As Bolvirk laid atop of him, willing and receptive to the charge and drag of his thrusts, Cyrusā eyes closed, drawing in his focus. He was a brute of a man, built for endurance and stamina, years of experience had made him a physically fit and able beast. Even as his hips rutted back and forth, digging his fat throbbing mast deep into his beloved, there was no identifier of stress or of exhaustion. No sharpness of breath or rapid breathing; he was calm, collected and refined. This was nothing but intense, pleasurable cardio for him. And the one that would be left aching, sore and ruined, would be the man receiving his efforts. It had been an occurring situation, one that both he and Bolvirk knew all-too-well. Without fault, the conclusion to their night ended with satisfaction, with some relative pain, exhaustion and blissful ache that would last for days and days. As Cyrusā cock slammed away at the prostate, he wondered if he would ever be able to fully sheathe himself inside of his bestfriend, his lover. Though the premise intrigued him, he would never be able to live with himself, if he purposefully hurt Bolvirk in a way that would compromise their trust and love for each otherāand so, with that clear conscious in mind, he fucked the man with what he was comfortable with; with what he could handle, nothing more. Even on the odd occasion that Bolvirk asked for more of that monstrous cock, or asked to be fucked harder, Cyrus was wary and careful.
With large hands latched onto the rounded, pliant cheeks, Cyrus lost himself. Fueled by the moans, winces and whimpers freely flying from his lovers mouth, he was a machine to be feared and worshipped. āFuckkkkkk, babyā¦. fuck, your pussyās the best damn thing Iāve ever fucking feltā¦. my god,ā he moaned out, offering a smack over the left cheek, enough to leave a faint pink print behind on that smooth, tight skin. The warmth, the tightness of the manās walls constricting around his length in an effort to rid itself of it, the slickness of lubricant, spit and pre-ejaculate combining together to make it a wet, glossy glide as his cock dug in, powerfully thick, throbbing, built to break, breed and make a lasting impression. "Iām close, baby.ā He muttered out, the efforts of his work starting to show in the tone of his voice, the way his hips were starting to falter from the intensity of the pleasure shooting down the pillar of meat, the sensation of the constant stimulation becoming overwhelming. But still, the warlock did not let up: he wouldnāt dare to stop now. Not when he could feel his orgasm bubbling at the surface, his balls rounding out, becoming full and tight against his body as they jostled from the upwards thrusts. āI-Iām sorryā¦ just a little while longer, Bolā¦ā Cyrus could not fathom what Bolvirk must have been feeling now. After making a mess all over him and collapsing atop of Cyrus, he must have been more than satisfied, and now here he wasā¦ acting as the receptive to that fat cock being hammered into you. After a climax, the body naturally relaxed, sphincters tightened back up from the efforts of busting a loadā¦ he could feel it in the way Bolvirkās slick walls squeezed around his hot prick, creating a tighter seal around him.
As Cyrus desperately held onto the man, arms hooked around him to hold him in place, a flurry of moans and grunts passed from his mouth. Hips became more and more erratic, to the point where he could hear the sloshing of cock burying in and out of that ruined, well-used hole. Eyes screwing shut tightly, his jaw slackened open, face burying into the crook of Bolvirkās damp, warm neck, moaning in a deep baritone that made his chest vibrate, sounding almost like a release of relief as he then sighed: he gave no warning as the flood of his ejaculate began pouring out, flooding deep inside the man, filling every crevice possible. The dense spurts erupted from the tip of his cock: hot, white and potent. Testicles flexed as he pumped into his man. The torrent of his climax came fast, but it didnāt end, nor did the way his hips continued to thrust upwards into him, chasing after that feeling of numbness and pleasure. If anything, as he began to unload, he grew more and more hungry; but he knew he would have to stop soon, for he knew Bolvirk would not care to forgive him or thank him for his efforts. As he fucked his cum deeper and deeper, sealing his fate, the creamy texture seeped out once Bolvirk was filled to the brim. It drenched the rest of his manhood, spilling down past the smooth orbs that nestled beneath that towering length, and pooled onto the blanket beneath him and his groin area.
Thighs were visibly starting to shake from his efforts. Slowly, but surely, he was calmed enough to begin the descent to light thrusts, to stopping altogether. He laid out fully, legs extending out before him. He could still feel the slit of his cockhead leaking, pouring into the man that he cherished with every fiber of his being. A hum of contentment then boomed out, a grin appearing on his face, satisfied with not only his work, but knowing that Bolvirk had been the one whose body he had claimed.
As he laid there, regaining his composure and breath, his hands ran the course over the large swell of his buttocks, moving up to his lower back and over the thick, muscled plains of his broad, slender back that was wet with sweat. āYou alright, baby? You good?ā More than anything, checking up on his partner was his main priority. Nothing else mattered now.
