Tropico

joemorgantap:

She waited for him as he gave a look of utter confusion, like she had lost her mind. A sigh left Calypso’s mouth as he spilled into her arms; big and warm and welcome and alive and wanted and familiar. His arms wrapped tight around her and her arms wrapped tight around him, she gazed up at him with large, searching over her own, letting the the storm colour of his gaze wash over her and consume her. She hummed and nodded her head a little, solemn that she had to go through his moment with him again. Always this moment. “I have,” she sighed as he looked at her. She swallowed and shuddered with delight as his fingers trailed up her back and along the curve of her neck, melting a little into the touch.

She inhaled sharply as his fingers tangled in her dark curls and tugged her head back, the jerk of the roots against her scalp shooting down her spine. Her throat bared to him just a little she tilted her chin up further, willingly exposing her wind pipe. “So many times before we have laid together, my love. With great, fervours joy.” she said softly, her lashes fluttering shut. “You’re known to shift faces though,” and she looked back at him, right into his eyes and smiled. “I’ve bared many of your children,” She leaned into him, pressing into him. “But none for you with this face,” and her hand raised and dragged her fingers over his cheek gently. 

Nikolai glanced around the pool. Every face was new to him and yet he couldn’t help but feel them to be oddly familiar. Power of persuasion, perhaps. His fingers tangled in her hair, fading into the tendrils as they bled throughout the water. His free hand traced over her shoulder, sliding wet fabric as he moved, shedding the dress, as lovely as it was, from her delicate frame. The sheer fabric floated somewhere in the water. Nikolai pressed his lips to Calypso’s, kissing her softly and as he did, he picked her up, forced her legs around him and his hands moved to support her bare ass. He moaned softly as their middles touched. His dick, hard and curious now, was brushed by her body. It’d been weeks since he’s last been touched like this by another human. Months since he’s laid with one. 

"Calypso," he breathed, moaning her name into her throat as he kissed and laved, licked and sucked at the soft skin. Panting and sweating and humping, rutting his body against hers, looking for friction, for heat. His cock all but penetrated inside her. Rubbed against her clit, between her folds, between her cheeks. Up against her hip, her thigh, her stomach. Everywhere but where they both probably wanted it. Backed up against the lip of the pool, closer to Latinus and two of the other women who took his hat and bandanna. He pressed Caypso against the rock and stared into her eyes a moment. Still, no memory of her. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Tropico

joemorgantap:

"Does that sound so bad?" she asked, head canting to the side. This was not the first time, and it would not be the last that they met. They were destined to meet, over and over, and she loved him just as much every time. He was hers. Odysseus wasn’t forced so much. She had mistaken him for the one man she always found and fallen in love with him. She had been reluctant to let him go until she gained Latinus. She looked at him and his much closer proximity, licking her lips a little as she gazed at his awed face, lashes fluttered as she looked back at her son before looking back at Nikolai. She reached out for him and brushed her fingers over his skin slowly, just to feel him. "I’m glad it pleased you," she said softly, smiling at him, omitting the bit where she had sung it to him before, or a version of it.

"Whenever you would like to hear one of us sing, just say," and her fingers dragged over his chest and dropped into the water with a small splash. "I have embraced you before, Nikolai, allow me to do so again?" and she stood form her seat, the water licking around her waist as she held her arms open to him. She wanted to feel his warmth and his skin, she craved his attention and his touch despite not having had it yet, she needed it. Wanted it, desperately. Latinus, shuffled back a little against the lip of the pool, watching them both carefully. Used to being mute on land, he was out of habit of speaking when he was back in the sea, so he simply watched.

Gentle waters licked at his hot, inked, naked skin and he gave a sigh as they cooled him down. Or attempted to. Latinus all but blended into the background. Nikolai had his eye on the boy the entire time. His captor. His Kidnapper. The human glanced at Calypso as if she had lost her mind, but he was never one to question a god before, he most certainly wouldn’t do it in one’s presence. Nikolai crossed the short span between himself and the lovely young siren and he spilled into her arms. His own wrapped tight around her hips and he held her close, staring and getting lost in her eyes. And oh, how beautiful they were. 

