Doing It
by Kayla
Spike/Xander Style
Strife/Joxer Style
Richie/Methos Style
Disclaimer: Not one single person that I have written about in this thing is mine. I blatantly stole them, used them shamelessly, and sent them back all rumpled, sweaty, and smelling like sex. However, I am glad to report that there were no complaints of my treatment of them.
Author's notes: I did it! I got my diploma! Never again will my shadow darken the 'hallowed' grounds of that evil institution. I am free at last! And, uh, in case you hadn't figured it out, this is my little way of celebrating. :)
Also, these little bits of smut are set at some arbitrary point in time, don't question it, don't try to make sense of any timelines, just go with the flow. No back stories, no sequels, just lots of gratuitous nudity. Basically, I made up a reason to get the boys in bed. Any complaints?
Spike/Xander Style
Spike was muttering softly as he inserted his key into the lock to his and Xander's apartment. Like any vamp, he loved getting to participate in a decent spot of violence, but his ponce of a Sire had kept him away from his Nummy for too long. How was he supposed to go more than 24 hours without shagging his scrumptious love pillow?
As he stepped into the dimly lit room, he detected a scent of excitement. A slight sound alerted him, and he turned just in time to catch the large, muscular form that jumped at him.
"Spike! Spike you're home!" Xander captured his lips in a wet but all-too-brief kiss. "I did it, Spike, I did it!" He pulled away from the clinging vampire, darting across the room to snatch up a piece of paper. Within seconds, he was back, shoving the crisp parchment so close to Spike's face that his blue eyes crossed trying to make out the writing.
"Hey, hold up pet, lemme see that." He plucked the paper away with one hand, using the other to pull Xander close so he could lean into his warmth. And there it was. In stylish script, proof that the years of struggling and hard work on Xander's part had finally paid off. He grinned, setting the diploma down on the coffee table, then turning Xander's head for another kiss.
A few minutes later, they parted, one gasping and panting for breath, the other placing little nibbling licks along a warm jawline. "Knew you could do it, pet. Way t' go."
Flushed and even happier than before, Xander was fairly bouncing as he glanced at the diploma again. "I got it in the mail today, and kept staring at it, thinking maybe it would disappear. I can't believe I finally finished."
"Never had a doubt, m'self. You got brains on you, luv. Hey, you're shacking up with me, ain't you? Goes to show how much smarts you've got."
"I did it. I really, truly did it. I'm a college graduate now." His eyes were wide with wonder. So many years he'd strove toward this moment, and it had finally arrived. Sure, he'd walked at the graduation ceremony -- at night, thankfully, so Spike had been in attendance cheering loudly for him -- but now... He'd gotten his diploma. Proof.
Spike chuckled at the look on his lover's face as the human kept his eyes on the paper. "Oh, luv?" Xander turned to stare at him dazedly. "You know what good little boys who graduate college get?"
Xander smiled as he leered at Spike. "Chocolate? A pat on the head?"
"Mmmm. Close." Growling, Spike grabbed Xander and flung him up over his shoulder. He gave the half-heartedly struggling form a play smack on the ass as he carried him into their room, tossing him onto the rumpled bed.
Xander licked his lips as he stared up into the glowing eyes of his vampire lover. He watched breathlessly as the pale body was stripped, exposing the smooth skin to his lustful gaze. "Oooh, this is better than chocolate. But barely." He held back a laugh as Spike snarled, pouncing and straddling him on all fours.
"Barely? I'll show you barely." His fangs dropped as he leaned down, dragging them ever so gently over the pulsing vein in Xander's neck. He kissed the damp skin, then dug his teeth into the fabric of his lover's t-shirt, pulling his head back sharply.
A loud ripping sound filled the room, and Xander arched his back up off the bed, gasping. His hands reached up to grasp Spike's shoulders, but they were immediately pinned above his head with one of Spike's stronger hands. More tugging and ripping followed, and shortly, Xander lay with his shirt shredded off his torso.
