Inspired by corset crackfic
Nov. 18th, 2018 01:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lonesparkVirrow PWP inspired by this:
I made it an established relationship for ease of boning.
It's a struggle for Harrow to get through the rest of the meeting with any dignity. The vivid dream from his seconds-long nap has left him with a half-mast erection that stubbornly refuses to subside. He tries to avoid looking at Viren, or addressing him, but as usual the High Mage contributes his thoughts frequently into the discussion. As usual his comments are perceptive, if unnecessarily loquacious and occasionally self-aggrandizing. And his voice. Was Viren's voice always this sonorous... this... seductive?
Once the end of the meeting mercifully arrives, King Harrow summons all his calm and requests a private word with the High Mage. Upon entering his chamber he bars the door.
"Are you alright, Your Majesty? You seemed distracted earlier."
"I fell asleep. I had a dream. About you. It was ridiculous! But also... compelling..."
And even though they're standing less than an arm's length apart, he moves closer, inclines his head, and whispers as he recounts the dream. He doesn't look at Viren's face, instead aiming his eyes toward the jewel clasp of the mage's capelet, yet he's still aware of the widened eyes, twisting lips, and slight blush that characterize Viren's reaction to his words. Viren's gaze sweeps downward, then back to Harrow's also-flushed face.
"Compelling... I see..."
Harrow kisses him, heated, rough, gets the clasp undone, disposes of capelet and then belt while maneuvering him toward the bed.
Viren chuckles slightly, muttering "I don't think pink is really my color..."
"Nonsense. Your face is getting pinker by the second and it's a very attractive look." The pink intensifies. During his momentary discombobulation the king whisks out a jar of oil from somewhere.
He pushes Viren forward so that he's bent over the bed, growls into his ear, "I want you. I want to take you hard, as I would have if you'd really..."
Viren opens his pants and Harrow slides them down his legs. They each dip fingers in the oil, Viren beginning to work his cock as Harrow reaches for his hole and slides in one, then two fingers. Viren yelps softly from the swiftness of the intrusion and coolness of the oil, but pushes back on the fingers in a most encouraging manner.
Harrow drops his own pants, taking his cock in his other hand, coating it with oil and rubbing it against the cheeks of Viren's ass while continuing to work his fingers in and out. Soon Viren murmurs, "Ready," and Harrow pushes into him. He has to push the long tails of Viren's coat out of the way to get a good look at what he's doing. Split to each side they frame the marvelous tableau of Viren's pale cheeks and taut thighs, slicked with oil and glowing pink from from every squeeze of his hands.
Harrow keeps groping him with oiled hands, the curve of each cheek, the small of his back, then grips his hips and fucks him hard. Viren moans with every stroke, and Harrow both loves the sound and wonders how he'll ever endure another meeting.
After a few moments he slows to recover his breath and share a thought.
"I would like to try living out the dream sometime."
Viren laughs, which feels strange but good, and says, "You know my preference regarding the... color scheme. Both the throne and the meeting table could be valuable assets for such a plan. And of course I would do anything for your esteemed inimitable majesty."
There's nothing the king can do in response to such admirable loyalty and enthusiasm but thrust into him, harder with each stroke, grinding deeper every time, until they both lose the ability to think of other things, and then to think at all.
Harrow pulls him farther onto the bed and crawls beside him, and it's only much later that Viren confronts the challenge of cleaning his clothes with consternation and a recollected surge of heat.
"Viren, you shouldn't say you'd do anything I ask without hearing what it is first."
"Harrow, If I don't say it will still be true. I will do anything you want. You only need to ask."
"That is such a temptation. You are so tempting. Beguiling. Captivating. I am so captivated." He pets Viren's hair and the side of his face and everything is sticky-slick-sweaty-warm-perfect.
A while later Viren says, "Maybe I should arrange to reward you if you do better at paying attention in boring meetings."
"Reward me? With... this? You? How is that going to help me pay attention to the meeting?"
