Work Text:
Copia lets out a long sigh as he closes the door to his suite. Another long day.
Being Papa is everything he could’ve hoped and dreamed but he didn’t realize the amount of work that came with it. The endless amount of paperwork as Cardinal was nothing compared to now.
To make it worse, he barely has time for himself.
Today though, he made time. He needs time to sit, relax, and rejuvenate. He hasn’t even gotten to pleasure himself and his cock is aching.
As the shower warms up, he’s quick to shed his clothes. Normally he takes care of them, hanging them up so they don’t become wrinkled. However, as his mind has become focused on finding relief, keeping his clothes neat is the last thing on his mind.
Steam fills the room as he steps through the shower door.
For a while he lets the hot water wash over him, calming him. He stands facing the stream as it pelts his face, slowly washing his papa paint off. He’ll have to scrub it all off later but it’ll get a bit of it off.
It doesn’t take long for gray streaks to start running down his body. His hand follows them, starting at his neck and moving down his chest and stomach. A soft moan falls from his lips as his fingers dance along his inner thigh.
Fuck, he loves it.
The sensation it gives him goes straight to his cock. He could probably cum from touching his thighs alone. They’re sensitive and any attention he or someone else gives them, makes his brain melt and sends shivers up his spine.
It drives him wild.
His hand moves up and down them before he finally gives in and takes his cock into his hand. As it moves up and down his length he can’t help but to whimper.
It’s been so long since he’s gotten to pleasure himself. All he has time for when he gets to his room is to eat and sleep. He hasn’t even had time to read.
Slowly, his hand pumps his cock. Finally some relief and it has his head spinning. He’s so hard and sensitive.
His head tips back as he moans loudly. However, it quickly turns into a painful groan as he forces himself to let go.
He wants to savor this. All this time not being able to pleasure himself, he doesn’t want to cum so quickly. Who knows when he’ll be able to again. He wants a good release that’ll leave him shaking, even when he gets up in the morning.
His attention turns to getting cleaned up. He scrubs the paint off his face before washing his hair.
In a massaging manner, he works his body wash against his skin. His hips buck slightly as he cleans around his dick and balls. He waits to actually clean them till he’s finished with the rest of his body.
His cock throbs as he takes it back in his hand.
The tile is cool against his back as he leans against and adjusts the shower head to stay on him.
“Cazzo” he mumbles to himself as he pumps his cock again. “This feels so good” he whines, his other hand dragging fingers along his thigh.
His breathing has quickened as he decides to add his other hand.
“Oh fuck, yes!” he moans, thrusting into them. With the water, his cock glides effortlessly between his fingers and palms.
As he thrusts forward, his hands slide down his length till they meet his base. Then the slide back up as he pulls back out, creating the perfect amount of friction against his cock. He has a nice rhythm going and It doesn’t take long for him to feel his release approaching.
He doesn’t want to stop but he does.
He leans back against the wall as a painful wave washes over him. His eyes squeeze shut as he keeps his hands anywhere but between his legs. One runs through his hair as he pants heavily.
“Oh cazzo” he breathes, trying to catch his breath.
Once the wave washes over him he turns off the shower and dries off.
He wraps the towel around his waist as he looks at himself in the mirror. His fingers dab a washcloth against his skin, cleaning off the remaining paint from his mustache and sideburns. As he does, he periodically grinds his hips against the edge of the counter, desperate for any sort of friction.
Holding off is proving to be harder than he thought. He’s desperate to cum but not willing to give in, yet.
“Fuck” he whimpers dropping the towel, one thrust against the counter feeling particularly good.
He ends up calling it good after that. He can finish cleaning it up in the morning. He’s got most of it anyways.
Finally, he picks up his clothes and hangs them up before finding clothes to put on. The towel around his waist drops to the floor, letting his cock hang heavy between his legs. He ignores his urges as he slips into his boxers followed by sweatpants and a shirt.
The friction from walking to the kitchen only makes things worse.
He’s always been very sensitive but being as hard as he is, it’s getting extremely hard to ignore. Every step sends a shiver up his spine, his cock reminding him of how horny he is. His thighs have already started to become sticky from how much he’s leaking.
Again he finds himself grinding against the counter, just to get the tiniest bit of relief, only to realize it makes it worse.
“Come on, you can wait” he mumbles angrily to himself as he cooks himself dinner. From then on he catches himself.
As he eats, the urge returns and he’s struggling to fight it off.
“Finish eating, then you can touch” he tells himself as he hastily shovels his food into his mouth. The last bite is barely in his mouth before he’s grabbing himself through his pants.
“Merda” he sighs as he slumps in his chair. Fingers draw designs on his inner thigh as he strokes himself through the fabric.
