Disclaimer: This story is a complete work of fiction, written solely for entertainment purposes only. Any similarities to real life people, places or events are completely coincidental; I am in no way implying the true sexuality of either Kit Harrington or Richard Madden. This story also contains explicit sexual content between two or more males, so if you find m/m relationships insulting or if it is illegal in your country to be reading this, please leave. Please don't re-post this story without my consent, but other than that, sit back, unzip and enjoy!
*Please send any comments/criticisms to pudgunner@hotmail.com
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Richard feverishly reached into the inner lining of his slate-grey pea coat for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, reaching for his pack of Silk Cuts yet again to draw one of those thin, papery cylinders to his oh-so pouty lips. His lighter blazed with a flick of his thumb, before fading and sputtering with a strike of his wrist. He took a few long drags from the cigarette, smoke flaring from his nostrils like he was an awakened drake as the soothing nature of the tobacco saturated his temples like cold water running over his restless mind. He had arrived outside the sliding glass doors of one of the local Hiltons on Main Street a while ago, travel bag in tow, sporting a head of wind-tousled salt n' pepper hair, a steely gaze and a noticeably hard ridge running along the length of his hip under the confines of his trousers. Although that much, he hoped the pedestrians didn't notice.
He didn't believe he forgot anything. At least, nothing he would miss during a hookup. He had downed some of his leftover Cialis on the taxi ride over to guarantee a hefty performance, the drugs taking immediate effect and causing his cock to inflate in record time as a result--the shaft almost peaking over the belt loop of the hung stud's trousers as he strode out of the vehicle's passenger seat. He had a bottle of lube stowed discretely in his travel bag. A change of underwear, water to wash the potential taste of ass out of his mouth and enough condoms to last until next Christmas. So why in the world am I so on edge?
Maybe it was because he was about to breed one of his best mates like he was a houseboy in a Fraternity X episode? Maybe. He sucked in another lungful of blue smoke, his bile tasting like acid in his mouth. He should have brought a pack of spearmints or something before he made a beeline to Kit's room, not everybody liked kissing a smoker. But he was just so fucking horny.
Kit was apparently situated in one of the presidential suites at the top of floor of the place, both because he could afford it and also since he was officially sticking around Manchester longer than previously expected, given their nocturnal activities from the previous night. Kit's text clarified, and Richard quoted, that he simply wanted something more spacious to 'roll around' in while they made plans to 'reacquaint' themselves. Which in the Scotman's mind meant he wanted to be railed on every surface of the bedroom.
Unlocking his phone, he glanced at the instructions one last time.
Sent: Sat, 11 Oct 2020 11:40:32-0800 (WET) From: 'Kit' <44+ 113-234-1711>
[On my way. What's your room number again, just so I can head straight up to the suite?]
[7019, it'll be on your immediate right once you step off the elevator. You can't miss it stud.] [Just spruced up, popped my plug back in for you. I'm so ready for that fat cock.]
[Good boy. Gods I can't wait to stuff that hole.]
[Fuck yeah. That's what I wanna hear.] [The door's unlocked, so just come right inside when you arrive. I'll be in the master bedroom.]
[Sounds good. I can't believe we're fucking doing this. Any requests on how you want that ass fucked mister?]
[No words. No pleasantries. No condoms. Just use my hole.] [Just do that acting thing your apparently so good at. Forget I'm you're best mate. Treat me like one of your anon-cum dumps. You probably have a few of those, right?]
The Ikaris actor's hands began to tremble as another spike of adrenaline suddenly coursed through his veins, excitement bubbling up his throat after reading and re-reading the text--his imagination permeated with all those vulgar questions he had rattling around in his daydreams for years now about bastard of Winterfell. Questions that he would finally be getting the answers to. What his tongue tasted like, what his hole tasted like, how he looked with his knees tucked back behind his ears, how he sounded when he was getting the cum fucked out of him. Nothing was off the table now. At least, not according to his sexy-as-fuck co-star.
Madden cleared his throat, letting his final spent cigarette slip between his fingers, the heel of his foot crushing the smoldering butt into the ashfalt. Pulling up the collar of his pea coat to block the chill of the Manchester air from nipping at his neck, he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Rubbing his hands together to create a bit of friction between his palms, he eyed the valets in their navy blue vests stationed at both sides of the sliding glass doors of the Hilton's main entrance. One of them briefly locked eyes with the actor--blond, scruffy, with a crooked nose and a chiseled jawline--before his eyes quickly flitted away, embarrassed.
