OMGGEEEEE ! I planned to like, update every week, but then exams are a bummer :( Anyway, thanks for reviewing and reading! IT makes me happy :) lots of people find it interesting, and it really warms my heart to know that lots of people enjoy this fanfic of mine!
Don't worry, more adventure will come soon and stuff, so just enjoy this BLAH BLAH ,more touchy stuff so yeah I'm so sorry my mind was so freaking incoherent omg help me just read it HAHA XD :) Enjoy, minna! :))
KYOTEN CRAP 6: Let's Play
^pronounced as "KYOTEN crap SEX", thank you very much
One minute he was sitting with the most uncomfortable boner in those tight jeans, and the next, he's got that voracious mouth all over that Victoria-Secret-model-esque skin, tasting an endangered species, a delicacy far beyond crocodile meat or escargots as he pushes down his prey on the king-sized bed. Arion refuses to look, craning his neck all he way to the other side but bringing only more trouble to himself because the vampire just had trapped in the most ungodly situation the most divine conception created in the image of innocent seduction. He growls, deep and low and predatory, like a starved lion on the hunt for the fresh meat that summoned him forth, as he delicately pressures his knee on the premature crotch to let his guest have some fun. He didn't want to but he just had to gasp, mouth watering too much as he attempts to moisten the cavity that's gone dry due to the abrasion of his excited reproductive organs on those coarse but way too fucking pleasurable skinny jeans that hugged those hot legs. Yes, this is exactly what innocent little Arion wants, what he desperately needs from the man whose feet he vows to kiss, he wants to feel that virile monstrosity penetrating his virgin orifice and drill it in, fully in up to the hilt, and pull it out up to the tip only to ram back in at 2000 percent force like he was on fire with Red Bull and sugar concentrate.
He is almost on the verge of cantillating that name with his sweet nightingale voice, attempting to lure him in to his cavern and show him hidden wonders that not even Magellan could discover. Instead he encourages the other by singing notes of ecstasy like a Muse, Victor's one and only, like a bird trapped in a cage as he relaxes against the cushions. Taking this as an indication of surrender, the dominant male smirks widely, pulling his shirt over in a flash to reveal a glorious six pack. It was so perfect, more toned than any of the hunk jocks on the Raimon rugby team, that Arion let out a suspiration of utter delight which heightened drastically to a pleasured gasp when the henchman's teeth sink into his sensitive neck, but not nearly as far to drain blood. And if Arion thought it was better than leeching off his blood, he immediately regretted thinking that as the gentle bite toyed with the delicate skin, grating on it tamely and barbarically all at once on every space those incisors and flat edges could reach to leave dark and deep "love bites". The angel felt so good, felt like he was finally serving someone some purpose even if it felt so filthy, so sensual, so grownup for his inexperienced conscience that was never nurtured by a caring mother nor a watchful father. He had those marks to prove his worth as the chew toy of someone who deserved to be worshipped, and yes it was so demeaning that he felt like a whore of profanity destined to be a slave—no, a worthless little slut to do as Victor pleased.
Arion was jealous of the girls in his school who received so many presents from admirers, they always hogged the spotlight from the weaklings like him who never got noticed, so he taught himself the art of "prostitution" in the sense of captivating attention without having to throw away his body. But now, here he is offering everything he has to someone he barely met all because the meager attention that he garnered from the everyday passers-by wasn't enough to fill that void in him and all because the fact that the handsome mister Blade saved him pointed out that he was worth something after all.
As that moist long tongue (maybe it was normal for foreigners but the midfielder found it sexy anyway) flitted over those wounds, he moaned in response to the tingly feeling he got from both the wet intrusion and the expert hands tracing the bony lines all the way to his abused nipples, but teasing the victim by swerving towards but never landing on the throbbing organ that begged to be touched the most. Arion blushes deeply, madly at how easily an answer could be elicited from him and how easily excited he got, so he wonders what it would be like if he did the same to his predator. A shaking finger raises to skim the thigh still weighing on his erection, extracting a groan at the same time causing the boy to grind against the lithe body without interrupting the molestation session. The brunette's eyes grow large, because for a split second he felt the aching manhood still locked away in the clothes that prevented the horny little gigolo from seeing anything. Oh how he wanted to see that magnificent manhood towering above him, ready to strike the iron while it was still burning hot and sexy and raunchy!
