(no subject)
Title: Amazing What a .50-Caliber Can Do
Author: atrocious_x
Band: Avenged Sevenfold
Pairing: Synyster // Matt
Rating: NC17
Summary: [PWP]. "Go on," I said, "Don't be shy." Amazing what a .50-caliber did.
Disclaimer: Not real, dur.
Amazing What a .50-Caliber Can Do
((Brian's POV))
I watched as he slid into the driver's seat of the car, completely oblivious to anything else going on around him, and I swiftly made my way towards the black Camaro. I crept around to the passenger side door, and would've mentally cheered in triumph at how the door was unlocked, had it not been for the way the engine revved as the car started. Whipping my .50-caliber revolver from the spot I kept it -- in the back waistband of my jeans, hidden underneath my tee shirt -- I yanked open the door, and all but threw myself into the car. He cursed, he had a tough voice, this would be fun.
I quickly aimed it at him with one hand, half-smirking at him as I pulled the door shut. His hazel eyes flickered to the gun, but then remained on mine -- it was somewhat exciting to say that the fear was minimal. I wouldn't have wanted him to start whining and pleading for his life.
"What do you want?" he asked, tone considerably low, considering when he'd yelled 'what the fuck' not too long ago, he'd been on the verge of yelling.
"I want you to drive me somewhere," I said, words leaving my mouth slowly as if I thought he'd have trouble understanding me. "Head towards route 50, and I'll tell you where to go from there."
He stared at me for a long time, and finally, with another look at the revolver, he shifted gears, and started to pull out of the parking spot. I kept my gun trained on him, and threw a quick glance out the window, hoping no one had seen me. It was almost midnight, but you could never be too sure.
As he drove, he kept his eyes pointed straight ahead of him, and he seemed to ignore me as I sat, facing him with the gun aimed expertly. One of those moments where you think: Maybe if I ignore it long enough, it'll go away. This thought for some reason, kept the smirk on my face, and I could feel a sense of excitement washing over me.
"There." I said after a moment, pointing to the left of us with one hand. There was a small dirt road, one of the ones that was supposedly a shortcut, but was rarely used because of all the fallen logs, potholes, or Hell, people were just scared of driving into a clump of trees. "Go down that road."
He obliged, turning the wheel swiftly after he'd checked to make sure there were no other cars around. Things couldn't have gotten any more perfect.
"How far?" he asked quietly.
I paused thoughtfully. "Just keep going until I tell you to stop."
The clock in his car was broken, obviously by the way it'd been on 3:30 PM since I'd gotten in, so I didn't know how long we drove down that road, but I was starting to get impatient. Why had I chosen some place so far? As if on cue, we reached a clearing, and my smirk returned.
"Stop." I said, and he pulled the Camaro to a halt. I held out my free hand. "Give me the keys."
His head turned to me, and his hazel eyes burned into my brown for another moment, and I could practically see the questions brewing in his mind.
"Now." I said, my word barely audible because of my dangerous tone.
He rolled his eyes and pulled the keys from the ignition, before holding them out to be. I snatched them from his large hand, and balled them in my fist, reaching behind me with that hand to grab the door handle. I kept the gun aimed at him as I opened it, and the sound of crickets chirping hit my ears full blast, as warm night air flowed into the car. I climbed out, and shut the door, shoving the keys into the back pocket of my jeans as I started around the back end of the car. My shoes crunched in the dirt and gravel, and when I reached his door, I paused for a moment to just work myself up. It'd been a while since I'd done something like this. It was very exciting, to say the least.
I pulled open his door, revolver immediately trained on him, and he held his hands up weakly. I told him to get out, before stepping back slightly, though still aiming. He slowly turned in the seat, and I watched as he climbed from the car, hands still in the air.
"Shut the door." I said.
