Grand Line City Hearts
Chapter Two
Tonight I'm fucking you
Mann gegen Mann
The red haired beast of a man that had just agreed to pay him two hundred bucks for sex walked over to the stairs that led to the second floor and Law was still standing at the bar, dumbstruck, and watching the man walking like a hungry predator, stalking through the dancing crowd that parted unconsciously for him. He shuddered. Fuck, the man's backside was a sight. He couldn't make out a lot, since the crowd and that fur coat were concealing most of the man's figure, but his broad shoulders spoke for themselves. Shit, that man had even broader shoulders than that fucker Doflamingo.
Then he noticed that he was supposed to follow the stranger – his client, he corrected in his mind – upstairs to where the shitty bedrooms were. Fuck, he was really going to do this, right?
He shuddered again and set his body in motion. His heart was beating like crazy in his chest. He tried to tell himself that he would've hit on the red haired man even if wouldn't try to sell his body. In a regular night with regular circumstances he would've taken the man home, hell, he would've blown the man in the parking lot, he was that fucking intriguing – but tonight was different, his life was different, and the circumstances were different.
Fuck, he was really doing this, right? He was going through with this shit. He was selling his own body.
He hated that he was faltering, that he was still hesitant, that he still had doubts.
His eyes were glued to the back of his patrons head, the amazing red hair, long and unrestrained. When he finally set his body in motion and followed the beast of a man through the crowd he tried to keep his eyes on him, it calmed him down for some fucked up reason.
He tuned everything out, the loud music that was blaring from the speakers, the dancing and sweating crowd, disgusting bodies that bumped into him, the rotten smell of cheap perfume and aftershave mixed with cigarette smoke and the unmistakable odor of marihuana invading his nostrils – he tuned all of that out and only followed the pale man to whatever dark place they were going.
When his customer (he sniggered inwardly) reached the stairs he realized that their positions should be reversed: He should be the one leading his prey upstairs, he should be the one doing the seduction, not the other way round. It's not supposed to be like this. He was the fucking predator in this. Only because the red haired beast was exactly what the label beast indicated – a heavy muscled beast with fucking broad shoulders, twice the size of him – didn't mean that he himself wasn't fucking dangerous too. No shit, spending his teenage years with Doflamingo probably made him the toughest and most dangerous motherfucker in the whole club. He had learnt early that muscles weren't everything when it came down to fighting. You needed brains too, if you wanted to survive. And brains he had.
He grinned, since he had finally found his temporally lost confidence again.
He caught up with the beast and followed closely behind him up the stairs. His nose almost bumped into the back of the man's coat, and usually he would be able to smell something, he would be able to distinct what the man smelled like – if he would smell rotten or gross he knew what to do – he needed to rely on information that his senses supplied him with since he was going to give his body to that man, shit, for all he knew the beast would find his pleasure in killing unsuspecting prostitutes. He was frustrated that he couldn't smell the man, fuck, his nostrils were still fucking blown-
He stumbled into the broad backside of his customer since he had just stopped dead in his tracks. Fuck, Law, concentrate.
Apparently his customer knew the employee guarding the rooms down the corridor.
"What's up Bon?" His customer asked the man – hell, that was no man, that was a drag queen, since there was a shitload of make-up in the face of the man, and it appeared that he was actually wearing a dress. What the fuck?
"Kidd-chan! Lovely to see you here! You got business with Croco-san?" The queer sang in an obnoxious voice. So his customer knew those kinds of people? Disquieting.
"Nah, I ain't got business with scarface. I wanna room." His customer rasped and dug out his leather wallet to hand the queer a green bill. Law was confused for a second. Wasn't he supposed to pay for the room? He was the hooker in this equation. But then he wasn't complaining. He needed every fucking cent he could get his hands on – and the red haired beast paying the room fee meant that he could save the twenty bucks.
The queer gave his customer an inquiring look, but then he grinned and gave the man his change. "Kidd-chan, let me watch and you'll get the room for free!"
His red haired customer gave Law a smirk and then turned his attention back to the queer. "Over my dead body, Bon, over my dead body."
The queer mimicked an overdramatic sad face: "Kidd-chan, you're mean! But well, have fun, lovebirds!"
