One

joemorgantap:

He gasped and tried not to clench too hard as Rhys fucked into him in reply, opening him around the fat, length of meat, stretching his rim tight and lewd and god it just felt so good. He swore as Rhys’ hand wrapped around his dick, pulling and tugging his dick and he leaked all over his fingers as his husband fucked into him and it was fucking delicious. “You feel so fucking good, god, you’re so big, Rhys. Fuck,” He glanced at Rhys and he knew it was a warning, that smirk meant things were about to happen and he was probably going to melt into wanton, moaning puddle of desire and need. It was then a rapid fire assault on his ass and his insides and his nerves. He cried out, high pitched and full of hot pleasure, his hands grabbing at the ones curled around his hips, holding him still as he panted ‘fuck’ none too quietly at every punching fuck into his hole, sending shivering, electric sparks up his spine, jolting on every drag out. “Jesus Rhys, yes,” he was rambling at this point as his face twisted and he gasped and jerked as he came suddenly over his lovers stomach and he clenched around the fat dick, hard. “I’m not done,” he promised his lover. “Don’t stop, fuck, don’t you dare stop,” He had cum, sure but he wasn’t finished yet. Oh no, not even close.

Rhys moaned as Joe did, whimpered when he felt hands on his own, both grounding him, anchoring him there to the bed, to reality, not letting him dare drift off or away from what was happening then and there. Rhys returned fire with his own slew of whispered swears as Joe moved and as Joe bounced and as Joe writhed. And again as Joe came, shooting hot cum all over his fingers, over his arms, splashes of it on his chest and stomach and even his face and neck. Instinctively, Rhys licked his lips, cleaning whatever bit of Joe had landed there. He tugged his husband’s dick until the drips stopped dripping down and he moved to spreading those cheeks further apart, letting every hot, fat inch of his dick to sink inside uninterrupted. “Here-here. Watch—” Rhys slid out, knowing he’d get a glare but it’d be okay. A few adjustments and Rhys was painting his dick in his husband’s cum, spreading it around from his fist, slapping the head at Joe’s, collecting all the pearly sheen he could and standing full salute, hard and throbbing, red and hot and pounding and veiny, he gave a squeeze and his own precum came drooling out from his tip, oozing a clear, sticky substance down his shaft. “Suck it.” 

(Source: rhys-tap)

One

joemorgantap:

With the echo of having his husband buck, fuck into his throat, open the muscles in his throat, he licked his lips and kept working himself down on the fat shaft. He listened as Rhys swore and hummed and moaned and he panted and keened softly, twitching and clenching and shuddering, his dick now hard and leaking in its usual torrent like fashion. The dick inside him was big and fat and throbbing and twitching and leaking it felt fucking excellent as he filled him up, feeling the tight stretch of his hole as he slid further and further down. “Good,” he gasped softly, nodding his head, eyes glazed and mouth partially slack. “See you don’t,” and he cracked a lopsided grin as big hands curled around his hips, strong fingers dug into his ass, gasping and groaning as Rhys dragged him forward along his fat dick before pushing him back on it, setting the pace and he mewled, curls tossing as he moaned at the ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, Rhys,” he gasped, his fingers curling against his lovers chest, repeating the pull forward and push back, slow and grinding and he leaked against his lovers belly. “You feel so good,” and he keened, starting a faster pace, opening himself up on his Marine’s dick a little more.

Loud moans came spilling from his lips, pilfered away by Joseph. He keened into the movements, fucking himself inside his husband’s tight hole, loving every second of it. The stretch around him was delicious as he canted his hips and felt his balls rub against Joe’s ass. He wrapped his fingers around Joe’s cock, tugging and pulling and stroking his husband in time, fucking and moving all as one. “You look so good with a fat cock up your little ass, Joseph.” Rhys smirked something wicked and in seconds, started slamming his hips upwards, holding Joe still as his cock pulled out and pushed in, sinking every last inch inside, over and over again. His dick slapped against his belly a few times, causing him to grunt and every time he fell away from Joe’s entrance, he pushed himself back inside with more force, stretching him open more. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

One

joemorgantap:

