[ The concept of Carmy watching gay porn is never going to lose its appeal for Richie in his capacity as troublesome older brother figures as much as the newly minted hot boyfriend. He twists around a bit to look at him, which means they end up doing eye contact while he strokes himself, which makes everything else he's thinking about just slide right out of his mind.
He watches Carmy and the lube with his eyebrows raised, holding his hand out of the way. ]
[ Not a no. He takes Richie's hand and brings it back to his dick, linking their fingers together. His other hand props his head up again so he can look between Richie's face and their hands on him. Probably the mirror view is pretty good too. ]
Easy nine, cousin. And you can't say I'm biased, I got external feedback and shit.
[ He tugs his own lower lip between his teeth. ]
You should fuck me again. Some more.
[ Practice makes perfect, and he's a perfectionist. Also, he thinks if they use enough lube it might hurt exactly perfectly for him to get off again and he's a spoiled brat sometimes so that's a contributing factor. ]
[ It's a little difficult to concentrate on anything beyond the feeling of holding Carmy's hand on his dick. Richie goes with it immediately, working their joined hands up and down a little, his breath catching as he gets harder, eyes going dark as physical responses start to matter mote than words. ]
Heard, chef. [ Yeah, he's going to keep doing that. But also: ]
[ Being an asshole just because he still hates being called chef in the bedroom. One last crackling stroke and he leaves Richie to jerk himself off while Carmy lubes up his fingers and, trying to act casual about it, slips his hand back between his legs to slick himself. Hisses sharply, his own cock kicking harder as he fingers chafed and roughly-stretched hole. ]
[ Stroking himself off while he watches Carmy finger-fuck himself is a pretty great idea, actually, but Richie's getting greedy the more horny he becomes. He waves his free hand in a circle, like turn around for me. ]
[ He's been kind of accidentally edging Richie, so Carmy doesn't bother stringing this out with more argumentative bullshit trying to rile Richie up, just fucking does it. Pulls his fingers out with a heavy, shuddering exhale and drops onto his stomach and rolls into Richie, leaning back into him, all turned around. Though it wouldn't take any force for Richie to put him where he wants him, Carmy pliant in the service of getting what he wants.
[ As if he's going to turn him down. In the end Richie just sort of rolls with it, literally, until Carmy is more or less on top of him, both of them looking up into the mirror -- or they will be, once Richie is done looking down to try and configure things. He slings an arm around Carmy and keeps his hand on his dick to more or less guide himself into the right place, letting Carmy do some of the work as well.
Once they're lined up, he lets go and lifts his hips, fucking up by Carmy in slow and careful inches and watching himself do it over the curve of his shoulder. ]
[ Carmy isn't looking at first either, has his eyes closed as Richie manhandles him. ]
Like when you move me around.
[ Worth the embarrassment of admitting that gets him off if it means Richie does it more on purpose.
Carmy peeks up at them in the mirror, wraps a hand around his dick kinda self-consciously, shivering at the sight of himself splayed out over Richie, getting fucked. Squeezes himself hard as Richie pushes in, low noises punched out of him as his poor ass stretches for him again. It feels really good, like stretching an overworked hamstring.
Despite telling Richie to do all the work he does splay wider, put a foot flat on the mattress, muscular thigh going taut as he lifts his hips up off Richie until he feels the head at the rim, then drops back and takes him deep with a soft shout of a curse. Fumbles to find one of Richie's hands and hold it, wrap it around his torso, weight in his shoulderblades as he does it again. Eyes closing once more because if he watches himself lapdancing for Richie's cock he'll expire. ]
[ It's not entirely easy to deal with Carmy's weight half on top of him and the need to maintain the right angle to fuck his ass, but Richie's willing to put in the work, even if it means he'll spend the rest of the day bitching about his aching back. He keeps his hand spread wide over one impeccably crafted tit, and lifts his hips as Carmy grinds down, fucking him with deep skin-slapping thrusts. ]
Fuck, Carm. Carmen, open your fucking eyes. Look at how good this looks.
[ He wraps his other arm around Carmy and goes for it, hitches his heels into the bed so he can rabbit-fuck him hard and fast, watching Carmy's dick slap and bounce between his thighs. ]
[ Carmy, for once, does as he's fucking told, watches himself through the haze of his own lashes, this beautiful, masculine body that still sometimes doesn't feel like his own getting fucked, by Richie, everything right there on display. He feels hot - like, really hot, not just aware of his own muscles but like he's somehow managed to really become someone he wanted to be. A sense of warmth and achievement.
Though all that is knocked out of his head with the rest of his coherent thought when Richie starts to really go for it, and then he's just a hole, just pleasure and movements to chase more pleasure, just a warm hole for Richie to fuck. ]
Yeah - yeah.