"You’ve embraced me before…" he echoed, trying to figure out this puzzle. Had he been so drunk as to stumble upon her island before, bed her and leave? Is that why he was here? Had he angered the sea nymph? Nikolai carefully, gently dragged his fingertips over the woman’s back, up along her neck, curled his fingers in her long, dark hair and gave it a tug so that her throat would be bared to him, just a little. "Have we laid together, song bird? Have I disappointed you in some manner? Or have you bared my child and sent for me?" 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Tropico

joemorgantap:

"Consume your heart? No, I mean to keep it safe, my love," her voice soft and warm as she reached out and ran her fingers over his cheek bones. In a way, she felt like she had known the pirate, like she had known him from before she had set eyes on him. There were men like that, that seemed like they had known her and she had known them for all eternity, like they were sailing away from each other only to collide at points across the fabric of time. "I mean to love you, and make you feel loved," She glowed at his praise and the boy smiled, coy and sweet and shy and buried his face in his mothers hair. "He is my greatest achievement," she agreed, pushing her fingers through his matching dark curls. 

Again, she felt the heated gaze of his on her skin, resting on her breasts and her slender throat before reaching her eyes again. “A thousand lives and a thousand ships,” she echoed and hummed before shaking her curls just a little. “That won’t be necessary, for you, my love, I will sing whatever you would like,” she tugged Latinus into the water and he landed with a splash, brilliant golden tail taking place of his legs as he coughed his voice into being. “A song, just for you,” and her fingers dragged away from his face and Latinus took his mothers hair in his fingers and began combing it gently. It was a soft tune, warm and lilting. Almost like a lullaby. It was loving and gentle, haunting and deep, a union of voices that entranced and ensnared and enraptured. It was a song of need and desire and want, of love and companionship and a partnership, a love that never ended.

Who knows how long they sung for, how long it was before their voices faded away back to the natural silence of the island and Calypso looked at her new love, smiling just a little as her eyes wandered over his body.

"And with loving me, making me love you, I assure you, Calypso, you’ll be all-consuming of my heart." Again, Nikolai bowed. He heard of Odysseus and what had happened to the Titan. He learned of his capture, his forced marriage with the sea-witch and their children. The warrior wasn’t the only one, either. There were many. Nikolai glanced at all of her children and he knew Odysseus was someone special if Latinus was this important to her. And he was just as lovely as her too. But he kept that aside and didn’t show his full understanding. The only upper hand he had was his knowledge. And giving it up meant losing this sick game. "Your love?" His head canted to the side, but before he could make sense of the situation, before he could grasp the full gravity of it all, Latinus was splashing his way into the water, his tail as golden as the highlights of his eyes, the rays of the fire in the sun. Nikolai was falling. 

The pair sang for him. Latinus’ fingers combed through his mother’s hair and Nikolai was entranced more-so than he felt he should be. He was lost in their song. His heart felt as if it were breaking. His eyes watered to their tune and he moved closer, slowly, ever so slowly. The ripples in the water moved around his hard-cut body and he hummed to their tune, too afraid he’d mess it up i he spoke outright. The other sirens listened in silent also. And when they were done, Nikolai was starstruck, dumbfounded, colored stupid. “That was—that was, um, beautiful,” he said, plainly. “Thank you.” 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Tropico

joemorgantap:

She felt his gaze on her skin, following her when she moved from the land to the sea. She gazed at him as he gazed at her, quiet and collected and contained, the eerie calm before the storm out at sea. She smiled at him and nodded her head, dunking it for a moment before coming back up, hair wet and smoothed back from her face. She pushed away from the lip of the pool, floating back a little as the big man decided to join her. “Nikolai,” she purred, the name lilting off the end of her tongue as she gazed at him as he bowed, a smile curling the edges of her mouth. She watched as his travelled over her children, taking each lovely shape in and face and lean line, watching as they settled on the lovely Latinus.

She smiled a little larger, almost delighted and she bit her lip a little. “That’s correct,” she confirmed, despite the statement in the others voice. “Why do you think? What tales do you hear? What reasons are you normally given?” she looked over her shoulder and held her hand out to Latinus who wandered forward and took it in his own, pressing his cheek against the back of her hand. “This is Latinus, my favourite of all my children,” It was well known amongst the other sirens that Latinus was the favourite and there was little point in being upset about it, because it wouldn’t change anything. “Do you like him?” and she canted her head to the side as he settled on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in.