His customer flicked him off and then stalked down the hallway. Law hurried after him, he didn't really want to spent more time than necessary in the presence of the crossdresser. He was freaking him out.
The red haired man stopped in front of a door with the number six on it and unlocked the door with the key he had gotten from the queer.
The red haired man stepped inside and then turned his head around, asking him: "You're coming?"
Law could only nod and then stepped into the small room.
The room was barely lit, there was only a lamp above the queen sized bed that dominated the small space. The lamp emitted a soft reddish light, but it didn't reach the corners of the room – Law guessed it was for the better, since the room didn't seem to be on the clean side.
He tried to ignore the fact that they were probably not the first guests to use the room tonight, and by far the last. His insides clenched at the thought of what icky substances might be left on the bed. Yuck. He was so taking a two hour shower after this.
He heard the door shut behind him, and then the soft, barely audible click of a key turned in a lock. So his customer locked the door. Shit. He was probably going to get murdered, and no one would hear him scream, since the beats from downstairs were coming through the floor, blocking most of the other sounds from the club.
He turned around to his red haired customer. In the dim light of the room he looked even more feral, the features of his pale face sharp, his weird but at the same time oddly intriguing shaped eyes glowing softly. Fuck, those were the most interesting eyes he had ever seen. And then his lips. As pale his face was, his lips were a stark contrast, because they were a deep burgundy red. Begging to be kissed. He wanted to slap himself for where his thoughts were going again. But his gaze was still on those entrancing red lips. He wondered absently if his customer wore lipstick or if that were their natural color.
His customer's hair was a flaming red, most likely his natural color, judging by his fair skin complexion. His shock of red hair was barely kept in check by a pair of goggles. Yeah, it looked pretty unrestrained and he tried to deny it but he felt the strong urge to run his hands through that shock of flaming hair.
His customer glanced at his expensive looking wrist watch and then said with that deep baritone of his: "We got one hour, right?"
Law could only nod.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Strip."
He nodded again and then climbed on the bed. Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta act like I do this every day, I gotta make this good for his customer. Maybe if he likes me then he would come back for another night. He wasn't really looking forward to sleeping with another guy every night, and if he would make it really really fucking good for the red haired patron, he might use his services more often. He cringed at the term. Services. Damn, he was in deep shit.
He lifted his eyes and met an intense amber stare that seemed to burn him.
"Strip, Heart, strip for me."
Fuck. This gaze alone was enough to make him hard. And only because the man was paying him that didn't mean that he couldn't have fun. Hell no. He licked his lips seductively and never broke eye contact with his patron. The red haired man stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring holes in his skin.
Then he felt the beat coming from downstairs, the vibrations subtly rocking through his body, his hard cock straining against his tight jeans.
He stretched his body sensually on the bed, then he ran his tattooed hand through his unruly hair, it was already slick from sweat and the humidity all over the place, played with it a bit and then he let his hand trail down the side of his face, down his neck, over his collarbones that were visible through his white skintight shirt, then lower, lower, over his abdomen, lower, fuck, he was getting fucking turned on only by his own hand caressing his own body – no, he wasn't turned on by his own hand, shit, it was the beast of a man watching him with those hungry eyes.
His hand reached the hem of his shirt, he was wriggling his body, rolling on the bed in a hopefully somewhat seducing manner – and then he lifted the wet material over his head and dumped it on the floor.
Was that his imagination or did his patron just suck in a breath?
He grinned and licked his lips again. He met the man's stare again and started playing with his hard nipples, oh shit, keep your shit together Law, but fuck, his little nubs were overly sensitive and his fingertips were damn good at teasing his own flesh – oh fuck, did he just moan? Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was slowly coming apart under the man's gaze, fuck, he had to stop this, he was losing control, he was losing control-
"I said strip, not tease me, you little shit."
Law withdrew his shaking hands from his nipples and opened the fly of his jeans. He tried to wriggle out of them, but they were sticking to his skin and his straining erection wasn't helping the process. Ah shit, why-
The pale observer suddenly grabbed his twitching legs and stilled them. Then he grabbed the constricting material and just yanked it down.