And he did. It was magnificent the kind of things you could do with a gun. I took this time to look over his body now -- the pale moon was offering just enough light. Now, I considered myself a well built guy, I had a thick frame, strong arms. But he was taller than me, and definitely much larger. He was wearing a black tee shirt, clinging to his body in the most suggestive way, and I could practically see his muscles underneath both the thin material and his skin, flexing as he kept his arms up. He was a man that I wouldn't have been able to take on, had it not been for my .50-caliber.
"How much do you value your life?" I asked suddenly.
He was silent for a moment. "Is this a trick question?" he finally asked, his tone was indifferent. Indifferent. This was so exciting.
"No, I'm just looking for an answer." I said. "I mean, would you kill someone else if that meant you living?"
He thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess it depends on the person I was asked to kill."
I nodded. "Would you...pay someone a shitload of money if it meant you living?" I asked.
Another pause, and he gave a slow nod. "Maybe." he answered.
"Would you..." I looked away for a moment, pretending to be thinking. "Oh, I don't know, suck another guy's cock?" I grinned to myself when I looked back at him and saw the look on his face. The _expression was one of shock, and something else I couldn't place. "How about let another man fuck you?" I went on. "If it meant you living."
I watched as his eyes slowly moved over my body, but he didn't answer -- whether or not it was because he couldn't or simply wouldn't, I didn't know. My free hand moved to the belts I was wearing, and as I undid them quickly, I kept the gun pointed at him. He watched my hand movements for a moment, but when the belts were both undone, he looked away. His arms had fallen back to his sides, a sign that he knew what he had to do to not get shot, and I watched his shoulders move as he took a deep breath. Oh yeah, he knew.
"Come here." I said, popping the button of my jeans, still able to accomplish what I wanted with my one free hand, as the other aimed the revolver.
He followed my command, slowly taking almost hesitant steps towards me, and he stopped about three feet away. I was smirking at him, my gaze never leaving his, and I pulled the zipper of my pants down in one quick movement. My already hard cock, not having to deal with any type of undergarment, pressed heavily against the denim, and all I had to do was shift the material around before it came out on its own. His eyes wandered over it briefly.
"What's your name?" I asked.
He didn't answer for a long time, but finally he gave a small, almost silent sigh. "Matt."
"Cute." I replied, smirk growing. Then I gestured with the gun, pointing it down towards my crotch and back at him.
I didn't have to say anything, and I watched as he slowly got to his knees in front of me. He looked up at me, and I couldn't read the expression on his face, so instead I just pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple, smirking down at him.
"Go on." I said. "Don't be shy."
Amazing what a .50-caliber did. He tentatively placed his hands on the sides of my thighs, the better to balance himself, and I ran my free hand through his slicked back hair, lightly pushing him forward. I couldn't help but watch as his lips wrapped around the head of my throbbing erection. I held my breath as he moved slowly forward, swallowing my full length on one go, his single lip ring adding a weird, but nice sensation.
"Hm," I said, grinning to myself again. "Looks like you've done this before."
He pulled his head back slowly, and I felt a shudder pass through my body at how my cock had had to leave his warm mouth, and was now chilled in the night air, traces of saliva gleaming in the dull light. His lips slid down my dick again, and I felt his cringe as he took it a little too much, the head just barely gagging him. I made a noise in the back of my throat, a contemplative yet content sigh-like noise, and from then on, his movements sped up.
Keeping his hands on my thighs, he continued to move his head back and forth, lips stretching over the impressive width of my cock. His teeth graced my skin a few times, and I pushed the barrel of the revolver into his head a little firmly, telling him that he better watch his actions. That was all it took, and he returned to his good behavior, just doing what he seemingly, was very good at.
After another moment of him doing most of the work, I felt my pleasure start to build up, and my hips started to roll forwards, thrusting my cock down his throat more as he moved towards me. Tangling my fingers into his surprisingly soft hair, I held him pretty much in place, and began pushing my dick in and out of his warm mouth. He sat there, just letting me do it, and every now and then he'd give a small noise from my cock hitting the back of his throat, sending sensational vibrations rattling down my shaft.
