Erotic short. Curt has a surprise for his boyfriend when he comes home from sea.
Explicit M/M short between a cis male lecturer in medicine and his trans boyfriend, set loosely in the late 1800s. 1384 words. Features nipple piercings, nipple play, chest play, rough sex, fingering, D/s, dirty talk.
Terms used for Curt’s genitals are cock and cunt, and his chest is referred to as his tits.
He didn’t much like the university.
It wasn’t the place for the likes of him, and he didn’t like how he felt when he was in it — he didn’t like how wide the corridors were or how high the ceilings were, didn’t like the noise his feet made on the shiny tile floors, and most of all he didn’t like all the posh little cunts that scuttled about in the halls. The ones that dressed normal were awful, and the ones that actually wore their robes were unbearable.
Adam was different.
Adam was, undoubtedly, awful, unbearable, and a posh little cunt.
But Curt liked what he liked.
When he went into Adam’s office, he was already standing up, and he’d hung his teaching robes — which he looked good in, as far as these things went — up on the rack, and he was looking through some ridiculously heavy-looking, leather bound book from the shelf.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” he said, without looking up. “Clothes off, up on my desk, please.”
The blinds were already drawn, and Curt didn’t argue or disobey — he didn’t want to argue or disobey. He was wet even before he crossed the threshold to the university’s hallowed halls, and he was ready to be played with. It’d been six months since he’d last come into Adam’s office — he’d been away at sea, not a thing he was not about to repeat — and things’d changed.
Adam didn’t look at him as he undressed, went along to turn the key in the lock of the door, and then he turned around to come toward him —
And stopped.
Curt sat there, leaning back on the desk, his legs spread apart. He was wet, and his cock was big and fat and pink.
The bars through his nipples were silver, and they shone in the light.
He liked the look on Adam’s face as he slowly walked forward — it was the look he saw on Adam’s face when he was lecturing his prick students about bones and organs, the same look he saw on his face when he was studying pages of tiny, printed text. It was a studious, thoughtful look: Adam’s pinched little mouth was even more pinched and little than usual, his thin eyebrows were furrowed deeply so a big ravine appeared between them, his nose wrinkled.
Slowly, his twisted mouth curved into a small smile.
“When did you get these?” he asked quietly.
“’Fore I left,” said Curt.
“They’re quite healed, then,” said Adam — Doctor Hayden.
“Yeah,” said Curt, and hissed as Adam gripped both of his nipples by the bars through them, thumbs pressing against the ball of each barbel and gently tugging down. It made each of his tits give a sudden hot throb, sensation rippling out from each of the nipples, and his cock jumped at the same time, surged as if Adam was touching it directly.
“You could come just from nipple stimulation alone, before,” said Adam thoughtfully, in a carefully musing voice, as though considering an academic theory. “I suppose that’s easier for you now?”
“Yea — ” Curtis was cut off by a cruel twist in each direction of Adam’s delicate hands, making him yelp, and he gripped hard at the edge of the desk, his eyes closing tightly shut. His whole chest felt hot, but Adam didn’t let up. He pulled, twisted, tugged like he was trying to milk him, and it hurt, but fuck, if it didn’t feel good. His cock felt so full, tight, and thrilled that it could well burst, and it was great. He ground his hips against the air as Adam grasped the whole of each of his tits in hands, releasing his grip on the piercings themselves for a bit just to squeeze underneath, rolling the flesh between his slightly cool fingers — he was a doctor, after all — and making the blood flow.
“Oh, the things I could do to you,” said Adam softly, and Curtis heaved in a breathless gasp as he felt the blush burn in his cheeks, because this was his favourite part, the part that had been getting him off for the past six months letting other sailors fuck him, lying back and imagining Doctor Adam Hayden’s nasty, nasty voice and the nasty things he’d say. “I’d like to keep you here in my office, what do you say to that?”
“I’d say fuck me,” said Curt, and Adam laughed, squeezing and pulling at the same time, so that his whole chest felt like it was thrumming: Curt moaned from very low in his throat as Adam kept massaging, pushing and pulling.
“I always did rather like the idea of having you on your own dedicated table,” said Adam thoughtfully. “On your forearms and your knees, arse in the air, so that I might use you as a table, play with that fat little cunt of yours, but this, this changes matters. I’d need to mount you up on a shelf, I think, knees pinned apart… A chain between these lovely fat tits of yours would be a delightful start, but do you know what I think would be a wonderful sight? And such a… potentially charming teaching tool?”
Adam slapped his tits from underneath, making them wobble, and Curt whimpered, spreading his thighs further apart. Adam did not take pity on him, did not even push his knee between Curt’s open legs like he sometimes did and give him something to grind on.
His whole chest felt on fire, his cock too, and as Adam wrapped his mouth around the nipple of Curt’s left tit, sucking hard on it and pushing the barbel back and forth with his tongue, he danced the thumb of his other hand over Curt’s swollen cock. It was a delicate couch, barely enough to feel, but Curt clenched on air, cock jumping, and a pre-orgasmic thrill rushed through him, making his thighs quiver and his knees jump.
“N-No?” asked Curt.
“I could have someone put a piercing through the head of your cock, too. A nice, taut chain between all three… I could rather play that like a harp.”
One hand was squeezing his other tit, thumb dragging and pulling the bar in its place so that he could feel it rub through the nipple, and he felt like there was a current running through him, couldn’t stop keening from deep in his throat. Adam’s other hand came to grip so tightly, thumb and forefinger squeezing so hard he could cry, around his cock.
When Curt came, he squealed, was aware of how loud the sound was, how embarrassing, felt it hurt a little as it was wrenched out of his throat. The waves of hot, impossible pleasure radiated out from his cunt, his cock jumping as best it could despite how tight Adam’s grip was, and his chest jumped and wobbled as he thrust his hips into the touch.
His eyes were watering, every inch of his skin on fire, and Adam kissed him as he rode the crest.
Adam worked him through it, gentling his hands as the waves calmed down, and when Adam pulled back from the kiss, Curt looked at his face.
“You look like dogshit,” he said, slightly breathless, aware he was sweating, wetness slick on his thighs and over Adam’s hand. “You an’t been sleeping much, I bet, letting them fucks run you ragged.”
“Perhaps I’ve missed you,” said Adam quietly.
“Show me you missed me,” said Curt, willing to breeze past it if Adam didn’t want to talk about it. “Put your cock where your mouth is.”
“Where your mouth is, you mean,” said Adam.
“I want it somewhere else,” said Curt, and Adam laughed. It was a soft sound — he looked too tired to manage a loud noise, even if he was inclined. He did look tired, bags under his eyes, in his cheeks. “Fuck me now?” asked Curt. “I’ll sit in your lap. Let you take it easy.”
“Oh, do,” said Adam. “Give me easy access.”
Curt’s tits were sore as anything by the time they went back to Adam’s little flat even before Adam dug a chain for them out of the back of a drawer, and Curt submitted to the torture gladly, with an open heart and open legs.
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