here's a quick little fill, cause this one caught my attention.
There are hands on Jon's thighs, his waist, his chest. They climb up his body like the legs on a centipede, all leading back to the same man. If Jared hopworth is still human enough to be called a man, that is.
Jon is laying on his back. His shirt is off, and under him, he can feel the awful, tacky carpet of Helen's hallways scratching his shoulder blades. Jared is above him, his main set of legs kneeling around Jon's waist. There's a leering grin on his face, attention focused entirely on Jon's chest. Rather, the soft swell of it beneath his fingers.
"Gotta say," Jared says, and the low rumble of his voice is even harder to parse pressed so close to him. Beside his ear, Jon watches the outline of what may have once been a lung shudder in Jared's calf.
"These tits are cute. Small, though. Sure you want me to take 'em? I could give you a little more, no charge." He squeezes, and Jon winces. Jared's hands are large and many-fingered. They feel like thick, fleshy spiders as they creep and clutch their way across his torso.
"I'm sure," Jon bites out through clenched teeth, body gone rigid in something between horror and excitement. "Just- just get on with it. Please."
Jared chuckles. The reverberation of it thrums through him and into Jon like a passing shudder.
"Impatient." he tuts. One of the hands on Jon's chest withdraws, but not before giving his nipple one last, rude twist. The hand recedes into Jared's abdomen- a twisting mass of coiling flesh, strange shapes forming and dissolving behind his skin. It sinks into some fold too subtle for Jon to parse and takes hold of the thing inside, drawing it back out in one slow motion.
The cock that emerges is larger than any Jon's ever seen. The shaft itself is the length of his forearm, and about as thick. Behind its foreskin, tge fat and swollen like a plum. At the very tip, precum is already beginning to bead.
Jared drags his prick along the center line of Jon's chest, leaving a small trail in its wake. It comes to a halt between his breasts. Jon can almost feel the thing through his skin, laying flat on his sternum.
Jared lurches slightly, his cock sliding forward. Jon braces himself… but nothing happens. He glances up warily, and Jared's grin widens.
"Kiss it." he says.
"What?" Jon demands, indignant.
"I said," Jared growls, "kiss it. Prove I should leave you with your mouth."
"That wasn't part of the deal," says, Jon, throat dry.
"Is now." Jared answers simply.
Jon looks back at the cock in front of him, the fat, dripping head just a few inches away, and bites his tongue. Hesitantly, he leans forwards and brushes his lips against it.
It tastes like skin. Not raw meat, or blood, or any other ghoulish thing Jon had been expecting- just skin. Salty with sweat and an unmistakable, animal musk.
Just as he begins to pull away, Jared thrusts his hips. In a second, Jon's mouth is pried open and filled, the tip popping in past his teeth and flattening his tongue. Jon grunts in alarm. His head hits the floor as he tries, futilely, to lean back.
After a few suffocating moments, Jared pulls back. Jon gasps for breath as his mouth is freed, choking down the precome that'd begun to drip down into his throat. Above him, Jared laughs. Jon glares back at him, wiping away a string of spittle with the back of his hand.
"Just giving you some help," Jared says.
"How generous," Jon hisses. "Now, if you're done, done- molesting me, let's get this over with."
"Dunno." Jared goads. "'S fun. Maybe if you ask nicely."
Jon grits his teeth. "Please."
"Touch 'em for me." says Jared, hands leaving Jon's chest.
Jon sighs. He brings his hands up and cups himself, one on either side. Jared was right- Jon's chest is small, barely big enough for what they'd agreed to.
But there's still something almost exciting about squeezing them together in front of Jared's cock. Of watching Jared take himself in hand and push the head between Jon's breasts, slicking a path for himself.
"Good enough," Jared says.
He looms from above, arms framing the carpet over Jon's head as he braces himself. His hips slam forward, shaft sliding into the valley between Jon's breasts and coming out the other side, stopping just short enough for the tip to brush Jon's chin.
The first thrust is the hardest. It's a struggle to hold still, Jon’s body rocked by Jared's momentum, but he manages. His fingers dig hard into the soft, supple flesh, his nails little pinpricks of pain among the strange sparks of breathless exhilaration.
It’s an odd sensation, but not at all like Jon had thought it’d be. Jared’s prick is as hot as a burning iron, and firm in a way that makes him think there must be more than just muscle inside. It feels nice against his skin, wonderfully heavy. A grounding weight. It satisfies something deep inside Jon, some kind of physical craving he hadn’t even known he possessed.
It‘s over too quickly. Jared’s cock glides back through the passage of Jon’s hold and slips out. Jon makes a questioning noise- and then he realises what’s happening, and it turns into a moan.
Jon’s eyes widen in time to watch Jared come. The entirety of his body stiffens, tensing like a taut wire. Every hand clenches, including the two mismatched fists stroking his cock. One squeezes the base while the other tilts the tip, aiming straight for Jon’s chest. It hits its mark- come splattering onto Jon’s tits in three long sputters.
Jared rolls off him a second later, gazing down at his handiwork with unrestrained smugness.
There’s something handsome about him, Jon thinks suddenly. Rather, there was at some point. Under all the… meat.
It would’ve been nice- if Jon cared about that kind of thing, maybe. It certainly didn’t hurt the flush creeping down Jon’s body, the warmth in his stomach.
Closing his eyes and biting his lip, Jon slips one hand beneath the fabric of his trousers and palms himself through his boxers without even bothering to try cleaning up.
