[He usually doesn't and it would lose its effect eventually.]
[But right now, his name is New. Giving permission to a few dear to his heart, evidence of it. Essentially an emotional gut punch. One that leaves him warm and fuzzy and wanting.]
[He whines, hips jerking away then snapping back, hands gripping his hips, face buried against his neck, as he starts a pace, shallow, but not slow either. Feeling a few ridges pop in and out, catching in a delicious way at Hurricane's tight hole.]
[He groans, at that - cants his hips back into it, breath stuttering out of him]
J-jesus. That feels so -
[Good, apparently - good enough for him to lose the rest of the sentence midway, focusing instead on chasing the sensation and rocking back into the thrusts]
[He kisses and nibbles along the back of his neck, sloppy and breathy as moans build in his throat. His hands trail up along his stomach, helping pull him back as he rocks into him, pulling out a little more each time before snapping back inside, pressing in all the way.]
Gods, you feel so good...so tight and eager. Such a pretty, wonderful body....
[His back arches, as Hiccup pulls out further, this time - as he presses back in. Then he's doing it again, and Hurricane curses, breathless, hands white-knuckled on the back of the chair]
[Another whine, a surge of heat and want and affection as his hips snap forward hard, the pace a little faster as he rocks into him, pulling out almost completely before sliding in, easy and smooth at first and then rougher at the thicker base]
Fuck, you sound good, feel so good. S-so tight around my cock. I can feel every ridge moving into you, like your body was made to be used like this- [He shifts his hold, moves the fabric of the dress so it will sway over his cock.] Love this dress, made it so easy to be in you-
[His breath hitches as the fabric starts to move, that barely-there brush of cloth in combination with the hard, fast thrusts. He tries to stifle a whine - doesn't quite succeed, hips working to press him back against Rye]
[His face is flushed dark from listening to what Rye's saying; he ducks his head, and bites down on his lip, and just breathes for a second or two]
Not gonna jerk you off. Want you in my throat and the more desperate you are then...I want that. Want you to fuck my mouth as hard as I'm going to be fucking you in a minute.
[He bunches up the skirt, a loose tie at his waist to keep it swaying over his cock as he thrusts harder and harder, his own ore helping him move despite how the ridges catch.]
[His hands then run up his body, to his arms, grabbing his wrists.] Plus you keep twitching inside when the fabric pushes over you. Gods, your body is amazing, love being in you... [And then he pulls his arms back from the chair and using them as leverage to thrust in hard and fast.]
[Rye has good timing - catches Hurricane's wrists, right as he pulls away from the back of the chair to reach for himself]
[He whimpers, softly - squirms in the hold, biting down hard on his lip]
[The gauzy fabric of the dress falls so that one of the folds catches at the very tip of his cock every time Rye rocks him forward, the sensation ticklish-soft in contrast to the punishing thrusts. It isn't long before he's outright panting for breath, pressing back into each new motion]
[It's his name again, another startled moan as he thrusts in particularly hard once, twice, three times before he slows to the pace he set, whining with each catch of the ridges.]
I know what you want. But your cock....your cock isn't getting any proper attention unless it's inside my body. I want you to fuck my throat desperately. Use it hard and fast like I'm using your body right now. Treat is like a fucktoy that's only job is to be fucked until you get off.
Gods, I'm so hard, but I feel so wet. I'm messing up my pants almost as much as you're wrecking your pretty dress. You'll slide into my cunt so easily....
[He grip tightens, words breathy and rushed, as he pulls him back into a punishing pace, pre leaking inside him as slick trails down his thighs.] You're so pretty like this-
[It isn't clear what he needs, exactly, because the words taper off on a breathy whine]
[Possibly he needs for Rye to go harder, or faster. Possibly he needs to to slide inside him, to see if he's as wet as he says. Possibly he needs to rock into the warm, wet heat of his mouth]
[Possibly he just needs something on his cock, because he tugs at his wrists, urgently. The incessant rubbing of the fabric over the very tip has created a sizeable patch of precome; it drags now, where it catches, the motion slick and wet and still unbearably ticklish-soft]
[His grip doesn't loosen on his wrists, pulling him back to make each thrust hard and deep as he rocks into his body. Causing the body under him to sway and just get rubbed by the soft fabric even more, the only contact his cock is getting.]
