He might as well have been forcing their gaze. Even with such a gentle grip, Molloy’s hold on them is firm like iron, impossible to resist. Kurt feels like if they look away, if they pull away from him right now, they’ll die.
Why would they want to pull away anyway, when his hard cock against their ass feels so good? They moan hungrily, arching into him without shame, their hand finding his where it rests over their stomach so they can press it harder into their yielding flesh. So they can guide it further down.
That guiding hand stills as soon as Molloy speaks. His voice and words are searingly hot, yes, but more than anything they’re… familiar. They can’t place it at first. Like they’re recalling an old song, or a dream someone else once had.
But then it hits them. Kurt realizes with a start why he sounds so familiar, exactly where they’ve heard that voice speak those words before, and their entire center of gravity flips.
“Wait… W-Wait, you’re…” Kurt stares up at him, slack jawed and wide eyed, shivering all over as a complete impossibility inexplicably becomes reality. “No fucking way.“
There's an extremely comical moment where Corrigan’s Cool Dom Persona slips a bit, and he just looks bewildered. Kurt's expression has gone from eagerly turned on to eagerly turned on and also stunned by -- something. Amusingly, Corrigan thinks he's so subtle and careful that while he's figured out who they are, there's no way they'd be able to do the same. Because he's an obvious master of disguise.
So he doesn't keep feeling Kurt up -- much as he wants to -- instead frowning a little and tilting his head to one side, like a bewildered bird. "No fucking way what?" He'd very much like to get back to the fun horny stuff, but this seems...important.
"You're Southcalman." Kurt looks utterly amazed as the pieces fall into place, as they place his voice and his words, cadence and all. There's no doubt in their mind whatsoever. If they're somehow mistaken, if this man somehow isn't the one they've been camming for over the last several months, Kurt has still struck gold, because they sound identical.
No one has ever captured Kurt's attention the way Southcalman has. The mysterious viewer quickly made himself known as a generous tipper, frequently buying private shows from them, but where he really shone was in the chat. His words were arresting, captivating, addicting. Soon, Kurt would find themself sulking if he didn't show up one night, or lamenting other users buying private shows, stealing time they could've been spending with Southcalman. For months, whenever they perform, they've pictured him.
Of course, it's hard to picture someone whose face you've never seen and whose voice you've barely heard. So getting to see him, hear him, feel him on their body in this moment is the wildest thrill. Yeah, they're probably outing themself as a cam model and sex worker to their boss—and he's only been their boss for two minutes—but they don't care. Kurt looks star-struck. "I recognize your voice, you're— you're in my chat all the time, I can't believe it's actually you! Holy shit!"
As if he would be confused about who they are, Kurt reaches up and pulls their bun loose, letting their hair tumble and spill heavily over their shoulders, over Molloy's hand still on their face. Their chest thrums with nerves and giddy excitement, tummy doing flips. "I-I'm Princess Freyja, sir."
The mention of his -- in retrospect, extremely boring and basic-- screen name has Corrigan wincing a little, embarrassed, about to laugh and try to explain himself. But Kurt's gazing up at him all starry-eyed and delighted and worshipful, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. They're just as excited that he's him as he is that they're...them.
And then he laughs genuinely, warmly, hands finding Kurt's hips to turn them around so he can look down properly into that giddy, grinning face. They're adorable like this, loose hair and big adoring eyes, giving up their big secret so easily, so trusting. Because Kurt knows him, like he knows them. And it makes something soft and tender in his chest acheI.
"Oh, baby, I know," he replies, hands finding their face again, cradling their flushed cheeks, gazing down at them. "I've known it was you since the second you smiled at me. I'd know that smile anywhere." He leans down, rests his forehead against theirs for a moment, closes his eyes. "I never thought I'd get -- this. Get you like this, in the flesh. Not have to share you with anyone else."
He knew, and he didn't tell them! He recognized them right away, and he just let them dither around and work themself up and make a total fool out of themself! Now that's edging. Talk about committing to the bit.
Kurt dissolves into soft giggles, letting the man turn them around and cradle them, holding them so close. They're alight with an embarrassed blush, excitement thrumming through them, smiling up at him with that same adoring starry-eyed expression. He says he's happy that he doesn't have to share them, and bizarrely, Kurt feels the same way, even though they've never really had to share Molloy with anyone before. It feels amazing, not having to divide their attention.
"Yeah? Have you been thinking about that a lot?" they ask, letting their arms snake around the man's neck, bolder and more playful, more comfortable with him now that they know who he is. "Getting to have me for real? You kept saying that during shows, but everyone just says stuff like that, ya know..."