Richard idly wondered how often they cast judgement on horny bastards such as himself that walk through these doors with less than innocent intensions. The tales of subterfuge, infidelity and promiscuity that left behind filthy memories, and if not stains, inside. Maybe they liked swapping stories of the tenants. Or maybe they hadn't the foggiest of what sinful activities transpired within the walls of hotels like this, behind closed doors. No matter. The actor sighed deeply.
Now or never, old chum.
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The salt n' pepper hunk felt as if a phantom presence propelled his footsteps down the hallway of the seventh floor as he swiftly exited the elevator; that he was just a captive audience to his own corporeal body carrying him down the silk road to sinful pleasure. He had gotten his dick wet on one-night stands before, many times in fact, but this would undoubtedly be most--irregular to say the least. Even for him, who was known to be a bit of a Casanova amongst his friends. Well, the straight ones anyways.
Then he spotted it--the embossed '7019' gleaming at him from the painted wood surface of the suite door, just to the right of the elevator as the text had stated. At this rate Richard was achingly hard. The tips of his fingers ghosted over the length of his bulge, appraising the sheer density of his erection, now protruding obscenely from his crotch. He often got jittery sometimes when cruising, sometimes underperformed during one-off's like this, so he found the extra precaution with taking medication never hurt. Glancing at one of the opposing mounted mirrors on the wall, he could see his rod resembled less a man's cock, and more like a solid cucumber that he was stowing away in his pocket. A veritable veggie smuggler. He mused, smiling at his own joke. Cheekily, his fingers teased the mushroom head that was thinly veiled through the cotton of his trousers. He was solid as a rock, perfect for a deep fuck. It was time.
Discretely glancing over his shoulder to ensure the hallway was clear of roaming guests, he gave the doorknob to the suite an gentle twist--the door swinging open with zero resistance, as Kit promised. Without further adieu, he journeyed inside.
The place certainly did scream 'presidential', Madden admitted that much. The foyer was wide, open and airy--a series of white walls framed by glossy hardwood accents, and clear glass sheets acting as imbedded sliding doors which granted guests the viewing pleasure of those lovely grey Manchester mornings from several stories up. There were a few questionable avant-garde styled pieces littering the living room--two vases lining the entrance to the entertainment space of gold-veined black marble that Richard did like, and a sad misshapen swan sculpted from black iron which he did not--but overall he could see the appeal. The Scotsman sheepishly kicked off his shoes, torn between exploring the place or simply announcing his arrival to his host to get down to business.
Dropping his travel bag, he strained his ears, looking for some indication of which direction his awaiting stud lied in--only for him to catch the distant sound of music softly emanating to the door from his left. As good of a lead as any. He thought, already unbuckling his belt as he approached the threshold of what he could only assume was the master bedroom.
The door was left ajar, and upon peering through the crack, he could just make out the shape of mister Harrington on the bedspread--face down, ass-end up, clad only in a pair of crisp white sports socks, a jock and a red snapback turned backwards unto his pretty head. All while Al Green's 'Let's Stay Together' softly crooned from a Bluetooth speaker left on the dresser like it was a bad 70's porno. Class act, as always. He thought, sneering. Richard could see the Black Knight was absentmindedly texting, apparently. Maintaining his position on the bed by keeping that back arched, narrow hips spread and his bare chest pressed flat to the plush comforter as his thumbs twiddled over the surface of his phone. Occupying himself while he waited to be filled.
Kit looked even more scrumptious in person, if that was even possible. That hairless, full rump spread nice and wide with the base of a thick ink-black butt plug protruding from his slut hole--making the older actor's mouth flood with saliva at the thought of popping the toy out and shoving his probing tongue inside to replace it. Bracing his palm against the door, the randy Scotsman quietly slipped inside to appreciate his upcoming conquest further.