[ Panting it, repeating it, getting louder and whinier as Richie really fucks him. When it gets just a little too much like this he shakes Richie off and sits up, keeping him inside as he swings his legs to be kneeling instead, kneeling-straddling, arching his back so Richie can see the bright pink rim of Carmy's hole stretching for him. Bounces a little testingly, looking up at the mirror to see the reaction, and then completely at odds with his promise to make Richie work for it he rides him hard, muscles working. Like this, controlling the pace, he's better at finding the plateau and just staying there, moaning and stupid, waiting for Richie to cream him. ]
[ Richie isn't any more coherent and getting worse, devolving into just raw animal sounds and pieces of words, oh fuh oh fuh nuzzled into Carmy's hair. He makes a noise of vague disappointment when Carmy sits up out of his arms, priorities in too many places at once -- ]
Hey, what -- oh. Shit.
[ As good as they looked in the mirror -- and they looked pretty fucking great -- this view is even better, the curve of Carmy's back arched for him. Richie puts his hand on him, wordless awe at the sight, thumb close to his hole where he can see his dick disappearing inside, then palms over the meat of his ass and puts his head back with a groan as Carmy starts bouncing on top of him. ]
Fuck, cousin. Fuck.
[ One hand on Carmy's foot, the other on his hip in a vague effort to keep him steady while he moves, rolls his hips like a pro, strikes exactly the right angle to drive Richie a little wild about it. It's just as good as he imagined, even better because he can hear Carmy's dick-drunk moaning and see the sweat on his skin and smell musk and sex in the air. Richie tries to help out, going up when Carmy comes down, and it's amazing and he wants to cum but it's not quite there, not quite enough. He growls, frustrated, close to the edge. ]
No, I gotta -- come on.
[ He heaves himself upwards and grabs at Carmy at the same time, not quite a wrestling move but close enough, pulling Carmy back down and rolling on top of him at the same time until he's either on his side or on his face but no matter because it means Richie can get at him him properly, snarling and feral, harsh fast fucking as his orgasm builds and builds, wanting more and wanting too much, until it hits like a freight train. He makes a raw kind of noise, a strangled yell, and fists his hand hard in Carmy's curls as he buries himself inside him and fills him in short sharp thrusts, once, twice, again. ]
[ Carmy gasps in shocked lungfuls of air that hitch back out of him in needy little noises, feeling like he's gone all to wet fucking pieces over Richie moving him like that, like it's nothing, like he's small and nothing, just a hole for him to use to get off.
It should be too much, given he was almost too chafed raw for round two, but he doesn't protest or wriggle away. Carmy buries his hot cheeks in the crook of his own elbow and grits his teeth and takes it, takes it, takes it. His cock is trapped between his thigh and the sheets, and around the moment he realizes Richie is doing that breeding hitch to really get his dick in there as he comes in Carmy - he can't feel it but he can imagine it, Richie flooding his insides. It drags a long groan out of him, and his dick is so fucking wet, and he's right up on the edge, wriggling his hips to kinda rub the head of his cock into the pre-slick fabric. He bites his own forearm so hard it draws blood and comes again, sobbing and panting and stupid.
Whites out for a little with it, just a crumpled tissue of a person for long moments, wet breaths, wet everything, Richie heavy behind him. At first he doesn't want him to pull out, or pull away, wishes they were face to face so he could wrap clutching arms and legs around him and keep this intimate connection so he wouldn't have to return alone into his own head. But that feeling only lasts so long, and then he abruptly needs his own space. ]
Don't pass out on me.
[ He wriggles out from under Richie, rolls messily across the mattress and tries to get up but feels like a baby giraffe with his limbs all useless. Ends up just sitting up, one hand over his forehead and into his hair, eyes unfocused and a little wild. ]
Cousin. I love you, but that was insane. That was insane, right? That was fucking- what the fuck is wrong with us.
[ Light laugher in his voice, glancing sideways at Richie. How is it so good with him? Disgusting, and exhausting, and viscerally good. His heart hurts. ]
[ That's about as much as Richie can contribute for a moment, breathing hard, his skull still ringing with the combination of the effort and his racing heartbeat. He stays lying on his back, looking vaguely up at the pink-washed guy in the mirror above him, trying to catch his breath again. ]
Fuck. [ He repeats it agreeably, ending on a dry smoker's cough that rattles him enough to make him twist around and prop himself up on an elbow until it clears. He's grinning, cum-drunk, when he looks over at Carmy. ]
You make me insane, cuz. That's what's fucking wrong. [ He flails out a hand, squeezes whatever part of Carmy it lands on -- his ankle or his calf or his thigh or whatever. ] Your fault for being so irresistible, jagoff.
[ Richie's gonna have to be okay with ass to mouth because Carmy's gonna inflict it on him now, pouncing on him to kiss him. Fucking boyfriends, kissing, this shit is unbelievably gay and insane. His eyes are still all crinkly when he pulls away a second time. He paps Richie's cheek twice as he goes. ]
You want some water, old man?
