majorbonerkiller | FISSIONMAILED: Apartment complex

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FISSIONMAILED: Apartment complex

Well Ivan certainly didn't remember leaving the door to his apartment wide open, just beckoning squatters to come shit on his carpet--or even worse, eat his food.

Not that they weren't all squatters here anyway. Ivan crouched down near the door frame, pulling out his tranquilizer gun. He peered over the threshold, and took a chance, hoping his dog was still here--and still alive.

"Galina! Here girl!"

When he heard the familiar patter and panting he sighed in relief, ruffling her ears when she was close enough, "Good girl." Curse himself for smiling at a time like this.

Slightly more confident now with his canine comrade, Ivan entered the dark apartment, keeping his footsteps quiet and his tranquilizer at the ready.

And he almost immediately tripped over his own dirty laundry, screaming in the process of mid-falling terror. Luckily his amazing acrobatic skills (catching himself on the dresser) came to the rescue.

Moving forward towards the center of the room Ivan could hear--breathing. He baited his breath, trying to hold back any instincts to just start shooting up the place. He was fueled by a sort of cocktail of terror and anger--how dare somebody come waltzing into his apartment thinking they own the goddamn place?!

He padded closer, towards the sounds of life--they must be on the couch, since he just knocked his knee on the coffee table and had to hiss in silent agony a moment before going on.

Finally steadying himself he located the perpetrator's head after several seconds (a whole minute of squinting) and pressed the muzzle of his gun against it, "Get up!"

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"So intense." Volgin was pulling up on the bottom of his sweater, peeling it away over his head to reveal the tight musculature the black suit was hugging, leaving very little to the imagination. Never mind what Ivan grabbed at earlier, concerning his abdomen... "Too easy to forget about my true nature, Vanya, yes?"

Between two fingers, he might have hung the sweater over Raikov's head, and released. His gloves were following suit, casually pulled away and dropped at his feet.

"Too easy...," he mimicked, tossing the sweater to the floor.

"Now hurry up and get out of that stupid suit so you can fuck me," Ivan smile, but his voice was demanding.

"Just what I wanted to hear." Volgin fiddled with the suit, digging his fingers underneath a hidden flap in the black shine, pulling down what amounted to a very insulated zipper. Pulling out his arms from the sleeves, the rest of the suit peeled down to his thighs. "You haven't changed since I left."

(He was debating about undressing completely; a quickie or...?)

Either way he felt, Raikov finally was allowed to behold that slightly upwardly curved erection in all its thick glory. Proportionate to him, an assfull to others, an object of worship for his Raikov.

Well, the one at the Academy at least. This one was curious case in need of... discipline.

Ivan's eyes glowed with interest as Volgin began removing the suit. When it was finally disposed of his eyes feasted on the sight of a hard cock--and it was about damn time.

There was no hesitance as he reached out to grab it, squeezing the base in his hand and looking up at Volgin expectantly with a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

They made eye contact.

"Do I even need to tell you what to do?"

The answer was made quite clear when Ivan got down onto his knees, still gripping the base in one hand as he pressed his lips to the head.

"Mm...," his spare hand dipped between Volgin's legs to tease his balls, mimicking the teasing of his tongue pressed against the slit.

The beast rolled off a contented growl from deep within his chest as Raikov worked. Skilled as he would expect from a lover. A large hand was soon enough caressing his soft head with the backs of his fingers.

Volgin had a hard time being tender, but he could manage with the illusion of having some semblance of it when he wanted to.

A low chuckle. His voice was growing harsh and throaty in the throes of his building lust: "Good boy. Very good boy."

Ivan pulled back, Volgin leaving him with a wet pop. He laughed a little, licking some saliva from the side of his mouth, "Only the best for you, Zhenya."

He went back down again, taking Volgin in slowly until the head hit the back of his throat. Unlike last time though he didn't gag. He held there a moment, lips wrapped tightly around Volgin's cock--the thought of what he must look like freeze-framed in his head for later reference. Soft lips around a hard cock pressing eagerly into his mouth--Ivan's hand snaked downwards to try and stroke himself back to hardness.

