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“Oi, L. It’s the blonde ‘un again. Get ‘em out of the gamblin’ hall so ‘e stops scaring away customers with them eyebrows, will ya? ‘E’s askin’ fer your services again.”
Peace is rarer than a happy whore, Levi bitterly thinks, sitting hunched on a wooden stool within the communal bathroom. He throws his soapy rag back into the basin of warm water, casting a sudsy splash onto the wooden floor.
At the open door, one of the smarmy managers of the bordello watches Levi tug on a pair of fitted, unlaced pants. At least he managed to get a quick clean in after his last customer. Just his fuckin’ luck that the blonde sun-sucker from Above decided to stroll his lofty ass down here at this precise moment. He’s had ten minutes to himself. Now he has to deal with that freak.
“Send him in. I’m in B today.” Withholding his typical tch, a tell of his irritation, Levi empties the rusting basin into the floor drain. He’s wearing sandals he found out of some trash heap on the streets, practically falling apart on his feet—but he refuses to step bare-footed into this fucking room.
Axel, Levi thinks his name is (or was it Asshat? Anus? Annoying Asshole? Levi thinks these suit him better), lingers for whatever fucking reason and continues wagging his idiotic tongue.
“Aye. Do y’think ‘e stores them fat wads of cash in ‘is pants? Or, tell me—is ‘e really packin’ a monster in there?” Asshead laughs like a punctured accordion. In silence, Levi angrily pulls his loose, black tunic back on. Obviously, the other man is waiting for a reply, watching him redress. So, Levi grants him one.
While shrugging on his brown vest and refastening it, Levi calmly responds, voice flat, “If you want to find out, I’ll direct him to your office. You wanna take ‘em off my back? Be my guest. With that monster, he might even punch your two remaining teeth out when he’s screwin’ your mouth. Get your answer then, won’t ya?”
Levi knows he doesn’t like to be disrespected by the escorts. It’ll probably bite him in the ass later, but Levi’s satisfaction outweighs his regret, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth with his back to the fucker.
“Don’t be fuckin’ vile, you little shit’ead. Will ya ‘urry the fuck up? You want t’lose ‘is money? Good fer nothin’ hole,” the scumbag snaps, pissed by his back-talking. Levi is unbothered. He does up his pants and then charges out of the bathroom, shouldering past Axel with a sneer directed at his ugly, toothless mug. The other man waves him off harshly and then slips back out onto the main floor like the filthy snake he is—always a predator, looking for victims of his greed.
“Why the hell you lookin’ at his package, anyways? Fuckin’ idiot...” Levi grumbles all the way to his room, sour now. Although, isn’t he always? Always bitter, always frowning. The amount of times he’s been told to smile a little more, both by employers and customers, has to be in the triple digits by now.
Back in his assigned room for the evening, Levi tidies up. He’s lucky the last guy wanted to just fuck over the dresser rather than the bed. Means he doesn’t have to scramble to remake it and fix it up before the rich one arrives.
Levi has ten minutes to himself—Blondie probably felt chivalrous and gave him the time to prepare. Levi takes care putting away his clothing immaculately, as well as fixing up his hair. This one requested he always be fully naked when he arrives, which Levi actually prefers. Makes it go by quicker.
When there’s a knock on the door, Levi’s stomach flips.
“Come in,” Levi calls, sitting at the edge of the bed, crossing his arms. He hears the rattle of the key and then disengagement of the iron lock. The door swings open and Blondie—Smith, as he’s introduced himself before (boring fucking alias, but alright)—steps inside.
His face is a mask, though when he lays eyes on Levi, the faintest hint of a smile prods at his lips, seemingly out of obligation more than anything else. He shuts and locks the door behind himself.
“Hello, L. How are you today?” Smith asks, entering the room, his shiny leather shoes smartly tapping against the bare floorboards. “I hope you’ve been well in my absence.”
He opens his long coat, procures a small bundle from an inner pocket. Levi grunts, watching him place it on the side table to Levi’s left.
Looking up at him, Levi stares. His hair is as immaculately made as always, and his eyes are disarmingly blue. But they hold little light to them, like he’s merely an image of a human.
Levi shrugs.
“I’m fine. You look real fuckin’ snazzy today. You must’a got jumped on the way here, lookin’ like that.” Levi sweeps his gaze over Smith’s straight-backed form. He’s wearing a vest, pin-striped, over a crisp white dress shirt, accompanied by slacks and a nice pair of leather gloves. Matches the long coat.
Levi peers up at his calmly smiling face and grunts, “Why are you fuckin’ some punk from the Underground like me, anyways? Isn’t that below your kind? Can’t find a pretty lil’ bitch upstairs that’ll do the weird shit you’re askin’ for?”
“My, you’re talkative today.” Smith’s smile becomes a tad wider, but it pulls at his face like his skin is made of wax. Creepy.
Levi eyes him, distrustful. Smith removes his gloves slowly, one finger at a time, searching Levi’s face as he speaks, his voice a soothing, low tone that is aggravatingly nice to listen to, versus the slew of garbage coming out of the mouths of those around him.
“You’d be surprised what prostitutes are willing to do Aboveground.”
Smith tucks his leather gloves into the pocket of his long coat, and then slips the expensive piece of clothing off his shoulders. “Some truly appalling things, if the price is right. But you see, unlike your kind, they do not value discretion. My reputation would suffer greatly if word spread regarding my recreational proclivities.”
