(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 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.

[cook_the_rude]

"Sinric!" Hannibal murmurs softly. "Yes, so!"

[thewidewideworld]

He arches helplessly into each thrust, feeling himself clench and leak. He runs frantic hands over Hannibal's skin, grounding himself as his insides light with each thrust.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends his head to deeply kiss Sinric while he keeps thrusting.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric kisses back, greedy and whimpering. "Oh, oh, oh!" He pants, eyes wide and bright.

[cook_the_rude]

"So good?" Hannibal says, with a chuckle, as he keeps thrusting.

[thewidewideworld]

"So- oh! Deep." Sinric moans, gasping for air. He reaches up to catch hold of Hannibal's hands, twisting their fingers together. "I can't- I won't last if you- ah!"

[cook_the_rude]

"That's rather the point," Hannibal says, thrusting straight home.

[thewidewideworld]

"I'll... I'll peak before... too soon." For someone who didn't know he could peak, the idea that he'll peak before Hannibal is almost embarrassing.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal stops moving altogether.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric groans, momentarily caught off guard by the abruptly cessation of pleasure.

He pants, trying to catch his breath as he kisses Hannibal fiercely.

He encourages Hannibal to roll over, moving with him to keep the good doctor deep inside him.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal complies nicely, rolling onto his back and tilting back his head.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric can't resist the curve of Hannibal's exposed neck, leaning in to kiss and nipple it as he settles himself back into just the right spot. He starts to move again, riding Hannibal in slow, wave like rolls of his hips.