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Qifrey can’t explain exactly when or how it started.
Oh, but wait—he can.
He remembers it perfectly, actually. He was at the fair with the girls and Olruggio, and while the sky was perhaps a little too cloudy for his taste, the day was shaping up to be wonderful. While he waited for the girls to watch a little show with Olruggio, Qifrey stayed a short distance away, though right now he can’t remember exactly why—maybe he just wanted to capture a mental picture of the moment.
It’s not as if he could have done that anyway. A sweet old lady spoke to him at that moment, her words still a bit fuzzy in the back of his mind—perhaps because of the emotion he’s feeling right now—but at the time, they were somewhat… curious, to say the least.
“Are they your daughters? Oh, they look more like their mother than you.”
Maybe the old woman had some kind of vision problem—that was the most reasonable explanation—or perhaps she just had a somewhat strange sense of humor. Qifrey couldn’t help but reflect on those words: Did she think the girls were his daughters? No, wait, did she think the girls were his daughters AND Olruggio’s? It wasn’t a bad thing, of course—families come in all shapes and sizes and are never exactly alike—but there was something particularly amusing about her assuming the little girls were his and his partner’s, given how little they resembled each other.
But that wasn’t the only thing that made him smile as he sipped his cup of tea. It was something worse.
Mother.
Qifrey wasn’t weird, no, but his mind kept repeating that one thought over and over. Does Olruggio really look that feminine from behind? Maybe it’s just because he was clean-shaven that day. Shit, he’s sweating and can’t help but let out a little chuckle—the look on Olruggio’s face if only he knew that a harmless comment from an old woman had sent his brain racing, imagining all sorts of things.
Yes, the little girls aren’t his daughters—he never pretended they were—but… Sometimes, just sometimes, he thinks about how nice it would be to be called “Dad,” to hold little fingers in his own, and to kiss a forehead with a tenderness and adoration he wouldn’t show to anyone he knows.
It doesn’t sound bad at all.
Just as he’s taking another sip from his cup of tea, someone knocks on the door, snapping Qifrey out of his thoughts.
“Just a moment!” Qifrey says, setting the cup down on the coffee table. Then he heads to the door, where he comes face to face with the man who had lingered so long in the back of his mind. “Olly!”
It’s right, they had a tea date. Once a week, they need a break—a moment to sit together and relax while drinking tea, perhaps pampering each other with the affection they need and love to give. It was going to happen this time, too. The girls must already be busy or asleep, and whichever the case, it meant they wouldn’t be interrupted.
But there was something different this time.
“Want to guess what I brought?” asked Olruggio, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. Olruggio wasn’t the kind of guy who did mean things or anything out of the ordinary; in fact, he always had that slightly bored, Zen-like demeanor. “Guess, guess.”
Olruggio was hiding something behind his back right now. Maybe it was the time of day, or maybe it was the way the tea had practically put certain parts of his brain to sleep, but Qifrey couldn’t guess what Olruggio was holding. “A bouquet of flowers? For me?”
“Hah… No, even better.”
“Oh, it must be something expensive…” Qifrey murmured, trying to think of the possibilities. Did Olruggio bring him a gift? How sweet, it had been a few moons since that happened. “How about… that ring we saw at the fair? It sparkled so much.”
“Oh, yeah. It almost blinded me,” said Olruggio, finally stepping inside without turning his back on Qifrey for even a second. “No, it’s not that expensive.”
Qifrey looks at him and nods. What could it be? Just as he’s about to snap his fingers to give the definitive answer, Olruggio sets the gift down on the side table: a bottle. It wasn’t much different from the bottles of wine they used to buy, except that it looked a little more elegant and… Well, it’s a pretty design—so pretty that it looks more like a decorative item than alcohol. Although, aren’t bottles of alcohol decorative items anyway?
Qifrey looks at it closely. “What exactly are we celebrating, Olly?”
“Do we need a reason to drink?” Olruggio asks, letting out a little chuckle. It’s one of the few times Qifrey has seen him genuinely relaxed—it really has been a long week. “I saw this little gem while walking through town. It’s gorgeous.”
“Honestly, I’m more surprised that you went out for a walk,” Qifrey joked.
“That’s a good joke,” said Olruggio. “Did your brain come up with that all by itself?”
Qifrey found something charming about Olruggio’s face every time he smiled at something so earthly. He was the kind of man who could find pleasure in just these things when no other wizard like them could. Qifrey sat down on the couch and made space for the other man to sit beside him.
Olruggio sat down next to him, and as soon as he did, he popped the cork out of the bottle. With the same deftness, he filled the tea glasses in front of him with the alcohol. Meanwhile, Qifrey leaned back against the armrest and then crossed both legs over his partner’s thighs.
