“You are the knife I turn inside myself; that is love. That, my dear, is love.”
— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena (via weepling)
Hnk! [The thud of the back of his head into table was to distract from the way his dick just twitched. The bite had just been searing. All one enhanced burst of visceral sensation, pain and pleasure indistinguishable. Even broken skin didn't make a different.
Not a context that made him want to suppress the intimate reaction, either. Not entirely. Just a bit out of stubbornness and pride at most.
There was a dotted spot of wetness to his trousers by then. And his abdomen fluttered under the tongue.
Mouth had gone a little dry. Realizing that Diet never intended to jump any guns, but seemed to want to torture him with this. He had regrets floating around somewhere in his head.]
[ He would shred one of them one day. When he got one of the ones Lucifer didn't care about so much.
But the Fallen was being real good for him right now. Could see that hard line in his trousers, flattered, really, and would let his smaller front teeth seize that perked nipple between them, little harder than he would for a standard human. Flicked his tongue over it before letting it go.
Continuing down. Letting his big, warm, fluffy head rest right over Lucifer's boner, tongue swiping along the Fallen's stomach, through the hair there. ]
"Hngk." About the increased pressure and friction. Little much, now, but it doesn't hurt him the way it should. Pulls a flush into his face at worst. Being a menace to that poor thing.
The quickest thing to learn about Lucifer is his hands and mouth are curious and wandering things. He's intense with them. And curious. So he does indeed find her pulse and feel it. Teeth closing around the skin there on her throat and pressing tongue to feel it. It's good. (Not a single flickering Hell Noise impulse to tear it out.)
Then he had to pull away and let her get out of own shirts and things. Snorting as some of the buttons went flying. (She'd never find at least one of those ever again.) He didn't have long to be bemused before she was pressed up to him again.
Hands and fingers right back to searing over skin. Finding details and quiet honestly appreciating them. Lingering, even. Tracing when they caught and seeking out more to follow. Takes the love bite to his throat to remind him what he was doing.
Hissing in a breath and reeling some. There went his belt! Ha!
He'd let Irene get as far as to get his fly open before he'd do a maneuver to turn her around. Drawing her back into him in a trapping hold. He wasn't done touching, thank you. Stealing some power back if you please.
She's got all this warm skin to get to. And he'd be sure to make more of it visible in dragging her pants and undergarments down to at least her knees (if they fell off after, all the better). Hands went right back to wandering.
Though they had purpose this time. One gliding up high and the other low. Starting with a cup of a breast and squeeze of on inner thigh. Only warning he gave before a thumb rolled across a peak to make it pearl. And other skimmed higher to cup and stroke between thighs, a petting. Mouth had plenty of real estate to give open mouthed kisses to skin, hot and often accompanied by teeth and swipe of tongue. Between the back of her neck and spot behind her ear and shoulder and side of her neck--plenty.
He was too girthy to get down to brass tacks immediately. In his experience, he had to do some prep work. And it's a fantastic excuse for getting those hands and fingers (and sometimes tongue) into places.
Irene gives a soft chuckle at his groan, pressing her leg more against him as she claimed every messy uncoordinated kiss. She whines when he pulls away to finish pulling off his undershirt, hands now hooking into his belt.
Never had calluses felt so good, rasping the skin at her sides. Her chin instinctively lifts at his kiss, offering her neck to him as a shuddering breath escapes her. Could he feel her pulse, frantic beneath her skin? Desperate for him?
It was her turn to strip her layers and she did so viciously, snapping a few of the more stubborn buttons off in her hurry to unbutton her shirt. Then came her own undershirt, a silken tank top and under that, her lace bra. She’d press naked breast against his chest, going in for another grind with her leg. She too was surprisingly devoid of scars to the naked eye, but rough hands still managed to catch on what few there were. A few on her back, reminders of her climb to power and a thin slice between two of her ribs from a jilted lover.
“Lucifer..” A whine escapes her, needy and wanting as she kisses along his jaw before sinking her teeth in a light love bite into his neck. Nothing that would break skin, just a need to claim him if only for the moment. Hands now attempted to tackle his belt, pulling it off and throwing it to the side as if it offended her.
morethanfoodporn:
I would still be as wildly attracted even if you went full dad-bod with it. But he does make for a very good show like this too, can admit. [ Reaching out to squeeze the bouncy pecs and fondle the abs. ]
All tits are good tits. I like y’other ones plenty too.
[ Rook would deliberately brush a foot over Lucifer’s clothed chub. ]
Oh, I can think of at least one thing we’d prolly both enjoy hangin’ onto…
[ He’s also feeling silly. ]
[Hissed in a breath between chuckles. That’s his dick, sir. It’d become more than a chub by now. Very much anticipating.]
It is a good bit to hand onto. [He agreed while fly was undone and both dress pants and underlying underwear was removed. Discarded. He came up closer at that point. Close enough to catch up both erections in palm to stroke together.]
Be a wonderful sexpot of a husband and get the lube out of the back of the lower drawer.
Let him not be a beefcake? Forget it. [He joked openly with Rook. Tossing shirt off to the side and reaching to bounce one of Duncan’s very generous pecs.] Look at that. It’s too much. [He broke into his own chortle. Kind of brushing gently over the fact he did keep Duncan’s body well-fed and well worked out to maintain this physique.] What am I without tits, honestly? [Extra silly. As he got to unbuckling his belt and sliding that off.] What the hell would I even hold onto on this man if he wasn’t built like a brickhouse? It’d be impossible.
