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Midday rolling around is both good and bad. The sun is most vicious at high noon, stirring up hallucinations and sucking what’s left of the moisture from the cracked ground. Now sweltering heat just sounds like hell, but it brings patrons to Xiaojun’s saloon. Miners and politicians take their breaks around noon, spilling through the saloon’s cheap wooden doors and emptying their wallets for refreshing lagers.
At his busiest hour, Xiaojun’s extra grateful for his employees. Although Yangyang gets more beer on the floor than in the patrons’ mouths, and Jaehyun tends to chat everyone up, ending up with a bruise or two by the end of the day, they’re good company and they keep Xiaojun from losing his mind.
Working a wet cloth diligently over the rim of a glass mug, Xiaojun squints at his dust-clouded saloon, noting that it’s definitely less packed than usual. There are only a couple of patrons sat at the bar, a few playing poker at a table in the corner, some others scattered around.
“Ya’ll notice somethin’?”
“That it’s hotter n’ a donkey’s ass in here?” Yangyang says, fanning himself with his hands to make his point. “Hell yeah.”
“Naw, why do you think we aren’t busy today? We’d usually be busting our asses right about now.”
A gruff man who’s nursing a beer at the counter clears his throat to join their conversation. “Don’t y’know? Some of em’ are scared ‘cause an outlaw is payin’ us a visit.”
This peaks Yangyang’s interest, making his eyes sparkle with childlike wonder. He’s always taken a liking to stories about famous outlaws. “Who is it?”
“Folks call him Hendery.”
Xiaojun scrunches his nose and places the mug into a cabinet, standing on his toes just to reach. He’s not like Yangyang. The fact that people idolize those who kill and steal and run from the law is just idiotic to him. Outlaws probably have the smarts of dust that peskily gathers on Xiaojun’s wooden countertops. The only thing they have going for them is their boldness in doing what they want when they want.
Tugging his dark red vest back down over his thin waist, he tuts in annoyance and grabs the next dirty glass, facing his back to the rest of the saloon. “Well somebody aught to tell this Hendery,” he starts, saying the name as mockingly as his sweet voice allows him, “to high tail it out of this town.”
The familiar creaking of the front door’s hinges, followed by firm footsteps over the worn floorboards, informs Xiaojun that a new patron just walked in. Yangyang can take this one while Xiaojun cleans up, he thinks, continuing with his complaints and wiping a glass down throughly. “Just talk of this Hendery turns my fuckin’ money away, how fair is that? People like him don’t need that kinda power, those useless bastards.”
“Why don’t you stop runnin’ your filthy mouth and pour me a drink, sugar?” The voice is so deep and authoritative that it makes the already sweltering atmosphere rise in temperature. Yeah, Xiaojun hates attitude, but it’s his dirty little secret that being disrespected is a turn-on for him.
He places his glass down on the table behind him and tosses the washcloth aside, turning to face the patron and folding his arms over his chest. He hasn’t seen this man around before, especially not at his bar. He’s ruggedly handsome, with a lean and subtly built frame leaning against the counter, dark eyes that ravage Xiaojun’s composure, and well-crafted features that would make anyone’s wife swoon. The first thing Xiaojun thinks is: “I want that man to fuck me until I pass out.” He licks over his lower lip, making sure it’s not chapped out of self-consciousness. “Yeah, right. Wanna try that again?” he tests.
“I don’t think I do,” the rugged stranger replies, taking his hat off and tossing it onto the counter. He runs his veiny hands through his sweat-soaked waves, tousling them up to relieve his hat-hair. Xiaojun ogles for a little too long.
“Xiaojun...” Yangyang whispers, tapping his shoulder, but he fails to get his attention. Xiaojun’s eyes are fixed to this rude patron, narrowed and calculating. “I don’t think you should escalate this.” He knows Xiaojun too well.
Ignoring Yangyang’s warnings, Xiaojun takes a stride toward the counter, splaying his palms over the rough surface. “This is my saloon. Either show some respect or leave.”
The patron straightens his posture, silently pointing out that he’s bigger than Xiaojun. He doesn’t seem angry as he rakes his eyes over his features. He looks amused. “Or what? What are you gonna do ‘bout it, sweetheart?”
Xiaojun backs down a little bit, elbows trembling at the confident and tough energy the other exudes. He likes this feeling. It’s as if he’s a rabbit stepping on a snake’s tail, provoking his predator for the hell of it. And honestly, he wants to be devoured. Before he can piece a response together, rugged and handsome speaks up again. “That’s what I thought. What can I call you?”