Fuck, that man had some strength in his arms. He could only lay on his back, panting heavily, his cock laying on his stomach, fully erect, looking up in those dangerous amber eyes.
He observed how the man opened the fly to his own pants and then dug out his cock and presented it to Law.
Holy motherfucking shit. That was some fucking monstrous cock. And that was supposed to fit inside of him? Shit, shit, shit. He felt his insides already clench – in fear, or was it anticipation?
"Suck it."
Ahh, fuck.
He got on all fours and crawled over to where the man was standing, still fully dressed in his heavy fur coat, the white wife beater and his pants. Only his cock was sticking out and damn, it was definitely matching the man in his size.
Law looked up to the man towering above him, eyes ablaze. Then he lowered his head and grabbed the man's cock, ahh shit, it was really fucking hot and it twitched in his grip, shit, and then he slowly brought his mouth closer and closer to the man's straining erection.
Finally he was able to smell the man, and shit, this wasn't something he was prepared for, the heavy musk the man emitted, fuck, it went downright in his already hard as fuck cock.
Suddenly a huge hand grabbed his hair and nudged his head forward. He got the hint, but played resistant for a second or two. He could tell that the man liked it. And he was for sure not a whore that would just lay back and spread his legs. Oh no. Only because he was getting paid for fucking didn't mean that he would be an easy one. Hell no.
The man above him growled and tired to press his mouth onto the straining erection, and fuck, that beast was fucking strong, but then he chuckled softly and instead of licking that hard cock he blew on it. The fingers of the man clenched in his hair. Oh, this was fun indeed. He blew on the cock again and placed one hand on the rock hard stomach of his patron for leverage.
He drew in a deep breath, then he opened his mouth and engulfed the tip of the man's cock in his mouth. It twitched.
The man above him moaned.
Oh shit. He could taste the man on his tongue, and he had never tasted something that had affected him more than this. Fuck. Salty. Musky. Individual. Fucking delicious. More. He wanted to taste more. He wanted to hear the man moan again. He wanted to be the one to be responsible for the man losing control. He wanted to be the one that made the man fall apart only using his mouth.
He let his tongue swipe along the underside of that heavy and fucking long cock, shit, if he had to guess those were easily eight inches there, and the base of the cock was still hidden inside the man's pants. So shit, they were talking about roughly nine inches here. Nine fucking inches.
A shudder rocked through his spine. What a beast.
He trailed the veins of the hard cock with his tongue, then he was back at the tip, twirled his tongue around it – ah, shit, that made the man moan – then he licked the little slit, tasted a drop of precum, put the head back in his mouth and applied some pressure, sucked in his cheeks to let the man feel as much as possible.
"Stop playing around, Heart, and get down to do some real work." The man rasped above him.
Law let go of the cock and looked up at the man, who wore a displeasing scowl on his face. He grinned. "But why, mister, if you like it?"
Before the man had the chance to answer or to shove him roughly back onto his cock Law was already there, taking in as much of the man's long and fucking thick cock as possible. He felt like the corners of his mouth were tearing, like he was choking, shit, he had to suppress the urge to gag – but it was all totally worth it, judging on the reaction of his patron.
The man growled. He fucking growled like the beast he was.
He hollowed his cheeks again and then bobbed his head up and down the entire length. A huge hand was in his hair, tugging on the strands and guiding him up and down the straining erection.
Law was breathing harsh through his nose, fuck, the cock was fucking huge, he concentrated to not gag as the cock hit the back of his throat repeatedly, but shit, it was so fucking huge, so fucking delicious, so fucking hot.
Maybe he didn't even need to take that monstrous cock up his ass, if he sucked him off as good as possible, maybe if the man would reach his completion in his mouth he wouldn't get it up a second time – ahh, shit, he should stop lying to himself. This beast of a man was surely capable of getting it up twice in one hour, who was he kidding? Shit, no one in his right mind would pay two hundred bucks for only a blow job.
The red haired man above him moaned.
Shit, he had a task at hand. He concentrated back on the huge cock in his mouth, he sucked, he twirled his tongue around it, he licked, he cupped the man's balls – shit, why was he so fucking turned on by giving head to that man?
