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You were sprawled on top of him. Your hips ghosted over his, rolling them to provide some stimulation to the big brute. Your hands are all over his body, your lips kissing and licking his chest and toned stomach. You sneak kisses and suck into his sensitive cybernetic neck and tendons.
He shivers under your touch, whimpering, and moaning into the cool night air. He bucks up his hips into yours, a moan tumbling from your lips. Hazard’s hands are bound in purple silk above his head. A collar is wrapped around his neck, and you hook a finger around the leather and pull it towards you.
You straddle his hips and sit down in his lap, his cock pressing right up against your pussy. He whines at the feeling.
You lean down, slowly grinding your hips, tilting your head as you listen to his sweet lewd sounds. You stare at his lips and bend down, intent on finally connecting your faces together.
Hazard’s eyes shoot open, sitting up and gasping for air. His face was flushed, sweat beading on his forehead.
It was a dream.
Tch, it was a dream?!
He runs a hand down his face, groaning to himself. Although everything he just witnessed was fake, the hardness in his pants wasn’t.
He needed relief. And he needed it fast.
Checking the time, it’s 2:24 AM. The base is quiet, nobody else should be up at this hour, right?
He settles back into his bed, staring up at the ceiling. With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, determined to relieve himself.
“Alright Fin,” he utters, shifting his back against the covers. “Just relax.”
To be sure, he opens his eyes to look around his room. No one’s there of course, but his eyes wanted to keep busy. He really just wanted to calm himself down. He looks down at himself and realizes he’s still in his regular leather cargo pants. His leather jacket hangs on a chair not too far from his bed. He’s reminded that he came straight into his room, took off his jacket, and passed out after a mission.
He couldn’t help himself.
He had to.
The tight leather of his pants didn’t help his situation, suppressing his cock. He tilts his head back and groans. His hands roam his neck and chest, fingertips tracing over the skin to elicit a tingly feeling. Both of his hands stop and pinch at his nipples, hardening under his touch, the metal bars in each of them creating a prickling sensation.
His breathing grows heavy, and whiny moans are uttered in the dark room. His eyes are lidded, pupils dilated as his hands slowly continue their way down his body. The bulge in his pants was prominent, the outline visible from any angle. He had started to ache, his pants growing firmer.
He gave another whiny moan. The tension in his pants was too much for him to handle. Images of you swarmed his brain. From innocent, to downright dirty. It overwhelmed him. He swelled even more against the tight fabric, a slight gasp erupting from him.
He continues to trail his fingertips past his abs to reach his crotch. It sent shivers down his spine and he wasn’t complaining. He decides to palm himself through the tight fabric.
Shallow moans escaped his lips, head thrown back from the pleasure he gave himself. His hips moved up to meet his hands’ desperate massages. He brought his other hand to his chest, tracing his fingers over his taut nipples, and the underside of his pecs, grabbing at anything to up the amount of pleasure he wanted to feel. He was throbbing, and he couldn’t get enough of it. When his hand had drank enough of his body in, he dragged it to his hair, pushing through the softness and yanking it.
His body convulsed at that. His eyes were screwed shut, making himself believe that you were there, that you were the one making him beg and whimper into the quiet night air. Throwing his head back again, he whines out your name. He shuddered as he still continued to knead his hand against his cock.
The hand that wasn’t taking care of his pants situation was now grabbing at his pecs again, running his thumb over his now sensitive nipples, the cool steel of his piercing upping the pleasure.
He exhales a long, shaky breath. His imagination got the best of him again, and you were there. He imagined you sweetly kissing his thighs. Your hands rubbed and kneaded the corded muscle he still had on his legs. He imagined you kissing everywhere else on his body, fingers ghosting where your kisses could have been. His cock pulses at the thought.
A warmth began to spread in his belly, and he finally unbuckled those damned pants. With a strangled moan, he wiggled himself out just enough to wrap his hand around where he needed the touch most. Small tears welled in his eyes from the overstimulation as he hissed, now pumping himself without any restrictions. He feverishly jerked himself, squeezing, pulling, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin.
He pretended you were on top of him, rocking your hips into his own. Grabbing his face and squishing his cheeks together to pucker his lips. His sharp jawline would be peppered with your gentle kisses. Nuzzling your face into his neck and nipping at the exposed cybernetics.
A sheen of sweat had started to collect on his toned midsection, his abs crunching together and contorting when he’d twist his body in pleasure.
The freedom without his pants felt amazing, there was less pressure. Nothing pushing against him to make him stop in his tracks. Opening his eyes, he looked down. He was swollen, his cock a bit redder than usual with tons of precum leaking from the tip. He wished you were there taking care of this for him. Your fingers toying around with his slit, your grip around his girth. It sent shivers down his spine. He threw his head back, sharp brows furrowing as he jerked himself off harder.
