Part 2 “Sod the Persian! It will be fine and you know it.” Sirius made a show of pulling his cock out slowly. Remus got to his feet, standing stock still, lips parted, breath coming in quick, light pants. Sirius, cock in hand, looked directly at Remus. “You coming to get this or am I just going to make a mess of the Persian?”
Remus whimpered a small protest, but that didn’t stop him from crossing to Sirius. Sirius was surprised when Remus sunk to his knees in front of him. This wasn’t how they usually did this.
“I – I’ve always wanted to feel it soaking into my clothes,” he explained. His head was bowed, cheeks burning with crimson shame.
“Then look at me.” Sirius gentled his voice, knowing how hard it was for Remus to admit to this. They never spoke of it. Usually Sirius found himself pushed against the shower stall, both of them nude as they covered each other in piss and then wanked. Then they showered in deafening silence and went to bed without a word. This was completely new territory.
Remus eventually turned his head up, but his eyes were focused on a point over Sirius’ left shoulder. Sirius tsk’d and with a finger, turned Remus’ face to meet his eyes.
“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want my piss soaking through your clothes. Tell me you want to wank while I piss on every inch of you.”
“Yes,” whispered Remus. Sirius knew it was all he could manage. His cock was starting fill with anticipation and need. He would have to get this started before he simply couldn’t.
He took a step closer to Remus and held his cock just under Remus chin. Their eyes were locked on each other and Remus was trembling. Sirius smiled and let go. Remus gasped as Sirius’ piss flowed down his neck and into his shirt. Sirius heard soft metal sounds as Remus opened his trousers and then the slapping of flesh against flesh.
Sirius stepped back to watch. Remus was gorgeous, his white shirt stained with yellow just below the collar. He was gorgeous. Between his spread legs, Remus was wanking furiously. He clearly had no desire to hold off on anything. Sirius aimed his stream down Remus’ body, yellow zigzags crisscrossing the white oxford, down, down until Sirius found Remus’ cock. That was all it took for Remus to lose control. He came with a shout of Sirius’ name and then slumped down in post-orgasmic lassitude.
Sirius gently ran fingers through Remus’ hair, a reassurance that there was nothing wrong with this sort of play. Remus pulled Sirius hand down and kissed the palm. “Thank you,” he whispered, over and over.
Sirius sunk to his knees in front of Remus and pulled him in for a kiss. Remus’ lips were slow against his at first, then increasing in urgency. Sirius was suddenly hauled to his feet, the strength afforded to Remus by the wolf always surprising.
“Bathroom,” said Remus, his voice authoritative. “I’m not making a mess on the Persian.”
Sirius let himself be pushed forward, throwing a wicked grin over his shoulder.
“And before we go to bed,” continued Remus, “you’re cleaning up that mess you made.”
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Re: Not on the Persian! 2/2
Date: 2011-01-15 09:24 pm (UTC)“Sod the Persian! It will be fine and you know it.” Sirius made a show of pulling his cock out slowly. Remus got to his feet, standing stock still, lips parted, breath coming in quick, light pants. Sirius, cock in hand, looked directly at Remus. “You coming to get this or am I just going to make a mess of the Persian?”
Remus whimpered a small protest, but that didn’t stop him from crossing to Sirius. Sirius was surprised when Remus sunk to his knees in front of him. This wasn’t how they usually did this.
“I – I’ve always wanted to feel it soaking into my clothes,” he explained. His head was bowed, cheeks burning with crimson shame.
“Then look at me.” Sirius gentled his voice, knowing how hard it was for Remus to admit to this. They never spoke of it. Usually Sirius found himself pushed against the shower stall, both of them nude as they covered each other in piss and then wanked. Then they showered in deafening silence and went to bed without a word. This was completely new territory.
Remus eventually turned his head up, but his eyes were focused on a point over Sirius’ left shoulder. Sirius tsk’d and with a finger, turned Remus’ face to meet his eyes.
“Tell me you want it. Tell me you want my piss soaking through your clothes. Tell me you want to wank while I piss on every inch of you.”
“Yes,” whispered Remus. Sirius knew it was all he could manage. His cock was starting fill with anticipation and need. He would have to get this started before he simply couldn’t.
He took a step closer to Remus and held his cock just under Remus chin. Their eyes were locked on each other and Remus was trembling. Sirius smiled and let go. Remus gasped as Sirius’ piss flowed down his neck and into his shirt. Sirius heard soft metal sounds as Remus opened his trousers and then the slapping of flesh against flesh.
Sirius stepped back to watch. Remus was gorgeous, his white shirt stained with yellow just below the collar. He was gorgeous. Between his spread legs, Remus was wanking furiously. He clearly had no desire to hold off on anything. Sirius aimed his stream down Remus’ body, yellow zigzags crisscrossing the white oxford, down, down until Sirius found Remus’ cock. That was all it took for Remus to lose control. He came with a shout of Sirius’ name and then slumped down in post-orgasmic lassitude.
Sirius gently ran fingers through Remus’ hair, a reassurance that there was nothing wrong with this sort of play. Remus pulled Sirius hand down and kissed the palm. “Thank you,” he whispered, over and over.
Sirius sunk to his knees in front of Remus and pulled him in for a kiss. Remus’ lips were slow against his at first, then increasing in urgency. Sirius was suddenly hauled to his feet, the strength afforded to Remus by the wolf always surprising.
“Bathroom,” said Remus, his voice authoritative. “I’m not making a mess on the Persian.”
Sirius let himself be pushed forward, throwing a wicked grin over his shoulder.
“And before we go to bed,” continued Remus, “you’re cleaning up that mess you made.”