Even though the heels of his feet only ghosted over the carpet, he noticed Kit's breath hitched upon his entry, no doubt feeling the older gentleman's presence hovering behind him as he entered. However, as per his texts, he ignored him. Part of Richard considered greeting him--maybe a 'hey, how you doing' or 'how's your hangover' or even 'your balls look really good from this angle', but all of it seemed to get trapped in his gullet by the sheer loin-splitting desire that was writhing in the pit of his stomach like a coiled snake. The sight of his co-star baring it all in front of him was breathtaking. But according to Kit, Richard being too friendly might 'break the fantasy'.
He wanted to be his fuck toy, so it was only polite to oblige.
Sauntering into the room, the Scottish stud softly closed the door behind him, ensuring he heard the latch click behind him as he turned around and carefully began unzipping his trousers. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his undies, he nudged his narrow hips out of his tight dress pants bit by bit--flashing inch-by-succulent-inch of his downy treasure trail before finally letting his garments fall soundlessly to the floor. The audible slap of his hefty tool smacking against his taut abdomen startled him, his meat snapping back from it's confines to break the long-standing silence for the first time since he breached the master bedroom. The relief of finally releasing his dripping erection to the open air felt good, but finally being able to touch himself and handle his manhood with this marvelous view of his costar in front of him was even better.
Delicately, the older man slipped one foot and then the other out of the clothes pooling around his ankles, his manhood bobbing with each motion as he did so. The Scottsman was a sight to behold himself as he approached the randy Londoner splayed before him on the king-sized bed; all wide-shouldered, trim, but masculine and mature--clad in nothing but his button-down shirt, black socks and their buckled suspenders strapped to his calves. A veritable 'Vouge' editorial, if they allowed their models to sport major schlong on their covers. He lazily worked his fist up and down his gargantuan cock that rose at a steep upward incline from under the hem of his shirt, slowly working the foreskin back and forth over his perfect mushroom head as he approached the bed.
Finally at the helm of the bed, a deep-seated part of the Eternals actor just wanted to yank that pesky plug out of Kit's rump and spear him unto his achingly hard rod and start railing the stud stupid. Instead he decided to show a little tact. Idly pressing the pad of his thumb between the hot crevice of the other man's plump backside, his thumb prodded at the rubbery base of the plug shoved between those juicy asslips, getting a feel for it's girth and depth. Kit groaned, his hips tilting to meet his movements as the soft clicking of his phone's keypad tickled Richard's ears. Oh, this is going to be fun.
Hooking his fingernails under the lip of the plug, he gently removed it, the Londoner's hole making a lewd plopping sound as Madden left him gaping and winking at the sudden vacancy. After a bit of a pregnant pause, instinct caused Richard to quickly sink his thumb past his glistening asslips to replace it, all the way to the knuckle, prompting Kit's toes to curl as the man stifled a strangled moan. As promised, his ass was pre-lubbed, the silky walls of his chute gripping Richard's digit like a babe desperately suckling for sweet sustenance. Richard's cock throbbed at the erotic sensation of wet tightness he felt around his finger, his shaft brushing up against the other man's thigh as he explored his passage. Prodding at his co-star with an insistent but gentle rhythm, his icy blue eyes raking over the reams of flesh and sinew before him, practically boring a hole into his conquest like a lynx does it's prey.
Confident that Kit was hardly an amateur and had already spent the morning prepping for something a bit bigger than his thumb, he proceeded to slip a second and third finger past his entrance, genuinely surprised at the elasticity of the bloke's rectum as he opened up like some sort of pale blossom. Damn he must be randy. The actor thought, finding zero resistance corkscrewing his fingers into the man splayed below him as he fingered his hole like he would any pussy. The thirty-five year old then raised his free hand to his lips, making a vulgar sound in the back of his throat and spitting a wad of mucus into his palm before returning to jerking off his fat cock, coating his shaft in a thick layer of saliva as he cheekily gave the submissive lad beneath him a few jabs with his wrist, Kit simply grunting and flexing his glutes in response. Only encouraging the Scotsman to finger his loose hole deeper, faster.
Madden's dark gaze flitted over one of his co-star's rounded shoulders; spotting Kit's phone screen now that he had a slightly more intimate vantage point. He could make out a series of blue and yellow chat boxes filling chat, a visual that could only be indicative of the MCU star hitting someone up on Grindr of all things.