“Xiaojun. And you are?”
“Name’s Hendery,” he replies, chuckling at Xiaojun’s responding gulp. “I’m assuming you’ve heard of me.”
As he’s said since he could first talk, and will stand by until he speaks his last words, outlaws are the fucking worst. He hates them, he hates Hendery. His mother always told him that you should only have sex with someone you love, but hatred is an emotion just as strong, isn’t it? Excuses, excuses. He just wants to get treated like a pathetic little bitch, and Hendery looks like he’s more than willing to fulfill that want.
“I have, and by the sound of it, you’re not the kinda person I want in my saloon. I can’t accept a low bastard’s money,” Xiaojun bristles.
Hendery’s smug grin falters. He seems more shocked than angry, given that someone standing up to him is a rare occurrence. Then again, maybe he is angry underneath his steel exterior. He reaches over the counter to grab at Xiaojun’s collar, pulling him close and making him whine as his hips press painfully against the edge of the countertop. From this distance, Xiaojun’s senses are drowning in Hendery’s earthy smell. “You think I’ll take shit from a puny bitch like yourself?”
Xiaojun can feel his cock hardening against the counter, his skin heating up at the closeness and the rough treatment. With the ruthless afternoon heat and his embarrassing arousal, he feels like a puddle. He has the urge to launch himself over the counter and kiss the shit out of Hendery, but he’ll behave. For now. “I don’t wanna make my patrons uncomfortable,” he says, shamelessly staring at Hendery’s pinkish lips, “if we’re gonna fight, we should take it somewhere else.”
Hendery opens his mouth to respond, but Xiaojun blurts out “my bedroom. It’s upstairs.”
The dark eyes fixed on Xiaojun are harsh, prodding, questioning what the fuck is going on in this little bar dog’s head. Hendery loosens his grip on Xiaojun’s collar. “Show me.”
So he asks Yangyang to take over, patting his orange hair to soothe him as he assures that he’ll be just fine. Then he leads Hendery to his room. It’s small, well lit by the single window hidden behind a sheer white curtain. It’s just enough for Xiaojun, but it feels a lot smaller when he’s accompanied by a sultry outlaw.
Once the door is closed and locked, Xiaojun hooks his fingers under the rough leather of Hendery’s belt, using it to tug him close. A wave of lust washes over him as he takes in another lungful of his scent. Everything about Hendery, his aura, the way he holds himself, it’s so sexy, so dominant. “Make me regret talkin’ to you like that.”
“You’re fucking stupid,” Hendery remarks, grabbing Xiaojun’s hips regardless. His fingers are unrelenting, digging into the doughy flesh of his hips, making him hiss at the dull pain. He attacks the fair skin on Xiaojun’s neck with bites and suctioned kisses, muttering against the warm pulse at the base of his throat. “You don’t know what you’re gettin’ yourself into.”
Xiaojun is reeling, scrambling his hands up Hendery’s muscular arms and holding onto him weakly. Right now, his mind is muddled with Hendery’s rough voice, the way his weathered lips feel against his delicate skin, thoughts of all the things he wants this fucking outlaw to do to him. He tilts his head back desperately and arches against Hendery’s warm, hard body as Hendery starts grinding against his crotch. He honestly doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into, and he loves it. Letting a complete stranger punish him and make him regret, it excites him in a terribly masochistic way.
Hendery mumbles something about Xiaojun acting pathetic, shoving him onto his mattress. A clinking sound rings in his ears as Hendery undoes his obnoxiously sized belt buckle and pushes his pants down a few inches, just enough to fish his cock out, all the while Xiaojun ogles at him like an idiot. Who can blame him? Any cock-loving slut would drool at the sight of Hendery’s erection.
Men with the smallest brains have the biggest dicks, he thinks. No wonder an outlaw has such an impressive girth.
The bed creaks under Hendery’s weight as he settles his knees on either side of Xiaojun’s neck. Xiaojun goes cross-eyed as he stares at Hendery’s massive cock, observing the dark pink color, the prominent veins, the milky white precum pooling in his slit. Just like the slut he is, he licks his lips hungrily, like Hendery is a four course meal.
