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The sound of the unoccupied rainfall shower was just enough to drown out Arthur’s pathetic little grunts as he fucked forward into Arthur’s throbbing cunt.
Arthur let out a gasping, whining moan as he felt the other man grind against him, his ringed fingers reaching out to grasp the back of his head. “Fuck, you’re so unbearable,” he grumbled. “Jumping into the water like the fucking dog you are, so eager to get your shirt off for the audience, to show off your tits.”
“I’m your dog, your good boy,” his puppy panted against his shoulder. His hands were beginning to get slick, both from the sweat of exertion and the water that was trickling down on them. The steam from the running, unused shower was enough to keep them from catching a proper chill, but Arthur was sure that they would have heated up from their activities anyway.
“You’re not a good dog, you’re bad. Naughty puppy,” Arthur grunted. He could feel his cunt flexing in shock and arousal every time that the other Arthur thrust up into him in just the right way. It was addictive, the feeling of being pounded into at the rate that only someone with a sleeper build would have been able to manage.
His puppy had it all, despite the words that were currently flowing from his mouth. Arthur was built like a brick shithouse, muscular in all the ways that made it so pleasing to watch Chris bite at him. He had the stamina of someone that enjoyed jogging as well, able to go for hours and hours at a pace that made Arthur squirm. He had a generally good demeanor too, eager to please and patient enough to make even the most stubborn of orgasms rock through Arthur’s body. The only thing that he lacked was the good sense not to dunk them both into the river.
Arthur’s hips came to a slow, then a stop. He pulled away from Arthur’s shoulder and looked him dead in the eyes, brown boring into brown like they would somehow be able to draw the thoughts out of the other and into their own mind. “Tell me why?”
“Tell you why what?” Arthur asked. He wove his hand through Arthur’s brown curls, which were too short to get a really good hold on, and then tugged enough that a few of the strands slipped from his grip.
“Fu-uck,” he moaned brokenly as his head was forced back. “Tell me why ‘m a bad dog,” he gasped. His hips were still rutting forward so that he could grind his clit against the harness assisting in the depravity of their after-shoot activities.
“Because you jumped into the fucking water, then you pulled me in after you. Were you so eager to see my fucking tits that you had to get me all wet like a naughty little mutt?” Arthur snarled. He leaned in and drove his teeth into the flesh of Arthur’s shoulder, just enough to leave a ring of angry red marks but not enough to break through.
“Arthur!” Arthur screamed. His hips had started moving on their own again, pulling out and snapping back in only to grind down so that his clit would get some stimulation too.
“What? What do you want, you filthy fucking hound? You should be thanking me for letting you bury your fucking cock in me. Instead you’re demanding things from me,” Arthur growled. He was beginning to meet Arthur’s thrusts with some of his own so that he could be fucked with the power that he wanted.
His hand slipped on the counter, a bit of the alcohol in his system shining through once again. He placed his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and then used that as leverage to lift himself upwards. “Fuck, my hips,” he grunted. It was entirely unsexy to say when he was being pounded like he was, but it was the truth.
Arthur shifted his hands down to hold him and then dropped them down onto the floor. More of the humid air was swirling around them now that they were beside the shower instead of standing in front of the countered vanity. The fluffy rug brushed over the sides of Arthur’s sensitive skin while the puppy above him caught his knees in his elbows. He could see the shaggy head of brown hair hanging above him, eyes shut in focus and mouth gaped in a drunken addiction to what he was feeling.
The sudden change in angle made him let out a strangled, garbled moan. “Arthur! Fuck, like that, good boy. Good dog.”
“Thank you, sir, thank you,” Arthur mumbled. He fell down onto his elbows after releasing Arthur’s legs so that they were instead around his hips. He continued to fuck in and out at the same pace as he had before, rutting every few thrusts. He gave a grunt as he reached his own orgasm, though he continued to fuck Arthur like the good boy that he was.
“I’m cumming,” Arthur warned. His fingers dug into the rug below him while his back arched as far as his fucked up hips would allow him to. His cunt clamped down around the cock inside of him as hard as he could. His body quivered with the pleasure of it all and he knew that he was squirting, wave after wave after wave of liquid pouring out of him.
“Holy fucking shit, you look so pretty like this,” Arthur had recovered from his orgasm enough that he was sitting up on his haunches. The strap framed his own abused cunt prettily, the fake cock standing to attention like he was already ready to go for another round. His fingers had moved down to Arthur’s thighs so that he could hold them apart and stare at the clenching hole he had been buried in moments prior.
“Surprised you’re not lapping it up, puppy,” Arthur breathed. He had collapsed back down into the ruined rug, and he was quickly beginning to realize that it would take them unreasonably long to clean up the mess they had made.
“Didn’t know that you could do that, otherwise I would have,” Arthur crawled back over the top of him, which caused him to whimper as the dildo brushed his sensitive clit. He brought their lips together like they were drowning in each other. “And you’ve gotten me wet now, so I think that we’re even.”