(no subject)

[extendedmetaphor]

Since he was going to be gainfully employed, he thought that he'd better come and look around. Dakin had, of course, offered to escort him but he'd thought he'd be better feeling it out on his own. It wasn't quite the same as the Grammer school, but it had a definite charm to it, the classrooms open to the tropical breeze.

Yes, he thought. It would do nicely.
And it definitely wasn't Yorkshire.

Comments

[extendedmetaphor]

It hurt, on the back of too little preparation and too much anticipation, but not in any way that's bad. His back arched, pushing him down further onto Guy's cock.

[patriotqueen]

As he continued, Tom became slicker and though he was still painfully tight, it allowed for better entrance, and deeper thrusts. In his own arousal, he bit down on Tom's neck, to prevent him from moaning, to prevent him from losing control.

[extendedmetaphor]

Every thrust drove Guy deeper, made him moan louder, his hips working rhythmically, riding Guy's cock as much as he can.

The bite made him yelp. He was going to be black and blue tomorrow.

[patriotqueen]

Guy was only encouraged by the moans, by the sounds of pleasure from Tom's throat.

He slid his arms under Irwin's legs, lifting him a bit, reaching deeper, thrusting harder.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Oh, fuck," he said, the swear word slipping out of him with a moan. The pull in the muscles of his thighs was delicious. His fingers pushed into Guy's hair.

[patriotqueen]

The hands in his hair were his guilty pleasure. The sensation of fingers against his scalp was something so delightful, even now the motion was rougher, more urgent, it still send a shiver down his spine. And he allowed it as he continued to push, enjoying the tightness the flexed muscles caused.

He took one of Tom's hands then, and guided it to his own cock. "Touch yourself, make it last."

[extendedmetaphor]

He felt completely and thoroughly fucked, filled and he squeezed his own cock, whimpering.

"It's not going to last if you make me touch myself," he promised, but he didn't need any urging, his fingers sliding over his hard cock, stroking at a counterpoint with Guy's thrusts.

[patriotqueen]

Well, that was rather the point. Making him want to come, making him unwilling to stop himself. He thrust further, thrust deeper, sped up, hungry for more.

[extendedmetaphor]

It was all sensations, the friction of his fingers over his cock, the press of Guy's cock inside him. He leaned up, looking for a kiss.

[patriotqueen]

A kiss he got, a hungry one, a definite wanting one. Guy was in control, certainly he was, but it was getting harder. "Fuck you're... fuck."

[extendedmetaphor]

"I'm what?" urged Irwin, breathing harder, squirming more, his back pushed into the tightest arc it can.

[patriotqueen]

"Tight," came the reply eventually, heavy breaths against his mouth.

[extendedmetaphor]

"It's been a while," he said, taking another kiss, backs of his fingers grazing against Guy's skin.

[patriotqueen]

"It's appreciated," Guy assured him before kissing him back. Then he straightened again, so his thrusts could reach the right spot.

[extendedmetaphor]

There was only so much of this that he could be expected to stand, surely? With Guy thrusting into him, it was all that he could do to lie there and take it, his hand still moving over his cock.

[patriotqueen]

He took Tom's foot, placed it on his torso, allowing deeper penetration as he sat up on his knees. He honestly didn't know how much longer he would last, but he would be damned if he was the first to admit this.

[extendedmetaphor]

All but bent in half, it was too much. Guy's cock felt like it was going so deep that he could almost taste it. For the second time that night, he came so hard he felt like it was being rung out of him.

[patriotqueen]

And with that tightening, Guy couldn't but come as well, hard, after much anticipation and much restraint on his behalf. He moaned loudly - the first load moan all afternoon - as he thrust and came in bursts. Finally, he collapsed on top of Tom.

He kissed the skin nearest to him, which happened to be his collar-bone.

[extendedmetaphor]

That kiss was delightful and Irwin made a pleased sound, his fingers pressed into Guy's hair again.

"That was unexpected," he said. "The whole thing. Not unpleasant, but unexpected."

[patriotqueen]

Guy had to agree with that. "Certainly unexpected. You have a wicked streak, Tom, underneath those layers of Britishness."

[extendedmetaphor]

"You call me Tom," he said, quietly, like he was figuring it through. "Nobody else does. I don't think I even think of myself as Tom, often."

[patriotqueen]

Guy was intensely comfortable where he was, with Tom's hand in his hair, and his head on the other's shoulder. It had been long since he'd had a fuck, but it had been longer since he'd had a body to simply lie against. It was nice. "What?" Guy couldn't help but snort. "I haven't called anyone by their last name since Eton. Is it because you're a teacher? No life outside the classroom?"

[extendedmetaphor]

It was pleasant, to lie cradled against someone, in the heat like that, muscles still stretched and tired. Good tired. Well used.

"Maybe," he said, with an idle shrug. "I've never really thought about it."

[patriotqueen]

"Well, you've had some life beyond the classroom, havent you? This wasn't your first time, was it?" It was a tease of course, to ask him that.

[extendedmetaphor]

"Not my first time, no," said Irwin, smiling at that, combing his fingers idly through Guy's hair. "Far from it, actually. I don't know. Tom's just never really felt like me. I don't really know who he is."