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Stede’s forearm is a hot brand across Izzy’s chest, pressing him into the polished wood of the cabin wall. It’s also the only thing keeping him upright as Stede pulls his softening cock from Izzy’s cunt, leaving a tacky trail of come and slick in his wake.
Stede purses his lips with a disapproving hum, and chases his own spend with two fingers, scooping up what mess he can reach before sliding those fingers into Izzy’s cunt, utterly without ceremony. Izzy keens as they slide through the liquid mess inside him. He rolls his hips in frustration, waiting for Stede to curl his hand, or press his thumb to Izzy’s dick, or–
Oh.
Oh.
Stede isn’t going to do any of those things. He’s merely playing with his own come, delighting in the wet, easy slide as he urges it deeper inside Izzy with the filthy press of his fingers. Izzy screws his eyes shut in resignation, which means he can’t see the smirk on Stede’s face.
But he can hear it when he speaks. “Look at you. Your hole is so hungry for it. We wouldn’t want to let any go to waste, would we?”
Izzy’s only response is to groan in frustration.
“Would you let me plug you up?” Stede punctuates the question with the slick nudge of a third finger against Izzy’s entrance. “Let me see how many fingers it takes to stop you leaking? Bet you could take my whole hand, loose and wet as you are.”
Izzy’s thoughts grind to a stuttering halt. His eyes snap open, and this time Stede is staring straight back. Even though he’s just come, his eyes are molten, pupils blown wide and wanting. Izzy can only guess the same desperation is reflected in his own.
He nods once, lips parted, and Stede sinks to his knees.
His third finger slides into Izzy without resistance, and then he’s rotating his wrist, driving his fingers deep, finding just the right angle to slip his pinky inside as his thumb strokes at Izzy’s outer lips. He studiously avoids Izzy’s cock, but it hardly matters when the inflexible press of his knuckles is lighting Izzy up from the inside.
At the first touch of Stede’s thumb to his hole, Izzy’s knees buckle. Stede must feel it coming though, because his other hand is at Izzy’s pelvis before he can pitch forward, anchoring him to the wall. The weight of Stede’s hand grounds him, a solid presence in the valley between the barrel of his abdomen and the soft mound of his cunt, right where the layer of hair coating his stomach begins to turn coarse and thick. He exhales, lets his muscles go lax and inviting, a soft whine of relief escaping his throat as Stede’s thumb finally slips inside.
Stede moans at that, a filthy sound that cuts sharply through the near-silence of the cabin. His neck is bent, eyes glued to the spot where his hand disappears inside Izzy’s cunt as he slowly begins to move his hand. He’s careful, at first, fucking into Izzy with shallow thrusts and slow turns of his wrist, letting him adjust to the fullness, the all-encompassing pressure of Stede’s fist inside him. It doesn’t take long, though, before Izzy is grinding down on his arm, pressing into the hand on his pelvis. Stede is surrounding him, inside and out.
Izzy’s neck is beginning to ache with the effort of watching him, but he can’t tear his eyes away—and it’s a good thing he doesn’t, because Stede’s tiny smirk is the only warning he gets before Stede’s lips close around his dick, and Izzy is coming so hard he nearly passes out.
Stede waits for his breath to return to normal before he removes his fingers in a slow, dirty slide—only to rub what remains of his own spend over Izzy’s swollen lips with the heavy press of his uncalloused palm. Izzy cants his hips into Stede’s hand without meaning to, seeking the slick pressure on his dick even as the contact invites more pain than pleasure. Stede rewards him with a light smack, and Izzy shudders, knees buckling for the second time that night. Immediately, Stede’s hands move to his hips, helping him slide carefully to the floor.
He doesn’t remove his hands once Izzy is seated, kneading at his sore hips with skilled fingers, moving slowly to massage his still-trembling thighs and speaking all the while.
“You were so good for me, Israel. Took me so well, my entire fist. Let me plug you right up. You’re incredible, do you know that? Didn’t leak a drop. I wonder if it took, if I’ll get to see you swollen with my seed. Do you think Ed will be jealous I'm the one who got to breed you?”
It’s those words that bring Izzy back to earth. His soul settles heavily back into his bones, and he lets out an annoyed huff—but he makes no move to stop Stede’s ministrations.
“I’m fucking fifty-six years old, you imbecile.”