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duplicitymemes2021-11-10 08:44 pm
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2021-11-10 08:44 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #21
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It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy. This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses. To counteract the discovery of the Deceit Gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the L.I.E.S. program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the Deceit Gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from L.I.E.S. after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues. ... and you’re here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity. After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a paper gown to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of orientation. If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You’re a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your highrise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You’re a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you’ll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms. Enjoy your free time until orientation! Participation is mandatory by all new and old arrivals. Autumn is in full swing and the weather is cool and damp. |
 After stepping through the door and participating in orientation, LIERS are assembled together in the Up for a tour of Duplicity in its entirety. Seats are in pairs and randomly assigned to Dominants and Submissives alike. Traveling from Fiddler's Square, the train journeys through various parts of the Up, showcasing society and examples of lifestyle. Along the way, frequent stops are made; a variety of passengers can be seen exiting and entering the doors. A Dominant with a kneeling Submissive takes a seat near the front of the train at one stop. A small group of Submissives board and sit closer to the LIERS at another, all seemingly content in their roles. As the tour continues through the Up, the train passes close to the Market and White Wall Bridge and zips by North Park before heading into the Down and bypassing Red Wall Bridge and South Park. The train makes a "final" stop at Riddler's Square, where inhabitants of the Down are instructed to return to their temporary housing. Those who live in the Up are permitted to stay on the train and revisit the same locations while returning. |
 (cw: coercion)With the days growing shorter and the weather chillier, LIEs has decided to partner with a popular hotel chain in Duplicity to showcase its new themed rooms and encourage those who have recently arrived to get warm and cozy (if not hot and heavy) with one another. Rather than taking place on site at one of the hotels, a demo area has been set up in the Orientation building for a limited time, making use of three of its many empty rooms, transforming them for lucky pairs to enjoy. Of course it's not just new arrivals who are expected to participate—both current and graduated participants may find themselves roped in as well, paired off with fresh new faces or familiar ones. Pairings are randomized, though always a Dominant and a Submissive, and the demo sessions last 1-2 hours. There are three different themed rooms to try — Azure, Malachite, and Scarlet — each with a distinct color palette. Though they vary in decor and amenities, all three have a queen sized bed, en suite bathroom, minibar (stocked with aphro treats), complimentary aphro mints on the pillow, and a standard array of sex toys to choose from (dildos, vibrators, plugs, cock rings, etc.) Each room will also have its own special atmospheric effect on characters, though how strongly it will influence their desires may vary from person to person. All those who participate will receive coupons for a discounted stay at the actual hotel chain if they wish to book a room overnight after enjoying the demo rooms. 'Tis the season, after all, to indulge in one's deepest, darkest desires. |
 (cw: aphro, dubcon, potential for various kinks including but not limited to age play, pet play, other types of roleplay, medical kink, bondage, temperature play, electrostimulation, large insertions, and monster dicks) The Azure Room is decorated in sleek futuristic style with blue lighting and lots of clean lines. The walls and ceiling are mirrored and most furniture, aside from the bed and certain… specialty items, is made of glass. The bathroom is tiled in dark blue and features both a glass-walled shower with multiple adjustable and detachable showerheads and a freestanding bath filled with ice water. All sorts of toys, kinky implements, costumes, and accessories are available for use—including, of particular note, a large collection of brightly colored silicone dildos with unconventional shapes reflecting alien or monstrous anatomy. Dragon dicks? Of course. Tentacle dildo? You bet. Some of these even have a special base that allows them to be connected to various fucking machines in place of the standard attachments. A padded leather exam chair (blue, naturally) with ankle stirrups and a ceiling-mounted sex swing round out the room's more niche furnishings. Upon entering, both characters will feel a general willingness to experiment. They may feel especially drawn toward roleplay (of various kinds), pet play, leather/lace/latex clothing fetishes, temperature play (ice or wax), medical kink, or electrostimulation—but really, anything goes. This room is all about broadening one's horizons and it has a little something for everyone. |
