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Few times had Andrew and Aesop planned their moments of passion. More often than not desire sprung up on them with no prior warning, so it was a given that neither had time to prepare themselves.
Tonight however, Andrew had been long anticipating the next time he would get to delve into debauchery with his partner. So while Aesop had been away, competing in a match, Andrew refined himself in the ways he felt necessary. Cleaning up his nails, which gathered dirt from his use of abilities in matches of his own. Aesop had taught him self care that the grave keeper previously neglected before his association with the embalmer. He practiced these learned acts of love now. Once the grime from his nails had been thoroughly cleaned, and the nails themselves filed neatly to the ends of his fingers, the grave keeper showered, washing his hair that he often allowed to go too long between cleanings. He scrubbed his body anew, feeling butterflies as he did so.
Aesop liked him best fresh from a shower, with Andrew smelling of the Manor’s provided soaps and lotions, lavender and bergamot lathered into scarred skin. It was more inclined to lace his lips precarious places when the grave keeper was a fresh slate for his tongue. Andrew felt warmth bloom from within as he considered this, hot water running him clean of the lather of soap which bubbled along his ivory limbs. He liked it best when Aesop used his teeth, biting tense muscle and rosen flesh blushed from attention and affection. His own hands now worked over his shoulders, imagining the delight of the embalmer’s mouth here, sucking patterned purple bruises into alabaster. His palm slid down the broadness of his own chest, thum gliding over the bundle of nerves that set him alight when it was the touch of his beloved. His own hand hardly provided the same effect.
His arousal was slowly growing stiff from his own temptations, and though it was an eager and desirous thought to avoid the anticipation and finish his wants off here and now, he placeated himself. Tonight, he wanted to divulge to Aesop his every delusion, the series of wanderous imaginings tucked away within his mind for no soul but his own.
Andrew collected himself from the shower and brought himself back to the comforts of his bedroom which he tidied for the affair he hoped to indulge tonight. He had already asked Aesop earlier in the day, to find his way back to the grave keeper’s room once the match was done with.
Andrew redressed in only a loosely fitting white shirt which billowed in the sleeves and buttoned down his chest. He knew his partner to like the look of him in the finer threads the Manor provided. He knew that also, Aesop was fond of how light colors looked on him, a stark contrast to Andrew's everyday wear. ‘Angelic’, he'd said was the effect it had on Andrew.
After combing his hair, Andrew slipped onto his bed and laid back, filling his mind with every filthy thought he'd had in the days between the last time he'd had the chance to be intimate with his partner.
While he ruminated on these thoughts, he took to touching himself. His hands running over his chest, tracing his scars, not because it brought him pleasure to do so, but because it was a habit of Aesop’s. Therein it warmed Andrew thoroughly now, to touch the places he knew his lovers hands would roam were they present. His thumb dragged the jagged edge of a line that ran diagonally over his stomach and crossed his chest, a line and ended abruptly before his nipple. The pad of his fingers teased the idea of toying with the junction of nerves but only skirted around the pink flesh a moment before tenderly retracing another trail of healed tissue mended by time. This one ran up the Grave keeper’s side and fell off the flesh just before the rise of his hip. Here, Aesop would grab firmly where bone jutted beneath skin marbled by scar tissue. Andrew lightly tensed his fingers there, his blunt nails nothing like Aesop’s which were longer from lack of rough labor.
His body chorused with the memory of lavished attention, his skin raising like gooseflesh as he imagined his hands were not his own. His hand rose to smooth over the structure of his neck, along his collarbone and up his jaw. His own thumb dragging over his lips- raw with the worry of his teeth. If his thumb belonged to his beloved, then it would have instead prodded between lips rather than tamely passing over the chapped skin.
Needing to tempt his desires further, he did so anyway, prodding his own thumb past his mouth, feeling his teeth graze the digit, his tongue wrap the smooth pad of his otherwise callous hands. Knowing it would be Aesop's own eagerness to do so, he used the spit slick fingertip to tease the tender pink places upon his chest. His breath rose and fell with a shaking quality that came with his delight in the action. His eyes fluttered shut, a sigh sinking into the air from his lungs.