But humans (well in his case the human side of him) are known not to give in so easily. The childlike persona he always harbored yelled that it was wrong to be like this, committing an iniquitous act away from prying eyes with a traitor of all people. On their own the hands move, clasping on those broad shoulders, but alas to his own surprise Arion grips them even tighter instead of pushing them away, wanting to feel that perfect skin as he finally gets to slide his palms down that hairless chest down to that splendiferously irresistible abdominal muscle radiating some kind of signal that supercharged Arion's uncontrollable hormones.
The henchman growls in rebuke but also showing a sign of libido increase. To reward the Seraph's attempts he unexpectedly lessens the pressure of his knee to take the whole of the boy's groin in his hand, making the boy cry aloud provocatively as a sign of gratitude while fisting his hands in that richly-colored indigo.
At this point the older one snarls vehemently. He pauses his foreplay to grab the boy's wrists and slam them on the wooden railings, at the same time snatching the long-forgotten neckerchief so that he could tie them so securely to the point that Arion couldn't feel them anymore.
"Rule number two: don't touch unless I allow you to."
Those words, when spoken forebodingly but in such a risqué manner by the outlander turned the adolescent on in more satanic ways than one. Miss Sylvia would probably be disappointed to see the good boy she's raised playing hanky-panky with the devil's crony, but my oh my this was one golden ticket that Arion would dare not refuse. And it was even more worth it when Victor's hand cupped the weeping member and began to fondle it, massaging the upright nuisance that made the boy do anything just for anyone to pay attention. A simple trail of the index along the shaft that was rich (actually overflowing) with virgin and first-time cum is enough to draw a needy mewl from the boy, followed by another sound, and another one, and another one again, growing louder each time the appendages squeezed and pushed against the hard-on with obviously veteran hands. When the godforsaken manus travels down to the unexplored region of no return, sweet baby grapes it was too much to handle and Arion wails in revelation, in pleasured ecstasy as his reproductive organs grind against each other like they were doing a mother fucking tango. The sweet child opens his mouth wide like he's about to suck on a lollipop, moaning in euphoria as his crotch is slowly but surely set ablaze with the burning embers of a sinister passion budding between the two. Sweaty hands grow impatient, curling up in enjoyment to the beat of his twisting and arching body, wanting to touch the other's genitals just as badly, so badly that his conscience's dictatorship opened his mind's eye so he could imagine exactly what to do.
He desperately needs to get closer, to hold something at least in order to vent out his pent-up sexual frustration, resulting in his legs (that were so weak from the pleasure coursing in his veins) to wrap around that hell of a sexy torso. Boy was it so damn good to let the gigantic bulge in those pants graze the side of his thigh and allow the other to experience this mutual feeling of lust. The only answer is a long seductive grunt and an even hungrier bite forcing Arion to rock back and forth back and forth, letting his erection grind and snag so sensually on that stomach and oh may the gods have mercy it's too late to turn back now, the friction is warming him up, getting less and less coarse until it isn't sore anymore because his seed is starting to drip generously like sticky lotion between them. If only his hands were free to grab something; his fingernails digging into his palms aren't enough to satisfy his urge to hold the other's head in place, hold it closer to show how much he loves it and how much he doesn't want him to let go. He'd gladly wear those bruises like a medal if it meant belonging to Victor and Victor only. Victor, the object of his desire, the only one who could fulfill his wet dreams and give his nightly ejaculation justice. With their bodies so close like this, he wants to be even more unified as he calls out, begging for release.
"AH—aah—Victor—p-please! I-I need…—"
His butchered sentence barely makes any sense, the unexplainably fulfilling sensation in his lower regions is spiking rapidly at fluctuating intervals but he doesn't care because it's a whole new level that he doesn't think he'll survive all in one day.
"Yes, what do you need?"
Victor questions calmly, whispering suggestively in his ear as he treats it with a sudden lick and a subtle nibble of the earlobe and causing Arion's eyes to roll back in his sockets because he never thought that pleasure could be such torture at the hands of this monster.
"I…I nee-AHH! Please, I-AH!"
It's just a garble of disorganized thoughts with less words and more of screams and moans and drooling saliva as his limit breaks and his erection finally explodes like a volcano, coating his delectable organ in a winter wonderland glaze and splattering on the sheets, his torso, and even on Victor. The whole while, Arion lets out the most beautiful sound the henchman's ever heard in his entire life, more alluring than the sirens of the lagoon or the avian creatures of the sunrise or the entire choir of heaven's Angels simply because it's Arion who made it and because this passionate intimacy brought out another side of him. An even darker side.
