badluckwithplanes | Zhautas Bangr

bangr

OWEN SHAW | 35

Born and raised in London, resident of the world. Any more personal information given only to those willing to ask for it.

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IC INBOX:

"This is Shaw. Leave your message, get back to you once I can."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

badluckwithplanes

[He relaxes almost at once as Thor moves on, even though he shouldn't trust so easily. It goes against everything he stands for.

But even as he's breathing quickly to recover from that needless bit of exertion on his part those hands are stroking his sides, feeling out his bones and muscle, and it just feels so good it's easier to relax back into it. It isn't long before he moans again as Thor keeps going, sound still trapped in a closed mouth, but eventually he's giving audible soft pants as his jaw and lips fall open. Maybe that's a good consolation prize? Thor probably deserves something by now. For his part it's all Shaw can do right now to go back to feeling up the muscles at the back of his neck, all but clawing at that juncture where it meets broad shoulders as he holds on for dear life. He's usually way more...involved, at this point, but christ; that feel as the edge of Thor's strong jawline works against his chest, the soft scratch of his facial hair as he heads towards the hollow of his throat. It's all he can do to lie there with his eyes shut and give over to it, though almost involuntarily his hips keep pushing up to try and rub against Thor's body a few times.

And then of course the other man is talking again, but this time it's simple. This time it's an order he can easily comply with.

He takes a gasping second to catch his breath and then he fumbles his way into a halfway sitting up position, dragging his undershirt off like it's continued presence on his body offends him personally.

He tries not to rise any further, dipping chin to his chest as he watches riveted as Thor kisses his way down, enjoying the sight almost as much as the feel of it. Rests his weight on his hands and tenses with anticipation as those hands find his belt, the heat in his body like a taut bowstring on the verge of being plucked.]

From:

dyingstar

[ For as tense and quiet as Shaw is, he still does as Thor asks and gets rid of his shirt. And Thor rewards him for it, with one last open-mouthed kiss to his stomach, by stepping back from where he's kneeling on the bed, and kneeling on the floor next to it, instead. The difference in height takes a little adjusting: mainly, he has to pull Shaw by his calves so that his ass is closer to the end of the bed, and Thor's mouth can still reach his stomach comfortably.

But Thor's aiming lower anyway, now that he has the belt opened, and then the fly of Shaw's pants. He pulls the slacks lower by the waist until they're barely riding on Shaw's hips, almost falling off of him, well below his clothed cock and out of the way. And there's more skin for Thor's mouth to find then, as he sucks a new bruise low onto one of Shaw's hips, his hands spread on his thighs, squeezing, before he drops even lower than that, nuzzling and mouthing Shaw's cock through his underwear, breathing warm and wetting the fabric with his tongue.

It's a shame he won't get the begging he would've liked or the story he'd painted for them on that night beach. But with all that closet talk, he can understand why. It's fine. He'll treat Shaw like a virgin this time, give him what he wants but won't ask for, and then once he's comfortable, a few days or weeks from now, Thor will try again. He's nothing it not stubborn, and he isn't easy to shake when he wants to make himself a nuisance, which Shaw all but begs for even without a word. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[A smile flits in and out of being on his face as an involuntary reaction of excited pleasure as Thor gets down in front of him like and starts working on the rest of his clothes. It doesn't stay very long though. When Thor starts sucking on his hip like that, his eyes close and his mouth opens, as his hand goes to clutch at the back of Thor's head, knuckles curling as much as they can to grip short blond locks. The sound he gives out is more groan than moan but at least it's unedited this time. A tremble works it's way through his lower body as his cock reacts, seeking friction but with nothing to thrust into.

Thor might get what he wants yet, reaction-wise, though it'll take a lot of persistence. Shaw after all is far from a virgin: and he doesn't want delicate, he actually does want rough. But he's so used to control, so used to seeking power; he tends to top other men automatically without necessarily even planning for it. The only way he knows to find pleasure in yielding is after he's done his best not to. He doesn't know how to give it up without a fight.

Especially with someone like Thor, who like it or not reminds him more of the men he's spent most his working life around - the men he always hid part of himself from, typically, rather than start a scene. He's not used to showing weakness, even pleasured weakness, to a man like that without being mocked for it. Without being made to pay, even hurt. He's not in the right mindset to know this is a safe place for him to keen and beg, to be more vulnerable in his wanting for a change.