The girls were probably already asleep, so they’d have the whole night to themselves… And that strange bottle of alcohol that Olruggio had bought at a price too good to be true.
Maybe there was something strange about the alcohol—no, there definitely was. It was only a matter of time and a few sips before they ended up locked together, caressing each other’s bodies with hunger and longing as they sucked on their lips. Qifrey felt so hot and dizzy that his mind began to bring back the thoughts he’d been holding back.
God, he’d look so good if he were round.
His hands couldn’t help but reach for Olruggio’s round ass, squeezing it through his clothes and spreading his cheeks, wanting to feel the heat even if it was a bit complicated considering all the cloth. Olruggio pulled away from the kiss to moan in his ear once more before clinging to him again, lifting his skirt up to his thighs to let his beautiful legs wrap around Qifrey’s waist, their groins so close together that they could simply rub against each other until they came.
When Qifrey looked down, he was met with a beautiful image: Olruggio, completely lost in the moment, his eyes blurry, his lips parted in anticipation of another kiss, his cheeks red and flushed. Qifrey couldn’t help but grab Olruggio by the cheeks and squeeze them with his hand to force him into a pout, then he spat inside his mouth, enjoying the look of surprise on the other man’s face.
“Oh… Olly,” Qifrey moaned, then kissed his forehead and soon covered his neck with wet, sticky kisses, giving little nibbles and leaving marks on the skin he’d have to hide in the morning. “God, you’re so different tonight… I can’t even think…”
Olruggio chuckled before letting out a moan and trying to find Qifrey’s lips for another kiss, without success and feeling quite sad about it. “I feel so dizzy… And hot.”
That’s not the only thing he feels; his crotch throbs so deliciously, and his vaginal juices trickle down until they reach the couch, leaving a stain neither of them is going to clean up. Olruggio can’t help but slip his hand inside his underwear, beginning to rub his thick clitoris, unable to bear the fact that Qifrey isn’t touching him down there.
“I know, love, I know,” Qifrey whispered in his ear before standing up, sitting down, and pushing Olruggio so that he was facing away from him. Soon, he pushed him down, making him lift his ass toward him. “You always look so pretty in your skirt. Sometimes I want to lift it up and do all sorts of naughty things to you.”
Olruggio let out a flirtatious giggle beneath him. If they were both sober, they’d probably feel pretty embarrassed and ashamed of the language Qifrey is using right now.
“What kind of things?” Olruggio asks flirtatiously, not without first wiggling his butt. Oh, God, the normal Olruggio wouldn’t do that—what the hell is going on?
Qifrey doesn’t care, he grabs Olruggio’s skirt and pulls it forward again, it’s so long that it practically covers Olruggio’s head. Qifrey can’t help but bite his lip with delight as he stares at Olruggio’s ass. There’s really no way that thin skirt could have hidden all that. His hands rest on either side of Olruggio’s cheeks and spread them apart to take in the view: his pink, sweaty anus and, just below it, his fat, hairy pussy.
He doesn’t know which one he wants to stick his tongue into first.
“I can show you,” says Qifrey, without taking his eyes off both of his throbbing holes.
“Really? Because I was thinking— H-Hick!?” Before Olruggio could finish speaking, his hips were yanked upward, and his soft thighs ended up right next to the other man’s head. Olruggio grabbed one of the sofa cushions and clung to it as he began to moan loudly, unlike other times when he always tried to press his lips together to keep from letting out a single moan. “O-Ough! Fuck!”
Meanwhile, Qifrey’s tongue pushed aside his thick vaginal folds and began to suck between them, enveloping his swollen clitoris to slurp on it as if it were the last time he could savor it. That wasn’t all he did—Olruggio’s anus was too cute to pass up, so Qifrey pressed his Greek nose against that hole, sniffing it and inhaling the full aroma of sweat and sex.
It smelled so good, Qifrey can’t wait to steal his underwear once he falls asleep after they’ve fucked.
His tongue glided over every corner of his pussy, swirling around the sensitive spots. He did it so well that Olruggio shuddered, his sensitive pussy dripping so intensely that it even looked as if Qifrey were drinking from it—so carelessly that his chin was soaked.
Qifrey was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice when he lost his balance from drunkenness and fell backward. Olruggio let himself go and ended up sitting on Qifrey’s face, his thighs lovingly squeezing his head as his pussy was eaten out—it felt so good. Olruggio let out a loud moan and leaned forward when Qifrey’s tongue began to taste something much more intimate and dirty than a pussy. He felt completely embarrassed, clutching his stomach in fear and discomfort, but unable to move.