 (cw: altered mental states, aphro, dubcon, service (sexual or domestic), bondage, human furniture, face-sitting/forced oral, orgasm control/denial, master/servant roleplay, shaving kink)The Malachite Room is stunningly opulent with ornately carved dark wooden furniture, rich fabrics, and damask wallpaper. There's a crown motif running through many of the designs and nearly everything that isn't wood or metal is some shade of green. The bed is a massive four poster with an emerald green canopy, and directly across from it sits a lavish velvet throne. The bathroom boasts a large sunken tub with an array of soaps, scented bubble baths, and massage oils lined up within easy reach. A selection of toys are laid out on silver serving trays on the dresser: butt plugs with jeweled bases and glass dildos, the aesthetic ranging from elegant to outright gaudy. Silk scarves are draped across another tray along with neatly-looped bundles of rope. The throne, upon closer inspection, has a semi-circular opening in the seat cushion and a fabric sling below where someone lying beneath it might rest their head. When a pair enters the room, one will feel an inclination toward service and submission, while the other will feel the desire to be served or simply exert control. They may wish to engage in master/servant or royalty roleplay, body worship, massage, bondage, human furniture kink, shaving/washing/grooming kinks, orgasm control/denial, and other kinks of a similar nature. The role each character feels inclined toward does not have to match their designation, e.g. a Dominant might feel the urge to get on their knees. |
 (cw: altered mental states, aphro, dubcon, sadomasochism, bondage, caging/confinement, humiliation) The Scarlet Room is, well, vibrantly scarlet, with mood lighting to match. The style is closer to a dungeon than a hotel room, though still a luxurious one—all red leather upholstery and gleaming stainless steel. The bed sits inside a floor-to-ceiling circular metal cage with a door that latches from the outside. The bathroom has no door, leaving it in full view of the rest of the room at all times. In addition to the basic amenities, it also features a heart-shaped jacuzzi. A padded table with attached restraints and a smaller cage underneath, a spanking bench, and an x-frame bondage cross make up most of the other furniture. One wall is dedicated to a rack of toys and equipment, such as stainless steel dildos and plugs, sounding rods, anal hooks, spreader bars, rope, cuffs, chastity devices, clothespins and nipple clamps, gags, hoods, blindfolds, paddles, whips, floggers, crops, and canes. There is also a small selection of knives and tools for branding. When a pair enters this room, one will feel an inclination toward dishing out punishment and the other will feel a desire to be punished. These sadomasochistic urges can take many forms, such as impact play, knife play and/or blood play, branding, nipple/breast torture, genital torture, bondage, caging/confinement, and humiliation. The role each character feels inclined toward does not have to match their designation, e.g. a Submissive might wish to take a Dominant over their knee and spank them. |
 (cw: aphro/drugs)In a bid to boost local businesses, as well as make contracts, LIEs has partnered with the coffee chain Peek-A-Brew to help play matchmaker this time around. Along with the usual goodie bag, each character will be handed a small slip of paper after Orientation with a date and time, location, and three fun facts about a mystery partner they're to meet for a coffee date. These "facts" may or may not actually be true — they're simply meant to spark conversation. For the duration of the 1-2 hours the pairs are expected to spend getting to know one another, they will receive unlimited free coffee and tea and a discount on any other menu items. Naturally, all goods are spiked to make the consumers more agreeable, more truthful, and perhaps a bit more handsy than normal. Though the meetings are not mandatory, touching the paper brings on an inexplicable sense of curiosity about meeting their partner and discovering who they really are. |
Please read carefully. On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but assignments OOCly are still randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right." When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass." This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice. To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide: If your character prefers tea, they are a Submissive. If your character prefers coffee, they are a Dominant. To Note: Characters can only swap their designation for one of the following reasons: an event occurs that allows it or there are OOC reasons that make it a necessity. Any swap always requires mod approval and each character can only ever switch once. Characters that are being reapped will keep their previous designation but players can choose to use new TDMs with different designations for fun! Test Drive threads can be used as activity proofs for characters currently in-game. Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!! |
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Eyes alert, tracking the progress of Jack's hands, growing briefly wider when they reach his belt. A soft sound escapes Irving then, something between a groan and a sigh, agonized with yearning before he manages to choke it back.