[The maneuver with the shoe was a bit of a dirty trick in a way. Lucifer could get into a headspace where he was very much actively aroused--and ignore it. Couldn't very well ignore it while attention was pressing along the very expression of it.
Didn't have to play up the tension in his shoulders anymore. Or newly in his thighs. Next breath less even. Much more aware of his own aching again. Felt stepped on despite Rook never having put any weight behind it.
Attention pinpoint until he heard a zip and caught sight of something that admittedly watered his mouth. He'd always be a sucker (hah, pun possibly intended) for oral. He'd always been most engaged with his mouth and hands getting onto his partners.
Hardly needed the touch in his hair to tip his head and arch toward the offering. Always enjoyed Rook's voice, enjoyed he was a talker, kept his sound-loving self well fed, but he felt like talking himself in that moment was a hinderance and a speed-bump to what he wanted to fill his mouth instead.
For Rook he certainly didn't mind seeming overeager. He lolled tongue out as a landing pad with lips parted. Gaze up at Rook an entreat.]
[ He was a singular sort. Grinned down at the sight of Lucifer as he was, licking his lips in sincere and unabashed, adoring lust. Drinking him in and committing the sight to memory, since he couldn't ask to paint him just now. ]
Now don' you jus' look like a right treat... Lucky if I ever make something that looks half as good.
[ He'd trace the tip of his shoe against the seam and zip of Lucifer's trousers, along the cramped underside of his cock, just enough to really torture the poor thing. ]
Not jus' yet, though. Y'know I always worry about you eatin' well, luv.
[ Rook was happy enough to get his own fly undone, trousers unbuttoned, to let his cock out, curling just a little to the side as he reached down to get a hand threaded through Lucifer's hair to the back of his skull, pulling the Fallen forward a bit, head tilted back. ]
Hungry?
Let him not be a beefcake? Forget it. [He joked openly with Rook. Tossing shirt off to the side and reaching to bounce one of Duncan’s very generous pecs.] Look at that. It’s too much. [He broke into his own chortle. Kind of brushing gently over the fact he did keep Duncan’s body well-fed and well worked out to maintain this physique.] What am I without tits, honestly? [Extra silly. As he got to unbuckling his belt and sliding that off.] What the hell would I even hold onto on this man if he wasn’t built like a brickhouse? It’d be impossible.
[Rumbled under the bruising teeth in his chest, worrying teeth into his own lower lip a moment. Trying to focus and make a decision--A difficult thing to do when his husband was also feeling him up.
Fuck it. His focus came back to Rook with that pinpoint way he had. Got hold of his chin between a couple of fingers and stole another heated kiss before, low and direct;]
Get out of these. [Free hand tugging at the waist band of his trousers. Well aware what all waited there, thank you.]
[Without taking his eyes off the Sin, he rubbed at the scar at his mouth to keep from smirking and possibly setting him off.]
You have two options, Fretful. You bend yourself over that desk-- [He gestured to the desk in question behind Pride's reclined head.] --or I do.
[A rare offer considering Pride hadn't done a damn thing to earn it. Giving unholy head, not withstanding.]
[He was getting some of the appeal Stan found in himself.
Obedience is good. Obedience with a threat of defiance was much sweeter. Obedience given rather than forced.
Rumbled with quiet the scar pulled smirk as he watched Pride, never the less, lean back and start doing as he told him to. It is an exceptional view, all told. One he deigned to take sunglasses off for. Giving them a toss onto desk out of the way, careless. Let him rove lidded stare over the Sin.
He lazily set cheek into palm.]
Don't get too ahead of yourself... [Warned the Sin as he got enthusiastic with himself.
He was taking a moment to get his desire more to a manageable level. And pondering what exactly he wanted to do to Pride. Mouth a bit dry as he considered the options.]
duncan has a mild length, but girthy as heck dick and a matching pair. his butt’s toned with a little bit of softness like the rest of his physique. nips are kind of small and dark tinted. his dick’s light skinned and so it gets pinker, sometimes redder, than the rest of him when he’s aroused. he’s bulky and square and hard with that slight healthy padding. heavy and stone built. not incredibly tall.
lucifer has below mild length and is not very girthy. he’s petite and kind of ‘fun sized’ in that department. as no visible outward scrotum, his anatomy has kept all of that internal. about where they should be he is soft and a little puffy even when he’s not aroused. when he is aroused, he has a clitoris that gets pretty swollen and visible. not a generous amount of labia present, but enough to look a little bit frilly or petal like. there is a puffiness that comes from arousal that isn’t present when not. lucifer’s skin tone was lacking a color and he did get very blue when aroused, but as recently been regaining his healthy copper tones which gives him a duskier/darker shade of blue to his male genitalia. Though his female genitals still become a more vibrant blue shade. his breasts aren’t very big and are barely enough to cup in hands or slightly more than that. His nips are pretty big, but defined and also darker/duskier than the rest of his skin. His butt is toned, but that is hidden by a generous amount of softness that rounds it off. his overall physique is androgynous as well as athletic or ‘dancer like’ with slightly more muscle mass than that. very small, elegant, and powerful rolled into one.
i know a handful of people who see performing oral as a purely submissive act, and i just can’t bring myself to agree. it can be, of course—i have a healthy appreciate for putting a sweet thing’s pretty little mouth to better use. but god, i love the feeling of being down on my knees, watching your knees tremble and your legs buck as you try to stand tall. i love having you splayed flat out, the way your back arches and your voice shakes, as you try to get closer, closer, closer. you’re mine. mine to pleasure, if i so wish. there’s a certain kind of dominance in that.