Part Four: Dance
There are sheets under his sister's bed, folded neatly and in tidy stacks. I grab the closest one, snapping it open with a fierce flap. Aya is sitting with his back against the poles of the bed, face flushed slightly and breathing quickly. Ah, so beautiful. Roughly I spread the sheet out. I am not putting it there to keep the carpet clean. I could care less what the nurses would think if they came in here and saw the evidence of what we're about to do. The only reason I'm doing this is because getting carpet burn during sex really sucks ass.
I turn on Aya from my crouched position at the edge of the sheet, my tongue darting out to lightly wet my lip in anticipation. Waiting time is over. I want him *now*. As if he can sense my thoughts, he presses himself back against the bed. He wants this, but not from an enemy. He's scared of this- scared that it'll hurt, scared that he'll like it, scared that we'll be caught. Skittish, skittish virgin. I crawl towards him, reaching out and snagging his wrist. He hesitates, resists- then, as I tug again, he allows me to pull him forward.
I take his other arm to bring him up against me, catching his mouth and smirking inwardly at the way his lips opens to me almost immediately. I sweep my tongue inside, tasting him, memorizing the inside of his mouth, urging him to respond to my advances. Tentatively he obeys. I drop my hands from their positions on his wrist and upper arm, carressing his flesh as my fingers move to completely remove his shirt. At the same time I guide him backwards until he is sitting on the sheet. Now his tongue plays with mine, and we war in his mouth, flesh meeting flesh roughly before melting together in a dance much like the one the rest of our bodies are about to partake in.
His shirt is discarded as we take a breather. One of his hands is touching my shirt, his long fingers tracing a button in hesitant inquiry. I grab his other wrist and move it so that both of his hands are on the buttons. He obeys the silent order, fingers shaking but still nimble enough that he can undo the buttons and slide the garment back over my shoulders. His fingers, as they brush against my exposed flesh, are no longer cold, but warm with life and hot blooded passion. I take my shirt from him and toss it aside impatiently, then press my hands to his silk skin. My fingers close around a nipple and I push and tug at it to create little sparks of pleasure within the redhead. He gasps, hands moving along my freshly exposed skin. He is forced to move his explorations to my back when I lean forward to take the other nipple in my mouth. I lightly tease at the nub, grinning as I feel it harden. Aya squirms as I continue to mercilessly play with him.
"Schuldich," he pants, a plea, fingernails lightly scratching across my shoulder blades. I move my mouth upwards, trailing my tongue along his delicious chest, and trace my fingers downward. With my knee I push him backwards so that he lies on the sheet. I climb on top of him with a lazy grace, hooking my legs around his and laying flat so that our bared chests can finally brush against each other. Skin against skin...lovely. I move so that my clothed erection and his free one slide against each other, groaning deep in my throat and delighting in the choked cry that escapes him and the way his eyes dilate. I want to see him completely without control, completely free of his mask and chained to me.
I catch his lips in a soul-searing and breath-snatching kiss, plundering the sweet recess of his mouth. He is kissing me back from the start, fighting for dominance. I give in to him bit by bit, drawing him into my own mouth. He follows, his courage fading slightly as he enters new territory, and he explores me with a hesitant tongue. I encourage him by rocking slightly on top of him, sending a stream of passion and desire straight through our cores. His fingers dig into me briefly before sweeping down my arms and onto my chest. His fingertips brush across one of my nipples, surprising me enough that I jump slightly. He senses the sudden catch in my movements and goes back to play with the nub some more. I groan, feeling the sparking pleasure from the manipulation pool into heat and sink directly to my groin.
I pull my mouth from his to suck harshly at his throat, creating a red mark there like the mark that is starting to fade on his collarbone. Our fingers continue to tease at each other's flesh and I rock back and forth against him to keep time with our harsh breathing. This time he moves up against me to add more friction, and we both moan at the flares of sensation. Ara~! A cooperative Aya in sex is a very, very good Aya.
Enough is enough. I'm wearing too many clothes. I slide off of him, ignoring his protest, undoing my pants and kicking them away. Aya seems to get the hint and starts to get his own slacks the rest of the way off. His hands are shaking too much so I go to help him, nipping at his mouth in a rough, demanding kiss while our hands yank his pants and briefs down. With a wriggle on his part the clothes come free and are cast away.
Finally, we are both naked. My eyes hungrily roam over his figure. Perfection, absolute perfection. Pale, silk smooth skin and long graceful limbs. His purple eyes take in my exposed body and erection, and I hear his threads of worry and mixed apprehension.
/Too big...How...?/ His cheeks flush and he tears his eyes away to fix his gaze on the sheet he is lying on.
I laugh at him. "You stretch, Aya."
He shoots me a half-hearted glare for entering his mind and for mocking him, but the expression is cleared away when I crawl to him. I tug to get him onto his hands and knees, and he moves obediently. I drape myself on his back, wrapping one arm around his chest and the other around his waist, splaying my fingers across his erection. My body seems to cup perfectly to his.
Hah. My body cups perfectly to everyone's when I'm screwing them.
I lightly rock against him, pressing my erection against the crack of his rear. He inhales sharply, rocking back to further the pleasure building in him at this new sensation. We rock back and forth on the sheet as I trail my teeth along his back, our swaying melting into one fluid movement, our breaths coming harshly and loudly as coherent thought is pushed away by desire and lust. Time seems to freeze as we continue to sway together, until I am starting to lose my grip on the here-and-now by the primal urge to just grab and fuck.