Levi scratches at the back of his head, sighing. He looks at Smith tiredly.
“Er… what? Talk like a normal fuckin’ person for once.”
Smith laughs. Levi crosses his arms again, squints at his amused face. The smile seems more genuine now.
Smith hooks the long coat on the coat rack by the door, showing Levi his broad back, dressed up in cloths Levi will probably never wear in his life. The sleek fabric and intricate design of his vest looks… well, like rich people shit.
Levi is getting impatient already. He turns to the side table and begins unwrapping the package Smith always brings along.
“Dare I add, you are quite my type, as well,” Smith says, disregarding Levi’s complaint.
No point in teaching an Underground whore about vocabulary, anyways, Levi bitterly thinks as he grabs the small vial of clear liquid, alongside the folded handkerchief. He glances over to see Smith seated at the small table by the door, leaning over to remove his leather shoes. Smith is staring at him intensely, the flame of his eyes scorching. Levi freezes. Smith’s smile becomes false again.
“Let’s not be hasty, L. Wait for me. Put the vial down.”
Obediently, Levi places the vial on the small table. He fiddles with the handkerchief in his hands, staring at the big words on the tiny glass bottle—some stuff only doctors would know.
“Thank you,” Smith’s voice is gentle, earning Levi’s gaze—he gets a nice view of the top of Smith’s head. A blinding surface of flaxen blonde. Levi stares at his perfect hair resentfully. There’s no way that’s natural. Probably some expensive shit he puts in it. The kind of crap only the vultures get access to, while the rats down here get nothing.
He’d removed his fancy shoes—Levi wonders how much they’d go for on the market—and is now rolling off his socks. Levi can’t stand the silence. It’s just too uncomfortable with this weirdo.
“So… Are we doin’ the same shit again?” he asks awkwardly, shifting on the bed, grimacing at himself for his painfully lacking social skills. He didn’t think he’d need much of it for this kind of work. All he needs is a hole that can take just about everything and a somewhat pretty face.
Smith hums imploringly, folding his socks into his shoes before he rises from the wooden chair. He looks at Levi while undoing the buttons to his rich vest, cocking one of those bushy brows. Levi scrambles.
“Y-You know. The… thing you always wanna do. Doesn’t that get boring? You sure you don’t wanna mix things up once in a while?”
“Is it boring you?” Smith asks this so collectedly, his voice perfectly level, his eyes piercing through Levi’s—like he’s made of ice. Levi hates that he spoke up. This always fucking happens. Smith is good at making him feel cornered.
“Who fucking cares what I think?” Levi snaps, defending himself, bristling. “You know what, forget I said anythin’. It’s your fuckin’ money.”
The slight smile that appears on Smith’s handsome face is aggravating. Levi sneers. Smith drapes his vest neatly over the backrest of the chair. He unravels his necktie, followed by his crisp, white shirt. He folds both, mindful of wrinkles, and places them on the chair.
Turning to Levi, Smith’s big hands find his belt. His halting eyes never leave Levi’s while unbuckling it, the sound of metal against metal filling the room.
“I wasn’t asking with intent to challenge you. I was asking because your enjoyment of this arrangement matters very much to me. So, L, does it bore you?”
Levi feels the heat rise to his face, and it pisses him off. He shrugs flippantly.
“No. Whatever you want. I don’t care. Why are you dressed up so fancy, anyways? Trying to rub it in down here, as if the people don’t suffer enough?”
“I attended a gala,” Smith answers, stepping out of his slacks, his undergarments, exposing his muscular legs swept in dark blonde hair. Levi has to admit, he’s got a nice set of junk, too. Smith neatly folds those articles of clothing as well, places them with his shirt and tie. “I felt it unnecessary to take the trek home just to change into something less ostentatious. The clothing is to come off regardless.”
Levi grits his teeth, irritated by the big fucking words. Whatever. He shouldn’t even bother trying to talk to this prick. He’ll nudge him out of the conversation with his education.
“Sure, whatever,” Levi sighs. “Look, can I take this now, or what?”
“I paid for the night, not the hour,” Smith replies, joining him on the bed, taking a seat beside him. He gives him one of those fake smiles and it does little to ease Levi’s impatience. “No need to rush. May I have a kiss?”
Smith draws one arm around Levi’s shoulders, hand raising to thread his fingers through Levi’s silky black locks. Levi is so used to being touched without warning—he doesn’t tense up, having trained himself in appearing indifferent or even enthusiastic. Smith doesn’t wait for his permission.
He leans in to kiss Levi.
Angling his head, Levi returns the sharing of their mouths with a false sense of passion, reciprocating the level of intensity Smith gives him.
Soon enough their lips are overlapping deeply, and their tongues meet, mouths opening against each other. The heat of this man is overwhelming. His smell, his presence, his looks, his everything. Levi hates to say, but he really is beautiful for a man. Sexy.
Smith’s big hands are on his biceps, sliding down to his elbows, sweeping around to palm firmly at his chest, squeezing his pecs while their lips move. Somehow, it makes Levi burn. His face heats, and his belly swells with arousal.
This client of his—now a regular, he supposes—is the kind that other whores speak of. Rich, good-looking, skilled. A privilege to have because while it’s always shitty to spread your legs for a paying John or Jane, it’s not so bad if they’re pretty, and a good lay.
For this reason, Levi doesn’t feel the need to be as much a prick with this guy as the others. He pays him well. He’s… considerate—at least, more than you would expect in a place like this.
