“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” Reinhardt purrs, thick fingertips rounding the soft gape of Reaper’s hole again and again. It’s warm to the touch; almost sickly so, the insides clinging and wet when he pushes just the tips inside.
“Get in,” Reaper hisses, black haze wafting from the corners of his mouth. His fingers are digging into the meat of his thighs, clamped just behind his knees, using his grip to fold himself into a neat little package. He’s a good boy, even though he likes to forget his manners if things aren’t going his way.
Reinhardt ignores it magnanimously. He crooks his fingers to feel the silky give of his insides and watch how the feral gnash of his teeth loosens, lips going a little slack and pupils blowing wide when he gets the first taste of what he wants.
“Sweet boy,” Reinhardt murmurs, rubbing his insides in little circular motions before he replaces them with his cock – the tip fatter and more satisfying, if Reaper’s reaction was anything to go by: he actually starts cooing low and soft, an almost purring as the tension bleeds from his body and his cock flexes where it lies heavy and drooling against his belly.
He looks peaceful when he gets deep dicked, a thick cock sliding in deep and patiently slow. Reinhardt is enough of a hedonist to want to enjoy the capitulation of his team mate.
“That’s it. You love cock, don’t you? Yesss just like that. You got the sweetest little peach just for me…”
He replaces Reaper’s hands with his own, the large palms warm as they cup the backs of the thick thighs, spreading them just a little more to have better leverage as he starts to rock; small, self-indulgent thrusts that have Reaper almost gurgling, belly shivering with his little gasps of breath.
“Pretty boy,” Reinhardt praises low, chin against his chest, watching Reaper’s cock flex out more sticky pre-cum. “Kleiner Liebling.”
Cyberrat Writes 