He tried to keep a regular pace, bob his head up and down, don't gag – but his patron grabbed his head rather harshly and forced him to eat as much of his dick as possible.
He forcefully withdrew his head and gasped for air. Panting he started up to his smirking customer.
"Do it harder, Heart."
To his satisfaction his patron was already panting hard too and he could tell that the man was close, really close. Before the man would force him on his dick again he already was back at licking the tip, teasing the man, stroking the shaft with hard strokes. He had a certain feeling that the man liked it rather rough.
He looked up back in those glowing orbs and then he swallowed as much of the straining cock as possible. He moaned around the huge rod in his mouth, hollowed his cheeks and sucked the ever living shit out of the cock.
He could hear grunts coming from above, but he couldn't concentrate on his other senses, on his own neglected cock, no shit, all he felt was that fucking hot dick in his mouth, pulsing, throbbing.
He tried to take the cock as deep as possible, he fondled the heavy sack, and then without any warning, the beast grabbed his head again and forced his cock down his throat and came. Hot cum was dripping down his throat, filling up his mouth. Tears gathered in his eyes, he was choking, shit, shit, shit – and then the death grip on his head loosened and the spent but still fucking huge cock slipped from his lips. Only the musky taste stayed.
He felt trails of cum mixed with his spit run down his chin. He glared up at the man that had used his mouth so ruthless. The fucker was smirking.
"That was nice for the beginning, Heart, but you can still work on your deep throating, don't cha think?"
"Fuck you." Law snarled, forgetting that he was supposed to please his customer.
"I like them defiant, I definitely do. Prep yourself."
"Huh?"
"I said: Prep yourself, if you don't wannit up the ass dry."
Law shuddered at the thought and quickly searched his discarded jeans for the small bottle of lube he kept in a pocket. He found the bottle and noticed from the corner of his eyes that the pale man was getting rid of his pants. For some reason the man still wore his heavy coat and thus the white wife beater beneath, shit, did the man wore a black leather glove on one hand? Shit. That was creepy. Immediately some thoughts of those leather clad fingers around his neck popped in his head.
The red haired man still stood at the foot of the bed and was watching him. He hurried up and poured a generous amount of lube on his fingers. He would for sure need it.
He leaned his back against the headboard and spread his legs, so that the red beast had a nice view of his puckered hole and erect cock.
He gave his hard cock some strokes, then he dipped his hand lower and finally entered one lubed finger into his hot hole.
Fuck, he was tight. Ahh, damn.
He tried to loosen himself up a bit, twisting his finger around, buried knuckle deep in his ass.
His patron was watching him with those scary glowing eyes, and fuck, he had never met a hotter stare, shit, that look was enough to ignite a fire in his gut.
The red haired man was stroking his dick back to full hardness, watching him intently.
Ahh, fuck. He inserted another finger and pumped them in and out, scissored them, tried to stretch his tight hole as good as possible. Shit, if that huge cock was supposed to fit in there – his last fuck was like three months ago, and if he remembered right he was on top that time. His ass wasn't ready for that cock, no shit.
He panted harder.
When was the last time he had fingered himself? Damn, he only jerked off in the shower, no fingering. Shit. He had forgotten how good it felt. FUCK! There was his prostate, shit, shit, shit, he couldn't stop stroking that particular spot, oh shit, he had forgotten how nice it felt to have something inside him, to feel full again – oh fuck!
Under his patron's scorching gaze he inserted a third finger, fuck, that was probably the most he could take, ahh-
He writhed on the bed, ached his back, oh shit, stroking his prostate was addicting – he felt tempted to stroke his cock, but he knew that he would come immediately. He settled instead for watching the heavy muscled man stroking his cock to the sight of him, moaning and writhing on the bed with his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of him.
"That's enough." The deep baritone of the man stopped him.
He withdrew his fingers from his tight hole and just lay there, occasionally twitching, waiting to be thoroughly fucked. The anticipation was killing him.
His patron was grabbing his ankles and yanking his body towards him. The sudden movement made him cry out in surprise, but he quickly shut up when he noticed the pale man hovering over him, still clad in the white wifebeater and the fur coat, but naked from the waist down. The man's tremendous erection was pointing towards him, and shit, the realization that that was going to be inside him crashed over him like a wave of cold water. Or hot fire. Shit. He wanted that huge dick inside him, all the pleasure it promised, all the pain it would bring for sure.