Fill: Jared/Jon, titfucking
There are hands on Jon's thighs, his waist, his chest. They climb up his body like the legs on a centipede, all leading back to the same man. If Jared hopworth is still human enough to be called a man, that is.
Jon is laying on his back. His shirt is off, and under him, he can feel the awful, tacky carpet of Helen's hallways scratching his shoulder blades. Jared is above him, his main set of legs kneeling around Jon's waist. There's a leering grin on his face, attention focused entirely on Jon's chest. Rather, the soft swell of it beneath his fingers.
"Gotta say," Jared says, and the low rumble of his voice is even harder to parse pressed so close to him. Beside his ear, Jon watches the outline of what may have once been a lung shudder in Jared's calf.
"These tits are cute. Small, though. Sure you want me to take 'em? I could give you a little more, no charge." He squeezes, and Jon winces. Jared's hands are large and many-fingered. They feel like thick, fleshy spiders as they creep and clutch their way across his torso.
"I'm sure," Jon bites out through clenched teeth, body gone rigid in something between horror and excitement. "Just- just get on with it. Please."
Jared chuckles. The reverberation of it thrums through him and into Jon like a passing shudder.
"Impatient." he tuts. One of the hands on Jon's chest withdraws, but not before giving his nipple one last, rude twist. The hand recedes into Jared's abdomen- a twisting mass of coiling flesh, strange shapes forming and dissolving behind his skin. It sinks into some fold too subtle for Jon to parse and takes hold of the thing inside, drawing it back out in one slow motion.
The cock that emerges is larger than any Jon's ever seen. The shaft itself is the length of his forearm, and about as thick. Behind its foreskin, tge fat and swollen like a plum. At the very tip, precum is already beginning to bead.
Jared drags his prick along the center line of Jon's chest, leaving a small trail in its wake. It comes to a halt between his breasts. Jon can almost feel the thing through his skin, laying flat on his sternum.
Jared lurches slightly, his cock sliding forward. Jon braces himself… but nothing happens. He glances up warily, and Jared's grin widens.
"Kiss it." he says.
"What?" Jon demands, indignant.
"I said," Jared growls, "kiss it. Prove I should leave you with your mouth."
"That wasn't part of the deal," says, Jon, throat dry.
"Is now." Jared answers simply.
Jon looks back at the cock in front of him, the fat, dripping head just a few inches away, and bites his tongue. Hesitantly, he leans forwards and brushes his lips against it.
It tastes like skin. Not raw meat, or blood, or any other ghoulish thing Jon had been expecting- just skin. Salty with sweat and an unmistakable, animal musk.
Just as he begins to pull away, Jared thrusts his hips. In a second, Jon's mouth is pried open and filled, the tip popping in past his teeth and flattening his tongue. Jon grunts in alarm. His head hits the floor as he tries, futilely, to lean back.
After a few suffocating moments, Jared pulls back. Jon gasps for breath as his mouth is freed, choking down the precome that'd begun to drip down into his throat. Above him, Jared laughs. Jon glares back at him, wiping away a string of spittle with the back of his hand.
"Just giving you some help," Jared says.
"How generous," Jon hisses. "Now, if you're done, done- molesting me, let's get this over with."
"Dunno." Jared goads. "'S fun. Maybe if you ask nicely."
Jon grits his teeth. "Please."
"Touch 'em for me." says Jared, hands leaving Jon's chest.
Jon sighs. He brings his hands up and cups himself, one on either side. Jared was right- Jon's chest is small, barely big enough for what they'd agreed to.
But there's still something almost exciting about squeezing them together in front of Jared's cock. Of watching Jared take himself in hand and push the head between Jon's breasts, slicking a path for himself.
"Good enough," Jared says.
He looms from above, arms framing the carpet over Jon's head as he braces himself. His hips slam forward, shaft sliding into the valley between Jon's breasts and coming out the other side, stopping just short enough for the tip to brush Jon's chin.
The first thrust is the hardest. It's a struggle to hold still, Jon’s body rocked by Jared's momentum, but he manages. His fingers dig hard into the soft, supple flesh, his nails little pinpricks of pain among the strange sparks of breathless exhilaration.
It’s an odd sensation, but not at all like Jon had thought it’d be. Jared’s prick is as hot as a burning iron, and firm in a way that makes him think there must be more than just muscle inside. It feels nice against his skin, wonderfully heavy. A grounding weight. It satisfies something deep inside Jon, some kind of physical craving he hadn’t even known he possessed.
It‘s over too quickly. Jared’s cock glides back through the passage of Jon’s hold and slips out. Jon makes a questioning noise- and then he realises what’s happening, and it turns into a moan.
Jon’s eyes widen in time to watch Jared come. The entirety of his body stiffens, tensing like a taut wire. Every hand clenches, including the two mismatched fists stroking his cock. One squeezes the base while the other tilts the tip, aiming straight for Jon’s chest. It hits its mark- come splattering onto Jon’s tits in three long sputters.
Jared rolls off him a second later, gazing down at his handiwork with unrestrained smugness.
There’s something handsome about him, Jon thinks suddenly. Rather, there was at some point. Under all the… meat.
It would’ve been nice- if Jon cared about that kind of thing, maybe. It certainly didn’t hurt the flush creeping down Jon’s body, the warmth in his stomach.
Closing his eyes and biting his lip, Jon slips one hand beneath the fabric of his trousers and palms himself through his boxers without even bothering to try cleaning up.