Everything about what he did was devilish. He was a sinner to have entertained even a minute of these selfish desires. He wondered now, if up above he was watched while he disgraced his body in the privacy of his own room. He hoped if the angels in heaven were all encompassing, all seeing, that they turned away now to allow him some final shred of his dignity.
The hand that did not tamper with his chest, he brought to his mouth and with some reluctance to do so, Andrew spit into his palm before reaching for the ache of his sex, now fully stiffened with arousal. His mouth fell open as he wrapped his hand around his length, he took measured breaths as he stroked himself, slow in pace, gentle in the firmness of his grip. Aesop would hold him firmer, would tease him expertly until the grave keeper was seeing white. But Andrew wanted to take his time.
This idea had struck his fancy while in idle contemplation the day prior, he had been considering his favorite things about sex, which was far more pleasant than worrying his guilt on the matter. The list was nonsensical and in no particular order. He enjoyed how the act put an end to his ceaseless thinking. Peril and anxieties could not breathe in the same air as passion. He delighted in the closeness that encompassed the whole of it- an all encompassing exchange of senses of likes he never imagined he would desire. It was easy to want Aesop this way. It hadn’t been at first. Though Andrew had found himself fascinated with every detail of Aesop’s impeccable god given design the more they interacted with one another, touch was a complex beast for the both of them to face. But this too had been a delight, the time between the onset of wanting and the moment that wanting became more- a fruition.
Sex was best when you had wanted longer. Like a starved man, food tasted richer, sweeter and saltier to the tongue when it had naught to taste in days. Andrew had done nothing but ignore the hunger that panged inside his very human soul, for years.
He wanted to feel the same elation tonight which he had felt the first night he experienced the privilege of Aesop’s affection. He wanted to swim in the seduction of his lover’s voice and velveteen touch. So he worked himself over slow, feeling the girth of his cock throb with every languid pass of his hand. The knot in his stomach drew tighter, anticipation rising for more, for anything more. Such that he would not allow himself. He drew in a breath, his spit slick palm sliding up his length to stop at the head of his cock. Pressing his lips together, he gently rocked his hips into the warm friction of his fist, squeezing himself tight at the base as the stimulation began to build.
Aesop’s knock came at the door sooner than Andrew had expected meaning the match had either been a breezy success or a dreadfully quick execution. The grave keeper tore a sheet over his lower half, pacing his breaths before answering the gentle rap of knuckles at his bedroom door.
“Come in-!” He swallowed down the bundle of nerves he'd had over this moment. He'd never surprised Aesop like this, there was a chance the embalmer would be too wrought from his day to entertain what had been so carefully arranged for him. Covertly, he may be amused by Andrew's efforts, and play the game of desire.
The handle clicked upon entry, Aesop sliding his slender frame into the bedroom, gently snapping the door behind him.
“Went over better than I expected given our line up, not one decoder- however that happened I don't know.” Aesop said all of this in lieu of hello, eyes glued to the gloves which be peeled off of his hands, and then his attention was wrapt in his mask and as to where he would leave it until he returned to his own comforts. It was as he laid the thin fabric on Andrew's desk that he thought to locate the man and soak up his image. The man of his affections was already in bed, in a loosely fitting white bed shirt, his hair damp implying it had been washed as it did not cling to the grave keeper’s head in it's usual fashion. His cheeks were petal pink with colour.
“Hello… An..drew?” His greeting was slow, processing the information laid before him, eyes finding the grave keeper’s hands discreetly hidden beneath the thin white sheets the Manor provided.
“Hi” the blonde was breathless, his eyes fluttered shut as his nerves were stoked by the combination of his own touch and Aesops voice.
“Is.. there any particular reason you've turned in so early..?” He wanted to hear his presumptions fall from Andrew's mouth. It scratched some silent delight deep within the mortician.
“A reason I hoped you might help me with.” His hand, which had stilled on his cock gave a firm squeeze as he slid his palm over the length from base to tip. His spine quaked with pleasure, an electric feeling soaked him from head to toe.