In his mind he's already giving Thor plenty, offering what he has. Holding the door open for him to keep taking more, just so long as he doesn't mind not being handed it.

As he pets Thor's head aggressively his thumb strokes a path against the ridge of his brow and his hand finds a good hold by resting just behind his ear. He reaches down with the other though to give a tug at Thor's own attire, snapping the fabric of one shoulder strap.]

What about these? Don't I get a show, too?

[They're well on the way to none of his clothes being involved anymore, he thinks it's only fair Thor start losing his shirt too.]

From:

dyingstar

[ For a few moments, Thor enjoys himself just like this, Shaw petting his hair while he nuzzles and licks at his erection through cloth like a cat, enjoying teasing him to hardness with the reward of a hand pulling through his short hair. When Shaw's thumb drops to skin, Thor leans into it, mouthing his palm again, lightly biting and drawing his tongue over Shaw's thumb as he had before, then returning to Shaw's bare hip, and his cock again, in no rush to give more. When he feels a hand tugging at the strap of his vest, though, Thor lifts his head. And his eyebrows lift, and he smile at the words. ]

Ah, he can speak!

[ Since Shaw doesn't ask just for the vest to be removed, but for a show, Thor decides to have fun with that. (rip Owen) With one last gentle drag of his teeth over the fabric wet from his mouth, Thor leans back further in his kneeling, slow to do it, hands dragging over Shaw's thighs, before he stands and loses contact, and steps back further. Rather than the vest, he starts with the bracers on his wrists, which he doesn't usually bother to take off, but he wears so little, it wouldn't be much of a show just to lose his shirt. The bracers each have a buckle, and it takes him a few moments to loose and pull off each one, and he does both while watching Shaw with the ease of practice. ]

You know, I think I remember something like this in what I told you by the ocean. What was it?

[ He opens the buckles on the side of his vest without rushing, pretending to think when he remembers every word. It was the reverse of this, but that's fine. Thor's never been good at following plans exactly as they're made to be followed, anyway. He pretends to realize. ]

Ah, me stripping down while you fingered yourself for me. I think that's how that went.

[ It wasn't. More importantly, though... Thor shrugs out of his vest, and lingers only for a moment to allow Shaw the view of him bare-chested, before he drops the vest aside and turns, lets Shaw enjoy the sight of his back as he paces back around the room. ]

There's lube in here, right?

[ Hopefully, or Shaw's not getting fucked. And hopefully he directs Thor where to find it, or Thor's going to paw through all of his roommate's things again while seeking some out. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[He kept gritting his teeth, reacting in a wince in response to everything Thor was doing: so much teasing, tantalizing pleasure it was starting to register as the sweetest pain. A small but sharp repeated tingling stab of longing. Wanting, expecting more each time. And Thor, damn him, having enough control not to give it.

Caught in this reverie at first his only reaction to Thor's jest is to stare with mouth half-open in the stupidest look of bemusement.

He blinks, slow, and then finally enough of himself surfaces for air that his mouth closes to twitch with a scoffing smirk. Acknowledging the remark as a fair shot, but not entirely laughing along with it.

Of course by then Thor has moved along to actually giving him said show and though his expression stays relatively set it still becomes increasingly heated and hungry as the other man goes through the motions of undressing, slowly. He doesn't mind the lingering over the bracers. Though he wasn't anticipating Thor responding so literally, he does like a little show. Considering he's into both competence and combat, there's actually something particularly arousing about watching those big rough hands work apart his almost medieval armor with such experienced ease. Hot. Another addition to the growing list of things he didn't know he was into before this place.

He sits there on the bed, leaning back on his hands. And then the vest actually drops and he sees the size of those muscles rippling beneath his skin and...oh. Now that. That sure is something. He has to bite his lip and breathe out through his nose with an audible "uhnf".. He's not entirely successful at holding back a longing grin, neck craning to watch the subtle movement across that broad back as he swaggers away; yet another fraction of a pause before he responds to a question.]

Ahh. Eyuh. [Dammit brain, focus. Process words.] Uh, yeah. Over there, in that drawer. Top on the left. There's liquor in there too.