Richard snorted to himself, amused. From what Richard could see, Kit was sending some pretty raunchy hole pics to some gent a few kilometers outside of the city, already setting up another dick-appointment for the weekend after he got over his hangover. Kit really is a huge slut. Richard thought as he continued to play with his meat, probing his friends mailable hole with purpose as his shaft radiated heat like hot iron in his fist.
Old friend. The Ikarus actor's lips twisted at the softer notion. The older man unsheathed his fingers from Kit's smooth pucker; taking a moment to suck the wet muskiness off his finger tips, relishing in the succulent flavor of the other stud's juicy hole as he lined up his now achingly hard cock along the crevice of Kit's spread ass. The familial term made Richard's heart flutter more than he would let on, a strangely romantic notion when one is giving your best mate a colonoscopy for fun. Old friend indeed. But he decided not to dwell too much on the feeling. Here he was, about to mount this sexy fucking pretty boy. This obedient, cocksucking, 170 pound piece of muscle-bound stud was his to dump his load in. To toy with, to tease, to use. And there was nothing on the face of this planet that could stop him from doing so now.
Incensed, the hung stallion lined up his gargantuan rod with the Lord Commander's loosened hole and pushed. Sliding to the hilt in a single effortless motion.
"Fuuuck." Was all Richard could utter, the sublime sensation of the younger man's chute enveloping his cock knocking the breath out of him. Kit threw his head back with a guttural moan, his back muscles coiling at the sudden intrusion as he attempted to adjust to the huge cock now occupying his hungry hole. Firmly nestled inside the now verified bottom boy, Richard beamed, his dark eyebrows rising to the top of his forehead as he began a slow rhythm of sliding his meat in and out of the other blokes pliant rump. In complete disbelief that a guy like him could be lucky enough to make a score as outlandish as this.
Richard clapped one of his hands against one of the other lad's fat cheeks, his fingers grabbing the sweet slab of Kit's hindquarter and shaking it, feeling the weight behind the other man's glute in his open fist.
"Fuck. Someone's been doing double time on their squats." Richard husked, enthralled. "You're such a good hole. A proper cocksleeve. Spread that slut hole for me." Kit complied wordlessly, settling into a wider kneeling stance as he tensed his pelvis to meet Richard's own hard strokes. Letting out a low cry each time the Scotsman's hips snapped against his own. The sheer excitement of finally getting the Londoner taking his dick was already making Richard hot n' bothered already, his blood running like magma through his temples. The building heat in his chest prompted him to feverishly unbutton his flannel shirt with shaking fingertips, peeling the garment off his bulbous shoulders to reveal a marvelous pair of perky, hairy pecs.
Madden's renewed sessions at the gym were paying off for his role as an Eternal--the older gent's teats were two proud peaks of muscle with a closely-trimmed, swirling down of brown hair coating them from rib to collarbone--topped with two stiff, oh-so chewable sugar-pink nipples. The extensive training regiment he has been subjected to was challenging, moreso than any role of his prior, and the subsequent results surprised even him at how much his physique had changed over the past ten months of pre-production for the film. He swirled the tip of one of his eraser-like nubs between his fingertips, hissing between his teeth as the stimulation fired a direct pleasurable synapse to the root of his cock in response. Fuck my tits are sensitive. It was hard for him to even go out and about in loose-fitting tees or tank-tops anymore, the simple sensation of his nipples rubbing against the loose fabric was enough to get them so pinpoint-erect that they cast shadows through the material of his shirt.
But even now, balls deep in his on-screen half brother he couldn't help but flex them a bit as he fucked his co-star, just to show off. His chest forming a manly cleavage under his chin as he made a point of gripping the other man's slim waist more firmly, wrapping both hands around Kit's hips to allow the veins in his equally impressive biceps to pop as he took more measured thrusts into the theater major below him.
"Take it." He would utter every now and then in a low hiss, like a personal mantra to himself. "You wanted that fat arse stuffed, now take it. Take that fucking cock."
Now practically naked, sans his socks and their buckled suspenders wrapped around his grapefruit-sized calves, Richard's gaze was glued to the sight of his king-sized cock disappearing over and over in between the mounds of Harrington's ass. It wasn't too often that anybody could take someone his size with such ease, male or female for that matter, and the way that Kit's scrumptious asslips swallowed up his uncut rod was the stuff of poetry. Each motion of his hips enticing a series of lewd, slick sounds of the other bloke's warm depths inviting him in with every thrust.