God, they're gorgeous -- a fact Corrigan knew, but it's much more potent when he can feel them, smell them, when they fit so perfectly into his arms. Kurt reaches up, laces their arms around his neck and its the easiest thing in the world for Corrigan to lift them off the ground, backing up to sit on the bed with them in his lap.
"Baby, am I anything like anyone else?" He teases, settling Kurt with their legs spread over his thighs, his hands languidly feeling up the shape of their hips, their back, their ass. "I never say things I don't mean. When I say I've been thinking about you in my arms, in my bed, I mean it."
Then, tilting his head, Corrigan adds archly: "And when I say that you'd better kiss me before I lose my mind, I mean that too."
Molloy hoists them up, and all Kurt can do is cling to him as he carries them across the room and pray he doesn’t drop them. Though of course he doesn’t drop them. They can feel his body through all the layers of clothing, they know for a fact he’s ripped, and he deposits them gently into his lap like they weigh nothing.
Kurt always assumed they would enjoy being picked up and manhandled. Another fantasy they figured would never actually see daylight. They had figured wrong, but assumed correctly. His hands on their body feel amazing, so strong and sure, and they know they would let him do anything he wanted to them.
“Is that right,” they breathe, not really a question, their arms tightening around his neck. Before he gets the chance to either lose his mind or ask them again, Kurt presses their whole body against his, legs spread wide over his strong thighs, leaving nothing hidden from him anymore, and kisses him.
It’s light and playful at first, a little bashful, as all first kisses go. But soon their impatience wins out, and they deepen the kiss with a hungry little noise, lips parting to let him inside.
Despite the fact that Corrigan has a kinky to-do list a mile long that centers Kurt specifically, he could also conceivably spend the rest of his life just kissing them. They taste fantastic, lipgloss and toothpaste, and the hint of metal when he curls his tongue into their mouth. Kissing someone with braces is an art, and there's something sweet about how it feels new to him. Corrigan isn't used to anything feeling brand-new, but kissing Kurt does.
"You still want this?" he manages between long, deep, lingering kisses, breathless and slick-lipped. "Knowing who I am and everything?" A quick flash of a grin, and his hands sliding back to grab possessively at their ass, pull their body easily against his. "Your boss with godawful taste in screen names?"
If he decides to keep them employed after all of this, they'll have all the time in the world to work their way through that kinky to-do list. Kurt, too, has an untold number of things they want to do to Molloy, that they want him to do to them, things he's teased and threatened with during live shows, things they've babbled about while made to edge themself, toys and costumes they haven't shown him yet.
They want to do everything with him.
"Yes," they breathe, not willing to stop kissing him, surging forward again and again to press their lips to his, slide their tongue against his own. They try to be mindful of the braces. His hands squeeze at their ass, and they moan happily, suddenly regretting not wearing a skirt. Pants are the worst. "Knowing who you are just makes me want this more, if I'm being honest, sir."
"Does it really?" Corrigan grins for a moment, boyish and genuine, squeezing once more at Kurt's ass, before his hand slides slowly back up their spine, inch by inch. There's another of those long, lingering kisses, heady and dizzying, as his fingers slide into the loose tangles of their hair --
-- and then, suddenly, Corrigan’s fishing his hand, yanking their hair back hard, wrenching their face up to meet him. The soft eagerness has melted away, replaced with the commanding presence of moments before -- but stronger, more secure, because he's playing with Freyja and he knows what they like.
"I distinctly remember telling you to ask me nicely, sweetheart. I know you're able." He keeps his hand firm in their hair, eyebrows arching. He knows their safewords, their likes, their kinks. If it's too much, he knows they'll tell him.
His hand fists into their hair and yanks their head back, and Kurt cries out into the luxurious penthouse, a jolt of pain and surprise going through their entire body. It hurts a lot more than they’d imagined it would, when Molloy teased that he’d pull their hair during a livestream.
It makes their cock throb with need in their slacks. Though that could just be how secure he looks right now, firm and stern, completely confident Kurt will like this. He’s right.
“S-Sir—!” Their fingers twitch and clench into Molloy’s dress shirt, their eyes growing dark with need, wet with tears, the flush of color across their face deepening. They don’t call him sir on stream, do they? Whimpering, they rock their hips down against Molloy’s as they open their mouth to beg.
“Please… Daddy, p-please,” they whine, pouting up at him. “I want you so bad, Daddy. Please, I w-want you to fuck me, I need you to, please! D-Daddy, I’ve been so good!”
