OOM: For Sinric

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal's office is brightly lit today, the windows open to let in grey wintery light which washes palely over the furniture and art.

The pictures are Tang dynasty landscape paintings today, interspersed with court scenes of officials wearing complex hats.

Hannibal politely gestures at the couch, then goes to fetch the wine glasses.

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Nipples still warm and swollen from before harden again. Sinric sighs and lets his head fall back. His hand move over Hannibal's shoulders and down his front, seeking the buttons of his shirt.

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes," Hannibal murmurs, "touch me, lovely Sinric!"

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric pushes back Hannibal's shirt, running small smooth hands over his chest. He pushes one shoulder off so he can kiss his way over Hannibal's collarbone.

[cook_the_rude]

"Oh yes," Hannibal murmurs, smiling at him like a cat who got at the cream.

[thewidewideworld]

Not just the cream but the canary too. Well, a lark anyway. Sinric takes his time, nuzzles and kisses the slopes and planes of Hannibal's collarbone, moving slowly down his chest. Skin and silk brushing skin as he curls his tongue around Hannibal's nipple.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans softly. "You haven't lost your touch at all," he declares.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles against his skin, curling his tongue this way and that over the tips of Hannibal's nipples. He shifts a little further back on Hannibal's knees, allowing him to kiss lower down his chest as stomach.

He has lost little of his flexibly too.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal sighs, leaning back his head.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric kisses his way lower, reacquainting himself with the shapes and plains of Hannibal's chest and stomach. He pauses at he nuzzles Hannibal's navel, fingers brushing the fly of his trousers. "May I?"

[cook_the_rude]

"Yes!" Hannibal enthusiastically agrees.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shifts back, his weight just on the inner edge of Hannibal's knees as he opens Hannibal's fly and belt, easing them down. He certainly has the flexibility to pleasure Hannibal from here but it wouldn't be as good, nor as comfortable on Hannibal's knees so he slips gracefully to the floor. Silk settles around him like a cloud as he kneels between Hannibal's feet, urging him to lift a little so Sinric may help him out of his trousers.

[cook_the_rude]

With a pleased sigh, Hannibal does just that.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric helps him out of his shoes and socks, easing his trousers down to revel his manhood.

He makes a pretty sight, there at Hannibal's feet as he kisses the curve of Hannibal's thigh, feeling the hard muscle and smooth skin, working his way progressively higher.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans and opens his legs, invitingly.

[thewidewideworld]

An invitation Sinric takes gladly. He nuzzles slowly up Hannibal's thighs, his smooth cheek brushing against the hot skin of Hannibal's manhood. He kisses up the sweep of his pelvic and hip, up to the lower plane of his stomach. In doing so, Hannibal's jewels come to rest on the sweep of Sinric's breasts. A hard sight for any man not to enjoy.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal bends down to kiss Sinric's shoulder and neck.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric looks up to capture Hannibal in a kiss, intentionally rubbing Hannibal's stones and stem between his small, pert breasts.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal kisses him deeply, moaning in pleasure.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric keeps it up, bobbing slowly to press skin to skin, capturing Hannibal's shaft between his small breasts.

[cook_the_rude]

"You are so" -- moan -- "inventive!"

[thewidewideworld]

"You seem to rather enjoy it." He lowers his chin so his lips press against the head of Hannibal's manhood with each rise and fall of Sinric's chest.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moves his hips, as if involuntarily, rubbing his prick against Sirnic's breasts.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric purrs an encouragement, moving with Hannibal's thrusts so more of his manhood pushes into his mouth each time. He lowers his hands to Hannibal's thighs, using his upper arms to keep his breast tightly together.

[cook_the_rude]

Hannibal moans, and can't help but thrust even more strongly.

[thewidewideworld]

His chin tucked to his chest and his lips tight and hot, Sinric gives himself over to Hannibal's thrusts. He allows himself to drool, letting Hannibal's shaft grow wet and slick as it slides between his breasts.