Overflow for penancerp

[stardustdaozhang]

As things become necessary.

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Song Zichen, NSFW

[stardustdaozhang]

ooc: From here.

Xingchen raises his face, leaving his breath to still tantalize, and lifts an eyebrow in the direction of Zichen's voice. He doesn't doubt that part, but right now, specifically, Zichen needs him in a certain way, and that's what he means.

"I am right here." He undoes the trouser stays nimbly, kisses the hardness through the fabric, then pulls them down in one motion to kiss it directly, too.

... then he leans back, gracefully rising to his feet. "Stay a moment."

Only for Xingchen to set a few of previously prepared silence talismans in the corners of the room.

"I want to hear you. Only me."

And he plucks their jar of ointment and settles back on his knees in front of him, arranging Zichen's legs a little wider for the next part of ... this.

Which he begins by stroking up and down Zichen's thighs... then leaning to wrap his lips around his shaft and very, very slowly starting to take it in.

All the way in, even if he knows he'll choke. He wants to have all of Zichen's length snugly inside him, at least for a moment.

Absolutely NSFW

[mysophobe]

This is a side of Xingchen he's never seen before but Zichen absolutely needs at the moment. The frame of mind he's in, the mix of suffering with delight, leaves him in need of someone to take control and keep the prurient torment going. Of course, the only person he would go to for such a thing is his beloved husband. His accepting husband who isn't disgusted by Song Lan's wanton need.

Zichen runs a hand over Xingchen's hair, a sharp gasp escaping him as Xingchen's lips touch hot, hard flesh. A whine follows as Xingchen departs to prepare their room. At least they're courteous neighbors. While Xingchen is away, Zichen makes short work of toeing off his boots and stepping out of his trousers.

Shivers travel up and down his spine as Xingchen caresses his thighs, but his muscles tense as those soft lips wrap around his member. Song Lan's fingers curl into fists at his sides, resisting all natural urges to move or grab at his beloved. A plaintive, whining sort of moan bubbles up unbidden from his throat, a desperate, needy sort of sound that gently demands more.