With a sharp intake of breath, feeling slightly unsteady on his feet now, he takes a small step back and pulls his shirt from his shoulders (folding it in his arms with the mindlessly mechanical precision of someone who might be just somewhat overmeticulous even for military) and sets it aside, bringing his eyes back up to Jack's again. ]
No. [ With a small shake of his head, though it's actually in agreement to what Jack's just said: ] I haven't come up because I fear you, Rackham.
[ Irving's hands shake slightly as they hover in mid-air uncertainly, then drop back down at his sides, his gaze shifting briefly aside to nervously regard the bed, before he seems to screw up enough courage to reach out again, fingers pulling at Jack's buttons as moments before Jack had with his. ]
How do you wish to... how will you have me? [ He focuses on the shirt, not making eye contact. Softly, he adds: ] I will require your guidance.
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I can guide you. No need to worry.
[ Jack's tugging off Irving's belt as he says so, so perhaps, actually, there's a little reason to worry, but not any reason that hasn't already been agreed upon. He's not bad looking, despite not looking like much of a sailor. Not what Jack's might consider his type (though the ability to match wits or otherwise best him is more important than looks, in that regard), but he's tall, with wide eyes, and a boyish face underneath all that beard. He might have been charming, if not for the preaching.
It's with that pebble of a thought that he finally offers a real touch, a hand that starts on the back of his neck as if he's going to kiss him, before it slinks downward, over his chest, fingers gliding over the more vulnerable skin of his stomach, and finally groping him over his pants. ]
Let's get these off, eh?
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Overall, nothing a couple months of fully balanced, nutritious meals shouldn't put to right, surely.
Irving's eyes can't stop themselves either, now, from taking in whatever they can of Jack's body wherever the skin exposes itself, the wiry muscle and angular points of bone that stand out from below his flesh, the network of scars-- gaze lingering in particular on what almost appears to be the remains of a Navy tattoo, which Irving only just stops himself from brushing his thumb over. He would never be able to speak to "type," himself, Irving still lacking in both the experience and the self-perception to have even accepted his want for men at all, let alone any kind of specific types of men. There may be no others; obviously, Irving doesn't take for given that this won't simply be the first and still only time he's ever intimate with one.
Maybe any other man's touch would also threaten to undo him, much like Jack's touch is doing now, but Jack's touch is also all he has.
Suppressing a shiver, Irving bends down to step, first, out his shoes, then his pants, nearly nude now but for the threadbare long johns he's got on underneath. He reaches for Jack's belt with shaking hands, fumbling it open, though hesitating before he can do the same with Jack's pants, the last defense between Irving and the point of no return.
Quietly, as his eyes flick upward to Jack's: ]
Have you ever done anything like this before either, Rackham?
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[ That's the shred of truth that might just make this whole charade believable. Jack's been here just enough to know what he's doing, and no more. Perhaps that'll be just the right amount of reassurance, that he's got some experience without being such a reckless hedonist that a God-fearing man might question their association. ]
Come on. You can touch me too, get yourself used to it.
[ Jack steps backwards toward the bed with a grip on Irving's arm. He pulls the belt through its loops and drops it to the floor, along with his pants. No long johns or anything else beneath them, leaving the fearsome pirate nude except for the thin little scarf tied loosely around his neck. There's nothing to suggest he isn't perfectly comfortable with it, too, the way he sits back on the bed so casually, half-hard out of curiosity more than anything, and gestures for the other man to join him with a twist of his finger. ]
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He's seen naked men before, of course. As a navy man, Irving has probably seen more naked men per day than an average man will see in a lifetime, man or woman; on a boat it's simply a given there will be more than a few eyefulls of cock, that men will be touching each other companionably, embracing, even dancing together-- it just comes with the territory. As with all things, what ultimately makes the difference is context.
