Bedsprings Arc Pt. 05

Alright, this atrocity can be blamed on Megumi, for aiding, abetting, and inspiring it. Written with her help (mostly in helping me think up names), this is Brainstorms, some random short bonus fling in the Bedsprings Arc.

*

"Evan?"

I'm laying on my side by him, in that fucking good after-sex buzz, my head and one elbow resting on those damn muscled thighs of his. My other hand sits on his hip, one finger tracing the veins on his cock, watching it stir and twitch, rising slowly out of sated post-sex lethargy to glare at me.

He grunts, one arm covering his eyes. "Matty, stop playing with my penis."

"Don't call me Matty," I mumble, comfortably.

I can feel him smirk. I swear, his smirk actually raises my body temperature a degree, even when I can't see it. "Matty."

I flick his cock. It jumps. "Jackass." I grin.

Sitting up, I wrap my lips around the head of his cock and give it a lick before laying my head back down on his thighs. He groans. "MATTY."

"Mmyeah?"

"I thought you said your ass hurt."

"It does. You and your fucking monstercock."

"Then why," he asks, "are you getting me up again?"

I push his cock down with one finger and watch it bounce back up like a boxer, red and fucking pissed. "Evan?"

He groans again. "What?"

"Does your cock have a name?"

He sits up on his elbows. "WHAT?"

"It's a simple question. Does it?"

He stares at me like I've got two fucking heads. "Sure," he says, flopping back on the pillow. "Evan junior."

I make it bounce again. He growls at me. "Matty!"

"People name their kids things like Evan junior. Not cocks."

"You're batshit," he says, sitting up and grabbing me, pulling me up to lie next to him on the bed and pinning me under his weight. I can feel his cock pressing into my hip, and I like it. He nuzzles my shoulder lazily. "Does yours?"

"Mephistopheles," I tell him. "Mephy-kins for short."

He sits up to give me a suitably quizzical eyebrow raises. "Mephy-kins."

"It's the name of some demon dude from Hell. Saw it in some fucking tv special."

"And therefore you felt possessed to name your cock Mephe--Mophy--"

"Mephistopheles."

He stares at me.

I push him back onto the bed and roll over to straddle his waist so that his obscene cock brushes my ass cheeks.

"You are the only person who would name their penis Mephe--Me--" He stops and sighs, rolling his eyes. "Something that crazy."

I reach over him for the bottle of lube on the bedstand. "How about Manslayer?"

"What?"

"For your cock."

"You want to name my cock Manslayer."

"I'm sure it could cause death in lesser men than I. Less masochistic men with weaker powers of recovery. It's as large as my forearm."

"Like hell it is. You're not THAT scrawny."

I pour a glob of lube into my hand and reach around, slopping it onto Manslayer. "Cockzilla."

He groans. "That's worse."

Grinning, I wiggle my ass backwards, using my hand to guide his cock until I feel it pop inside. I sit down greedily on it, shivering at the slight pain. "Homewrecker."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

I grin. "Hollywood."

He's confused. "Hollywood?" A moment later he gets it and rolls his eyes. "No." He flips us over, pinning me down and pulls most of the way out.

"King Dong," I say. He slams into me in reply. "Ow."

"Shut up," he says, but I can taste the amusement in his voice.

"Energizer. Because you keep going and going and--"

He kisses me to shut me up, rutting hard into me. "I am not naming my cock after a pink bunny."

"God."

He stops. "Better. But no."

"Yeah." I reconsider. "That's just asking for erectile disfunction."

He twitches, still not moving. "I feel I should be insulted by that insinuation. What about Master?"

I grin that he's now helping me think up names. "Maybe. Tell Master to stop being lazy and fuck me." I writhe up and clench my butt to encourage him.

He smirks, lifting my ass with his hands so he can fuck me harder, and I moan, rolling my hips with him and shuddering--"ohyespleasemastertakemehard"--because I know how much he likes it when I beg. I scream as I come, babbling, and then dissolving bonelessly into the buzz after my orgasm, letting him fuck me the way h e likes, those damn lapis lazuli eyes on mine. He stills--my legs wound obscenely around his waist, and his cock right where it belongs, deep within me--then continues to thrust, spurting into me repeatedly, claiming me for his own.

"My sweet Matty," he mumbles, collapsing onto me. I enjoy the warm sticky weight of him.

"His Majesty," I suggest.

I can feel his lips against my throat widen into a grin. "His Majesty. Deal," he says, pulling out and then relaxing back on top of me. "You crazy bastard."

"Bitch," I murmur contentedly. "You're the bastard."

He nuzzles my neck, cuddling me close. "Fine. You crazy bitch."

"I hope His Majesty isn't worn out," I tell him, kissing. "We're going again."