Intrigued, Aesop crossed the room to his beloved and peeled back the sheet which Andrew gingerly let go of, revealing his aroused state and his desperate attempts to begin to sate it. His skin was flushed, his dick hard and weeping in his hand.
“What train of thought led you here?”
“To be plainly honest, the thought of you.”
The still unfamiliar feeling of appreciation and attraction crept over Aesop, beginning in his shoulders and warming the rest of his body pleasantly.
“This,” Aesop fitted himself beside Andrew in the space to his left, and lifted a hand reaching for the display of the larger man's body. First it passed under the veil of a shirt buttoned only towards the middle to keep it together over Andrew's form. His deft fingertips drag over scars, landing on the unattended nerves of the man's chest, twisting and pinching rosen nipples one after the other before dragging his hand back low anticipatingly slow.
“Is all because of me?” His hand slipped over Andrew's wrapped fist, guiding the man to stroke his own hardened arousal under his smaller hand.
“How, tell me?”
Andrew closed his eyes and gratefully followed Aesop’s lead, shuddering with the intensity of all he felt.
“My mind wandered to… the many ways I've wanted you.” His breath hitched as Aesop quickened the pace at which he was satisfied.
“And how exactly have you thought of me, Andrew?” Stone grey eyes locked on the grave keeper’s translucent ruby irises, challenging him to further renounce himself of purity by reciting tempestuous filth.
“Carnally, spread over my bed… Poised in my lap, in nothing but bare skin.” Andrew’s words were tight and without air, he tried to withdraw his hand but found that Aesop held the limb in place, his own hand affixed over the grave keeper’s.
“And what is it you do in these imaginings?”
“Aesop-” Andrew tries to disregard the question, a whine of a groan being pulled from his mouth as Aesop’s hand leaves the man to his own touch.
The mortician stood and began to peel layers of clothing off one by one. Andrew readjusted himself on the bed, leaving his length untouched and heavy over his stomach.
“If I splayed my body out before you now, what will you do to me Andrew? Can you show me what it is you’ve desired to do?”
Andrew watched in rapt wonder, as clothing fell away to reveal the splendid shape of the embalmer’s body. His chest with its subtle slope of plump tissue, his waist which fell into violin angles before meeting the down of silver hair adorning his sex.
“If it is your desire to know, I will indulge by way of doing. For all that I have longed for is too much to stitch to words.”
Aesop was greedily satisfied with this response, eager to see Andrew lose himself in his lust. Once free of all clothing, Aesop untied his hair, discarding the loop of ribbon which usually kept it neatly to the back of his skull, shaking out silver tresses. Afterward, he crawled into bed, over Andrew in what almost felt predatory in nature, on hands and knees
Andrew felt it now, the imposing sense of presence that encompassed Aesop in even the most mundane of moments. In bed, it was intoxicating, somewhat intimidating. Andrew leaned in to meet the man who crawled into his lap, the pair’s mouths met like they had been magnetically fashioned to do so when near in proximity. Andrew stole a number of chaste kisses before Aesop devilishly prodded for more by means of tongue and teeth, the blonde obliged, splitting the seam of his mouth to allow the muscle of Aesop’s tongue to tangle with his own. Andrew’s hands leapt for the other man’s neck, fingers slipping to his nape, tangling with the soft locks of Aesop’s hair.
Andrew felt then, the all consuming nature of this love. Its ins and outs. His body was no longer a secret to the entire world. Someone knew the feeling of his wet maw split open in acceptance of tongue, finger and the slick heat of petal pink folds. That very someone knew the taste of his spit like he knew his own. It was a filthy demoralizing exchange that Andrew endeavored to repeat. Again and again.
The predatory animal that Aesop was lurched back, resting on his heels, his chin lofty as his eyes peeled apart the man beneath him with his gaze. Andrew had imagined himself pinning the embalmer beneath his own willowy limbs, devouring every inch of the man whom he admired in an almost godly fashion. But Aesop was eager to take, devour, and please the man who long contemplated the ways to please him.