[A mostly full heavy glass bottle of something dark amber and strong but smokey sweet, and several packets of that experimental lube he's been hoarding. Both tested out first, by him, on Matt as a matter of fact.

While Thor's back is turned, Shaw remembers he's still half-wearing his jeans, and that his briefs are still on. Swiftly he goes to take care of that, unlacing his boots and then tugging down his remaining clothes, intending to kick them aside. There's an audible thunk as the boot-sheathe of the knife he's rarely taken off since his arrival here hits the floor, and he mentally curses himself, startled and annoyed. Swiftly he tries to shove everything back under the bed with his foot and hopes Thor didn't hear that and wonder.]

From:

dyingstar

[ It's nice to see the smile and huff of laugh at last, and Thor smiles back for it with an easier kind of confidence, darkened only by want. Shaw looks good like that, laid out on a bed, pants open and shirtless, flushed and with his expression caught between pride and lust. He looks just as good once the smirk is faded only to naked desire. As much as Thor wants words out of Shaw, removing his capability for them is its own kind of reward. Thor smiles back over his shoulder as Shaw flounders, and he enjoys that sight one more time before he lets himself be distracted by the cabinet drawers.

He finds the lube first, in packets he hasn't seen before, and takes all there is, because more is always better, and he doesn't plan on crossing the room again, or being so far away from Shaw's skin if he can help it. He lifts and eyebrow and glances over his shoulder again at the mention of liquor. It sounds like something of an admittance that Shaw does remember that conversation, but Thor doesn't call him out on it, only takes the bottle up and uncaps it, inhales the smell of it, decides it's far better than whatever was in that utility closet he found, and closes it off again, drawing two glasses and the bottle in the spread of one hand while the other's occupied with those packets. (He doesn't hear anything but shuffling, besides the clatter of glass he makes himself.)

Thor stops as he turns back to find Shaw naked for him, and there's a pleasant sight. He didn't even have to ask. He looks surprised at first, but the expression melts quickly into something please, and warm, with hunger as his eyes rake shameless over Shaw's thighs, and his cock, and his stomach and chest as he closes the distance, and stands over Shaw, unnecessarily close, the crotch of his leather pants at eye-level close, and offers Shaw the hand with the glasses and bottle, to take one for himself, and he drops the packets of lube on the bed at Shaw's side for use later, to free his other hand so that he can take the bottle and pour them each a glass. ]

That's a good look for you: naked. You should wear it more often.

From:

badluckwithplanes

[Thor making a point to eye him over in return, with an interest and determined desire on the same wavelength as his, makes him feel like he's under more solid ground with this whole thing. It evens the score. He doesn't do anything so overt as puff out his chest but he notices that Thor notices, clearly, and he sits up a bit straighter on the bed. For a moment at least he's got some of that cool arrogant nonchalance that always seems to hang about him back where it usually is.

(Of course lest Thor think he's lost the upper hand somehow...well between the fresh red marks on Shaw's skin in several tender places in the shape of the Asgardian's mouth that are going to be nice and dark bruises by tomorrow, and the arousal that's gathered at the base of his cock that is already notably starting to stiffen him up...the point is, he hasn't lost it. Not even remotely.)

He takes the glass he's offered and holds it out evenly for Thor's pour. Trying not to look over at the pile of lube packets to his side, but the unseen sight is like an itch at his skin.]

I would, but I'd hate to send the wrong message.

[The remark is glib, with overtly feigned primness.]

From:

dyingstar

[ Pouring the two glasses feels like a small eternity before it's done and the decanter set aside. ]

What message, that you're eager to fuck? On a planet designed for it?

[ He raises the glass and drinks all of it. Not a sip. He takes it like a shot, because it may as well be a sip, for what little it warms him. Tastes good, though. He saves the last of the sip in his mouth, and sets the glass on the floor also. He could refill it again, considers sitting on the other side of the room like he'd said on that beach, but he'd rather get his hands on Shaw now, so he continues pretending to forget. Instead, he leans down and kiss Shaw's mouth again, deeply, sharing that last sip with him by the push of his tongue, and chasing the taste even after it's swallowed down. He lets one of his knees fall comfortably between Shaw's thighs on the bed again, and starts opening the laces of his pants even before the kiss ends. ]

It's alright to admit it, if you're afraid. Of what people might say, what they might do to you if they saw you like I see you now, walking the halls with your cock out...

