The warmth, weight and touch of another body against his own was always a welcoming sensation; satisfying too. As Markus held onto him, rutting into his body with desire, the warlock was unable to hold back the moans that spilled from his mouth. This was erotic on a whole new level. To have someone he had known for the past forty years, holding onto him for dear life, hearing him whimper and moan against him as he needlessly ground his throbbing cock against his own, it was thrilling to say the least. "Fuck, boy, I knew incubi were insatiable but... goddamn," he ribbed with a toothy grin on his face. "Never imagined you to be this aroused and... receptive—" Before he could say much else, his lips were pleasantly attacked with the man's lips. Soft to the touch, wet from slobbering over Cyrus' fattened piece of meat that continued to throb, now neglected as it rested against his hip. The kiss was reciprocated. He continued to hold onto the demon, keeping him close, comforted and secured in his bulging arms, long and packed with corded muscle, biceps bigger than that of a regular humans head. As the kiss progressed, tongues were added into the mix, soaking in, rubbing off against its new partner, tasting himself. A wave of shivers ran down his spine upon experiencing how in-synch the two men were; how when Cyrus angled his head to deepen the kiss, Markus did too. He expected nothing else from a man that was probably having sex a few times a week to keep himself looking healthy, beefed up and virile.
There was a soft whine when the locking of lips came to an end, even more when he watched with lust in his eyes, scanning over the dense, naked figure begin to move away from where he was sat, his hands set behind him to rest back without leaning back down to the large cinema-style sofa. Upon witnessing Markus turn away, lowering himself to create that beautiful arch of his lower back, with full-fat cheeks in the air, Cyrus had to resort to biting onto his lower lip to stop himself from groaning any more than he already was. What came next had shocked him. Seeing how the incubi surrendered completely, grappling onto the large globes of his ass, almost as if he were putting them out for a personal, once-in-a-lifetime show. Cyrus' cock visibly jolted when he saw Markus wettening his fingers and guiding them downwards, between the rounded curves of his rear to pet over that pink, little opening. "Oh shit!" It reminded him of a particularly memory, one where Markus' twin brother, Milo, had done an almost identical manoeuvre, no less than a year ago during one of his romps; position, the wet fingers and words of plea. Wanting to not ruin the mood by commenting on it, figuring Markus would not want to be compared to his younger brother, he said nothing. If Markus was anything like his brother, Cyrus was going to be in for a long, wild night. Admittedly, he had heard tales of how Markus would never, and had never, bent over for another man in his entire long life. But here he was, spread out, arched back, smothering that pucker with hot spit. It had Cyrus gulping down the flood of saliva his mouth was producing, more than once.
This was his ultimate turn-on and weakness. Big, beefy men surrendering to him, pleading for attention and his touch, pliant and ready. In order to alleviate some of the ache he started to experience with his erection, he took a back-handed grip on it and began applying shallow, short strokes to it. Cyrus dared to watch, not breaking eye contact, he barely blinked as he watched, lust turning into a ravenous hunger, the hue of his eyes having turned into a darker shade. His own personal demon was screaming inside of him, urging him to just grapple onto Markus' hips, aim his cock right up against that furled, tight hole and ram into him deep, just to hear him scream and cry and beg for mercy that would not come. Cyrus, having his own interests of being a kind, gentle giant, muted out all of his temptations, even when every fibre of his being was aching to bury his monolith in deep. "That's a pretty pussy, baby." Cyrus let out a sigh, almost sounding as if he had been holding his breath in for too long. "Fuck, that's nice." Whether it was the visual he was getting, or knowing that Markus seldom allowed men anywhere at his hole, he was beginning to get more and more flustered, his eyes captivated by the smooth skin and the wet, shiny entrance. "Once I start feasting on that perfect little hole of yours... you're not getting up until I'm satisfied." Cyrus said in a stern tone, his hand moving quicker along his throbbing member as his impatience grew. "Once I start, you won't be able to get my attention. You call out to me and I won't hear a damn thing. Maybe I would if I get a sense you're not enjoying it, which is doubtful, or if you're uncomfortable."