Gods, you're so tight. Feel so good around my cock. Gonna cum so hard. Gonna...gonna stuff a toy in you....k-keep you stretched for the vines you're....gonna fuck us with. Gonna drive you insane and then you'll fuck my cunt so hard-
[He adjusts his grip, and each thrust is hard enough to push Hurricane up to his toes.] Gonna-soon. Can't last in y-you-
[His breath leaves him in a rush with every forward thrust; he rocks back with as much leverage as he has available, which frankly isn't a lot]
More... God, please. I need - H-Hiccup -
[He tugs at his arms again, a little more urgently this time. The soft tickle of fabric over the head of his cock combined with the hard, steady thrusts has him drawn up tight and trembling, cock curved hard and and dripping up toward his stomach]
Gods, Hurricane- [His name gets a particularly hard thrust again, but this time the thrusts keep being hard, the slap of skin on skin loud in the room, his grip tight on his hands as he forces him to rock on his feet.]
[The brutal pace doesn't last. Not while he's inside Hurricane and soon there is heat, a jerkiness to his thrusts, as he moans loud, a breathless gasp of Hurricane, as he finally cums, cock throbbing, and much like the year before, more then normal, hips working in and out still to ride it out.]
[He groans, long as low, as Rye finishes - presses back into him, hips still rocking into the thrusts. It's a lot easier to tell how much there is, this time, with it all inside him, and he squirms, unused to the sensation - bites down on his lip]
[Beneath the gauzy fabric, his own cock gives a long twitch, a new trickle of precome escaping to add to the growing wet spot]
[his hips slow as his climax winds down, soft moans and whimpers leaving him. He squirms a bit, feeling how wet his thighs are now.] You'll skip in so easy....
But now....I let go of your hands and don't immediately suck you off...you'll just touch yourself, huh? [He licks his lips.] Well, can't have that....step forward.
[Which is when he steps towards the bed, still holding Hurricane's hands. Still buried inside him.]
Thought - thought we were gonna go straight to your mouth...?
[But he moves when guided - takes that step toward the bed along with Rye, shuddering harder still at the unusual sensation of walking while being filled]
[His breath catches, as they take another step; he has to bite down on his lip, fighting the impulse to rock back into Rye or forward into the barely-there brush of the fabric]
[He whimpers, softly, as the steps don't slow - as Rye presses him back toward the bed, every motion shifting his cock inside him. They're almost to the bed, when one of the ridges happens to catch against that spot inside him that makes him see stars, and Hurricane whimpers softly, mouth falling open on a soundless gasp]
G-god. That's...
[Beneath the dress, his cock gives a hard twitch, a new dribble of precome damping the gauzy fabric]
[Every step is a shift of tightness around his cock, catching inside Hurricane in strange, but exciting ways with the ridges. Especially when it makes Hurricane whimper and squirm like that. It might be a move for later, with the petplay.]
Hmm, I know you do. [He pulls him up enough to whisper in his ear.] You're a perfect little fucktoy, after all. Eager to be filled and fucked over and over until you're as messy as when we use a Fleshlight in our play.
But....today we won't be doing that. I'm more interested in treating your cock like my plaything. [He shifts his hands together. Holding them with one hand as he opens his bedside drawer.. coxk still shifting inside him as he feels through the contents.]
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Jesus - Hiccup -
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Hurricane....keep saying it like that. Please.
[He pulls back halfway before snapping back in with a groan.]
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Hiccup...?
[It's breathy and a little strained, as Rye presses into him again]
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[But right now, his name is New. Giving permission to a few dear to his heart, evidence of it. Essentially an emotional gut punch. One that leaves him warm and fuzzy and wanting.]
[He whines, hips jerking away then snapping back, hands gripping his hips, face buried against his neck, as he starts a pace, shallow, but not slow either. Feeling a few ridges pop in and out, catching in a delicious way at Hurricane's tight hole.]
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J-jesus. That feels so -
[Good, apparently - good enough for him to lose the rest of the sentence midway, focusing instead on chasing the sensation and rocking back into the thrusts]
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Gods, you feel so good...so tight and eager. Such a pretty, wonderful body....
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[His back arches, as Hiccup pulls out further, this time - as he presses back in. Then he's doing it again, and Hurricane curses, breathless, hands white-knuckled on the back of the chair]
Hiccup - please -
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Fuck, you sound good, feel so good. S-so tight around my cock. I can feel every ridge moving into you, like your body was made to be used like this- [He shifts his hold, moves the fabric of the dress so it will sway over his cock.] Love this dress, made it so easy to be in you-
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[His face is flushed dark from listening to what Rye's saying; he ducks his head, and bites down on his lip, and just breathes for a second or two]
God, that's - please. I need - m-more -
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[He bunches up the skirt, a loose tie at his waist to keep it swaying over his cock as he thrusts harder and harder, his own ore helping him move despite how the ridges catch.]