“Mm, you’re so beautiful,” Smith whispers, kissing down his jaw, his throat. He grabs Levi by the lower biceps, huge hands encompassing his lean arms, and squeezes hard enough to hurt. Levi squirms, gasping in pain, and the man breathes in deeply, as if that sound excites him. He bites at Levi’s collarbone, a strong angle in the alabaster canvas of his skinny chest, and Levi gasps again.
“Shut the fuck up,” Levi growls, and Smith chuckles.
Hazy eyes flicking down, Levi sees that the man’s cock is already half-hard, a heavy thing straining against his thick thigh dusted with blonde curls. He really is fucking gorgeous for a customer—his cock is huge and pretty to look at, pink head peeking out from foreskin, his balls big and cleanly shaven, yet he lets the hair around his groin come in, a darker blonde.
Levi remembers the times he’s sucked on this part of him for ages, getting hornier and hornier the more he breathed in his musky, masculine scent. The weight of his balls on his face as he held his cock down his throat, the man kneeling over his head. Levi gets turned on just thinking about it.
“You keep staring,” Smith murmurs, a laugh in his voice. The comment regains Levi’s attention. He flicks his eyes up to meet Smith’s. Levi feels heat rise to his face. He grunts lazily.
“Yeah. You got a nice cock.”
Smith laughs, a deep sound.
“My, that must be quite the compliment considering how many you see day to day.”
Levi rolls his eyes. Smith looks at him with pleasure in his eyes, smiling.
Then, suddenly, he pushes Levi onto his back, crawling over him. Levi allows it, wide-eyed and red-faced. He stares up at Smith and feels his belly warm, looking over his bigger body as it crawls over him.
Those muscular pecs covered in that dusky blonde hair, his fit stomach but not too fit, the swell of his big thighs, his heavy cock and balls hanging down towards him as he overpowers him, crawling up to lay on top of him. Levi gasps, tipping his head back, and Smith purrs in approval.
“Truly beautiful,” the man says, sliding both hands up into Levi’s black locks, braced on his elbows, peering down at him past his eyelashes. “Lay still.”
“Fuckin’ weirdo,” Levi grunts while Smith carefully rests his full weight upon him, wheezing as the air is forced out of his lungs. He squints up at the man, spreading his legs further apart to make for a better position, letting Smith settle between them. He wraps his arms around him. He curls his lip up at the other man and growls, “God, you’re fuckin’ crushin’ me.”
“Mm. Good,” Smith whispers, leaning down to kiss him again, fisting his hands in his hair. Levi grunts into it, screwing his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowing. Smith’s cock is a heavy, pulsating weight against his inner thigh, twitching there as their mouths sloppily moved together. Levi moans when Smith begins to rock his hips just slightly, so slightly, if only to rub his hardening dick into him.
It feels good, like this. Their bodies aligned, joined, Smith’s burning hot skin a furnace against his own.
Then Smith breaks the kiss, allowing Levi a gasping breath among the crushing of his body, watching his face with undeniable lust in his gaze. Searching in Levi’s hazy eyes, Smith speaks softly, stroking his thumbs over his reddened cheekbones, “I’m going to smother you with that cloth, L. And you’re going to breathe in, aren’t you? You’re going to let me drug you, and then I’m going to have you sit on my face. Isn’t that right?”
Levi nods dumbly, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and flicking nervously between Smith’s. A pleased smile grows on Smith’s full lips. He leans back in to kiss him.
They kiss for a while, crushed as he is under his client. Levi is genuinely gasping for air by the time Smith is done consuming him, keeping his hands rooted in Levi’s hair to prevent any movement, any escape. Already a bit horny from the kissing, Levi watches dimly as the other man rises from him and the bed. While he can, Levi gasps for air, filling his lungs once more.
Smith’s cock is now fully hard and protruding noticeably from the bush of dark blonde hair around his groin. Levi can’t help but stare, hypnotized by the image of this handsome man stroking at himself idly while he approaches the table where the package sits.
Levi seldom ever finds himself eager for sex, or lusting after his clients, because it’s all just work to him but, this man... Goddamn. Levi would fuck this man free of charge if he wasn’t such a freak with his sexual proclivities, and Levi wasn’t struggling to fill his own stomach some nights.
Staring at Smith’s body, he admires the swell of his thighs, his huge muscular ass, his broad back while the man measures out the liquid drug and dabs it onto the cloth designated solely for this purpose. With a smile on his face, Smith joins Levi on the bed, seated close to him. Levi rises up on his elbows, looking up into his giddy blue eyes.
He’s still not sure how to really feel about this kind of thing, considering how vulnerable it makes him… But this freak pays him a lot, and he has yet to do anything malicious, so… whatever. Levi swallows thickly, nodding a little while placing a hand on his client’s wrist.
“Do it,” he mutters. Smith smiles with a little too much joy and brings the cloth to Levi’s face.
“There you go,” Smith whispers, gently smothering it over his nose and mouth, cradling the back of his head. Levi sinks back into the covers, looking up at the man, searching in the rings of his beautifully blue eyes while he breathes in the chemical scent of the aphrodisiac drug. Smith is leaning in close, kneeling beside him, looking into his eyes while the effects overcome his small body quickly.
Blinking slowly, Levi feels drunk all of a sudden. Hazy. Warm. So warm. His skin begins to tingle, and his head feels foggy, pleasantly so. Damn, whatever this shit is, it’s not bad at all.
