LOST WEEKEND
By Daintly Laidy
It was different this time. Before it had always been fast. A stolen moment in the Maru, a quick hand-job in a storage locker. Tyr didn’t trust the ship or Dylan to respect his privacy requests and refused to let his weakness become a lever for them.
Here though… here they were safe from the thousand eyes of the ship.
Here was privacy, a big bed and Seamus Harper. Harper… naked and on his stomach, backside raised in the air by a couple of pillows.
Tyr supposed that Harper’s reason for wanting secrecy had to do with his hopes of seducing the ship. The thought made Tyr shudder but he wasn’t going to be picky about another man’s perversions. Particularly when he was greased up and about fuck that other man in a demonstration of his own perverted pleasures.
Harper winced and squeaked as Tyr slid into him. Anal sex was something they didn’t often indulge in thanks to Tyr’s paranoia. Tyr intended to spend as much of the weekend up Harper’s backside as the boy could stand.
Or not stand, as the case may be.
Tyr waited until Harper had relaxed a little before pushing down harder. Harper’s yelp this time had less to do with pain, and more to do with pressure on his prostate. Harper’s skin had flushed a rather attractive pink and Tyr couldn’t help licking the back of Harper’s neck as his hips made micro-thrusts into the boy’s very tight channel.
Tyr teased until Harper bucked back, impaling himself on Tyr’s cock. It was what he’d been waiting for and Tyr began to fuck in earnest. The room filled with the sounds of Harper’s grunts as Tyr pulled almost out then slid firmly back in with a slow but firm stroke.
Sweat was beading on Harper’s back and Tyr let the intoxicating scent of aroused male musk carry his arousal higher. Harper was moaning and trying to reach around to touch himself. Tyr grabbed Harper’s wrists and held him down. This only seemed to get Harper hotter and he wriggled and pushed back onto Tyr’s cock.
Tyr took pity on Harper and hammered hard and deep in an ever increasing rhythm into the boy. Harper’s scream was accompanied by the sharp scent of his semen and Tyr closed his eyes and concentrated on regaining control as the muscles in Harper’s backside squeezed and massaged his achingly hard shaft.
Harper finally relaxed and lay limp on the bed, and Tyr moved again: long deep strokes into Harper’s unresisting body.
Slow was good. Slow and hard and deep…
Tyr was lost in the moment, the smell of Harper, the taste of Harper, the way Harper’s body clung tightly to his cock. Tyr wasn’t sure how long had passed until Harper’s tired whimpers cranked back up to breathy moans of pleasure. Tyr pinned Harper down again and took his time. Harper had enough composure this time to speak.
Harper’s pleas to let him come, to touch his cock, to fuck him harder left Tyr on a knifes-edge of arousal. Taking a few last shallow, teasing strokes he let go of his control. Harper screamed as his body became the target of Nietzschean lust. Tyr knelt on the bed and gripped Harper’s hips, tugging him up and down in a brutal rhythm. Again and again Tyr plunged into the boy, reckless and aroused beyond reason.
Tyr made one last hard thrust and growled low in his throat as Harper’s muscles tightened around him and a second load of Harper’s seed shot across the bed.
Tyr dropped Harper, who fell onto the bed and lay unmoving. Tyr got up and showered away the sweat and smell of sex. When he returned, Harper was asleep on the bed, bruises darkening on his hips and teethmarks standing out on the pale skin of his neck.
Tyr frowned; he didn’t remember biting. Making a mental note to be more careful in future, he climbed back onto the bed and nudged Harper awake. The smell here on the bed was strong with the memory of rough, animalistic man sex and Harper grinned sleepily up at Tyr’s twitching cock.
It was going to be a long, hard weekend.
The End