this prompt is SO big brained. i'm sorry for the delay i wanted to serve this way sooner. note: the word 'cunt' is used to refer to genitals
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Peter is long limbed and stretched from every one of his corners. And still, he sits on Artemy’s wide bed like he is out of place, trying to find the right way to lie down. He’s been here several nights before, now, and each time he chooses a different side of the bed to sit on, reaching for Artemy’s hands and pulling him in with an act of caution.
He isn’t a very nice man. His motions are polite, but not at all steady; Peter’s hands are wide over Artemy’s bare stomach, feeling the strong muscle and the softer skin around it, all while he fumbles with his pants to undress him quickly. Experience hidden below a deep fog that fills his mind. Artemy can see him admire his cock and the generous outline through his pants. He’d kill to see Peter’s mouth around it.
So he helps him, sliding his hand beneath his waistline, slipping his trousers down just enough that his underwear drags against the underside of his cock in a way that makes Artemy tingle. He grasps himself and strokes slow, and leads Peter forward with a hand on the back of his head. Peter looks up and gives himself up, mouth slack, parting with no restraint or resistance. It’s heavenly, just dragging the head of his cock on Peter’s tongue.
“There you go,” Artemy purrs, stroking his hair. Peter leans forward to take his cock into his mouth, leading with his tongue. Peter’s mouth is warm, with his slack jaw and the hum in the back of his throat. Artemy wants to kneel on his bed and lean forward, help Peter on to his back and take him a little further. Wants to see how his eyes brighten while keeping their lidded, sleepy look.
Peter’s hand moves to the underside of Artemy’s cock, stroking him with his thumb. He brings his hand up and pulls on the skin, gentle and calm, to drag his tongue over the slit and head. Artemy feels the rush of weakness inside him, shooting down into his legs. In response, he runs his fingers back through Peter’s hair again and gathers it up, pulled behind his ears and held in one broad hand. Artemy guides him farther down his cock, his other hand finding Peter’s cheek to touch. He does not pull Peter with grace or patience but is met with such in return, as Peter’s throat takes him, slowly.
With his hair out of his eyes, Peter looks up. He’s hunched forward to angle himself properly for Artemy, but he still angles his head back as much as his neck can allow him. He wants to keep that kind of look on him.
But - Artemy pulls Peter’s mouth from his cock, kneels forward on his mattress, and guides Peter to his back. Peter understands and lays his arms up above his head, hair and head still gathered in Artemy’s hands, lips ajar. He looks tired and languid and still watches him with maintained experience, welcoming Artemy back into his throat when he kneels over his chest and guides his cock back into Peter’s waiting mouth.
It’s very warm. The angle is so much better. Artemy has to hold himself back from just sinking to the root, testing if Peter could take him so quickly. He keeps Peter’s head supported with one of his hands, the other resting above in the bed to keep Artemy held up. Peter moves his head as best he can, servicing Artemy with his tongue more insistently. He hums; he breathes audibly. It feels good.
Artemy says something, but it is idle praise. He tests Peter’s limit and angles his hips down, welcoming Peter against his stomach, mouth to hilt. The sound that comes from Peter’s throat is divine, something like gagging that soon becomes an invigorated gasp for air. Peter looks up at him, hungry. He gives Artemy a pinch on his thigh that he recognizes, and with great regret, Artemy pulls his cock from Peter’s throat.
He doesn’t waste time drawing down his body, stepping free from his trousers and joining Peter in complete nudity.. Peter’s hips are easy to lift and slot against his own, moving between his legs to slowly press the head of his cock into him. The way Peter holds himself up with his legs wrapped tight around Artemy’s hips gives him the confidence to drag his hand from Peter’s hip to between his legs, pressing his thumb against the skin and spreading him open, wider for his cock. He can see Peter’s eyes roll back in a rare moment of vulnerable surprise, but the tension rolls out of him as Artemy presses farther inside.
Artemy/Peter 1/2
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Peter is long limbed and stretched from every one of his corners. And still, he sits on Artemy’s wide bed like he is out of place, trying to find the right way to lie down. He’s been here several nights before, now, and each time he chooses a different side of the bed to sit on, reaching for Artemy’s hands and pulling him in with an act of caution.
He isn’t a very nice man. His motions are polite, but not at all steady; Peter’s hands are wide over Artemy’s bare stomach, feeling the strong muscle and the softer skin around it, all while he fumbles with his pants to undress him quickly. Experience hidden below a deep fog that fills his mind. Artemy can see him admire his cock and the generous outline through his pants. He’d kill to see Peter’s mouth around it.
So he helps him, sliding his hand beneath his waistline, slipping his trousers down just enough that his underwear drags against the underside of his cock in a way that makes Artemy tingle. He grasps himself and strokes slow, and leads Peter forward with a hand on the back of his head. Peter looks up and gives himself up, mouth slack, parting with no restraint or resistance. It’s heavenly, just dragging the head of his cock on Peter’s tongue.
“There you go,” Artemy purrs, stroking his hair. Peter leans forward to take his cock into his mouth, leading with his tongue. Peter’s mouth is warm, with his slack jaw and the hum in the back of his throat. Artemy wants to kneel on his bed and lean forward, help Peter on to his back and take him a little further. Wants to see how his eyes brighten while keeping their lidded, sleepy look.
Peter’s hand moves to the underside of Artemy’s cock, stroking him with his thumb. He brings his hand up and pulls on the skin, gentle and calm, to drag his tongue over the slit and head. Artemy feels the rush of weakness inside him, shooting down into his legs. In response, he runs his fingers back through Peter’s hair again and gathers it up, pulled behind his ears and held in one broad hand. Artemy guides him farther down his cock, his other hand finding Peter’s cheek to touch. He does not pull Peter with grace or patience but is met with such in return, as Peter’s throat takes him, slowly.
With his hair out of his eyes, Peter looks up. He’s hunched forward to angle himself properly for Artemy, but he still angles his head back as much as his neck can allow him. He wants to keep that kind of look on him.
But - Artemy pulls Peter’s mouth from his cock, kneels forward on his mattress, and guides Peter to his back. Peter understands and lays his arms up above his head, hair and head still gathered in Artemy’s hands, lips ajar. He looks tired and languid and still watches him with maintained experience, welcoming Artemy back into his throat when he kneels over his chest and guides his cock back into Peter’s waiting mouth.
It’s very warm. The angle is so much better. Artemy has to hold himself back from just sinking to the root, testing if Peter could take him so quickly. He keeps Peter’s head supported with one of his hands, the other resting above in the bed to keep Artemy held up. Peter moves his head as best he can, servicing Artemy with his tongue more insistently. He hums; he breathes audibly. It feels good.
Artemy says something, but it is idle praise. He tests Peter’s limit and angles his hips down, welcoming Peter against his stomach, mouth to hilt. The sound that comes from Peter’s throat is divine, something like gagging that soon becomes an invigorated gasp for air. Peter looks up at him, hungry. He gives Artemy a pinch on his thigh that he recognizes, and with great regret, Artemy pulls his cock from Peter’s throat.
He doesn’t waste time drawing down his body, stepping free from his trousers and joining Peter in complete nudity.. Peter’s hips are easy to lift and slot against his own, moving between his legs to slowly press the head of his cock into him. The way Peter holds himself up with his legs wrapped tight around Artemy’s hips gives him the confidence to drag his hand from Peter’s hip to between his legs, pressing his thumb against the skin and spreading him open, wider for his cock. He can see Peter’s eyes roll back in a rare moment of vulnerable surprise, but the tension rolls out of him as Artemy presses farther inside.