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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"Even one made unaware?"

"What about all the promises I made in my sleep that you forced me to keep?"

"Touché."

Raikov was released, and the giant was settling to his knees, his great height putting him into an uncomfortable stoop for the younger man's own groin. He resembled a giraffe carefully manipulating and positioning itself downwards for a drink at a watering hole.

The Major could bask in his tiny victory.

And bask he would.

A little grin grew on his face.

His hand settled on top of Volgin's head, fingers brushing through coarse hair.

Ivan grew hard just at the thought.

And Volgin could very well feel it. And see it filling out.

There was a small growl in the large chest; the Colonel did not like to be bested, brought to his knees like this.

His face pressed against that stiffening package, a hand positioned on each leg. His voice was a muffle, a teasing vibration and warmth: "You know what they say about rubbing it in, right?"

He inhaled the lovely musk that was Raikov, the Raikov he would call over to his quarters at his need, the Raikov with that beautiful snowy body white against his own tarnish and marring, but his own cock quietly hung submissively at half-mast.

Volgin rumbled again, nibbling at the member swelling beneath the layers of clothing.

"Rub it in?" He repeated, leaning back so he could leverage his hips into Volgin's face and rub them accordingly.

Ivan was being a cocky bastard as usual.

And then he felt thick fingers dig into his thighs and yank his legs up with a harsh tug. They were hung around Volgin's broad shoulders, perhaps putting Raikov on his back and allowing the giant a little more control in the wake of... defeat.

Not to mention it freed the older man's hands up a bit, but his mouth was going to tease him with his clothes on, just a little while more, just to make him pay.

Ivan huffed at the undignified yank, squirming himself at an angle so his neck wouldn't be forced up by the back of the couch.

He licked his lips, "I taste better with my pants off."

"Do you," Volgin muffled, continuing to pleasingly vibrate against the moistening center of Raikov's pants. An arm supporting the smaller man, he made motions with the other to slide his pants away, but not quite acted on them yet.

Make him wait a little more...

"Yeah," Ivan grinned, kneading the heal of his boot into Volgin's shoulderblade.

"Come on, dinner's waiting~"

Volgin felt that boot like a horse's tough hide to a whip, but he paused. Maybe lifted his head up a little bit from the other man's loins.

Quirked a brow. Looked at him.

Ivan stared right back at him, mimicking the raised brow as if to say, what are you waiting for?

Of course Ivan never really managed to let the full impact of his mocking, sarcastic stare set in--because just Galina trotted over to start licking his face.

To which he flailed awkwardly from his held position, trying to call her off. "Galina, down girl!"

Raikov's legs were promptly slid off from Volgin's shoulders then, the larger of the two Soviets firing the animal a very dirty glare from his narrowed eyes. Galina found herself with two powerful, thick arms around her chest as Volgin was hauling the troublesome dog away.

(Damn, he had a full erection, and the damn beast tapered it.)

Galina was tossed into Raikov's room without a second thought. Slam.

The thunder giant was silent when he approached Raikov again, seizing his legs.

"You have to wonder what else that damn dog will ruin..."

Raikov watched as Volgin hauled his dog away, but as long as the man didn't hurt her he was quite okay with it. After all, dog breath and slobber wasn't an aphrodisiac.

He licked his lips when he found himself manhandled again by the giant, wishing those damn thick pants weren't between him and those hands future of caressing his legs.

While reveling in those future thoughts, he replied quizzically to Volgin's probably rhetorical question, "She's usually very good when we're alone..."

Huskies bounced off walls naturally, right? Volgin did not mind heaving the dog far enough that he could get the door shut before the dog could bolt out again and disrupt very important matters.

"She has not been good today," Volgin grunted as he wrestled with those olive pants. They were not going to come off all the way, with their positioning and Raikov's shoes on, but he could make this work. Volgin's life had been about making situations like these work to his advantage.

He briefly considered the plentiful nature of the Nexus, and considered simply tearing those meddlesome pants and thong away.

"Now then." Raikov could feel the older man's moist breath on his genitals as his grip around his waist was adjusted. "Where were we."

"I'll punish her later," he smiled as Volgin pulled at his pants in a struggle, suddenly wishing he'd taken both shoes off to pummel Yevgeny with and not just one.

Ivan let out a sigh, shivering at the thought that any minute now Volgin's mouth would be wrapped him, and if all went well; he'd spill himself down the back of his throat.

"My blowjob."

Volgin struggled a bit more, the pants winding up dangling off the remaining booted foot and out of Volgin's way for the most part.

Now then.

Almost anticipating some other interruption, Volgin might have killed a bit of time to see if it will come (or bark, or fire, or explode, or...) with Ivan's balls, mouthing them, picking them up and letting them fall again. After only spurring on the other Russian's arrousal instead, Volgin decided he was not going to be stooping through this entire affair either.

Hm.

Raikov found that grip tighten around him, as his partner easily hauled him up in a quick motion. Soon enough, with a few long strides, his pretty little white head was grazing the ceiling, maybe cramped against it considering the other man's ridiculous height, with his back pinned precariously against the thin, square pillar next to the devastated dinning room table. Volgin, fond of risk, seemed quite satisfied with the shift.

Satisfied enough that finally Raikov felt those lips heartily kiss and suck along his shaft up to the glans. He might have heard Volgin purr.

Ivan was putty in his hands, tilting his head back and tugging on that short hair, urging Volgin to go higher.

"Not bad, Yevgeny...mmm...when was the last time you even gave one of these? Must have been before me...," he mused, and was about to say more when he was hauled upwards and carried off. "What are you--," Ivan hunched over Volgin and wrapped his arms around whatever he could reach for support, grunting when he was shoved against the pillar.

"The couch was more comfortable," he said snidely, ready to whine his way back to the couch if it weren't for those lips shutting him up. "Good..."

"Think," Volgin mumbled as sharing his tongue between Raikov and himself would allow him to speak, "of my aging back, you little nymph."

"Wouldn't holding me up burden you more?" He chuckled, settling his hands on Volgin's head, as his shoulders were taken.

"Angle," Volgin grunted before finally, finally allowing Raikov's cock entry into his mouth. In and out, in a sort of kiss along the glans and off the glans and then back in again.

"Same thi--oohh...," Ivan groaned pressing his back against the wall while pressing his hips against Volgin.

"Swallow that cock, Zhenya..."

"Mmhmm," vibrated Raikov's partner, flashing him a very dangerous eye from beneath his heavy brows. The younger man was not as large in comparison to the other way around; he was much easier to take regardless of the dictation of his white hips.

Ivan writhed his hips, and almost lost his balance against the pillar. "Mmm...Yevgeny...your mouth is so warm..."

"Yourff staffing fee offeumph." As matter-of-fact one could get with a penis in their mouth.

Volgin, fortunately, had a decent sense of balance, and luckily for Raikov, he was not going to be dropped any time soon if he could help it. The other hand that was supporting his partner's body was making decent means of compensating for whatever pretzaling his snowy self felt like trying to accomplish within the older man's grasp.

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