[ His hands are busy on his own pants, so he can't grab that cock for emphasis. But he shoves in a little closer with his knee, offering a little friction in the form of sliding leather before he leans back again to standing, and takes a few steps back before resuming that show from before, taking off his boots this time, and his pants, leaving only the black boxer-briefs beneath, a small square of clothing left on him that he removes also right after, and kicks aside. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[If he hadn't had his inferences as to Thor's constitution before, they're certainly confirmed now, watching him take what most humans would rate as a sipping liquor like it's a shot of cheap whiskey. He makes a grunt of surprise when that next kiss comes with something more than tongue, but he recovers in time to keep from choking himself. Swallows it down and feels the burn rising from his throat even as the inside of his mouth is overwhelmed by heat that must easily as much come from Thor itself as it does any alcohol.

He can't help himself. He spreads his legs wider and slides close almost greedily, barely keeping himself from grinding rather than gently rubbing on Thor's thigh. The feel of the leather in this context is almost as good if totally different from skin on skin.

He's not sure anymore if Thor's words are intended as sexy teasing banter or completely serious. He continues to respond in his own fashion as if they're the former, trying to keep this exchange something like lighthearted in a strained attempt to cut back on how desperate he feels for Thor to do what he will with him.]

I could protect whatever passes for my 'virtue' if it came to that. I assure you. [His expression as he leers those words couldn't possibly look more, well...mercenary.] But it's not a sight meant for every pair of eyes. I'm far from ashamed but I am selective, over who gets to see this.

[Since Thor has already parted their bodies to attend to what's left of his clothes it's easier for Shaw to slip back on the bed, leaning back into a lounging position which with casual purposefulness shows off his stomach, chest and arms better. All he needs is a rose in his teeth, really; not that what he's got is anything on Thor. He still keeps the ability to make words happen after the other strips entirely, which he privately gives himself a gold star for. Not that it keeps him from staring directly at Thor's cock and thinking about how that's going to be in him soon - a notion which makes him both tense and shiver, in all the best ways.]

Wouldn't want just anybody to think they could walk up and I'd be ready for the taking. I like to be courted a bit first.

[He smirks on that last part, obviously teasing and yet...not: has what Thor's done count as "courting"? It's foreplay, at least, which yes actually, is what Shaw likes. He came into the stage of just being able to slam back a few drinks and messily pair off with someone in a bathroom too early in life. Now that type of thing just bores him.]

From:

dyingstar

[ The problem with that mercenary glare and the words paired with it, isn't that Thor doesn't believe him. Against most people, sure. But he's talking to a god, and for all he's grabbed and shoved and pushed Shaw around, he hasn't seen any hidden show of strength. Maybe he's sure he could defending himself, but that only makes Thor want to try harder to best him. It's almost a shame he's already won, and has Shaw naked and in bed as he wanted without more of a fight. Almost, but not really, for how well Thor's enjoying it. He's not patient enough to want a fight too much, and the challenge in the words is good enough. Words Thor laughs at, deep and pleased. ]

Courted? Is that what I did?

[ Shaw presents himself like any painter would dream his model to be: practiced pose on the bed, begging to be thrown off his axis and defiled for daring to look so enticing. And it works as intended, luring Thor back in, clothing all gone, lube nearby, and a drink ready to be spilled in Shaw's hand. He's further back now, and kneeling on the bed isn't enough to get Thor close enough. He all but has to crawl to get back where likes, but that's fine. He can enjoy himself along the way. His hands skim over Shaw's bare ankles and up his calves, and his mouth falls after, pressing sucking kisses to the inside of one knee, and up, with words spoken in between. ]

Does that make this our wedding night?

[ He kisses the inside of Shaw's thigh, and the join of his hip just beside his cock, where he licks and sucks hard to blood another mark, hands spread wide to keep Shaw's thighs held down where they are. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

God, I hope not.

[He huffs a laugh, even as his head goes back and his eyes shut, savoring the hands pushing back on his legs, holding him in place, and the action of Thor's experienced mouth on that sensitive skin inside.]

I'd make a terrible hubby. Probably a worse wife. [He sighs, leaning almost all the way back on the bed, before lifting his glass finally to take a drink. The glass trembles as Thor continues his work.] Don't have it in me to even play at being domestic...it's not in my blood.