[His hands then run up his body, to his arms, grabbing his wrists.] Plus you keep twitching inside when the fabric pushes over you. Gods, your body is amazing, love being in you... [And then he pulls his arms back from the chair and using them as leverage to thrust in hard and fast.]
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[He whimpers, softly - squirms in the hold, biting down hard on his lip]
[The gauzy fabric of the dress falls so that one of the folds catches at the very tip of his cock every time Rye rocks him forward, the sensation ticklish-soft in contrast to the punishing thrusts. It isn't long before he's outright panting for breath, pressing back into each new motion]
Hiccup - please -
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I know what you want. But your cock....your cock isn't getting any proper attention unless it's inside my body. I want you to fuck my throat desperately. Use it hard and fast like I'm using your body right now. Treat is like a fucktoy that's only job is to be fucked until you get off.
Gods, I'm so hard, but I feel so wet. I'm messing up my pants almost as much as you're wrecking your pretty dress. You'll slide into my cunt so easily....
[He grip tightens, words breathy and rushed, as he pulls him back into a punishing pace, pre leaking inside him as slick trails down his thighs.] You're so pretty like this-
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[It isn't clear what he needs, exactly, because the words taper off on a breathy whine]
[Possibly he needs for Rye to go harder, or faster. Possibly he needs to to slide inside him, to see if he's as wet as he says. Possibly he needs to rock into the warm, wet heat of his mouth]
[Possibly he just needs something on his cock, because he tugs at his wrists, urgently. The incessant rubbing of the fabric over the very tip has created a sizeable patch of precome; it drags now, where it catches, the motion slick and wet and still unbearably ticklish-soft]
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Gods, you're so tight. Feel so good around my cock. Gonna cum so hard. Gonna...gonna stuff a toy in you....k-keep you stretched for the vines you're....gonna fuck us with. Gonna drive you insane and then you'll fuck my cunt so hard-
[He adjusts his grip, and each thrust is hard enough to push Hurricane up to his toes.] Gonna-soon. Can't last in y-you-
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More... God, please. I need - H-Hiccup -
[He tugs at his arms again, a little more urgently this time. The soft tickle of fabric over the head of his cock combined with the hard, steady thrusts has him drawn up tight and trembling, cock curved hard and and dripping up toward his stomach]
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[The brutal pace doesn't last. Not while he's inside Hurricane and soon there is heat, a jerkiness to his thrusts, as he moans loud, a breathless gasp of Hurricane, as he finally cums, cock throbbing, and much like the year before, more then normal, hips working in and out still to ride it out.]
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[Beneath the gauzy fabric, his own cock gives a long twitch, a new trickle of precome escaping to add to the growing wet spot]
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But now....I let go of your hands and don't immediately suck you off...you'll just touch yourself, huh? [He licks his lips.] Well, can't have that....step forward.
[Which is when he steps towards the bed, still holding Hurricane's hands. Still buried inside him.]
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Thought - thought we were gonna go straight to your mouth...?
[But he moves when guided - takes that step toward the bed along with Rye, shuddering harder still at the unusual sensation of walking while being filled]
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And then you'd cum and I'd have to wait for you to take my mouth and you won't be near as desperate as you fuck my throat.
[He keeps moving them forward, holding Hurricane's arms, ridged cock still buried inside him, shifting with each move and pulling a hiss from him.]
Plus...maybe I just want to keep you like this a minute longer. Bet it feels good, walking with a cock inside you. Doesn't it~?
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[His breath catches, as they take another step; he has to bite down on his lip, fighting the impulse to rock back into Rye or forward into the barely-there brush of the fabric]
Kinda - r-rubs, when you move.
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[He pushes him forward, step by step to the bed.] And you look good, speared on my cock. The pretty green dress. The perfect little cock warmer.
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G-god. That's...
[Beneath the dress, his cock gives a hard twitch, a new dribble of precome damping the gauzy fabric]
I wanna do more than just - just warm it.
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Hmm, I know you do. [He pulls him up enough to whisper in his ear.] You're a perfect little fucktoy, after all. Eager to be filled and fucked over and over until you're as messy as when we use a Fleshlight in our play.
But....today we won't be doing that. I'm more interested in treating your cock like my plaything. [He shifts his hands together. Holding them with one hand as he opens his bedside drawer.. coxk still shifting inside him as he feels through the contents.]
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