"Suppose I'll have to distract you." Burr's chest is another source of fascination for Hamilton. It swells by each day, softening, the nipples lengthening and growing. The changes are merciless, and how Burr suffers -- but when Hamilton touches and soothes him, he melts. He isn't rough with Burr's delicate nipples, not anymore, instead nuzzling the soft flesh and applying the gentlest suction. That's all he has to do. It drives his lover wild.
"Can I knot you?" Hamilton bursts out. He wants to be in Burr, deep as he can, until he knows nothing but the perfect, sweet grip of his cunt. It's been some time since they've had the chance, and though Hamilton had thought he was too exhausted, earlier, now he's aglow with fascination and breathless lust, elated. "Is it too late along? Are you still deep enough?" They can't easily, of course; the last time, Hamilton had to take him from behind, but now Hamilton thinks even that would be a strain with the extra weight.
He can never have enough of knotting Burr. Binding Burr to him, feeling from within every flicker of pleasure -- the way Hamilton fucks has changed completely over the last months, his unwavering focus now on using himself as an instrument of Burr's pleasure. God, and it's so much better than selfish rutting. Every time Burr climaxes, it's different: sometimes a sudden release of tension, sometimes cascades of little clenches, sometimes hard, rough spasms. But it's always delicious, always makes Hamilton's own that much better. He's ravenous to get Burr off as many times, as many ways, as possible, sweet rewards for the terrible, beautiful strain his body is under.
"Here," and he helps Burr settle onto his left side, a blanket tucked under his belly for a little additional support. Draws up the nightshirt, baring Burr's slim thighs and hips that seem too small for the weight on them. The heave of Burr's chest, the incredible swell of life that he carries.
"God," and Hamilton can't but stare, even though it's so dark in here, just the ember-glow to illuminate. "You're more beautiful all the time. You're a miracle." He pets Burr's waist, slides his hand down to curl around his length, which now actually presses up against his belly when it's erect. Hamilton coaxes it there, now, strokes that firm Burr up, make his cunt slick up. "Mm, I like you like this. You have to wait for what I give you." Fingertips trail in the slick between Burr's legs, a little bit of a tease, but really just making sure that Burr is wet enough that Hamilton fuck him, without hurting him. He is so much more careful than he used to be, no matter how Burr begs him for rough, hard fucking, because it does no one good to leave him so sore and used. Lovely as it is.
He lifts Burr's right leg, a bit, baring the wet entrance to his body. This way, he is above Burr, sort of coming at him from the side. No weight on Burr's abdomen, and Burr doesn't have to hold himself upright, and Hamilton can fuck him deep, deep. Too impatient, too needy to make Burr come once or twice, warm him up penetration, no -- he needs to be inside Burr now, needs to tie him and pleasure him and leave him marked and filthy with seed.
He rubs the head of his cock against Burr, smearing wet, and then sinks, sinks inside, that little flicker as Burr's body surrenders to the penetration. Slow, deep strokes, less about fucking than it is about stroking Burr from the inside. He is so deep this way, swallowed to the base of his cock, and inside Burr is liquid and heat. And tight, always tight, so it seems Hamilton's cock is always stretching him just bit more.
He does speed up, once Burr starts pleading, breathlessly. Thorough, deep strokes, and his hand all the while toying with Burr's cock, smearing the head of it on Burr's own belly.
It doesn't take long. Hamilton wants him so badly -- and this time, unlike their first, Hamilton presses deep, stroking Burr's thighs, and lets himself swell. The knot seems to stretch him, makes him feel like he's hitching forward impossibly further, and then the tip of his cock kisses just up against something deep within his lover. Burr flinches, a jerk of overstimulation, and Hamilton realizes he's touching the entrance to Burr's womb. Maybe Hamilton is just deeper than he's ever been; maybe the weight is resting heavy, just here. Burr is sensitive, and Hamilton is greedy.
The throb at the base of his cock swells and swells, and Hamilton knows it's bigger than usual, the intensity of his ardor expressing itself in the most primal, physical way possible.
"Do you feel it?" breathes Hamilton. "I'm as deep as I can be, Aaron. Fuck. Your cunt is so good, you feel so good on me. I want to fuck you all the time, I want to have you -- Aaron --"
He comes hard, with another twitch of his hips forward, like he could find a way to force himself further still. But Burr will feel: Hamilton's fingers gather up the slick between his legs and penetrate him, one, two fingers into Burr's ass. The other holds Burr's hips steady as he reaches within, stroking, stroking the walls of Burr's body in between his fingers and his knot.