Andrew was ready to allow him, to surrender his own fantasies to participate in whatever wonder was presented to him.
Aesop made a slow show of licking his palm, coating the skin in a sheen with the languid swipes of his tongue. He took Andrew's girth into his hand, working over his stiffened length tantalizingly careful, paying attention to his taut balls, rolling them between his fingers; stroking him over slow and firm, alternating padding over the slit of his cock and wrapping the head with the warmth of his palm. Andrew’s head tilted back, eyes pressed tightly shut, his hands slipping down to grip the bone and flesh of Aesop’s hips.
Aesop lifted his hips and arranged himself to loom over the man's aching sex which had developed a flush in swollen anticipation. The mortician guided the man's cock to his dripping entrance, licking his lips which rolled to press together as he lowered himself over the penetrating feeling of Andrew's thick dick. His jaw slackened, lips splitting to reveal a glimmer of his perfect teeth. He was marvelous to behold, a painted image of devotion to the intoxication sin provided. Andrew's gaze split to take in the sight, he took a lungful of air in and let it go as a sigh, his eyes glassy in ardor.
Aesop huffed a breath, tilting his own head to the side, slightly back, his arms adjusting behind his body as he got used to more and more inside of him.
“Oh my-” the blonde spoke feverishly, as though his vocabulary failed him entirely after he mustered up two measly syllables.
Having taken no time to stretch himself properly prior, the intrusion of Andrew's size did burn, but not unpleasantly so.
“It never ceases to fascinate me just how intricately I can feel you from inside.” Aesop said with consideration in his softened tone. “The ridge of your cockhead, I can feel it as I take you deeper.” He lifted his hips some, though he had not taken the man's entire length, it felt good to tease just beyond the tip, Aesop relished in the glide against his insides. He hummed in appreciation for the friction splitting him open at his desired pace.
“I can feel you as well,” Andrew took a shaking breath as more of his dick pressed into the embalmer's waiting cunt. “The grooves within your heat, they wrap me completely.”
Aesop loved hearing Andrew's holy mouth sullied with the lewd descriptions of their body twined like this. It was a rarity he let himself loose like this.
Emboldened by his partner's delight, Aesop lowered his weight further, taking the rest of the man's length in one smooth slow slide. He sighed as the completeness overtook his insides, he never managed to feel so full by any other method than the man bottoming out beneath him.
Aesop’s expression was somehow still bordering on stoicism even though he had some ten inches occupying a space usually empty. The organ pressed every delightful place inside of him, to move was to light a thousand separate fires all in the one place they connected. The slide of Andrew's cock would allow him to feel the drag of the man's weeping dickhead against his walls; if he ground his hips just right, angling his ass back, his clit came to contact with heated skin and the firmness of the intrusion within.
The pace he set at first was deliberately slow, finding in every downward drop a new way to stimulate them both. He could grind his hips in a circular motion as he fell into the grave keeper's lap, lift and lower himself in one straight motion- and the depths that Andrew’s cock satisfied nearly met a painful measure; were it not for the pleasure that diluted the fact he perhaps was taking more than his body was meant to.
Andrew's breaths were audible desperate things leaving his lungs in rapid precession, his fingers tightened bruisingly so on Aesop’s hips. He was resisting the urge to slam his hips upward into the man above him- as well as the urge to set a demanding pace by using his hold on Aesop’s hips to force him up and down on his cock.
Aesop looked as good as Andrew pictured. Poised on his arousal, seeking out the fruition of his needs. Using the body beneath him selfishly. Andrew whined as Aesop picked up pace, bringing him closer and closer to the peak of his euphoria. Aesop gasped as a severe lift and drop of his body set his nerves alight, whiting his vision for the briefest second. The mortician's hands came forward, palms grazing the man's torso, stopping at his chest as he threw his hips back onto Andrew's dick in quick tempo. Andrew groaned, giving into his desires at last, thrusting his hips in time with Aesop’s downward drop, eliciting hollow shouts of pleasure from them both. Aesop’s fingernails dug into the pale scared skin under his touch, lewd degenerate sounds being drug out from him by force as Andrew now used the man's hips, pulling him down onto the intrusion of his swollen arousal.
