What Really Happened at That Night
As we all know, it's totally a dream Porthos shot Aramis wet. But every dream is reflected by a firm fact that really happened. So what really happened at that night?
NC-17; Porthos/Aramis; Athos/D'Artagnan; PWP
The night was dark without stars, but it's useless to help someone hide their deep desires.
It seems our friend Porthos can't hide his desire for his friend this night. He drank too much to keep away his eyes from Aramis. Aramis noticed the telltale look in his eyes, but he didn't want to expose his reaction before so many people in the tavern. To conceal his cunning glance searching around the tavern, Aramis picked a bottle by his delicate and pale hand, sipping a little, and he found no one show any interested in the giant and his unusual behavior except Athos stared them dismally sitting toward D'Artagnan in a dark corner. Like a kid was caught when doing something wrong, Aramis gave Athos an embarrassing smile and winked as saying You Knew. This hint made no difference in Athos's expression but he stood up walking to the proprietor of the tavern and fished out two Livre putting in his hand, 'one room on the second floor'. The proprietor didn't have a big mouth, so he handed Athos a key without even a speculative look.
'You drank too much. Having a little rest won't spoil your good spirit in the fucking picking-day party.' Aramis saw Athos went by, and then he patted Porthos's shoulder and carried one arm by his shoulder as Porthos had been unconscious. 'Time to leave', Aramis made D'Artagnan a gesture for help.
'It's birthday, my mother of land gave birth to me that day.' Porthos was actually sober though he pretended not. 'Even you cannot insult my mom.' He gave Aramis a punch as the answer of his teased, laughing happily when heard Aramis's following scream.
Although confused by what they were doing, D'Artagnan helped the giant follow Athos going up to the second floor without a word. He knew they were making grand gestures in the tavern, but even D'Artagnan's smart brain cannot figure out why they left so early though he saw an unusual look in Porthos's eyes, he didn't know what that meant.
Aramis and D'Artagnan carried Porthos squeezing into a small and dirty room. Almost pushed by Porthos, Aramis felled on the only bed with Porthos as D'Artagnan broke free from Porthos's arm effortless.
'Wait, wa…' Aramis struggled to adjust his position, rather than being skinned roughly like a lamb back to the butcher. After he turned to face Porthos and gave him a big smile showed his trust and relaxes, the other side giggled as response, and then he buried his head in Aramis's bare chest, licking the collarbone as eating a delicious boiled quail. Aramis half closed his eyes, groaning with the rhythm of Pothos' tongue, and his restless fingers began to untie Porthos's ribbon.
'Don't worry. He's made this shot a hundred times.' Seen D'Artagnan was nearly understood the sight and seemed very surprised, Athos leaning against a chair explained shortly.
'He's drunk.' D'Artagnan withdraw toward a corner closer to Athos, hiding his face in the darkness, to prevent his blazing eyes from anyone's attention, and focusing on the two guys in the bed with great eagerness.
'He's never made it sober.' Athos said calmly, didn't keep eyes away either.
Porthos and Aramis ignored that nonsense completely. They paid full attention on each other's clothes. Had already stripped by Prothos, Aramis was lying barely beneath his crotch. Those nimble fingers have unzipped Porthos's uniform, stroking his bronze chest which seemed slightly redden due to the sex. The giant's lower body swelled to a scary shape. He pulled down Aramis's pants wildly, and the little milky buttock trembled in his big rough hands. Porthos straightened up and clamped the naked body by his legs. He unzipped, and his huge rushed out immediately. Without thinking, Porthos grabbed Aramis's head forcing him to suck it. The sound of friction and wild laughter filled the room. Porthos twitched faster and faster in Aramis's mouth, and he was approaching orgasm, so he let go of Aramis's hair and turned him around to face the dirty sheet. Porthos gave the white thing a slap and left a red mark on it. Aramis made a yell of pain. For he had been accustomed to being manhandled by Porthos, he yelled for stimulating the libido rather than showing the real pain. Porthos giggled indulgently and gave the red mark a gentle kiss.
And then, Aramis felt something wet and warm slipped back and forth in his ass ditch. He raised his ass to meet it and moaned longingly. Without any alert, the huge one thrust into the tight hole and moved quickly. It had been almost a month since the last time they made love, so there was a little blood oozing with Porthos's movement. Porthos's left hand pushed Aramis's abdominal muscles toward his will, while the other one found Aramis's hot dick. Aramis shivered violently with the touch. He swelled rapidly in the rough hand. Porthos was aware of Aramis' reaction, so he masturbated very hard for the sensitive guy, synchronizing with the movement of himself.
The air filled with an erotic atmosphere. Athos and D'Artagnan stayed quietly, listening to the sound of flesh collision. Under the cover of darkness, D'Artagnan dart a look at Athos, the nobility knitted his brow in thought.
'Five, Four, Three,' Porthos shouted it out loudly when he was about to shoot. 'Two, One…' After the last two move, Porthos released in Aramis's body, and Aramis shot in Porthos's hand at the same time.
Semen was shot to everywhere on the bed sheet. Aramis was all wet through, when he lied pell-mell down and gave his boyfriend a big smile. He snuggled on Porthos's sweaty chest like a cat curled up in the arms of the owner. They touched each other to feel the last warm from sex and immerse themselves in the joy of love.
'How about we try it without lubricating?' Porthos rubbed Aramis's curly hair tenderly, but the words made his smile froze. D'Artagnan cannot stand the nauseating flirting anymore, so he looked Athos for help. To his surprise, Athos was concentrating on the amount of money in his hand. It's only one Livre left. Athos raised his head and met D'Artagnan's eyes seeking help. D'Artagnan looked like having known what Athos was expecting. He blushed in the darkness and handed one Livre to Athos from his pocket. As a reply, Athos stood up and nodded to D'Artagnan hinting him to follow. They went downstairs without a word.