“Oh Satan, this feels Devine” he moans, moving his hand a bit quicker. His other hand comes up to cup his balls as he lets go of himself.
Slowly, he drags his finger up and down his length before grabbing it again. He holds himself just below his tip as he pulls the fabric tight against it.
A chuckle falls from his lips as his other hand comes up to play with his tip. Within seconds the fabric becomes damp with his precum. When he pulls his finger away, a small string follows with it.
He wipes it off on his pants before he forces himself to stop again. He balls his pants in his fist as he moans.
“Ooo cazzo” he breathes as his heel shakes against the floor.
When he’s caught his breath, he focuses on cleaning up dinner. He makes sure not to hump the counter again but he’s gotta stop from cleaning a few times. When he’s done, he wastes no time crawling into bed.
It’s become dark outside now and the only light is coming from the one on his bedside table. He grabs his book to read, hoping to get in a few chapters.
As he finishes the first one, the pain between his legs has become excruciating. His dick throbs with a very noticeable wet stain on the crotch of his pants. He tries to power through the next chapter, struggling to remember a single word and constantly having to re-read a sentence.
Eventually he gives up and throws his book on the nightstand. His hands rub his face as he groans loudly.
“Cazzo I can’t wait any longer” he rushes under his breath as he quickly takes off his shirt.
His pants follow and he realizes how aroused he actually is. The whole crotch of his underwear is soaked from his precum.
As he discards them, his hand comes up to his throat. He squeezes it slightly as his hips hump the air.
“Oh cazzo, how I want you on my cock” he whines before letting go of his throat. It trails down his body and runs across his hip bone.
Normally, his cock is a soft pink. However, it’s turned a dark red from how swollen and desperate he is.
“Touch me, please” he cries, scraping his nails across his skin. He doesn’t listen to his own pleas as his hand moves up and down his body.
“I need it, please!” he moans before finally taking himself into his hand. “Oh fuck!” He wastes no time as his hand moves quickly up and down.
It moves along the entirety of his length. Every pump sends waves of pleasure throughout his body. Loud moans fill his bedroom, mixing with the wet sounds of his hand movement.
Too horny for his own good.
“Oh satanas, ci si sente così bene” he whines before slowing his pace.
His other hand moves back up his body till he finds his nipple. It’s stiff as he pinches and rolls it between his fingers. His hips buck and he lets go of himself.
His chest rises up and down quickly as he tries to slow his breath. Still not wanting to cum, yet. He wants to savor this but he knows he won’t be able to stop again.
When he’s caught his breath he repositions his legs so his knees are hiked in the air. His cock jump’s eagerly, begging for his attention. Again he rakes his fingers down his thighs, leaving long red marks behind. Then his hands smooth over them before caressing his inner thighs.
“Take me, oh Satan. Just fuck me” he begs softly.
He starts slower this time. One hand massages his balls as the other works his cock. They feel heavy and full from weeks of neglecting himself. He’s become so desperate and he realizes he shouldn’t have put this off for so long.
What was he thinking? All work and no play.
Soon both of his hands are moving up and down his length until his hips jerk into them. He moans as he starts rolling his hips into his hand, letting them do the work. His cock glides effortlessly as his hands constantly adjust the pressure around him.
“Si, proprio così!”
It doesn’t take long for a fog to creep into his brain, his orgasm quickly approaching. He’s getting lost in his own pleasure, working himself to his release.
When his hips start to become erratic he goes back to one hand. It moves quickly, bringing him to the edge. Precum is pouring out of his tip as his other hand grabs the sheets.
“Sto per venire!” He cries out as his heels press into his bed. His hips thrust upward, lifting his ass off the bed. Thick white ropes splatter across his body, pooling on his skin. Loud moans and cries escape his mouth, his orgasm crashing over his body.
Spasms overtake his hips as his hand tries to continue its motion, with little luck. His dick throbs and twitches, even when he starts to come down.
“Ahhh” he sighs deeply, his voice shaky.
Slowly, his hand slides up his length. It’s wrapped tightly around it as he tries to make sure he’s empty. A little trickle of cum seeps out of his slit and runs over his hand before he lets go of himself.
His legs finally give out and he sinks into his bed, exhausted.
Gently, his hand moves across his skin as he calms himself.
He should’ve waited to shower. He’s covered in his own cum, sweat, and he’s made a mess of his sheets. Should’ve at least thought to grab a towel. Oh well. It was a much needed orgasm and felt like pure delight.
Eventually his hand makes its way to the cum on his chest. It’s sticky and thick as he plays with it. Then he’s bringing his fingers to his lips to lick them clean.
After a while, he slowly makes his way to get up. His legs are wobbly as he goes to shower again. He scrubs himself down before changing his sheets.
He hasn’t slept that good in weeks.