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His car was a piece of shit.
His car was a brand new, straight off the showroom floor, two-hundred-thousand dollar Aston Martin, and it was a piece of fucking shit.
It had been financed by his father, of course, a graduation present for not dropping out of Cambridge and actually achieving his Economics BA, unlike his older brother. Aerion might have gotten the degree, but Daeron wasn’t the one stuck with the piece of shit car.
Aerion knew he should have asked for a fully financed summer in the French Riviera.
He was supposed to be tanning topless in a thong on the Targaryen family yacht, Balerion, in Saint-Tropez and spending far too much money at Hervé Léger and Loro Piana in Cannes, not covered in mud up to his shins staring at the engine of his car cluelessly on the backroads near the family’s country home. In the rain.
His two-hundred-thousand dollar car was making noises like a dying cat, and his two thousand dollar Celine boots were ruined beyond repair. Aerion did not cry often, but the boots were really just a lip-quivering cherry on top of his day. He had already called the dealership, and they had promised to call him back soon to book him in at their earliest possible date, which even then, was still likely several weeks away, and his car was dying now.
“Piece of fucking shit Aston Martin,” Aerion mumbled angrily to himself, letting out a wordless yell when he slipped slightly in the mud as he stomped back to the drivers seat. “Fucking James Bond jerk off fantasy bullshit, useless shitty fucking mechanics and even shittier Formula One team.”
The logo emblem on the steering wheel gleamed like it was laughing at him.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched mechanics near me, hitting the ‘allow location’ popup so hard, he thought the screen might crack straight down the middle. He didn’t even look, just clicked the directions for the first result and shifted the car into drive, cringing down into his seat at the metallic screeching. Thankfully, it wasn’t far, about fifteen minutes of having the music so loud he could almost drown out the noise and he had arrived, parking almost haphazardly under a sign that read Pennytree Automotive Repairs.
The rain had turned torrential during his brief drive, and his dash across the parking lot to the reception ended with him soaked to the bone, leaving a slowly growing puddle at his feet. The reception office was… quaint, to put it politely, a far cry from the sleek and streamlined greys of the Aston Martin dealership in Central London. He could hear Oasis playing faintly from the garage itself and was quietly thankful it wasn’t Blur, or he really might have killed himself right in the office.
“Hello?” Aerion called out, craning his neck over the counter to look into the workshop. “Can I get some service?!”
He fell back onto flat feet with a quiet splash that sent shivers down his spine, and he marched over to the small couch in the corner of the room, pulling the thin blanket off to serve as a temporary towel.
He was scrubbing his hair dry when someone cleared their throat, causing him to jump out of his skin and bang his shin into the small coffee table.
“Motherfucker.” Aerion ground out through clenched teeth.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” a man said, the mechanic presumably, in a thick Irish brogue. “I thought you heard me.”
“Evidentially, I didn’t hear fucking sh-“ Aerion said, pulling the blanket off his head to glare nastily at the man before stopping short, finding himself staring at an extremely well muscled set of shoulders and chest. “Oh.”
Frankly, the man in front of him looked like he fell straight out of an extremely graphic bodice ripper style novel, or like he moonlighted as a mechanic themed stripper in his spare time. He was enormous, in both height and width, and Aerion would have wagered some serious money that his fingers would meet if he wrapped them around Aerion’s waist.
In complete honesty, he had been staring for far too long, brazenly tracing the lines of the man’s form with his eyes, and he would have been a little embarrassed if it weren’t for the way the other man had lit up with a deep red blush at the sight of him.
Aerion cleared his throat and stuck out his hand, angling his hips to emphasise their roundness and tilted his head.
“Hi, Aerion Targaryen.” He said with a pretty smile.
The tall man stared at his extended hand for a beat too long, causing the glowing smile on Aerion’s face to dim a little, before he seemed to come back online slightly and grasped his hand tightly.
“You’re soaking wet.”
Aerion’s smile dimmed further. “Astute observation.”
“Oh shit, I mean, sorry- fuck, let me get you a towel,” the mechanic said, letting go of Aerion’s hand as he sprang into action, disappearing back into the workshop before reappearing with clean but stained towel. He held it out awkwardly to him before flushing red once again. “Sorry, I’m Dunk, by the way, Dunk Pennytree, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Quite.” Aerion replied flatly.
Dunk cringed again. “How- What brings you in?”
“My car, obviously.”