The horny bastard seemed to also be enjoying himself, as far as Richard could tell; with Kit's low groans turning into tenor-pitched cries of pleasure as he felt the younger man slowly but surely relax his hole around his tree-trunk shaft. The Londoner could have been the star of one of the many amateur collage jock pornos the Richard often rubbed one off to during the wee hours of the morning, with how well he was taking his dick. His glossy black curls sprouting out in ringlets from the rim of his snapback cap, bouncing with each movement of the Scotman's taunt pelvis. His stellar rump framed and secured with the black n' red bands of his jockstrap, offering up his well-used rectum like dinner on a silver platter.
"Like what you see?" Kit husked, snapping the other man's attention back to the present. The raven-haired lad began to arch his back like a feral alley cat, causing his deltoids to pop and thick biceps to curl as he supported himself against the plush comforter of the bed--bracing himself against his co-star's anal assault. Cheekily, Kit slowly turned his head to glance at his hung stud top hovering over his shoulder, curiosity sparking in his eyes as the 'O' shape his cherry lips formulated into a grin.
Like what he saw? Does her Majesty shit and fart just like the rest of us?
"Oh fuck yeah." Madden breathed, wiping the growing sheen of perpetration off his brow.
Kit hummed in ascent, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "Well, wanna make one more memory for the road then stud?"
Confused, Richard's feverish movements slowed to a few lazy thrusts, the slick sound's of the Londoner's loosened passage still teasing his eardrums. Memory for the road? Like a sex tape?
"You mean with the RCM? Yeah, I mean, it's still in my pack." Richard chortled, the timbre of his highland accent thick in his voice. The idea did sound hot, plus he could use a break; fucking Kit was already getting him dangerously close to orgasm. His eyes flitted across the master bedroom, landing on the spot where he chucked his travel pack haphazardly into the corner.
"Fetch it. I want to capture the moment." Harrington ushered in a masculine murmur, his onyx eyes burning into Richard's sapphire ones. The older gentleman's dimples deepened at the notion, and with a backhanded slap against the other man's rump he slowly unsheathed his manhood from Kit's loosened hole to venture for his camera; Kit sighing deeply at the sudden emptiness he felt in his guts. Chuckling, Richard sauntered towards his travel pack, the actor popping a squat over the bag as his rigid package bounced with almost comedical motions. He rummaged about it's confines, sifting through his possessions until his fingers finally wrapping around the analog camera he was searching for. Time to make a movie.
Smirking at the prospect of doing a kind of shoot that he had certainly NEVER done with Kit before, Richard began calibrating the RCM; opening the external HUD and ensuring that he had enough tape for at least a good five-to-ten minute segment of footage, as he wanted to make this particular event the main hidden gem of his archives. Standing, he returned to his patiently awaiting fuckhole--mischievously eying Kit's lithe form through the viewfinder of the camera as he idly fisted his cock, still deliciously slick with saliva. Fucking Christ. Richard swore that the grainy picture of Kit's now gaping hole COULD be a magnum opus. Worthy of a framed showcase in a gallery, emblazoned across the walls of the National Gallery--it was so fucking pretty. The Black Knight's previously perfect, rosebud colored pucker was now swollen and tender and glistening. Fluttering with each deep lungful of air the younger man took into his esophagus.
The would-be cameraman approached the bedspread with erotic purpose; the swell of his thick thighs making the cheeks of his own fuzzy backside rise and fall as he hovered over his partner, his cock protruding from his groin like an engorged battering ram. After ensuring that the record button was on, Madden lined up his cock with Kit's passage again and gingerly sank back inside in one smooth movement, the bloke below him putting up zero resistance to the intrusion; instead turning his pelvis upward to meet his movements. Just like a good slut. He thought, relishing in the pleasures of the other man's silky chute again.