“Open,” Hendery commands, grabbing Xiaojun’s silky blond locks and yanking to angle his chin upward. Without a second of hesitation, Xiaojun parts his lips, sticking his tongue out and staring right into Hendery’s piercing irises. It’s a confident invitation, and he knows Hendery will want to fuck that smug look out of his pretty face.
Xiaojun’s scalp stings from Hendery’s harsh grip, but he couldn’t care less. Hendery spreads his knees over the cheap linens, sinking until the head of his cock teases Xiaojun’s tastebuds with a salty, musky flavor that makes him hum in delight. He takes it upon himself to lift his head up, straining his neck to suck at the tip, moving his tongue over the flesh in sinful ways.
Hendery tuts and places two fingers against Xiaojun’s forehead, easily pushing his head back down. “Stay still, you filthy whore. Don’t make me say it twice.” His cock tickles Xiaojun’s wet tongue, and there’s nothing he can do but whine pathetically as Hendery rolls his eyes.
Every one of his actions are painfully condescending, but Xiaojun revels in it. He’s just a fucktoy who threw himself at Hendery’s feet, and he gets treated as such. The prospect of it has Xiaojun trying his best not to squirm, looking up at Hendery with glossy eyes and a waiting mouth.
Relief floods Xiaojun’s system as Hendery starts to push his hips forward slowly, letting his heavy cock slide over Xiaojun’s tongue until it touches the back of his throat. He closes his mouth around Hendery and licks the underside gratefully. His cock feels heavenly in Xiaojun’s mouth, thick and heavy, throbbing against his tongue.
Xiaojun lets out a moan as Hendery begins rocking his hips, thrusting in and out of his mouth. Before he knows it, Hendery’s pace has picked up, and he’s being mouth-fucked, laying still as he can, letting Hendery push his head up and pull it back down in time with his thrusts. The way that the tip abuses the back of his throat is intoxicating. Not to mention that Hendery can only sheath a little over half his cock in Xiaojun’s mouth. He’s absolutely enamored with his dick, worshipping it with wanton licks and sucks, salivating over it until spit starts to roll down his cheeks. The activity produces filthy sounds, wet suction noises and sloppy squelches.
Hendery slows down just to forcefully wedge his cock down Xiaojun’s throat, and Xiaojun wants to be good for him, relaxing and shutting his eyes as he endures the dull sting of his throat stretching around dick. “Jesus, Xiaojun,” Hendery groans, grinding down once three quarters are engulfed by the delicious heat of Xiaojun’s mouth. “Good god, your mouth. So good.”
Praise is something he thought he’d never hear fall out of Hendery’s lips. But he’s been wrong many times before.
Hendery starts up a pace again, fucking into Xiaojun haphazardly until his face starts to go purple and tears fall out of the corners of his eyes. He wouldn’t be as fun if he’s passed out, so Hendery shows some mercy and pulls out, watching smugly as Xiaojun turns on his side and curls into himself, coughing and panting, drooling all over his clean linens.
“Is that enough? Or do you recon you deserve more for disrespectin’ me, baby?” The mattress complains as Hendery crawls backward, leveling his face with Xiaojun’s so he can hold his jaw and force him to look up. “Answer me.”
“More,” Xiaojun croaks out, whining and rubbing his throat afterward. His own voice is painful to use, scratching at his sensitive esophagus and making his throat burn.
Hendery looks nothing but proud of what he’s done to Xiaojun, leaning closer to peck his spit-slick lips. “More what?”
“I’m a n-naughty bitch,” Xiaojun struggles, his voice hardly over a rash whisper, “I regret jack shit.”
“So?” Hendery urges, warm breath pouring over Xiaojun’s lips. He presses his thumb to his lower lip, rubbing the plush, reddened flesh and humming at how luxurious his lips still are.
Xiaojun teases his tongue under the calloused digit, licking at it like a thirsty cat. “Don’t show mercy ‘till I regret talkin’ to you in such a way.”
He feels Hendery’s thumb pushing down against his tongue and opens his mouth wider, strangling a delighted gasp in his throat once Hendery spits and he feels the minty substance creep down his tongue.
The full taste of Hendery is even more mouth-watering, he discovers once their lips crash together and tongues mingle almost immediately, hungrily. It is, as Yangyang mentioned earlier, ridiculously fucking hot. It’s definitely not better up in Xiaojun’s room, which bakes underneath the un-insulated ceiling and turns the small quarters into an oven. They’re both covered in shiny layers of sweat that bead up into droplets in Xiaojun’s collarbones, hair absolutely soaked and clothes begging to be ripped off. Considering the torturous weather, they’re parched, satiating each other’s thirst with desperate kisses.