“Sure, obviously,” he agreed, scratching the back of his head, and Aerion felt his panties start to dampen at the way his coveralls pulled around his bicep. “I meant- what’s the problem?”
“It sounds like a cat dying,” he said baldly. “My normal mechanic won’t call me back, so here I am. Fix it.”
“A dying cat? I’ve never heard car troubles described like that before.” Dunk said with a small laugh.
“It screeches. It’s awful,” Aerion said, pulling his soaked cashmere sweater over his head before holding it up and frowning at it. “Fix it.”
Dunk ignored him, instead choosing to squint through the rain at Aerion’s car on the other side of the lot.
“Uh huh, and how long has this been happening?”
“A week? A week and a half?”
“And what sort of car is it?”
“An Aston Martin V8 Vantage,” he said, finally deeming his sweater a lost cause, letting it fall to the floor in a wet heap. “Roadster, not the coupe.”
The mechanic made a squawking noise, twisting his head around to look back at Aerion before making another strangled noise and looking back out towards the car. He frowned down at himself, only met by the sight of his soaked through white shirt, hardened nipples straining against the fabric. He had to bite his lip to refrain against asking if the giant had ever seen a pair of tits before.
“Can you handle that? Or do I need to take my business elsewhere?” he asked.
“No I can have a look, it’s just very, uh, expensive?” Dunk said.
“The car or the repairs?” Aerion asked flatly.
“Both?”
“Great, now can I bring it into the garage or do you want to keep standing here like an idiot?” He asked, pushing past the annoyingly attractive man into the workshop.
It all happened very quickly, a combination of his too wet and muddy boots and a slick spot of the floor of the workshop, and suddenly Aerion’s whole world was tilting sideways. This is it, he thought, this is my punishment for all the wrong I’ve ever done in my life. Death by blunt force trauma to the head at a shitty little backroads mechanic, hopefully it would be swift.
Just as quickly as he had slipped, he felt himself being righted, two very large and warm hands grabbing his waist and hauling him to his feet. He stumbled a little and found himself pressed flush against Dunk, who had seemingly dove across the small space between them to catch him.
His very own knight in shining armour.
Pressed this close to the other man, Aerion could tell he was as solid as he looked, thickly corded muscle that came from manual labour covered in a healthy layer of fat with broad hands, shoulders, and forearms almost the width of Aerion’s thighs.
“Careful, sorry, it gets slippery out here when it’s wet.” Dunk said apologetically, squeezing his waist almost unconsciously.
Me too, Aerion thought.
“You move pretty quick for a big guy, huh?” Aerion pondered aloud, moving his hands to squeeze the other man’s wrists for emphasis. “You must be quite strong too.”
“A little.” Dunk said sheepishly.
“So modest too… you could just throw me around,” he said, smiling with too many teeth at the unmistakable feeling of Dunk’s cock twitching against him. He had made up his mind, he was going to have this giant of a man. “So, how long do you think it will be before I can pick it back up?”
——
It was only a few days before he received a text message from Dunk, informing him that his car was free from the noise of dying cats and ready to be picked up, punctuated by a sweet :). Aerion had not bothered to inform his father, hinging all of his hopes on the possibility that Maekar would skip reading his bank statement this month and the charge could go under the radar.
The repair costs were entirely the least of his worries, hardly a thought in his mind when he had other things to worry about, like if Dunk would have preferred how he looked in his black YSL Opyum sandals over the nude Louboutin So Kate’s he currently wore, the red sole tapping with uncharacteristic nerves against the centre console from the backseat.
It wasn’t like Dunk would know the difference anyways, and if he had his head screwed on, he would be thankful for anything Aerion had to offer him.
The carpark was near empty in the late afternoon, with only what he assumed to be the mechanic's car sitting near the reception office. His driver nodded to him as he got out of the car, waiting a beat after Aerion closed his door before pulling off, leaving him to walk up to the building without an audience. He paused momentarily, taking a second to lick his lips and run his hands through his hair, hopefully landing somewhere between freshly fucked and artfully disheveled.
He walked through the large open roller door, knocking against the metal as he walked through. He found Dunk underneath a vehicle hoist, frowning deeply at the bottom of the car above him.
“You will have to touch it to fix it,” Aerion called out unhelpfully, splaying himself along the side of the roller door. “The holistic approach feels useless here.”
Aerion clearly caught him off guard as he caused Dunk to turn around far too quickly, the taller man almost braining himself on the wheel behind him.