He still writhed on the bed, shit, his ankles felt like they were branded by the hot touch of that man, shit, his skin was probably hotter than the man's hair color – ahh fuck, this was going to be the end of him, shit, he would die from anticipation-
"I'm gonna fuck you now, Heart." The man rasped, face contorted into a mixture of lust and strain.
"Condom" breathed Law before they would forget. Damn, the man was only grabbing his ankles and was keeping his legs spread apart, and he was already losing his mind, panting, waiting, throwing all cautions overboard.
The man above him grunted and dug out of the depths of his coat a small foil packet. He ripped it open with his teeth, ah shit, those white, sharp looking teeth, hidden behind those fascinating red lips – then the leather clothed hand unrolled the thin rubber protection over those eight, almost nine inches of his.
Then the man crawled on the bed and spread his legs even wider apart. He got yanked forward so that his exposed crotch was meeting the pale man's. Oh shit.
The red haired beast grabbed his prominent erection and placed it at Law's slicked entrance. He tried not to think. It won't fit. It won't fit. I'll hurt. It'll hurt. But fuck it all, I want him inside me. Shit, the not thinking thing didn't work so well. Instead he tried to concentrate on the man above him. The man was sweating, small beads of sweat were making their way down the man's forehead - SHIT!
Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, the man had pushed his huge cock through his tight ring of muscles, ah shit, tight, he was too big, ohh, the burning stretch, shit, shit – breathe Law, breathe – and then the man pushed all the way in.
Both their bodies were connected at the most sensual and intimate place and the intensity of it blew Law's mind. He was stretched to the brim, so fucking full, ahh, the sweet pain, but his toes were curling, his treacherous body liked the total seizure.
The pale man grabbed his hips, stilled his writhing and jerking body with those huge hands clamping down on his hips, and then, to his surprise, the red haired beast leaned down, his huge erection still buried to the hilt in Law's body, and rested his head on his shoulder, and placed small kisses at his throat.
Shit. He wasn't prepared for that. Not at all. Shit, he couldn't handle kisses, he could handle pain, he could handle to be dominated, he could handle to get insulted, fuck, he could handle all kinds of sick stuff, thanks to Doflamingo, but this – to have that beast lean down and perform an act of affection, a small but tender gesture – that wasn't what he had signed up for when he had approached the red haired man sitting at the bar, no, not at all.
But then the moment was over, the man lifted his head back up, smirked at Law's probably really dumbstruck expression – and then the man's grip on his hips intensified to the level that it was probably bruising – and the fun started.
The man slowly withdrew his fucking huge cock and then slammed back inside. Law ached his back, his body convulsed; his hands were frantically searching for something to hold onto, he settled for grabbing the hard, fur clothed forearms of the man, ahh, fuck!
He couldn't think anymore, lust raced through his veins, pain and pleasure clouded his brain, shit, more, more, more-
Everything vanished in frenzy, colors blurred before his eyes, he was moaning, blabbing incoherent words, what was he saying?
"Fuck, fuck, ahh, shit, more-"
The pale man was as relentless, as brutal as he had imagined – that huge cock pounded into him merciless, abusing his ass, and shit, he liked it.
The rhythm was fast, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the small room, overpowered by moans and grunts.
"Fuck, Heart, you're so fucking tight-"
Fuck yes, he was sweating, trashing, taking all he could get, shit, the friction was killing him, shit, the man hit his prostate, shit, shit, shit – he bit his lips so he wouldn't cry out too loud, he clenched his fingers around the man's forearms as hard as the man was bruising his hips with his hard grip.
He was surprised by his own intense reaction. Usually he was the one dominating such an encounter, he was the one driving the other one crazy, but no shit, the tables were turned. He was the one coming undone beneath the huge stranger, he was the one breaking apart in tiny little pieces.
