[Gepard's hands are warm against his thighs when he parts them, and they open easily, readily for him, like he was meant to be there.]
[They should do this more often. If he asked Sampo, he'd gladly sneak into Gepard's office again and let the good Captain rail him over whatever piece of furniture he pleased. There are other big, antique pieces around this office, surely they could use a little christening.]
[And, really, let's be honest. In the centuries of history in this building, the many decades that this desk has sat here, who wants to bet that Gepard is the first man to bring his lover in and have him on it?]
[He's not wrong, though, in saying that there are easier places for their trysts. Part of the appeal of his office is the danger, the risk of being caught. But it's not like Sampo will turn him down in other places, he'd just as happily sleep with him in his office or a hotel room. (He's not quite optimistic enough to think that the good Captain would ever invite him back to his home. Both because, well, he's a thief, and because you don't bring your dirty secrets back to dirty your own bed.)]
Y-yeah, oh--
[There's the blunt pressure of Gepard pressing against him, then the slow inward push, his hard cock spreading Sampo open on its girth. It breaches him easier than it did the first time, when Sampo had been too impatient for more than some quick preparation, but feels just as good. Still makes him groan at the stretch and the burn, at the achingly slow pace of his hips. There's a certain hedonistic delight to really dragging out every sensation, savoring every jittering spark of pleasure that runs up your spine; Sampo isn't sure if that's the category that Gepard's falling into right now, or if he's trying a new method of solving his conman problem by killing him softly. But what a way to go.]
[He slings his arms around Gepard's neck and drags him in, down to kiss him again. It's the best way to keep quiet, to keep from moaning loud enough that someone would almost certainly stop to check in on them. And that would cut their tryst short no matter how deep in Sampo's ass Gepard is.]
[Sampo shifts his hips to help with the angle; he's rewarded with Gepard's cock slipping in further, knocking a gasped, harsh noise from his throat. His fingers dig into the heavy muscle of Gepard's back, holding on like that's his sole grip on this earth.] Oh. Oh, that's--
[Good. Great. Addicting, even, a guy could get hooked on the hot, heavy weight of this pretty cock in his guts. And by 'a guy' he means him, it's him, and it's not fair that Gepard Landau has a cock that feels this good. One that makes him want to bend over and get his guts rearranged. He's going to keep wanting this, and it's such a bad idea but he's also never been good at resisting temptation, so he really can't be the one here that's supposed to make good choices.]
Good.
[His voice is breathy, soft. He can't wait for Gepard to fuck him so good that he can't talk at all.]
no subject
[They should do this more often. If he asked Sampo, he'd gladly sneak into Gepard's office again and let the good Captain rail him over whatever piece of furniture he pleased. There are other big, antique pieces around this office, surely they could use a little christening.]
[And, really, let's be honest. In the centuries of history in this building, the many decades that this desk has sat here, who wants to bet that Gepard is the first man to bring his lover in and have him on it?]
[He's not wrong, though, in saying that there are easier places for their trysts. Part of the appeal of his office is the danger, the risk of being caught. But it's not like Sampo will turn him down in other places, he'd just as happily sleep with him in his office or a hotel room. (He's not quite optimistic enough to think that the good Captain would ever invite him back to his home. Both because, well, he's a thief, and because you don't bring your dirty secrets back to dirty your own bed.)]
Y-yeah, oh--
[There's the blunt pressure of Gepard pressing against him, then the slow inward push, his hard cock spreading Sampo open on its girth. It breaches him easier than it did the first time, when Sampo had been too impatient for more than some quick preparation, but feels just as good. Still makes him groan at the stretch and the burn, at the achingly slow pace of his hips. There's a certain hedonistic delight to really dragging out every sensation, savoring every jittering spark of pleasure that runs up your spine; Sampo isn't sure if that's the category that Gepard's falling into right now, or if he's trying a new method of solving his conman problem by killing him softly. But what a way to go.]
[He slings his arms around Gepard's neck and drags him in, down to kiss him again. It's the best way to keep quiet, to keep from moaning loud enough that someone would almost certainly stop to check in on them. And that would cut their tryst short no matter how deep in Sampo's ass Gepard is.]
[Sampo shifts his hips to help with the angle; he's rewarded with Gepard's cock slipping in further, knocking a gasped, harsh noise from his throat. His fingers dig into the heavy muscle of Gepard's back, holding on like that's his sole grip on this earth.] Oh. Oh, that's--
[Good. Great. Addicting, even, a guy could get hooked on the hot, heavy weight of this pretty cock in his guts. And by 'a guy' he means him, it's him, and it's not fair that Gepard Landau has a cock that feels this good. One that makes him want to bend over and get his guts rearranged. He's going to keep wanting this, and it's such a bad idea but he's also never been good at resisting temptation, so he really can't be the one here that's supposed to make good choices.]
Good.
[His voice is breathy, soft. He can't wait for Gepard to fuck him so good that he can't talk at all.]