“Aerion! Is it that time- Wow.” He said, cutting himself off with a harsh swallow.
Looks like the nude Louboutins and his faithful Burberry Kengsinton trenchcoat were the correct choice.
“Oh, you look nice,” Dunk said after a long moment of staring, his eyes lingering on the harsh arch of Aerion’s feet in his Louboutin’s. “Do you- Are you going somewhere after this?”
“No, I’m not in any rush at all,” Aerion replied as he slinked across the workshop floor, watching as Dunk’s throat seemed to bob with every click of his heels against the concrete floor. “I’m all yours this evening.”
“Great.. that’s great,” he said with a harsh swallow. “I can run you through some maintenance stuff, easy things you can do at home.”
Aerion just nodded absently as Dunk continued talking, no doubt some convoluted explanation about the type of engine that was in the Vantage and all sorts of things Aerion really did not give a fuck about. Dunk wasn’t wearing his coveralls fully like he had been the other day, today he was wearing ones with longer sleeves, although he had it half unzipped and tied around his waist with only an oil stained white t-shirt on his upper half.
It made it extremely obvious that Aerion had completely underestimated the width of the mechanics shoulders. He could already feel the phantom twinge of his thighs and groin that would come from his legs being spread so wide across them.
He tuned back into the conversation when Dunk turned his back to him, ducking under the open hood of the car to prod at something.
“The main cause of your issue was your timing belt, it was slipping so I just replaced the whole thing, you should really get in contact with your dealership and they’ll be able to send you somewhere that specialises in Aston Martin’s,” he said, doing something to the engine that made his t-shirt stretch tight across his shoulders. “It’s normally a pretty quick fix but I had to fix your water pump too.”
“Sure, of course you did.” Aerion nodded in agreement.
Dunk turned over his shoulder, blinking at Aerion before smiling. “You have no clue what any of this means.”
“Not even in the slightest.”
“It’ll be in the repair notes, I’ll give them to you when you pay.” He said with a small laugh.
“Speaking of, we should go to your office,” Aerion said, sliding his hand across Dunk’s back lightly. “I have something for you, to say thank you.”
Dunk lit up pink again. “You didn’t have to get me anything, this is my job.”
“Trust me, I wanted to,” he said, purposely not stepping back when Dunk straightened up so they were pressed together. “It’s for both of us, really.”
Dunk directed him across the shop floor to a small office on the opposite side of the reception area. Almost unconsciously, he opened the door and stepped to the side, gesturing for Aerion to walk through first. He reached up, brushing his fingers along the taller man’s jaw as he passed as a small gesture of thanks.
“Chivalry is alive and well.” He murmured over his shoulder, pleased at the way Dunk was hovering his fingers over where he had touched.
The office was small, but well loved, with the walls filled with photo frames of Dunk with various patrons or friends, and a sprawling bookshelf filled with what Aerion assumed were mechanical journals.
There was also a small, well worn couch with a matching blanket to the one that was in the reception area. Helpful, Aerion thought, they would need it for clean up.
The taller man beelined across the room and began digging through a cabinet, mumbling something unintelligible that Aerion did not bother to try and make out. He shut the door behind himself and swanned around the room, poking at things before perching himself on the desk and picking up a photo frame. It showed a tall young boy who he assumed to be Dunk in a rugby uniform and an older man, both smiling broadly.
“Your height doesn’t seem to be genetic.” Aerion said, mostly talking to himself.
Dunk made a wordless noise of curiosity before glancing over his shoulder and lighting up with a smile when he saw the photo Aerion was holding.
“Arlan, the man in the photo, he’s my foster father,” Dunk explained, standing close enough to look over Aerion’s shoulder that he could feel the man’s body heat. “He said I’m as thick as a castle wall and just about as tall as one.”
“Funny.”
“Yeah, he was. Taught me everything I know, except how to file paperwork apparently,” he said, turning back to rifle through the filing cabinet. “I’m sorry, just give me a second.”
“Like I said, I’m all yours tonight.” Aerion said, placing his phone down on the desk and hopping off, coming to stand in the middle of the room. He undid the belt of his trenchcoat and slowly started to undo the buttons, the sight of Dunk dwarfing the otherwise massive cabinet making wetness pool in his panties. He shrugged his shoulders out of it before letting it fall to the crook of his elbows, finally dropping it to a messy pile on the floor.