From:

dyingstar

[ Thor chuckles with Shaw, and then listens after as he lays a kiss next to the bruise he's made on Shaw's thigh, and kisses a little higher on his hip after, enjoying the teasing, but also interested in Shaw's opinions on relationships and not wanting to interrupt.

"Domestic" is an interesting idea, and the idea of a man being a wife, as if husband and wifely duties are set by gender. Shaw should've met Thor's mother, or Sif, or Valkyrie, or any of the women of Asgard, really. He might think twice. For his part, Thor doesn't mind domesticity if it means caring for someone he loves. Shouldn't both people involved do that, clean and cook and help one another? He doesn't argue it though, only hums. He's not looking for a debate with Shaw's skin warm under his mouth and his cock ready and waiting, and so nearby. Which is exactly why he takes Shaw's cock in his hand then, to end any debate in the conversation, and drags his rough chin against the soft skin of it before following the scratch with the gentler press of his lips. ]

You're lucky then to have found a husband so willing to serve.

[ He breathes the words against the length of Shaw's cock, teases the head with kisses and sucks at the head only briefly before dipping lower and taking more into his mouth, a hand pressed hard just above his cock, low on his stomach, to keep his hips held down.

Good luck with that drink. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[Thor should met Shaw's mother, if he thinks the man is presuming that all women are soft and servile things. But finer points of semantics and cultural debate is probably not on the table for tonight.

Whatever quip he could've thought to make at this point is lost. Thor's mouth is on his cock, those clever lips and tongue going to work on him, another of those big hands in place to keep from being able to move. Not that he'd be even considering moving.

Shaw swears effusively, in a breathless exhale. His arm jerks and what's left in his glass after that last swallow splashes around them. He lets the empty vessel drop from his fingers and it thumps to the bed, before rolling off the side to the floor.

He's going hard with comical speed against the roof of Thor's mouth; it's embarrassing, actually. There's color tinging the high points of his cheeks and forehead that has less to do with outright arousal than it might appear.

It's such a struggle to focus when he wants to surrender, when his body is already surrendering for him. But he glances around and realizes there are trails of liquor spilled all over the back of his hand. When he licks it off he does it slow and deliberate, keeping the action at an angle he'll know Thor can see. Even as he's starting to breathe heavy from what Thor is doing to him.]

From:

dyingstar

[ Thor's mouth is too full to smile at the sound of the glass hitting the floor, so he hums his pleasure instead, as reward for how well Shaw reacts. No longer teasing, but doing the opposite now, Thor uses his lips and the press of his tongue and the suck of his mouth mercilessly, deeply, warmly, wanting exactly what he gets: that sudden surge in arousal of Shaw's. It's perfect, rewarding, exactly the kind of reaction Thor hoped for by doing it, and so he doesn't let up, but keeps Shaw pinned by his hand, and bobs his head, holds the base of Shaw's cock firm with his free hand, and builds a rhythm, barely slow to start, then more, and faster, and the kind of steady that drives him mad to feel from the other side.

He doesn't need to look up to gauge Shaw's reactions, but he's glad when he does on a long stroke back, tongue dragging under the ridge at the tip of his cock, hand following the slide up as he watches with arousal-darkened two-colored eyes, to see Shaw licking the back of his hand the same. Thor pulls off only long enough to smile, before ducking down and picking up the rhythm again with his mouth right where his hand had left off. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[That maddening build in rhythm has him gasping, a tremor going throughout his whole upper body that's sent out from his hips. He lays down more, hunching his shoulders, fighting the urge to start thrusting into Thor's mouth in search of more satisfaction.

As his hands drops from his mouth at first he bites his lip and shuts his eyes. He can't hold it in for very long though as Thor keeps adding just enough to momentum to keep pushing that edge a little further. Always enough to deprive him of any sense of balance, always enough to keep him wanting more. He's gasping his breaths through an open mouth, one fist twisting around a clutch of sheets. The fingers of his other hand splay almost like a muscle spasm.

He looks down at the confident and heady gaze of the man tormenting his cock so exquisitely; at the naked expanse of that broad muscular body. How did a man that he read from the start as strong and impatient ever manage to become practiced enough at this type of finesse. He marvels at it - in the distant part of himself still able to think about anything right now other than how good he feels but also how helpless, a prisoner to his own body's thwarted reactions.]

