For Sinric

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan's room is almost pathologically neat, the bed made and everything in its place.

He stands aside to let Sinric in, the bathroom door standing open to reveal the huge sunken bath inside.

Comments

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan moans at that in turn, one hand flat on the tiles to keep himself upright and the other in Sinric's hair

His eyes go to Ragnar's face.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar looks up at him, eyes clouded with intense pleasure.

He blinks once, slowly, again.

He angles his thrusts into Sinric as to hit the spot that will give him pleasure, as best he can.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric devotes himself to pleasuring Athelstan, to tasting every part of him, from root to crown. He takes Athelstan into his throat, holding him there tightly.

Ragnar's thrusts rock him deeply, pushing groans and soft cries from his lungs to vibrate down Athelstan's cock.

[athelstanthescribe]

It's difficult for Athelstan to take Sinric's mouth the way he asked, in his somewhat precarious position, but he does try. He doesn't hold back the sounds of his pleasure, eyes locked with Ragnar's.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Feeling the urgent need to close the circle, Ragnar reaches out to touch the nearer of Athelstan's knees, helping to steady him in his odd position on the ledge.

He thrusts, aiming for more moans from Sinric, while holding his lover's gaze.

[thewidewideworld]

He wants to take them to the bed and make this easier, to feel them deeper and harder.

But he couldn't pull away if he wanted to. Not now. He chokes his moans out around Athelstan's shaft, skilled enough it the art of pleasuring a man with his mouth that he doesn't need Athelstan's thrusts to bring him to the edge.

Or to endure the wondrous pleasure of being taken as he does. Every thrust draws out a gasping moan that only adds to Athelstan's pleasure.

[athelstanthescribe]

There will be other times for the bed.

Athelstan groans, low in his throat, as his fingers tangle further in Sinric's hair.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Moaning softly himself, Ragnar thrusts up. The hand on Sinric moves lower, to massage circles over his belly; but he won't go lower than that without encouragement.

"Athelstan," he says. "Oriens."

[thewidewideworld]

He gently reaches down and guides Ragnar's hand back up to his breasts. He still can't, it's still too soon. But he wants Ragnar's hand on him.

He wants their seed in him, both of them. He wants their pleasure, all of it.

[athelstanthescribe]

He's getting it, as Athelstan tilts back a little in his pleasure, steadied only by his hand and Ragnar's on his knee.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar's callused fingers lavish great attention on Sinric's nipples -- if that is what he wants, he shall have it!

He leans forward, still thrusting, to kiss Sinirc's spine between the shoulder blades; but he looks up as not to lose sight of Athelstan, so lovely and moving in his pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric sucks and swallows, relishing every drop and lap of taste, feeling Athelstan tremble under his hands, under his lips, feeling Ragnar's thrusts push him further onto Athelstan's prick.

Perfect.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan is being as gentle as he can, but his passion is rising and overtaking his thoughts.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar thrusts up more powerfully as well, his prick sliding into Sinric all the way to the hilt with eery thrust.

He won't be long now.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric has no need for gentle, no desire for waiting. He wants to ache in all the best ways. He wants to feel them when he moves, to remind himself it's real. He wants their pleasure more than he can bear his own.

{ooc: logging off, I swear!}

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan's hands tighten in his hair as he draws close to the edge, pulling hard.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar can't contain his pleasure any more -- he spills his seed into Sinric's hole, with a great bellow of utter abandon, burying his prick to the hilt as the hot spurts release deep into the warm, welcoming body.

He spills, and spills, and spills some more, with great abandon; it takes a number of heartbeats until he is done.

[thewidewideworld]

The heat and force of Ragnar's release makes Sinric cry out, his throat tight and humming around Athelstan as he seeks to draw him over the edge too.

[athelstanthescribe]

He feels Ragnar's release even with Sinric's body between them, and Sinric's pleasure more directly, and the two combine to push him over into peaking.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar gasps, clinging to both of them, unable to speak.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric drinks down Athelstan's release with hungry fervour, lapping and licking to catches every drop. He rests his cheek in Athelstan's thigh, panting raggedy.

He feels right, good. Filled and stretched and content. Their pleasure may have surmounted his own but his own pleasure to a wild and terrifying thing he can't face so soon. This is what he needed and they have giving it to him with such vigour and kindness. He purrs happily, clenching around Ragnar once more before kissing the inner curve of Athelstan's thigh.

[athelstanthescribe]

With that done, Athelstan slips back into the water to embrace Sinric, touching his face and hair.

[bigarmy_strangepants]

Ragnar reaches out to wrap a long, strong arm around the both of them, and cranes his neck for a kiss from Athelstan.

[thewidewideworld]

Tucked warmly between them, Sinric sighs, content to hold and be held. He rests his head on Ragnar's shoulder, moving aside to let them kiss.

[athelstanthescribe]

Athelstan kisses Ragnar as tenderly as he's holding Sinric.