He didn’t bother to say anything else, perfectly content to let Dunk continue to dig for paperwork Aerion would not even bother to glance at before handing over his credit card. He cocked his hip out and linked his hands behind his back, emphasising the natural curves of his body in a way he knew was enticing, and simply waited.
“Ah ha! I found it, it’s meant to be alphabetised but that never lasts,” Dunk said, waving a handful of papers in the air in victory before turning around, his entire focus locked on them. “I don’t even know why I put it away, knowing you’d be-“
He cut himself off when he finally looked up, words trailing off and the papers falling to the floor as he took in Aerion in front of him. Aerion could see his blush slowly creeping up his neck until it turned his cheeks ruddy and his ears red, and was quietly pleased by this reaction. The lingerie he had chosen was lacy and black, little bows across the bra and sheer panels that hinted at what was underneath. He did not have much at all to fill out cups, but it was mainly decorative, giving Dunk something to take off. The panties were the real star, tantalisingly low waisted with a sheer panel over his mound and a little bow at the top, with a peekaboo cut out at the back.
“-coming in today,” Dunk finished, his voice weak as he stared at Aerion, before letting out an undignified squeak and turning back around. “A-aerion, you- your coat.”
“What about my coat?” he asked, lightly amused as he stalked forward.
“You aren’t wearing it.”
“I told you I had something for you, why? Don’t you like it?” Don’t you like me? went unsaid.
“I thought you were gonna give me, like, a bottle of scotch or something?” Dunk squeaked, his voice still high pitched.
“What? Do you have a girlfriend or something? I don’t give a shit about something like that,” he said, quickly growing impatient. This was not the reaction he was expecting, this was not the sort of reaction he got. “You know what? I’m going to go, I’ll have my accountant wire you the money and I’ll send a driver with your fucking scotch.”
Dunk jolted, knocking into the still open filing cabinet hard enough to tip over the various booklets stacked on top of it.
“Wait, no, don’t leave just- Jesus Christ,” he said, waving his hand in front of him, taking in the sight of Aerion bent in half to pick up his coat. “For me? Are you serious?”
Aerion straightened up slowly, looking exaggeratedly around the room. “Is there anyone else?”
Dunk shook his head and shuffled awkwardly, pulling Aerion’s attention to the bulge in his pants. The frankly enormous bulge.
The game was back on.
“Now, either I can leave and you’ll get your expensive fucking alcohol in a couple of days,” he singsonged, coming to stand a hairsbreadth away from the taller man. “Or, we can find out how my panties will look once they’re stained with cum you’ll fuck into me. What do you think sounds better?”
Dunk swallowed harshly. “The second option.”
“Good choice, such a smart boy after all,” Aerion purred, pressing himself fully against Dunk, slipping his hand down to rub the fat bulge in his coveralls. “Now, why don’t you undo my bra for me?”
“In a second…” He trailed off, bending down so their lips could meet soundly, grabbing Aerion’s ass with one massive hand.
Aerion was immediately thankful for the added height the heels gave to him, allowing him to take the onslaught of kisses smoothly. He squeezed Dunk in his hand, feeling the other man groan into his mouth and took the opportunity to lick into it, letting their tongues slide together wetly. Dunk’s hands were rough, calloused and scarred from work, and the roughened tips of his fingers dragged softly along his skin, a verifiable path of intent from his ass to the back of his neck.
The taller man began pressing wet kisses down his neck, pressing his face as close as he could to the perfumed slope and taking deep inhaling gasps as he went. The sensation would have made Aerion laugh if he wasn’t entirely focused on getting his cock free from the coveralls.
“You smell so fucking good,” Dunk murmured, pressing the strap of his bra off his shoulder so he could press his face to the curve of it. “And you want to do this? With me?”
“Don’t be daft.” Aerion replied, losing track of his task and grabbing at Dunk’s short hair suddenly as his collarbones were gnawed at.
“I mean,I already fixed your car-“
“Dunk, I can only listen to your bitching for so long, and you’re starting to bore me,” he said, cutting the other man off. “Do you want this pussy or not?”
“I do, I’m sorry, I do.” He replied in earnest.
“Then act like it.”
With those words, something in Dunk’s resolve shifted, and his grip on Aerion tightened to an almost frightening degree. He felt himself being lifted like he weighed nothing and carried across the room until he was being laid down on the couch, a soft kiss pressed against his lips as Dunk pulled away to kneel between his spread legs.