Panning the camera downwards to capture the view of his pelvis slapping against the meat of his co-star's backside, the Scotsman resumed the delightful process of coaxing quiet moans from Kit's cocksucking lips as he began working his hole open again. Just like any role, he was good with finding his light, working his angles. He tilted his wrist more steeply, raising the camera to rest just over his chest as his free hand held Harrington still, cupping the small of his back as he used him like his own personal fleshlight. The view of those two granite mounds of ass being impaled on his cock, Richard's muscular chest flexing and heaving, his hairy knuckles turning white as they closed around the other man's hip--it was all worthy of the best OnlyFans pages he ever saw at least.
He idly fantasized about what would happen if that particular idea ever came to fruition; he and Kit quitting acting, pooling their funds and deciding to rent out a cottage some where remote and just fuck on camera for money. The outrageous amounts folks would pay just for a glimpse of the sight he saw now through his camera lens. Seeing the watery, pleading eyes of Jon Snow looking down the barrel of his lens as he stuffed his throat full of cock. It made him sad, delighted, wistful and very horny all simultaneously. All the things that could be, might be, may have been had he been more forward earlier in their career. Well, better late than never. He thought bitterly, his balls slapping against Kit's own low hangers once more.
Harrington's moaning was quickly turning into whining, his hole becoming tender and sore from the abuse of their prolonged, deep-dicking session. The bloke grabbed two generous fistfuls of his own asscheeks, spreading his backside even wider in an attempt to somehow take his hung stud top even deeper into his bottomless passage; tensing his abdominals and pistoning his hips to meet his cameraman's harsh strokes, picking up the rhythm of their fuck. Faltering with his thrusts, Richard decided to still his movements; giving his needy bottom the limelight and letting him fuck himself unto his juicy rod. Taking a moment to bend his knees and tense his quads in order gain some traction against the strength of the theater-major's counter-thrusts.
"Yeah baby, back it up. Back up on that dick nice and deep." The older gentleman soothed, Kit milking his shaft like a man possessed. The pouty-lipped hunk took the instruction to heart, flat-out bracing his fists against the headboard of the bed and slamming his succulent hole up against Richard's taunt pelvis. Back and forth, from the thick mushroom tipped head to hairy bush below. The sensation causing the veins to pop in the older hunks' tight abdominals, droplets of saliva and mucus spattering across his treasure trail at the sheer velocity of Kit's feverish movements. The sexy bastard was taking his dick like a fucking champ.
"Oh fuck--Kit, your taking it so well...sooo fucking good..." Richard moaned, his vocals wavering with the waves of white-hot pleasure building at the pit of his gut, genuinely suprised at his co-star's stamina. Grinning like some devilish incubus from the pit itself, Kit sneered over his shoulder, never breaking the rhythm of his onslaught for a second on the other actor's impressive cock.
"Oh yeah buddy? You getting close? Gonna loose it and knock me up?" The Adonis hissed, flexing his glutes around Richard's dick, almost making him stumble. "Gonna bust my hole wide open with that huge cock?"
Richard could barely formulate a single train of thought, let alone words, his fingers feebly attempting to close around Kit's hips to slow him down. He was getting close, too close, and he desperately wanted this to last. But his actions did little-to-nothing to halt his relentless rhythm as the power bottom continued to take control, working his cock, making the salt n' pepper stallion shudder under his expert touch.
"Jesus--Kit, you better fucking stop..." Madden breathed, a chuckle turning into a strangled squawk in his throat as his balls churned and tightened against his scrotum. Kit's suction on his juicy cock getting more sublime by the second.
"Or what?" He snarled, making a point to flex his insides, making Richard wince as he squeezed his shaft in the iron grip of his colon until it ached dully. "Cum in me. Drench my hole in that baby batter stud, I wanna feel you flooding my guts."
Even the slightest movement of Kit's deep, ragged breaths felt delicious around Richard's sizable girth; as much as he could fuck the depraved pretty boy for hours, it was impossible to deny him of the privilege of his load any longer. He curled his fingers around the waistband of his red n' black jock, bunching the material in his fist, relinquishing himself to the impossibly handsome man beneath him. A low groan building in the depths of the Young Wolf's diaphragm, rumbling like a tremor.
"Fucking cum in me, fucking cum in me!" Kit whined, a perpetual kitten in heat. "Wreck my fucking hole Rich, dump it inside me. Gods that cock is so FUCKING huge."