There they are. Freyja and Kurt, bleeding together into one needy, shuddering, breathless mess in his lap, eyes hazy, lips full and kiss-swollen, tears welling in their bright, hungry eyes. Corrigan leans up, kisses down the bared line of their neck, teasing his teeth against their pulse. The first mark he's ever left on them -- at least physically.
"That's my baby," he murmurs, loosening his grip slightly on their hair, cradling their body against his. "That's my needy little slut. How could I ever say no to you?" He's being much more indulgent than normal, but it's their first time physically together. Corrigan figures he can be a liiiitttle lenient.
Another issue over their racing pulse, then he turns, depositing them in a heap on the bed. "Undress, princess," he commands, squeezing at their thighs. "Hands and knees for Daddy. I wanna see how you taste."
Oh, hearing him say it right into their ear is so much better than reading his words on a screen, than hearing them murmured through tinny laptop speakers. When he calls them baby, when he calls them his needy little slut, shocks of pleasure shoot down their spine, making their toes curl in their pumps. There's none of the fear or apprehension they'd imagined, the embarrassment of being chastized and punished in real life only making them want him more.
"Y-Yes, Daddy," they whine, quietly sulking as they're dumped onto the bed, losing physical contact with him. So they hurry to do what he says, eager to feel his hands on them again, the press of his body to theirs, his mouth... Shivering, they unbutton the blouse and shuck off their slacks, kicking each garment off the bed one by one as they shed them. Finally free of their stupid business casual interview attire, Kurt looks like themself again, naked and flushed and freckled, so hard between their legs, exactly how Molloy knows them.
Panting, they scramble into place as told, hands and knees in the center of the bed, presenting for Daddy—and the rest of Los Angeles, if anyone knows to look, their form entirely visible through the glass wall. It doesn't deter them. Kurt is a natural at this, spreading their legs and arching their back so deep, their shuddering spine curving attractively for Molloy. For Daddy. "P-Please..."
It's sort of amusing how heedless Kurt is of their clothes -- usually undressing is part of the show, another chance to tease and entice the viewers with each removal, each unzipping or untying or unbuttoning. But clearly they're too impatient for any of that, breathless and trembling and naked in front of him within moments.
Despite his own impatience, Corrigan has to take the time to savor this moment, the first time his hands slide up their freckled thighs, nudging them apart a bit more, the first time he squeezes possessively at their perfect upturned ass, the first time he sets a hand between their shoulders and presses down, guiding them to arch their back and lift their hips higher. "There you go, so pretty for me, baby," he murmurs, climbing onto the bed and grabbing their ass again.
They're soft and quivering and perfectly compliant, begging him so sweetly, and Corrigan easily manhandles them back into his lap, their thighs spread, hips lifted so high their knees are barely touching the bed. It's an undignified, exposed, helpless position, one where Kurt's entirely at Corrigan’s mercy. All they can really do is squirm and make more of those pretty noises as he slowly, luxuriously, slides the flat of his tongue over their hole.
Feeling his hands on them after all this time is beyond anything Kurt could have possibly imagined. It’s not like they don’t sleep around. They hook up with randoms and workers at the Hotel all the time, they’re not what you could call touch-starved or anything.
But the hands running up their thighs and squeezing their ass and manipulating them into position belong to him. To the man who’s haunted their dreams for months, who’s captivated them completely without ever getting near them. It’s no wonder they’re so reactive to his touch. It’s his hands that make them shiver, it’s his silky praise that makes them whine, it’s his tongue sliding so slowly over their hole that lures a hungry cry from their lips.
And they get to have this every day from now on. Kurt can’t believe how lucky they are. "Yes! Yes, oh Daddy, that feels so good," they moan, fingers curling into the luxurious bedsheets, thighs already quivering both from pleasure and the punishing position they’re made to hold.
Whoever said 'never meet your heroes' didn’t know what they were talking about. Kurt just hopes this is as exhilarating for Molloy as it is for them.
Corrigan wonders momentarily if the penthouse suite is soundproof -- and immediately follows that by hoping it isn't. He doesn't really care who Kurt flirts with or even sleeps with -- its a job and a hobby for them, one he isn't about to suddenly demand they give up. But he wants the whole Hotel to know that he's the one who makes them moan like this. He wants everyone to hear how mindless with pleasure they get under his touch.
