traintracks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
traintracks) wrote2012-04-15 01:33 pm
traintracks) wrote2012-04-15 01:33 pm
"But I Am", Sirius/Harry, NC-17
Title: But I Am
Author:traintracks
Pairing: Sirius/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Words: 470
Summary: Just some guilty-awesome PWP to get back into the swing of things.
Warnings/Enticements: godfather/godson, secret sex, age difference
A/N: AU (Sirius is alive for Harry's 7th year.)
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this.
Perversely, that mantra in my head keeps time to the descent of my mouth down his cock.
It’s not that he’s school-aged, a tender seventeen; it’s not that he’s my godson, entrusted to me by his parents; it’s not that I let him pursue me – let him flirt and touch and smile and say my name like a spell, “Sirius…” until I was in his narrow bed – that I never stopped it, that I let him kiss my throat with bated breath, let him touch my cock inside my pants until we were both hard. It’s not that we’ve been doing this out of sight of everyone for two months now.
It’s all of those things. And I can’t stop it.
His pursuit encouraged my own, so that now I come to him in the dead of night, and I lift his covers and touch his dear body, his skinny chest, teasing his nipples with my lips and tongue. I take him. I take this boy. I take him under me; I take him slowly; I take him rough at the end; I take him until he’s begging me to let him come. And then I *make* him come.
I’m sucking his cock now. I adore Harry’s cock – the silky taste of his sweat, the way his pre-come practically melts in my mouth, the way he fits and moves and whines, his butt bouncing on the bed. The way I can flick just so and make it jump hard on my tongue.
My hair keeps getting in my face, but I don’t stop. I just hold his hard cock in my mouth, sucking soft and steady, and I reach into my pocket for something to tie my hair back. He looks up. He tells me, “Don’t. I like the way it tickles me.”
I don’t listen to him, even though his words almost make me come. I tie back my hair into a ponytail, and then I deep throat him and tickle his anus with the tip of my finger instead. He lifts his hips and invites me in. I push; his tiny hole caves; I thrust it inside him until he comes down my throat, begging me to fuck him with my cock.
I do.
I swallow his semen, and then I hike his legs up over my shoulders, and I push inside him. He bares his throat in agony, opening himself – I can feel him trying – and the sight of his spent cock, small and soft between us, does me in, and I’m going too hard in him too soon.
And while I fuck him, the mantra continues:
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this.
But I am.
Author:
traintracksPairing: Sirius/Harry
Rating: NC-17
Words: 470
Summary: Just some guilty-awesome PWP to get back into the swing of things.
Warnings/Enticements: godfather/godson, secret sex, age difference
A/N: AU (Sirius is alive for Harry's 7th year.)
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this.
Perversely, that mantra in my head keeps time to the descent of my mouth down his cock.
It’s not that he’s school-aged, a tender seventeen; it’s not that he’s my godson, entrusted to me by his parents; it’s not that I let him pursue me – let him flirt and touch and smile and say my name like a spell, “Sirius…” until I was in his narrow bed – that I never stopped it, that I let him kiss my throat with bated breath, let him touch my cock inside my pants until we were both hard. It’s not that we’ve been doing this out of sight of everyone for two months now.
It’s all of those things. And I can’t stop it.
His pursuit encouraged my own, so that now I come to him in the dead of night, and I lift his covers and touch his dear body, his skinny chest, teasing his nipples with my lips and tongue. I take him. I take this boy. I take him under me; I take him slowly; I take him rough at the end; I take him until he’s begging me to let him come. And then I *make* him come.
I’m sucking his cock now. I adore Harry’s cock – the silky taste of his sweat, the way his pre-come practically melts in my mouth, the way he fits and moves and whines, his butt bouncing on the bed. The way I can flick just so and make it jump hard on my tongue.
My hair keeps getting in my face, but I don’t stop. I just hold his hard cock in my mouth, sucking soft and steady, and I reach into my pocket for something to tie my hair back. He looks up. He tells me, “Don’t. I like the way it tickles me.”
I don’t listen to him, even though his words almost make me come. I tie back my hair into a ponytail, and then I deep throat him and tickle his anus with the tip of my finger instead. He lifts his hips and invites me in. I push; his tiny hole caves; I thrust it inside him until he comes down my throat, begging me to fuck him with my cock.
I do.
I swallow his semen, and then I hike his legs up over my shoulders, and I push inside him. He bares his throat in agony, opening himself – I can feel him trying – and the sight of his spent cock, small and soft between us, does me in, and I’m going too hard in him too soon.
And while I fuck him, the mantra continues:
I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be doing this.
But I am.