(no subject)

[thewidewideworld]

{From here]

Sinric takes Hannibal's hand and pulls him into the shadows of an alleyway, drawing him into a kiss. The heels give him an advantage he doesn't usually have.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric tries, rather uncoordinated, to pluck at the top closures of the corset, the ones that keep his breasts so tightly confined. He losses the battle as Hannibal's finger pierces him, sending a shock of pleasure through his body.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal crooks his finger and moves it, to loosen Sinric up and intensify his pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric mews and whimpers, clenching and flexing. "Hannibal, yes. Fill me, use me."

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal reaches down to free himself from the constraints of his clothes; then, he takes Sinric's hips in both his hands, holds still, and pushes in.

Just like that.

[thewidewideworld]

The thrust pushes Sinric up, staining to keep himself steady as Hannibal enters. He moans, high and rich, and loud enough that anyone passing will know exactly what's going on in the shadows. His eyes roll as his head falls back to the wall.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans loudly as he slips inside -- yes, no doubt at all what is happening here.

With one hand freed again, he reaches up to fumble open Sinric's corset.

[thewidewideworld]

His breasts fall over the opening, full and high. He takes a gasp of air, no longer quite so winded. He cups the back of Hannibal's head, drawing Hannibal's lips down to his hot skin.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends his neck and licks the generous nipples while he keeps pounding into Sinric.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers warmly, his back banging against the wall with each thrust. Just like this - rough and perfect. He buries his hand in Hannibal's hair, clinging to him tightly. He moan Hannibal's name over and over, breathlessly.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans and pants against Sinric's skin as he thrusts and thrusts, unhurriedly creating and dispersing pleasure with every movement.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whispers words of encouragement in Hannibal's ear - Greek and Latin and Persian, a jumble of untranslated pleas of passion without the Bar's translation field. But Hannibal may recognise a few words, being educated as he is.

Needy, dirty words, egging Hannibal on and begging for more. Encouraging him to take Sinric hard, to use him like a common whore in the alley way, to leave him aching and full.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal moans against Sinric's nipple, "yes, I will!"

He thrusts hard, and his grunts are as delightfully filthy as Sinric's words.

[thewidewideworld]

The dirty words keep flowing, tripping off his tongue as Hannibal's thrusts stroke him deep inside. He hadn't expected to peak himself, just content to enjoy the ride but he can feel the coil tighten.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's hips piston faster as, for once, he lets go and shows his full, considerable strength, putting it to good use.

[thewidewideworld]

The strength honed on breaking bones and overpowering his victims. None of which troubles Sinric at all as the force of those thrusts drive the air from him in shouts of sheer joy.

He doesn't have the breath to scream as his peak comes, unexpectedly and brilliantly sharp.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal, feeling Sinric clench around himself, soon follow suit, shooting heat and strength up into the slight body between his strong hands.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric whimpers with pleasure, shaking in Hannibal's grasp. He smiles and cups Hannibal's cheek, kissing him softly.

[cook_the_rude]

"Sinric," Hannibal murmurs, tightening his grip to hold him steady as he pounds and pounds right there, as long as there is still a shred of pleasure to be wrung out of Sinric's body.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric can do nothing but cling and moan, letting himself feel, overstimulated and breathless. "Hannibal!" He gasps, kissing him desperately.

[cook_the_rude]

A brass band is passing the mouth of the alley at that moment, obscuring the loud obscene noises Hannibal makes as he approaches his climax.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric can't help but laugh, warm and shaking and joyful. The brass band blends gloriously with their own mad pleasure.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal groans and curses, pushing into him in the rhythm of the raucous music.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric cries Hannibal's name, shuddering roughly. He isn't sure how he'll be able to stand after this.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal groans loudly, and then spills his hot seed into Sinric, slamming into unrestrainedly for a few last times.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shakes and whimpers, leaning heavily in Hannibal's strong arms. He pants into Hannibal's neck, mewing kittenishly.