Levi avoids drugs, seeing what it does to people, especially here in the Underground. But in this case, in a controlled manner with another person paying him to do so—it’s not half bad. Levi clutches weakly at Smith’s wrist, closing his eyes.
“That’s it, breathe it in,” Smith whispers. His deeper voice is coming in through water, thick and distant past the brume which claims Levi’s coherency. Then Smith removes the cloth from his face, murmuring, “That’s enough. How do you feel?”
Levi blinks sluggishly, hands wrapped limply around Smith’s wrist. But then Smith turns it to take Levi’s hands in his. Levi stares down at their joined hands, brow furrowing.
He’s so… dizzy. It’s hard to process anything. His face is on fire, and his heart is pounding a little bit. His entire body is alive, his nerves singing in the best way, and his lower half, centering in his cock, his balls—it all lights up, a rising heat that builds and builds. He feels blood soar south, and he gets hard very quickly. Groaning, Levi tips his head back into the covers. He hears Smith’s deep, quiet laugh.
“Unnh… weird,” Levi mumbles, slurring. He digs his nails into Smith’s big hand and breathes out, “M’fuckin’ horny. This shit is so fuckin’ weird. My ass feels weird.”
Smith laughs.
“Yes, I know. I suppose it’s not something one can get used to, no matter how often we practice it. Do you feel ready to move this along, or do you need a moment?”
Dazedly, Levi stares at the swimming image of his client and tries to find his eyes, but they’re pools of blue and black straying. It’s mildly frightening, how little cognition he has in this moment. Levi’s hands fall limply from Smith’s, and they meet his own flat, heaving belly.
He curls one trembling fist around his hard cock and strokes at himself tightly, slowly, moaning. The man’s distorting face breaks into a grin, and his laugh is a rumbling earthquake in Levi’s ears.
“It seems you’re ready,” Smith says, softly. Levi nods weakly.
“Can you get up?” the man murmurs, stroking his hands up along Levi’s belly, his chest, squeezing at his pecs with the warm, firm grip of his fingers. Levi squirms, arching his hips up, moaning just from that contact. His body is pulled apart, pulled open, receptive to any touch given to it, sensitive and burning. Any touch from Smith feels so good. Levi sighs.
“Dunno… I’ll need, hmm… ah, help…” He can barely focus on talking, lazily stroking at himself, high out of his mind. He stares, wide-eyed, at the fuzzy image of Smith. The bastard must be getting off on this shit—his vulnerability, his intoxication, his incoherence. No—of course he is. That’s why they do this every single damn time.
Smith runs his broad hands slowly down Levi’s biceps.
“Alright. Try and sit up, love.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” Levi slurs, scoffing. The man chuckles.
Levi rises up onto his elbows, reluctantly taking his hand away from his cock to do so. Big hands curl around his lean torso, clutching at his sides, helping him up. Levi sways a bit, moving up onto his hands and knees. This is going to be difficult. Levi really tries to maintain balance as he rises up onto his feet, standing on the bed. Smith strokes and squeezes at his calves, looking up at him. He’s still a swimming image, but Levi can see the smile on his face.
Smith lays down with his head flat on the bed. Levi has to bend over at the waist to place his hands on the bed, otherwise he knows he’d fall and probably collapse on the man’s head, or something. Feeling like an inelegant creature, Levi crawls up over Smith’s body, hands and feet on either side of him, and then carefully turns. This is fucking stupid.
“This is fuckin’ stupid…” Levi decides to vocalize, slurring. “I’m gonna fuckin’ crush you. I c-can barely do this.”
“It’s alright. I trust you.”
“Don’t blame me if I break your nose.”
“I won’t. Come here, now, L.”
Levi peeks between his shaking thighs as he positions himself, squatting over Smith. Smith’s big hands cradle his thighs, his hips, supporting his weight. Smith doesn’t even wait for Levi to sit entirely—he decides to rise up onto his elbow, pushing his face between his asscheeks to begin licking over his hole. Levi exclaims, lurching forward out of it. Smith’s hands curl around his hips and gently pull him back.
“So fuckin’ hasty, shit, you fuckin’ moron, I can barely fuckin’ crouch like this!” Levi snaps, quivering. Smith arches up to begin eating him out again.
Eyes fluttering shut, Levi groans. Shit, he really is sensitive. His hole is unusually tender, sparking with sharp, pleasant sensation. Jolts of hot pleasure shoot through his body with each slow pass of Smith’s thick tongue over his throbbing rim.
Levi really focuses on situating himself despite the mouth on his hole, settling on his knees rather than balancing on his feet. Even now, it’s difficult to support himself, kneeling as he is. He’s so fucking high.
“Ah, God, oh, fuck!” Levi gasps, hands shaking from where they’re propped against Smith’s hairy chest, using his broad torso as leverage. Smith has his hands anchored around his hips, keeping him still as he lapped between his cheeks, licking and licking over his hole.
Squirming slightly, Levi can barely maintain balance. Smith is groaning from underneath him, his hot breaths gusting across Levi’s ass.
Panning his cloudy gaze along his client’s handsome body, Levi sees his cock, and—wow, is he fucking hard. It’s flushed red and twitching occasionally against his clenching stomach, leaking a glistening pool of pre-cum, clinging to his belly hair.
If he wasn’t so fucking short, Levi might lean over and lick at it, but he’s not even close to reaching. All he can do is stare, amazed by how much this seems to turn on the other man. They’ve done this numerous times already, yet Smith never seems to grow tired of it.
