heiresy (
heiresy) wrote in
dutyroulette2016-11-09 04:28 pm
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The Next Morning (Francel & Aymeric)
[The crisp morning brought out the flush in Aymeric's cheeks as his hot breath hung in the air in front of him. He smoothed his coat and brushed a piece of hair from his face before he rapped on the House Haillenarte's front door. He supposed that he could have sent a courier to deliver the costume piece, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?
He was a little confused with his actions, but nevertheless. It was too late to turn back now... And it wasn't as if he was afraid or that this could be a bad idea...
He greeted the surprised manservant at the door with a warm smile and a politely worded request for Lord Francel.]
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[He gropes Francel through his pants, using his other hand to pull Francel's jaw up to kiss and nip hungrily at the soft flesh. Aymeric found that he was learning a lot of new things about himself with Francel as a bed fellow.]
Shall I make you polish my sword, remove the plate mail from my shoulders, and rub salve into my wounds after a hot bath?
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[francel cannot hide the naked desire in his voice when he gives that assent; greedily he presses his cock into aymeric's groping fingers, and he tilts his neck to allow the man as much access to his lips and neck as he wants. he's just so open, so eager to receive aymeric's every whim and desire — but it's nice that he can be responsive, too, at least in that francel puts the book down and slides one hand down along aymeric's perfect jawline.]
I would do all that and more for you, my love.
[and, seamlessly, he shifts from the marriage roleplay into the knight-and-squire scenario.]
Would you have me call you 'ser'? Or perhaps... 'my lord'?
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[He places a few more kisses on his neck and gives his cock a squeeze before pulling back.]
As my squire then, you are to help me undress. For I am battle-weary. Then you are to tend to my sore flesh.
[He began undressing already. His noblemen's clothing was doing a terrible job of keeping the illusion here. And he was sore and weary, though from his desk chair and long hours standing in the courts and arguing... ]
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[the nobleman's clothing works just as well, honestly. francel happily takes aymeric's heavy fur coat, handling it with all the reverence he might give an actual piece of plate armor; he folds it delicately over the side of the chaise.]
Your armor is ever so heavy, ser. Your shoulders must be so tense.
[despite the tension in his pants, francel manages to be the picture of a demure and loyal squire as he takes aymeric's blue shirt as well, and places it alongside the coat.]
Perhaps you should flex your back muscles while you try to relax. Certainly not for my personal enjoyment, you understand.
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Do you spot any new wounds, dear Squire? Anything that should be tended to?
[In all honesty, there sort of was. Though the marks were older now, the burns from torture, the spars with his new friend Vedrfolnir, and several pink battle wounds were laced above his older scars. While they were in no danger for infection and the ache had left, perhaps a bit of lotion on the scars would ease the tightness of them. That or a regular massage on his weary shoulders. Those hulking shoulder plates didn't carry themselves after all.]
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no good. no good. and anyway, aymeric is so much more than just his pretty face (and fantastic body). francel shakes his head and approaches the chaise, kneeling before his knight and inwardly praising halone for allowing him the blessing of aymeric's spread legs.]
Allow me to remove your boots, ser, and after that, I shall ease your tensions in any way I can.
[he takes his sweet time unbuckling aymeric's white shoes and placing them to the side. something about being able to handle a beautiful man's shoes excites him; he takes them off with the solemn dignity of a man at worship. in this position, it's tempting to ask aymeric to step on his cock and make a mess of him — but today aymeric is his knight, and francel the squire is determined to bring his lord some comfort.
there is a little drawer on the bottom of the chaise that would be almost impossible to spot if one didn't know to look for it. in days past, francel kept more innocent trinkets there; now, the drawer carries a respectable bottle of lotion that is generally used in less-than-respectable ways. francel takes this up and rises to his feet, pouring a generous amount of lotion into his hands.]
Would you prefer to have your massage lying down or sitting upright, Ser Aymeric?
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I always prefer to stretch out for these sorts of things. I can flip over when you feel you have finished with my back.
[Aymeric privately enjoys that this bit of role-play includes such sweet pampering. He should have gotten himself an insecure, man-loving noble years ago.]
You are a such a wonderful and loyal squire. What ever would I do without you?
[He peeks back at him with a smirk. Francel's reactions were so sweet. He thought that he should make him do this again and adorn him with squire's mail.]
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I am sure you would still be every inch the valiant knight you are, my lord.
[once aymeric is comfortable, francel sits on the chaise beside him. he takes his time to warm and smooth out the lotion in his hands before he begins massaging aymeric's shoulders and back — lightly at first, to accustom aymeric to the sensation, and then deeper, with more satisfying pressure. he's especially eager to tend to a knot that aymeric has at the nape of his neck, and sweetly irons out the tension aymeric is keeping there.
privately, to himself, francel counts out the scars on his lover's back. he takes his sweet time tending to them, careful to watch for any signs of discomfort from aymeric. francel is still nursing a (slightly softened though still obvious) bulge between his legs, but he seemingly doesn't pay it any mind as he allows himself the pleasure of running his hands over aymeric's body every which way he wants to.]
You... really have such an impressive body, ser. Please... tell me if you want me to pay special attention to any place in particular. I'll do anything you ask.
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[He gasps as that pesky knot has finally been widdled down. He lets out a soft, genuine moan. He feels his pants tightening as Francel's fingers move all over him. He considers for a moment where he truly is feeling some pain and has to chuckle. His lower back had been sore- not from swinging his great sword, but from his posture slackening late into the night as he worked.]
