mathemagier | IC Contact Post

Which meant Newton wanted a good dozen modeled images for himself. But really, with Newton this close, how was he meant to resist? Was likely even planned this way, knowing he'd be slightly resistant to the idea.

He dipped his fingers under the hem of Newton's skirt.

"Despicable," he breathed against his lips, then pulled him into a kiss.

Of course he wanted some for himself. Could Hermann even blame him? You didn't marry a guy and NOT want sexy pictures of him all over your phone's gallery. Even when it was in cheesy costumes. If Will was going to give them ridiculous clothes, Newt was DEFINITELY going to make the most of it. And by make the most of it, he meant have sex in them.

Skirts were not really his thing, but if Newt had ever imagined himself cross-dressing, it was definitely as a Sailor Scout and the skirt was LOADS shorter. This was almost dowdy by comparison, though the skirt barely hit his knees, but there was still something erotic about the sight and implication of a hand sliding up a skirt that he really wanted to explore--why not?

His "whatever" in retort was lost into Hermann's mouth and Newt wiggled closer, encouraging Hermann's hand higher under the fabric.

Where normally his fingers would have met the hairs of Newton's thighs, instead they touched the silken slide of nylon. It was an unfamiliar sensation that made an otherwise ordinary occurrence feel new. Hermann hummed appreciation and brushed his thumb over the lacy underwear at Newton's hip.

He broke off the kiss to gauge the distance to the bed, then looked at Newton with a quirk of a smile.

"Lay down for me darling, I'm feeling rather ambitious."

Oh. Oh, please. His hips canted into the touch. How unexpectedly smooth the nylons made his legs feel as Hermann's skilled hand all but glided up over his skin. Newt shifted, squirmed, wanted Hermann's fingers under the hem of the underwear he didn't quite yet have access to.

The nylons were slightly less appealing in their restriction around his otherwise eager erection, but he could forgive them thanks to the way they pulled the lace tight against his skin, the foreign texture heightening the sensitivity.

Newt pulled away and moved to sit on the bed, propped up by their many pillows, legs swung up to extend out.

Ambitious. How was that word alone so suggestive? How could Hermann not realize that a simple purred, growled...spoken word from him was enough to get anyone's panties wet. He crossed his legs.

"Any way in particular?"

Hermann set his cane aside, then knelt carefully on the bed to join him. Quite a tantalizing view up Newton's skirt. Of course, it could be better, but he'd get there.

"Hm, legs flat if you don't mind."

Touching a knee, Hermann slid his hands up along the nylon and slowly shifted forward. Newton's skin was incredibly smooth and warm to the touch. Such flimsy material, however..

"Do you want these intact as well?"

"Oh, pushy pushy."

But he spread his legs apart a bit and thrilled as Hermann's hand slid its way upward again. It all had the touch of scandalous. Newt figured he looked pretty ridiculous in the nurse's outfit--a tattooed nerd in glasses and a frumpy halloween drag costume--but he felt like a sex bombshell, like there was nothing more captivating or ravishing and Hermann had to have him now.

"Uh." He considered the nylons as best he could while laying here, Hermann's hand on his thigh and his own brain thinking of little else but that hand disappearing up the skirt to do whatever it liked to him, out of his view. The nylons were probably replaceable. They could be sacrificed for the cause. Will would probably understand. And anyway. ...Anyway, he was hardly going to get in the way of Hermann's ambition.

"Everything here's all yours except the dress and the glasses."

All yours. Now didn't that sound wonderful?

Hermann smiled and worked his way up, hitching the front of Newton's skirt up as far as it would go and relishing in the bulge showing through his underthings. It was tempting to draw the elastic down, but more fun was the promise of Newton squirming in needy discomfort.

He leaned down, gaze flicking from Newton's eyes to his obviously uncomfortable erection and mouthed at the heat and odd combination of textures under his lips and tongue.

Newt gave a choked gasp and his hips jerked at Hermann's mouth, wanting more of it, the heat easily penetrating the thin fabrics to tease his erection already straining against the undergarments. His head went back against the pillows and he writhed a bit, noisily.