He looked up, and instead of seeing the delighted face of his husband as he rolled and thrashed and moved into the efforts of his mouth and suction and throat, he saw a pillow. Well, that would never do. He reached up as Rhys’ bucked a few times into his mouth, feeding inches down his throat and for the first time in what felt like forever, he had the whole, fat length of Rhys’ dick down his throat. His hand groped blindly and grabbed the pillow, yanking it away and throwing it to the side. Much better. He swallowed hard around the fat dick in his throat, keeping it close and tight in the muscles of his throat for just a moment or two. And then he was pulling off, the dick vacating the space of his throat and he groaned, looking at the strings of pre-cum and thick spit connecting him to his dick. He panted and looked up at Rhys, shimming his way out of his pants. “No hiding,” he said simply, toeing off his shoes and straddling the Marine, one knee on either side of his hips, one hand wrapped around the hard as he pressed down on it, feeling the burning stretch as the head popped into his hole, stretching him wide and he gasped, toes curling and body shuddering as he pressed down in little rolling increments. “This is what you’re meant to do when you’re hard. This is it’s use, okay?”

The pillow was taken and fuck if the sight wasn’t something he wished he’d been watching that entire time. Joe had him all, all of him in the clutches of his throat and he was such a good little slut for this shit, Rhys could hardly stand it. His fingers tightened in the dark locks and he pushed upward, taking whatever hollow bit he could find. “No hiding,” he parroted and kept bucking, fucking himself deeper and deeper into the other man’s throat. And when Joe pulled away, spit and thick, hot precum dripping and webbing them together, he felt himself twitch again, leak some more and then Joe was moving again. The 120-some odd pounds straddled him and lined them up, slid Rhys’ fat dick inside his tight ass and the marine moaned and hummed and swore as Joe’s tight rim slid and clenched around his meat. He swore softly as he took up his lover’s space. “Okay,” he complied. “I wont misuse it again, I’m sorry.” His hands curled around Joe’s hips, fingers dug into his ass muscles to pull him forward and grind him along his dick, and thumbs dug into hip bones, pushing him back to reset the pace. It was lewd and it was filthy but it was them.

(Source: rhys-tap)

One

joemorgantap:

He looked up to catch his husband grinning and he would have liked to grin back, but he was rather happy with the dick in his mouth at the moment and was going to stick with that. And back he fell, like he let go of a breath he was holding and Rhys looked fucking delicious as he groaned at the ceiling, the sound travelling down his spine and pooling in his gut and making him groan softly to himself. He felt the push on his head, coaxing him down and he was already well ahead of that. With every pull back his tongue worked over the flesh and with every push down he took a little more of his lovers fat dick into his mouth and throat. The inches that were still waiting to be fit in were being worked with his hand, twisting as he pumped slowly, just hardening up and wetting him up a little. Because he was going to jump on Rhys and ride him until his brain stop working. But first, he wanted to get a taste. He pulled back for a second, just to suck at the head, to press his tongue to the slit and coax out thick, slick precum and because he was a teasing shit, he ran the tip just up the underside, over the small place that drove Rhys wild.

There was a limit to how much of a wanton tart Rhys would allow himself to look, sound and act like and apparently, the limit was a stretch. His eyes shut and rolled as Joe worked him over with a skilled, excellent mouth. He moaned, loud, lips parted and jaw slacked and he thrashed and rolled and moved into the gentle sucking. It was delicious. “Joe,” he whined and covered his face with one of the large pillows, both muffling his loud whines and moans, and shielding himself from his lover seeing his face contort and change shape as he neared his peak. Rhys could feel the precum being licked and drank, he could feel it as it drooled out of his tip and then Joe’s tongue moved around that spot underneath it all and made him leak out a thicker precum. “Fuck. You’re so—” he said underneath the pillow. Rhys gave a few bucks of his hips, pushing them upward, feeding inches into his husband’s mouth. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

One

joemorgantap:

Kitchen cleaned, next step washing. He gathered up what he could find downstairs and he wandered to the laundry, staring at the pile. Fuck, there was clothes upstairs. “Stay,” he said at the bottom of the stairs to the small pack following him around and they did very well for the most part. Up the stairs and he frowned at the closed bedroom door. Not giving it a second thought, he hipped through the door and threw it open, casting his eyes at the bed. And he stopped. Mid stride. Stopped dead. Oh, well, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where to look first. There he was, the love of his life, the fire of his loins, stretched out on the bed, naked from the waist down, legs spread akimbo, fucking the fat meat of his dick into the circle of his hand. “Fuck,” he said softly, turning and forgetting clothing all together. That could wait. “Hey, I feel like I’m missing out. I think that’s mine to play with, hm?” and he cocked his eyebrow, wandering over to the bed and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. His fingers trailed lightly over his lovers bare stomach as he leaned down and just licked the tacky head as it appeared in the tight circle of his hand. “There are better ways to use this,” he muttered softly, grinning as he pushed his hand out of the way and sucked the leaking head into his mouth, working on his pants as he sucked gently.

