(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{from here}

Sinric makes a soft protesting sound. "Am I wicked for not wanting to go inside? For wanting to share myself with you here under the cherry blossoms?" Because I want very much to stay here - to bare my body to you and the sunshine?"

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric breathes a sigh, very much bordering on a moan as Hannibal's kisses brushes his lower stomach. He runs his fingers through Hannibal's hair and over the nape of his neck, breathing his name.

[cook_the_rude]

"Here I am," Hannibal says, looking up at him.

[thewidewideworld]

"That you are." He arches up, flexing his lean legs and letting himself revel in the beauty and pleasure of that moment. "And for that I am very glad."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal pulls at Sinric's trousers, to make his way further southwards.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lifts his hips in encouragement, fingers dancing in Hannibal's hair with little sighs of pleasure.

His little snail is stirring, goosebumps dancing over his skin is anticipation.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal pulls off the trousers in a smooth motion, and then proceeds to kiss the inside of Sinric's thighs.

[thewidewideworld]

The sudden strip of his pants makes him wiggle and laugh, turning into a breathless moan as Hannibal kisses him. He massage Hannibal's scalp, panting joyfully.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal picks up a handful of cherry petals and sprinkles them over Sinric as his is kissing his way upwards.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric laughs brightly, stretching out in a decadent sprawl under Hannibal's touch. "How do I look? Decorated in pink?"

[cook_the_rude]

"The very spirit of hanami," Hannibal says, smiling.

[thewidewideworld]

"Hanami" He breathes, echoing the word with a sigh, arching softly. "Will you ravish me? Please?"

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sits up, and opens his trousers in preparation of the ravishment, smiling at Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric reaches up to sprinkle blossoms in Hannibal's hair, over his skin. Smiling warmly in anticipation of pleasure.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal, naked now and very ready for Sinric, reaches into the picnic basket to find something, anything, that could smmoth his passage.

[thewidewideworld]

There's a bottle of olive oil in amongst his things. He's too busy arching up to kiss Hannibal's neck and collarbone, rubbing his bared ankles over Hannibal's thighs.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal finds it, and pours some into his hand to slick up Sinric.

Avidly, he returns those kisses.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lifts his hips into the touch, a lithe little cat in heat under Hannibal's ministrations. He mews sweetly, lifting one leg higher to wrap around Hannibal's hip.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal slips two oily fingers inside Sinric, then pulls him up to position himself at the oil-smooth entrance.

[thewidewideworld]

"Yes!" He arches up to meet the tip of Hannibal's manhood, welcoming and ready. Eagerly beautiful. "Hannibal, please? I want you."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal looks deep into Sinric's eyes and pushes inside.

[thewidewideworld]

His moan is soft and bright and as warm as the beaming down on them. He holds Hannibal's eyes, smiling up at him in pleasure.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal kisses him deeply, pushing in to the hilt.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric lifts his hips to meet him. His soft moan turns to a high and exultant cry of pleasure as Hannibal's thrust reached his seat of pleasure.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal thrusts again, more shallowly, aiming for that very spot.

[thewidewideworld]

Each thrust drives a joyful cry out of Sinric, pounding him in just the right spot for it to be impossible for him not to feel pleasure.