Irving lets his gaze drift over Jack's body again, eyes glassy now with a desire he's finally no longer able to keep hiding, and hesitantly reaches to trace his shaking fingers, feather light, over the angular landscape of Jack's torso, over scars and the mangled remnants of that tattoo. There's something oddly comforting to Irving that Jack's body is in many ways so familiar to what he already knows, yet still a stranger's body, someone Irving has no past with, nor ostensibly any present or future with either.
He shifts slightly, his own half-mast erection an aching swell beneath the confines of his long underwear, but Irving's focus isn't there yet, his touch still drifting lower down Jack's stomach as if in a trance. ]
How's that feel?
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A man, it hardly needs saying, that is nothing like John Irving. Jack has to force himself to be patient while Irving makes his tentative little explorations, his touch soft and hesitant like a virgin, because of course it is. It makes him squirm, but it's more of a tickling feeling than an arousing one. He's hoping it passes as the latter. ]
You can be firmer. I sure intend to be.
[ His hand rifles through the drawer on the bedside table, where he's taken for granted the only sure thing he has found in Duplicity - there is always lube. Once he's sure enough, he drops the tube onto the bed and reaches for Irving instead, pulling him closer by underwear and tugging down in swift motion. ]
Kick those off, turn around, and I'll show you what you've been missing.
[ His voice is firm, but low like a growl, time to take the chance that Irving's attraction to him in the first place means he won't be opposed to a little indelicate treatment. ]
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You-- yes. [ His eyes land on the lube, more curious than alarmed, although he can guess as to what it's meant for. He swallows, voice soft, but steady: ] Firmness should be rather preferable here, I think. It seems only... appropriate, so that I will be sure to remember this encounter with utmost clarity.
[ Maybe not for the reasons any normal person should want to, but hey, he's a freak, so... anyway...
Heart beating with dizzying force in his chest now, Irving scrambles to tug his underwear the rest of the way off and past his ankles, tossing it aside and then turning over before he can overthink things any further, having already barely given much thought -- deliberately, mind -- to the specific whats they'd be engaging in as it is. He leans his weight on his knees, breathing in and out slow, heavy breaths. ]
And-- warn me first, please, Rackham. If you plan on leaving behind any marks.
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In fact, there's something about how naturally he assumes his position that excites him. All that outrage and pearl clutching ground to dust the second he's told to stick his ass out, he just does it, and it lights a fire under Jack, making his dick hard just wondering what he can get away with. Helps that he's got a nice ass.
Jack spanks it with one sharp slap, and then pulls back to squirt the lube on his fingers. He rubs them together, making sure they're nice and slick, and presses his middle finger to Irving's hole - not inside, but enough to get him used to the sensation, massaging in wet little circles. ]
Marks? [ Who said anything about marks? ] I can smack your ass with the belt instead, if that's what you're craving.
[ Whore. ]
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Heart pounding loudly, Irving presses a palm over his face when Jack slaps his ass, fighting to bite back a moan-- to bury it, at least, so that it can't be heard. His body hasn't quite yet made up its mind whether it wants to tense or melt beneath each touch that follows, but he draws his trembling legs further apart in an effort to ease the process, hips rocking against Jack's fingers with all the pent-up neediness of someone desperately (perhaps even slightly pathetically) touch-starved.
Then, nodding, as if it's a given: ]
Whatever you do, [ He pants again, swallows. Keeps his head down. ] Take pains not to break through the skin, if you can.
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Relax. This will be uncomfortable to start with, but I can make it good if you aren't so tense.
[ Won't be good for anyone if Irving's squeezing the life out of him, but now that he's warned, Jack pushes a finger inside, nice and slow, other hand squeezing his ass to spread the cheeks apart. When he's sure the other man isn't about to pass out, he starts moving it in and out, biting his lip and watching, rubbing the cheek up to the lower back to keep him soothed and relaxed. ]
If the belt is something you want, you need to ask me nicely for it.
[ Jack's not particularly inclined to do so, really. He's seen the damage that was done to Anne and doesn't wish to replicate it, even on Irving, but if it's something he needs half as much as he needs Jack's fingers in him, he can oblige. ]
I'm just as happy to get on with fucking you.
