Ride -- Gunn/Lindsey, NC-17
So, yeah. Porn. Is good.
And, um... stuff.
Lindsey’s screwing himself down on Gunn’s dick, and that’s… yeah. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” somebody is saying, dragged-out and broken, and Gunn thinks it might be him. Lindsey smiles at him, devil in his eyes, blue flames and Gunn is seriously going to hell for this. Letting some evil lawyer guy fuck him, and before that drink with him, and before that smile at him, a knowing, smirky, satisfied curve of his blowjob mouth when he caught Gunn looking at him from across the bar.
The road to hell, apparently, is paved with tequila.
Lindsey clenches his muscles around Gunn’s dick and yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah. He’s pistoning, and all Gunn can do is lie back on Lindsey’s bed, hold on to those slim pale hips with his sword-calloused hands and thrust up as best he can, up into that slick, hot, tight, smooth ride.
And Lindsey answers every thrust, riding him like he’s in a fucking rodeo, hair a rumpled mess, sweat gathering on his chest and in the hollow of his throat, face flushed, damn, damn, damn beautiful fucked up man. Lindsey arches back, exposing the strong, clean curve of his throat, and Gunn wants to bite him all over, lick and suck and taste, but instead he digs his fingers in harder, making Lindsey choke off a curse and clench down again. Gunn digs in his nails, just a little bit-hell, he only has a little bit as nails go-and Lindsey fucking keens at that, goes limp, drapes himself down over Gunn’s body, chest to chest, scrabbles and bites at Gunn’s shoulder. Gunn draws his arms up around Lindsey and feels a little bit of a smirk tinge his own smile.
Yeah, he’s getting the hang of this devil thing.
Grabs a handful of Lindsey’s too-long-for-a-lawyer hair and yanks Lindsey’s head up so he can look into those blue-flame eyes again, but the flame is all but swallowed up in black now, only a thin ring of blue around blown pupils as Lindsey takes Gunn in with his eyes, with his hands, with his ass. When they kiss the taste of whiskey explodes in Gunn’s mouth. Lindsey pants wetly into Gunn’s mouth, hooks his arms through Gunn’s and uses the leverage to thrust back and forth, grinding himself into Gunn.
Gunn uses his handhold on Lindsey’s hair to pull him up into another kiss, harsh men with soft lips, and they make that work, somehow. Lindsey pulls away, braces his hands on Gunn’s chest and grins at him, a wild, fucked-up, fiercely glad grin, and Gunn finds himself returning it just as Lindsey bucks strategically, ripping Gunn’s grin away as he makes Gunn come, death-grip on Lindsey’s hips again, colors behind his eyelids when he blinks, but he opens his eyes again because he can’t look away from Lindsey’s sweetly wicked smile. Gunn catches his breath and Lindsey lets him, just sitting there, in the cradle of Gunn’s lap, watching him with something unreadable in his eyes, until Gunn licks his lips, getting another hit of that whiskey-laced Lindsey flavor, and draws his hands around Lindsey’s waist to circle his ruddy cock, making Lindsey hiss, thumbing the leaking head, making Lindsey curse, stripping him with his fist, making Lindsey come like a wild thing.
Fuck, yeah.
And, um... stuff.
Lindsey’s screwing himself down on Gunn’s dick, and that’s… yeah. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah,” somebody is saying, dragged-out and broken, and Gunn thinks it might be him. Lindsey smiles at him, devil in his eyes, blue flames and Gunn is seriously going to hell for this. Letting some evil lawyer guy fuck him, and before that drink with him, and before that smile at him, a knowing, smirky, satisfied curve of his blowjob mouth when he caught Gunn looking at him from across the bar.
The road to hell, apparently, is paved with tequila.
Lindsey clenches his muscles around Gunn’s dick and yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, yeah. He’s pistoning, and all Gunn can do is lie back on Lindsey’s bed, hold on to those slim pale hips with his sword-calloused hands and thrust up as best he can, up into that slick, hot, tight, smooth ride.
And Lindsey answers every thrust, riding him like he’s in a fucking rodeo, hair a rumpled mess, sweat gathering on his chest and in the hollow of his throat, face flushed, damn, damn, damn beautiful fucked up man. Lindsey arches back, exposing the strong, clean curve of his throat, and Gunn wants to bite him all over, lick and suck and taste, but instead he digs his fingers in harder, making Lindsey choke off a curse and clench down again. Gunn digs in his nails, just a little bit-hell, he only has a little bit as nails go-and Lindsey fucking keens at that, goes limp, drapes himself down over Gunn’s body, chest to chest, scrabbles and bites at Gunn’s shoulder. Gunn draws his arms up around Lindsey and feels a little bit of a smirk tinge his own smile.
Yeah, he’s getting the hang of this devil thing.
Grabs a handful of Lindsey’s too-long-for-a-lawyer hair and yanks Lindsey’s head up so he can look into those blue-flame eyes again, but the flame is all but swallowed up in black now, only a thin ring of blue around blown pupils as Lindsey takes Gunn in with his eyes, with his hands, with his ass. When they kiss the taste of whiskey explodes in Gunn’s mouth. Lindsey pants wetly into Gunn’s mouth, hooks his arms through Gunn’s and uses the leverage to thrust back and forth, grinding himself into Gunn.
Gunn uses his handhold on Lindsey’s hair to pull him up into another kiss, harsh men with soft lips, and they make that work, somehow. Lindsey pulls away, braces his hands on Gunn’s chest and grins at him, a wild, fucked-up, fiercely glad grin, and Gunn finds himself returning it just as Lindsey bucks strategically, ripping Gunn’s grin away as he makes Gunn come, death-grip on Lindsey’s hips again, colors behind his eyelids when he blinks, but he opens his eyes again because he can’t look away from Lindsey’s sweetly wicked smile. Gunn catches his breath and Lindsey lets him, just sitting there, in the cradle of Gunn’s lap, watching him with something unreadable in his eyes, until Gunn licks his lips, getting another hit of that whiskey-laced Lindsey flavor, and draws his hands around Lindsey’s waist to circle his ruddy cock, making Lindsey hiss, thumbing the leaking head, making Lindsey curse, stripping him with his fist, making Lindsey come like a wild thing.
Fuck, yeah.