Prompted by The Bloke, written in the space of an hour. I hope he doesn’t mind me posting it here, just that I thought to share it with my fellow Fass-hOrs. It is, of course, Michael Fassbender we’re talking about….
At first glance, Michael seemed like a normal guy. Just the one you have a pint with. The one you can rely on to hide your porn collection from your parents after you die.
Not at all like this.
Not at all like the cock-hungry beast that was kissing me with the vigor of a man that had never had pleasure of another man’s lips before.
He pulled away and I felt slightly off-kilter. I wasn’t sure of his intentions, or what the night would turn out to be. All I knew is that she was watching. And it was enough to give me a rock hard erection.
I turned to her, tried to gauge what she was feeling. She was smiling like a little devil, and it was making me weaker in the knees than any woman had ever managed. I knew she had it in her. I knew she was a little slut waiting to happen.
Before I could flash a smile back at her, Michael forced me to turn back to him. He hissed into my ear in that destructively gorgeous Irish lilt.
“Oh, I’m going to have fun with you.”
He ripped my shirt open and got to working on my zipper, which he had opened in seconds. This all happened so fast, I barely had time to breathe. With that triumphant smirk on his face, he pulled down my boxers and uncovered my erection.
My heart was beating at speed that was surely dangerous. He pushed me onto the bed and leaned over me, looking like a menace.
“What do you want me to do to him?” he asked her. I turned to her again, watching her contemplate our options.
“Wreck him.” she chuckled eventually.
My breath caught in my throat, and I involuntarily made a stupid noise. Michael chuckled too. He cupped my face and kissed me again, sucking on my bottom lip. I had only known him for a few hours. But my body was ready to surrender to him.
His hand found a way to my straining cock and, whilst still kissing me, he clasped it, fingering the bead of precum on the head.
I shivered, moaned, wanted so much more. He kept teasing me, teasing the slut out of me.
“Fuck me, please.” I whispered.
He laughed, low and throaty. Fuck, I wanted him so much. I wanted him to fuck me like a demon.
“Not yet. Not just yet.”
He replaced his hand by his mouth, and I was lost for words, because the feeling was indescribable. So warm, and wet and fuck, I wanted him inside me. He licked the head, licked all the way down to my balls and I swear, I could hear him inhaling my scent.
I grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him onto my cock. I was greedy, hungry for his mouth and I wanted… I wanted so much.
But he was a tease. He pulled away from my cock and stood up from the bed.
“Don’t go away.” I whimpered.
“Oh, he’s not going anywhere, are you, Michael?” she said. I wondered if she was wet already. She probably was. I could make her wet at the snap of a finger. One could only imagine what the added sensation of Michael’s presence made her feel.
I looked up at him, and he smirked. And then I saw why. He was holding handcuffs. Fluffy ones. Hers, I bet. Although if they were his, the thought alone would make me shoot cum through the ceiling.
He had me sit up and cuffed my hands behind my back. Then he made me turn around.
“Good boy. Come on, arse in the air.”
I obeyed, because why shouldn’t I obey a fucking stunningly hot Irishman who was about to fuck me in the arse?
She, meanwhile, was trying to keep composure. But I couldn’t help smiling when I saw the damp patch on her knickers.
Whilst Michael got undressed, I had to ask her.
“Like you wouldn’t believe, darling. Watch me fuck myself, won’t you?”
She slipped her hand into her knickers and I watched as she fingered her pretty cunt. I relaxed. Such a familiar sight. Mixed with the familiar sound of lube being squeezed out of a bottle and rubbed onto a hard cock.
And then the tip. The tip of his cock, so tantalizingly close. I breathed frantically, looking at her, but she was just smiling. Giving her permission.
And then he slid into me. Goddamn, that felt so good. Slowly and surely, he slid. His hand snaked around and grabbed my cock. The sensation of his slow thrusts and his hand fisting my erection was like sweet death.
I could hear his breath. My breath. Her breath. Frantic, ragged.
“Yes, fuck him! Fuck him good!” she hissed, squirming in her seat. Her fingers went faster, faster, and so did his slick, hard cock, and oh my God, it was the purest of pleasure.
“Mmm… tight little bugger, are ya?” he grunted. “Delicious.”
So hard. So big. So fucking amazing inside me.
“Watch me. Watch me.” I murmured, as if under a spell. She smiled.
“I am. Make him cum, Michael.”
“Yes ma’am!” he grunted, breathing raggedly. He wasn’t going to last long. All eight inches of him were about to shoot hot jizz up my arse and I was so fucking ready to take all of it.
His thrusts and his jerks became faster and faster, and I could feel my balls tighten.
“Oh God!” I cried out, in an even higher register than I had expected. I shivered, my warm juices spilling over his fist. And then, still in the throes of my own orgasm, I could hear him cry out.
“Ah fuck!” he hissed, spilling his seed deep into my arse, with such a force that it trickled down my thigh onto the mattress.
Her little squeal signaled her climax too. She came laughing.
And I couldn’t help laughing too.
Sitting on the bed, with her in my arms and in Michael’s lap. Life couldn’t get any better. I sipped the complimentary champagne from one of those fancy flutes and clinked glasses with both of them.
“To deviance and depravity.” I said.
“And smut.” Michael added.
“And not to forget anal sex.” she chuckled, chucking down the champagne.
I smiled, holding her closer.