Spike released Xander's hands so he could move down, mouth and lips never leaving the warm, trembling skin. Reaching the barrier provided by the human's boxers, he raised up, rumbling happily as he contemplated the damp, tented material.
Xander whimpered, pushing his hips up so his restrained cock lightly bumped against Spike's chin.
Spike made 'tsk'-ing sounds, shaking his head. "Ah, ah. Now Xanny, I'm the one rewarding you. So just...lie back and take it like a man." Now holding on to Xander's hips, he lowered his head once more, licking along the cotton-covered mound.
Ignoring the human's pleading moans, he dragged his sharp teeth through the fabric, producing long tears. Soon there was nothing left but strips of multi-colored cloth hanging from the waistband, framing the deeply flushed penis that was rising proudly.
"Time to get your head 'patted', luv." He laved the erect flesh with his tongue, teasing it over Xander's drawn up balls to tickle along the taut flesh that practically begged for each touch. With an evil glint in his eyes, Spike let his fangs press gently against the drooling head, barely scraping the tender skin.
Xander howled, bucking up wildly as he started to babble incoherently. He again tried to clutch at Spike's head, but his hands were knocked away as the blonde rose up to loom over him.
Spike hovered over his mate, inhaling the musky scent of arousal that was sharp in the room. His own cock was painfully hard, and he reached across the bed for the lube that had been left on the bedside table. Swiftly, he uncapped it and squirted out a healthy portion, using it to liberally coat his erection. Wiping the excess onto the sheets, he spread Xander's legs apart and settled between them. His hands slid under the brunette's knees, pushing them op toward his chest.
Xander helpfully grabbed hold of his own legs, holding them apart and baring himself to his lover's hungry sight. He groaned happily as a mouth descended on his, tongue forging its way inside while Spike braced his arms on either side of his head. There was a blunt pressure against his ass, then the vampire's slick cock began its inexorable advance.
Spike purred, his chest vibrating with pleasure as he entered the familiar, hot depths of his squirming lover. He released Xander's mouth, allowing the human to gasp in some desperately needed air, then took possession of those full lips once more. He set up a harsh, pounding rhythm, his balls slapping loudly against Xander's ass.
Xander let go of his legs, twining them around Spike's back. His hands scrabbled for purchase on the slippery, sweaty flesh writhing above him. Every surge of the hard flesh inside him scraped over his prostate, causing his cock to twitch violently as it was rubbed between two firm stomachs.
Growling, Spike dragged his lips down Xander's face, crawling across the skin until it reached the curve where his neck and shoulder met. He pressed a sucking kiss there, then let his fangs get a soft grip. At Xander's breathless 'yessss', he sank his teeth into the human, drawing forth a steady stream of blood that was thickly laced with the heady flavor of love, and sex, and need. And as Xander neared his orgasm, the flavors became richer, deeper, exploding intensely across Spike's tongue.
Before he went too far, Spike tore his mouth away, licking up the remaining drops of blood that sprang forth from the twin punctures. Xander whimpered, crying out brokenly as his body convulsed, the muscles in his ass milking the vampire's cock while his own erupted, sending a fiery burst of semen to flood their chests.
As his cock was gripped tightly by the silken walls of Xander's ass, Spike grunted, snapping his hips forward as he pounded faster into the human's willing flesh. It was when Xander pulled his head down and bit into his neck, blunt teeth digging into his skin, that he lost it, cumming with a muted howl. His body remained tense, locked in place as he shot his dead seed deep into his lover. Another moment of stillness, then he collapsed, unable to roll himself off to the side since Xander had yet to release his arms and legs from their death grip on him.
Xander moaned in satisfaction as his lover's weight dropped onto him. He held his legs in place, not wanting Spike to slip out of him before it was absolutely necessary. He unclenched his hands, running them down the damp, pale back. Pulling his mouth away, he kissed the indentations his teeth had left, sighing happily as a rumbling purr started up once more.
Content to be wrapped up in the sweaty, satiated warmth of his lover, Spike smiled. He sucked briefly on a tempting earlobe then whispered, "Hope you're not too disappointed by the lack of chocolate, pet."
