Major Raikov (
majorbonerkiller) wrote2010-12-18 03:42 am
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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!"
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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Volgin watched the dog turn away, then turned his gaze towards Raikov for a moment, flashing him a look of stern disappointment. Although, the other man might have known the giant enough that he resembled more a dog himself having a favorite toy taken away before it could be chewed into a slimy stub than the dangerous creature with an aroused ire everyone else perceived (and appropriately relieved themselves).
"A few things."
Then the bed creaked when Volgin decided to lay fully on it, draping a large, thick arm casually across his belly. It was a small bed and annoyingly so; he did not miss custom ordering those, among other things. His knees were bent around the edge. He could have adjusted himself and curled up, like he did (uncomfortably) on the couch, but effect was effect.
"Your bed is too small, by the way."
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He watched as Volgin laid down and crossed his arms instead.
"It fits me just fine."
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Volgin's lazy expression begged for the looming Raikov to try something, if he might. He carried not a single note of being threatened.
A Colonel, without the world's superpowers breathing down the back of his neck.
"This won't be the last time I'm here," he distantly added.
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Ivan not so calmly replied.
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"The Nexus has everything in easy access, doesn't it?"
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He uses that a lot.
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Ivan sat on the bed, punching Volgin in the shoulder. Hard.
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"You remember that," he grunted, rolling over to spill an arm into Raikov's lap with another wrapping around him. He pressed his face into the smaller Soviet's thigh, muffling: "I know you would have remembered that."
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And in his chest--warm from the intimate gesture; it fueled his smile, but it didn't look any less wicked. His hand reached out to run over the other man's short, pale hair.
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Belying of the giant's coarse nature, Volgin had deceptively soft hair. It was thinning and the white hairs were getting easier and easier to pick out.
His hand was suggestively close to the younger man's crotch. If Volgin was teasing or simply too occupied with Raikov's side was a debatable matter.
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But instead he just sat there dumbly, continually grazing his fingers through the short crop of hair.
"So...about those seconds?" Stupid...tantalizing hand near his crotch.
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"Poison." His fingers near that crotch made a lazy drum. "Pick it."
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"...I want you to suck me off," an impossible request, he knew. But wasn't it worth a try?
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The weight of that arm was temporarily lifted when it struck at Raikov's crotch like a snake. His aim was perfect, if the angle was awkward. Volgin, a creature of adaptability as far as the duties of a soldier and commanding officer had taught him, worked with it.
"How direct of you."
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He smiled lecherously, sighed, "I always am..."
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There was the sound of rubber tensing as Volgin squeezed. It was one of his softer groin assaults, however. The petting had dulled his grip.
Raikov was a pretty good reason for any deviations in his usual violent and destructive course of behavior.
With that, there was a shuffling, the bed moving and squeaking with the giant's adjustment in position, and then there was now a part of the hard, muscular torso flopped over Raikov's lap. The Colonel settled himself with a satisfied grunt, not too unlike the air brake of a semi truck easing to a stop.
"Give me a moment," was Volgin's low murmur, enjoying taking up the bed and Ivan for the time being a bit too much.
The Major likely knew what would get the inert beast of a man to move if he so needed, either way.
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He watched in disbelief as the older man seemed to--actually be intent on giving him a blowjob.
"Are you really--?" He couldn't even fathom it, couldn't stop the stupid grin from spread across his face.
He didn't even care that Volgin's massive bulk was effectively crushing part of his legs.
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Volgin was sure flopped there for awhile. He might have been dozing off again after enough slow blinks. His breathing was audible, heavy and deep.
(... Was that snoring?)
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"Hey!" He balled his hand into a fist, punching Volgin in the same shoulder as before.
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The grogginess masked, he narrowed his eyes, sitting up to make direct eye contact with the Major and leer in. A supporting hand and arm pressed against his companion's package.
"The sniper almost got me, but I didn't let him. I told you not to hit me there." Often. The old battle wound was a good spot for Ivan to use to drive a point home as needed. Unusually for the Colonel, but not so much in regards to Ivan, the threat was empty.
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"Well then maybe you shouldn't fall asleep in the middle of giving me a blowjob!" Ivan huffed, keeping a steady gaze, but he wasn't really angry. In fact, he softened quite quickly and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the Colonel's lips.
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Then he stopped and considered a very important thing, and jerked away.
"I need to check something."
Whatever it was, Volgin was twisting himself and using the momentum to fling his respectable mass off the bed and to the door.
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gratuitous description of Ivan eating a spoonful of pasta
food porn
I can get behind that objective
/insert bloodninja vegetable porno log here
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