“O-oUhu! No, no! Not there!” Olruggio whined, his eyes filled with tears and his cheeks flushed red; the more he whined, the more he moved his hips downward. “I-It’s not clean!”
Qifrey couldn’t care less, he kept licking Olruggio’s ass, enjoying how his pussy dripped onto his chin and his love juices slowly trickled down to his neck. A single lick from his anus to his clitoris was all it took to send Olruggio over the edge and make him come immediately, splattering his entire face beneath him as he leaned forward through his first orgasm.
Olruggio could have sworn he felt him smile against his vulva—what a rascal.
As Olruggio recovered from his orgasm, his face rubbed lightly against the bulge in Qifrey’s tunic—so big and with a dark stain at the tip. He was so dizzy, yet his mind kept dwelling on something so disgusting and primitive, something he couldn’t even bring himself to say, even if he were drunk.
“Do you want it, sweetheart? Do you want it?” Qifrey asked from beneath him, breathing against his throbbing vagina. “I can’t do it all for you, sweetheart. You have to put in some effort.”
Even though they were both intoxicated, Qifrey was acting with greater clarity—perhaps because Olruggio was so sensitive to alcohol.
“I can’t…” Olruggio whimpered pitifully, like a wounded little animal. As much as he wanted to play with the manhood in front of him, he felt as if his limbs had been torn from his body.
“I know you can, sugar.”
As if Qifrey’s words were all he needed, Olruggio slipped his hand inside Qifrey’s tunic. His hand slid between Qifrey’s legs and began to stroke him up and down, squeezing gently before finally finding the opening in the tunic and pulling it open, pulling his cock out.
Qifrey’s cock was so beautiful and perfect, so hot that Olruggio could feel it as if he were gazing at the sun. He wanted to feel it even more, so he began rubbing that manhood against his cheek and all over his face, sniffing it like a damn animal in heat and rolling his eyes in the process. His cock wasn’t just thick and long, but also very beautiful and elegant—just like Qifrey himself—with a perfect vein on the right side that felt so good under his fingertip.
Olruggio’s mouth soon sank onto that enormous manhood while, just below him, Qifrey began sucking his clitoris again. Olruggio cupped his cheeks to suck better, pressing his tongue against the urethra and letting his hands lovingly squeeze those thick, cum-filled balls.
The gurgling sound coming from his mouth would soon fade away and return when he let that cock slip out completely, only to take it back in all the way to the root, listening as Qifrey stopped licking his clitoris to moan and groan; if only he could see him, Qifrey surely had his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed. His head kept moving up and down, and he gagged once or twice, but from this angle, it wasn’t enough to make him pull back.
Olruggio let go of his cock to catch his breath, and as he did, he began rubbing his face against that piece of meat again, inhaling its scent and feeling his own sticky saliva mix with the sweat on his face.
“Good gracious, Olly… You’re really going to drain me dry, aren’t you?” Qifrey said hoarsely, gasping and struggling to speak. “My little cocksucker…”
Olruggio, even though he was very drunk and strangely affectionate, responded just as Qifrey obviously expected him to. “If you keep talking, I’ll bite your dick.”
As Olruggio’s head moved up and down Qifrey’s thick member, he never stopped sucking on his clitoris. They both moaned in unison, and thank God they were using their mouths for something important and not for talking. Olruggio definitely didn’t want to hear a drunk Qifrey’s mediocre attempts to talk dirty.
A few more sucks were enough. Olruggio could feel that cock throbbing intensely in his hand and mouth. As much as he wanted to suck more, only God knew if Qifrey could handle another round after already coming once, so that’s why he pulled away from his huge, thick cock, sending shivers down the white-haired man’s spine.
“You—you can’t leave me like this, Olly,” Qifrey moaned, lamenting the lack of warmth and wetness on his cock. “You’re so mean to me, so cruel…”
Olruggio laughed. “Shut up and go get some condoms.”
Qifrey struggled to get up from the couch while Olruggio stepped aside, both of his legs shaking like jelly. With the same difficulty he’d had standing up, Qifrey staggered forward, falling to the floor and getting right back up, ignoring the little ‘pfft’ that escaped Olruggio’s lips right behind him.
Walking clumsily, Qifrey made his way to the bathroom, practically knocking the door down as he entered. Everything felt so funny right now. His hand opened the various drawers before finally finding the one he needed: condoms. Qifrey couldn’t help but stare at them for a few seconds with a silly grin. Why did they have to use them? Why not just let what’s meant to happen happen? It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that.