Xander hummed sleepily. "Nah. Got something better inside me." He squeezed lightly on the softening flesh that had yet to escape from his body.
"Mmmm. Gonna wake up stuck together."
"Don' care. Like sticking to you. Sleep now..." Xander snuggled down onto the bed, holding Spike close.
Spike watched him drift off, then smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Congratulations, Xan. Love you." Closing his eyes, he joined his lover in sleep.
End this style
Strife/Joxer Style
Joxer sat on the grassy bank, carefully unfurling the parchment. Over and over, he read the bold words inscribed on the clean surface. He traced over the dried ink, still feeling somewhat awed that he'd even managed to earn this.
"How'd it go?"
Joxer squawked in alarm at the voice and the arms that wrapped around him. Whipping his head around, he lost his hold on the parchment, which curled itself back up and rolled down the bank toward the river. Joxer pulled away, scrambling after it. He cried out when it neared the water, knowing he wouldn't be able to reach it in time.
Suddenly, it stopped rolling, then rose gently into the air, drifting back to Joxer, who grasped it reverently and clutched it to his chest. Then he turned back to the man who'd startled him.
Strife smiled sheepishly, shrugging. "Oopsie." He patted the grass next to him, waiting until Joxer crawled back over. Arms securely around the man once more, he shifted to make them comfortable. "Sorry 'bout that, Jox," he whispered apologetically.
Joxer relaxed, returning the smile. "That's ok," he answered, turning his head to kiss Strife's jaw.
"Mmm." The god snuggled closer, loving the scent and feel of the man in his arms. "Cool. So, that it?" He nodded toward the parchment, which had somehow survived its little trip in immaculate condition.
Joxer blushed. "Yeah," he mumbled, then held it out. "Want to see?"
Eagerly, Strife took it, unrolling it again. He quickly read over it, then squeezed Joxer tight, kissing the back of his head. "Knew ya could do it." He sighed heavily. "Wish I couldda been there ta see ya get it. But, y'know, Unc had this thing I had to do, an'--" Joxer's giggles cut him off mid-excuse.
"It's ok, I know how Ares can get. I'm just glad you're here now."
"Course I am," Strife asserted indignantly. "I had ta give ya your present."
"Present?"
"Sure. S'not every day my lover graduates the academy an' becomes a real bard." He leered at the bashful man. "Y'know, I nevah had my very own bard ta fuck before. Think I should break ya in."
Joxer caught his breath. "Oh, yes, please."
"Well, since ya ask so nice an' all. But first..." He concentrated on the parchment, and it vanished. "There, now that's safe." He kissed away Joxer's worried frown. "Hey, no prob. I just stashed it at my place. Don't want it to get messed up when we...consummate your success."
"Oh. Yeah." he watched as slim fingers trailed across his shoulders to the laces of his shirt, slowly pulling them apart.
Strife moved around to Joxer's front, untucking his shirt as he went. Nudging the mortal's arms up, he tugged the shirt off over his head, flinging it away. "Kneel up," he prompted, then deftly went to work on Joxer's pants. He shoved them down, ignoring the cock bobbling in front of his face. "Siddown."
Bemused, Joxer complied, watching as Strife worked the leather off his legs, muttering under his breath when he realized Joxer's boots were still in the way. A few seconds later, the boots were tossed aside, followed quickly by the pants.
Strife sat back in satisfaction, eyeing the pale mortal. Joxer sat, legs spread out, skin flushing a delicious shade of pink, cock growing ever harder in anticipation. Strife licked his lips.
Joxer stared breathless as Strife began to strip for him, peeling off clinging bits of shiny black material to reveal his own pale form.
When Strife was naked, he dropped to his hands and knees, crawling over to Joxer. Cocking his head, he stopped a few feet away, smirking. There was a flash beside him, and a small container of oil appeared. Looking Joxer in the eye, he dipped a finger into the slippery substance, then reached under himself to work it inside.
Joxer gulped as the hand disappeared, knowing intimately what the lubricated digit was doing. He snaked a hand down to his groin, freezing when Strife bared his teeth with a growl of disapproval.