Before the pleasure could get to be too much, I somehow caught myself, and stopped. Pulling my pulsing dick from his lips, I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain myself, before I pulled him almost harshly by his hair, telling him to get up. He obeyed, and I pushed him towards the Camaro. He turned when he reached it, backed against the driver's side door, and before he could even realize what was happening, I grabbed him by the hair again, and held him there as I roughly pressed my lips against his.
And that's when I could feel something prodding me in the hip. Keeping my hand in his hair, and the revolver still aimed at his face, I lowered my gaze. I smirked at my discovery, and looked back up at him.
"Enjoying this?" I asked huskily.
He nodded, hazel eyes never leaving mine. I almost gave a groan just at how perfect this situation had been so far. I leaned into his erection, getting a sharp intake of air from him, and my smirk turned into a grin.
"That's alright," I replied. "It's always so much better when they do."
I firmly kissed him again, shoving my tongue between his lips, and just like that it was an animalistic fever that had stirred between us. His hips pushed forwards, away from the car, and I was rolling mine forwards, enjoying not only the feeling of his hard cock against mine, but the feeling of the denim that still covered his.
His hands slid between our bodies and his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, as his tongue moved sensually against mine. Though he'd warmed up to me considerably, I kept the revolver trained on him; he ignored it. He'd gotten his belt undone, but he seemed to be having problems with his zipper, so I let go of his hair, and moved my hand down to his fly, shooing his hands away. With one swift movement, I pulled the zipper down quickly. He broke the kiss to take in a few gulps of air, and I grinned at him, taking a step back with the gun still aimed at him.
"Turn around." I demanded.
He studied me for a moment, but slowly started to face the car. My excitement grew -- I was about to dominate this big, powerful man. I moved closer to him again, grabbing his pants with my free hand. I pressed my lips against the back of his neck, pleased to feel how relaxed his body was. His hands were on the roof of the Camaro, and his hips were pushed out towards me -- perfect. Biting his neck, I used one of my legs to push his further apart; upon which I pulled his pants down over his ass, just enough to bare it. Almost unable to contain myself, I quickly put two of my fingers into my mouth, and got them wet with my saliva. Then I reached down, and quickly found his hole, roughly pushing my fingers inside of him, and he gave a quick breath, lower body moving forward slightly.
"Mmm." I said into his ear, following his movements until he was pushed up against the car more. "Tighter than I thought."
I pulled his earlobe into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth as I pushed my fingers deeply into his ass. A noise escaped him as I quickly scissored my fingers, and then twisted them slightly. I let out my own noise, as my cock had started to ache from the lack of attention being paid to it. After another finger thrust, I pulled them out of him, and looked down at my hard dick. Instead of wasting time with the whole spitting in my hand process, I spit at my cock, having to do so more than once, but easily getting the top half of my cock covered; in no time I was lining myself up. I grabbed his waist with my free hand, and I held him steady as I guided my hips forward towards his.
When the head of my cock pressed against his ass hole, he tensed slightly. I kissed the back of his neck hungrily, and he relaxed shortly; oh yeah, he'd done this before. Without warning, I thrust my dick into him. He grunted as he was roughly pushed up against the car, but that was his only protest. I squeezed his hip forcefully, starting to pull my cock from him, and letting a groan escape me. Not only was he tight, but even his ass had muscles -- firm muscles that clenched at my cock instinctively.
I pushed into him again, burying my dick completely inside of him. I grunted at the effort, and he took a few deep breaths. I moved my hand up to his hair again, combing my fingers through it, and pulling sharply. A noise escaped him, and I moaned, suddenly wishing I'd taken his shirt off.
I quickened my hip movements, giving a harsh thrust into him, and hitting his prostate dead on.
"Fuck." he said with a soft growl.
I groaned, biting the back of his neck again, vaguely reminding myself of the way male cats do the same to a female. I drove my dick completely inside of him again, narrowly avoiding his spot on purpose this time. He made a small noise, trying to maneuver his hips the right way. I lightly pressed the .50-caliber against his temple again, though he didn't seem afraid of it at all anymore.