Hendery sucks on Xiaojun’s tongue and pulls a moan out of his worn throat, scraping his teeth teasingly over the soft, pink flesh. As he loses his restraint, Xiaojun’s hands fly up into Hendery’s inky locks, tangling in them and keeping his face secured against his own. Hendery can taste the desperation on Xiaojun’s tongue as he salivates like hell, spit dripping from the corner of his mouth and pooling in the sheets.
Much to Xiaojun’s dismay, Hendery pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to detach the glistening strings of saliva that run from his lips to Xiaojun’s bared tongue. Xiaojun gets bold enough to chase his lips, so he pushes his forehead down yet again, rolling to the side of his lithe figure. “Strip. N’ make it a show for me, sugar.”
And what kind of whore would Xiaojun be if he declined? He sits up and rests on his haunches, working his fingers down the buttons of his vest and shrugging it onto the floor behind him.
Hendery still looks amused as ever, laying comfortably over Xiaojun’s cheap mattress, chin resting in his palm. His chocolatey irises are full of devilish intentions and dark desires, making Xiaojun shiver under his gaze. Just one look at Hendery, and he can fucking tell that the rugged outlaw knows no limits. That’s all Xiaojun wants in a man, that’s why his cock is still rock-hard in his slacks, endlessly roused by Hendery’s powerful presence.
Maybe, no definitely, Xiaojun’s far from right in the head. He finds pleasure in aggressive affairs, getting ravaged and left barely intact in the hands of an unrelenting stranger.
Sucking in a shaky breath, he bunches the white fabric of at the hem of his blouse in his fists, tugging it up and over his head slowly, revealing his thin, delicate waist, his flawless skin, his pert nipples. He’s a stark contrast to Hendery, who has tan, scarred, weathered skin, encasing rippling muscle and mouth-watering strength. His blouse hits the floor with a soft thud, the fabric weighed down by his sweat.
He tries his best to put on a show, arching his back and licking between his lips, trying to look pretty as he loosens his belt buckle and slides the leather accessory out of its loops, slowly, tantalizingly. A glimmer of appreciation is present in Hendery’s eyes that actively explore Xiaojun’s body. The bartender is sin personified, cheeks rosy with nothing but lust, chest heaving up and down with each heavy breath, damp hair sticking to his forehead in messy clumps. He looks like sex, and they’ve barely started.
He tugs his burgundy pants down slowly, watching Hendery’s eyes flit south. Xiaojun’s cheeks probably burn to the touch right now. Hendery really strikes all of his matches. His pretty cock finally springs free, twitching under Hendery’s gaze.
“You’re so hard,” Hendery observes, letting a smirk of scrutiny touch his lips.
“Speak for yourself, big boy,” Xiaojun teases, kicking the rest of his pants off and letting them fall onto the floorboards. He tosses a leg over Hendery’s thighs, straddling him and running an index finger down the sweat-slick skin of his exposed—thanks to Hendery’s neglect of fastening his top three buttons—chest. “Don’t tell me you plan on keepin’ these pesky garments on ya. Lemme undress you—“
His sentence is interrupted by a harsh slap that slices through the humid air in his room. He holds his cheek, dumbfounded and pathetically turned on by the piercing sting on his skin. Hendery shakes his head in disapproval, grabbing Xiaojun by his throat and digging his fingertips into fragile flesh. “Know your place, stupid bitch,” he chastises. Xiaojun bites his tongue, trying not to whimper at the pain. His efforts end up useless anyway, compromised by a heavy slap to his bare ass. That slap is much louder, no doubt audible to the patrons in his saloon below.
Xiaojun’s cock leaks a droplet of precum, he can feel it rolling slowly down his head. His lust for pain never fails to amaze him.
Hendery releases his grip and shoves Xiaojun away from him, ignoring the whine of protest. “I’ve never met someone so dirt stupid in my life,” he scoffs, “do you have oil or what?”
“Yes, I—“
“Be useful for once and get it.”
It’s not just physical pain that riles Xiaojun up. Hits to his pride are like dirty talk to him, making his cock twitch and his stomach swoop. He hates feeling so above everyone all the time, so it’s a nice change of pace to be treated like the dirt under someone’s boots.
