Max - Bey Deckard Page 0,43
and cock perking up at the sight of Max in pain. There was plenty of time for Max to clean, wasn’t there? It was early afternoon…
“But… First, you’re going to take care of this,” Crane growled, letting go of Max to take hold of his own dick through his shorts. “Go on, get on your knees and put that smart mouth to good use.”
Max dropped to his knees without comment and swiftly undid Crane’s fly to pull his hardening dick out. He looked up into Crane’s eyes as he wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, his tongue in a lazy swirl.
“Yeah, that’s it,” Crane husked, placing one hand on top of Max’s head before reaching for the rum with the other. “Suck that cock.”
Max laughed, rolling onto his belly to crawl away from Crane, and Crane grabbed him by an ankle to pull him back. He stroked his cock, everything overly slippery with lube, and growled in frustration. He couldn’t get hard, no matter how much he tried.
“You’re too fucking drunk to fuck!” teased Max, giggling. He was far from sober himself. He kicked at Crane’s hand, trying to escape. “Oh, come now, give up! You’ve got whisky dick, Doc.”
“I’m going to fuck you,” slurred Crane, smacking the back of Max’s thigh. “You little shit, stop fucking laughing!” He hit Max harder, but all it did was send him off on another peal of laughter. Blearily, he looked around, an idea forming in his head. Max was going to get fucked, one way or another. He just needed something hard and long…
“Oh yeah,” he said, remembering the shopping he’d done earlier. He let go of Max and stood unsteadily, weaving drunkenly through the dimly lit condo to the kitchen. Stumbling in the dark over the garbage on the floor, he found the abandoned bag of groceries and rooted through it. A tomato rolled off the counter and landed with a wet-sounding thud on the tiles. He paused, eyes closed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow they would clean. Tomorrow he would make supper. Tomorrow, he promised himself.
“Where’d you go?” called Max as Crane pulled out what he’d been searching for. He grinned and shuffled back to the bed, toppling over to land next to Max. He held up the big green zucchini he’d bought at the marché, and Max recoiled, his eyes round and face slack with horror.
“You’re… You’re not fucking serious,” he stammered.
Crane grabbed the bottle of lube and proceeded to drip some onto the zucchini. “Said you were going to get fucked,” he mumbled. “Didn’t I say you were going to get fucked?”
“That’s not going anywhere near… huhh—” Max struggled against Crane, trying to wrench his arm free. It took Crane’s full weight to turn Max back on his stomach, but for all the bucking and yelling Max was doing, it seemed to Crane that he wasn’t really putting up much of a fight. He lost his grip on the slippery zucchini twice before he managed to get Max’s thighs apart with his knee.
“Oh, God… Doc, that thing is huge,” whimpered Max. “Please. Please don’t. I’ll do anything you like. Anything, just don’t put that in my ass.”
Brow knit in concentration, Crane pushed the smooth round end of the zucchini against Max’s sphincter, his pulse racing with excitement.
“No… no…” Max’s voice was muffled by the pillow. “No… no…. n—fuck!” Max screamed as Crane managed to force the zucchini into him. “Jesus fucking Christ… huhh.” Max turned his head, his teeth bared, panting. His cheeks were beet red and his eyes squeezed tight. Crane pushed harder, forcing another inch into Max, and stopped when Max’s moans rose to a high-pitched wail.
“How’d you like that? Hm?” he said, realizing his cock was finally getting hard.
“It’s so big. Fuck, it’s so big,” sobbed Max, his face contorted with pain. “No more… please…”
Stroking himself, Crane fucked Max with the zucchini a bit deeper. The harder Max cried and screamed and begged, the closer he got. At long last, he gave a loud grunt and came all over the back of Max’s thighs. With a sigh and a satisfied little shiver, he collapsed on his side on the bare mattress where the sheet had ripped. Max looked over at him and winced as he pulled the zucchini out of his ass. He threw it off the bed and wiggled around until he was curled up in Crane’s arms, facing him and grinning in a hazy sort of contentment.
“Inventive,” he murmured, scratching Crane’s chest lightly.