When he was twelve, Nikolai ran away from home. He left the frigid waters of the north territories of Russia and sailed his hand crafted dingy to Finland. It was a terrifying trip for a child but he made it and when he arrived to the new land, he married a young girl, had a child and began a life. Unfortunately, the plague claimed both his young wife and their child leaving Nikolai with nothing but his boat and the sea, and so he sailed again at fourteen and found his way to Bermuda. Nikolai made love with the sea as a child, and therefore, understood her and her calling far better than any man. “You want more children and to consume my heart,” he said, dry and flat. Calypso was everything he’d ever dreamed her to be. And so he felt so empty when he finally met her, but had no idea why. 

Nikolai glanced over at the boy when he was mentioned and after a quick survey of his features, the Russian Pirate bushed and bowed his head again. “Aye, he’s lovely.” Nikolai remembered looking into the boy’s eyes the first time, becoming entranced and lost in his soul and letting his life go in the siren’s hands. “He’s your greatest work,” Nikolai said to Calypso. His eyes ran up her figure again, lingering by her breasts than on her throat. “I would give a thousand lives and a thousand ships to hear you both sing a song. It would ruin whole cities, I’m aware. But, if I could be worthy of your voices, together, singing a song, just for me?” Nikolai blushed as he silenced himself. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Tropico

joemorgantap:

She was grateful for her children. For each and everyone one of them. They loved her and she loved them and they understood. They understood what she needed, what she craved, what Posiden refused to give. They didn’t question or cast harsh judgement, they accepted her for what she was, who she was and went out to help her find it. The worth were bought to her, the unworthy were consumed. Searching was hungry work after all.

All of her children were like her. Beautiful and with a voice that could drive to total and utter distraction. Latinus was one of her favourites, quiet with dark eyes and dark hair, he had the highest standard and one of the loveliest voices, which he forfeited every time he stepped foot on land. His voice could launch another battle of Troy and Calypso wasn’t quite prepared for that.

Latinus hovered on the edge of the group of his sister, laughing and giggling between themselves. One had taken the pirates hat, the others touching. It had been a while since a man had made it to the island, so the girls were curious, asking him question after question even after they understood he didn’t speak their language. They were friendly, accommodating and he left the pirate in their care, turning away to go and find their mother. 

She appeared behind the pirate, hearing him ask about their captain. Or King. Or Prince. Men and their silly assumption of power. “There’s only a Queen on this island,” she said to him lightly, smiling a little as she came into view, her eyes dragging over him, drinking him in and she smiled. “Is that enough?” and she stepped into the pool, joining her children and their offering. The light cotton of her robe became darker and more see through the further she submerged herself, but it was of little consequence. The pirate was already surrounded by nude sirens, what difference was another body?

With dark, snaking curls and smooth skin, Calypso didn’t exactly look any older than her children, but there was something in her eyes that suggested the opposite. “What should I call you traveller?” she asked, head canted to the side, curls sinking into the water.

Traveling the world taught Nikolai many things. One being, never sail north or south too far, and the other, never underestimate the powers of a woman. Siren or not. His eyes followed the woman to the water and he was entranced, his voice and mind stolen with every step she took. Her gown flowed as did his consciousness and he stared at her breasts, nearly exposed through the wetness of the dress. He swallowed. “Yes ma’am.” He went for his hat but found it gone and the giggles reminded him that one of the other sirens had snatched it. His nudity went uncaring, however. 

Nikolai followed the woman into the cool, still waters. “Nikolai. The Russian Pirate, ma’am.” He gave a bow, showing her due respect. She was, after all, a queen. Nikolai’s eyes traveled around the group. Over to the dark haired boy with big brown eyes and the other sirens that all sat and swayed. Beautiful tails splashed in the waters, vibrant colors seemingly bleeding out. “You’re Calypso.” He stated. It wasn’t a question about it. Everything pointed to it being only that. “And you’ve come to collect. Why?” 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Tropico

The hot sun beat down on him as he explored the island and it became almost too unbearable. Nikolai shed his clothes until he was bare. On he trudged, searching for both a shelter, a way off, treasure and rum. In that order. His hat, the only remaining article of clothing left on his sun-kissed, tattooed, pirate-branded body was the only shade from the sun peeking between palm fronds that he had. Until he came to the mystic springs. 

The Russian Pirate was greeted by young, naked sirens. Some with legs, others in the cold water with tails and that’s when Nikolai saw the siren boy that brought him here. Suddenly, this felt more like a capture and less like a sparing of life. John was devoured, not good enough to bring back to their queen, he realized. Nikolai must have had an air about him. “Hello,” he said, nervously. 

