Page 6 of These Thoughts Are Not Your Own

“I – I – yes, please,” Alden says.

“Follow,” Bhalka says. A heavy hand finds Alden's hips, and he's flipped over to his stomach. The stone floor is cold and grits against him, and Bhalka makes a noise of displeasure. “This will not do.”

Suddenly Alden is being lifted as if his weight is nothing, his legs braced backwards against Bhalka's chest, and his ass pressing into Bhalka's face. The tip of his large nose is warm as it digs into the cleft of Alden's ass. Instinctively, Alden reaches up, grabbing the beam of the ceiling above him for balance, and Bhalka purrs his approval.

“Yes, perfect,” Bhalka says, and then his tongue slides between the cheeks of Alden's ass, and Alden's mind flips up through the levels of the house to fly away into the moonlit night. His knees lock under the arms that are supporting him, and rough fingers grip into Alden's waist as his own fingers dig into the old wood of the beam, and his cries fill the air of the basement. Bhalka's tongue finds the rim of his hole and slips deeper. Alden chokes on his breath as the slippery thickness of Bhalka's tongue plunges into him, and stars crackle across his vision.

“Fuck – please, oh, fuck, please, yes!”

Bhalka growls, and the sound reverberates up his spine, clutching at each vertebrae. Alden starts to thrust his hips, back and forth, desperate as the tongue investigates deeper and deeper – too deep to be human. He moans as it twists inside him. His cock is rock hard, jutting out in front of him, and dripping precome that falls from his precarious height on Bhalka's shoulders to splatter on the floor. Alden is so close and aches to stroke his cock, but he can't let go of the beam above him, his hands locked in place in boundless pleasure, his fingernails digging trails into the old punky wood.

Bhalka's tongue moves again, and Alden squeals as it rocks back and forth over his prostate. A trail of precome is dripping from him continuously now, and he feels one of Bhalka's hands leave his waist. When he looks down, Bhalka is catching the drip of his precome in his palm, the other arm holding him in the air with ease. The tongue inside him twists again, pressing down hard into his prostate, and Alden comes untouched with a shattered gasp, his hips jerking and his spine arching backwards. It seems to never end, as Bhalka's tongue thrusts and gyrates deeper into him, as if he knows exactly when and how to move and where to press to keep milking more and more come from Alden's body.

“I can't – ah – please,” Alden whimpers. “Oh!”

His cock twitches again, jerking towards the ceiling, and he looks down to see an impressive puddle of his come in Bhalka's big palm. He feels the slow extraction of the tongue from his hole, lips nibbling on his ass as it goes, and then watches as Bhalka's hand disappears where he can't see it. The hand returns to grasp his hip again, empty of his come and slightly damp. Alden is carefully lowered and swung around; now his legs are wrapped around Bhalka's waist, and he can feel the hard jut of Bhalka's erection pressing against his asscheeks.

“Delicious,” Bhalka says hoarsely. His eyes are alight, as if the flames of the extinguished candles have come back to light in them, and his cheeks are flushed and wet. “Better than my dreams of you.”

“You dreamed of me?” Alden says.

“Though I do not sleep,” Bhalka says, his hand moving up to cup Alden's cheek. “I did.”

Alden can't respond. He'd never dared to hope that anyone – anything – would ever dream of him. Alden surges up, wrapping his arms around Bhalka's neck, kissing him passionately, kissing him with the desire that burnt down every wall and left him here, bare in the arms that hold him. He can taste himself – the musky flavor of his ass and the salt of his come – mixed on Bhalka's lips with the primary taste of the bare elements of the universe. Bhalka returns the kiss with equal desire, his rough fingertips digging into the pale flesh of Alden's ass, holding him close and wrapping him in the strength of his arms.

“Alden,” Bhalka croons, followed by a litany of words Alden can’t translate.

“What – what does that mean?” Alden says. He speaks enough of the Old Speech to read it, to recite it for the ritual, but he's never heard this phrase before.

“You are my treasure,” Bhalka hisses, his teeth coasting up the thin skin of Alden's neck. “My treasure.” His fingers dig deeper into the cheeks of Alden's ass and then he's being lifted, his arms holding on to Bhalka's neck, and the slippery head of Bhalka's cock starts to press into his slicked hole. Alden moans, holding on tighter, his fingers digging into silky dark hair, and as he's breached by the thick head of the cock that was made for him, he's certain that this was worth it, even if it has cost him his soul. Bhalka moans along with him, sliding deeper, pressing intohim with a level of perfection that can only be granted to a being who can see him, inside and out, and Alden trembles in his arms.

“Please,” Alden begs. “I -”

“You want,” Bhalka says. “You want, and I want.” His tongue slides over Alden's throat, followed by teeth, as he holds Alden just so, only the thick head of his cock buried inside him, teasing with tiny motions of his hips and opening him. “I will give you everything, and I will have everything.”