If the sober Qifrey already had strange thoughts, the drunk one was much worse. His head—don’t ask which one—began to throb as he thought about Olruggio. At first it was something simple, a funny and sweet thought like the ones he’d had just a few hours ago, but now? Now he was thinking about what Olruggio would look like if he were round, about his breasts getting bigger, about his hips getting wider, about how his mood might change radically in a few months.
God, what a weirdo.
A kinder Olruggio, more… willing. Don’t get the wrong idea, Qifrey loves Olruggio’s personality; he loves the way he is, but he also loves how gentle and soft he can be. He would, without a doubt, love to lie on his belly for hours after a long day without Olruggio saying, “That’s enough.”
Yeah, that sounds good.
With a touch of sadness, Qifrey picked up the condom between his fingers and examined it for a few seconds. Just as he looked down, he noticed a small needle in the drawer. Did Olruggio really put that needle there? Near where they keep the condoms? Qifrey chuckled to himself, as if Olruggio were thinking the same thing he was. Oh, wait—what if he was? It wouldn’t be out of place; Olruggio could just lie around all day at home, resting, eating whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, patiently waiting for his husband to come home.
It wouldn’t be much different from his current routine, ofcourse, the only bad thing is that Olruggio wouldn’t be able to drink alcohol anymore.
Yeah, Olruggio would definitely be fine with getting pregnant.
With that in mind, Qifrey pops the condom. A loud “POP” sounds as, little by little, Qifrey feels the small air pocket inside the condom disappear completely, and then, he can’t help but feel like a horrible person.
The guilt simply dissolves as quickly as it came.
When he returns to Olruggio, Qifrey can tell that the man has been trying in vain to take off his shirt, but that only makes him sexier. He likes how one of his shoulders is bare, as is one of his nipples, and his exposed chest only makes him think about how soft it will become in the future, how easy it will be to grab. It’s clear that Olruggio has tried to undress himself, but hasn’t been able to because of his drunkenness. Qifrey is less drunk than he is—that’s for sure.
“Getting sexy for me, Olly?” Qifrey asks suggestively, moving closer to the other man on the couch, starting to kiss his lips and soon his freckled shoulder while his hands try to finish the job he started, letting that ridiculous skirt finally hit the floor.
Olruggio laughs foolishly, his cheeks so red. “Your mouth tastes like pussy.”
“Oh! And I wonder whose fault that is,” says Qifrey, his mouth planting little kisses on the other man’s now-exposed collarbones. His hand can’t help but cup Olruggio’s nonexistent breasts. Tonight they’re pecs, tomorrow they could be beautiful, soft tits—and the baby wouldn’t be the only one to drink from them.
After a good round of kissing and leaving Olruggio completely happy, Qifrey proceeds to slide the condom onto his cock, the hole he made in it is imperceptible. “On all fours, please.”
“What? No!” Olruggio growled.
“Why not?”
“Because, uh…” Olruggio looks ashamed, tilts his head, obviously not wanting to say it, but unable to escape Qifrey’s gaze. With a hint of embarrassment, he sighs and confesses. “I like watching you when we do it.”
“Oh,” Qifrey nods and smiles, he also likes watching Olruggio, but he also likes watching his ass. “That’s cute, Olly.”
“Whatever…” Olruggio rolls his eyes and simply gets on all fours, his limbs trembling on the couch with anticipation.
The view is everything Qifrey could ask for, if not even more. Sure, he also likes to look at Olruggio’s face while he’s fucking him, but sometimes that sort of thing is best left for another time. His chubby pussy is soaking wet—way more than before. When his hand pushes one of Olruggio’s butt cheeks aside, he can see both holes winking at him at the same time. How cute.
Qifrey chuckles to himself and lets his thumb slide into Olruggio’s pussy, wanting to see just how tight and cozy it is.
It’s fucking tight and cozy.
Qifrey positions himself, getting down on his knees behind Olruggio and aligning his hips with Olruggio’s. He takes his cock and gives those juicy lips a soft little kiss with it, and then slides inside in one smooth, wet motion. Olruggio loses the strength in his arms and falls forward, practically sinking his teeth into the sofa cushions.
God, his ass looks really good from there.
Qifrey pulls out very slowly and then thrusts back in hard, just to watch his thick cock slide in and out of that pussy, which grips him so lovingly.
“Just—just fuck me, Qifrey.”
Qifrey nods, one hand on Olruggio’s waist and the other on his shoulder, holding him in place while his hips move slowly in a slow, delicious rhythm—deep enough to ensure that Olruggio can feel it all the way to the bottom, so he can feel just how good that cock feels against his cervix.