"Oh Kit, I'm gonna nut--I-fuck!--" Richard sputtered, eyelids skewing shut as he finally came. His shaft throbbing between Kit's asslips as he released volley after volley of hot cum into his partner's hole, Kit's own deep groans joining his own as he began to feel the warm liquid coat his insides like a thick custard. The fluid beginning to drip down Richard's hefty nutsack as Kit continued fucking himself unto his manhood, the movement turning from addictively pleasurable to a delicious torture as the greedy stud milked every last drop from the tip of his bulbous shaft. The RCM slipped through the actor's fingertips, soundlessly landing on the bedspread as his strength quickly left his limbs. Richard bit his lip, his cock surprisingly sensitive in it's post-orgasm state as Kit continued to take the liberty to stuff his hole full of his spent meat. Kit may as well have been deaf to Richard's feeble cries, only seeking the intense sensation of that Scottish cock re-arranging his insides.
"Ouff--geez, Kit, let me." Richard huffed, hunching over as he gripped his shaft by the base and tugged his semi-flaccid rod out of the other man's hungry hole, evacuating it with a gratuitous 'plop'. "Your going to kill me at this pace."
"Oh common, you've only had me pining for that python between your legs for--how many years now? Almost a decade? I'm allowed to have a little fun." Kit chortled, twisting his limbs to splay across the now tangled comforter to lie on his back. The gorgeous lad turned to face him front-on for the first time all afternoon; all twinkling dark eyes, sexy lips, ears flushed and hot as his laugh lines deepened into a disarming smile. An absolute vision, especially with his muscular arms haloed above his head as he reared them in a long stretch. Pits waxed smooth for the occasion much to Richard's surprise, as the rest of him was. Can't fault a guy for being consistent.
"Okay, okay. Yes, we should have done this sooner." Richard concurred, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as he squeezed his spent shaft. Attempting to avoid a potential mess in his trousers later in the day by coaxing the remnants of cum to ooze from his piss slit, ensuring the passage was clear. "Much sooner. Fuck that was good."
"Good? That was bloody incredible." Kit cooed, wriggling his hips as he settled more firmly into the mattress. The luscious stud spread his meaty thighs, subtly granting the opposing man the perfect few of his own gaping, cummy hole lying just under a smooth, unmarred taint as well his own distractingly prominent bulge straining against his tightly-secured jock. Half hard and still leaking a steady stream of pre-cum through the red cotton of the jock itself, the actor's fingers slithered between his legs to probe at his wrecked asshole, his fingers slapping playfully against his entrance before sinking a few digits inside experimentally. First two, then three, the younger man's lips parting to let out a low groan every time be breached his wet, cum-coated asslips. The sight was already making Madden's shaft twinge at the idea of mounting him again to rinse-and-repeat the last half hour of their day, if only just to produce one more video clip for his growing archive.
"You fucked me so good." Kit continued in a velvety voice, the fingertips of his free hand coyly applying a gentle touch to one of his perky nipples as his other continued probing at his insatiable fuckhole. "Have you had breakfast yet? I know it's past noon, but they make a mean Egg's Benny down in the dining area here." Richard considered this for a moment, eyeing the scrumptious man before him up and down.
"And why would I want that, when I have a whole buffet to myself right here?" He retorted, already climbing on top of the Londoner and locking lips with the bearded bastard below him. His fingers once again groping for his forlorn camera to set up for what for what would undoubtedly be a long couple of hours of shooting ahead of him.
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Thanks again for reading! As per usual, I write as slower than a tortoise on Valium, but I somehow managed to churn out the second part to 'Balls Deep In Snow' one way or another. This was incredibly fun to write, especially since the concepts of a 'soft-top' and a 'dom-bottom' always appealed to me as I love breaking tropes, and these seem to be just the boys to test out this dynamic on!
And as per with my last installment, my sincerest apologies for anybody who lives in the greater United Kingdom who had to read a Canadian's interpretation of Scottish and English lingo, I more than likely butchered both dialects in the making of this story, haha. But hopefully you as the reader did not find my pitiful attempts at world building too distracting from rubbing one out to these two hunks rubbing one out, haha.
Either way, please feel free to send me your thoughts and feelings concerning this piece in the meantime! I look forward to reading your comments. You can also find me active on @PudSmut via Twitter if you like thirsty dick feeds.
- Pud