"...You're the worst," he whined in a tone that wasn't ever really a complaint, and he threw the front of the skirt over Hermann's head, draping him under the white cotton.

He hummed, perfectly pleased with himself as Newton writhed under his touch, thrilling in the way his husband's hips twitched rebellious against his steadying hands. As ever, lust surged through the Drift and stoked the flames of his own desire until he was panting with it and couldn't maintain Newton's torment.

He surfaced, smile breathless as he took in the needy expression lining his husband's face.

"..Well now, perhaps we should take these off."

His fingers dug into the elastic at Newton's waist and drew the nylons down. For all they were wet at the crotch area, he didn't intend to destroy them. But neither was he overly concerned about tearing the fabric.

"How well prepared are you..?"

"Oh thank god." The air was cold against the wet lace and the sudden change sent a shiver up Newt's spine. His erection stood proudly now beneath the pink lace and after the warm pressure of the nylons against his skin, he felt positively naked without them. He wiggled down into the sheets and enjoyed air up his skirt.

Newt tossed his glasses to the bedside table.

So, maybe he had some fun with a plug while waiting--not TOO much fun, but he hadn't exactly expected Hermann to be patient and if stretching beforehand meant Hermann could have his way with him sooner, and be more amenable to future costume-wearing plans, Newt was definitely all for it.

"Why don't you stick a few fingers in me and find out?"

It was an irresistible offer.

Hermann lifted Newton's skirt and tugged the crotch of the panties away from his skin. Sucking two fingers into his mouth, he lowered them between hairy thighs to do just that. The ring of muscle gave way easily, and lined with lube, his fingers slid in with relative ease.

Hot and slick, his fingers sank deep and he could almost feel it wrapped around him already. Hermann swallowed hard, pumping them in and out, stretching experimentally. Yes, yes, he was ready.

"C-condom?"

His fingers weren't nearly as thick as the plug Newt had played with earlier, and he wanted, needed, more in order to feel filled. But they were warm, and long and slender and so very dexterous as they moved inside him, rubbing, building towards but not giving release. Newt's hips jerked with each of Hermann's movements, trying to drive the motions deeper.

Hermann could never possibly understand how many fantasies involved those fingers alone. What gorgeous, terrible hands. They drove him to distraction in the subtlest ways.

"It was in the sailor hat. Probably fell out." He gestured to the bedside table, because if all else, Hermann could certainly find another there. Before Hermann could move away, though, Newt closed his hand around his husband's wrist and firmly pinned his hand there under the skirt, inside him. He met Hermann's eyes, breathless, flushed, and thrust against Hermann's hand. "Kiss me first."

Hermann stared, taking a few moments to work out how to move in order to fulfill that wish with his wrist held captive. He shifted forward with care and braced his arm next to Newton's head, then dipped his head down in a kiss.

His trapped fingers pressed deep, until knuckles and thumb indented Newton's skin. So warm and supple he could spend hours just doing this if only his patience was eternal.

He drew back with a smirk. "Should I leave my clothes on then?"

He released Hermann's wrist as he pulled back from the kiss and Newt squirmed, flushed, on the sheets, anxious for more.

"Fuck yes." As much as he loved Hermann's body and bare skin, he didn't want to wait. Sex immediately after their wedding had been more slow and tender than Newt would have anticipated (but then he was very much to blame for that, too--he wanted to make love to Hermann), not that he was complaining. But urgent, raunchy, debauched...that was fun too, and this kind of thing seemed to prove effective at persuading Hermann.

He straightened out the costume a bit.

"Unless I'm just that resistable."

His fingers came out, slow and with far more care than necessary. Felt Newton's muscles tightening around him as he went. Hermann exhaled a steadying breath. Watching Newton squirm, feeling echoes of his desire and frustration- all lurid desperation and temptation, 'resistable' was far from an apt descriptor.

Hermann sat back and let his lube-slick fingers slide along Newton's bare legs, then finally started work on his belt and pants. Which position would be easier, he wondered.