The girls giggled as they greeted him, touched his skin and traced the ink with their fingers. One twisted her hand in his big, bushy red beard and tugged him into a kiss. Another siren took his hat and put it on her own head. A few girls whispered among themselves, another spoke tongues at Niko, obviously asking him questions, but in a language he couldn’t understand. 

They brought him into the cool waters and began bathing him. Some girls were like the boy, quiet and shy. “Where-where is your captain?” he asked, “Or King? Prince?” He was answered with more giggles, kissed by one siren and continued getting groped and molested by curious hands. 

Yo Ho Ho

The captain’s fingers played over the wooden wheel, itching to turn it the few degrees east, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Could he? No, the crew was expecting to be in Barbados by sunrise and they were already running low on supplies as it was. He was down to his last bottle of rum himself. 

But still. The north star was twinkling overhead, all but overshadowed by the scattering of her sisters. The Russian Pirate stared up at them as if they were Gods to be envied. One look around the empty deck and he smiled wryly to himself. His finger pushed the notch and they began sailing the few degrees east like he had wanted to. 

It was a siren’s song that woke the men up and the captain’s heart skipped a beat. The men’s hair was sticking up on end on the backs of their necks. 

"Where are we?" One asked, shivering.

And that’s when the water grew still, the air grew colder, frost covered the wood on the deck and the tops of the water formed a thin layer of ice, wavering only to the bow of the ship. 

The captain looked at his men. Their lives were now in his hands. The blood that would be shed tonight were on his own fingers. This was all his fault. “Cover your ears, boys. Do not be goaded in.” 

The call became stronger as their cries became more desperate. One crewman leaned over the side of the ship, but before anyone could pull him back, a mermaid came propelling up from the water and snatched him, carrying him under the surface with her. 

"No! John!" One of them called, lunging for where his friend once stood.

Two other crewmen grabbed him before he could get too close to the edge. They looked to their captain or answers and the Russian Pirate could only stare back at them with guilt in his eyes. 

"Treasure is buried east. I thought we could find it," he admitted. 

There was a scuffle. A brawl. Under the enchanted stars, The Russian Pirate was held over the side of the ship for the sirens to take. 

"Mutiny," he hissed. 

And just as his last breath left his lungs, a young mermaid boy splashed out of the water, wrapped his slimy arms around the captain’s body and there, in the air, it was still. The captain searched the umber eyes for a soul and found none. 

Into the water they went. The Russian Pirate was dragged down, deeper and deeper until he could see nothing. The young mermaid wouldn’t let him go. The captain would drown. He would drown and be devoured. 

Deeper still, he was dragged. His vision was lost, is conscious self was lost. Everything went black. 

It was the crashing of waves against a beach that woke him. The Russian Pirate’s eyes fluttered open. He was in the surf, washed up on shore on some deserted island. The mermaid from last night just beyond the breakers, staring at him. 

The captain stood up slowly and the siren vanished underneath the waves. 

A curious predicament he found himself in now. Alone, on a beach. His ship long gone, stolen by his crew. The siren meant to kill him had spared him and other than an empty belly and a salty tongue, he went unscathed. 

"Mutiny," he repeated. 

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

"You’ll fit in then," he said with a grin, sucking his own ice treat down and into his stomach. "Of course, my pleasure," and he winked a little before laughing. "And that was definitely my pleasure," His eyebrows went up and he grinned, looking down for a second before looking up. "I’d really like that," And he craned up into the kiss with a small hum. He blinked and was reminded that right. Base. Unit. Boyfriend. Right. "Of course," and he smiled at the other and finished his treat, throwing the plastic in the bin, pretending he didn’t feel a pang of disappointment at the obvious course of action. He dressed with Rhys, taking his time and stretching up, spine cracking before standing flat on his feet. "So, ah, you’re pretty healthy I would say," he said with a small laugh. "I’m giving you a clean bill of health,"

The air was thick with disappointment. He was disappointed in himself for a few reasons, the main one being that his clothes were back on. His eyes wandered to Joe. Joe’s ass. The things he wanted to do to that ass. The man’s mouth, and all the way around his body. “My pleasure too,” he concluded. The ongoing joke sat well with him and he sniffled a  little. “I definitely have a cold, so, don’t write me too clean of a bill of health. I wanna get out of kitchen duty.” The door was opened and Rhys rejoined the unit in the rec hall. Sean was eyeing them up suspiciously and Lint was playing GTA 4 before Rhys stole it away. They’d go to dinner soon. Shower. Have inspection then it’d be lights out. After it was all said and done, Rhys was pulled from his bunk by Sean and led away, inspected thoroughly, beaten, forced to dig shallow graves for the first years and beaten some more. He returned to his bunk filthy and bloody and bruised, said nothing to Joseph and slept for the half hour he was allotted before it was time to dress and ready for their deployment to Afghanistan. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

