[A/N]: Fjord/Molly, both are trans guys, fingerfucking and light dom/sub themes.
--
"I just want you to know, I don't consider this one 'a' your secrets," Fjord says, pretty unnecessarily gruff for someone who's got his hands halfway down Molly's pants. "You're epically full of bullshit and a total swindler, but this ain't that. It's just...a thing. And I'm glad you decided to share it with me."
"Well, I'm very happy to share our things, Fjord," Molly replies cheerfully with just an edge of impatience, wiggling his hips a little. It's nice that Fjord's conscientious enough to reassure him, but would it have killed him to pick a better time for it? Say, perhaps a time when those blunt but surprisingly nimble fingers weren't skimming through Molly's pubic hair, scant inches from his swollen clit.
Damn, but Fjord can kiss like a champion. You wouldn't be able to tell just from looking at him, but his lips are nice and plush, his teeth just big enough to add interest without getting in the way, and his tongue is extremly talented. They've been making out like a couple of foolish adolescents for what seems like hours before getting to this point, and it's left Molly soaking wet, near the point where he fancies he can smell his own arousal.
Fjord isn't much better off, it looks like, his own scent spicy and, yes, a bit of sea-salt. There clearly isn't a sword in his pants, either -- Molly would've felt it for certain during those hours of grinding, and the look on his face as Molly glibly explained his situation said it all, really -- but it seems he's very happy to see him.
"See, that's what I mean by bullshit," Fjord says, and he chooses just that moment to pin Molly's clit between two fingers and start jerking him off with practised motions, so any retort he might have head comes out as a surprised moan instead.
"If there ain't anything in your mouth you just keep fuckin' running it," his words are harsh and his fingers match them, and if that's the way he wants to play it Molly certainly isn't complaining. He'll just grab both of Fjord's shoulders and dig his fingers in, feeling the muscles there flex with the movement.
"There, you know how to shut me up now. Just have keep my mouth full, it's easy."
It takes a great deal of his showmanship to keep his voice steady, but it pays off, because being a contrary shit is just the way to inspire Fjord to a greater fervor.
"...I left my cock in my pack," he admits, his fingers pausing their action to start on Molly's pants instead. Molly happily helps along, going for the hidden snap in the back that lets him tug them down over his tail and that's stumped a couple of partners before.
"That's fine, you'll have plenty opportunity to use it on me later if you do a good job now. Is it a scrimshaw? Ohh, I hope it's a scrimshaw. Never been fucked with one of those before." He's grinning as he says that, and grins even wider as Fjord's eyes narrow predictably.
"What did I fuckin' say?" he growls, and then he's got the pants off and his sword-calloused thumb is on Molly's clit, pushing back the hood, almost painfully rough. Molly sees stars. His head thunks into the tree he's braced against and his legs turn to jelly. His hips can't decide whether to jolt into or away from the sensation.
"You said that -ohh!- you couldn't shut me up without putting something in my mouth, I think. But there's plenty of ways to do that. You could sit on my face, there's no way I could talk if my mouth was full of your cunt but I'd eat you so good, I promise-"
"Shut up," Fjord repeats. His thumb dips down to gather sloppy wetness and then returns to Molly's clit, not only pressing in now but circling, the roughness softened just enough by the slick that Molly can't do anything but cant his hips up into it, and whatever his mouth is doing right now it sure as hell isn't talking, so that's a point for Fjord right there.
"I got plenty of uses for your mouth, believe me, but that's not what I want right now. Right now I want to fuck you with my fingers until you can't - make - a - sound and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Sound good?"
"Sounds fantastic, what's keeping you, do you want an engraved invitaahh oh fuck!"
Just one of those fingers feels thick enough to stun him and make him greedy for more at the same time, and Molly breathlessly hangs on to Fjord's shoulders with his claws out and gyrates his hips. Two fingers spreading him, one plunging in and out and there are sounds, obscenely sloppy wet sounds that almost make Molly blush because This is how wrecked he got you, and there's no way you can hide it, and you don't want to.
Fjord adds another unreasonably thick finger, but Molly's so turned on he parts for him like oiled silk. He can feel his pulse around those unyielding digits, the clench of his muscles as they drive deeper and then those fingers crook and find a spot that makes slick fairly gush out of him. Molly's back arches and he goes onto his tiptoes until it feels like he's standing on nothing but air, held up by nothing but Fjord's fingers hooking him and spiking pleasure into him so deep that flashes of light go off in front of his eyes.
"That's a good trick, I'm impressed," he starts, in a valiant effort to be a smartass, but those fingers flex and rub him just right and the words melt off into a moan. "Listen-" he starts again and is again interrupted by the perfect pressure flashing heat through his core. "I-" and Fjord's grinning as he does it again, self-satisfied and mean in the best way, he's clearly enjoying fucking Molly stupid. Which, Molly would object to it but his tongue is slack and his clever thoughts are just dripping out of him and his clit is aching for lack of attention, and privately he's very much enjoying the helplessness of being so thoroughly fucked he can barely think. He closes his mouth with a clack of fangs, submitting.