Eyes narrowed, Strife finished preparing himself, then moved to straddle Joxer. Raising his body up so his slick entrance rubbed over the head of Joxer's cock, he glared at the mortal. "I say you could touch yourself?" He held back a snicker at Joxer's frantic headshake, pulling up when the man tried to press inside him.
Joxer whimpered, encircling the god with his arms and pressing feverish kisses to his face, neck and torso. "Please...pleasepleaseplease!" He sucked in a pink nipple, biting down softly before laving it with his tongue.
Strife groaned in appreciation, and rewarded Joxer by pushing down until his opening was breached. taking in only the swollen head, he began squeezing, gripping the tender flesh tight.
Panting harshly, Joxer quivered as the ring of muscle flexed around him, throwing his head back with a howl as Strife slowly slid down his length. Burning flesh surrounded him, drawing him deeper inside.
Strife jerked Joxer's head forward, capturing his lips in a demanding kiss. As he started moving up and down on the mortal's cock, riding him, he thrust his tongue into the moist cavern of Joxer's mouth. He moved faster, pulling his head away and leaning it on Joxer's shoulder. "Love havin' your cock inside me, Jox. Fillin' me up, fuckin' me." He squeezed repeatedly. "An' when ya cum inside me, all hot an' wet, an' I can feel ya for hours after." He nibbled on a dangling earlobe, continuing in a husky tone, "Cum for me Jox, cum in me." he slammed himself down hard, again and again, working to pull Joxer's orgasm from him.
Joxer clutched at Strife's slippery skin, shuddering as the flesh encasing him rippled, milking his cock. As Strife's body welcomed him time and again, he began to shake, his vision becoming blurry while spots of light sparkled in his eyes. With a muted scream, he bucked up into Strife's ass, cumming so hard he nearly blacked out.
When he could once more muster a rational thought, he noticed Strife was still astride him, unmoving, panting as his erection leaked copiously over Joxer's belly. Joxer reached a hand for it, surprised when the other man slapped it away.
Strife remained still until Joxer's limp flesh slid out of him, then raised his head. He smiled at the confusion apparent in the mortal's eyes, then kissed his nose quickly. "Ya know what else I love?" His smile grew even wider. "Love ta fuck ya," he whispered, then pushed Joxer onto his back.
Even though he was exhausted, Joxer spread his legs willingly, never even thinking about refusing his lover. He hummed happily as Strife slithered down his body, wincing slightly when the god paused to lap as his sensitive cock.
Strife nuzzled the softened penis briefly, tenderly kissing the lightly furry balls underneath. Nudging them out of the way with his nose, he licked at the patch of skin he uncovered, loving the breathy groans that Joxer produced in response.
Sliding his hands under Joxer's thighs, he pushed them up, spreading Joxer and opening him wide. He blew on the winking pucker that was revealed, darting his tongue out for a taste. He laved the clenching muscle thoroughly, then pressed his tongue inside, quickly withdrawing it at Joxer's cry.
Grinning, Strife sat up, draping Joxer's legs around his waist and cupping the mounds of his ass, pulling him up onto his lap. Conjuring the pot of oil closer, he dipped in a finger, then brought it to Joxer's hole. "Want it?" he asked teasingly.
Joxer lay, shoulders cushioned on soft grass and ass propped on Strife's lap, watching as the god's finger hovered over him. He nodded, eyes glowing, then sighed when he felt the finger push into him, sliding easily into his depths. His eyes drifted shut as he concentrated on the movement inside him.
Strife nearly drooled with lust as he watched Joxer's body open for him, accepting him. He oiled up a couple more fingers, working them past the spasming ring to tickle inside Joxer. He wiggled them around until they brushed against a spongy knob, making the mortal's entire body jerk. Grinning, he flickered over that spot relentlessly, relishing Joxer's weak moans and pleas. He watched triumphantly as lax flesh rose slowly, until he could see that the purpled cock was fairly throbbing with need.