Bhalka starts to move, thrusting deeper, and Alden's head lolls back on his neck. It's better than he'd ever imagined – perhaps, he thinks, dazed, it's better than it could have ever been otherwise. Inhumanly good. Strong hands grip his hips and hold him in the air, and though his legs are braced hard against Bhalka's hips and waist, he doesn't think it's necessary, as effortlessly as he'd been held aloft earlier. Alden is tilted forward to be kissed again, hot breath panting along his neck and the taste of minerals clear and bright on his tongue, and he lets himself drown in it as Bhalka rides him, pumping upwards until Alden is fully sheathed onto his cock.

“Fuck,” Alden chokes against Bhalka's lips. He's so full, his mind reeling. His cock has sprung back to partial hardness, rubbing against the smooth skin of Bhalka's stomach. One of Bhalka's hands leaves his hip and trails against his back to cup his head, locking fingers in his hair, steering his head forward to crush their lips together. Bhalka begins to move faster, his tongue slipping in and out of Alden's mouth at a pace that matches the pump of his cock into his ass, and Alden can feel his eyes rolling back in his head, his eyelids fluttering. It's too much, so much.

“So good for me,” Bhalka mumbles against his lips, kissing down his throat and back up to resume the pace, his voice switching to be just next to the side of Alden's ear again ashe continues to speak. “You think I made my cock for you, but I think you made yourself for me. Perfect treasure.”

Alden can't – can't hold back. Pleasure arcs through his body like a relay, dashing through his nerves at lightning speed. He curves backward in Bhalka's hand as if he's been drawn like the string of a bow, held steady as Bhalka leans forward with him, refusing to let Alden dodge a second of the orgasm that slams through him. “Bhalka – !” is all he manages to choke out, every muscle in his body tightening in a colossal release. Bhalka hums – hisses – growls in delight, a symphony of sounds that wrap Alden in a vocal embrace of his approval.

When Alden is shaking bonelessly against his chest, the tones of Bhalka's vocalizations shade deeper, into a rumbling laugh. “Feel again,” Bhalka says, and Alden feels an odd tingle sweep across his body. “niaga leeF,” Bhalka says, and Alden's mind rolls in unmitigated surprise as he feels the same orgasm, in reverse, just as Bhalka had done with the lantern.

It's mind-blowing. Alden's body flips through the motions of the best orgasm of his life backwards, and then forwards again, as if he's come not once, but three times in succession. His mind is a blank slate, swept clear by the strength of his climax and then shattered with the shock. Sweat drenches his body, and come is splattered all over Bhalka's chest, painting him all over up to the dip of his collarbones. He's shaking, wide-eyed and clinging to Bhalka, breathing too fast.

“You did not like this?” Bhalka says, sounding concerned.

“...was unexpected,” Alden wheezes. “Warn me, next time.”

Bhalka dips a finger into the come dripping down his chest and sucks it lazily from his finger, his eyelids fluttering in delight. “More to taste this way.” Alden does not have the time or focus to work through the impossible physics of this concept.Bhalka's fingers slide through the come and then press into Alden's mouth, rough fingertips dragging over his tongue, and then Bhalka starts to move again. Alden grips into his shoulders; he'd forgotten, in the haze of coming for minutes straight, that Bhalka hadn't come yet and is still buried inside him. Their chests press together, sticky come gluing them tight, and a big hand curls carefully around the back of Alden's neck.

Gently, he's ridden. Slowly. Bhalka moves inside him until Alden is practically weeping with pleasure and then keeps going until he is. Hot sobs tear from his lungs and he presses them into Bhalka's neck. He can't possibly come again and yet he's going to – he can feel the inexorable approach of his climax, building at the base of his spine with every pass over his sensitive prostate and the slip of his oversensitive cock caught between them. The deep resounding sensation of the thick cock moving inside him, his muscles gripping and grasping around it as he struggles, the fingers holding him tight and yet with such care - Alden has never been so saturated with pleasure in his life, and he cries out.

“Please,” he begs, “I – I can't – it's too much!”

“Shhh, my treasure,” Bhalka whispers. The hand on the back of Alden's head cradles him closer, and Bhalka speeds up, drawing weak cries from him. Bhalka's other hand tightens on him, and then he's gasping, plunging as deeply as he can. Alden feels the heated spurt of liquid deep inside him, and his body follows Bhalka over the edge, as if his orgasm was so powerful that Alden was dragged into its gravitational pull. His muscles lock and his knees dig into Bhalka's muscular waist, and the sounds they make together are truly strange. Alden's voice is broken and hoarse, and Bhalka joins him with bestial grunts of satisfaction. Bhalka sounds animalistic and territorial, as if the very sounds he makes will soak into Alden's skin and mark him as claimed.

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