"My pleasure comes first." I said in a low tone, "You can worry about yourself later."
I gave another violent thrust into him, my cock aided by the little bit of blood that naturally came from his body, and again I ignored his prostate. Another short noise from him, but his hips stayed still. I grinned to myself once more, amazed by the power of a .50-caliber.
A low groan came from my chest, and I squeezed his hip again as I thrust into him. This time I let myself hit his spot, and he gave a moan, hips moving backwards to meet mine. I let out a sigh, dropping my forehead onto his shoulder. He'd started to sweat, and I could feel it through his tee shirt. My cock sharply jabbed his prostate again, and something I could only call a whimper emitted from his lips, leading me to groan again. There was just something about the whimper of a big, powerful man.
On my next thrust, my movements became less controlled as I could already feel my orgasm approaching. I pulled his hips away from the Camaro, pulling him towards me as I pushed my cock into him deeply, hitting his prostate once more. He groaned again, reaching down with one hand to grab his own cock -- the reason I'd moved him away from the car. His hand movements were quick and jerky, out of tune with my thrusting, and he cocked his head to the side slightly, letting out another noise. I quickly attacked the part of his neck he'd exposed with my lips, biting softly as my dick slid in and out of him in a clumsy rhythm.
After a particular thrust, I felt like I was on the brink of exploding. My back stiffened up, and as I pushed my cock into him again, my orgasm finally hit me. I groaned, biting down on a soft spot of his neck. He winced but groaned as well. I rolled my hips forward as I came, my load emptying into his ass, and just as I was finishing, his body tensed as well; he came into his hand with an almost shudder. A few moments passed before I pulled my cock out of him and quickly put it back into my pants, buttoning and zipping them. I pulled off my shirt, swinging it over my shoulder as if I was carrying a bag or something -- the sweat had been making it stick to my body in a most irritating way -- next time I'd definitely have to remember to take it off. Matt turned to the car, opening the door while he lightly held his pants up with one hand. He reached into his car, and felt around on the floor for a moment, before producing a crumpled napkin. I reached up with my revolver and scratched the back of my head with the barrel, watching, amused, as he wiped his hand clean.
"And best male performance goes to..." he said, turning to me with a grin. "Brian Haner Jr."
I grinned and neared him as he dropped the napkin. He leaned against the car in an almost seductive manner.
"Not too bad yourself." I replied, leaning in and giving him a light kiss on the lips.
His grin grew, and I put the gun against my hip, holding it there with my elbow as I reached down to button his jeans. He watched me and was silent until I'd zipped them as well.
"Part of me was scared that you had that thing loaded." he said, with a gesture to the .50-caliber.
"Nah," I said with a laugh, grabbing it, and pointing it off into the woods somewhere. "I'd never chance that."
I pulled the trigger, and an empty click sounded. I threw another grin at him, and he raised his arms, opening them for me. I pulled him into a hug, and he bit at my jaw bone playfully, tugging at my skin.
"We should do this again," he said. "And maybe we can switch roles."
"Hmm," I said as we separated. "Definitely not."
He rolled his eyes, and I grinned before lightly swatting at his ass, my movements telling him to walk around the car.
"Why not?" he asked, obliging and walking around the back end of the Camaro.
"Because you aren't touching my guns." I said shortly, pulling the car keys from my pocket.
"I'll use a knife." he said, glancing at me over the top of the car.
"Haha no," I said, and we slid into our seats.
He gave a sigh, and I started the car.
"You're an ass, you know that?" he asked. "I bet Johnny would let me fuck him."
"Do so and I'll make sure this thing is loaded next time." I said jokingly, setting the gun in my lap.
"Alright, alright." he said quickly, smirking. "I apologize."
I shot him a quick grin before shifting gears. Amazing what a .50-caliber did.
So yeah, they were obviously role-playing.