The sensation of Smith’s hot tongue pushing into him is almost too much. Levi yelps, rocking his hips out of it, but Smith is quick to pull him back, fingers digging into his hips to the point of pain. Levi squirms, whimpering. Smith really buries his face into his ass, forcing his tongue further into him, and Levi can’t help but cry out, digging his nails into Smith’s chest. His hole is a pulsating heat, and the feeling of his tongue spreading him, pushing into the sensitive rim is too good, too much.
Smith’s huffing breaths pass over the wet, warm skin of his perineum, the back of his balls, as he repeatedly pushes his tongue in and out of him.
“Ah, fuck!” Levi gasps, reaching back with both hands to spread his ass open, eager to get that tongue deeper inside of him despite the overwhelming sensitivity. He sits down on Smith’s face, and Smith groans, angling his head, pushing his chin firmer into Levi to get his tongue deeper into his ass. Levi rocks back into it, gasping, groaning, eyes rolling deliriously.
He can’t believe how horny he’s become, how hard his cock is. The small, pulsating thing stands tall from his body, dripping a continuous line of pre-cum like Smith turned on a tap and left it to run. Smith keeps his tongue pushed into his ass, face buried, and then his hand comes around to grip his cock, firmly kneading at it. Levi arches, a choked sound ripping from his throat.
“I’m gonna come, aah—fuck!—oh, god, stop, I can’t, please—” Levi tries to squirm away, but again, Smith pulls him back. Levi trembles wildly, his eyes screwing shut, mouth hanging slack. His hole flutters and flexes around the tongue, and Smith begins thrusting it again, only to pull back and put his mouth around him, sucking at him. Levi can’t take it.
Collapsing forward onto his hands and knees, he begins fucking fast into Smith’s wet fist, pulling away from his mouth. He dimly hears Smith’s panting, his soft laugh. The body underneath him shifts, as if to sit up, but Levi isn’t present—he’s out of his mind, seeking his roaring orgasm. He feels a hand on his ass, groping firmly at his asscheek. The fist on his cock tightens, working over him while Levi snaps forward into the grip.
A thumb slips in-between his cheeks to circle slowly and firmly over his wet, sensitive hole, and Levi comes with a whimper, a high-pitched sound that fills the room. He shoots three spurts of cum onto Smith’s thighs. Gasping for air, Levi sags forward onto his elbows, hanging his head.
“Oh, God… Fuck,” Levi moans, giving a few more shaky thrusts forward into Smith’s hand. Smith rumbles in approval from behind him, continuing to massage at his hole while Levi twitched through the aftershocks. Then Levi collapses forward, laying upon Smith’s groin, his legs. He feels the burning brand of his erection against him.
Like this, he’s practically giving Smith full view of his asshole, his perineum, his cock. Big hands roam over his quivering thighs, over his ass, spreading him open. Levi feels a hot glob of spit land on his flexing, sensitive hole. Then a forefinger is slowly pushed past the ring, deep inside him, firm and confident.
The feeling is incredible. Levi clenches around it, groaning loudly.
This drug does fucking wonders—it makes anal not only painless, but the best fucking experience. Whenever he breathes in Smith’s drug, he wants something crammed inside him. Wants it so badly his entire body burns. Not only that, but the lack of having something inside of him becomes truly frustrating.
Smith is a silent observer. Levi is too embarrassed to look back at him; he buries his face into Smith’s calf. He moans into it, licking mindlessly at the warm skin while the man calmly works his finger back and forth in his ass at a controlled pace.
Levi can’t believe what this drug does to him. It makes him so horny. The finger isn’t enough. He wants more, needs more. He can’t even focus, so desperate in his current state.
But his pride is still intact. Like hell he’s going to ask.
Abruptly, Smith shoves the full length of his forefinger into him three times—deep, fast thrusts that have his knuckles striking against him. Levi moans loudly, arching his hips back into it. That was so violent, it actually hurt. But the pleasure outweighs the discomfort by a large margin. Levi’s body burns, his hips shuddering, cock pulsing with blood despite his recent orgasm.
But then Smith pulls out his finger, spreads him open, and slaps his sensitive hole in a quick succession of three spanks. Levi’s hips thrust forward while another undignified squeal comes out of him.
“Good,” Smith murmurs, his voice a vibrating rumble in the distorting cloud of Levi’s head. “This hole is mine. Get up on your hands and knees. I’m not done.”
Levi moans deliriously. He breathes harshly, sucking in lungfuls of air, mouth a wet, warm pressure against Smith’s calf, and then gets up.
Sluggishly, Levi drags himself from Smith’s body to present himself on his hands and knees, as instructed. He feels, hears Smith rise, moving into position behind him. Then hands settle on his hips, traveling lightly over his outer thighs.
One big hand finds his groin, fondling his small cock, his shaven balls. He grips both in his palm and fingers, cradling his junk like he owns him. Levi is momentarily scared he’s going to squeeze, but he doesn’t. He just holds them in his gentle, stern fist while kissing down his asscheek.
“Spread yourself,” Smith instructs through the distorted filter of Levi’s intoxication. Levi lets his weight rest fully on his shoulders and face, reaching back with both hands to dutifully open his ass. Shame is pretty much nonexistent for him at this point, gone alongside the inexperience of this work.