He pulled his fingers out, ignoring Joxer's cry of protest. Shifting slightly, he placed his own leaking erection against the loosened ring, smoothly sliding into the slick heat of Joxer's ass. Strife then leaned over the mortal, pinning his hands to the ground. "Now, ya just lie there an'...take it like a man." Then he pulled out and slammed back inside, angling his thrust so he raked over the sensitive nub.
Joxer screamed, his body lurching up as his legs tightened around Strife's waist. Sobbing, he tried to free his hands, wanting to drag his lover closer, but the god easily restrained him. Instead, he was forced to lay there as Strife stroked in and out, varying speed and force, hoping his lover wouldn't decide to torture him so deliciously for too long before allowing him release. His cock drooled profusely, begging for the slightest of touches, but Strife was careful to avoid contact.
Strife played Joxer's willing body, sometimes moving so slowly and tenderly that a single stroke took him a full minute to accomplish, and other times, pounding in so hard and fast that his hips were almost a blur. And Joxer had no choice but to take it, his body completely under the god's control.
Never once did strife tough Joxer's erection, knowing that a single touch would prove too much for the man. As it was, he angled his thrusts so almost every one passed over the tender nub of flesh inside, each time dragging a hoarse shout from his trembling lover.
Joxer's entire body felt like it was on fire, lightning jolting up and down his spine as stars burst brightly behind his eyelids. He couldn't move any more, and he lay limp under Strife's erotic assault.
Strife was sweating profusely as his own pent-up desires threatened to overwhelm him, and he watched, dazed, as beads of moisture dripped off him to land on Joxer's damp skin. With a groan, he let go of one of Joxer's hands and pulled the mortal's head off the ground, crushing his lips in a bruising kiss. He thrust in harder, leaning down enough so Joxer's cock rubbed against his smooth belly.
Eyes wide, Joxer arched up at the contact, screaming into Strife's throat while his cock pulsated, sending thick streams of fluid spurting up between them. Then his eyes rolled up in his head, his vision dimming as he blacked out.
Strife continued kissing the unconscious man, slamming into the channel that still spasmed and quivered around him. Then he flung his head back with a wail as he came harder than he could ever remember, pouring himself into the accepting body. Panting, he collapsed onto the still form under him, pressing grateful little kisses to every inch of skin he could reach.
Joxer came back to his senses to find Strife lying atop him, nibbling and sucking at his neck and chest. Wearily, he raised a hand, resting in on the small of Strife's back. Pale blue eyes lifted to stare at him lovingly, glinting with warmth. Laughing weakly, Joxer nuzzled against his face, moving his hand so it stroked over the curves of Strife's ass. "That," he panted, still trying to catch his breath, "was a...wonderful...graduation present."
Strife's brow wrinkled as he stared at the man blankly. Then his body shook as he giggled softly. Kissing Joxer's cheek, he explained, "Silly. That wasn't your present. Ya can have that any time." he leered. "Really. I mean that."
"Oh." Well, not to complain then, but what's my present?"
Reluctantly, Strife pulled away from his lover, dragging them both into sitting positions. There was a flash, and a neatly wrapped package appeared. Strife handed it to Joxer, who opened it with shaking fingers.
He gasped at the gorgeous, multicolored and sparkling quill, then at the fine piece of parchment which he touched reverently. He raised astounded eyes to gape at Strife.
Strife flashed him a happy grin. "They're special, see? The quill, it don't need ink to write, an' it'll only work on that parchment. The parchment is really cool." He reached out to stroke the gleaming white surface. "The only thing that'll make any marks on it is that quill so it won't get dirty, an' when ya get finished with one page, it automatically turns into a new page, an' all the old ones get stored in a secret place to only you an' me can get to. And, both of 'em can only ever be used by you," he finished triumphantly.
Awed, Joxer touched the quill to the snowy surface, gasping when it left behind a trail of glittering blue. "They're...gods, Strife! They're beautiful!" He smiled delightedly, squiggling random lines with the quill and staring at the luminous marks left behind.
