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You'd been walking through the dusty wasteland for less than ten minutes when you realized what you'd done. You rolled your eyes and grumbled loudly to yourself. How could you forget your medpack? Sure, enough time on the surface had made you pretty tough by now, but trouncing around the Commonwealth without any Stimpaks was just plain stupid.
With a huge sigh, you spun on your heel and headed back in the direction of your camp. It was just an old, run-down fishing cabin at the edge of what had once been a small lake and now boasted only radioactive sludge and buzzing Bloodbugs. But it was secure enough to settle in for a couple of nights, as you and Hancock scoured the surrounding area for treasures - and killed a few raiders along the way, which was always fun.
Your companion has stayed behind, claiming he had to give his gun a good cleaning, so you'd set out on your own to scope out the area. But now you were headed right back, still annoyed at yourself for being forgetful as the cabin came into view. Maybe it was because you were tired? To be fair to yourself, traveling with Hancock included a lot of partying, late nights and general bad behavior which didn't lend itself to feeling well-rested in the AM.
You quickly bounded up the steps, avoiding the rusted tin can alarm hung with care from the porch rafters. "Hey," you started as you pushed open the creaking cabin door, "I forgot my - "
Hancock, who had been sitting in an armchair in the corner of the room shot up like a bullet and started fumbling with something in his lap frantically. "Oh! H-Hey!"
"Wha..." You stared at him, taken-aback as you watched him messing wildly with the waistband of his pants. His shirt was undone and rumpled, exposing most of his chest. You spotted the stars & stripes flag he usually wore tied around his waist in a pile on the floor, next to the chair. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah, fine, fine. So good. Yup." He sounded a bit breathless as he straightened up, leaning awkwardly against the wall with his arm above his head at an angle. His chest was heaving, and his skin was oddly flushed. "Just great."
"Are you sure...?" You started, utterly confused as you watched him try to catch his bearings. You couldn't imagine Hancock would be hiding something trivial like doing drugs. And then, slowly, as you regarded his flushed face and half-undone clothing, it dawned on you. "Oh. Oh." You felt the betrayal of a matching blush abruptly rising on your face. "Were you, ummm..?"
"I can neither confirm nor deny anything," Hancock replied, regaining some of his regular candor and flashing a half-guilty grin. "All I’ll admit is that I expected you to be gone longer."
"Shit... sorry." You were still standing in the open doorway, now feeling just as flustered as he had looked when you first burst in. You could feel your cheeks reddening further as the pair of you stood there like statues in a stand-off, facing each other and simply staring as your brain ran at a hundred miles a minute. The tension in the air was physical.
Then Hancock broke it with, "Well, I'd invite you in, but I've still got a raging hard-on, so that might make things awkward. Can you give me like, five minutes?"
"Yup," you squeaked, feeling slightly faint. "I c-can do that..." Your eyes flickered down past his waistband before you could stop yourself, quickly tearing back up to his face. "I, uh..."
But for all the panic in your chest and the fire on your cheeks for having walked in on Hancock apparently pleasuring himself, a different sort of heat was beginning to rise deep inside your stomach that had nothing to do with embarrassment. Instead, it had everything thing to do with thinking about him in that chair, tearing his shirt open with abandon, tugging his cock out of his pants and using the other hand to push down his open fly as he began to stroke himself, long and slow as his breath quickened. Still holding the doorknob, you'd taken a single step backwards. But…
But...
"... you want a hand?" The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Hancock's eyes widened, looking just as shocked by your words as you felt at speaking them aloud. His inky black gaze searched yours for a moment, as if waiting for you to take it back. When you didn't, his shoulders visibly relaxed and a slow grin spread across his mouth as his lean became much more nonchalant.
"Well, now. I can't say no to an offer like that, can I?"
His expression now swam with a pleased sort of heat, and you felt your own shoulders relax a bit as he flashed you a very suggestive look, tucking a scarred hand casually back down the front of his pants. Your eyes zeroed in on the motion, watching shamelessly. Slowly, you closed the door behind you with a click and walked across the room towards the ghoul.
As you closed in on him, fingers twitching in anticipation and the flush on your cheeks beginning to feel more pleasant, he spoke again in a low, raspy voice that sparked a flame inside you. "So, how you wanna do this, beautiful?"
You thought about it for a second - really, you wanted badly to just go for it, reach in and tangle your hands in the loose fabric of his clothing, tug and tear at it, becoming feral yourself... were you really doing this? "Why don't you sit back down in that chair?"
He stayed there for a moment, standing close and looking down into your eyes, expression full of a heated, rising hunger. Even still, he seemed to be waiting for you, just in case you changed your mind - but you weren’t about to. Finally he nodded, intentionally brushing his body against yours as he turned and strolled across the room, taking a seat.