Suddenly the red haired man raised his hips and changed the angle, oh fuck, that was it – there, right there, more, don't stop, don't fucking stop –
The man above him groaned and pounded into his flesh with even more vigor, shit, what was it about this man? His brutal physical strength? His fucking huge cock that was fucking him merciless – FUCK! The man had let go of his hips and now the leather clad hand was stroking his weeping cock in harsh strokes, fuck, the cool leather of the man's glove was a kink he didn't expect to react so violently to, but shit, his hips were meeting the man's thrusts, his back was aching, he was back to biting his lip, fuck, fuck, what was the man doing to him?
And then the man was staring at his face again, his own features twisted in the frenzied lust they were both feeling, but shit, those glowing amber eyes were locking with his – and nothing was hotter than those eyes sharing the passion, shit, he lost himself in those eyes, that look, fuck, that look, they were connected, connected through flesh, connected through lust, connected through their souls.
He couldn't take it anymore. It was too much, too much to handle.
"Heart, yeah, like this, meet me-" The man mumbled, stroking his erection, leather on skin.
The heat coiled in his groin became unbearable, his senses exploded, fuck, no more, he was gonna burst –
"FUCK!" He screamed out and all the built up pressure erupted in one fucking intense orgasm.
His body twitched, his muscles spasmed and then some of the haze left his brain and he could observe the last shudders of the man above him, the pale man grunted, threw his head back and he stilled after one last powerful thrust.
Air.
He needed air.
Breathe, Law, breathe.
The man above him seemed to do the same thing: Trying to catch some air. After a few seconds they were both lying there, silence surrounding them, nothing could be heard than their harsh pants and the beats coming through the floor, and then the red haired beast flashed him a grin, all sharp teeth and red lips. "That was fun, Heart."
He nodded weakly and winced slightly when the man withdrew his still rather hard cock and threw the used condom on the ground.
Law was still lying on his back, watching the muscled beast moving on the bed. Then it was his turn to grin up at the man. "You up for a second round?"
"Fuck yes, I'm fucking paying for a whole hour, and it ain't over."
Law grinned again, sat up on the bed and used his moment of surprise to topple the man over on his back. He was straddling the pale man's hips and had his hands back on the huge cock that twitched eagerly beneath his fingers.
The man looked up at him and he must've caught his playful smile because he was returning it to him no less playful.
"Like to be on top, Heart?"
Instead of a reply Law stroked the man's cock with more vigor, fuck, that man was already back to full hardness. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed another condom from a bowl on the nightstand where they were conveniently displayed.
He opened the foil package with his teeth and fit the rubber on his patron's huge erection. He held the pale man down with one tattooed hand, grabbed the hem of the white wifebeater and lifted it up, admiring the ribbed stomach muscles that were revealed. He wanted to go further, to explore the outstanding physique of the man beneath him, so he trailed his hands up beneath the wifebeater, finding the man's nipples, pinching them, eliciting a groan from him. He grabbed the hem of the heavy fur coat and wanted to slide it over the man's broad shoulders, but the red haired man quickly grabbed his wrists and stopped the movement.
"The coat stays on." He grunted.
Kinky motherfucker.
Oh well, he wasn't the one dying from a heat stroke.
With his other hand he reached for the small bottle of lube again and squeezed some lube on his fingers. He slicked his sore hole once more, then he grabbed his patron's rubber clothed cock again and slowly lowered himself on it.
Shit, huge, so fucking huge.
Damn. His stomach muscles tightened, sweet tremors rocked his body and he wasn't the only one suffering from his slow, ever so slow lowering. Inch for inch. Slow.
The red haired man beneath him grunted and grabbed his hips once again, stilled his slow movement and then thrust upwards.
FUCK!
His prostate was hit, pleasure and lust erupted – and he started riding his patron, letting out his dominant tendencies. This time he was the one taking from the red haired beast, he was the one who took what he wanted, he was the one that did the fucking. And judging from the look of his customer he fucking liked it too.
Those huge hands still stayed on his hips, but the grip wasn't bruising, it was almost like the red haired man was holding onto him, not guiding him, but using him for leverage.
Fuck yes, if Law was the one bottoming, he loved to ride his partners. He wasn't one of those helpless bottoms that went on all fours and spread their legs, fuck no.