Reviews would make my day so much better.
Author: atrocious_x
Band: Avenged Sevenfold
Pairing: Synyster // Matt
Rating: NC17
Summary: [PWP]. "Go on," I said, "Don't be shy." Amazing what a .50-caliber did.
Disclaimer: Not real, dur.
Amazing What a .50-Caliber Can Do
((Brian's POV))
I watched as he slid into the driver's seat of the car, completely oblivious to anything else going on around him, and I swiftly made my way towards the black Camaro. I crept around to the passenger side door, and would've mentally cheered in triumph at how the door was unlocked, had it not been for the way the engine revved as the car started. Whipping my .50-caliber revolver from the spot I kept it -- in the back waistband of my jeans, hidden underneath my tee shirt -- I yanked open the door, and all but threw myself into the car. He cursed, he had a tough voice, this would be fun.
I quickly aimed it at him with one hand, half-smirking at him as I pulled the door shut. His hazel eyes flickered to the gun, but then remained on mine -- it was somewhat exciting to say that the fear was minimal. I wouldn't have wanted him to start whining and pleading for his life.
"What do you want?" he asked, tone considerably low, considering when he'd yelled 'what the fuck' not too long ago, he'd been on the verge of yelling.
"I want you to drive me somewhere," I said, words leaving my mouth slowly as if I thought he'd have trouble understanding me. "Head towards route 50, and I'll tell you where to go from there."
He stared at me for a long time, and finally, with another look at the revolver, he shifted gears, and started to pull out of the parking spot. I kept my gun trained on him, and threw a quick glance out the window, hoping no one had seen me. It was almost midnight, but you could never be too sure.
As he drove, he kept his eyes pointed straight ahead of him, and he seemed to ignore me as I sat, facing him with the gun aimed expertly. One of those moments where you think: Maybe if I ignore it long enough, it'll go away. This thought for some reason, kept the smirk on my face, and I could feel a sense of excitement washing over me.
"There." I said after a moment, pointing to the left of us with one hand. There was a small dirt road, one of the ones that was supposedly a shortcut, but was rarely used because of all the fallen logs, potholes, or Hell, people were just scared of driving into a clump of trees. "Go down that road."
He obliged, turning the wheel swiftly after he'd checked to make sure there were no other cars around. Things couldn't have gotten any more perfect.
"How far?" he asked quietly.
I paused thoughtfully. "Just keep going until I tell you to stop."
The clock in his car was broken, obviously by the way it'd been on 3:30 PM since I'd gotten in, so I didn't know how long we drove down that road, but I was starting to get impatient. Why had I chosen some place so far? As if on cue, we reached a clearing, and my smirk returned.
"Stop." I said, and he pulled the Camaro to a halt. I held out my free hand. "Give me the keys."
His head turned to me, and his hazel eyes burned into my brown for another moment, and I could practically see the questions brewing in his mind.
"Now." I said, my word barely audible because of my dangerous tone.
He rolled his eyes and pulled the keys from the ignition, before holding them out to be. I snatched them from his large hand, and balled them in my fist, reaching behind me with that hand to grab the door handle. I kept the gun aimed at him as I opened it, and the sound of crickets chirping hit my ears full blast, as warm night air flowed into the car. I climbed out, and shut the door, shoving the keys into the back pocket of my jeans as I started around the back end of the car. My shoes crunched in the dirt and gravel, and when I reached his door, I paused for a moment to just work myself up. It'd been a while since I'd done something like this. It was very exciting, to say the least.
I pulled open his door, revolver immediately trained on him, and he held his hands up weakly. I told him to get out, before stepping back slightly, though still aiming. He slowly turned in the seat, and I watched as he climbed from the car, hands still in the air.
"Shut the door." I said.