So he stays focused, eating Kurt out with slow, focused drags of his tongue, enjoying how they shiver and squirm as he works them open gradually, taking his time. He only stops when he can feel their thighs shaking, when their whining, gasping sounds take on a desperate pitch. Then he pulls back, panting, working two fingers inside their ass and pumping them slowly.
"Gonna come for me?" he purrs, free hand sliding over their cock for the first time, an almost gentle caress. "C'mon, I wanna watch you, wanna see you come on my fingers, my tongue in you. You have permission..." Then Corrigan pauses, before diving back in to licking and sucking around his fingers, to add: "...this time."
They're sure half the staff knows already. After Ginger started spamming the group chat—their phone is still whirring within the pile of clothes abandoned on the floor—they wouldn't be surprised if a bunch of them have already piled up on the other side of the locked door, listening intently to the bratty Princess Freyja getting nasty with their new boss.
Let them hear. Let them hear how good Molloy makes them feel, how his tongue alone has them gasping and whining for more, squirming in his grasp. When he finally permits them to come—this time, he teases, just like he does online, edging them until they cry—Kurt is beside themself with need, rocking helplessly into the fingers toying with their leaking cock, bucking into his hand.
"Thank you, D-Daddy, thank you—! Ah, hah, y-yes—!" He's barely even been inside them yet, barely even touched them, but the first time Corrigan Molloy makes them come is the most dizzying pleasure of their life. They make a mess of themself, of Molloy's hand, Molloy's lap, clenching around his fingers and tongue with a keening moan.
The one thing Corrigan did keep track of on the tour -- in between mentally undressing Kurt and daydreaming about pinning them against the wall -- was the laundry room. So he knows there's a place for those nice silky blankets to be thoroughly cleaned, and no reason at all to worry about making a mess of them.
So he takes his time working Kurt through that first pleasurable peak, never slowing or stopping the movements of his fingers inside them, his hand around their cock, his tongue sliding messy and slick around and between the scissoring digits. Even when they're twitching with overstimulation, when the moans are laced with pleading desperation, he doesn't stop.
Corrigan just reaches around, sliding his come-covered fingers into Kurt's moaning mouth, prompting them to clean him up. "You can tap out if it's too much," he teases, adding a third finger inside them, focusing his attention on that oversensitive spot, enjoying how their thighs shake uncontrollably at the intense stimulation. "I know it's much more than you're used to. It's fine if you can't take it."
He's deliberately goading them on, knowing their stubborn pride won't let them give up, not now. Even when their body starts screaming for it, for just a moment of rest, to catch their breath, to recover. Corrigan has no intention of giving that without them pleading for it.
The thing is, he's right. This is much more than they're used to. Sure, they can ride their toys or sit on a magic wand until they're blue in the face, but at least then they are in control. At any time, Kurt can stop what they're doing, in complete control of their own pleasure. Even when the viewers—namely Southcalman—would order them to keep going, that feeling of pushing the wailing streamer past their breaking point was always just an illusion Kurt would grant them. Always in control.
But they're decidedly not in control now. It's always different when another person gets involved, sure, but none of their other conquests ever pushed and pushed and pushed the way Molloy does. Kurt goes from gasping to moaning to whimpering within minutes, every breath sharp and tinged with desperation, their fingers clenching so hard into the sheets they might just rip. He doesn't even let them come down from that high, just pushes them further and further into overstimulated bliss.
They don't stop him from pushing his fingers into their mouth, instead hungrily sucking down their own spend, moaning loudly at the taste of themself, the humiliation of being degraded like this. It feels so good, even as Molloy punishes their hole with his fingers, pushing against that spot again and again until they see stars. It's almost too much of a good thing.
Almost. Because Molloy is right once again. They're way too stubborn to beg him to stop. Freyja once did a four hour Sybian marathon, for fuck's sake. No way is a man—the most magnetic, captivating, irresistible man they've ever met, with the most sinful tongue and talented fingers—going to break them. "N-No, I— hah—! I can take it, D-Daddy!" they whine around his fingers, words slurring, adamant even as their hips jerk and stutter against his hand, as their spent cock twitches helplessly between their quivering legs.
"If you say so, princess," Corrigan murmurs, stroking the pads of his fingers against their tongue, a mirror of the fingers plunged to the knuckle inside their hole, quick intent strokes that have Kurt's legs quivering wildly, uncontrollably. He torments them for a little more, then slowly stops, an apparent show of mercy, giving them a few moments to pant against the blankets. He even eases them to lie on their back, less friction against their oversensitive cock.