Rhys managed to make a small noise as Joe came in, but he didn’t stop. There was nothing to be ashamed of, he thought. Masturbating was a normal function. And ever since Felix, Rhys just had worries about initiating sex. The medicine kept his raging libido down and that caused for a very lonely husband. So when Joe was actively participating rather than chastising him, Rhys couldn’t help the grin that parted his face. And then the beautiful pair of lips opened and sucked him in, licked at the sensitive, leaking head and Rhys fell backwards, landing in the mattress with a groan. “That feels so good baby, shit,” he said, tangling is fingers through dark hair and he gently pushed on Joe’s head, coaxing him down a little more.

(Source: rhys-tap)

One

The fat meat throbbed to life as his fingers wrapped around hit tighter, squeezing it as he pulled down. “Fuck,” he whispered to himself, fully aware of the movement out and about, around the house. Joe doing chores, the dogs following back and forth, too concerned with not being alone to bother realizing they’re in the way. Rhys was horny. So horny. Fucking starving to have his dick touched and felt but he was too nervous to ask. Too scared to insist. Rhys stretched out in the bed, pushing his shirt up his chest a little more, spreading his bare legs wide and he shuttered as his dick twitched again in his palm. He gave a wrecked little moan as he pumped the thick shaft, every inch carefully tended to. His hips left the bed as his heels dug into the mattress and he was fucking his hand, harder, faster, trying desperately to get off. 

Sharks and Cold Bits

joemorgantap:

"Can’t help it," he muttered softly with a giggle still, warm and comfortable against his husband as he slowly came to life. "I got you, what do I need socks for?" His hands kept travelling, traversing, feeling him up just because he could and he gave a happy sigh into his husband’s ear. "Yeah you are," Joe intoned softly before giggling like a manic and blushing in his ear. He let himself be moved and rolled and shuffled around until he was laying on Rhys’ chest, listening to his heart beat, his ear pressed against his chest hair and he sighed softly. "Good morning, gorgeous," and he leaned up and kissed his chin gently. "How did you sleep? Well, how were you sleeping before I woke you up anyway?" And he rolled a little and settled on his chest with his chin, gazing up at his lover before leaning down and kissing his heart again and looking up at him. "Sorry for waking you," But he was only a little bit.

Rhys kissed his husband’s forehead, over his temple and along the shell of his ear. His beautiful, lovely, sweet ear. The pair he fell in love with. “What happens when I die of a heart attack? Hm? Or diabetes. Then what? Your feet wont have me to warm them up, you’ll need knitted socks. And you’ll be so old, they’ll only get colder from here.” Rhys made a face, ran his fingers along Joe’s spine, down to his crack and up again, ghosting over ribs and bone and flesh. “I slept really well. I had a wicked dream that I can’t remember. But I’m happier being here with you. Reality with you is better.” Rhys gave him another kiss and shimmed down, down, underneath the blankets, swimming, it would seem until he was off the bed entirely. He waited a moment. And— “Dun… dun.” He crawled back up the side of the bed, keeping under the blankets the whole time. “Dun-dun.” he moved slow, but quickened the pace. “Dun dun dun dun dun dun.” and around the side he went, ripping the covers off his husband and bit him right on the ass cheek, hard, leaving a mark and he collapsed on top of him. His naked body pressing his husband’s into their large, warm bed. “Mine.” He said, and he wiggled into him. “You’re mine” 

Diego

Diego

Sharks and Cold Bits

joemorgantap:

Joe frowned and his lashes fluttered open, staring out at the view of the beach from their bedroom windows. Joe had taken to sleeping in the nude again and that was fine, as long as the blanket was still on him. The weather was still prone to random cold snaps and that must have been the case at the moment. He stuck his feet further under the blankets, withdrawing them from where they had been sticking out and he shivered, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. To no avail. His feet were fucking freezing. Next to him was his own personal space heater, his husband and he made a small noise and rolled over. His feet stuck out and he pressed his cold toes to the warm curve of his calves and he shuffled in close, pressing himself down his back and cuddling him close. Much better. Much, much better. As he tried to settle to sleep, he found himself unable to, so he instead he started harassing his husband. He ran his hands through his chest hair, followed his snail trail. He ran his hands over his stomach, played with his nipples. He kissed and sucked and bit and nibbled at his shoulder, at his neck and his ear. He made little giggling, growling noises as he kept up his mid, early morning assault, pressing himself tight to the back of his warm, cuddly husband.