Remove my woolen hose, good squire, and continue your ministrations lower.
[This time, he really was wearing hose. Aymeric would have said they they were what he was used to and that they were comfortable. But he also knew how well they flattered his legs and showed off his gear while still falling under the guise of modest dress.
He flexes his lower back and buttocks, trying to rid himself of some of the tension waiting for Francel.]
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the temptation is just too great. before he can stop himself, francel's slapped aymeric's cute butt — more a gentle swat than a proper spank, really, but the point remains. gods, he's just got such a nice ass.
innocently, as he pulls the rest of the hose off:]
...Good for blood circulation, that.
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Is it indeed... [He continues to crane his neck to look at Francel. He spreads his legs, lifting his pelvis and tilting it, letting his hardening cock catch on the chaise to put it on display. But he does not address it. He thinks briefly that he would have never accepted this from a genuine squire- but as he sinks deeper into the fantasy, writing tales in his head about valiant tales of heroism and adventure-
He soon grew the littlest bit envious of Ser Vairevaux. ]
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francel gives all his attention to aymeric's shaft and head; when the friction isn't quite enough, francel pauses to apply a little more lotion into his hands. he makes sure it is thoroughly warmed before he continues pumping aymeric, leaning in to kiss him on the shoulder.]
Of course. I always have your best interests in mind, ser. I want you to come out of this completely relaxed. Is that not what I am here to ensure, as your squire?
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But of course, my charge. You're very talented as well. The best available I'd wager. And what sort of mentor would I be to leave you uncared for?
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shyly, francel pulls back and shrugs his bliaud off his shoulders, giving aymeric a perfect view of his naked torso. but he's cringing slightly — he's still not accustomed to revealing his body, and there's an uncertainty in the way he's looking into aymeric's eyes, as if begging him for reassurance.]
Oh, my lord... You needn't worry for me, ser. You know how I — how I love you — I would tend to you and ask nothing in return —
[the book's sweet squire says something similar... though he was also being fucked silly at the time.]
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I am a knight; I live to serve. [He flips Francel underneath him with ridiculous ease, pinning his wrists and rutting against him a bit more. He switches Francel's wrists into one hand as he pulls the snaps on his pants open. He gives his entire package a squeeze.]
And you, my beloved squire, I take pleasure over duty to serve.
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But I... I want to serve you...
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[he pulls Francel's pants off just enough. He pours lotion on his hands and slicks himself up. He positions and presses into him, hoping that he was still somewhat stretched from the night before. His breath hitches as he feels Francel's entrance give way.]
Fury, forgive us. [He whispers this, his eyes fixed on Francel to gauge his reaction, ]
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Yes, yes, yes, yes — please, keep going, Aymeric, please — I want you, I want this — I want you to ruin me, I want — please —
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He ups his speed and intensity fairly soon after. It was difficult to stay in check with such vehement and specific spurring, after all.]
And I could never ruin you.
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[that sweet and ceaseless begging is really something that only francel can offer; he looks like an angel and he moans like one, all blond lashes and flushed pink lips against the warm leather of the chaise.
francel returns the squeeze to aymeric's hand, closing his eyes as he lets himself ride the waves of pleasure that come with aymeric's greedy thrusting — and oh, this is much, much better than last night, the second fuck is always just so much better than the first, he wants more more more and he's going to plead until he's satisfied.]
Then make me — yours completely — oh, Aymeric — so much, there's so much of you...
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And you take all of me so well, my sweet squire. [He places a soft kiss on the corner of Francel's lips as he drinks in the sight. He hadn't had sex so brazenly in the morning before, and so had never seen his lover so clearly. It made Aymeric moan against Francel's neck as he dropped his head, the pleasure coursing through him.]
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the room itself is proof of all his years of pent-up lust, and by the fury is he going to get his satisfaction now.
he is most definitely still stretched out a bit from last night — but he's still squeezing hard and hot and lotion-wet against aymeric's cock, and he wraps his legs around the older man's slender waist while he nibbles at aymeric's plush bottom lip with all the tenderness of an innocent lover.]
G-Gods above, you already — a-already have me s-so close to ecstasy — oh, my lord, my dearest knight —
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He bites at Francel's lobe and whispers into his ear]
Come with me then, Francel.
[Partly, he said that because he couldn't hold on any longer himself. The build up had been incredible. Francel was deliciously tight, and the danger of being discovered welled the excitement in his belly. He came hard inside of Francel. His eyes rolled back as he closed them, his jaw hanging loose as his orgasm sent spasm through his core.]
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[he hits a peak so high that he thinks he might never be able to come down.
francel digs his nails into aymeric's back as he comes, panting and gasping in a soft broken voice that would make any hot-blooded listener want to fuck him again. it's the bite to his incredibly sensitive ear that sent him over the edge, and not the generous tugging of his cock — but it feels good and filthy and naughty to make a mess of aymeric's warm palm, and his cock twitches uselessly against aymeric's thumb once he's finished, wet and sticky between his legs and wet and sticky inside of him too.
good. good. once he's regained his senses, he reaches out to trace aymeric's jaw with his fingers, looking tired yet immensely satisfied.]
Gods... gods above, that was incomparable...
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[He gives Francel's cock an affectionate squeeze before pulling his hand away to minimize the mess. He holds it, claw like, palm facing up as he pulls out of Francel.]
Let us wash up and be on our way.
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