That way they can watch him undress, a slow, careful process, unbuttoning his shirt, his slacks, pushing them off onto the ground to be dealt with later. He holds onto his loose tie, though, climbing onto the bed and neatly looping the fabric around Kurt's wrists, tying them together and pushing them up above their head. "Hold it there," he commands simply, knowing that they'll obey. Or -- well, they'll try.
Because the next thing Corrigan does is slide back down the bed, hook those long, trembling legs over his shoulders and take their cock in his mouth, swallowing them down easily, one hand pressing firmly on their stomach so they can't squirm away. He doesn't waste a moment, doesn't build back up to the torturous, intense feeling, just immediately starts pushing Kurt back towards that peak they only just left, tongue curling around their spent length and coaxing it into hardness again.
Kurt lets him tie their hands together without protest, the restraints coming as naturally as anything. They're still reeling from his drawn-out torturous tonguing, still awed by the beauty of the man undressing before them, his gorgeous body revealed inch by inch. They idly wonder if Molloy feels as dizzy and awed as they do now, when he watches them undress on stream. It's a goddamn religious experience.
So is that mouth, hot and wet and sinful as it descends on their cock, luring a shrill cry from the bound streamer. They can't even squirm away or buck up against him, those big hands holding them firmly in place. All they can do is lay there and take it as he sucks them off, already getting hard again against his tongue.
"S-Sir! Daddy, please, pleasepleasepleeease!" they cry, toes curling against his back, hips fruitlessly rocking up into his face. Kurt completely forgets they're supposed to keep their bound hands above their head, too caught up in all the too-much too-fast too-good to think, and reaches down to tangle their twitching fingers in his hair.
So disobedient, already, tsk tsk. Corrigan let's it go -- for the moment -- too caught up in the way Kurt tastes, the snag of their delicate fingers in his hair, the way their cock twitches and fills against his tongue. He swallows around them, pulls back, teasing the leaking head with the tip of his tongue. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, curls loose and messy around Kurt's fingers as he looks up.
"Your choice," he manages, hand coming up to pump slowly at Kurt's cock. "Come in my mouth or come from me inside you." His mouth is slick, wet, grinning. "Either way, last time you're allowed. After that, you don't come til I do. Understand?" Corrigan turns, presses his lips at the shivering inside of Kurt's thigh, knowing that either way is torturous -- either a quick release now, followed by having to hold back for god knows how long, or vice-versa.
"Last t-time?" Now that's just unfair. That's just a crying shame. The first time Kurt meets the man who's captivated their thoughts for months on end, the only viewer they let get away with anything, and he's already testing their limits right to the breaking point, just like he does on stream.
It's the hottest fucking thing they've ever experienced.
Kurt knows what the right answer is, of course, but they're sorely tempted to take the easy way out and come down his throat right now. His mouth is sinfully good, teasing them perfectly, that tongue driving them out of their mind. And the worst part is that he knows it. He grins up at them, even as he's slick with them, teasing the head of their cock with slow passes of his wicked tongue, like he's enjoying some candy.
Tightening their fingers in his hair, hands still bound by his expertly tied tie, Kurt whines before making a choice they're sure they'll regret in about a minute's time: "I— I wanna come from you inside me, D-Daddy," they say, blushing scarlet. "Please, Daddy, l-let me come on your cock."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 06:55 pm (UTC)Why would they want to pull away anyway, when his hard cock against their ass feels so good? They moan hungrily, arching into him without shame, their hand finding his where it rests over their stomach so they can press it harder into their yielding flesh. So they can guide it further down.
That guiding hand stills as soon as Molloy speaks. His voice and words are searingly hot, yes, but more than anything they’re… familiar. They can’t place it at first. Like they’re recalling an old song, or a dream someone else once had.
But then it hits them. Kurt realizes with a start why he sounds so familiar, exactly where they’ve heard that voice speak those words before, and their entire center of gravity flips.
“Wait… W-Wait, you’re…” Kurt stares up at him, slack jawed and wide eyed, shivering all over as a complete impossibility inexplicably becomes reality. “No fucking way.“
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 08:20 pm (UTC)So he doesn't keep feeling Kurt up -- much as he wants to -- instead frowning a little and tilting his head to one side, like a bewildered bird. "No fucking way what?" He'd very much like to get back to the fun horny stuff, but this seems...important.
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 08:51 pm (UTC)No one has ever captured Kurt's attention the way Southcalman has. The mysterious viewer quickly made himself known as a generous tipper, frequently buying private shows from them, but where he really shone was in the chat. His words were arresting, captivating, addicting. Soon, Kurt would find themself sulking if he didn't show up one night, or lamenting other users buying private shows, stealing time they could've been spending with Southcalman. For months, whenever they perform, they've pictured him.
