a groan, cock shoved in to the root, hips jerking and twitching, thick fingers at Percival's hips holding their bodies fast together. Heat suffuses Percival body at the feeling of being filled. He grabs at his own cock with one hand, fisting himself furiously in the effort to get off while his partner is still hard inside him. He glances back at the mirror at the last second, sees thick globs of white leaking out around his partner's cock, and comes with a hot groan.
He keeps twisting his hand around his cock, milking himself of every drop. He bites his lower lip at how sore his hole feels suddenly, but even the soreness feels good in its own way -- like that, too, is something worth exploring.
He imagines a second man lined up for him, having waited patiently for his turn -- imagines that man shoving Percival over and fucking into his hurting little hole, soothing the pain with the pleasure of being filled again. Percival shudders, fingers tight around his cock as he squeezes out another pulse of come.
"Merlin," his partner says gruffly, panting. "You're insatiable."
Yes, Percival thinks mournfully. That's true.
Then he yanks the man's head to the side and sinks his fangs into his throat.
The blood is going to waste if it isn't filling his cock, and Percival is still hungry .