Limpio

It was disgusting, it was degrading, how the elf long and white fingers kept disappearing inside his brother. And disgusting was how the rosy ring of muscles clenched around sharp, dark nails, how Loki's voice resonated in what had once been in Father's throne room. But what was even more disgusting, was the heavy, throbbing weight between his legs.
Thor brought surreptitiously down a hand to adjust his meat, he really didn't want to, he didn't want to touch himself to the sound of his brother being defiled by his current enemy, but he could not start to fidget and risk to give away his hiding spot.
He bit his lip and screwed his eyes shut when a fourth finger entered Loki's hole, Thor's action made pointless by the image branded into his brain – Loki's pale hand gripping the dark feathers of Malekith's cloak, Loki's trousers pooled at his ankles, Loki's white ass cheeks marred by red scratches, the elf dark and light lips whispering in his ear – when Malekith had barged into the throne room Thor barely had the time to hide, Surtur's sword wrapped in the heavy fold of his dark cloak.

"Please...!"
"Who would have thought I'd end up making a Prince of Asgard dance on my fingers?"

Thor wanted to vomit, vomit and smash Malekith's skull against his golden floor and dislocate his fingers and throw Loki to the ground and...

"Come on, little one, open your sweet mouth- Ah, yes!... You were starved, weren't you?"
"Mmmh..."

One of Thor's big hand flew down to strangle his cock, half of his face smashed against a wide column wrapped in shadows and the other half free to take in the dark elf, feeding the obscenely purple head of his chalk-pale dick to his brother, the alien coloring making it appear like a poisonous amanita wet with dew. He squeezed his cock harshly to punish and to stop the twitches that shook it with every chugging sound the elf made every time he opened Loki's throat with his engorged shaft.
He gripped even harder, he didn't care if he caused himself permanent damage, he didn't care if he ended up crushing one of his testicles, he needed the pain. He needed it to stop the anger and lust and frenzy to mount inside him and ride his berserkr. How could that treacherous snake do this to him? His brother? It wasn't Loki's fault... But it had to be. That dirty little wench must had bespelled him, because Thor had never – NEVER- thought of such filth! He had never thought of his bother's mouth wen he received his first blowjob from Sif; he had never thought of going out, into the night, and find young men, with dark hair and pale skin; he had never thought of throwing his little bother, when he was only twelve, to the floor and take him until he bled, like he had seen one of the palace guards do in the stables with a serving girl!
He looked at the reflection of his eye against the polished surface of the column, the image soffused by his humid breath, the summer blue sky of his eyes eclipsed by a dark sun.

"Bend over, yes... I heard Jotun bitches have skins of ice but cores of molten lava. Is it true, princeling?"
"Ma- … Malek-...!"
"Ah! You are such a tight fit! I guess your Father didn't let the palace guards have their fun with you."

He sank his teeth in the inside of his cheeks when he noticed the hand still on his crotch, squeezing rhythmically with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, Thor's feverish mind letting him believed he could hear the softer, slightly delayed sound of testicles heavy with elven seed, smacking against his brother's own.

"Take it-Ah!... Take it!"

Every grunt and whimper was a like a cruel crop, making his heart gallop faster and faster, making his heated blood rush through his veins and his extremities tingle, like he had stuck his hands and feet in an anthill and his lungs were breathing in mud.

"In my new Reign... This will be you place, Prince Loki... On your hands and knees, with a length wedged so deep... Inside you, you will feel it in your throat. Would you... Like that?"

When Malekith's shout ricocheted against the gilded ceiling, Thor's only solace was that his weeping cock, still remained unspent.