Slowly the legs constricting him let go after emptying completely, laying limp as the Seraph desperately attempts to catch his breath. Victor, meanwhile, doesn't look exhausted at all. In fact, he looks as if he's just enjoyed a delicious appetizer.
"Was that your first orgasm? If it was, I am deeply honored to have graced you with such a privilege," he croons sultrily whilst licking along that jawline, crossing his cheek daringly up to the corner of those baby lips, and it made Arion shiver desperately.
Their dirty playtime is once again kicked up a notch when the lackey simply drags his tongue towards the chin, down the protrusions of cartilage rings and onto that sweaty chest, not stopping even at the skin below the navel and even if Arion is begging for this to stop as if he was praying to a god. And naughty Victor does everything Arion wants and doesn't want when he engulfs dessert whole. It feels like sucking happily on a homemade vanilla popsicle stick made from the freshest batch of farm milk straight from the cow. Another strangled note of ecstasy bursts forth, alternating with heavy panting like he was on the verge of choking and eventually passing out, but the blowjob is just too damn good to be true that he doesn't want to fall asleep even if he'd escape to paradise because this is way more gratifying than imagining it.
Then it happens. All over again, as the muscle sweeps all the delectable frosting clean, it passes over the slit and the boy could see nothing but stars, stars that could never compete with the shade of gold in his "fuck buddy's"eyes. Oh yes, he moans louder hoping that the other would get the signal to do it again, and his pleas are more than answered as the whole length slides down to the back of the Victor's throat like it was a noodle and holy guacamole he doesn't know if he could take another round of climaxing but it doesn't look like the hot shot with hot pants (and apparently the hots for Arion) would hate it if the penis got hard again. There he lies, with his peeing instrument lodged inside the moist caverns of a stranger who suddenly saved/kidnapped him, claiming that he was "the purest of all angels" but is now practicing his fellatio skills on the virgin.
Shortly after, the vampire lets go, and dips his head just a teeny weeny bit lower to provide the abandoned pair between the extremely parted thighs a taste of the party in his mouth. And it was like one of the deities in heaven threw a damn adult's party, with booze and shit getting the brunette's system way more high than any club in the world. That tongue is like magic, he thinks to himself, as it slides along the groove and licks the underside while the mouth worked in unison to go down on the orchises without scratching it once with those razor-sharp teeth. A familiar proteinaceous scent permeates the air, alerting both of them that someone's at their limit. What makes Arion's flustered face even darker is the fact that Victor only smirks, varying the speed and timing of his tongue so as to let the boy feel every second of the wet contact, feel the agonizing yet satisfying feeling brought by the other, until everything starts becoming hazy and humid and he feels like he's—
"—AH—I-I'm a-about t-AHH!—"
Like the party's champagne shower he releases both seed and the loudest shriek yet, turning hoarse and needy in the middle, cut off by hardcore hyperventilation because he's out of voice and out of breath, amplified further by the quick retreat of the mouth and the immediate bite on the inside of his thigh as Victor quiets his own release.
When both are fully finished, the gold-eyed male gets up on his all fours, crawling up to the boy so that he could deliver his final message.
"Expect another one of these…ravishing activities sometime soon, Arion. And make sure you're still exactly as you are when I come back."
He parts, looking straight into those half-lidded gray abysses to make sure he was crystal clear. And with a taunting smirk he undoes the knots on the headboard, grabs his shirt, and exits discreetly.
Arion is left to himself, in the midst of the ruined sheets and scattered cushions, with the clothes in a disarray and surprisingly, Victor's coat lying nearby. And he hates what he does on impulse when he grabs it and slings it on his shoulders, wrapping the scent of vanilla all around him, suddenly feeling the biting cold of the atmosphere at the absence of body heat. But what he hates the most, he realizes as the tears begin streaming down his cheek and his mind clears up, is his immoral behavior towards Victor and himself. He doesn't know if he was suddenly possessed or…if those were his true feelings in his subconscious, finally freed by the one who locked him up in a cage.
And he was alone again, crying a river at something he knows he cannot take back, something he knows is the truth engraved on rock.
He truly deserves to be called a slut.
DUN DUN DUN! What happens next? HAHAHHA, here's a little spoiler: another character comes into the picture! And he's actually one of my favorites, so I couldn't resist (well yeah it isn't much, but yes, I will add some persons and put more stufff into it :)) Thanks again, everyone!