i_am_your_host | OOM - upstairs with Sinric

"As I want you." Sinric responds with equal fervour, pulling at Emcee's shirt in the search for skin. He arches back, offering up his throat as he presses against Emcee through their clothes.

Emcee breaks contact just long enough to pull his shirt off, before returning to Sinric's throat with his lips and tongue and teeth.

He slides his hands down the curve of his back. Grasping his waist, he raises his own hips underneath him, to press and grind against him. Emcee's desire can be felt quite plainly. The desire to experience pleasure again; the desire to connect.

Sinric moans as Emcee's hardness rubs against him, his breath hitching warmly with each brush of Emcee's teeth. He runs his hands over Emcee's chest, hinting at the brush of nails. They both need it a little rough and raw tonight.

He yanks at his sash, letting the layers of robe fall open as he tosses it onto the floor.

In his eagerness Emcee helps by pushing the sleeves down Sinric's arms. It feels good to touch him, to look at him as he bares himself. As they bare themselves to one another.

He dips his head, his breath falling hotly on Sinric's clavicle as he reaches down to undo the buttons on his own trousers.

Sinric gasps warmly as his robe falls off his shoulder, revealing one pert breast. It's always a thrill, the moment of reveal. Even with someone who knows him as well as Emcee does.

He turns to kiss Emcee's neck, lifting his weight off Emcee just enough to help Emcee get his pants open. He nips Emcee's earlobe, whispering breathless desire in his native Greek.

Emcee restrains himself from devouring Sinric for the moment as their fingers entangle in the joint effort to free his cock. He nuzzles the pit of his throat, lips pressing lower and lower down his chest.

He responds to Sinric's Greek with a lusty blend of German, French, and English, the languages intermingling almost naturally in his heightened state.

"Take me, darling, as I take you."

Sinric gives a breathless laugh as he closes his fingers around Emcee's manhood, not stroking so much as just feeling the heft of him between Sinric's delicate fingers.

"I would take you gladly." he quips in medieval Frankish, close enough to be understood as French, "But the phallus I would need is in my room."

He grabs Emcee's wrist, pushing his hand between Sinric's thighs, begging him to touch.

"Oh, well," he gasps, with mock-nonchalance, as Sinric takes hold of his flesh, "what we start here can be finished there."

The night is young after all.

He lets Sinric thrust his hand between his legs, and he smiles, nipping his collarbone as he slides his fingertips over and around his little cock. Fondling, stroking, cupping him in his warm palm damp with perspiration.

Sinric's laugh becomes a breathless moan, his hand slipping lower to fondle Emcee's jewels. This easy mutual touching lights him up with heat and desire.

"I have... new chambers." He breathes, leaning in to suck light marks over Emcee's throat. "The roof echoes sound so perfectly. To sing, to play." He shudders, his sensitive scar alive and humming. "Imagine how our pleasure will sound."

"Oh my god," he pants, tipping his head to the side as Sinric shifts his touch. He may be responding to the touch or the thought of the acoustics in Sinric's rooms, or both. "It would sound amazing..."

His other hand slides around to the small of Sinric's back, drawing his hips in closer. His middle fingertip teases his opening.

"My room here has not heard the sound of pleasure for some time. Let us fill it first, as a reminder?"

"Yes!" That could be a reaction to Emcee's suggestion or the finger teasing his entrance. Or both. It doesn't matter, the answer is most definitely yes.

His clever fingers find the knot of nerves just at the base of the head of Emcee's manhood, massaging it just so.

Emcee utters a throaty moan as Sinric finds just the right spot, pre-cum trickling over his wonderfully deft fingertips.

His own fingertip slides back and forth over his perineum with a come hither motion, his palm rubbing against his flesh.

Sinric moans against Emcee's throat, arching back to encourage Emcee to press deeper.

He swaps hands, bring his slickened fingers to his lips with a joyous whimper.

Emcee chases after Sinric's lips with his own tongue, swiping at his fingers to get a taste of himself. He probes him just a little deeper with massaging strokes.

"Will you ride me, darling?" he asks him breathlessly.

Sinric surges forward, kissing Emcee through his fingers, moaning roughly.

"Oh yes! Please, my mirror!"

"Then come..."

He moves his hand from between Sinric's thighs before resting both on his slender hips. Nestling back comfortably against the cushions, he spreads his knees wider.

He looks up at Sinric with dark, lusty eyes and licks his lips.

"Put me inside you."

Sinric raises himself up on those finely muscled dancer's thigh. Shedding his robes to reveal all of his slender form, he positions himself over Emcee.

One hand holding Emcee's manhood in place, he lowers himself slow, so slowly onto Emcee. Panting warmly and roughly as he feels himself opening to the heft of him.

Emcee drinks in the sight of his bare body, from his sinewy thighs to his breasts. And when he starts to lower himself onto his cock, it's all he can do do keep himself from thrusting into him. No, he wants to feel him taking him in, inch by inch. He watches himself disappear, being enveloped in hot, pulsating flesh.

"Yes... Oh, yes..."

He trembles with the strain of holding back. It's an exhilarating sort of tension.

It makes him feel alive.

Sinric's dark brown eyes pin him in place no less than the hands resting on Emcee's chest and shoulder. He holds Emcee's eye, holds his gaze for every breath and stretch and gasp as he lowers himself onto Emcee. Making the both feel it all the way.

Fully seated, he arches back with a gasp. "Yes!"

Emcee exhales a rough, rasping breath when he completely sinks down onto his lap. Then his fingertips tighten their grip, and he rolls his hips beneath Sinric, and thrusts upward. Just once, but deeply, to feel.

The single thrust forces a warm, rough gasp out of Sinric, his voice high and sweet. He closes his eyes, arching back just a little further to feel the stretch of his body, the depth of Emcee's manhood.

He starts to move slowly, his hands stroking down Emcee's chest and up again, trailing his nails.

Emcee purrs and sighs, keeping still for a moment as Sinric begins to move. He sweeps his palms up his sides, thumbs brushing over the soft swell of his breasts. And then he starts to move as well, just as slowly to match his pace.

Sinric's body tightens around him with a moan and a shudder at the first touch to his soft, ever sensitive breasts. It's an effort not to speed up there and then but he keeps the slow, rolling motion of his hips, feeling their bodies meet.

With a breathy moan, he cups his little breasts, chafing his nipples against his palms. Tipping his head, he presses his lips to the soft flesh, kissing and licking with gentle scrapes of this teeth.

Emcee can sense Sinric's urge to go faster; he feels the same thing. But just a little longer like this...

Sinric sings with joy, his nipples hardening. "Oh! Oh, Emcee!" He clenches tighter, his hips jerking in a moment of uncontrolled pleasure.

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