I'm a realist / I'm a romantic (arcadian_dream) wrote in pervy_werewolf, @ 2011-05-02 15:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | #lmom 2011, author: arcadian_dream, kink: dirty talk, kink: spanking, kink: wanking (solo or mutual), remus/sirius |
LMOM 2011 #1 - Over Breakfast
Title: Over Breakfast
Author/Artist: arcadian_dream/a_shadow_there (LJ)
Rating: R
Pairing: Remus/Sirius
Kink(s): dirty talk, masturbation, references to spanking, swearing.
Challenge: Lusty Month of May 2011
Word count: 566
Summary: Sirius has a suggestion.
"I hear you're a professor, now," Sirius says. He looks up from the table where he is pushing his scrambled eggs around the breakfast plate with his fork, and directs his attention to Remus.
"Was," Remus corrects. He sighs; shakes his newspaper out and folds it over before setting it down. "I was a professor. But we know how that turned out."
"Right," Sirius says, nodding. "Sorry."
Remus shrugs. "Don't worry about it," he says.
Sirius stops fiddling with his fork. He places it down on the table. "I do though. Worry. I was thinking ..."
"What?"
"I was thinking maybe ... maybe you'd like to punish me."
"Punish you?"
Sirius nods. "Yeah. For fucking things up. Maybe you'd like to –"
"What?" Remus interjects. "Maybe I'd like to what, Padfoot?"
"I don't know, maybe ... give me a bit of a smack, or something. A spanking."
Remus arches his brow. "A spanking?"
"Yeah. Maybe you come around here. Maybe you push me down against the table and give me a good whack on the bum. And then do it again. Maybe. If you like."
"Really?"
"Sure. Why not, Moony?"
"Well," Remus says, "maybe I do come over there." He pushes his chair back, but does not get to his feet. "Say I do. I come over there and hoist you up onto your feet. I bend you over. Press my hand to the back of your neck and your face hard against the table."
"Yeah?" Sirius asks. He licks his lips and leans forward expectantly.
Remus continues: "You're bent over. With one hand holding you still, I use the other one to yank your trousers down. Your pants –"
" – Yes."
"I run my hand over your arse. I give it a squeeze."
"I push back against you; your hand," Sirius interrupts. He shifts awkwardly in his seat, and then leans back. A hand disappears behind the table, between his legs. The sound of rustling fabric is heard and he lets out a groan.
"I push back against your hand," he repeats, closing his eyes. "I can feel my cock twitch. I want it. I want you Moony. I want to feel your hand against my bare skin."
Remus watches Sirius. His mouth feels dry; he swallows. "I spit into my palm," Remus says, his voice hoarse.
"Yes."
"I raise my hand –"
"Yes."
"I bring it down hard –"
"Yes," Sirius says, "hard. Hard."
"- and fast; again."
"- and again."
"-and again."
"Yesss."
Remus pauses: he watches Sirius across the table. His legs are splayed and he is rubbing his cock through his trousers; writhing in his chair, against his hand.
"And the sound of it," Remus whispers as he stands, and rounds the table; "the sound of it; the smack cracking through the air."
"And the sting," Sirius adds, "Merlin, it stings. But it feels so good. You feel so good, Moony. So. Fucking. Good."
Remus exhales a deep, shuddering breath as he listens to Sirius speak. He stands beside him now; his own cock hard and aching for release. He runs a hand gently over the tented fabric. He lifts the other to Sirius' cheek, hot and flushed, and cups his jaw. He tilts Sirius' head upward, facing him. Sirius opens his eyes. Confronted with the sight of Remus' hard-on, his breath catches in his throat.
"Fuck, Moony," he mouths. "Fuck."