And he did. It was magnificent the kind of things you could do with a gun. I took this time to look over his body now -- the pale moon was offering just enough light. Now, I considered myself a well built guy, I had a thick frame, strong arms. But he was taller than me, and definitely much larger. He was wearing a black tee shirt, clinging to his body in the most suggestive way, and I could practically see his muscles underneath both the thin material and his skin, flexing as he kept his arms up. He was a man that I wouldn't have been able to take on, had it not been for my .50-caliber.
"How much do you value your life?" I asked suddenly.
He was silent for a moment. "Is this a trick question?" he finally asked, his tone was indifferent. Indifferent. This was so exciting.
"No, I'm just looking for an answer." I said. "I mean, would you kill someone else if that meant you living?"
He thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess it depends on the person I was asked to kill."
I nodded. "Would you...pay someone a shitload of money if it meant you living?" I asked.
Another pause, and he gave a slow nod. "Maybe." he answered.
"Would you..." I looked away for a moment, pretending to be thinking. "Oh, I don't know, suck another guy's cock?" I grinned to myself when I looked back at him and saw the look on his face. The _expression was one of shock, and something else I couldn't place. "How about let another man fuck you?" I went on. "If it meant you living."
I watched as his eyes slowly moved over my body, but he didn't answer -- whether or not it was because he couldn't or simply wouldn't, I didn't know. My free hand moved to the belts I was wearing, and as I undid them quickly, I kept the gun pointed at him. He watched my hand movements for a moment, but when the belts were both undone, he looked away. His arms had fallen back to his sides, a sign that he knew what he had to do to not get shot, and I watched his shoulders move as he took a deep breath. Oh yeah, he knew.
"Come here." I said, popping the button of my jeans, still able to accomplish what I wanted with my one free hand, as the other aimed the revolver.
He followed my command, slowly taking almost hesitant steps towards me, and he stopped about three feet away. I was smirking at him, my gaze never leaving his, and I pulled the zipper of my pants down in one quick movement. My already hard cock, not having to deal with any type of undergarment, pressed heavily against the denim, and all I had to do was shift the material around before it came out on its own. His eyes wandered over it briefly.
"What's your name?" I asked.
He didn't answer for a long time, but finally he gave a small, almost silent sigh. "Matt."
"Cute." I replied, smirk growing. Then I gestured with the gun, pointing it down towards my crotch and back at him.
I didn't have to say anything, and I watched as he slowly got to his knees in front of me. He looked up at me, and I couldn't read the expression on his face, so instead I just pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple, smirking down at him.
"Go on." I said. "Don't be shy."
Amazing what a .50-caliber did. He tentatively placed his hands on the sides of my thighs, the better to balance himself, and I ran my free hand through his slicked back hair, lightly pushing him forward. I couldn't help but watch as his lips wrapped around the head of my throbbing erection. I held my breath as he moved slowly forward, swallowing my full length on one go, his single lip ring adding a weird, but nice sensation.
"Hm," I said, grinning to myself again. "Looks like you've done this before."
He pulled his head back slowly, and I felt a shudder pass through my body at how my cock had had to leave his warm mouth, and was now chilled in the night air, traces of saliva gleaming in the dull light. His lips slid down my dick again, and I felt his cringe as he took it a little too much, the head just barely gagging him. I made a noise in the back of my throat, a contemplative yet content sigh-like noise, and from then on, his movements sped up.
Keeping his hands on my thighs, he continued to move his head back and forth, lips stretching over the impressive width of my cock. His teeth graced my skin a few times, and I pushed the barrel of the revolver into his head a little firmly, telling him that he better watch his actions. That was all it took, and he returned to his good behavior, just doing what he seemingly, was very good at.
After another moment of him doing most of the work, I felt my pleasure start to build up, and my hips started to roll forwards, thrusting my cock down his throat more as he moved towards me. Tangling my fingers into his surprisingly soft hair, I held him pretty much in place, and began pushing my dick in and out of his warm mouth. He sat there, just letting me do it, and every now and then he'd give a small noise from my cock hitting the back of his throat, sending sensational vibrations rattling down my shaft.
