Sex Scene Championship #SSceneC2015 : J.J. Lore (@JJLore1 ) vs Mia West (@AuthorMiaWest )

Her heart hammering, and everything in her body tensing with desire, Avanelle relaxed into the moment. She hadn’t felt so good in months, years. Why not take this encounter to a pleasurable conclusion?“You may touch me,” she managed to whisper. Mateen grunted and stopped caressing her long enough to pull apart the waist of her bottoms and tug them down around her hips. His fingers slid into her curls, easing into her already wet folds.

“Is she…?” Byn asked, and Avanelle returned her attention to him, realizing she hadn’t left hold of his cock during her previous movements. She gave him a squeeze and a stroke, and he closed his eyes. Thick, hard, hot, she could feel his cock pulse with more blood, a tiny bead of pre-cum gleaming at the tip.

“She feels … this is good, Byn.” The other man’s voice faded to a whisper, and she felt his   breath on her shoulder as he again pressed against her, a warm wall of a chest, strong support of his legs framing her body, keeping her safe. The light nip of his teeth against her shoulder made her shiver, made her clit swell. “Avanelle, please tell me if I err in pleasing you.”

At this point, she could probably rock her hips against his fingers and find a climax. Realizing she wanted one, wanted one with the two of them as witnesses, made her skin flush hot and cold.

“Tell me, Bynton.” She had no idea what sort of touches an Alphan preferred.

“Just steady, up and down, there’s a spot under the corona,” His hand met hers and pressed her thumb to a small dent under his thickened head. “That’s very important. Oh, Avanelle.”

He gasped her name as she moved her hand along his cock, allowing her fingers to bump along as she rotated and stroked. His breath caught, and he threw his head back. Mateen’s fingers slid against her, near her clit but not close enough. She braced herself on her knees and used her free hand to catch his fingers, frame two along each side of her agonized bundle of nerves. A small part of her brain was amazed she had the courage to instruct such a huge, strong male. “Steady, up and down—”

“And that’s your important spot.” Mateen finished for her as he made good on her instructions. She couldn’t hold back her soft cries as he touched her and had to force herself to concentrate on Bynton as he strained against the bed under her touch. Within a few more seconds he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand up and down forcefully, growling out a rumbling cry as his cock jumped and shivered. Whitish streams of cum pulsed from him, spattering on his belly as he roared, his eyes closing.

Avanelle could barely register his release before Mateen’s steady strokes captured her whole attention. She let go of Bynton’s throbbing cock and braced her hands against the bed as she lifted her hips and spread her legs, desperate for him to have full access. His free arm caught her under her breasts and pulled her up and against him as he kept up the quick rhythm of pleasure, squeezing her clit between his knuckles with every stroke. A spike of bliss caught her unexpectedly, and she writhed in his grip, crying out as her pussy clenched. A wave of shocking ecstasy vibrated through her limbs, and she fell back against Mateen, heedless of how he held her. With a few shaky breaths she rested in his arms, everything in her warm and soft with waves of delight.

She opened her eyes, realizing she’d pleasured, been pleasured, by, these alien men. They hadn’t even kissed, and she’d come. Did Alphans kiss? She glanced down to see Mateen’s golden arms crisscrossing her body, her legs spread wide as her muscles trembled. Bynton still sprawled in front of her, his eyes avidly inspecting her. The man behind her breathed hard, and she noticed his cock had slipped between her thighs, lying against the wet and still shivering folds of her pussy. What now?

Marc threaded the chain through the headboard and shut the second cuff on Wolf’s bare wrist. He immediately pulled on his restraints. The force shifted the headboard and drew his biceps into melon-sized knots. The bed was a heavy piece but, frankly, Marc’s money was on Wolf. The smith saw him sizing up the potential destruction and grinned.

Marc’s prick jumped. It was a confident grin, a cocky one, and it brought something indefinably attractive to Wolf’s face. The man chained to the bed wasn’t thinking about looted, empty garrisons or bandits or his powerlessness over death. This man knew his strength. He had, since Marc had left, grown into his body, filling out the long, strong bones with supple layers of flesh. He now fully inhabited every inch of it.

Every thick, meaty inch.

Marc sat on the mattress next to Wolf’s hip. The smith’s cock stood at half attention, wine-dusky and blunt in its hood. Slowly, Marc wrapped his hand around it. Wolf hissed. With gentle but firm movements, Marc slid the foreskin down to expose the crown of the cock, then back up to cover it. The chain binding Wolf rattled as he pulled it tight. He pressed his head into the mattress, then jerked it upright to watch Marc’s hand.

“More?”

“Yes.”

Marc stroked him again, pulling a deep grunt from his massive chest. With his free hand, Marc shoved his fingers into the blond hair covering that chest. Wolf’s heart thumped against his fingertips. Marc squeezed his cock.

Wolf’s thighs tightened, and he pushed up into Marc’s fist. Marc lifted his hand. Wolf chased it, but lost contact a foot above the mattress. His eyes grew wide as he began to realize what the restraints might mean for him. His expression when he turned it on Marc was fierce with consternation, but Marc could see the plea in it.

He had no desire, he realized then, to tease Wolf that way, and certainly not to humiliate him. Marc had only wanted to bring them to some kind of physical equilibrium—level ground on which they could meet, weapons and defenses on par. The one way he could think to do that was to take away Wolf’s easy ability to turn the advantage with his greater size. Marc supposed he could have just asked the man to keep it in check, but that could be difficult in the heat of battle. He could, however, show Wolf a benefit of the bindings: surrender.

To have no need to worry about anything.

To be cared for, tended to.

He leaned over Wolf, meeting his troubled gaze. “Lie back and relax.”

“Stop telling me what to do.”

Marc chuckled. “All right. But you’ll enjoy this. I promise.”

He set first one knee then the other between Wolf’s legs. Sitting on his heels, Marc smoothed his hands along Wolf’s shins, over his knees, up his thighs. Muscle twitched under his touch. He pushed back. When his hands reached the smooth skin of Wolf’s hips, he paused.

Wolf watched him, hands flexing above their cuffs.

Marc looked down at his own fingers, dark against Wolf’s pale skin. He slipped them into the thick hair above Wolf’s cock. The hair was both coarser and softer than Marc had imagined. He curled his fingers and tugged.

“Unh!” Wolf shifted, startled, one heel digging into the mattress. Before he could twist away, Marc bent and took Wolf’s cock into his mouth.

Somewhere above his head, the chains rattled. Marc ignored them, focused on how Wolf, even half-hard, filled his mouth. He smelled musky in a way that made Marc’s balls ache. Easing off, he pulled the foreskin back to run his tongue along its edge.

Wolf bucked.

No teasing.

Cupping his hand, Marc swiped his tongue up Wolf’s length from root to crown. He kept on, lavishing the man’s cock with single-minded attention until Wolf’s legs grew restless, his feet pushing against the mattress as if to climb it. His thighs pressed against Marc’s shoulders. He let them, enjoying their strength. When he finally swallowed Wolf’s cock again, the thighs fell away. Marc braced a hand on each, pushing them open. He sucked on Wolf in long, forceful pulls that dragged matching long, forceful groans from the man. Smoothing his hands firmly over hair, skin, muscle, and tendon, he dipped briefly to coax a testicle from its tense position. Pressing his tongue to the ridged skin of Wolf’s sac, he nibbled and sucked until he could draw the balls into his mouth.

“Gods.”

Marc smiled around Wolf’s stones, feeling, well, wolfish. Predatory. Possessive. He wanted to be Wolf’s first man, felt a ridiculous pride in it.

And if he got some pleasure from it too… no harm done.