“I’m ready for you, Daddy,” Seymour said, not recognizing his own voice for how strained it was.
The door opened and Sariel stepped in, half transformed to his true body.
Seymour had to squint to shield his eyes from the bright glow of Sariel’s head, and he gasped when Sariel grabbed his hips.
Not with hands, but those powerful strings of muscle.
They curled around him like vines, firm and strong, and a few slipped under Seymour’s shirt to tease his nipples and cup the front of his throat. He gasped but didn’t struggle. When one of the muscular tendrils teased over his lips, he licked it earnestly.
Sariel touched between Seymour’s cheeks now, rubbing against his slick hole. He pushed inside, again not with fingers but another rope of muscle.
Seymour groaned quietly, and he sucked the muscle into his mouth to help muffle his cries.
“Good boy,” Sariel rumbled, his voice echoing in the small space. “You did a very good job.”
Seymour turned his head to pop the muscle out of his mouth. “Thank you, Daddy.” He arched his ass back and tried to grind against Sariel’s touch. “Please. Take me now. Fuck me. Make me yours.”
“I will.” Sariel continued to fuck into Seymour’s hole. “When I am ready.”
Seymour groaned, squeezing down on the muscle inside him. It was getting bigger, thicker, and he gasped, savoring the delicious swell of pressure. A second one joined the first, and he stuck out his tongue to reclaim the tendril he’d been sucking on. His dick was hard, pressed between the tile and his own body, and he rocked forward to increase the sensation.
“You are being so good for Daddy,” Sariel purred, pumping in and out a little faster now. “Can you stay nice and quiet for me? Like a good boy?”
“Mmhmm,” Seymour mumbled through his mouthful.
God, yes.
He could be quiet.
He could be good.
He could fucking do this.
Nothing else mattered, only what was happening inside this bathroom stall. He let his world become tile and porcelain, the heat of Sariel’s body pressed against him, and the sound of ragged, rough breathing.
Was it his?
Sariel’s?
It might have been both.
Seymour grunted as Sariel pulled the muscles out from his body, and he was left gaping. He felt so empty now and he whined, no real words but a plea for more, swirling his tongue around the muscle in his mouth.
“Look at you,” Sariel whispered. “So eager for Daddy, hmm?”
Seymour bucked his hips.
“I could keep you waiting like this for hours.” Sariel traced the rim of Seymour’s wet hole. “Trembling, shaking, right on the verge of insanity as you beg for my cock…”
“Yes, yes, please.” Seymour nearly smacked the wall. “Please. Come on, Daddy. Fuck me up. I need it right fuckin’ now.”
“Then you shall have it.” Sariel’s cock was now there, the pointed tip slipping around in all the lube.
“Sometime this century?”
Sariel clapped his hand against Seymour’s ass, spanking him firmly.
“Ah, fuck!” Seymour gasped, grinding against the tile. “Sorry, Daddy. Mmm, just… I just need you so bad.”
