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Trysts

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It is, somehow, refreshing to act like a horny teenager.

Brick and mortar are, no doubt, ruining his robes. The chill in the air makes it a necessity though; meaning the robes, because he is far too warm blooded to withstand such a chill. It seems his current companion is similarly affected, because he is pushing closer, his hands sliding down the mage’s back towards his ass even as he pushes into his lips. For a moment he holds a foolish thought of merely opening his coat and wrapping it around them both, but that is a touch too intimate for the lack of snow in the air that evening, and he forgets it.

Instead he relishes in not being the shortest party in such an encounter, tilting his head down to meet the elf kiss for kiss. Sharper teeth nibble at his lower lip, catch his tongue, and he a wicked smile smothers the moan that is falling out of his mouth. He thumbs dark lines that curve near a sparkling eye with interest only bested by the intent his other hand displays, fingers sliding past leather and searching for the laces of breeches. He finds a knife instead, pulling it off and shoving it in one of the Assassin’s belts, before returning to his task; it earns him a laugh. “Are you laughing at me?” He will pretend he sounds appropriately offended, because the other man has taken his pause as an opportunity to slip one hand away from his ass, and it palms him just right through his breeches. He pretends his breath does not catch and that he has to nervously swallow down a whine when those sharp teeth are pressed delicately against his throat.

At your eagerness? Never.

He ends up on his knees, after they’ve moved further into the shadows, and they’ve found a sack for him to kneel on. The hard ground will leave him complaining later on, but he is distracted enough at the moment he almost seems not to notice. He notices the Rogue’s eyes glinting, the sharpness of Elvhen eyes is always a touch startling, but so is choking on a cock. He refuses to lose focus, his breathing kept moderately even (considering the circumstances), and his jaw spread wide. He offers a little teeth, in revenge for the sharp points of bruises he will have to attend to on his throat, but his enraptured audience does not seem to mind. He will fuss about having his hair mussed later on, after there is no longer a fist clenching at dark strands and encouraging him to take it deeper. He manages to deep throat him once, a feat, considering they did not have any lube on them, and he is quite proud of himself. He swallows the salty cum that shortly follows out of some sort of smug rebellion and it earns him another laugh.

He would be much more upset about it if not for the nose pressing itself against his pubic bone and the moans that shake his cock as he pinches at the tip of a tapered ear.