Strife ducked his head bashfully. "I made 'em jus' for ya. Thought ya'd like 'em."
Joxer set his present aside, pulling Strife into a hug. "I love them. I have to admit something, though."
Strife frowned. "What?"
"I really, really loved your first present."
Smirking now, Strife peered up at Joxer. "Yeah?"
"Uh-huh." Joxer gave him a quick kiss. "And I want you to promise me something. Later, when I don't feel like I'm about to fall over dead from over-exertion, I want you to give me that present again."
Strife kissed back, sealing the bargain. "Deal."
"Just one thing. I get to unwrap this time."
Strife tilted his head as if considering, then beamed happily. "I can live with that."
End this style
Richie/Methos Style
Richie leafed through his mail, brow wrinkled. "Bill, bill, junk, bank statement, junk, magazine...” He paused as he came upon a large, stiff envelope. He looked at the return address, noting that it was from the university he had attended. His eyes widened, and he sat down quickly. The rest of the mail fluttered to the floor as he stared fixedly at the letter.
Gulping, he opened the seal, pulling out the contents with trembling fingers. Face flushed with barely suppressed delight, he grinned hugely as he looked at the bold writing. Being careful not to crease the paper, he pushed it back into the envelope, then jumped up. In a rush, he grabbed his coat and sword, then hurried out the door.
Envelope tucked snugly against his chest, Richie sped down the streets on his motorcycle, breaking quite a few traffic laws in his haste. After a frighteningly short amount of time, he screeched to a halt in front of an apartment complex, where he parked his bike and ran up the stairs.
Finding the right door, he knocked on it repeatedly, waiting impatiently for an answer. The buzz he'd felt as he drew close informed him that there was an immortal in residence, but he lightly fingered the hilt of his sword, just in case it wasn't the right one.
The door was pulled open a crack, and a sleepy eye stared out at him. "Richie? What are you doing here at this ungodly hour in the morning?" There was a faint rattling as Methos set down his sword.
"It's after noon, Adam. Let me in."
Methos sighed, then moved away from the door. "I need something to drink. What brings you here, anyway?"
Richie strode inside, closing the door behind him. He was fairly radiating with ill-hidden joy, and he sprawled out on Methos' sofa, leg bouncing nervously on the floor. "Mac's out of the country, Joe's place is all the way across town, and I had to show someone!"
Methos returned from the kitchen, bottle of beer in hand. "Show someone what?" He leered at the slender form reclining on his sofa. "Or do I need to ask?"
"Not that!" Richie paused. "Well, yes that, but not now. Look!" He pulled out the large envelope, waving it at Methos.
Methos watched the rapidly moving object for a moment, then snatched it out of Richie's hand. "Let's see it, brat." He pulled out the papers, glancing briefly over the enclosed transcript. "Mm-hmm. Not bad," he muttered as he perused the listing of grades. Then he reached the diploma itself, and Richie fairly bounded up to stand beside him, hovering protectively as he watched the ancient immortal touch the pristine document.
"I did it," he breathed. "I really, truly did it."
"Well, congratulations. I'm sure this is just the first of many you'll eventually earn." He chuckled wryly at the grimace that passed over the young immortal's face.
Shuddering, Richie retorted, "Don't even go there, old man. At this point, I firmly believe that school is a bad, evil thing. Give me a few decades to repress the traumatic experience that college was, and I might give it another go." Then he reached out and tenderly reclaimed the all-important diploma. "Still...pretty cool, huh?"
"Definitely...cool." Methos smiled at the excitement gleaming in Richie's eyes. Softly, he plucked away the papers, restoring them safely to their envelope, which he dropped on the coffee table. "I do believe this calls for a celebration."
Richie frowned. "I don't know if I like the sound of that. Your 'celebrations' generally involve us hitting practically every bar within a 20-mile radius, and end up with me broke, and you drunk." He backed away warily.
"Wrong kind of celebration." He stalked after the young man, grinning lecherously. "This kind involves both of us getting naked as quickly as possible, and will end up with you being fucked through my mattress."