Smith doesn’t tease—he leans right back into to begin lapping at his perineum and hole, working over the sensitive rim now swollen from his spanking, from the fingering, his persistent licking. Levi groans, a muffled sound into the bed. How the fuck could Smith expect him to do this for who knows how long?
Regardless of Smith’s expectations, Levi fulfills them; Smith eats out him out for another hour. Levi doesn’t come again, but he certainly gets hard, his cock a pulsating, fiery presence heightened by the aphrodisiac amplifying his nerves.
He’s on his knees for a while, but eventually Smith instructs for him to turn over. He has Levi hook his elbows over the undersides of his knees, laying on his back, curling his spine and sticking his ass out. His hands curl into Smith’s blonde hair when the man leans down to resume eating him out, burying his face into his presented ass, licking over his pink, puffy hole like he would die happy doing only this.
Levi can’t take it anymore. His asshole is getting sore, and his body is screaming for something more. He catches himself staring at Smith’s cock whenever it’s within view, so hungry for it he can’t focus on anything else.
Smith doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it—he focuses solely on eating Levi out, indulging in it, excessively so. Levi is still so out of it, his mind a fiery mess, the fog lingering over him heavily, dulling his patience. Eventually, his pride disappears, too. Desperation is overcoming him.
“Fuck me,” Levi hears himself moan, though it comes out much more pathetic than he intended—a poorly disguised sob. Smith had asked him to sit on his face again, and Levi cannot. He simply can’t. He’s so high, so unbearably eager to get fucked.
He collapses forward into the sheets, heaving for air, sweating. “I can’t do it anymore. Ah, shit, I-I need it. You fucking bastard. You knew this was gonna happen. Ah, please, please, give me your cock. Please!”
He begins rolling his hips into the rumpled sheets, his straining dick a swollen, leaking thing. He wants to fuck something so badly, or to get fucked himself. His ass feels so uncomfortably empty, yet his cock aches to bury into a hole, or a mouth, or anything. Smith is chuckling again, that fucking prick, and past the haze, Levi hears him say, “Good boy. You seem desperate for it now. Do you want me to fill you? You’re dying for it, aren’t you?”
That fucking pervert. He always does this whenever they get deep into it; talking filth. Levi sluggishly rises onto his hands and knees, throwing a glance over his shoulder. Levi reaches back to touch himself, rubbing over his hole, sensitive and overstimulated from the lengthy rimming session. He squirms back into it, gasping, and Smith seems to like the display—Levi hears him grunt in his throat.
“Yeah,” Levi moans, eyes clenching. Without realizing, he begins to drool onto the sheets, pushing three fingertips into his swollen hole. “I want you to f-fuckin’ fill me…. Fuck you for making me like this, you bastard…”
Saying nothing, Smith gets up from the bed. Levi watches the man retrieve the bottle of lube and a condom from the side table. Levi flips over onto his back, spreads his knees, feet digging into the bed, and begins stroking at himself, his other hand clutching at his balls.
Hungry, starving, he watches Smith open up the condom and roll it onto his shaft. Groaning, Levi watches closely, his hand shaky on his dripping cock, his pre-cum unending, wet and loud in the room. Smith turns to him, slicking himself up with a handful of lube. Levi thinks he sees him grin, but his vision is swimming. He can’t make sense of much.
“Can you get up again? I want to pick you up, L,” Smith says, stepping over to the edge of the bed. Levi’s stomach pulls at that—excitement.
He shakily climbs up onto his hands and knees—a difficult feat in itself considering his state—and Smith is there, squatting just enough to wrap his arms around him, pulling him up. Levi clumsily wraps his legs around Smith, clutching at his shoulders, wide-eyed and speechless. He’s easily hoisted up—but his equilibrium is fucked, and he’s scared he’s going to be dropped. Gasping, Levi clings to the bigger man, snapping, “Oh, fuck no. I’m too fuckin’ high for this shit. Put me down.”
“It’s alright, I got you,” Smith says softly, maneuvering Levi in his arms like he really weighs nothing, hooking his arms under his knees, arms braced around him. Levi gasps, digging his nails into his back, eyes wide and trained on the wall past Smith’s shoulder.
Smith doesn’t seem to be struggling to hold him up, not at all. He’s so strong. Levi feels a little woozy from that, beyond the effects of the drug.
“I won’t drop you,” Smith promises, “And if I do lose grip, you’re going right on the bed. You won’t get hurt.”
Levi nods into his shoulder, clinging to him tightly.
Pressed this close, Levi feels only his hot skin. He’s surrounded by the smell of his cologne, and his natural, masculine scent. Burrowing into him, Levi soaks it all in, his usual inhibitions slackened by his state. Smith adjusts Levi’s small body in his arms, angling him just right, and then lines up. Levi feels the wet, firm press of his cockhead to his hole, and his body lights up with fire.
Bearing down just as Smith arches his hips up makes for easy insertion—his thick cock slides right into him, spreading the sore, sensitive ring of his hole. Levi groans, digging his nails into tanned skin, mouth slack, pressed to Smith’s shoulder. Damn, whatever this fucking drug is, Levi has to get some of it. It really makes his muscles relax, like there’s no tension whatsoever. Smith can just push in and there’s no pain.
Without wait, Smith begins to drop him onto his cock. Levi’s ass meets his hips with a wet slap—Smith's balls are already dripping with lube, like the man had used too much, sticking to Levi with every thrust. It’s fucking dirty, and usually it would disgust Levi, but now it just makes him moan aloud, in disbelief by how easily he’s taking his dick balls deep. It’s piercing deep inside of him, filling him up so perfectly, stuffing him full when all he’s wanted this entire time was to get fucked hard. And it’s amazing.
