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It’s stupid, and he knows he’s playing fire doing this. Breezehome isn’t too far, and he could slip inside with no one aware of his transgression, but the need is far too great for him to think clearly. So, the Imperial finds himself in a hidden corner, or as one can find in the city itself, pants to his heels, and his hand slowly circling his cock. His bottom lip taking the brunt of his teeth digging into the skin trying to muffle any sound threatening to escape his chest. And his mind half on his fantasy, and the other half blaming the guards for being the center of it all.
Some parts of him shouldn’t blame them, after all, he’s always had that desire focused on authority figures. The amount of times he found himself on his back, an Imperial guard’s cock sliding in and out of his abused hole is far too many times to properly count. So, it’s no wonder he finds himself touching his cock at the thought of the Nordic guards. There’s something about them that the Imperial can’t put his finger on. A deep desire to be on his knees taking any cock they put in his mouth and begging for more when they’ve finished. To hear the soft laughter from the guards as they tease him for being such a whore. An aborted groan springs from his chest at the thought. In time for him to see the flicker of a torch nearby, stilling his movements for the briefest of seconds, a flush creeping up his skin.
Oh, no.
He considers quickly pulling his pants back up, and hoping for a brief, if not embarrassing, encounter with the guard. But it’s too late to do anything, in those few seconds, the guard has stepped closer, and the light shines brightly on Imperial, pants down, and cock out on a display for all to see. His body stills tightly as he and the guard stare each other down.
“I…” he manages to get out, mind scrambling to find some excuse, a poor one at that, to explain. But the guard holds his hand up, and his breath catches in his chest. Mouth parted, and cock still aching, the Imperial can feel the other man’s gaze taking in every inch of exposed skin until it finally centers on his weeping cock. The flush deepens and he wonders what’ll happen next.
The guard glances around before his voice floats over to the Imperial. “Stay there,” the man growls, and a weak whine slips from the Imperial’s chest. Biting his bottom lip harder, he watches the guard take a few steps past him, planting the torch in a, conveniently, empty torch sconce. Then, the steps back to him seem to echo in his ears and chest as the guard slides next to him. “What a sight you make, Dragonborn,” the guard says quietly. “Flushed, touching yourself, in public no less like some common whore.”
Moaning, the Dragonborn nods weakly, unable to defend himself. After all, how could he when the evidence in plain sight. His cock jumps in his hand, and he squeezes it once, a movement that hasn’t escaped the guard’s notice.
“Who’d thought the Dragonborn gets off like this?” the guard muses, voice honey to his ears. His ragged breathing sounds louder in the dark. The guard steps closer, eyes planted to the sight of his hand around his cock. “Keep going slowly and tell me what has you touching yourself. What has you palming your cock in the middle of the city in the dark?”
Another moan slips from the Dragonborn’s mouth, and he slowly starts moving his hand again. “You… you guards,” he squeaks out, cheeks redder than any piece of red cloth nearby. “So… ah,” he stammers through a shudder of pleasure, “strong, so authoritarian.” The guard laughs, sending shivers down the Dragonborn’s spine.
“Do you enjoy being bossed around, Dragonborn?”
“Yes!” he chokes out on another slow pump of his own hand. “So much. I was often on my back for the Imperial guards because of it!” The confession slips out of its own violation, unable to stop having a guard in front of him, demanding him to air all his secrets to the other man. Another honey-filled laugh rings in his ears, and the Dragonborn can’t stop parting his mouth in a soft moan.
“Who’d thought the Dragonborn was a whore,” the guard hissed, the warmth of his breath tickling the Imperial’s skin, sending a shudder down his body. “Palming himself hoping he’ll get caught by one of us.” The guard tugs his helmet up just enough for the other man to see the wicked smile gracing his face. The Dragonborn’s heart races, want filling him with the need to kiss the guard.
“Please… please let me…” he panted, his eyes locked on the plush lips before him, another needy whine escaping. The smile broadens before the guard is tugging him roughly into a heated kiss. The Imperial’s eyes nearly roll back into his head as their lips meet, and he eagerly submits to the guard. His back hits the stone wall, the guard pushing against his body, keeping him trapped against the wall. He can’t stop the needy whines that leave his when they break for air.
“So needy,” the guard rumbles. His voice sending liquid fire down the Imperial’s veins. “I bet the Imperial guards loved you, didn’t they?” He nods furiously, hand still slowly pumping his cock. The guard barks out a laugh. “And you loved it too, didn’t you?” Another nod that makes the guard’s laugh deepen, before the guard kicks his legs open, slotting himself closer to the Dragonborn. He takes the Dragonborn’s hand off his aching cock, and replaces it with his own, a tight grip. The Dragonborn’s head falls back, his mouth parted, arms dropped to his side.
Slowly, the guard starts to pump his cock with a hum. Little whimpers are breaking free from the Imperial’s chest, and he’s twitching under the guard’s touch. There’s another laugh, and the guard starts to speed up. “Look at you,” he mumbles, something akin to awe in his voice. “So eager, so needy. Makes me want to keep you,” he hisses, thumb teasingly dragging across the tip of the Imperial’s cock, another whine breaking free. “The Dragon Crisis over, could keep you in the guard house, tied up to be used by the whole guard. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Panting, the Dragonborn nods quickly, his release slowly creeping through his body. He was close, and the guard knew it. “Go on, Dragonborn, tell me you want it, and you can cum.”
Letting his head fall forward, he whined out, “I want it! I want to be the guards’ kept boy!” With a grin, the guard sped up his pace until the Dragon was cumming with a soft sob. His seed comes out in thick white stripes coating both their armor and the guard’s hand. Body trembling, the Imperial finds himself pressed closer to the guard, the man’s hand rubbing the back of his neck softly.
“Good boy,” the guard purrs. They stand like that for a few minutes until the guard helps pull his pants up, the Dragonborn’s head planted against the guard’s shoulder struggling to regain his breath. “Good boy indeed,” the other man purrs, before the two separate. The Dragonborn can feel his legs tremble as he slowly stands on his own, small little gasps still coming from his mouth. A free hand is rubbing his cheek gently, and the Dragonborn leans into the touch with a small whine. “Once my shift is over, I think I shall head over to Breezehome, in hopes of finding my good boy ready for me,” the guard says, timid hope curling the words of his sentence.
“Yes, by the Eight, yes,” he replies in a choked voice. “I’ll be ready, I promise.”
“Good,” he purrs before walking off, leaving the Dragonborn on still shaky legs, and a low heat growing in his stomach on the way to Breezehome.