Sitting up, then moving to his knees, he moved in closer. The hand around his length departed, leaving his cock to hang and bat between his enormous thighs as he closed in on his prey. He sits back on the heel of his feet for a brief moment as his hand reaches out, the tips of his digits lightly petting over the tautness of the puckered hole. So tight, unrelenting. "Pretty pussy," he repeats, his tone deeper, but calmer. With nothing else said, his hands settle over the man's hips, urging him to lay down. The enormous heft of his body laid between the spread legs, making himself comfortable. Arms folded in over the top of his legs, hands grappling onto the thick, bountiful globes of meat. Spreading them just enough to get a peak, Cyrus began his descent, slow and calculating. Nuzzling in, he buries his face between, eyes closed, not wasting any effort in fully spreading his cheeks apart; he likes the challenge, the warmth against the sides of his face, the way his groomed facial hair tickled the sensitive, delicate skin of the area. The second his lips feel the slick of Markus' spit, his wide, long and skilled tongue trickles out, smearing the opening with an extra layer of hot saliva. The upward lick reaches as high up as it can, his mouth seals itself around, the downward glide is smoother and moves swiftly. The motion repeats again, then he spits, seals his mouth and urges his tongue to flutter against that delicious cunt. He falls into the trance, his body relaxing against the sofa as his tongue begins its journey to play and investigate the ins and outs of its new plaything. Not a second is wasted as he sinks into it, doing what he knows best.
The room thrums with the distant bass of music from the club downstairs, provided by noise cancellation panelling and dense windows. As Cyrus lathers, rolls and flicks his tongue, the surroundings fill with the sounds he's making, of slosh, slish and slashing of his tongue as he works the man's hole down. And as he does so, his throat rumbles with joyful groans and grumbles every now and then, like a lion when it's enjoying it's meal.
If there was one thing Markus was good at, amongst many of his skills, it was seducing and enticing others. It came with his base instincts as an incubus, though his particularly beefy, hunky body helped lure others to his bed. When it came to giving himself up for another though, the club owner hadn’t tapped into those aspects of himself until tonight. Even as he released his control and let his demonic influences seep out of him like an aura, his body naturally moved and shifted in a way that made sure Cyrus stayed looking at him. Licking his lips as he continued to tease and play with his tight hole, Markus’ soft whimpers and pleas for more quickly devolved into nonsensical moans and babbles of pleasure. Nothing would compare to feeling Cyrus pleasure him, he was sure. But the club owner would be lying if he said he didn’t find pleasure in fingering himself and slicking up his hole with his own saliva. If it was to put on a rather sensual show for the other man, then Markus could always find pleasure in it.
It seemed his efforts were not in vain, though, and the incubus visibly shuddered as he listened to Cyrus’ low, rumbling voice as the warlock warned him of all the things that would come to pass. About how once they started, they wouldn’t stop. About how Markus couldn’t get his attention once Cyrus feasted upon him. About how his pussy was pretty. The praises made Markus’ cock twitch underneath him, a spurt of pre-cum leaking onto the table that he was bent over. Another soft, low moan slipped out as he only pushed his fat ass cheeks back in response, wiggling them before the other man’s eyes to draw him in. There was something about being praised, about being wanted by the man of his dreams, that did something to incubus in ways he couldn’t begin to describe.
Markus moved his body as Cyrus guided him. Despite all the extra beef and brawn on him, the incubus’ body was pliable to the other’s touches. He lay out on the table, the creaking wood underneath him indicating just how much it worked to keep him upright. Secretly, the club owner relished the idea of Cyrus hoisting him up and bending him over every piece of furniture in his office and penthouse, until they were all broken. His mouth remained open in a small ‘O’ shape, letting out a steady stream of pants and whimpers from the mere feeling of the warlock’s touches. Saliva began to slip down his reddened lips, dribbling onto the table as the incubus lost his mind to the pleasure of being wanted by the other. There was nothing left inside of his pretty mind other than pleasure, sex, and pure, carnal desire for Cyrus and only him. “Please… P-Please… N-Ngh…” he moaned desperately, his eyes rolling back the moment he felt the other’s tongue flick over his tight pucker.
In those moments, it felt as though time had fully stopped for him. The incubus wasn’t sure if he could tell up from down, left from right, or even if they were still in his club anymore. His mind was an absolute blur, rammed repeatedly with the waves of pleasure from Cyrus’ tongue slicking up his hole. His body arched and curved in response, pushing his hips back to keep the warlock’s bearded face trapped between those jiggling, bubbled cheeks. The mixture of fat and muscle acted as a nice, pillowy cushion for the warlock to sink his face into. Markus wasn’t sure how much of his saliva was mixed up with Cyrus’, but the trails sliding down his taint and over his swollen, aching balls indicated just how slick he was now. His pussy was just for the other man to ravish and claim and fuck, and Markus moaned those same thoughts out loud as he lost himself to the ecstasy of being eaten out by the absolute beast of a man.