“You’d let me have this? You’d let me into your pretty little cunt?” He asked, his earlier uncertainty nowhere to be found.
“Uh huh,” he said, sliding a hand down to rub over his still panty covered cunt. “Want you inside it, can you do that?”
“I’ll do whatever you want Aerion, you’re so fucking sexy, want to fuck your tight little ass too,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it over his shoulder. “I’ll get my mouth on it, I want to get it as wet as your fat pussy.”
“Want you to have my cunt first, you can have it after, my mouth too.” He promised, feeling vaguely hypnotised by the stretch of Dunk’s muscles and the blue of his eyes.
He watched raptly as Dunk leaned in, pressing a kiss to the mesh covering his slit before he suckled lightly, mouthing at the slick soaked material and tonguing at his clit, peaking out between his puffy lips. Dunk began to kiss and lick his cunt like he had kissed Aerion’s mouth earlier, pushing the mesh inside his pussy shallowly with the tip of his tongue. He threw his head back and moaned softly, hooking his legs over the taller man’s shoulders and letting the tips of his heels dig into his back, forcing a harsh moan free from deep in Dunk’s chest.
“C’mon, don’t tease me.” Aerion said with a soft moan.
“Not teasing, savouring, you taste so fucking good.”
“Savour me later, I want your cock now.” He demanded.
“Are you always such a fucking brat?” Dunk asked rhetorically, pulling his cock free from his half undone coveralls.
“Only when I’m not getting what I want, and I always get what I want.”
Dunk huffed a quiet laugh before flipping him suddenly, making Aerion kneel and face the wall before he even realised he had been moved. Fuck, Dunk was so fucking strong. He wiggled his hips teasingly as the other man pulled his panties to the side, exposing his chubby slit and gaping hole. He heard Dunk moan quietly at the sight and felt the man’s warm breath against his cunt before he started to make out with it, licking and suckling at it.
Aerion struggled for a moment, supporting himself against the back of the couch with his shoulders as he reached back to unhook his bra and fling it back into the office, letting his small tits spill free.
“Enough, enough, fuck me already,” he whined again, looking over his shoulder with a pout. “I already fingered myself before I got here.”
“Desperate.” Dunk murmured against his cunt.
“Horny.” He corrected, making the other man laugh once more as he pulled away from his pussy, raising up to kneel with one knee against the couch cushions and one flat on the ground, reaching down to notch his cock against his hole.
Aerion kneeled on the couch, one hand gripping the pillows and the other pressed flat against the wall as Dunk finally started to push his cock in. It was enormous, the largest he had ever taken, and he immediately felt stretched to his limits, his earlier promise of letting Dunk fuck his ass suddenly feeling a little more daunting. He clenched down, making Dunk spit a curse, and he suddenly found himself with his face pressed against the pillows, one of Dunk’s large hands pressed against the back of his skull.
“Fuck, don’t do that,” Dunk whined, shoving more of his cock in. “You’re too fucking tight as it is.”
“Then hurry up,” he moaned, voice muffled against the pillows. He could feel his eyes starting to cross the deeper Dunk sank, already feeling a phantom twinge of bruising against his cervix. “Are you almost in?”
“Halfway.”
“Half!?” Aerion reared back in shock before falling back into the pillows with a whimper as his rough movements split him open further.
“I’m… big.” Dunk said, sheepish despite the heavy tone of his voice.
“Yeah, big, there’s a fucking horse running around cockless because you have it in your pants inst- Oh my god.”
He was cut off by the force of Dunk’s thrust, the rest of his thick cock being shoved into him in one go. It was teetering on the edge of too big, stretching his pussy just to the point of pain, and Aerion thought that if he could gather the strength to look down, his stomach would probably be bulging with it.
“God, the fucking mouth on you, can’t even shut up with a cock in you.” Dunk groaned, digging his thumbs into the dimples at the base of his spine.
“I-I, mhm, I’ve never had any complaints about my mouth.”
“I bet, fuck, that little fucking pout of yours, you’re made to take a cock.” Dunk groaned, slowly pulling out until only the tip sat in the entrance to his hole. He could feel precum dripping into him already and clenched down just as Dunk thrust forward, matching moans spilling out of their mouths.
“You like my mouth?” He panted, looking over his shoulder as Dunk began to thrust.
“Yeah, I like everything about you, prettiest fuckin’ thing I ever seen,” Dunk said in earnest, slapping a hand against his ass and pulling roughly at the pale flesh. “Standing in a puddle in my reception looking like a fucking supermodel, I could see your fucking tits through your shirt, did you know that?”