Cold toes up his leg. That was what woke him from his dreams. He was doing something important too, like saving the world from the ninth dimension space aliens, or something equally as fucked and he was pulled away. Good job, Joseph, dooming the world inside Rhys’ skull. “You’re gonna wear knit socks if that’s how cold your feet get, pengting,” he said, slowly waking from his slumber. Rhys smiled as Joe’s hands traveled around him, molesting him, not letting him go back to sleep. Rhys felt the other body form into his, cling to his back and then the noises were made and sounded too cute not to grin like an idiot at. “Point’s made I’m up. I’m up.” He rolled over a little, pushing Joe out of the way until the man was just laying on his chest, in his arms. “Morning, baby.” 

Diego

Diego

Team Death Match

It had only made sense to do this. Rhys had enough experience under his belt, did the required courses online and in secret over the last few months and now it was time for the physical. After a few days of whipping his body in shape, which for him, wasn’t difficult, he was ready to for the eval-test that determined weather he’d be on the force or not. 

The whistle was blown and the men, and a few ladies, were off. Through the obstacle course they went. Over hurdles, under barbed wire, over walls. It was boot-camp all over again for Rhys. Minus the angry drill captain that yelled in his ear and made him dig his own grave. A few times. So already this was better. 

Rhys came in second, finishing just after this large, dark skinned, macho-type guy who Rhys was assuming would be a prick but after learning he was one of those, geek-yesterday, hunk-today kind of guys, Rhys felt differently about him. He was actually pretty chill and down to earth and knew a shit load about military stuff which won over Rhys’ heart, of course. Diego, was his name.

The guys, and one lady, decided to celebrate their passing with a few rounds at the bar. Rhys was going to just go home, but they insisted he join them and being the social butterfly the marine was, he couldn’t find an argument.  

Long after everyone left, Diego kept putting his cash out for drinks and Rhys stuck to his root beer. Diego only had a few beers before switching over to the soda himself, realizing Rhys was a sober-kind-of-guy. It was entirely kind of him. Not many people did that. They talked for a few hours, discussing military, war, the politics of it. Rhys showed off his battle scars and Diego, loving the trade but not having any war-experience himself, oggled over Rhys like he was some rockstar that needed discovering. His scars were praised and his stories were actually listened to. 

And Rhys felt like he should have been down at the VFW. 

Six hours spent talking in the bar, drinking soda and eating beer nuts, the marine had to go. He exchanged contact information with Diego and wished one another luck on the test, hopefully both making it in and working together soon 

The minute Rhys returned home he made a b-line for the shower, washing the dirt, sweat and bar-smell off of him. He wasn’t about that pub life anymore, he realized. Cuddled in front of the television with his blanket, playing Call of Duty, he was added by Diego (after exchanging screen names with him at some point) and the two played team death match until Rhys smelled food being cooked. 

Mall

"But it works on hard wood and carpet," he was told. Rhys stood there at the kiosk another twenty minutes studying over the aerosol cleaners, trying not to make the obvious, lewd joke in the salesman’s sentence. A little bit of flirting thrown his way by the younger salesman and Rhys was reduced to blushes and smiles. And of course he bought the damn thing. Salesmen. They thought they were so slick.

In the candleshop, Rhys wanted to get some new scents for around the house. Fragrances, no matter how trivial-seeming, were important when you lived with as many animals as he and Joe did. Right away he was seen and helped by the ladies at the front desk, two or three instantly came to him, pecking and plucking and showing him their favorites. One had vanilla, another had apple pie and the one that was pushing her breasts together showed him how Sex on the Beach and Happily Ever After just smelled so good together. Rhys got a little of each. Damn sales girls. 

This was why Rhys didn’t go to the mall. Everyone was selling you something and nobody told the truth about their product. 

In fact, the only good, honest selling points at the mall were the food kiosks and grills in the conservatory. The place Rhys usually spent his time while Joe or whoever dragged him.

He went home later, set up the candles so that the house could get their full advantage. The cleaning spray, well, Joe would know what to do with it.

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