[ Jack plucks a ring off a second finger, tossing it onto the table, and then it joins the first, pushing into Irving and giving him a good stretch. ]
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What he also can't deny is that what he wants even more is the pleasure. Just once, just once, he wants it so much that part of him feels inches away from weeping with gratitude for it, and this is only still nothing more than Jack's fingers yet.
He breathes in sharply, like a gulp, burying a more undignified noise behind his hand as he wills his body to relax for Jack, an effort that is easier said than done (relaxation isn't something that comes easily to John Irving even at the best of times) but that he commits himself to now. ]
Please, then-- [ He agrees quickly, softly, so that he won't embarrass himself further by moaning. ] P-please, go ahead-- f-fffuh--
[ Nope. Somehow he still can't bring himself to curse. He needs to shut himself up before he blurts out something else like use me instead. ]
I'm ready.
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[ What Irving needs, is to quit covering his mouth. Jack reaches for the belt after all, but he doesn't strike him with it. Instead, he pushes the other man's head down, and collects his wrists behind his back to fasten the thin black leather around them. He twists the material around his hand and gives it a tug - firm and secure.
Irving isn't ready. Jack can tell, he's still too tense, but he can fix that. The point is to give it to him so good, that he questions his entire existence, not to have him screaming and bleeding all over the mattress. Though his experience with men might not be extensive (but likely moreso than Irving's experience period), he's been on the receiving end of this plenty of times, with Anne. He knows where to push, where to curl his fingers to pull him apart, and he does it, prodding at him over and over again, enjoying the feeling of power it gives him, the sight of his fingers being swallowed up inside the other. Fuck. ]
Tell me. Tell me you need it, Irving.
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He benefits somewhat from their positioning, at least, unable to see Jack at all unless he were to actually turn his head to look over his shoulder, which is soothing compared to the alternative of being made to look him in the eye-- apart from how obviously shameful that would be, Irving doesn't want Jack to see exactly how red his face has grown, feverishly warm, how glazed and stupid with desire his gaze must look, especially if he must be made to put that desire into words. ]
I-- [ He takes another shaky, gulping breath, a whimper, trying to keep his voice steady. ] I'm--
[ A moan interrupts him, sudden and aching and undignified, his legs jerking in place and back arching responsively to how Jack's just moved his fingers. ]
I wouldn't be offering myself to you at all if some part of me didn't... if I didn't-- didn't n-need it. Rackham. [ It's painful for him to say, and it shows. ] I-if only just to finally know for certain.
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He's squeezing more lube out and slathering it on his cock as he gets Irving to speak, either satisfied with his request or just too impatient to give a damn, who knows? It's a victory to get it out of him, because painful or not, he's said it. Even if Jack's ears are the only ones around to hear it, he can't take it back now. ]
I think you already know. I think next time, you'll be begging.
[ He gives Irving's ass another slap, harsher this time, and wet from the leftover lube on his hand, before he lines himself up, and slowly pushes in. He hisses, still for a moment as he gets used to the tight heat, gripping Irving's thigh to keep him still. ]
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Irving whimpers again, objections and denial building in his throat about how obviously there can't, won't be any "next times," but he surprises himself by biting the words back and swallowing them harshly down, forcing the illusion of whatever future may lie between them to remain ambiguous, for reasons he wouldn't be able to explain and doesn't want to understand. ]
Oh-- [ He says it like a gasp, like he's surprised. ] My-- m-my Lord...
[ He only just manages to soften the blasphemy from "God" to "Lord," although that doesn't lessen his shame for having let it slip out at all, and over something like this...? No wonder he's in Hell; it's truly unforgivable.
What's more is that, at the moment, he can hardly even hold onto that thought long enough to care about it, if anything feeling that the blasphemy might be the only way to put words to what he's feeling, the pleasure (sinful pleasure, he distractedly corrects himself) and ache of being gradually filled inch by inch. ]
Please, [ he murmurs hoarsely, apparently already prepared to beg. ] There is no need to be so delicate with me.
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If you insist. Since you were kind enough to say please.