Aerion couldn’t get his brain to work, the pleasure pain of the stretch of his cunt and the sting of his asscheek making him feel dizzy. All he could do was whimper into the pillow as his arms shook where he supported himself against the wall.
What the fuck was happening? Dunk had been so polite and nervous all of five fucking minutes ago and now he was fucking Aerion’s cunt like he was trying to bruise it.
“When you left, fuck I didn’t even close the door, I pulled my cock out right in the middle of the fucking shop. I couldn’t stop thinking about your puffy nipples, and wondered if they’d be the same colour as your sloppy cunt.”
“Sloppy-!”
“No, not sloppy, best cunt I’ve ever had,” Dunk agreed, punctuating his thrust with another slap to Aerion’s ass, manhandling him easily so he was on his side now with one heeled foot stretched up to hook over his shoulder. “You’re a slut with a tight, fat pussy, just made to be fucked.”
“‘m not a slut.” Aerion whined, pouting blearily up at the taller man, squeezing his bouncing tit with a moan.
Dunk slapped his ass harder this time, forcing a strangled scream from his throat. He barely had time to recover before he was spanked again, and again, and then once more, each slap harder than the last. His poor ass was bright red, the thin, slick soaked panties that they had tugged to the side earlier doing almost nothing to ease the burn.
“Sure, you’re not a slut,” he agreed condescendingly, slowing his thrusts to slow, grinding rolls of his hips, one one his thumbs rubbing circles over his ankle. “You served this tight little pussy up to me wrapped in a goddamn bow to say thank you to me for doing you a service, pretty sure that makes you a whore.”
“Dunk! Mhm, you’re too big.” He cried out, clenching tight at the mechanic's words.
He could feel every inch of Dunk’s cock, the fat vein rubbing and catching on the stretched skin of his pussy, the usually plump lips of his cunt blood swollen with arousal and from the friction of the cock working in and out of him. His poor clit was so swollen too, untouched and neglected hidden under the soaked panties and puffy slit, throbbing in time with every harsh thrust.
“You can take it, that’s it, squeezing my dick for me, such a good whore for me,” Dunk murmured, licking along the edge of Aerion’s shoe, half his tongue on the patent leather and half on the warm skin. “I could cum from just these alone, wanna rub my cock between them and cum all over your tiny fucking feet.”
His thrusts started to speed up, his rambling growing strength in time with his thrusts. Aerion could hardly breathe, his mouth hanging open as a steady stream of whining moans spilled free.
“Tiny fuckin’ feet, these tiny little tits, and your tight pink holes, and you got the fattest ass I’ve ever seen, you’re a fuckin’ miracle, Aerion,” he growled, pushing the leg not hooked up on his shoulder further to the side, forcing the muscles of his thighs to stretch. “You take a cock like you were made for it, you want it bad, don’t you?”
“Want your cum, Dunk, fucking my pussy so well,” he whined back, finally slipping his fingers under the band of his panties to circle his clit. He felt like he was saying lines from a bad porno but it was the truth, Dunk was the best fuck he had ever had. “I’m yours.”
“You’re my what?” Dunk asked.
“‘m yours!”
“I know that, Aerion, but what are you?”
“I-I can’t!” He protested, tipping his head to the side to try and bury his face in the pillows, only to cry out as Dunk smacked his ass once more, the crack of his palm against the fat cheek echoing around the room.
“Yes you can, you’ve been so good for me so far,” the other man said, fucking in to the hilt and leaning in so their faces were inches apart, making Aerion send a silent prayer to the inventor of pilates at the way his leg stretched to its very limit. “I want you to say it.”
“I’m your slut.” He whispered.
“I can’t hear you.” Dunk whispered back, punctuating his words with a hard sudden thrust.
“Oh, god, fuck! I’m your slut!” he cried, writhing uncontrollably from the sudden harsh stimulation, pulling at his own hair in an attempt to keep his grip on reality. “I’m your cockslut!”
“Good job, I knew you could do it,” Dunk praised, fucking Aerion harder as a reward. “Fucking hell, this pussy, you’re like a goddamn vice. I should keep you tied up and bent over in here so I can fuck it whenever I want.”
He just nodded his head rapidly in agreement, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth to suppress the screams threatening to spill forth. His cunt was fluttering, he was so close yet he did not want to cum yet, wanted this to last forever.