Somehow, even sprawled casually in a dusty old armchair, John Hancock managed to look like a king on his throne. His long legs spread open and waiting, one elbow leaning on the arm rest, with his tilted head resting on a fist as he watched you intently, a secretive little smirk on his scarred mouth. His other hand stayed half tucked into his waistband, up to the knuckles while his thumb flicked at his fly.
Ah, shit. He was hot. If you'd had any reservations about your rash decision to "give him a helping hand", well, they were quickly disappearing in a fog, swept away in the radstorm that was the goddamned pirate zombie king of Goodneighbour.
His eyes glittered like beetles as you walked over and knelt down in front of him. Despite his casual confidence, you still heard his breath hitch as he found you suddenly in between his legs. Feeling too shy to look up at his face, you ran your hands slowly up the tops of his thighs, letting your eyes enjoy wandering the view directly in front of you instead. The dark fabric of his pants, peppered lightly with the inevitable dust of wasteland travel, top button of his fly already undone. His soft, billowy white shirt open to his waist, still half-tucked in but revealing a wide swath of his bare chest and stomach, a mass of scars and radiation burns that held his skin tight against his muscles, looking painful. But it was irresistible to you, and you couldn't stop your hands from bypassing his waist and going straight to that naked skin, pulling his shirt tails out as you did it so that you could run your fingers up his stomach, all the way up to his chest, relishing in the warmth of him, the uneven texture of his skin, the surprising softness of the endless scars covering every inch of him.
There were people who could never imagine touching a ghoul like this. Most people, probably. But not for you, and especially not with the particular ghoul in front of you. To be fair, Hancock never seemed to have too much trouble convincing others into this sort of thing...
You heard him let out a contented sigh as you stroked his chest, and you peeked up at him. His head was leaned back, eyes closed and mouth slightly open as he breathed in deeply, chest expanding under your hands. "You touch me so nicely," he muttered, as if it were a surprise.
"Of course," you murmured, eyes back down at his body sprawled in the chair before you, feeling the warmth of him all around you. "Just wait, I'll get even nicer in a second."
As your fingers found his fly, he quickly slid his own hand out of his pants, revealing an obvious tent within them. You swallowed a bit roughly, trying not to bite your lip as you looked at the outline of an undeniably lengthy erection pressing urgently against the dark fabric. You took in a deep breath, then unzipped his pants and slid your hands inside slowly.
The heat of him was the first thing you felt, heady and thick as you dipped past his waistband, fingers delving and searching for a grip. Very quickly, you were rewarded with the thick, feverishly hot length of his cock. Your fingers wrapped around him automatically, finding more room between your thumb and fingertips than you'd imagined.
He let out a quiet gasp as you gripped him tightly and stroked slowly upwards, relishing the ribbed length of it, scarred just like the rest of him. On the length of him it was even more arousing; You couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like, sliding in and out slowly and then fast, faster...
You felt your own breath catch as you finally pulled his cock out of his pants and fell upon it with your eyes. Yes, scarred and burned with radiation like the rest of him, but somehow even more appealing because of that. You kept stroking him, keeping your grasp tight and movements slow and sensual, and rotating your wrist as you moved up and down on his length. He was so thick, so hard in your hands, and you could already see the tension building low in his abs as they tightened along with your movements.
"F-fuck babe, that's good," he muttered, breath hitching as his body twitched underneath you. You sped up just a little bit, pulling a low groan from his throat that vibrated inside you. "Hell of a lot better than my own hand. Now, uh, don't judge me on how fast I get off, alright? I was halfway there when you walked in, after all."
You laughed lightly. "I would never," you replied honestly. "Besides, the faster you get off, the better job I did. It's a compliment."
He chuckled in a pleased sort of way, which you cut off abruptly by leaning down and kissing the tip of his dick. He seemed momentarily frozen, breath baited as he watched you flicker your tongue out to tease him. As your tongue slid up over the head of his cock and heavily across the slit, salty with droplets of precum, he let out a low, strangled sound.
"Y-you don't have to do that," he panted, hands flexing against the arm rests. "Not if you don't want to."
You smiled, removing your tongue and looking up at him. "Don't you know me well enough by now? I don't do anything I don't want to."
"Hahhh," he exhaled heavily as your mouth went back to his cock, lips slowly encasing the head of it. "Yeah, okay...fuck..."
And then you were swallowing him down, letting his rock hard cock slide into your mouth and back towards your throat, doing your best to get every inch. You were stopped short by a good amount, unable to get it all down without choking yourself. But Hancock seemed perfectly pleased with how far you managed to get, if the sounds he was making were any indication.
You let you tongue slide around him inside your mouth, getting every inch of him soaked. You relished in every ridge, able to feel his heartbeat in the throbbing veins running along his shaft. You gripped the base of him hard, cupping his balls in your hands and focusing every sensation he had straight to the centre of his crotch. You moved slowly as you rose up over the ridge of the head of his cock, the tip of your tongue sliding along its underside. As you sucked the tip of his dick, you were rewarded with a low, broken moan from his throat.