Christ. Fuck. God, you, you...you're not a god, you're a monster.

[The gasped out words have a pleading keen to them, and despite his near outrage they're hardly meant as an insult. He doesn't want him to stop, what he wants, needs is more.]

From:

dyingstar

[ For as much as Shaw tries to tense and hide his reactions, closing his eyes, biting his lip, stilling his hips... it's still more than enough for Thor to enjoy and to keep doing just what he's doing, the long drag and suck of his mouth, deep and warm, exhaling hot on each pull back, loosening his throat every time he presses forward again to the tight ring of his fingers at the base of Shaw's cock. It's a practiced art, yes. Thor's had a lot of time to improve, and fucking kept him out of the trouble his fighting usually caused. He's still learning, though. There's always more to learn, especially when you're fucking someone new, and so he listens and glances up at Shaw every chance he gets, to enjoy the sight, and gauge his reactions, and find when he can give more.

The words make it pretty obvious. Thor laughs, low in his throat, as he pulls back finally, replacing the pull of his mouth with the stroke of his hand again as he answers, and his other hand searches the bed near Shaw's side for the lube from before. ]

I've never been called a monster for sucking cock before. I could stop, if you'd like.

[ Thor offers just to hear the opposite, and hfinally, his hand finds its aim in his blind groping. He grabs up one of the packets from the sheets, and then opens it as he's opened half a dozen of them before: by tearing the foil of it with his teeth. ]

From:

dyingstar

[...Only to have the whole thing explode suddenly, and the contents are thrown everywhere, on his face, in his hair, across Shaw's cock and stomach and in fat droplets sprayed over the sheets. Thor stays still, stunned, with the foil hanging there in his mouth for a moment before turning his head and spitting that last piece to the floor, and exhaling his disgust, and wiping his face with the crook of his arm because his hands are also covered in the stuff.

Oh. Oh, it doesn't even taste good. Ugh. He spits again, this time into the sheets to clear his mouth, and wipes his face again with the opposite elbow before finally looking at Shaw for sympathy. ]

Wow. That's... awful. You should've let me use the strawberry one.

Edited Date: 2018-07-10 03:03 am (UTC)

From:

badluckwithplanes

[He can finally catch his breath while Thor has switched to his hand rather than his mouth. His chest is rising and falling shallowly and he doesn't try to disguise his soft audible pants. But he's no longer on the verge of losing his mind to over-stimulation as he was. Still he remains hard in Thor's hand, body humming with pleasure, and he rolls his hips a little into his grasp.]

No, don't you stop. Don't you dare stop now, or I'll make sure you regret it, you bastard.

[This growled proclamation is full of heat and pleasure, a threat that is it's own kind of begging in response to Thor's taunt. He knows he's being led around now. As much as it makes a part of him want to hiss and spit, he's at the same time too far gone to care. If Thor hasn't quite reduced him to openly begging to be fucked yet, he's still stripped him of a lot of layers of chilly defense in an impressive amount of time, to get him to be so emotive in laying bare his raw need.

So caught up in it is he, head dropped back slightly, eyes half-closed, trying not to writhe against the sheets, he utterly fails to realize Thor's grabbed up one of the packets. If he did he would have had the presence of mind to remind him - to warn him, since Thor doesn't know what he does it would seem - that he has to be careful when opening them.

The next thing he knows is that sound, a big chemical splat as suddenly most of his body is drenched in chemical lube.

A long dead silence of shock as he stares at Thor and down at his body and at this mess. A single hard blink is the preface to him finally coming out of his disbelieving fugue.]

...Are you fucking kidding me.

From:

dyingstar

Right?

[ Thor agrees with the sentiment, holding a hand up a lube-wet with a kind of "what do I do with this" expression. ]

Who knew it would do that! I've opened half a dozen of these packets and never had that happen before. I hope it's not toxic.

[ It sure doesn't taste good. But it's not eating through Shaw's skin and he's not scratching to get it off of him, so those are good signs. It still looks like lube. And so, Thor shrugs and uses it that way, grabbing Shaw's cock again with that wet hand and stroking. ]

How does it feel?