He nods lazily and climbs out of Hendery’s lap, feet padding across the short distance to his wardrobe. The oil is tucked into his undergarment drawer, sitting in a small vial that he plucks out and rolls between his clammy fingers.
The rattling sound of metal bullets raining over his wooden floor makes him jump, so he turns around to catch Hendery smacking the cylinder back into his revolver that was previously in its holster, grinning devilishly and slicking his tongue over his lip. “My lap. Now.”
Xiaojun gulps and lets his trembling legs take him back to Hendery, straddling his lap again and sitting still and pretty for him, waiting for his next command. “Slick yourself.” So he does, biting the cork out of his vial and sticking his fingers into the slick, rosemary scented substance. He places the vial aside and wastes no time in forcing a thin digit into his tight heat, whining at the arousal that swims through his spine.
As Xiaojun works the oil into his hole, Hendery presses the tip of his revolver against his abdomen, making his stomach dip to avoid the cool metal. He sucks in a gasp, grabbing onto Hendery’s shoulder and peeking down at him with questioning eyes.
“There’s still a bullet in this motherfucker,” he exclaims, making Xiaojun’s blood lurch cold in his veins. “If you behave, I shouldn’t have to pull the trigger. You’ll never know which take is your last.” Now this is a filthy game of Russian roulette. It should make Xiaojun quiver in fear, but it only makes him squirm against his finger, rubbing it against his walls, turned on by the mere fact that he’s risking his life just to feel Hendery’s dick inside him. Like a slut who’s dumber than rocks.
“You think I’ll hesitate because you’re pretty, baby,” Hendery assumes, miscalculating Xiaojun’s needy reaction. “I fucking wont,” he warns, voice colder than dry ice,
“I don’t have a problem with using your pretty corpse as a sex toy. I’ll leave your rotting body pathetic and covered head to toe by my release and your filthy blood, do you understand?”
It’s fucking sick, the threat that Hendery spits Xiaojun’s way. It’s a description that would make most people toss their cookies on the spot, and to Hendery’s surprise, it makes Xiaojun’s cock twitch. Just the thought of his listless, dull body being fucked into, handled like a valueless object and screwed against his deathbed, his blood slowly unfurling into the sheets beneath him as Hendery ravages his cold insides with his huge fucking cock. It makes his toes curl. “Hendery...” he moans, shoving a second finger into himself and rocking back against his hand.
“What? Do you like that?” Hendery starts moving his revolver south, teasingly running the barrel over Xiaojun’s cock. He pushes it against his tip, sending electrifying pleasure up his shaft.
“Mh,” Xiaojun confirms, nodding and digging his fingers into Hendery’s shoulder, swirling his fingers around inside himself, “you talk so dirty. And you say I have a filthy mouth,” the teasing comes out before he can think about it, something deep inside him wanting Hendery to pull the trigger.
“Brainless slut,” Hendery deadpans. Xiaojun holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut as a loud click vibrates his cock. His adrenaline has kicked in, making his arms shake and uncontrollable tears roll down his cheeks. Fear hurts. It makes his chest tight and his blood toxic in his veins. But he lucked out. The first chamber is empty, and his dick was spared from being blown off.
He collapses onto Hendery’s chest, burying his face against the firm, musky skin and sobbing, pulling his fingers out to grasp at Hendery’s leather jacket. The overwhelming need to get fucked before he’s shot like a rabid mutt fogs his brain, and that’s his only goal right now. He doesn’t even care to make it out of his bedroom alive. “I want to feel you so bad,” he cries out, bucking his hips all needy against Hendery’s thighs, ignoring how the revolver between them presses painfully against his stomach, “please, oh my god, please!”
“Aw,” Hendery coos, sliding his free hand down Xiaojun’s back and making him writhe against his body. “I’m threatenin’ to kill you, but you still need to get fucked by me so badly,” he points out, pressing his index finger down Xiaojun’s asscrack and teasing at his slick hole, “isn’t that pathetic? Do you really value my cock more than your own life?” His rough finger plunges into Xiaojun’s heat, instantly working in and out a brutal pace that creates lewd, wet sounds and makes Xiaojun squirm and gasp.
“Yes,” he moans, shamelessly drooling down Hendery’s chest and pressing sticky, noisy kisses to the tanned skin, “your cock is god, Hendery. Fuck me into heaven, please.”
