"Probably not." Karl whirled them both until Orlando was slammed against the wall on the side of the pub, pushed into him, plundering his mouth with a talented tongue. Yes, fuck yes. Coarse wall scraping his back, sandpaper chin scraping his own, rough fingers scraping along his torso, dragging his shirt up. Karl tasted of beer and malt and sin, and Orlando was drunk on the taste. Wanted more. Wanted to get drunk on Karl -- drunk on the tongue running along his teeth, drunk on the lips grinding into him, drunk on the warm skin beneath his fingers as they tore and ripped at clothing until they were both blessedly naked, and Orlando's desperate fingers closed over Karl's erection. "Come for me," Orlando commanded, starting a hard, fast stroke, Karl's firm cock filling his hand -- warm and pulsing -- jumping under his fingers. "Orlando --" Karl groaned, then groaned again when Orlando leaned up, licked along Karl's neck, biting down on salty skin. "Now." Orlando's hand was relentless, allowed no room for anything other than pleasure. Up down, twist, turn, each stroke designed to close around the maximum amount of skin. Orlando pushed and pulled, his lips and teeth scraping along Karl's throat and chin, finally ending at his lips, stealing inside Karl's open mouth, taking, reclaiming his territory. Karl shoved him against the wall, the large hands on his hips bruising as he shuddered, came -- hot and fluid -- on Orlando's greedy fingers, Orlando's name a curse, a plea, tumbling from full lips. Orlando dragged his sticky fingers across Karl's open lips, then dove in with his tongue, the bitter almond taste of come inundating his senses, mixing with the beer and honey. Perfect. "Fuck," Karl breathed. "Thought you'd never ask." And Orlando reversed their positions, shoving Karl face-first into the stone wall. Used Karl's come to coat himself before thrusting forward inside heat and tight and fuckyes, this was perfect. Beyond. Karl's harsh groan filled the damp night air, filled Orlando's ears. Firm hips under one hand, hardening cock pulsing under the other, supple flesh giving with each push. "Harder." Fine by him. Orlando increased the pace -- each thrust of his cock in Karl's tight ass a declaration. "Mine." Orlando grabbed a fistful of Karl's hair, dragging his head back. "Mine." Repeated when he slammed in again, Karl's muscles clenching around him, hot flesh wrapping him in tight waves of heat. His own orgasm slammed through him, twisted him inside-out, had him shuddering, staccato heartbeat pounding through his brain, breath coming in ragged gasps that was mirrored by Karl's own gasps when he came on Orlando's hand. "Fucking hell." Karl slumped against the hard stone wall, pushed his glasses back up his nose, reached behind him to pull Orlando flush against his back. "Think I'm dead." "Think I'd revive myself, then. Not nearly done with you yet." Orlando nipped Karl's ear, still hard inside him, started thrusting again in tiny movements, slick, tight passage flexing around him. "Orlando, I --" "Yes. Mine. You belong to me." Another shallow thrust, watched in unholy delight as Karl's large hands scrabbled for purchase against the wall. "This is what I can give you, what I can do for you. Only me." Slammed forward, this time deeper, brushing Karl's prostate with the head of his cock. "Yours," Karl gasped, pushing against him, lower back glistening with sweat. Orlando ran a finger along Karl's spine, collected the moisture pooling in the small of his back, and continued pounding, thrusting, momentum shoving Karl into the unforgiving stone. Karl's harsh whimpermoans filled the air, Orlando's own harsh breathing filled his ears, and he changed the angle of his hips -- wanted to drive in deeper, wanted to crawl under Karl's skin, in his blood. Wanted to mix them up together so that it would be impossible to tear them apart. He ignored Karl's muffled protest when he pulled out just as another orgasm ripped through him, come spilling across Karl's lower back and the top of his ass. He knelt with trembling knees on the graveled pavement, and lapped at the juices -- Karl's sweat, Orlando's semen -- rolled them around on his tongue, seeking more, wanted more. Salty and thick down his throat -- bitter and hot. Wasn't enough. "Turn around." Karl obediently twisted, sagged heavily into the wall, glasses completely fogged over, hair disheveled, face flushed. His fingers trembled as they framed Orlando's face. "Please," he breathed, guided Orlando's willing lips to his cock. Orlando eagerly swallowed, tongue licking along the underside, humming his satisfaction at finally having Karl deep inside him, pulsating in his mouth, pushing deep down his throat, come coating his tongue. Orlando was still licking his lips in consideration -- rolling the combined tastes of his come and Karl's in his mouth -- when Karl slumped down to the ground, head tilted back, eyes closed. "Definitely dead," he mumbled, resting his head on Orlando's shoulder. Orlando wrapped an arm around Karl's shoulders, nuzzled his hair. "No dying on me. I still have plans." Karl groaned, the sound skimming across Orlando's neck, puckering his skin. "Don't think I could get it up if you and Salma Hayek both gave me a lap dance. At the same time." "Damn, that is bad," Orlando laughed, still breathless, still on edge. Still hungered. "How about a long, hot shower, and we'll see how you feel?" "Shower sounds good." "I'll even wash your back." Karl chuckled, kissed the juncture of Orlando's neck and shoulder. "Just wash." "No promises." Orlando tipped Karl's chin up, covered his lips in a slow, soft kiss, tasted desire and need and the faint remnants of beer. "I have a lot to make up for." Karl smiled, curled his hand around Orlando's shoulder. "You don't have to do it all tonight. We've got time." Lovely thought.
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