“Sh-shit,” he swore, his raspy voice so usually full of easy self-assurance instead falling into something faintly desperate. As you delved down deep again, it pulled a whimper from his throat that lit a fire deep inside you. “Ahh, hah… your mouth is fucking heaven…”
As you came up off him for a moment, lips wet and plump from sucking him off, you were once again rewarded – this time with his flushed out, needful expression. His scarred hands were white knuckling the arm rests, his stomach muscles rigid. His thighs felt like concrete under your arms, tendons tight. His entire body was tense, holding on to control by what looked to you like a very thin wire’s edge.
"Stop resisting," you teased him in a soft voice, and he gave you a distressed look.
"Babe, I'm just trying to make it last. It feels too goddamn good, I don't want it to end." His hands came up of the arm rests and moved to your shoulders – you expected him to grab you, grip you tightly, force your mouth back onto his throbbing dick - but he simply stroked your arms, one hand moving up further to tangle in the curls at the ends of your hair. His dark eyes delved deep into yours and suddenly you felt caught up in that dangerous radstorm again, seeing something in his eyes that said more than hunger or lust. The sort of affection that wasn’t allowed out here in the Commonwealth. A softness that couldn’t survive. It made your heart jump out of your chest for a split-second as you floated there, in his bewitching gaze that whispered dangerous things.
“Hancock…”
“Mmm?”
“I’m going to make you come.”
And then you were going back down on him with purpose, and he was moaning wantonly, the hand playing with your hair suddenly on the back of your head encouraging you on, just enough pressure to tell you he was there, wanting you, needing you, long fingers flexing open and closed against the nape of your neck. You sucked him down, pressing against the resistance at the back of your throat as his cock slid centimeter by centimeter further inside with each thrust as his hips canted up to meet you, unable to help himself. The lascivious sounds of your mouth wetly sucking him off throbbed in your ears, as did his breathy moans, so needy and whining for you as if he couldn’t help himself.
“I’m so close, so close, just like that… fuck, you’re a good cocksucker, Jesus Christ, I can’t- fuck, I can’t hold it- ” You could feel his body getting there before he spoke, but he still gripped your neck just a little tighter as he moaned and gasped “I-I’m gonna come for you beautiful…”
And then he fell silent abruptly, as his body stopped its thrusting and desperate writhing underneath you, caught in time and ecstasy as you felt the throbbing of his cock and finally, his come hot and bitter bursting forth in your mouth, cascading down your throat as you gulped him down. You kept your mouth on him as he finished, sucking off every last drop, until he began to twitch again, and then just a little longer – until his whimpers sounded pained and he was gasping at the intensity of the sensation. “Ah, hah, fuck, fuck, it’s too much…”
Feeling merciful, you released his spent cock, licking your lips as you smiled up at him triumphantly. His head was tilted back again, one hand up palm out over his eyes, like he was hiding from the light. He peeked underneath his hand at you gazing up at him from between his legs and let out a weak chuckle.
“Ah, holy shit, gorgeous. I wasn’t expecting that today.”
“Well,” you said, sighing in a satisfied way as you wiped your mouth lightly. “You can never be too sure what you’re going to run into out here, y’know.”
This made him laugh heartily, and his hand came away from his face as he leaned in and did something you weren’t expecting at all – he took your face in his hands and pressed a long kiss to your lips. You felt yourself freeze as he kissed you, shocked, but after a moment began to melt into it despite yourself. He even flickered his tongue against yours before pulling away, gifting you a wink as he did and began tucking himself back into his pants. Why did that make you feel more bashful than what you’d just finished doing?
As you stood up, dusting off your knees and trying to hide your blush, Hancock flashed you a concerned look. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’ll make sure you have a pillow next time.”
“Next time?” you exclaimed, trying to sound scandalized as you raised your eyebrows at him. “What makes you think there’ll be a next time, mister?”
“We-ell,” he said slowly, and you could see the mischievous look glinting in those new moon eyes of his as the gears turned. “If there’s not going to be a next time, I think you owe me one thing at least.”
“Oh really?” You crossed your arms at him, unconvinced. What could you possibly owe him after that performance?
“Yeah,” he grinned, doing up the buttons of his shirt as he watched your expression closely. “Letting me return the favour. How about right now? I’m kind of famished.”
“Oh for god’s- ” Your fiery blush returned as you watched his cat-like grin widening. “Hancock, we have… shit to do.”
“Do we?” he asked, his voice becoming low and dangerous as he moved in closer to you, pressing your back against the door. Your hand didn’t even twitch in the direction of the door knob. “Because I think it can wait, don’t you sunshine?”
xxx