“Andrew-! Oh!” The silver haired man balled his hands into fists, spine going slack as he allowed his body to be used like a rag doll made with this intent. To be pliantly fucked into, to drench the sex of another, and milk it to completion.
“God-! Don't stop!” The whine of Aesop’s voice darkened with authority in those last two words, who was Andrew to disobey? The blonde used his partner, seeking the blinding hot feeling of coming undone. The embalmer sat back up, allowing his beloved a better view of his body. Andrew's eyes took advantage of the scene above him, Aesop’s usually stoney expression was stripped from him, replaced by rapture. The slight swell of his chest bounced with the force of his body being rocked into. Finally, his eyes fell on where their bodies bled into one another. He gasped as the sight, an open mouthed groan spilling from his sinful lips. His thick length was slick from Aesop’s arousal, it disappeared seamlessly into the smaller man’s body, like there had been no resistance at all when this interaction began.
It was just a few collisions of their bodies later that Andrew found the spool of his delight unraveling. His vision went dark as his pace fell out of time, more slowly he lowered the other onto his twitching shaft. He made no effort to remove himself from the other, instead he emptied the entirety of his load into the wet cunt of his beloved. Aesop took control once more as Andrew's body lost its tension. The embalmer lifted and dropped his hips, grinding on the downfall, his spine quivered as he thought about his lover's seed forced deeper within, spilling in overflow, leaking down his partner's sex which hadn't softened any. Aesop panted and moaned, head falling back as he found the right tempo and force to satisfy the deepest place which pushed him to climax. The pair did not separate immediately, Aesop collapsed onto the man's chest, gathering his breath.
Andrew's hands ghosted over his body, gliding over his back, shoulders, drifting into soft silver hair. The embalmer relaxed further, humming into the comforting gentle touch after the immense intensity of the moments before.
Not long did he linger in this exact place, Aesop sat up, peeling their bodies apart, wiping his lower half with a piece of discarded clothing. As he did so, he caught sight of his lover, pristine under his gaze, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. He had rolled over, burying his head in a pillow as he retethered himself to the world. The embalmer’s tongue prodded past his teeth, touching his top lip in idle thought.
“I want to do something else with you before we retire for the night.” Aesop arranged himself to be sitting on the edge of the bed. He turned to Andrew, who flipped halfway to look at his partner once more.
“Come lie across my lap.”
***
Andrew obeyed, in a blissful haze like this, there were few things he would not do per Aesop’s request. The man had just provided him irreplaceable bliss not easily attained. The blonde crawled over to Aesop’s sitting form, all shaking limbs and nervous excitement. Aesop guided his body, Andrew’s hips laid gently against Aesop’s thighs, his heavy cock very aware of the friction of the embalmer’s smooth skin.
The mortician’s hands smoothed over the bare flesh of Andrew’s ass, nails dragging lightly over skin to tease the bite of pain, something Andrew was not in opposition to in a matter of sexual appetites. The larger man shivered as touch that had bordered on delicate met a shift in nature, nails digging slightly as they roved over tender skin.
“If this isn’t okay, stop me.”
Aesop’s voice was firm yet kind, Andrew nodded his head in understanding, his body warm with anticipation to be the device of Aesop’s desires. The silver haired man smoothed his palm over one side of his beloved's ass, before drawing his hand back to smack the alabaster skin. Andrew’s body drew tight for an instantaneous moment, before it recoiled into ease, a tremor passing through his spine.
“Again?-" In the moment Andrew asked, Aesop brought his hand back down on the other cheek, causing the pale flesh to blush in a rosy handprint. Andrew gasped at the stinging feeling, his hips rocking slightly in reaction to the force behind Aesop’s hand. His dick twitched as it was granted friction from the small movement. He pressed his lips together again, paying innate attention to the smooth caress of the embalmer’s touch on his bare body.