"I can feel myself inside of you." Hamilton makes a soft, broken noise. "I can feel my knot. Aaron."
no subject
"Can I knot you?" Hamilton bursts out. He wants to be in Burr, deep as he can, until he knows nothing but the perfect, sweet grip of his cunt. It's been some time since they've had the chance, and though Hamilton had thought he was too exhausted, earlier, now he's aglow with fascination and breathless lust, elated. "Is it too late along? Are you still deep enough?" They can't easily, of course; the last time, Hamilton had to take him from behind, but now Hamilton thinks even that would be a strain with the extra weight.
He can never have enough of knotting Burr. Binding Burr to him, feeling from within every flicker of pleasure -- the way Hamilton fucks has changed completely over the last months, his unwavering focus now on using himself as an instrument of Burr's pleasure. God, and it's so much better than selfish rutting. Every time Burr climaxes, it's different: sometimes a sudden release of tension, sometimes cascades of little clenches, sometimes hard, rough spasms. But it's always delicious, always makes Hamilton's own that much better. He's ravenous to get Burr off as many times, as many ways, as possible, sweet rewards for the terrible, beautiful strain his body is under.
"Here," and he helps Burr settle onto his left side, a blanket tucked under his belly for a little additional support. Draws up the nightshirt, baring Burr's slim thighs and hips that seem too small for the weight on them. The heave of Burr's chest, the incredible swell of life that he carries.
"God," and Hamilton can't but stare, even though it's so dark in here, just the ember-glow to illuminate. "You're more beautiful all the time. You're a miracle." He pets Burr's waist, slides his hand down to curl around his length, which now actually presses up against his belly when it's erect. Hamilton coaxes it there, now, strokes that firm Burr up, make his cunt slick up. "Mm, I like you like this. You have to wait for what I give you." Fingertips trail in the slick between Burr's legs, a little bit of a tease, but really just making sure that Burr is wet enough that Hamilton fuck him, without hurting him. He is so much more careful than he used to be, no matter how Burr begs him for rough, hard fucking, because it does no one good to leave him so sore and used. Lovely as it is.
He lifts Burr's right leg, a bit, baring the wet entrance to his body. This way, he is above Burr, sort of coming at him from the side. No weight on Burr's abdomen, and Burr doesn't have to hold himself upright, and Hamilton can fuck him deep, deep. Too impatient, too needy to make Burr come once or twice, warm him up penetration, no -- he needs to be inside Burr now, needs to tie him and pleasure him and leave him marked and filthy with seed.
He rubs the head of his cock against Burr, smearing wet, and then sinks, sinks inside, that little flicker as Burr's body surrenders to the penetration. Slow, deep strokes, less about fucking than it is about stroking Burr from the inside. He is so deep this way, swallowed to the base of his cock, and inside Burr is liquid and heat. And tight, always tight, so it seems Hamilton's cock is always stretching him just bit more.
He does speed up, once Burr starts pleading, breathlessly. Thorough, deep strokes, and his hand all the while toying with Burr's cock, smearing the head of it on Burr's own belly.
It doesn't take long. Hamilton wants him so badly -- and this time, unlike their first, Hamilton presses deep, stroking Burr's thighs, and lets himself swell. The knot seems to stretch him, makes him feel like he's hitching forward impossibly further, and then the tip of his cock kisses just up against something deep within his lover. Burr flinches, a jerk of overstimulation, and Hamilton realizes he's touching the entrance to Burr's womb. Maybe Hamilton is just deeper than he's ever been; maybe the weight is resting heavy, just here. Burr is sensitive, and Hamilton is greedy.
The throb at the base of his cock swells and swells, and Hamilton knows it's bigger than usual, the intensity of his ardor expressing itself in the most primal, physical way possible.
"Do you feel it?" breathes Hamilton. "I'm as deep as I can be, Aaron. Fuck. Your cunt is so good, you feel so good on me. I want to fuck you all the time, I want to have you -- Aaron --"
He comes hard, with another twitch of his hips forward, like he could find a way to force himself further still. But Burr will feel: Hamilton's fingers gather up the slick between his legs and penetrate him, one, two fingers into Burr's ass. The other holds Burr's hips steady as he reaches within, stroking, stroking the walls of Burr's body in between his fingers and his knot.
"I can feel myself inside of you." Hamilton makes a soft, broken noise. "I can feel my knot. Aaron."