“So fuckin’ good,” Levi hears himself sobbing, clutching at Smith so tightly his arms ache, tipping his head back while he’s bounced on the man’s dick, held up by his mere strength alone. “Fuck me, oh, fuck—fuck me, ah! Ah! Keep going! Ah, fuck!”
He hears Smith’s huffing breaths, feels the hot rush of his exhales, the way his body strains against his own. Levi is so out of it, so fucking out of it, he barely has the right mind to pay his client any attention. Usually, it’s about their pleasure, and his own survival. But right now, it’s all about how good he feels.
Levi cries out with every deep, rough thrust of Smith’s hips, his pelvis smacking soundly against his ass, balls striking against his tailbone. The fat length of his cock pounding so deep into him almost fucking hurts. His body seems too small for such a huge girth to fit inside, yet Smith makes it happen every time.
He’s letting the weight of Levi’s body guide the power of which they’re fucking, dropping him again and again against the curve of his hips while snapping up into it. Levi can hear himself losing it, his cries and moans filling the room alongside the crack of skin. It’s so intense. It’s too much.
Levi finally lifts his head, righting himself so he can look down between their bodies. Mouth slack and glassy eyes wide, he sees the way his smaller body is curled up, clutched tightly in Smith’s arms, legs hooked over his elbows as he’s used like a toy, worked up and down on his cock.
And it really feels like that. Smith using his hole, pounding up into it, grunting and huffing right by his ear—and while that sort of fucking pisses him off, feeling like a used rag, now it just makes him burn even more. He watches Smith’s thick cock pump in and out of him, his hole practically following the glide of his slick shaft. Levi realizes he’s drooling on himself, the oozing line of his saliva collecting in the rolls of his belly. He’s in absolute, utter bliss from how amazing it feels.
“Oh… ffffuckin’ shit,” Levi gasps, watching his own hard prick jostle around uselessly, dripping continuously with pre-cum. Even if it’s neglected, he really feels like he’s about to come again. An intensifying, bubbling feeling in his groin, a tightening in his balls, just from getting fucked like this.
He goes limp in Smith’s arms, head craning back, and moans wantonly, letting the man fuck him as hard as he wants, carrying him like he weighs fucking nothing. But then, suddenly, he’s lowered down onto the bed, and his entire world turns. Levi feels dizzy, gasping, looking around deliriously as he’s flipped onto his front, pushed flat onto his belly. It’s grounding, smothering his face into the sheets, clutching at them. The room isn’t warping anymore.
“Does it feel good, love?” he hears that deep, rumbling voice. A touch of hot hands on his thighs, pushing firmer, and firmer, until he slowly opens his legs. An overwhelming weight settles on top of him—actually crushing him to the bed. Levi groans, a wheezing exhale as air is forced out of his lungs.
He noticed Smith likes doing this. He likes emphasizing their size difference, how easily he can overpower him.
A hand is on his face then, gently gripping him by the jaw, turning his head so his cheek is to the bed. Eyes cracking open, he finds a swimming face gazing at him, those pools of blue bouncing between his own unfocused, hooded eyes. His hair is pet back in a slow, gentle stroke. The sensation of fingernails gingerly scratching over his scalp feels fucking heavenly.
Levi moans softly, sinking further into the bed, the weight of Smith pressing down on him. His eyes roll shut, his mouth slack. He begins to drool again. There’s a soothing chuckle by his ear, a vibration through his back.
“You’re so high,” the man whispers, but his voice is oddly distant, like he’s speaking through multiple walls. He sounds happy. “So precious. I could do whatever I wanted to you and you would barely remember it come morning. I could strangle you right now, and you would be powerless to stop it. I could end your life, if I chose to. But I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to see tears on your face because I’m making you feel so good. Let me see you cry, darling.”
Levi groans, disoriented, brow furrowed.
“Stop sayin’ stupid shit, you fuckin’ freak,” he slurs, voice tight from the strain. “Fuck me, goddamnit…”
Warm lips press to his forehead. The feeling of Smith’s huffing breaths carding through his air is actually soothing. Levi closes his eyes. Smith’s chest is pushing against his back with every inhale.
This is… intimate, how closely pressed they are. It’s nice, grounding. Levi soaks it in. Then he feels the other man shift on top of him.
Keeping his full weight on Levi, Smith guides his cock between his asscheeks and pushes back in, sinking in fully until their bodies are truly flush together. Levi lurches, whining sharply into the covers as he’s suddenly penetrated deeply, the angle different, more intense. It’s pressing directly against his prostate, a shock of sensation he wasn’t prepared for. Smith pets back his sweaty bangs, shushing him before he whispers, “It’s alright. You’re okay. Breathe.”
He simply sits inside of Levi, his bigger thighs smothering his to the bed, his balls flush to his perineum, keeping him full with his cock as he waits for Levi to regather himself. But Levi does no such thing. He squirms on his front, legs bending at the knee, feet gliding along Smith’s calves as he gasps out, “You’re so fuckin’ big—ah, fuck—!”
It’s so much worse when he’s just sitting in him like this, but thankfully, he starts to move. With his face pressed into Levi’s hair, Smith lets his hips drop down against him in resounding smacks, the weight of his body making every thrust very deep, powerful, forceful. It’s borderline painful.
