The Bear and the Wizard for bearcoded

[tangledweave]

Following his first encounter with Halsin, the verbal components of Gale's spells had taken on a rougher, husky edge for a whole day after. It probably hadn't been noticeable to any of their companions, but that coarse scratch at his vocal cords had recalled to him the way the druid's trunk of a cock had been positively crammed down his throat the evening before. He almost wished for it not to heal.

It seems that the same evening hasn't only been on his mind, going by the messages exchanged with Halsin tonight. Incredibly arousing messages, which have left him aching to the point of either inability or unwillingness to move, until he relieves himself of this heavy, throbbing burden. And he won't be alone, as it seems that Halsin is keen to lend him a helping hand.

Under the safe cover of his tent, Gale is sprawling in his scattering of bedding and soft cushions. Naked, a slight sheen of sweat glitters under light cast from a couple of conjured orbs, that float beneath the canopy. A cotton sheet is bunched and lays partially over him, yet his straining hardness is free from the sheet, bobbing lightly over his belly. Untouched. Gale's eyes fix on the entrance to his tent, anticipating Halsin joining him. He won't start without him.

Comments

[tangledweave]

Halsin's gaze may have been locked with Gale's as he stroked himself, but Gale's own attention flitted with each hammering beat of his heart. The look that Halsin gave him was so intense that he felt like he was being eaten alive, devoured by that gaze alone. Gale wanted so desperately to hold it, to welcome the way he knew the huge elf would take him apart piece by piece, like a ravenous bear picking through a roast meat. But how could he? Not when Halsin was stroking his cock, knuckles passing over the thick and veiny length, making that trunk shimmer with dripping oil. God's, Gale wanted to feel it shoved into him, too big and yet slick enough to make it fit.

He whined as the druid got into position, the broadly blunt head pressing against his entrance. Instantly, Gale felt the contrasting messages of his stretched hole relaxing against it, welcoming and needing more, while every other instinct in his body screamed to resist, to contract and refuse something that would surely tear him apart.

There was no choice in it, really. The weight of the other rested against him, into him. Gale's voice shook as he let out a breathy moan, his eyes falling closed.

Stretched. And stretched. And stretched. Gale sucked in breath in sharp little gasps, as he willed himself to relax. He felt the give of the flare of Halsin's cockhead as it pushed past his ring, and he had an overwhelming, almost hysterical moment, feeling as if that was it; that was him tied to Halsin now with no escape. Not that he wanted escape.

"Fuck. You're so big. Don't stop. Fill me, please. Gods." He reached out blindly, hand resting on a muscled bicep, his other reaching for the back of Halsin's neck to pull him closer, and deeper. "You're going to destroy me." The deep, rumbling desire was clear in his voice. He wanted this, badly.