"Mmhehe...," came the small, elated but perverse sound as he pulled back, tongue running along the underside of the dick. Thin fingers briefly came up to brush the hair behind his ears before he started to deepthroat Volgin.

Edited 2011-01-03 18:01 (UTC)

The best, you say...? That earned Ivan a quirked brow.

But, Volgin, aside from his own rapture, remained amused: The younger man just came, and yet there he was, giggling like an eager banshee, trying to pull himself back to arousal and erection. Not even in his youth he could do that, unless he took as long as possible in pleasing him until he could again.

Oops. Everything for the giant to gain, either way.

"But you wanted it that badly, Ivan. I obliged." Volgin pressed a palm against the wall, soon face-fucking Raikov with his other hand, now tightly clutching into his white scalp. It was getting difficult to hold his building charge in.

He started to fiddle, normally talented in his means of trying to get his boots off while receiving a skilled blowjob that was running along the lines of "mind-blowing", but these were jackboots trying to come off. Not going to happen.

"Ivan." It hurt, in his painfully throbbing arousal burning at every nerve along his dick for more, to pull Raikov away. "A minute.

"For your sake."

Edited 2011-01-03 18:30 (UTC)

At any rate, even as Ivan worked himself he seemed to be getting nowhere, eventually stopping. Hair tousled and mused by Volgin's tight grip in it; strands still stuck out of place once he let go and Ivan simply offered a lecherous smile.

"Already...?" He teased, running a finger up Volgin's cock before settling back against the wall with a heavy sigh. He worked his jaw a bit, stretching the kinks out of it.

"You're going to need to do that," Volgin warned offhandedly, his spit-slicked, engorged cock bouncing as leaned over and, with one hand for balance, went to work unlacing himself. The suit had to come off, and Raikov was not going to be making a perfect circuit, starting with his mouth, if he could help it.

He found he had to very awkwardly sit himself down to fully slide the boots off and the rest of his clothing with it. His erection was sagging. Concern and all the worst scenarios playing out in one's head was effective when it came to cock-softening.

Volgin was pretty impressive in his nudity, with his network of scars marring his entire body, the dark patterning of some asymmetrical predator. He had faded numbers stamped along his right ankle, a smaller hint to the larger denotation of his status as an experiment staining his back.

(One of Stalin's dirty secrets, hidden under Moscow in her white belly, within a womb of wiring as her humming heart. No need for coal or fuel to power her... Hff!)

He shook his head, shaking those ... memories away. He caught his gaze on his ankle.

Grunt.

Taking the discarded suit, it was placed on the floor, Volgin mumbling as he nudged Ivan's legs as a hint, "Ivan... Ivan, sit on this. Don't touch anything else but me and that, alright?"

Ivan looked down at the suit which reminded him of some sort of headless skinned rug. Minus the fur. Obediently he scooted onto it, looking up at Volgin's cock as if it were food in a famine.

"What about when you fuck me?"

Volgin could have shuffled his hips and directed Raikov's head at the whim of where his glans went. He almost did.

Of course he noticed, Raikov.

"You could live in that suit if you needed to, Ivan." He rose back to his feet again. "If you are too big for that, I will wonder what's wrong. Your hands and knees on the rubber. All times. No contact with the floor because it will hurt. Not how you like it, either, Vanya.

"Understood?"

However, Volgin teasingly stepped away, the massive cock with it. It felt good to let his body naturally want to be a live wire, like taking a good shit after holding it in for so long really, but sometimes, as he was aware, that Raikov needed reminding of what exactly it was that he was fucking. He better be positioned proper.

Another look down at the suit and Ivan nodded, scooting over onto his hands and knees; ass in the air and pointed at Volgin.

He wiggled his behind. "Come on~."

Volgin cocked a curious brow at the pale ass beckoning for his attentions. Carefully checking Raikov's contact with the floor and that he was not making any whatsoever, the giant made his confident stride over to his partner with his hand working himself to hardness again.

Raikov felt the large hand on his ass, his other gripping himself as he positioned and probed for the opening. When he reached his mark, the cockhead pressed.