[ Carmy still feels clumsy high but he knows his legs will hold. His thighs are all slick at the top when he stands, balls and ass, but it's his turn to go do the after-sex fetch so he just towels down a little in the bathroom and comes back with water and a new damp cloth. It's Richie's turn to get it thrown directly at his face. But then Carmy hops right back on the bed, stretches out on his side, relaxing back into the mattress; he's gonna stick around for a while yet. ]
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microbasil) wrote2024-08-17 09:19 am
no subject
He watches Carmy and the lube with his eyebrows raised, holding his hand out of the way. ]
Yo, did you just drizzle me?
no subject
[ Not a no. He takes Richie's hand and brings it back to his dick, linking their fingers together. His other hand props his head up again so he can look between Richie's face and their hands on him. Probably the mirror view is pretty good too. ]
Easy nine, cousin. And you can't say I'm biased, I got external feedback and shit.
[ He tugs his own lower lip between his teeth. ]
You should fuck me again. Some more.
[ Practice makes perfect, and he's a perfectionist. Also, he thinks if they use enough lube it might hurt exactly perfectly for him to get off again and he's a spoiled brat sometimes so that's a contributing factor. ]
no subject
Heard, chef. [ Yeah, he's going to keep doing that. But also: ]
You want to get on top? See if you can ride it?
no subject
[ Being an asshole just because he still hates being called chef in the bedroom. One last crackling stroke and he leaves Richie to jerk himself off while Carmy lubes up his fingers and, trying to act casual about it, slips his hand back between his legs to slick himself. Hisses sharply, his own cock kicking harder as he fingers chafed and roughly-stretched hole. ]
Fuck.
no subject
Yeah, fuck.
[ Stroking himself off while he watches Carmy finger-fuck himself is a pretty great idea, actually, but Richie's getting greedy the more horny he becomes. He waves his free hand in a circle, like turn around for me. ]
Turn around, cuz. Come on, your turn.
no subject
[ He's been kind of accidentally edging Richie, so Carmy doesn't bother stringing this out with more argumentative bullshit trying to rile Richie up, just fucking does it. Pulls his fingers out with a heavy, shuddering exhale and drops onto his stomach and rolls into Richie, leaning back into him, all turned around. Though it wouldn't take any force for Richie to put him where he wants him, Carmy pliant in the service of getting what he wants.
When he speaks his voice is low and ragged. ]
Want you.
no subject
[ As if he's going to turn him down. In the end Richie just sort of rolls with it, literally, until Carmy is more or less on top of him, both of them looking up into the mirror -- or they will be, once Richie is done looking down to try and configure things. He slings an arm around Carmy and keeps his hand on his dick to more or less guide himself into the right place, letting Carmy do some of the work as well.
Once they're lined up, he lets go and lifts his hips, fucking up by Carmy in slow and careful inches and watching himself do it over the curve of his shoulder. ]
Fuck. We're so fucking hot, Carm.
no subject
Like when you move me around.
[ Worth the embarrassment of admitting that gets him off if it means Richie does it more on purpose.
Carmy peeks up at them in the mirror, wraps a hand around his dick kinda self-consciously, shivering at the sight of himself splayed out over Richie, getting fucked. Squeezes himself hard as Richie pushes in, low noises punched out of him as his poor ass stretches for him again. It feels really good, like stretching an overworked hamstring.
Despite telling Richie to do all the work he does splay wider, put a foot flat on the mattress, muscular thigh going taut as he lifts his hips up off Richie until he feels the head at the rim, then drops back and takes him deep with a soft shout of a curse. Fumbles to find one of Richie's hands and hold it, wrap it around his torso, weight in his shoulderblades as he does it again. Eyes closing once more because if he watches himself lapdancing for Richie's cock he'll expire. ]
no subject
[ It's not entirely easy to deal with Carmy's weight half on top of him and the need to maintain the right angle to fuck his ass, but Richie's willing to put in the work, even if it means he'll spend the rest of the day bitching about his aching back. He keeps his hand spread wide over one impeccably crafted tit, and lifts his hips as Carmy grinds down, fucking him with deep skin-slapping thrusts. ]
Fuck, Carm. Carmen, open your fucking eyes. Look at how good this looks.
[ He wraps his other arm around Carmy and goes for it, hitches his heels into the bed so he can rabbit-fuck him hard and fast, watching Carmy's dick slap and bounce between his thighs. ]
no subject
Though all that is knocked out of his head with the rest of his coherent thought when Richie starts to really go for it, and then he's just a hole, just pleasure and movements to chase more pleasure, just a warm hole for Richie to fuck. ]
Yeah - yeah.
