Shaun is danger, Shaun is inspiration, Shaun is a hunter. A mere boy in the aging eyes of the mogul, he wields his sharp tongue and smiles and suddenly Jesus’ flesh is held hostage, just like that, and the old man’s consciousness melts into the slick warmth of the young snake’s body. Shaun lures the Bullhead onto arena, and were Jesus his animalistic namesake, his furious huffs would rise clouds of dust from the ground, and his hoof would dig the ground menacingly, but the way he is tricked into chasing his pleasure with desperation of a lonely green youth, it seems like Shaun is leading him in circles, all but laughing at the havoc caused by him.
Jesus’ hungry rage is akin to the hot center of a tornado, sucking in and disrupting coherent thought as the boy’s sphincter contracts around the girth of his cock. Right in the middle of his brilliant performance as a toy, the boy cheekily makes Jesus a plaything of his own. The hand of the old man seeks revenge among the dips and curves of Shaun’s body, finding valleys of tender skin to tease with rubbing of a rough palm, cupping the young man’s balls and cradling the cock in an overwhelming clutch. While each impact of Shaun’s hips colliding with the counter echoes in Jesus’ groin, he assaults the boy’s ass with more force each thrust, relishing the expectation of bright bruises he’ll kiss better with all the bitter spite that’s stored up inside of him. As much as Shaun is enjoying himself, he won’t leave the wolf’s den without a scratch, especially after putting a few dents in said predator’s pride.
With his lips on the back of the boy’s neck, Jesus’ eyelids flutter, betraying the approach of the climax after a few minutes of steady, methodical pumping motions. The formidable weight traps Shaun between Jesus’ stomach and the marble counter again, with no regard for the young man’s need for air. Breathing, after all, is also a thing to be earned in the world of power of such magnitude. As the bright orb of energy engulfs the nerves, Jesus sees the light of clarity at the end of the tunnel again and reaches out to it, craving to regain his enviable composure once again. In a few seconds wet warmth spreads over the inner walls of Shaun’s body, and all the old man can do is hiss a quiet order.
Gasping. Moaning. Trapped. And enjoying every moment of it.
But still not a submissive plaything, never that, even if many thought he was. Oh, how many he had trapped like this? With the promise of power, like a carrot dangling from a stick since it could never be fully reached. And that it was that drove even Jesus, an old master of the games he played into a wild rage.
And knowing that made it all just more pleasurable for the young man, that gasped the older man’s name, lettng himself be pushed down onto the counter again, arms too weak to keep holding him up when pleasure and violence wrecked and shook his body in equal measurements.
Jesus hands find his weak spots in his form as well as Shaun found them in Jesus mind ( maybe even heart? If one believed the man had one of those useles things.)
Shaun’s long dark hair sticks to his face, wet from sweat and cheeks are tinted red from the head. Cock trapped in Jesus hand and hips moving with the rhythm the mogul dictates.
Unable to truly still thinking about much besides their bodies crashing like the stormy seas against cliffs. Especially when oxygen becomes as rare as diamonds between the gasps and moans and Jesus weight.
He would probably have reached his orgasm soon anyway, especially when he feels how Jesus hot cum fills him up. But the order, the tone of it was what truly pushed him over the edge. Made stars dance in front of his eyes and his own cum paint the front of the luxurious kitchen counter. Made his insides spasm even more around Jesus’ cock, like he intends to milk him to the last drop.
Eyes are closed, and breath still heavy, still feeling so full. Now not just stuffed with Jesus’ cock but also filled with a contentment.
He couldn’t even remember what led to this mind blowing rutting in the kitchen, and he did not care anymore.
“I guess... I can skip morning training for today... that burned all calories anyway...” he grins again, eyes opening to look up to the man.
janainaart
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
annaxmalina