Crushed under Smith’s weight as he is, Levi can barely even enjoy it. It’s difficult to breathe, and he’s struggling to focus at all. He’s gasping for air after just a minute of it, scrabbling at the covers.
Suddenly, Smith gets off him, and turns him over. Before Levi can even process what’s being done to him, Smith is gathering his legs in his hands, forcing his body up so he’s bent nearly in half, his knees to his shoulders. Levi is flexible, and familiar with being treated like this, so it doesn’t come as a shock. It’s only a little alarming when he’s this intoxicated.
Smith has to guide his arms, instructing him to wrap them around his legs like he hasn’t done this countless times before. Levi can barely hold his head up, looking at the man dazedly, brow furrowed and mouth slack. But then he realizes he’s been arranged on top of the pillows, back curled with his pelvis angled so his ass is up, and—it’s like the position when Smith ate him out.
Realizing this, Levi drops his head back down against the bed and watches as the other man shifts closer on his knees, pressing his hands to the backs of Levi’s thighs, fingers slick with lube. Looking up at him, Levi still can’t see his face that clearly. But he can tell he’s smiling, staring down at him.
Smith brings a hand down, stroking it along Levi’s ass, and spanks him against his fucked hole. Levi twitches, grunting, and his asshole throbs pleasantly. His cock is still painfully hard and leaking against his belly, trapped against him now, ignored.
Levi can barely focus on anything. He just goes limp, accepting, letting the other man do whatever he wants.
Slotting up close to him, Smith angles his cock and pushes back into his ass, balls deep in one quick snap of his hips. Levi gasps harshly, eyes flashing wider, only for them to roll shut again.
For an endless amount of time, Smith fucks him. It seems unending, ten minutes, a half hour, an hour, Levi doesn’t know—Smith thrusts away, pounding into him over and over, murmuring filthy things to him, petting back his hair, squeezing his trembling thighs, touching his face. Levi can barely hear himself moaning, his filter gone, totally. High-pitched whimpers, elongated, carrying moans, gasps for air, shuddering breaths—all from him.
It must be because it feels so inexplicably good. His body is still so unbearably warm, sensitive, receptive—even his asshole is still tingling, which heightens the feeling of being fucked to such an intense degree.
Levi is incoherent.
Beyond his wobbling vision, Levi watches the blurry image of Smith over him, the way he cranes his head back, his chest heaving, torso flexing, his hands extended, pressed to his body in someplace. It’s hypnotizing in a way.
Suddenly, that distorted face comes closer, and then Levi is being kissed while the man continues fucking him fast and hard. It's suffocating. Levi can barely breathe, a whine rising out of him. Smith doesn't seem to take heed of his obvious discomfort. He kisses Levi deeply, pushing his tongue into his mouth, sucking at his bottom lip, biting it. It’s too much. But Levi has no fight, not enough strength to really push him away or argue it. He weakly responds, slowly, clumsily kissing back. He gasps harshly for air in-between the overlapping of their mouths, his panting hot and fast between them. He whines again, dazed.
Finally, Smith breaks away. Cracking his eyes open, heaving for air, Levi is a little startled to find how close the other man's face is to his. He's just staring at him, closely. Watching him, observing him as he says something to him, but Levi can't even understand it in his drugged state of mind. He just moans in reply, head falling back limply. He thinks he hears a low laugh, feels a hot hand run up over his heaving chest to curl gently around his throat, but he's not certain.
At some point during the endless fucking, Levi's belly starts heating up and heating up, his balls tightening, his cock a burning brand between his thighs, twitching and leaking pre-cum. It must be the position. At some point, Smith adjusted their bodies, and now every thrust back in is fucking euphoric. He's pounding away at his prostate, and it only takes a minute of the repetitive stimulation before Levi is tossing his head back with a scream, his body arching away from the brutal thrusting.
But Smith pulls him back, and keeps going, his powerful hips smacking over and over against Levi's inner thighs despite the man's weak struggling. It's all so overwhelming, coming together to create this mind-blowing sensation, an unbelievable ecstasy that renders him completely silent. He ends up spraying shot after shot of cum onto the sheets, but he's so far from aware, so incoherent, he may as well not be in his own body anymore.
He thinks he hears himself sobbing.
Even after Levi's explosive orgasm begins to die down, the moment passing, Smith snaps into him violently without reprieve, so brutally it begins to hurt. Levi can’t help but grimace, his body jostled against the bed, hands limply pressing to Smith’s thrusting hips in a silent plea. But he doesn’t slow down, he doesn’t stop.
Smith is staring at his face so intently it actually weirds Levi out. Then, suddenly, Smith cranes his head back and begins moaning aloud, a deep sound in his chest. His entire body is flexing, shaking, dripping with sweat. Levi blinks up at the swimming image of this bigger man, heaving and gasping above him, and realizes he's coming, too.
It’s only after it’s all done with—Smith pulling out, disposing of the condom, guiding Levi under the sheets, petting his hair and wishing him a goodnight, leaving even more money on the side table—that Levi realizes there’s tears drying on his face, and he’s not quite sure why.
It all happened so fast. He lost track of time, totally. He even stopped understanding words. It’s scary what that drug does to him.
He wants to get up and clean himself, to fix the sheets, but he’s so utterly exhausted, his head still spinning, vision stubbornly blurry, distorting—all he can do is close his eyes and promptly pass out.