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- Gary really couldn’t believe his luck. As he looked down at Mark’s naked body sprawled beneath him, he positioned himself so he was knelt at either side of Mark’s thighs and took in what was, frankly, a glorious sight before him. He had to at least try to compose himself, regain his dominant stance, but it was hard work when his lover was looking back over his shoulder at him, biting his bottom lip and begging him with puppy-dog eyes.
- “All of it, Gaz.. No matter if it hurts..”
- It was manipulative, of course – it was Mark’s attempt to have some sort of control. And he probably did. Nonetheless, he grinned, knowing full well that Mark wanted it – whatever it was - to hurt.
- He loved it when Mark got in these moods, and much to his delight they came very often; Mark was 19 years old, right at his sexual peak, and not just a little bit tipsy. He often suggested that he and Gary try conventionally ‘different’ things when he’d get like this, all wound up and adventurous as he was. Gary had noticed Mark’s masochistic tendencies to lean towards activities that left him vulnerable and on show, and who was he to dismiss that? For one, it was the only time, within the band ‘relationship’, where he got the chance to be the overly dominant partner. However, Gary’s reasoning was that it had only been 30 minutes since they last had sex and Mark was ready to go right now - and who was he to let him down?
- “Hurry up an’ fuck me, Gaz,” Mark whined, pouting a little too dramatically, “w-with your hand..”
- Gary lifted his hand and flexed his fingers, watching the joints of his digits curl into a fist and thanking God he was a nail-biter. Frowning a little, he looked back down at Mark, at his trembling lips, at his flushed cheeks. He was thinking Mark had something else in mind, anything, just something else – never had it ever occurred to him that Mark was after getting fisted! “Really? And you want all of it?”
- “…” He relaxed his hand and led his fingers down Mark’s spine, stroking up the dip at the small of his back, and then continuing down until his fingertips were gliding between the taut protuberant curves, through the stale, cooled semen he had shot over that perfect arse not just half an hour ago. He looked up quickly to see Mark’s face was now on its side against his pillow – (eyes closed as if he didn’t want to know when it was coming) - and then looked down again, partly giving in to Mark’s desperate want, sliding three fingers into the well exercised opening without trouble. ’Fuck,’ he thought, shivering slightly as Mark’s acknowledging moan hit his ears, ’He really does..’
- Pulling them out slowly, he couldn’t help but feel pleased with himself as he noticed a string of come hung from his fingertips, so much so that he smirked a quiet “heh,” under his breath. He smeared the come down Mark’s thigh, the milky-clear substance clinging to the skin in an almost idyllic fashion.
- He reached over to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of strawberry lubricant, not making any effort to be anywhere near neat as he coated his fingers in the sweet-smelling lotion – he was at least going to try easing the inevitable discomfort Mark was about to become a victim of.
- Four fingers also took little persuasion – corkscrewing his digits together he eased them inside, testing the water slightly as he let his fingers untangle, spreading them against the sensitive inner walls. He found himself holding back, the groans and squeals that Mark was responding with were absolutely fucking delicious, but no matter how badly he needed it, Gary wasn’t about to hurt him unnecessarily. “Shh, patience,” he whispered, smirk tugging at the side of his mouth as Mark’s response was to tighten around his fingers and groan through his teeth. “I mean it,” he said quietly, lowering his tone in attempt to sound rough, “or I’ll just tear you in two, alright?”
- “Good boy,”
- He started thrusting his sticky fingers in and out, curving them inside; scraping them against Mark’s pulsing prostate. He couldn’t quite understand it but stretching Mark out was getting him off more than he’d anticipated it would, and the twinge after seeing the thin smear of blood mixing with the semen and lubricant on his hand made him very aware of how achingly hard he was. It didn’t take too long before his knuckles were able to disappear inside the supple cavity, and finally feeling confident enough to try, he very carefully he curled his fingers into the breadth of his hand. ’Yep,’ he assured himself, ’that’s about right.’
- Pulling his fingers out completely, he then smeared his entire hand in the syrupy lubricant, just a little past his wrist. Truth be told he wasn’t exactly sure how to execute the act, but the way Mark was wriggling underneath him, hips raised and legs spread, he didn’t think he cared too much about how it was done - just as long as it happened. Curling his thumb under his fingers, he nudged at Mark’s opening with his coned fingers, quickly looking up at Mark’s face for his own reassurance before he continued. “Ready, love?”