In his hair. In Rhys’ body hair. Smeared across his skin and Rhys’ skin and matting in their pubes. It was fucking excellent. He was ecstatic about having arms hold him tight as he tried to not ooze all over other into a boneless entity. His whole body buzzed and hummed as he laid there and caught his breath before moving himself to look at the other, grinning like a mad man as big hands ran over his flushed, hot skin. “Fuck yeah it was,” he said with a nod as the others legs fell away. He craned up and kissed his mouth and then his jaw and let himself rest a little more. He pulled out eventually and set about cleaning them both up. Moist towels later and their vigorous application to cleaning them both up and his own head being shoved under the tap to clean out his strands, he considered the drips and shook his head, choosing instead to opt with electrolyte ice blocks. He wandered across the room and handed on to Rhys. “So, I’d like to do some version of that again,” he said with a grin as his lips wrapped around his frozen treat, perched naked on his stool as he grinned at the other.

He took the freeze pop and ate on it like it was his last meal. It was cold, it was liquid and it felt good as it perspired and dripped down onto his hot skin. “I smell so fucking bad,” he said, swallowing some of the liquid. “Thanks for cleaning me up though. And thanks for making me cum so many times.” He’d definitely return that favor. “We’ll do that again, but you’ll be at my mercy.” Rhys kissed Joe’s mouth as he slowly sat up in the bed. His head was swimming and pounding. “For a few days, we shouldn’t…you know, be obvious.” For obvious reasons. Rhys finished the ice pop, threw the plastic in the trash and started getting dressed as best as he could. His legs felt like jelly and his arms were stiff and heavy. Joe fucking destroyed him. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

Spot definitely fucking found. He watched Rhys’ mouth drop open, felt his walls tighten and he mewled and kept fucking away, delighting in the tight, wet hold on his hard dick. He swore under his breath, his hands falling away from his hips to help him balance, hands pressed hard into the mattress. He felt the other tighten again, impossibly so and he watched the other cum again, third and final over his hip and he swore viciously to himself. He felt the big, callused hands wrap around his wrists and he nodded his rapidly, moaning and swearing. He panted and keened as the others body tightened around him further and a few almost vicious pounds into Rhys’ tight ass and he was cumming with a soft wail, grinding hard and deep into his ass as he felt himself cum hard and deep into the others ass, pushing the cum in as far as possible with little shallow, internal thrusts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped as he kept moving, slowly working his way through his orgasm, staring at the other before he stopped moving and collapsed over the others boneless body, panting softly.

There was cum everywhere. Rhys was saturated in the stuff and he couldn’t be more thrilled about it as he held Joe’s body closer. His insides were still throbbing as they were getting used to not being used. His muscles were keeping as much of Joe’s seed inside him as they could. And as they laid there, Rhys quietly, silently, secretly plotted how he could repay Joe this favor. They were coming up on some vacation time soon and before they were free, he’d be sure to fuck Joe to with in an inch of his life. “Shit,” he said, finally. “That was um.. fuck.” His large hands skated over Joe’s hot skin, feeling soft flesh beneath his palm. “Was it as good for you?” He asked. His legs fell, finally, unable to hold onto the other man for much longer. 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

Licking his lips Joe looked at Rhys as he grabbed his arms and he grinned just a little. He felt grinning was appropriate. This was pretty fucking amazing. He let himself be wrapped up tighter by the other, legs squeezing him tight. He watched, eyes wide almost as the other fucked himself on his dick and he grunted, twitching into it as he rolled and moved. “I got you,” he said softly, leaning in and kissing his mouth, sucking his lips and biting as he pulled away, kissing his neck and chest a little before standing up straight. Hands still wrapped around his hips tight, he pulled out till just the head rested inside of him and snapped his hips back in, thrusting in fast and probably hard before repeating the action. Drag out, snap back in. Jolting and needy, he panted softly as he felt the tight walls grab at his dick as he pulled out and part when he fucked back in, his hands gripping harder around the others hips as he worked himself in and out of the tight hole, searching, searching for that right angle that would have the other throwing himself off the bed.