“You like this?” Aesop drew his hand back and landed it firmly in the same spot as his last blow. The sound of the satisfying slap resounded between them, pleasing Aesop, inclining him to repeat the action on the other side of his partner’s ass. Andrew nodded feebly, gripping the sheets.
“I’m going to take things a step further now.” Aesop warned, a gentle touch warming the skin reddened by his own hand. Andrew nodded once more, mind a scramble beyond words. He trusted Aesop perhaps more than wise. In this state, he would allow Aesop to pick him apart, dissect him and piece him back together again.
Aesop brought his own hand to his mouth, putting one finger past his lips, then another. He wet the digits thoroughly, wanting to make this as comfortable as he could for Andrew, who to his knowledge, had never tried something of this sort. Andrew licked his lips, his attention was pleasantly split between the heat between his legs aching for more, and the anticipation of whatever Aesop was going to do with him. There was another sharp slap to his backside which effectively snapped his train of thought which lamented on his throbbing cock. Andrew’s hips stuttered again with the sting, causing him to moan in delight as shockwaves rocked his body. Aesop gripped one cheek, gently tugging it with his grip, his other hand seeking out Andrew’s most intimate place. His wet fingers traced the tight rim of muscle.
“This will feel foreign, I will need you to relax, angel.” The grave keeper tilted his head to look back at Aesop only a moment, before relaxing back in his position, nodding and pressing his face into a pillow he’d drawn to himself at some point during this experiment of theirs.
Aesop pressed one finger past Andrew’s entrance, slow enough to allow the man to adjust knuckle by knuckle. Andrew hadn’t known what to think of the feeling initially. It felt terribly odd to begin, and slowly it did burn as Aesop added another finger. Andrew shifted slightly as he grew used to the feeling of the penetration. While the initial entry did not spark immediate pleasure, the notion that Aesop was touching a place no one ever had and no one else would, satisfied something in Andrew’s belly, feeding lust he previously banished in every form.
Aesop watched in rapt interest as his fingers delved deeper into the other. He had wondered before what it was like for Andrew, to watch as their bodies melded so seamlessly. Wanting to further experience this newfound control, Aesop gathered spit in his mouth and retained his grip on the cheek he’d gently pried apart to open his lover up. The embalmer allowed the saliva to fall from his tongue, over the intrusion of his fingers which he drew back enough for the spit to catch along his penetrating touch and Andrew’s rim. When the slide became easy, Andrew found an unbidden sound slip past his lips.
Shame became a fire along his back burning away as Andrew found himself rocking back onto his partner’s hand, captivated by the intensity of new sensations rattling him to his core. Aesop let go of his harsh grip to slap the mound of flesh once more, thrusting the two fingers Andrew had become more than comfortable with. He began with a slow pace that picked up in vigor as Andrew let whorish moans tumble past his lips. He continued to rock his hips back onto the embalmer's fingers, simultaneously stimulating his cock. The grave keeper gripped the sheets ferociously, willing himself to keep quiet though he could not help the long drawn out whines of desperation that came from him. He buried his face further in the bedding, his body a slave to pleasure and nothing more. His morals had slipped his mind in this degrading fit of sin, he rocked his hips thrusting into the embalmer's lap.
Aesop was beyond pleased with the outcome of his curiosity. Andrew was beautiful like this, writhing under his guidance. So lost was he in his throes of pleasure that he shamelessly sought out more of this torturous edging. He whimpered, feeling a particularly satisfactory drag of skin against his hard cock paired with a particularly well aimed thrust on Aesop’s behalf. He rutted his hips, seeking out that pulsating feeling that began shortly before he found release.
Aesop caught on and decided to continue to push the limits, by adding another finger to the intrusion. Andrew stilled his hips as he got used to the new stretch. His back arched as he curiously shifted against the penetration. Aesop gave an experimental curve of his fingers, and the grave keeper let go of a hollowed moan, wiggling his backside into Aesop’s hand. The hand which had been unoccupied came down against Andrew's ass in a sharp snap, eliciting a choked sob of delight from the larger man.