[ Now that he's in, he doesn't need to be told twice. Jack pulls out, and adjusts his stance on the bed, before snapping his hips forward and thrusting back inside, harder and quicker. Irving's so tight that he has to ease himself into it, but he gets there, leaning over the other's body and gripping his shoulders for leverage, using his weight to push him into the mattress as he picks up the pace. His breathing quickens with the lewd sound of skin slapping together, pleasure building that he, at least, won't be ashamed for feeling. ]
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Irving actually prefers it this way, the aspect of prolonging his own discomfort by withholding from himself, be it pleasure or relief; even just the illusion of having the discipline to keep the needs of his body, his urges, contained, keeps him fulfilled in a more lasting way than sexual release ever has.
Though, that being said, none of his sexual experiences before now have been particularly groundbreaking to him in the first place, whereas this encounter has had him nearly mindless with yearning long before they'd even undressed-- Irving's not so obtuse so as not to understand why that is, either, as much as he typically prefers his denial, but having come this far, at least while he's still here in the moment he allows himself, this once, the indulgence of letting go just a little more. ]
O-oh-- [ He groans again, voice cracking on the word. ] Oh! M-my Go-- my G-g--
[ That's twice, almost. He may not be able to control all what comes out of his mouth at the moment, but at least this time he managed to catch himself while he could still choke it back.
Irving also doesn't notice, but he's been getting steadily louder, not at all the stoic, breath-punctuated silence he'd have preferred to project, or anything else that wouldn't make quite so plain the fact he's enjoying this -- rather than simply enduring it -- as the increasing volume and frequency of the sounds he's been making very clearly does. ]
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He adjusts, along with the other's desperate, sinful mewling, and yanks the belt to bring him closer, his back to Jack's chest. So much more hot skin is a heady sensation that riles him up more and wears on his patience, but he can bear it. If only just. ]
Look at me.
[ Jack takes a firm grip on Irving's chin, turning it towards him to get a good long look at the glassy, fucked-out expression in his eyes. Finding it highly satisfactory, he moves to push his fingers into his mouth, breathing hot into his face as he thrusts up into him. ]
Get them nice and wet for me.
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His hair hangs over his forehead in ruffled, sweaty clumps, face flushed and eyes wet, as unfocused as if he were delirious with fever. Breath shaking, Irving's jaw tenses and his teeth grit, gaze burning briefly with something almost like resentment for being made to look Jack in the eye during the height of this spectacle of shame.
Then, shifting his eyes away, he bites his lower lip, wets both the lower and the upper with his tongue, before finally letting them part hesitantly for Jack's fingers even without knowing what Jack intends to further do with them. He whimpers and groans around them, coughs slightly, drool leaking down his chin and eyes questioning, wide, before they clamp shut against the intensity of Jack's stare. ]
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[ Irving doesn't have to wait too long before he reveals his intentions. He lets him suck on his fingers for a bit, which he should be grateful for, something to stifle his groaning. It's a lurid, delicious visual, lips parting to accept his fingers and his tongue lapping them up, but it's a means to an end, a way to make sure Jack's hand is nice and comfortable when it reaches down to grasp Irving's cock.
They're beyond teasing, so he doesn't bother, just straight to jerking him off to the quick pace of his thrusts. He leaves the belt alone, and wraps that arm around Irving's middle instead, another charged point of contact, to keep him seated at the right angle, just where he needs to be now for as long as he can hold out. Not too much longer, he's sure, it's harder to remain stoic. Jack makes his pleasure known with deeper, unmuffled grunts and growls, a soft fuck here and there muttered into the other's ear, breath hot enough to melt steel.
Better than he would have given the man credit for, when they met downstairs all of an hour ago. ]
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Why the touch surprises Irving as much as it does, he really isn't sure, just that he isn't anticipating it at all -- neither the one on his cock or the one around his middle -- and cries out sharply with surprise, struggling not to simply dissolve wholeheartedly into the sensation; he's been ignoring the throbbing ache of his untouched cock for so long he'd almost forgotten he still hasn't come yet, having grown accustomed to denying himself that particular relief.