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Two known ways to make Mollymauk Tealeaf shut the hell up (1/2)
Date: 2018-03-17 09:32 pm (UTC)--
"I just want you to know, I don't consider this one 'a' your secrets," Fjord says, pretty unnecessarily gruff for someone who's got his hands halfway down Molly's pants. "You're epically full of bullshit and a total swindler, but this ain't that. It's just...a thing. And I'm glad you decided to share it with me."
"Well, I'm very happy to share our things, Fjord," Molly replies cheerfully with just an edge of impatience, wiggling his hips a little. It's nice that Fjord's conscientious enough to reassure him, but would it have killed him to pick a better time for it? Say, perhaps a time when those blunt but surprisingly nimble fingers weren't skimming through Molly's pubic hair, scant inches from his swollen clit.
Damn, but Fjord can kiss like a champion. You wouldn't be able to tell just from looking at him, but his lips are nice and plush, his teeth just big enough to add interest without getting in the way, and his tongue is extremly talented. They've been making out like a couple of foolish adolescents for what seems like hours before getting to this point, and it's left Molly soaking wet, near the point where he fancies he can smell his own arousal.
Fjord isn't much better off, it looks like, his own scent spicy and, yes, a bit of sea-salt. There clearly isn't a sword in his pants, either -- Molly would've felt it for certain during those hours of grinding, and the look on his face as Molly glibly explained his situation said it all, really -- but it seems he's very happy to see him.
"See, that's what I mean by bullshit," Fjord says, and he chooses just that moment to pin Molly's clit between two fingers and start jerking him off with practised motions, so any retort he might have head comes out as a surprised moan instead.
"If there ain't anything in your mouth you just keep fuckin' running it," his words are harsh and his fingers match them, and if that's the way he wants to play it Molly certainly isn't complaining. He'll just grab both of Fjord's shoulders and dig his fingers in, feeling the muscles there flex with the movement.
"There, you know how to shut me up now. Just have keep my mouth full, it's easy."
It takes a great deal of his showmanship to keep his voice steady, but it pays off, because being a contrary shit is just the way to inspire Fjord to a greater fervor.
"...I left my cock in my pack," he admits, his fingers pausing their action to start on Molly's pants instead. Molly happily helps along, going for the hidden snap in the back that lets him tug them down over his tail and that's stumped a couple of partners before.
"That's fine, you'll have plenty opportunity to use it on me later if you do a good job now. Is it a scrimshaw? Ohh, I hope it's a scrimshaw. Never been fucked with one of those before." He's grinning as he says that, and grins even wider as Fjord's eyes narrow predictably.
"What did I fuckin' say?" he growls, and then he's got the pants off and his sword-calloused thumb is on Molly's clit, pushing back the hood, almost painfully rough. Molly sees stars. His head thunks into the tree he's braced against and his legs turn to jelly. His hips can't decide whether to jolt into or away from the sensation.
"You said that -ohh!- you couldn't shut me up without putting something in my mouth, I think. But there's plenty of ways to do that. You could sit on my face, there's no way I could talk if my mouth was full of your cunt but I'd eat you so good, I promise-"
"Shut up," Fjord repeats. His thumb dips down to gather sloppy wetness and then returns to Molly's clit, not only pressing in now but circling, the roughness softened just enough by the slick that Molly can't do anything but cant his hips up into it, and whatever his mouth is doing right now it sure as hell isn't talking, so that's a point for Fjord right there.
"I got plenty of uses for your mouth, believe me, but that's not what I want right now. Right now I want to fuck you with my fingers until you can't - make - a - sound and that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Sound good?"
"Sounds fantastic, what's keeping you, do you want an engraved invitaahh oh fuck!"
Just one of those fingers feels thick enough to stun him and make him greedy for more at the same time, and Molly breathlessly hangs on to Fjord's shoulders with his claws out and gyrates his hips. Two fingers spreading him, one plunging in and out and there are sounds, obscenely sloppy wet sounds that almost make Molly blush because This is how wrecked he got you, and there's no way you can hide it, and you don't want to.
Fjord adds another unreasonably thick finger, but Molly's so turned on he parts for him like oiled silk. He can feel his pulse around those unyielding digits, the clench of his muscles as they drive deeper and then those fingers crook and find a spot that makes slick fairly gush out of him. Molly's back arches and he goes onto his tiptoes until it feels like he's standing on nothing but air, held up by nothing but Fjord's fingers hooking him and spiking pleasure into him so deep that flashes of light go off in front of his eyes.
"That's a good trick, I'm impressed," he starts, in a valiant effort to be a smartass, but those fingers flex and rub him just right and the words melt off into a moan. "Listen-" he starts again and is again interrupted by the perfect pressure flashing heat through his core. "I-" and Fjord's grinning as he does it again, self-satisfied and mean in the best way, he's clearly enjoying fucking Molly stupid. Which, Molly would object to it but his tongue is slack and his clever thoughts are just dripping out of him and his clit is aching for lack of attention, and privately he's very much enjoying the helplessness of being so thoroughly fucked he can barely think. He closes his mouth with a clack of fangs, submitting.