Before the pleasure could get to be too much, I somehow caught myself, and stopped. Pulling my pulsing dick from his lips, I took a few deep breaths, trying to regain myself, before I pulled him almost harshly by his hair, telling him to get up. He obeyed, and I pushed him towards the Camaro. He turned when he reached it, backed against the driver's side door, and before he could even realize what was happening, I grabbed him by the hair again, and held him there as I roughly pressed my lips against his.
And that's when I could feel something prodding me in the hip. Keeping my hand in his hair, and the revolver still aimed at his face, I lowered my gaze. I smirked at my discovery, and looked back up at him.
"Enjoying this?" I asked huskily.
He nodded, hazel eyes never leaving mine. I almost gave a groan just at how perfect this situation had been so far. I leaned into his erection, getting a sharp intake of air from him, and my smirk turned into a grin.
"That's alright," I replied. "It's always so much better when they do."
I firmly kissed him again, shoving my tongue between his lips, and just like that it was an animalistic fever that had stirred between us. His hips pushed forwards, away from the car, and I was rolling mine forwards, enjoying not only the feeling of his hard cock against mine, but the feeling of the denim that still covered his.
His hands slid between our bodies and his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, as his tongue moved sensually against mine. Though he'd warmed up to me considerably, I kept the revolver trained on him; he ignored it. He'd gotten his belt undone, but he seemed to be having problems with his zipper, so I let go of his hair, and moved my hand down to his fly, shooing his hands away. With one swift movement, I pulled the zipper down quickly. He broke the kiss to take in a few gulps of air, and I grinned at him, taking a step back with the gun still aimed at him.
"Turn around." I demanded.
He studied me for a moment, but slowly started to face the car. My excitement grew -- I was about to dominate this big, powerful man. I moved closer to him again, grabbing his pants with my free hand. I pressed my lips against the back of his neck, pleased to feel how relaxed his body was. His hands were on the roof of the Camaro, and his hips were pushed out towards me -- perfect. Biting his neck, I used one of my legs to push his further apart; upon which I pulled his pants down over his ass, just enough to bare it. Almost unable to contain myself, I quickly put two of my fingers into my mouth, and got them wet with my saliva. Then I reached down, and quickly found his hole, roughly pushing my fingers inside of him, and he gave a quick breath, lower body moving forward slightly.
"Mmm." I said into his ear, following his movements until he was pushed up against the car more. "Tighter than I thought."
I pulled his earlobe into my mouth, teasing it with my teeth as I pushed my fingers deeply into his ass. A noise escaped him as I quickly scissored my fingers, and then twisted them slightly. I let out my own noise, as my cock had started to ache from the lack of attention being paid to it. After another finger thrust, I pulled them out of him, and looked down at my hard dick. Instead of wasting time with the whole spitting in my hand process, I spit at my cock, having to do so more than once, but easily getting the top half of my cock covered; in no time I was lining myself up. I grabbed his waist with my free hand, and I held him steady as I guided my hips forward towards his.
When the head of my cock pressed against his ass hole, he tensed slightly. I kissed the back of his neck hungrily, and he relaxed shortly; oh yeah, he'd done this before. Without warning, I thrust my dick into him. He grunted as he was roughly pushed up against the car, but that was his only protest. I squeezed his hip forcefully, starting to pull my cock from him, and letting a groan escape me. Not only was he tight, but even his ass had muscles -- firm muscles that clenched at my cock instinctively.
I pushed into him again, burying my dick completely inside of him. I grunted at the effort, and he took a few deep breaths. I moved my hand up to his hair again, combing my fingers through it, and pulling sharply. A noise escaped him, and I moaned, suddenly wishing I'd taken his shirt off.
I quickened my hip movements, giving a harsh thrust into him, and hitting his prostate dead on.
"Fuck." he said with a soft growl.
I groaned, biting the back of his neck again, vaguely reminding myself of the way male cats do the same to a female. I drove my dick completely inside of him again, narrowly avoiding his spot on purpose this time. He made a small noise, trying to maneuver his hips the right way. I lightly pressed the .50-caliber against his temple again, though he didn't seem afraid of it at all anymore.