[ Sex researchers hard at work. Hire this man, Zenith. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[Things we are learning today For Science, we guess: what it feels like to simultaneously be very pissed off and still be sporting a very hard erection. This is interesting. This has never happened to him before.]

It feels like you were supposed to give it a shake before you tore it open. Did you forget already? Or if you missed that memo, I would've gladly told you...if only you'd -- you'd given me a moment to...ahh...uhnn...

[Thor's touch still feels good, damn him, but also now the lube's extra features are going to work. His chest, stomach and cock are beginning to feel warm and tingly all over. It's almost too much, considering how much of this is slathered across his bare skin. Like, it feels fantastic but it's driving him mad. It's like deep tissue massage that works you too hard when you're not prepared.

He needs to breathe in and out, nostrils flaring, eyelids fluttering, trying to get a hold of himself. When he speaks again his voice is a hoarse murmur.]

We've got too choices. Either you stop toying around and finish me off, or we need to move to the showers so I can rinse this shit off me.

From:

dyingstar

[ When Shaw says "give it a shake" it takes Thor's brain a minute to realize he means the packet of lube, not the cock he's still casually stroking. Like... to mix the packet? Shouldn't something explosive be the opposite, and not be shaken? Weird. Thor did miss that memo, though. Interesting that Shaw read it, and kept dangerous packets around when there were plenty of other options if you went looking for them. Probably out of embarrassment more than laziness, if Thor had to guess. Not that it matters how anyway, because past the initial explosion, the lube seems to be working as it's design, slicking Thor's hand and facilitating every squeezing drag of his fingers.

Also, it's.... heating up, which is a little alarming. Is it going to catch fire? That would be embarrassing. RIP Shaw's cock. And Thor's hair, what's left of it. ...But no, Shaw knows what this stuff is, and he seems comfortable enough "finishing things off" with it still on, so if the heating does worsen to fire, Thor won't feel responsible. In fact, Shaw seems more than comfortable for the way his breath rushes and his voice roughens. Thor hooks an arm under one of Shaw's knees and sucks a bruising kiss against that spread thigh between his words. ]

Ah, that's perfect. I was planning both.

[ His hand leaves Shaw's cock with one last long, squeezing stroke, and he gently palms Shaw's sac while his long fingers press lower, feeling the pucker of his ass with two lube-wet (and warmed) fingers, massaging with pressure, and no force. More teasing. "Finish me off" can take some time, right? Thor plans to. He licks a stripe of warm skin on Shaw's thigh before looking past his cock and meeting his eyes again. ]

Why don't you touch yourself for me? I'm not putting my mouth back on your cock with that stuff all over it.

[ Really should've used the strawberry. Of course, Thor has another hand; he could do it himself. But he likes a little active participation, and he wants the sight of Shaw jerking himself off to commit firmer to his memory for the next time he wants to entertain the idea. ]

From:

badluckwithplanes

[With him already hypersensitive, closer to the edge with his arousal, body warmed by chemicals all over his chest and stomach -- Thor's mouth going back to work on that just right spot on his leg pushes at an unexpected button, just too hard.

His head drops back, his eyes fly shut, and his mouth parts as he makes a sharp gasping sound of desperate pleasure.

He actually clasps a hand over his own mouth once he realizes what he just did, startled. Like that's going to un-ring that bell.

There's no chance for him to try and get a hold of himself. Even as he's trembling with disbelief to be added as another note in the confusing symphony of things he already feels, in his body and in his mind, Thor naturally has kept moving forward. The next thing he knows is that hand is off his cock, which throbs in unhappy confusion at the sudden absence. And then, then Thor's fingers are almost inside him. Big, warm fingers almost inside of him, spreading the tingling slide of the lube to the skin there.]

O-oh...oh...

[He tries to straighten his legs from the hip down, fighting against the instinct to clench. When was the last time he let somebody do something like this to him? Touch that part of his body like that? Too long. He'd almost forgotten that strange, wonderful feeling.

His gaze darts down, looking almost like a frightened animal in the intensity of his lust. How every inch of him begs for more even as it begs for release from this heightening torment.]

Put them in. Put them inside of me.

[His voice is ragged. He doesn't want to give into the order easy, but he can't resist so instead he'll negotiate. Like that somehow holds any ground for him, when his voice is trembling and he's coming very close to pleading now.]

I want to feel that inside of me, do it. Please.