"Relax," was all Volgin offered with a small moment, before he ventured into a place his penile portions were very intimately familiar with.

Ivan held back an excited noise, pushing his ass back against Volgin's large hand and cockhead. "Mmmhh..."

He hardly needed to be told to relax, only uttering a small strangled moan and biting down on his lower lip as Volgin entered him.

"Oohhh...yes..."

Both hands were clutching at Ivan's backside, his eyes meanwhile trailing down along the impromptu animal rug that his suit made and body contact with only it.

Seemed safe.

"The electricity is on." Grunt. Volgin could not press in too deep either; electrical stimulation of the prostate very much dictated when Raikov would come. Certainly not now, given that he was still needing time to get it back up anyway. The younger man could feel the quick thrusts his partner made as he settled on a rhythm that pleased him.

"Don't. Touch. Anything."

"Mmmhh...Yevgeny...," he muttered, hanging his head and letting that silky blonde hair cover his eyes. Fingers dug into the suit's material, curling it under his fists.

"I know..."

It wasn't how Volgin's electricity usually felt--a short, sudden burst accompanied by blinding light and pain. This was different; his whole body subtly vibrating from the muted electricity coursing through him and then back out Yevgeny.

When combined with those thrusts--heaven. Heaven, heaven, heaven. If only he'd go deeper--press inside him until he was full and still aching for more.

Ivan opened his eyes briefly and made sure he wasn't about to slip off the suit.

Yevgeny was carefully checking Ivan's hands and knees as well, or as much as his vantage point would allow. The old bastard would only be able to fully relax until he was suited up completely again and somewhere grounded.

Thus was his standard of mode of sustaining continued human contact until he died (again).

It was just easier to kill them.

Grunt. Stop that. Think on that later. What about that hot tightness surrounding you? Think about that. Make him squeal and beg. Ah...

Raikov always appreciated an element of danger, didn't he...?

"Mmmm...ahh, Zhenya," Ivan breathed in between thrusts. His cock still not fully recovered from his earlier orgasm, but each passing minute Ivan could feel it rise just a little more to the occasion.

"H-harder...hff. I know you," a gasp, "can do better than that."

"Vanya," he lowly purred. "Vanya..."

Raikov's massive beast of a man for a partner was letting a slow, smug sneer spread along his face. Ivan could not see his glinting eyes, the long, striping scars accenting his predatory nature all the more. But, he could still hear, and his tone had darkened:

"You're mistaking my caution for meekness."

Ivan laughed at that, if only for a split second before another moan caught in his throat.

"Mmhhm...I'm hard again..."

"Oh?"

Volgin had to reach down, and under, to feel. Grip. Maybe tease it a little more, just to make sure. Ivan could feel the looming presence of his partner's leaning and shuffling, a slight weight perhaps. The soft hand was warm and deceptively gentle at first, before harshly clutching at the base and groping along the length to his balls with all the usual hints of his favor towards sheer brutality.

A fingertip teased that little scrotum with a slight, simple motion.

Ivan was a lovely creature. He was above being shredded and beaten, as the rest deserved.

"Just making sure," he breathily panted in the direction of that ear obscured by that head of pure white hair.

Ivan continued to stiffen under Volgin's touch, hips pressing forward to beg for attention from that warm hand.

"Keep that up...and I'll come early," he warned in a breath, eyes closed and brows concentrated on the overload of sensations.

A growl. "You're better off saving it.

"I'm not going to stop fucking you if you blow it, my dear." Chuckle. He recovered his rhythm, careful to avoid electrically stimulating the prostate despite insulation (among the usual of not cooking his partner with a single slip). "But I've yet to hear you complain."

That hand around Raikov's member remained, not helping the younger man much at all. His harshness slowed down to two fingers forming a tight V along the shaft to the base, flowing into the crook of his palm back up to the glans. There might have been a quick fondle of his balls here and there, for variety.

There might have been an internal humming, a dangerous, deadly sound to pick up on the air for any man, but perhaps something else for Ivan. A teasing noise.

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