“Dunk, Dunk, you need to, uh, I need you to slow down,” Aerion whined, rolling his hips into the thrusts despite himself. “I’m going to cum.”
“You can cum whenever you want, baby, I’ll just keep fucking this cunt until I do.” The other man said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Not-not your fucking baby.” He protested insincerely.
“That’s right, you’re my slut,” Dunk agreed, pressing a sucking kiss to his ankle. “I’d be a lot nicer to you if you were my baby.”
Whatever he was going to respond was quickly replaced with a shocked gasping moan as Dunk’s massive hand lashed out quickly, smacking him across the face with enough force to send his head careening to the side before his jaw was gripped tightly, a calloused thumb forcing its way in his mouth.
He could barely breathe, the pain blossomed across his face so quickly he almost did not realise it happened. Aerion could only bring himself to suckle on Dunk’s thumb as redness started to bloom on his cheek, one eye watering as his pussy throbbed in time with his face.
Dunk had just slapped him. His fucking mechanic. Aerion wanted him to do it again, harder.
He could tell the other man held back, limiting his strength and testing the waters to see how far he could push things, and Aerion desperately wanted to see what he could do. Perhaps Dunk would feel right at home with his case of treasures, the expensive Italian leather of the riding crop would feel like silk when wielded by the taller man.
“That’s it, such a good fucking pussy for me, you take what I give you so well,” Dunk praised, pulling his thumb free, pressing it briefly against Aerion’s swollen lips before pulling back. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum.”
It was like new life was breathed back into him suddenly and he reached up, playing with his small bouncing tits, watching as Dunk traced his movements.
“Inside me, you can cum inside me, please,” he begged, releasing his tits to slide his hand down to circle his clit. “I’m so close.”
“I wanna feel it, wanna feel this tight little hole cum for me, can you do that?” Dunk asked, smiling when Aerion sniffled and nodded.
He smacked Aerion’s ass once more in praise and kneaded the bruised skin and the sting combined with his own fingers on his swollen clit were enough to send him crashing into his orgasm. He felt his eyes roll back into his head as he began to squirt, cum spraying out of his abused pussy onto Dunk and the couch below, soaking his already ruined panties and the other man’s uniform. It was the hardest he had cum in a long time, and he felt it roll over into a second, less violent orgasm as Dunk started to cum deep inside of him, spurred on by Aerion’s own.
“Can’t believe you fucking squirted for me, my good little whore,” he ground out as his hips jerked, warm cum settling deep inside his pussy and spilling out around the sides of Dunk’s pulsing dick.
He let Aerion’s leg slide down after pressing one last kiss against his heeled foot. His face and ass ached fiercely, his pussy was throbbing, and he was pretty sure he would be limping for a few days, and he simply could not be more pleased. He let out a small whimper as the taller man slowly pulled out, his cock slipping free with a wet noise as he collapsed next to him on the couch. Aerion felt his cum start to ooze out of his gaping pussy and pulled his panties back to sit properly, keeping most of the cum inside of him or at least in close contact with his cunt.
“Are you ok? Was I too rough?” Dunk asked suddenly, rolling his head to the side like it weighed one hundred kilograms to look at Aerion.
“Shut up, just shut the fuck up, you broke my brain.” Aerion whispered, his voice rough from his earlier moans.
“‘m sorry.”
“Jesus Christ, what happened to the man who slapped the fuck out of me?” He said, slapping his own hand against Dunk’s broad chest. “Are you fucking anyone else like that?”
“I’ve never fucked someone like that before.” He said.
“Good, don’t do that to anyone else.”
“Because it was bad?” He asked weakly.
“No, because you can only do that with me, you can only have sex with me from now on.” Aerion commanded, heaving himself up and onto Dunk’s lap with no small effort before diving in to kiss the other man soundly.
After making out for a long moment, Aerion pulled back and pressed his hand to the blossoming redness of his cheek.
“I think I’ll buy you a ring, a nice thick gold one for your index finger, Cartier perhaps?” he asked rhetorically, tilting his head at Dunk. “Something that will leave a nice mark.”
“Oh my god.” Dunk said, looking entirely out of his depth.
“None of that,” he said, rolling his hips against the other man, feeling more cum drip out of him. “You made a mess of me, and I believe we discussed something about you eating ass?”
“Oh my god.”
As usual, things went exactly how Aerion wanted them to.