"My pleasure comes first." I said in a low tone, "You can worry about yourself later."
I gave another violent thrust into him, my cock aided by the little bit of blood that naturally came from his body, and again I ignored his prostate. Another short noise from him, but his hips stayed still. I grinned to myself once more, amazed by the power of a .50-caliber.
A low groan came from my chest, and I squeezed his hip again as I thrust into him. This time I let myself hit his spot, and he gave a moan, hips moving backwards to meet mine. I let out a sigh, dropping my forehead onto his shoulder. He'd started to sweat, and I could feel it through his tee shirt. My cock sharply jabbed his prostate again, and something I could only call a whimper emitted from his lips, leading me to groan again. There was just something about the whimper of a big, powerful man.
On my next thrust, my movements became less controlled as I could already feel my orgasm approaching. I pulled his hips away from the Camaro, pulling him towards me as I pushed my cock into him deeply, hitting his prostate once more. He groaned again, reaching down with one hand to grab his own cock -- the reason I'd moved him away from the car. His hand movements were quick and jerky, out of tune with my thrusting, and he cocked his head to the side slightly, letting out another noise. I quickly attacked the part of his neck he'd exposed with my lips, biting softly as my dick slid in and out of him in a clumsy rhythm.
After a particular thrust, I felt like I was on the brink of exploding. My back stiffened up, and as I pushed my cock into him again, my orgasm finally hit me. I groaned, biting down on a soft spot of his neck. He winced but groaned as well. I rolled my hips forward as I came, my load emptying into his ass, and just as I was finishing, his body tensed as well; he came into his hand with an almost shudder. A few moments passed before I pulled my cock out of him and quickly put it back into my pants, buttoning and zipping them. I pulled off my shirt, swinging it over my shoulder as if I was carrying a bag or something -- the sweat had been making it stick to my body in a most irritating way -- next time I'd definitely have to remember to take it off. Matt turned to the car, opening the door while he lightly held his pants up with one hand. He reached into his car, and felt around on the floor for a moment, before producing a crumpled napkin. I reached up with my revolver and scratched the back of my head with the barrel, watching, amused, as he wiped his hand clean.
"And best male performance goes to..." he said, turning to me with a grin. "Brian Haner Jr."
I grinned and neared him as he dropped the napkin. He leaned against the car in an almost seductive manner.
"Not too bad yourself." I replied, leaning in and giving him a light kiss on the lips.
His grin grew, and I put the gun against my hip, holding it there with my elbow as I reached down to button his jeans. He watched me and was silent until I'd zipped them as well.
"Part of me was scared that you had that thing loaded." he said, with a gesture to the .50-caliber.
"Nah," I said with a laugh, grabbing it, and pointing it off into the woods somewhere. "I'd never chance that."
I pulled the trigger, and an empty click sounded. I threw another grin at him, and he raised his arms, opening them for me. I pulled him into a hug, and he bit at my jaw bone playfully, tugging at my skin.
"We should do this again," he said. "And maybe we can switch roles."
"Hmm," I said as we separated. "Definitely not."
He rolled his eyes, and I grinned before lightly swatting at his ass, my movements telling him to walk around the car.
"Why not?" he asked, obliging and walking around the back end of the Camaro.
"Because you aren't touching my guns." I said shortly, pulling the car keys from my pocket.
"I'll use a knife." he said, glancing at me over the top of the car.
"Haha no," I said, and we slid into our seats.
He gave a sigh, and I started the car.
"You're an ass, you know that?" he asked. "I bet Johnny would let me fuck him."
"Do so and I'll make sure this thing is loaded next time." I said jokingly, setting the gun in my lap.
"Alright, alright." he said quickly, smirking. "I apologize."
I shot him a quick grin before shifting gears. Amazing what a .50-caliber did.
So yeah, they were obviously role-playing.
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