Irving presses his face to Jack's shoulder, buries it there in what would almost pass for a sort of improvised embrace if he had any of his own arms free, but it's better that he doesn't; the sex is one thing, somehow Irving can see himself overcoming (through much hard work and prayer) and being forgiven for the transgression of sodomy, but embraces are more intimate things, and the sensuous grunts and murmurs against Irving's ear, hot against his skin, are already dangerously intimate as it is.
He tries to clear his mind of anything but Jack's hand working his cock with quick, effortless strokes, and naturally still Jack's cock that still hasn't quite finished with Irving yet, that Irving rocks himself on in an awkward synchronicity with the pace he's being jerked off. ]
Y-you like it.
[ He observes -- it's not intoned as if he's asking -- peeking over from how he's pressed his face against the crook of Jack's neck, his voice soft, though there's a pleased edge to it he can't fully suppress. Not just that Jack is enjoying it, but rather, that something Irving's been doing also seems to be appealing to him somehow, and Irving has not ever really taken a moment to properly consider how it might feel to be desired like this (or in any way) by another man. ]
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I do...you look good, taking my cock.
[ He punctuates it with a particularly rough thrust, to prove his point more than out of concern about the intimacy of it all. Their bodies pressed together, the brief glimpse of eye contact, the breathy voice in his ear, the hand sliding over to Irving's hip, guiding him through the up and down...it's part of a task. A depraved and pleasurable task, but a task nonetheless, rendering any intimacy between them temporary, or imagined. If he can help it, Irving won't know anything more about him at the end of this than he did in the start, besides the way his cock feels fucking into him.
Jack picks up the pace with his hand, and mouths over the other's neck, dragging his teeth across the delicate skin until he gets to Irving's earlobe. He gives it a sharp tug and a whispered demand. ]
Come for me, John.
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And though what Jack offers him is certainly not a compliment, despite himself, Irving still feels some vague, indiscernible gratification for hearing it. His gaze travels again in appreciative, raking sweeps over the planes and sharp edges of Jack's body, for his own lack of being able to return the sentiment in words, too afraid of what he might say if he tried.
He yelps loudly, tensing briefly but then relaxing when Jack's mouth lands against his neck and grazes it with teeth rather than kisses, leaning into and savoring the sting of it much like how he continues rocking his hips clumsily into each harsh, aggressive thrust so that their hips collide, rather than move in a more rhythmic synchronicity.
Groaning softly, panting with the overwhelming and heady dizziness of his impending climax, Irving shakes his head dazedly, turning his glazed and unfocused eyes toward Jack's. ]
You first.
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He holds Irving still, fucking him through it and making a right mess of it, touching him to the wet, lewd sounds of it. The jolt of pleasure is undeniable, unlike plenty of other things about this encounter, if it ever gets out he'll be forced to own up to one thing, at least: yes, he fucking enjoyed it. ]
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J-- uh--
[ He catches himself, just barely, from panting out Jack's name (and his Christian name, at that) on a moan, voice dissolving once again into needy, indecent noise as he presses his warm face back against Jack's shoulder. ]
You--
[ But that sentence breaks too, cracking like ice almost as soon as it's out of his mouth. Irving had obviously already been very near coming, himself, but he feels the way his cock reacts almost immediately with a sharp, tremulous twitch in Jack's hand right, pre-come leaking onto the pirate's fingers, right after Jack unloads-- how it's the obscene, sloppy mess left inside him and dripping down his thighs that finally makes Irving's head go silent with ringing white noise, makes him cry out with a loud but muffled wail, as his orgasm is finally coaxed out sharply in an abrupt, sticky spill.
Panting, still groaning and shifting himself on Jack's cock, whimpering softly against his neck, Irving takes his time drawing back, eyes wide and slightly alarmed; he enjoyed it too, a lot, that much could not be more clear, and he wears that knowledge on his face now like pain. ]
D-don't-- Rackham, you can't tell anyone about this. No one can know that this-- th-that I... [ His voice is quiet, with an edge of desperation, yet also vaguely scolding, too: he's not asking. ] Not a soul. Do you understand?
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