He grinned down at the man and rode faster, he slammed his ass back down on that huge cock, ahh, the burn, flesh on flesh, he felt the frenzy take over, the lust, the passion.
Harder.
Faster.
He was arching his back, throwing his head back, and lifting his hips up and then slamming back down, skin on skin, flesh slapping flesh.
This time they both needed longer to reach their orgasms, but fuck, he knew he was a damn tease – each time he sensed the red haired man was close, he slowed his movements down, he stilled, he waited. And just before the short fuse of the man beneath him would burst and he would be thrown over and pounded into oblivion, he sped his movements back up.
When Law couldn't possibly prolong the slow torture he had help up, he slammed down three more times and fuck, he felt the cock inside of him twitch and come, ahh, his prostate was hit one last sweet time – and that was it, he was coming, ahh, fuck, fuck, fuck-
.
.
He opened his eyes, shit, his ass ached, and to his slight confusion he was laying on his back, the red haired man looming over him.
"You're such a tease." The man commented.
Law grinned and tried to stretch his aching muscles. But the pale man had other plans for him. Huge hands manhandled him and placed him on his stomach, butt sticking out. He felt an unclothed hand probing at his entrance and smearing some more cold lube in it.
Did that man never tire out?
He tried to brace himself for what was about to come, he heard another foil packet rip open, then another intrusion in his body.
He was tired, shit, he was worn out, but his body still ached for more, his hips still met the man halfway, he still let out a long moan.
Oh fuck.
He face was pressed in the gross mattress, skin was slapping on skin, his relaxed muscles tensed up once again, and he couldn't help it, he was moaning, there was the leather clad hand back on his cock, ahh shit, shit, this was unfair, the sensations-
"Yeah, like that, take it-"
The man pounded into him, one hand on his back keeping him pressed into the mattress, the other hand holding his rear back up, his back was ached in an unbelievable angle, and his prostate was hit with every fucking thrust.
This was unbearable.
So fucking hot.
Fucking intense.
Fucking deep.
Shit.
His ass was on fire, his cock was aching, too much, too fucking much.
The red haired beast was pummeling his ass and Law felt that the man, no, beast, was finally unleashing his true nature, his animalistic, truly unrestrained side. He was powerless compared to that. He could only receive.
And receive he did.
His sweat slicked body was trembling and still demanding more, ahh, fuck! FUCK!
He came, he screamed, he clenched, he trembled, he crashed.
.
.
The red haired man was resting on his back and was pressing his body into the mattress. He tried to breathe, but it was fucking hard with two hundred pounds of muscle laying on top of him. The hot breath of his customer tickled on his neck and he tried to wriggle free from that crushing weight. The pale man seemed to get the hint and rolled over.
They both laid in silence, only panting.
After a few exhausted seconds the man got up and searched the ground for his pants. He put them on and was about to leave through the door, when the man stilled and dug his wallet out of the depths of his coat. The man threw five green bills on the bed, then gave him a last look and left. The door closed behind him with a soft thud.
Law's mind was pretty much empty. He stared for a couple minutes at the closed door, unable to move. Then his brain suddenly came into motion. Five green bills? That didn't make sense. Three fifties, two twenties? Five twenties? That fucker-
He grabbed the bills and to his utter surprise he held five fifties in his hands. Two hundred and fifty fucking dollars. No shit, that was a lot of money there. He'd need at least twenty for the cab ride back to his shitty apartment, but that still left two hundred and thirty for him. Shit.
He quickly forced his protesting body back into his clothes, shit, he would never wear tight jeans again, and pocketed his money.
He left the shitty bedroom without a glance back. He nodded to the queer who was still guarding the hallway and went outside.
He wanted a shower and his bed. Desperately.
He fetched himself a cab and rode home.
He was for sure coming back to the 'Arabasta' tomorrow night, hoping to come across the red haired beast once again. Oh – he totally forgot to ask for the man's name. But beast was just fine for him.
A/N: I wish fanfiction would create a category called badassness. This story would totally be in it. So I had originally planned that all that happened in this chapter and in the last three chapters to be the first chapter. Well, I guess this story is going to be a little longer than planned… and don't worry, there will be some plot – it will start back up in chapter six?
Leave a review! Love, M.
TBC