“You damn sure aren’t going to heaven, sweetheart.” Two more fingers are added and Xiaojun hisses at the stretch, pushing his ass against Hendery’s hand. “You’re worshipping a sinner’s cock, for fucks sake. When I meet you in hell, your pretty little asshole won’t catch a break for five seconds.”
Xiaojun’s eyes go crossed under his heavy eyelids at Hendery’s words. He already looks like a fucking corpse, letting a puddle of drool collect under his cheek, body listlessly hiking up Hendery’s with each ruthless thrust of his fingers. The heat doesn’t help, making his skin glisten with perspiration and sucking the air out of his lungs. He finally comes back to life when Hendery starts to shove a fourth finger into his asshole, massaging Xiaojun’s perineum with his thumb. A choked cry escapes his lips and he bites the collar of Hendery’s shirt, cracking a plastic button between his teeth.
“If you cant take this, there’s no way in hell you can take my cock,” Hendery says, lazily forcing all four fingers in until his knuckles push against Xiaojun’s tight rim. It hurts like hell, but the pain is so good. He curls and twists them, raking the rough pads of his fingers against his sweet spot.
Xiaojun swears he could cum right there, screaming and shuddering as his cock helplessly leaks precum onto Hendery’s pants.
“Your bar dog down there is gonna hear you. Probably gonna call the sheriff. If they bust down the door to see you gettin’ railed like the horny bitch you are, then what, hm?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Xiaojun slurs, “I’on care.”
Hendery pulls his fingers out, leaving Xiaojun’s hole empty and stinging. Before he can complain, Xiaojun is manhandled onto his fours, forehead pressed against the splintering wood of his headboard. Hendery grabs a handful of Xiaojun’s doughy asscheek, pressing against the middle of his spine and forcing him to arch his back.
Xiaojun scrambles for purchase in his linens, biting his lower lip and preparing for whatever Hendery is about to do. He hears the clinking of Hendery handling his gun, bracing himself before he feels the metal push into his entrance. His rim flutters around it, clenching and sucking the barrel in as Hendery twists it experimentally, watching the rosemary oil spread over muted metal. “Is my cock worth three shots?”
Xiaojun’s heart races, making his pulse beat against his temples. His luck only goes so far. He’s almost positive that three shots will bring his death, but he can hardly care.
“Answer now,” Hendery demands, slapping Xiaojun’s plush ass.
“Yes. Do it.”
A tear slips down Xiaojun’s flushed cheek and drips onto the sheets as he waits for Hendery to pull the trigger. A metallic click. A second. A third. And Xiaojun exhales on a broken sob, almost collapsing against his mattress when Hendery pulls the revolver out. “Good boy,” he praises, rubbing Xiaojun’s ass soothingly. “You’re being so good for me.” The bed dips and creaks as Hendery stretches to grab the vial of oil, and Xiaojun exhales through his teeth, thanking whatever god that he can finally feel Hendery inside him.
He hears Hendery shrugging his jacket off and unbuttoning his shirt, probably trying to keep himself from having a heatstroke. Then he hears the squelching of Hendery slicking his own dick up. And he feels the thick head against his rim, trying his best not to push back against it. He’s finally getting what he wants, so pissing Hendery off again is the last thing he wants to do.
Hendery is trying to force his cock in, but it hardly budges, only making Xiaojun grunt at the pain. He spreads his legs a little farther, trying to make it easier, because one way or another, Xiaojun is getting Hendery inside him. He doesn’t care how much pain it takes.
“Sorry,” Hendery whispers, using his palms to spread Xiaojun’s cheeks and shove just the head into the pink ring of muscle.
The stretch is possibly the worst pain Xiaojun has experienced in his life, making him sob and whimper as his knuckles turn white, clenched in his linens. “Hendery, p-please get it over with, it fuckin’ hurts so bad.”
So Hendery tries to go as quickly as he can without tearing Xiaojun’s sensitive entrance, holding tight onto his bony hip and slowly sheathing himself. Halfway through, he has to wiggle himself in and out, making Xiaojun moan and hang his head, the few strands of hair that aren’t stuck together with sweat dangling in front of his eyes.
After what seems like hours, Hendery finally bottoms out, grinding into Xiaojun’s painfully tight asshole and making them both moan. “I honestly didn’t think you would take it,” Hendery admits, rubbing soothing circles into Xiaojun’s hip with his thumb. “But you can, you’re taking my cock so well.”