Qifrey’s thrusts pick up pace over time, and as he does, he can’t help but notice just how wide Olruggio’s hips already are, how big and round his ass is. Maybe Olruggio was born for this, maybe that’s why his body is so perfect—because his sole purpose in this world is… Shit, what exactly is he thinking right now?
Qifrey can’t help it, but as he thrusts into Olruggio’s body beneath him, he thinks even worse things, about how he could completely assign Olruggio to be his housewife, to turn him into his little domestic wife. His hand presses harder on Olruggio’s shoulder, to the point of drawing a small groan of pain from him, causing him to slowly turn his head in Qifrey’s direction to look at him.
He looks so confused, he has no idea what Qifrey has been thinking.
He knows nothing.
Qifrey can’t help but smile and press himself even harder against Olruggio’s ass, his thick testicles slapping against his clitoris with every thrust, making him moan and shudder like a filthy whore beneath him.
And then, he just says it.
“What do you think about a child?”
Olruggio, who was already feeling quite confused, rolls his eyes as he moans at the word. When he catches his breath, he can’t form complete sentences. Too dizzy, too filled with cock. “What?”
“A child, Olly,” Qifrey repeats, without stopping his thrusts into the shorter man. “You’d look beautiful carrying my child—so full, so round, so beautiful.” He’s really imagining it.
Olruggio moans and his pussy tightens even more at those terrible words. Qifrey can feel his womb taking the shape of his cock, as if his words were that sacred. “Qi—frey.”
“The curve of your belly, those adorable little kicks—your damn fat tits—Goddamn. ” Qifrey looks down and watches as he absorbs him, as he soaks in his sticky love juices. “You’d be an amazing mother, Olly. You’d look so good pregnant, so pretty.”
“N-Nhghn…!”
Qifrey’s mind is completely clouded; there’s nothing else there but Olruggio carrying his seed. “Sitting on the couch, reading something while you carry my child in your womb… You’d look so tempting, Olly, so delicious.”
“Qif— Qifrey, Qifrey…”
“I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you, I swear to God—I’d be, I’d be inside you all day, fucking you over and over and over and over—”
Olruggio leans forward and practically forces Qifrey out of him, leaving his perfectly erect cock completely wet between his two butt cheeks. Qifrey looks confused, and nothing prepares him for when a hand clumsily wraps around his cock, squeezing it and slowly sliding off the condom he was wearing, finally dropping it on the floor.
Oh, well.
It seems Qifrey didn’t need to have done all that after all.
With renewed energy, Qifrey pounces on Olruggio, starting to fuck him like there’s no tomorrow. It feels so good, so fucking good to do it without a condom, Qifrey had forgotten the last time he’d fucked Olruggio raw. His chest was pressed completely against Olruggio’s back, his chin buried in the crook of his neck, staring intently as Olruggio writhed and moaned, clinging to him like some kind of tick.
“How many kids do you want, Olly?”
“I don’t—”
“One? Two? Three?” Qifrey was staring at him so intensely, he was grateful that Olruggio had his eyes closed, or he might have been scared by the other man’s impassive blue eyes. “Maybe four? Would you beg me to get you pregnant a fourth time, Olly?”
Olruggio is crying underneath him; he doesn’t know what to say—not when his pussy is being torn apart by that cock. So deep, so full, so completely his and no one else’s.
“Qi—qifrey!” Olruggio cries out, his voice dripping with desire. He wants more; he needs more.
“Yes, my love?”
“Come inside, come inside,” Olruggio pleads, unable to think coherently, much less speak. Everything he says is pure desire, pure need. “Get me pregnant, get me pregnant—”
Qifrey couldn’t be happier, and he proves it by thrusting straight into his fertile womb. “You’ll be a great mother, Olly. I promise you.”
With a painful jolt, Qifrey releases all his seed inside Olruggio, who writhes beneath him and growls as a strong burst shoots out of his pussy. Both of them crave more of each other even though they’re done, so much so that Qifrey can’t help but move a little more—just a few post-orgasm thrusts to push all his seed deeper inside the other man, making sure to properly impregnate him.
Olruggio’s thighs tremble, and he finally collapses, falling onto the sofa. Qifrey withdraws his flaccid cock with a loud splash and places several kisses on his neck and shoulders, gently caressing his back as he usually does after sex. Below him, Olruggio breathes heavily, trying to recover not only from the orgasm but also from the way the alcohol has evaporated from his brain.
“I have a list of names for the baby…” says Qifrey, his mind racing, unlike Olruggio’s. “Do you want to hear them?”
Olruggio groans in response. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”