I am prepared for this. I release Aya and bring myself on shaking limbs to my pants. He protests my absence. "Soon," I assure him, rummaging in the pockets. Where?...Ah! My fingers close on a small vial and I remove it from the confines of the cloth, unscrewing the lid. I move back towards him and begin to coat my fingers. The smell of dark musk and cinnamon fills the air from it as I liberally lubricate my long digits. Aya's hair has fallen into his face, and he tilts his head to remove it as much as to watch what I'm doing. I plant a small kiss at the base of his spine, trailing a finger down through his crack before pressing in.
He stiffens, hissing, his entire back going rigid. /It hurts.../
//It'll get much better.// I don't want him to clench down and push me back out. He is unaccustomed to this neccessary pain- as much as I was every time I was taken in my past. Of course, I was never bottom willingly, but I don't care to think about that right now. I reach around him with my free hand, stroking at his erection to distract him. Pain and pleasure counter each other, but it is barely enough. I add a second finger, stretching him by spreading them and turning them, and he utters a quiet sound of pain.
I don't answer. I'm too busy looking for something.
Now...Where is it?...
I take a gamble and twist my fingers upwards, my eyes on Aya's face to watch his reaction. It will either be a yell or- his eyes fly wide, his mouth opens in a silent shout, and his entire body arches at the touch.
Looks like I found it. Heh.
I add a third finger and he almost doesn't notice over the pleasure I am stroking into him. I drop my hand from his erection to coat my own, shivering slightly as the cold oil comes in contact with my hard flesh. I move to ready myself for his entrance. Aya is pleading soflty, asking me to finish this for him. I withdraw my fingers, taking pleasure in the disappointed sound he makes. I hesitate a moment, holding his hips to keep him still, my eyes trailing over him. Little virgin Weiß no more.
I shove in. He claws at the sheet, trying to keep upright although his entire body screams at him to duck away from my intrusion. It seems he cannot hold himself up, and I tighten my grip on his hips. I remember what it was like the first time I was taken. I felt like I was being split in two, and that is how he feels now. I move one hand around and down to pull at his erection briefly, trying to counter the feeling. It doesn't help much, I know, but I finally make it all the way in.
We both pause, Aya's breaths coming ragged and quickly. His body is slowly adjusting to me, and his mind is screaming over the pain. He is so deliciously tight, so invitingly warm. I close my eyes briefly, a slight smile twisting at my lips. He feels wonderful. I want to give in and take him now, but that will just ruin all of my hard work. Slow. Careful. Pf.
He is as ready as he will ever be. I picture in my mind where his special spot is, and pull myself out. I can hear his teeth slide against each other as he clenches them, trying not to scream at the pain. I aim myself to drive in at the perfect angle. This will wipe away all of his pain. I shove in.
"Oh *God*!" he cries, taken completely by surprise.
Again and again I rock into him, driving deeper but striking his sweet spot every time with infallible aim. Two pleasures intoxicate me- physical from the sex we're having, mental from the soft cries and urges of the willowy man beneath me. We lose ourselves to the rythmm. I watch my sweat fall to his back and trail down his flesh, my hand tugging at his erection to bring him closer to release. My mouth lowers to move on his back, tasting his skin. It is salty from sweat, his and mine, but there is something delicious about that.
How long we continue to dance like this I am not sure, but release draws close to both of us finally. Aya goes first, his entire body going rigid as he expels himself onto the sheet. I am only a few pumps behind, and when I am satiated I allow myself to hang on his back for a moment longer. Finally I pull free, lowering myself to the sheet. He collapses, unable to hold himself up any longer, but is careful not to fall into his own mess.
I stretch to pull out another sheet, not bothering to unfold it but placing it over the mess. I lay down and pull him to me, cupping his back to my chest. One of my arms is bent to act as a pillow for my head and the other is lightly draped around his chest. We lay in silence. Aya is trying to get his mind back in order after the shock and rush of sex, but he is too exhausted to do so.
"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" I ask him, laughing quietly in his ear. He is apparently too tired to answer out loud, though he murmurs something rude distractedly in his mind, knowing I'll hear it. I can hear his answer to the question though. He did like it. I knew he would. I watch as he is tugged away to dreamland, whispering one last thing in his ear before he is too far away to not hear me.
"I hope your sister appreciated the show."
Then he is gone. I continue to rest against him for a while longer. This night went well.
I settle Aya in the chair, taking a step back to sweep my gaze over the room. Aya is still asleep, and so worn out that he does not wake when I moved him from the floor. He is now fully dressed and in his chair by his sister's bed. Earlier I took Aya's abandoned drink, left sitting on his sister's bedside table, and dumped it on the sheet. A cleaning lady was outside around then, and I just put the sheet in her mop water when she looked the other way.
The room is tidy. No sign of the sex we just had is left to be seen.
I look over at Aya's dozing form. I don't want him to think this was just a dream, so I have left a small reminder to him that this actually happened- the shirt he is wearing is mine.
I lean over him, kissing his forehead. "That was fun. Farewell." I turn and leave the room, nodding to an orderly who is about to enter, a smirk curved on my lips. I love it when I am given such enjoyable work.