Richie blinked. "Oh." A second later, he pulled off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. "Why didn't you say so in the first place? I can totally handle that kind of celebrating." He stripped quickly, then stared impatiently at his sometime-lover, who was still very much overdressed for the occasion. "Well?" he prompted.
Methos eyed the young man's trim body, paying special attention to the column of flesh growing between his legs. He felt his own cock swell in response, and hurriedly skimmed out of his clothes. "If you want to be at all comfortable," he advised, "I suggest you move your arse into the bedroom now. I know how you just hate getting rug burn."
Richie swallowed a groan, remembering several incidents when they'd been unable to hold off until they'd reached a bed, or a chair, or something. Those times invariably resulted in one or the other of them acquiring friction burns in some rather delicate places. That in mind, Richie turned and fled into the bedroom.
Watching him go, Methos grinned even wider, appreciating the view as he was treated to the always-delightful sight of the other immortal's round, flexing ass. He was quick to follow after, and once inside the dim room, he made his move, tackling the young man to the bed.
Squirming under the other man's weight, Richie managed to wiggle onto his back. He grinned up at the older immortal, then, with a sudden lunge, twisted them around on the bed so Methos was underneath him. He bent down to brush noses, then dropped a quick kiss on moist lips. "I want you to suck me, Methos." Then he knelt up, moving forward until his knees rested on either side of the other man's head.
Methos quirked an eyebrow as a hard cock loomed closer, leaking onto his chin. Grasping Richie's firm buttocks, he pulled the young immortal close, opening his mouth and taking in his entire length. Working his throat and jaw, he suckled and licked, occasionally biting down gently, doing his best to make Richie cum as quickly as possible.
Richie groaned, thrusting into that wonderful mouth, seeing those heavenly lips stretched tight around him. Then a finger circled his hole, pushing inside suddenly. He quivered and shook, closing his eyes as he felt himself pulsing deep into his lover's throat.
Knowing this first orgasm wouldn't hold Richie back for long, considering his always-raging hormones, he used the brief moment of exhaustion to one more reverse their positions. Reaching for his nightstand and the lube inside it, he coaxed Richie onto his hands and knees, then moved in behind him. Working quickly, he stretched his young lover, generous applying the slick substance to his opening. Tossing the tube aside, he gabbed Richie's hips and pushed himself inside.
Richie gasped as he was filled, arching his back to take Methos' cock even deeper. Then began the smooth in and out glide, which quickly escalated into a fierce pounding. He body shuddered with every thrust, and as his prostate was repeatedly grazed by the advancing cock, Riche felt his own erection throb back into fullness. He tried to reach back to stroke himself, but the force of Methos' fucking required him to use both hands just to balance himself. "Methossss. Pleeeeease," he whimpered as his lover continued to ram into him.
Hissing, Methos covered Richie's sweaty back with his body, slipping an arm around his waist. His fingers wandered down to brush against hard flesh, and Richie jerked at the contact, crying out in relief.
As it turned out, his relief was short lived. Richie nearly sobbed with frustration when the hand, instead of providing relief for his aching cock, circled the base of his penis and squeezed with just enough force to drive him crazy, knowing he would be unable to cum until Methos let go.
Hand locked in place to prevent Richie from achieving orgasm, Methos kept up his furious pace, slamming himself into his lover's flushed and trembling body. Eventually, the pace began to tire him, and he slowed. Coming to a stop, he maneuvered Richie to lay on his side, spooning behind him, never removing the constricting band of his fingers.
Desperate, Richie's hands went directly for his cock, but Methos' hand tightened warningly around him, and teeth dug into his shoulder. "Methos," he gasped out, panting, "I have to...please...let me..."
With his free hand, Methos stroked Richie's chest soothingly. "Shhh. Calm down. Let me take care of you." Licking the spot he'd bitten, Methos remained otherwise still until he felt Richie relax some, pulled back from the brink he'd been so dangerously close to. Then, he began rocking softly, kissing and licking the back of Richie's neck.