- Mark growled into the pillow and bit at the pillowcase in anticipation, relaxing all but his jaw. “Ngh,” he grunted, hoping that Gary registered it as a “yes”. Pushing back against Gary’s fist, he sighed heavily through his gritted teeth, bracing himself. Restless as he was he was grateful for the level of care Gary was showing, he knew it was probably causing him a lot of strain holding himself back.
- Easing his slicked hand through the malleable muscle, he quickly became aware of how twitchy and loud Mark had suddenly become, hoping to God that he wasn’t tearing the internal tissues too badly. As soon as he managed to squeeze his thumb inside, he let his hand relax for a moment, indulging in the damp warmth that engulfed his hand; and he couldn’t quite understand how Mark had managed to take it all, but then he was surprising him more and more these days.
- As he started to twist his hand around, he noticed Mark’s hand had found its way down to his erection and was tugging at the same pace as his own hand was fucking him. He was aching to touch himself, too, but as competent as he was at moving both hands independently, he daren’t let his concentration falter. Now he was able to get completely wrist-deep inside Mark and judging by how furiously Mark was jerking himself off, he wasn’t going to last as long as he probably anticipated. He started thrusting faster, his free hand firmly gripping Mark’s hips to keep them steady. He was completely lost in Mark’s rhythm; the way his body was moving, the way his moans were almost melodic. It was hard work keeping up a dominant persona when his subordinate was, in fact, clearly controlling him.
- “Oh G-God, Gaz..!”
- With one final buck of his hips, Mark melted into a quivering, rasping mess as he was pulled through one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever had; overwhelmed by every single muscle twitch and spasm against Gary’s slowly twisting hand, each of the intricate sensations making his body shiver as he came with an unexpected amount of force against the sheets beneath him. Tingles gradually subsiding, as Gary’s fingers were retracting, Mark mewled into his saliva and tear-sodden pillow; eyes clamping shut as they pulled free, cringing as they accessorised the final action with a slick, wet sound.
- Gary’s bottom lip was almost chewed to tatters with all the biting down that he’d had to suffer through whilst extracting his hand – but his teeth were soon firmly sunk back in to it as he examined his fingers, the breadth of his hand, the hilt of his wrist; all plastered with a sticky film. He hesitantly tore his eyes from his hand down to Mark’s shivering frame, immediately drawn to the thin trickle of blood now rolling down his inner thigh as he turned his hips to the side.. And God he felt good about it.
- Before he could control himself, his sullied hand was wrapped around his cock, pulling himself off with a sort of fierce urgency. He didn’t even know where to look; every single jot of energy was rushing through him with electric force, no noise registered in his ears and nor did any coherent thought register in his head. This was it - the rush, that fond, familiar, disorientating rush that he felt every time Mark wanted another round out of him, the rush that signified his closeness to the end – the rush that peaked and then dropped him from the zenith of delight before he even had time to catch up with his breath. The rush that was always gone too soon the second time around.
- Slumping forwards towards Mark’s once again dirtied body, he propped himself up with his hands at either side of Mark’s forearms, trying his hardest to ignore his uncomfortable position and cooling fluid-layered hand. He found himself in an awkward predicament, unsure of what to do next. In his heart, in true sentimental fashion, he wanted to lay down and sleep, to take Mark in his arms and drift off to sleep in a post-late afternoon sex haze like they always did.. But in his mind he was trying to work out how on Earth he was going to get Mark into the shower or if Mark could even move himself. “H-how are-”
- The response was so quick and blunt that he didn’t know whether that was a cue to giggle or to cuddle him, and so leant further forward, kissed the nape of his neck, and smiled against the sweat-glazed skin. “Me too,” he whispered.
- Mark smiled against his pillow, heavy lids lifting ever so slightly. He rolled his head to the side, looking up at Gary through his tired eyes. “Can we.. Just lay here for a bit?”
- Gary nodded, trying his hardest to not to look into Mark’s eyes for too long. It was when he let himself become lost in those eyes that his usual ability to stop himself seemed to vanish, and the last complication he needed in his life was to know that he wasn’t just ‘probably’ falling for Mark. He blinked and looked away, the word ‘probably’ looping in his mind a good few times before he climbed off with a good amount of care as to not knock or disturb Mark’s weakened body.
- He slid down the sheets next to him - behind him, against his back, and nuzzled the tip of his nose into the damp hair. ’Yeah,’ he thought, the smile refusing to shift from his face, ’we’ll figure it out in a bit.’
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