"Well, I'm hoping it will at least help you stay awake!"
I made it an established relationship for ease of boning.
It's a struggle for Harrow to get through the rest of the meeting with any dignity. The vivid dream from his seconds-long nap has left him with a half-mast erection that stubbornly refuses to subside. He tries to avoid looking at Viren, or addressing him, but as usual the High Mage contributes his thoughts frequently into the discussion. As usual his comments are perceptive, if unnecessarily loquacious and occasionally self-aggrandizing. And his voice. Was Viren's voice always this sonorous... this... seductive?
Once the end of the meeting mercifully arrives, King Harrow summons all his calm and requests a private word with the High Mage. Upon entering his chamber he bars the door.
"Are you alright, Your Majesty? You seemed distracted earlier."
"I fell asleep. I had a dream. About you. It was ridiculous! But also... compelling..."
And even though they're standing less than an arm's length apart, he moves closer, inclines his head, and whispers as he recounts the dream. He doesn't look at Viren's face, instead aiming his eyes toward the jewel clasp of the mage's capelet, yet he's still aware of the widened eyes, twisting lips, and slight blush that characterize Viren's reaction to his words. Viren's gaze sweeps downward, then back to Harrow's also-flushed face.
"Compelling... I see..."
Harrow kisses him, heated, rough, gets the clasp undone, disposes of capelet and then belt while maneuvering him toward the bed.
Viren chuckles slightly, muttering "I don't think pink is really my color..."
"Nonsense. Your face is getting pinker by the second and it's a very attractive look." The pink intensifies. During his momentary discombobulation the king whisks out a jar of oil from somewhere.
He pushes Viren forward so that he's bent over the bed, growls into his ear, "I want you. I want to take you hard, as I would have if you'd really..."
Viren opens his pants and Harrow slides them down his legs. They each dip fingers in the oil, Viren beginning to work his cock as Harrow reaches for his hole and slides in one, then two fingers. Viren yelps softly from the swiftness of the intrusion and coolness of the oil, but pushes back on the fingers in a most encouraging manner.
Harrow drops his own pants, taking his cock in his other hand, coating it with oil and rubbing it against the cheeks of Viren's ass while continuing to work his fingers in and out. Soon Viren murmurs, "Ready," and Harrow pushes into him. He has to push the long tails of Viren's coat out of the way to get a good look at what he's doing. Split to each side they frame the marvelous tableau of Viren's pale cheeks and taut thighs, slicked with oil and glowing pink from from every squeeze of his hands.
Harrow keeps groping him with oiled hands, the curve of each cheek, the small of his back, then grips his hips and fucks him hard. Viren moans with every stroke, and Harrow both loves the sound and wonders how he'll ever endure another meeting.
After a few moments he slows to recover his breath and share a thought.
"I would like to try living out the dream sometime."
Viren laughs, which feels strange but good, and says, "You know my preference regarding the... color scheme. Both the throne and the meeting table could be valuable assets for such a plan. And of course I would do anything for your esteemed inimitable majesty."
There's nothing the king can do in response to such admirable loyalty and enthusiasm but thrust into him, harder with each stroke, grinding deeper every time, until they both lose the ability to think of other things, and then to think at all.
Harrow pulls him farther onto the bed and crawls beside him, and it's only much later that Viren confronts the challenge of cleaning his clothes with consternation and a recollected surge of heat.
"Viren, you shouldn't say you'd do anything I ask without hearing what it is first."
"Harrow, If I don't say it will still be true. I will do anything you want. You only need to ask."
"That is such a temptation. You are so tempting. Beguiling. Captivating. I am so captivated." He pets Viren's hair and the side of his face and everything is sticky-slick-sweaty-warm-perfect.
A while later Viren says, "Maybe I should arrange to reward you if you do better at paying attention in boring meetings."
"Reward me? With... this? You? How is that going to help me pay attention to the meeting?"
"Well, I'm hoping it will at least help you stay awake!"
