Usually Hanzo comes prepared for his hunts. He’ll have a nice room picked out, and a mirror placed at the exact spot that he’ll need it.

He’ll have towels ready and bottles of water close at hand. 

He’ll have a camera set up to enjoy the footage later.

This time had been too sudden; too spontaneous for any of it. He’d not expected the need to jump him and bite into him. He’d not expected his business partner to be so perfect.

He figures what did him in was the heavy gut hanging over the belt. The ostentatious rings biting into the flesh of short, thick fingers. The soft cheeks trembling with every motion of the head.

All contributing to him luring his victim into a seedy hotel with bad lighting and smelly sheets.

Just him and a crappy cracked mirror that’s angled badly and shows too little of the action.

He has to roll his eyes until they hurt in their sockets, but he needs to see it.

Above him, Miller is breathing loud and labored. Every now and then he tries to push himself up onto his elbows; wants to see the handsome man kneeling between his thick legs – yet every time he halts half-way through and sinks back down with a low groan.

Hanzo has to use a hand to push Miller’s gut out of the way, and to get at his cock, but his price is all the better for it: dick short and fat; bumpy in places with irregular veins. A brick red tip that looks similar to the shade his cheeks have reached after Hanzo divested himself of his clothes.

It’s an ugly cock, but it couldn’t be more gorgeous for Hanzo.

He watches himself in the mirror; well-kempt and in absolute top-shape; suckling the man’s inferior dick like a candy treat.

He fantasizes about riding him; grunt fucking himself on the girth of Miller’s cock; the large, soft belly pressing into him, making everything awkward.

Maybe he’d allow him to fuck him from behind; rest his gut on the small of Hanzo’s back. Have his sweaty, thick fingers grope his hips and tight belly and firm pecs.

He wants it – wants it bad – but he wouldn’t be able to watch himself, too. The frustration makes tears well up in his eyes. He feels like Miller would be perfect; command him around. Use him like a fuck puppet – like Hanzo wasn’t leagues above him. 

Hanzo would go along with it, too. Revel in it. If only he could see himself… body greedy for an inferior, ugly cock; twisting unnaturally to make it easier on him to dick him down…

He almost sobs in his frustration, chest burning, hand cruel on his own erection – lamenting how he is a slave to his whorish needs.