Moaning as Methos' cock once more began to move inside his tender passage, Richie pressed himself back, wanting more. His lover obliged, and the young man raised a leg and wrapped it back around him, encouraging him.
With a wicked smirk, Methos managed to stroke along the length of Richie's cock while still keeping it firmly in his control. His lover's breathy sobs and tortured pleas merely served to spur him on further, and his other hand pulled and twisted at pert nipples, tightening them into hard little nubs.
Richie couldn't figure out how Methos managed it. Every time he tried to touch himself, there was a hand there to knock his away. Grunting as the thrusting gained a bit more force, Richie twisted his hands in the covers, almost ripping the sheets. Shamelessly, he screwed his hips down onto the cock inside him, and he heard Methos let out a soft curse.
Methos took a moment to pull himself together, then whispered into Richie's ear, "I'm going to let you cum now. And then I'm going to keep my promise and fuck you through my mattress." Biting down on the earlobe, he loosened his grip on the other man's erection, sliding his hand up along the hard flesh, flicking his fingers over the head.
Immediately, Richie went wild, bucking and heaving against his lover. With a shout, he tossed his head back and forth, tensing as he started cumming, spraying all over his chest and Methos' hand.
Jaw clenched, Methos rode out the rippling spasms of Richie's orgasm. His wet hand rubbed circles over the other's belly, smearing the sticky fluid there all over Richie's twitching skin. He listened to the man's heaving breaths, waiting until they calmed somewhat. Pulling out of the clinging channel, he arranged some pillows next to Richie, then lifted the young man onto them, supporting his stomach and raising his ass conveniently.
He ran his hands appreciatively over the curves of Richie's ass, then pulled the cheeks apart, exposing his reddened, glistening opening. He moved in, watching as the head of his cock was slowly swallowed by the tight ring of muscle, which squeezed around him as he pressed in fully. He began pumping once again, knowing nothing but the scorching slickness that surrounded him.
Whimpering as Methos again started fucking his well-used hole, Richie shuddered, feeling each stroke rake over his swollen prostate. It seemed like hours since Methos had first started fucking him, and he couldn't believe the old man's stamina; here he was exhausted, and Methos just kept going! Unbelievably, he felt his cock twitch with interest, slowly filling to semi-hardness.
Methos thrust harder and faster, knowing that he wouldn't be able to go on much longer. The tight, rippling sheath of Richie's body was too much, and frankly, he was amazed he'd managed to hold off even this long. He could just barely hear a soft, drawn-out cry each time he pushed into Richie, and knew his lover would be extremely sore from their exertions. Even with immortal healing, Richie would not soon forget this session.
Dazed, Richie listened to his lover's quiet panting, felt the hot breath bathe his neck. He squeezed his ass, feeling an odd twinge of discomfort mixed with a burst of heady pleasure. He wouldn't be at all surprised to find that he really had been fucked through the bed. Hands ran up along his sides, snaking under him and pressing against his chest. Gasping loudly, Richie felt himself cum again, not quite so intense, but still making him shake in unbearable ecstasy.
The muscles milking him drew out Methos' own orgasm, and with a triumphant howl, he forced himself completely inside Richie, cumming in strong jets, filling his lover with his essence. Panting, he let himself fall onto the other man's back, and they both lay unmoving, their harsh breath loud in the still room.
Richie lay, blissed out, aching, trembling, tired, and...squished. He groaned loudly, shrugging his shoulder to encourage Methos to move. After repeated tries, the old immortal took the hint, heaving himself to the side. Richie gulped in some badly needed air, then forced hiss head to turn so he could look at Methos. His eyes sparkled, and he gave a weak grin. "Wow," he whispered.
Methos nodded. "I'll second that." A few more minutes of silence, then Methos lifted an arm and draped it over Richie's back. "Come on, sleep now."
Richie's eyes fluttered shut, and he relaxed as he felt himself slipping into welcoming slumber.
Methos listened to the young man's breath grow deep and even. "Congratulations, Brat," he murmured, then smiled and closed his eyes.
End this style
Finit
So??? Let me know what you think!