"Hm, on your knees then, I think. It will help if I can lean against you a bit."

His fingers dragged a long groan from Newt's throat as they eased out. The air cooled the tendrils of lube trailed down Newt's legs and along the tight ring of muscle left pliant and needy with the absence of Hermann's hand. He wanted to be filled to his breaking point, spread open and stuffed with Hermann--or anything, a desperate part of him screamed--until every movement rubbed and stirred something inside him. And he wanted to just lie there on the brink of coming, harder than hell tortured by his own want and impatience.

Now, however, he had more urgent plans, and the sound of Hermann's zipper raking down its metal teeth was like the slow withdrawal of his fingers. Newt rolled onto his knees, fixed the panties and skirt, and braced a hand on the headboard.

He wiggled his ass, inviting Hermann to hurry, enjoying the swish of fabric just barely against the tip of his erection.

It was a good look for Newton- not one he got to enjoy from this side often enough. His body would not thank him for this tomorrow, but how could he possibly resist?

Hermann drew himself out, wrestling a bit with his underwear to stay out of the way, then flipped the back of Newton's skirt up. He drew the panties mid-way down Newton's thighs and squeezed handfuls of his wiggling hips.

"I'm extremely tempted not to use a condom," he confessed, wrapping fingers around himself. "You've stretched yourself very well by the looks of it; the risk of tearing should be rather minimal.."

Barebacking was not something they did very often, despite clean bills of health. It came with its own risks, of course, but what risks Newt himself couldn't offset, he could certainly expect the nanites would take care of, if Hermann did care to indulge.

It was also rare to be on his knees like this for Hermann. Usually he was riding Hermann's dick from a position on top of him, or he was topping, so Newt was eager to take as many opportunities to explore this as possible. He felt dirty in a good way, even if he was sure he looked more like a parody of a hentai manga he once read. Still, though he was no heroine about to get penetrated by tentacles, he was good enough porn for Hermann to get it up. (Porn, huh? Maybe someday he could convince Hermann to make a sex tape with him. It wasn't a smart idea, but it was a good one.)

"Can't resist this fine bod? Need I remind you, Hermann--except the dress and the glasses, everything you see here is yours to use as you please." He braced the other had on the headboard and arched his back invitingly. "Say the word and I'll shut off my powers."

Times like this left him wondering what he'd ever done to deserve this. Newton, donning a nurse's uniform and posing for him, offering himself up to whatever mercies he chose to give. So unimaginable only a year and a half ago.

Hermann eased himself up and slid his hands up to Newton's waist, then under his blouse and along his stomach up to his chest, leaning further over him as he went. His hips came flush with Newton's ass, bare cock rubbing up against his slick skin but not yet penetrating.

The Drift, or a condom..? Really there was only one option when they were already this close.

"Yes, yes, all right, turn your suppressor on. We'll do this.."

Not to mention it was also just that bit more exciting.

Hermann's kinkiness never failed to surprise him; the fact that a very-much-married-to-him Newt--who was, he could admit, not a terribly attractive man in the first place--in a skirt and ladies' underwear, on his knees, willing and offering and ready to go, was what did it for Hermann...that was probably the most surprising of all.

Other still surprising topics Newt intended to mull over when he wasn't otherwise occupied with Hermann's dick:
A) Considering ...everything, how the hell did they manage to keep their hands off each other before this past year?
B) How was it Hermann could inspire the dirtiest, kinkiest, most obsessive things and still make him feel so warm and pleasant and downright domestic?

He smirked and switched on the bracelet. In the instant, Hermann's presence vanished from his brain, leaving an emptiness and silence where he had been, his lust and thoughts no longer stirring with and mingling in Newt's own.

It was all his own now--the thrill of Hermann poised to take him...desire heavy in his gut...love, strong, unconditional love--all of it was purely Newt's own feelings. That never ceased to be reassuring; Hermann occupied his thoughts almost entirely, even when he wasn't actually IN Newt's brain.

He ground back into Hermann's hips. "I should've given you a lap dance."

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