Spot found. Rhys was already silently screaming. His jaw gaped and silence spilling out from his chest, he rolled his hips into the other and found his sweet spot being abused. His dick throbbed harder and without even reaching down, he began rubbing it against Joe’s belly, letting the friction do the work. More twitching, more rolling his hips, he jolted with every slam forward and his prostate licked at Joe’s dick until he was moaning and panting into the air. A litany of swears and names were thrown around and Rhys went boneless on Joe, letting his body lay heavily on the bed as his dick dribbled over with cum again, for the third time. Big, calloused hands wrapped around Joe’s wrists as he worked through the orgasm, tightening his walls around Joe’s cock, milking him. “Cum in me,” he begged, body limp and heated. “Please fucking cum inside me.” 

(Source: rhys-tap)

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

"Mostly am," he supplied, voice tight as tore his eyes from where he was pressing in and up to the others face. "Sometimes I change my mind," and he shrugged and grinned a little. He swallowed hard and nodded his head. "That’s the plan," he muttered softly, a little bit of a smart ass when he was concentrating and distracted. He pressed in a little more, easing in a few inches before pulling out and pushing back in again, gaining ground with each slow push into Rhys. And God was it good. He was tight and hot and wet and fucking delicious, shuddering and moaning and well fuck. His hands wrapped around the others hips and he pushed forward harder, just a little faster and with a snap of his hips he sunk the whole way home, hip bones pressed flushed to the others ass cheeks and he keened softly. "Fuck you’re tight," he whimpered, eyes squeezed shut before opening them to look at his Marine. "So fucking good,"

Not one little bit of him believed that he was tight. Not at all. If he was, it was unyielding scar tissue. Rhys didn’t respond to it other than with a soft moan when Joe brushed over his prostate. “You feel so good,” he added, mumbling and moaning softly under his breath. Joe felt incredible. Their bodies molded together seamlessly, giving him the illusion that maybe, just maybe they were destined for each other. Every notion of that faded away when he heard boots marching in a line outside the door. They were in war and this was some fun on the side. He had to remember that. Rhys’ hands wrapped around Joe’s smaller arms and he gave them a squeeze. His legs wrapped around the doctor’s waist so tight, he pulled him in and fucked himself against Joe’s dick, moaning when his ass cheeks bumped into the other’s ball sack. “Joe,” he panted, rolling his hips around. “More.”

(Source: rhys-tap)

Common Cold

joemorgantap:

He stood from his rolly stool, pushing it out of the way and he leaned over the other, one hand fingering him slow and open as Rhys’ legs wrapped around him, the other supporting his weight next to the others head as he leaned down to kiss him, slow and hard and searching, his tongue pushing between the others lips as he attempting to kiss the soul right from Rhys’ body. “It would be my pleasure,” he murmured against his mouth, three fingers pushing in and dragging out. To be honest, Joe liked foreplay. He liked touching and tasting and watching his partner fall apart. He fucking loved it, in fact. “I’m going to show you how good this can be,” and he kissed his jaw and his chin, biting at his jaw bone before he removed his fingers. “Stay put,” he said to the other softly with a grin, sucking on his ear. Quickly he stripped himself off, pausing to fight with boots for a second before he returned. Taking Rhys’ legs he wrapped them back around his hips and slicked his dick up with more lube. There was never such as a thing as too much lube. Taking his dick in his hand, he grunted and rubbed the head teasingly against his hole, up and down, up and down. “Ready for me?” he asked softly, pressing against the wet, hot opening and sinking just the head of his dick into the tight heat, swearing softly.

Everything felt fucking incredible already. Three fingers, a dick, it didn’t matter. Joe had him that eased. It felt good. He kissed back, nipping at the corpsman’s lips and whimpered softly when it was all taken from him. Joe went off to undress and Rhys watched with heated interest as the clothes fell away from Joe’s body. He was ripped. Rhys’ arms tucked behind his head so that he could see better. His body was sprawled out across the bed even more, his ass hanging of the edge so that Joe could fuck him—a strange concept, he thought. Joe fucking him. Not Sean. “I pegged you for a strict bottom,” he said.The doctor filled the space between his legs, Rhys moaned as the head teased his hole and when the opening was spread by hot dick meat, Rhys shuttered and moaned. “More… fuck..more.” 

(Source: rhys-tap)