“Agh, fu-fuck…” He started rolling his hips into his hand. His other hand was briefly occupied with his torso once again, lightly trailing his fingertips back and forth up and down everywhere from his chest to his ridged belly. He snarled as he became more desperate. Now frantically snapping his hips into his hand. His other hand found a good spot and stayed to toy with one of his nipples, squishing his pecs.
Pumping himself like his life depended on it, he continued to think about you as his cock proceeded to twitch and pulse around his hand. You were the only one doing this to him. Your voice, your body, your attitude, it was all clouding around in his mind. He thought dirtier, imagining what was under those cute clothes you wore. Oh, he dreamed of what you tasted like. How he’d slurp at your folds, drinking you up like a fine wine. That’s what sent him over the edge.
He hissed, the lower part of his body convulsed as he finally came. A string of moans left him as spurts of cum made a mess on and around him. His hands hit the bed, eyes gently closing and opening, and his muscles contracted as he took deep breaths. He slowly lifted his elbows to sit himself up lazily as he assessed the situation. His eyes finally open up wide enough, he stares at his dick.
With his cheeks tinted pink, he saw his cum had coated his abs, slowly dripping and falling into the crevices his stomach made. His swollen cock tip was sensitive to the overstimulation. His thighs were trembling, with them also having his cum spilling down towards the bed. His hands were still shaking, his breath uneven and the lower half of him was just a mess.
You were doing so many things to this man and you weren’t even there.
He thumps against the bed, a hand coming up to his face to wipe the sweat off his brow.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He’s out of breath, cum on his stomach, his nipples red, sensitive, and bruised, and his thighs are still quivering. He peeks back down. “What a mess.”
He leans back up and decides to take a shower and get rid of all his euphoric filth. The cool water wakes him up, prickling against his skin. He scrubs the bottom half of himself and enjoys how the water feels. His breathing slows, eyes closed as water droplets rest on his lashes.
But, his thoughts drifted back to you. In that dream. It just felt so real. Your skin pressing against his. Your lips eating him up, leaving a trail of bites and marks. The soft caresses of your hands, your sweet smell, bedroom eyes…
Needless to say, he felt himself getting hard. Again .
“Shite,” he breathes out. He grunts, leaning his forehead against the wet tile. The stream of water cascades down his back, dipping and tracing the muscles and mods embedded within his skin.
He wraps a hand around himself and starts pumping slowly, rubbing a thumb over his slit. He growls, his breath hitting the tile in front of him only to bounce back and fan his face. He bites the bottom of his lip, one of his canines cutting hard against the soft, plush skin.
He tilts his body back, moving his head and neck for the water to fall where he wants, pretending it was your touch. Your kisses. A low moan escapes him, his other hand goes back to his chest like it did before. Tweaking his abused nips, the slight pain feels good with the pleasure.
His hips roll against his hand, grinding into the air. Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, his chest heaving as he starts to daydream about you. Maybe you’re on your knees, staring up at him with those doe eyes, grabbing his dick and peppering kisses on it. Massaging the muscles lining his legs, licking his tip, nuzzling your face into his thighs…
His back hits the tile, the water now falling onto his abs, his stomach tensing. Everything feels hazy, your face is blurred, the edges of you fuzzy, but those eyes. Staring right into his soul as you take him fully into your mouth.
He throbs in his palm, hissing to himself. He fidgets with the bars pierced through his nips, rolling it between his fingers. Pulling it. Yanking it. Squeezing his pecs as he gets closer to that edge once again.
“Mmh, bonnie… look what yer doin’ to me,” he says, breathless. “I’ll be good. I- I’ll be your good boy, yeah?”
He was talking himself through it, acting like you were whispering sweet nothings into the air. It was all too much for him.
The lower half of him tightens as he cums again, and a whine erupts from him. He’s a panting mess, leaning his whole weight against the wall of the shower, the water still pattering on his skin. His legs felt like jelly at this point, barely able to stand in the shower.
“Christ…” he mutters. He pushes off the tile and washes himself yet again. Turning off the water and drying off with a towel, he looks at himself in the mirror. There’s a small crack in the corner, the fractured lines slowly making their way towards the center. He stares at himself. His skin is flushed, his hair is a wet tousled mess, his chest is red with marks, and his nipples are bruised.
Did he feel a bit pathetic? Maybe a little. But he didn’t care. Hazard was known not to have any shame.
He trudges back into his room, his legs heavier than usual. Getting into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, he cleans up the bed and finally lies back against his covers, staring up at the ceiling.
He sighs, his body sinking into the softness of his bed. His thoughts are calm. Nothing dirty lingering around in his brain. At least, for now. He closes his eyes, letting sleep claim him. But this time, when his mind catches a glimpse of your face, it isn’t a blur. Or hazy. Or foggy.
It’s you. Your eyes are warm, and inviting. A small smile on your face as you look up at him. That was how he knew you. Well, maybe his brain wasn’t too off track with its daydreaming. The complete opposite of Hazard, you were gentle to him in his dream. Soft, calm, subtle, like you were in real life.
Heh, maybe he’d try to test that theory out.
Well… if you were up for it, of course.