[ Panting it, repeating it, getting louder and whinier as Richie really fucks him. When it gets just a little too much like this he shakes Richie off and sits up, keeping him inside as he swings his legs to be kneeling instead, kneeling-straddling, arching his back so Richie can see the bright pink rim of Carmy's hole stretching for him. Bounces a little testingly, looking up at the mirror to see the reaction, and then completely at odds with his promise to make Richie work for it he rides him hard, muscles working. Like this, controlling the pace, he's better at finding the plateau and just staying there, moaning and stupid, waiting for Richie to cream him. ]
no subject
[ Richie isn't any more coherent and getting worse, devolving into just raw animal sounds and pieces of words, oh fuh oh fuh nuzzled into Carmy's hair. He makes a noise of vague disappointment when Carmy sits up out of his arms, priorities in too many places at once -- ]
Hey, what -- oh. Shit.
[ As good as they looked in the mirror -- and they looked pretty fucking great -- this view is even better, the curve of Carmy's back arched for him. Richie puts his hand on him, wordless awe at the sight, thumb close to his hole where he can see his dick disappearing inside, then palms over the meat of his ass and puts his head back with a groan as Carmy starts bouncing on top of him. ]
Fuck, cousin. Fuck.
[ One hand on Carmy's foot, the other on his hip in a vague effort to keep him steady while he moves, rolls his hips like a pro, strikes exactly the right angle to drive Richie a little wild about it. It's just as good as he imagined, even better because he can hear Carmy's dick-drunk moaning and see the sweat on his skin and smell musk and sex in the air. Richie tries to help out, going up when Carmy comes down, and it's amazing and he wants to cum but it's not quite there, not quite enough. He growls, frustrated, close to the edge. ]
No, I gotta -- come on.
[ He heaves himself upwards and grabs at Carmy at the same time, not quite a wrestling move but close enough, pulling Carmy back down and rolling on top of him at the same time until he's either on his side or on his face but no matter because it means Richie can get at him him properly, snarling and feral, harsh fast fucking as his orgasm builds and builds, wanting more and wanting too much, until it hits like a freight train. He makes a raw kind of noise, a strangled yell, and fists his hand hard in Carmy's curls as he buries himself inside him and fills him in short sharp thrusts, once, twice, again. ]
no subject
It should be too much, given he was almost too chafed raw for round two, but he doesn't protest or wriggle away. Carmy buries his hot cheeks in the crook of his own elbow and grits his teeth and takes it, takes it, takes it. His cock is trapped between his thigh and the sheets, and around the moment he realizes Richie is doing that breeding hitch to really get his dick in there as he comes in Carmy - he can't feel it but he can imagine it, Richie flooding his insides. It drags a long groan out of him, and his dick is so fucking wet, and he's right up on the edge, wriggling his hips to kinda rub the head of his cock into the pre-slick fabric. He bites his own forearm so hard it draws blood and comes again, sobbing and panting and stupid.
Whites out for a little with it, just a crumpled tissue of a person for long moments, wet breaths, wet everything, Richie heavy behind him. At first he doesn't want him to pull out, or pull away, wishes they were face to face so he could wrap clutching arms and legs around him and keep this intimate connection so he wouldn't have to return alone into his own head. But that feeling only lasts so long, and then he abruptly needs his own space. ]
Don't pass out on me.
[ He wriggles out from under Richie, rolls messily across the mattress and tries to get up but feels like a baby giraffe with his limbs all useless. Ends up just sitting up, one hand over his forehead and into his hair, eyes unfocused and a little wild. ]
Cousin. I love you, but that was insane. That was insane, right? That was fucking- what the fuck is wrong with us.
[ Light laugher in his voice, glancing sideways at Richie. How is it so good with him? Disgusting, and exhausting, and viscerally good. His heart hurts. ]
no subject
[ That's about as much as Richie can contribute for a moment, breathing hard, his skull still ringing with the combination of the effort and his racing heartbeat. He stays lying on his back, looking vaguely up at the pink-washed guy in the mirror above him, trying to catch his breath again. ]
Fuck. [ He repeats it agreeably, ending on a dry smoker's cough that rattles him enough to make him twist around and prop himself up on an elbow until it clears. He's grinning, cum-drunk, when he looks over at Carmy. ]
You make me insane, cuz. That's what's fucking wrong. [ He flails out a hand, squeezes whatever part of Carmy it lands on -- his ankle or his calf or his thigh or whatever. ] Your fault for being so irresistible, jagoff.
no subject
You want some water, old man?
[ Carmy still feels clumsy high but he knows his legs will hold. His thighs are all slick at the top when he stands, balls and ass, but it's his turn to go do the after-sex fetch so he just towels down a little in the bathroom and comes back with water and a new damp cloth. It's Richie's turn to get it thrown directly at his face. But then Carmy hops right back on the bed, stretches out on his side, relaxing back into the mattress; he's gonna stick around for a while yet. ]