thewidewideworld | (no subject)

{from here.}

Sinric laughs sweetly as he and Dorian dance towards the stairs. He mounts the first step, now level with Dorian. He smiles warmly and kisses the corner of Dorian's lips, the sort of kiss that both begs and promises.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric raises his eyes to Dorian's, his lips full and red.

Words of praise, older than the Christ god fall from his lips, soft as rain and rich as velvet.

From:

capture_eternity

Dorian finds a vial of oil and lifts it up to shimmer in the lamplight.

From:

thewidewideworld

"Anoint me in your holy oil." Sinric's breath quickens but his voice never falters, the words of his native tongue fluid. "Make me worthy, make me ready for your sacrament. Smooth my sinner's body."

From:

capture_eternity

Dorian unstoppers the vial, dips in a finger and smoothly slides it into Sinric's body, answering the Greek with Latin incantation.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric keeps up the litany of praise, most of the words belonging to gods older than the one whose altar they profane. He flexes, clenching around Dorian's finger as he runs his hand over Dorian's clad form.

From:

capture_eternity

"And now, receive my body," Dorian murmurs, replacing his finger with his stiff, oil-smoothed prick.

From:

thewidewideworld

The way is smooth and easy, and Sinric cries out in joy. Sated from Dorian's easier ministrations but still highly sensitive, his eyes roll as he gives himself over to the feeling.

From:

capture_eternity

Chanting softly, Dorian starts thrusting.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric picks up the words of the chant and answers them in Greek. He returns his hands to the base of the great candle sticks, spread open and sacrificed.

From:

capture_eternity

Even though Sinric has spent once alrady, Dorian cannot resist aiming for the seat of his pleasure; he wants the sacrifice to be worth it.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric jerks, his voice breaking with jolts of pleasure, sharp as spear-points in their thrusts.

From:

capture_eternity

Thrusting true and steady, Dorian runs his hands over Sinric's body in worship, touching nipples, throat, lips...

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric wraps his lean legs around Dorian's waist, holding himself in place as each thrust fills his world with light and pleasure.

He arches into the touch, his large nipples hardening.

From:

capture_eternity

Dorian strokes and rubs and teases with his fingers as he keeps thrusting.

From:

thewidewideworld

His Greek dances with the rhythm of the chant, breathless and moaning. He clenches, feeling pleasure grow in him. "Dorian! Ágios skoúro apoláfseis!"

From:

capture_eternity

Dorian smiles, and keeps on doing it.

From:

thewidewideworld

"My dark saint." He chants in Greek, arcane and beautiful, "My saint of forbidden joys. Of pleasures whispered. Fill me with your mysteries. Let me worship at the altar of your light." His voice breaks in a moan of sheer pleasure.

From:

capture_eternity

Dorian is humming Hallelujahs, from several composers at once, stretching from Handel to Leonard Cohen.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric arches up to run his hands over Dorian's back, pulling him tight and close. "Yes! Oh yes!"

From:

capture_eternity

"In your hands," Dorian murmurs, "I commend my body!"

And he thrusts home strongly a few more times, aiming for their peak.

From:

thewidewideworld

Sinric feels it, feels his body answer and part of him fears as another part rejoices that he might peak again. But it is not to be, not tonight. Which in no way diminished the pleasure he feels with every thrust, with every heretical and joyous moan.