Edited (caught a typo three days later gdi) Date: 2018-07-19 04:35 pm (UTC)

From:

dyingstar

[ Who knew all it took was a little bit of bruising kisses and self-warming lube to get Shaw gasping and begging like that? Not Thor, but he knows now. That's probably dangerous. But, dangerous in the fun way. Thor smiles, on the side of smug but warmed by arousal of his own, and he hums against the inside of Shaw's thigh and the red mark he'd put there with his mouth a moment before, while his fingers press, and massage, and warm, and do everything but the "in" Shaw asked for.

He could keep teasing him. He wants to, and if it were anyone else, he might. After all, Shaw hadn't started touching his own cock yet, like Thor'd asked. But he'd promised kindness, at least this first time, and he can't resist hearing that nice "please" in Shaw's voice, anyway, made even better for all the time it took to earn it. ]

Are you already thinking about it? My cock spreading you open, when I haven't even fucked you on my fingers yet?

[ He does now though, pressing a slicked finger inside, testing the give, the tightness, in shallow thrusts before giving more. It's not that he wants Shaw begging. Except that he does. He likes that begging a lot, and Shaw's good at it, he's find out. But because he doesn't know how long it's been, and Shaw's certainly not acting like he's getting fucked every night. So slowness wins out, despite the protests, and Thor sucks another bruise on Shaw's thigh beside the first as apology, and distraction, before pairing a second finger beside the first and pressing that inside, also, slow and shallow at first, then deeper, and spreading.

He sits up higher on his knees, kissing from Shaw's thigh back up to his hip, near to his cock, where he drops more sucking kisses, and more heated words. ]

You've been thinking about my cock a lot, haven't you? You could've called sooner. I've been thinking about fucking you probably just as often.

From:

badluckwithplanes

[His back arches slightly and he leans into those fingers rather than away. No, Thor is certainly right: he hasn't had this done to him in awhile. But that certainly doesn't mean he wants it any less.

His legs fall apart to give Thor easier access to his inner thighs. His cock is throbbing hard now, not that from the sounds he's making and the way he trembles under the touches that wouldn't be easy to guess. The words Thor is saying aren't helping either.

Or rather, they are helping. Too much.]

Yeah. I've been thinking about it. Been trying not to but... [whispering, suppressing a hysterical chuckle] ...yeah. You're so -- big. And, the things. That you said to me. It's been a long time since I let another man ride me. I wanted this so much...

[One arm lands helplessly spread against the mattress over his head, the other resumes twisting a handful in the sheets to give him something to hang onto, some illusion of control. When Thor added that second finger he groaned in pleasure.]

Edited Date: 2018-07-19 11:05 pm (UTC)

From:

dyingstar

[ It's gratifying to hear, that admittance at last that Shaw does remember that conversation, but also that what he'd suspected was true, that Shaw doesn't often let himself have the pleasure of being fucked like this, but that somehow Thor is lucky enough to be allowed. He'd be a fool not to be appreciative of that. And he does his best to show his gratitude, as he has been, with warm kisses against Shaw's hip, and then his stomach as Thor stands to lean over him, a knee pressed to the bed between Shaw's spread legs again, his free hand sliding over Shaw's waist and up. ]

Mm.

[ Thor hums his agreement with his mouth somewhere around Shaw's ribs, and his fingers curling on the end of each slow, deep thrust in, before adding a third, stretching him wider with each lube-slicked plunge. ]

Then you've already done the teasing for me, and I shouldn't keep you waiting longer.

[ His free hand works what's left of the warming lube over his aching cock and....ah, that's a unique sensation. He goes a little breathless while his mouth finally finds one of Shaw's nipples and teases it with sucking kisses and the gentle pull of his teeth. And finally, by the pull of his hand and the tight squeeze around his fingers, and all the way Shaw writhes, Thor loses patience. He leans up just enough to take back his hands, grabs Shaw's thighs and pulls him hard back towards the edge of the back, back so Thor's cock is pressed between Shaw's ass, all the teasing and none of the in just yet, as Thor leans over him again, their bodies all but inches apart in most places, face to face and closer than they've ever been, but still not quite close enough. Thor breathes the word, nearly against Shaw's mouth as Shaw's pressed down into the bed by Thor's weight. ]

Ready?