“I never told you to stop grinding against me.” Aesop stated matter of factly, thrusting the intrusion of what was now three digits rather than two. Andrew pressed his lips together, humming in acknowledgement as he slowly began to rock his hips once more. His body shook as his dick dragged against the smooth flesh of Aesop’s thighs, his spine arched when Aesop’s thrusts picked up in both speed and force. The sensations bled together slowly overtaking his capacity for pleasure. Andrew's eyes wet as his insides knotted in need for release. His rutting hips became more desperate as overstimulation began to overtake him. Thinking only of how badly he wanted release, Andrew reached for his leaking arousal, wanting badly to bring himself to completion. He only managed a few rough strokes before Aesop snatched his hand, pinning it behind Andrew's back.
“Not yet, patience.” Aesop murmured these quiet words reassuringly, his thrusts slowing as he let go of Andrew's wrist and rubbed comforting circles into his back. Andrew had been so close to spilling, he had all but cried out when his hand was prevented from finishing the job. Instead Andrew returned to desperately grinding into his partner’s lap and thrusting hand.
Aesop licked his lips, more than satisfied with the debauched sight of Andrew in his lap. He wanted to somehow further ruin the saint's perfect image. He wanted to burn this night into his mind for days to come. For this moment to be a common place distraction amongst his daily wanderings. He needed to know just how much Andrew was willing to take.
Aesop gripped one of Andrew's ass cheeks, tugging the flesh to the side before spitting again onto the wet mess of his hand. He then added a fourth finger. Andrew stiffened for a trifle of a second before becoming accustomed to the new feeling. His hips stilled as the feeling of being so full took the center of his attention.
“You've taken almost my whole hand.” Aesop said, some amazement present in his voice as he took in the sight of Andrew's body greedily accepting all he offered. Unable to help his curiosity, Aesop decided he would test if Andrew could take all of his hand. He began to thrust the four digits, slow to start, though he picked up the pace as Andrew became more elicit with every open mouthed moan. As the grave keeper's hips began to thrust seeking more fiction to his cock, Aesop added a fifth and final finger. Andrew gasped at the stretch, arching his back, rocking onto the intrusion.
“Oh Aesop-” He lamely fumbled for words finding each one failing on his lips as he tried to urge vowels to take shape on his tongue. Aesop shushed him gently, smoothing a reassuring hand over his backside before slapping the tender flesh.
“Keep rutting into my lap, like the good boy you've been this whole time.” Andrew's resolve shattered, his hips picking up in pace as delicious friction sent sparks through his throbbing cockhead, Aesop began to thrust more harshly, his fingers bending within the man to hit every sensitive place within. The grave keeper shuddered, crying out in divine pleasure as the dual stimulation swept him to completion. He came in Aesop’s lap, smearing white ropes of cum between them as Andrew rutted through his orgasm, rocking back onto Aesop’s fist, taking him to the wrist. After the first orgasm wracked through him, another shock wave rocked through Andrew's system as Aesop pushed his worn limbs through overstimulation, thrusting even after Andrew's cock had gone soft. The intensity of it all had the grave keeper coming dry and shedding tears as he went entirely limp in the mortician’s lap.
Aesop smoothed a hand over Andrew's lower back, smiling in approval at the sight beneath him. He was careful when withdrawing the mess of his hand, watching intently as Andrew's body became reaccustomed to the loss. His hole gaped, red from the abuse of being stretched open wide. He wondered if Andrew found the same satisfaction after having been within the mortician.
“I am going to clean up, rejoin me in my room when you're ready?” Andrew gave a tired nod of his head and rolled off of the embalmer's lap. His body was limp, his lungs still heaved for air. It would take him numerous minutes to regain his composure and feel capable of human speech. For the time present, he lifted a thumbs up in confirmation that he understood and was well. Aesop chuckled lightly at this and excused himself after putting on enough clothing to get to the washroom without stirring suspicion.
Andrew could hardly believe he had been used so thoroughly, nor could he come to terms with how thoroughly he'd enjoyed it.
It certainly had been an endeavor to experience.