Xiaojun curls his toes at the praise, pressing his ass back against Hendery. He’s never felt so full before, his insides stuffed to their limit with cock, walls so snug around Hendery that he can feel every twitch and throb clear as day. He tries to clench around Hendery, grinding his ass back in tantalizing circles, smug to hear the breathy groan behind him.
But the proud look on his face disappears as soon as Hendrey pulls halfway out and slams back in, making Xiaojun’s elbows buckle as he moans, face falling against his mattress. He does it again, and again, until he sets a moderate pace that has Xiaojun spilling loud, breathy moans with each thrust.
Hendery starts to pull out until only the head is engulfed before snapping his hips forward and making the headboard slam against the wall. He gets faster until Xiaojun is writhing helplessly, producing slutty moans like a broken record, soaking his mattress with tears, sweat, and spit. He can’t tell which substance is which at this point, pressing his face against the soiled sheets and letting his tongue fall out of his mouth, sticking to the soaked fabric. He looks disgusting right now, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s being fucked dizzy.
The room sounds like sex and nothing but sex, from the loud clapping of Hendery’s hips against Xiaojun’s ass, the obscene squelching from his oil-soaked thrusts, the bed creaking rhythmically with the headboard nearly smashing the wall in. The cheap wallpaper behind the headboard is denting and peeling from the headboard’s assault.
Xiaojun can’t imagine the sensation getting any better, but Hendery is full of surprises.
He feels a yank at the back of his hair and throws his head back compliantly, crying out at the pain as Hendery scoops his hand underneath Xiaojun’s throat and uses the hold on it to pull Xiaojun upright. He nearly falls back against Hendery, essentially a breathing rag doll, leaning his head back against Hendery’s muscular shoulder as his arms dangle uselessly at his sides.
Before Xiaojun can fall forward again, Hendery scoots toward the headboard until he has Xiaojun pressed up against it, holding both of his hips firmly before resuming his thrusts.
Now this is ecstasy. Hendery’s cock is rubbing harshly against Xiaojun’s sweet spot, the tip prodding at his abdomen and making it bulge with each thrust forward. Hendery’s warm breath tickles his neck as he leans back against him, one hand holding onto his forearm and the other tangled in Hendery’s mess of hair.
Xiaojun knows his moans and gasps are over the top, slutty, so fucking loud, but he can hardly control them. His face is flushed a dangerous red color, his eyes are screwed shut, and his thick eyebrows are knitted together.
A small, grateful noise leaves his lips as Hendery presses two fingers against the bulge in his abdomen, torturing his skin between fingers and cock. “You’re so tiny,” Hendery observes, stroking gentle circles around the throbbing area. “You feel amazing.”
Xiaojun struggles to respond through his desperate breaths and helpless moans, mumbling out something like “big. Feels so good... inside.”
“Oh, baby,” Hendery groans, burying his face against Xiaojun’s neck and thrusting erratically into his warm, slick heat. Xiaojun assumes that Hendery’s close, given that he feels his warm, roughly textured hand roaming over his dick before he wraps his fingers around it and gives it a couple pumps, trying to get Xiaojun there before him.
Embarrassingly, that’s all it takes for Xiaojun to come undone, digging his nails into Hendery’s forearm, all but screaming Hendery’s name, jetting a thick load of cum that slides down the headboard and spills over Hendery’s fingers. The wave of pleasure that comes over him makes his legs tremble, white hot pleasure washing through every nerve. He’s never felt anything like it, so spent once it’s over that he goes completely limp in Hendery’s arms.
Hendery continues to thrust as he groans roughly, spilling his cum into Xiaojun and riding out his high. It feels like his orgasm is minutes long, but maybe that’s because the overstimulation is killing Xiaojun, making him whine helplessly.
Hendery finally pulls out, and Xiaojun can feel warm cum crawling down his inner thigh, onto the already moist spot on his mattress.
He feels Hendery lay him down and pull him close, gently carding his hand through Xiaojun’s hair. “Look at me, darling,” he says, sweetly running his thumb over Xiaojun’s cheekbone.
He opens his eyes to see Hendery holding his revolver, smiling impishly. “Wanna know something?” he chuckles, pressing a button that releases the cylinder so Xiaojun can see that there weren’t any bullets in the gun at all.
“You are too pretty for me to shoot.”