mathemagier | IC Contact Post

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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