Of course, it's hard to picture someone whose face you've never seen and whose voice you've barely heard. So getting to see him, hear him, feel him on their body in this moment is the wildest thrill. Yeah, they're probably outing themself as a cam model and sex worker to their boss—and he's only been their boss for two minutes—but they don't care. Kurt looks star-struck. "I recognize your voice, you're— you're in my chat all the time, I can't believe it's actually you! Holy shit!"
As if he would be confused about who they are, Kurt reaches up and pulls their bun loose, letting their hair tumble and spill heavily over their shoulders, over Molloy's hand still on their face. Their chest thrums with nerves and giddy excitement, tummy doing flips. "I-I'm Princess Freyja, sir."
no subject
Date: 2023-03-31 11:19 pm (UTC)And then he laughs genuinely, warmly, hands finding Kurt's hips to turn them around so he can look down properly into that giddy, grinning face. They're adorable like this, loose hair and big adoring eyes, giving up their big secret so easily, so trusting. Because Kurt knows him, like he knows them. And it makes something soft and tender in his chest acheI.
"Oh, baby, I know," he replies, hands finding their face again, cradling their flushed cheeks, gazing down at them. "I've known it was you since the second you smiled at me. I'd know that smile anywhere." He leans down, rests his forehead against theirs for a moment, closes his eyes. "I never thought I'd get -- this. Get you like this, in the flesh. Not have to share you with anyone else."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 05:08 pm (UTC)Kurt dissolves into soft giggles, letting the man turn them around and cradle them, holding them so close. They're alight with an embarrassed blush, excitement thrumming through them, smiling up at him with that same adoring starry-eyed expression. He says he's happy that he doesn't have to share them, and bizarrely, Kurt feels the same way, even though they've never really had to share Molloy with anyone before. It feels amazing, not having to divide their attention.
"Yeah? Have you been thinking about that a lot?" they ask, letting their arms snake around the man's neck, bolder and more playful, more comfortable with him now that they know who he is. "Getting to have me for real? You kept saying that during shows, but everyone just says stuff like that, ya know..."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 07:44 pm (UTC)"Baby, am I anything like anyone else?" He teases, settling Kurt with their legs spread over his thighs, his hands languidly feeling up the shape of their hips, their back, their ass. "I never say things I don't mean. When I say I've been thinking about you in my arms, in my bed, I mean it."
Then, tilting his head, Corrigan adds archly: "And when I say that you'd better kiss me before I lose my mind, I mean that too."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 08:01 pm (UTC)Kurt always assumed they would enjoy being picked up and manhandled. Another fantasy they figured would never actually see daylight. They had figured wrong, but assumed correctly. His hands on their body feel amazing, so strong and sure, and they know they would let him do anything he wanted to them.
“Is that right,” they breathe, not really a question, their arms tightening around his neck. Before he gets the chance to either lose his mind or ask them again, Kurt presses their whole body against his, legs spread wide over his strong thighs, leaving nothing hidden from him anymore, and kisses him.
It’s light and playful at first, a little bashful, as all first kisses go. But soon their impatience wins out, and they deepen the kiss with a hungry little noise, lips parting to let him inside.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 09:38 pm (UTC)"You still want this?" he manages between long, deep, lingering kisses, breathless and slick-lipped. "Knowing who I am and everything?" A quick flash of a grin, and his hands sliding back to grab possessively at their ass, pull their body easily against his. "Your boss with godawful taste in screen names?"
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 09:52 pm (UTC)They want to do everything with him.
"Yes," they breathe, not willing to stop kissing him, surging forward again and again to press their lips to his, slide their tongue against his own. They try to be mindful of the braces. His hands squeeze at their ass, and they moan happily, suddenly regretting not wearing a skirt. Pants are the worst. "Knowing who you are just makes me want this more, if I'm being honest, sir."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-01 11:48 pm (UTC)-- and then, suddenly, Corrigan’s fishing his hand, yanking their hair back hard, wrenching their face up to meet him. The soft eagerness has melted away, replaced with the commanding presence of moments before -- but stronger, more secure, because he's playing with Freyja and he knows what they like.
"I distinctly remember telling you to ask me nicely, sweetheart. I know you're able." He keeps his hand firm in their hair, eyebrows arching. He knows their safewords, their likes, their kinks. If it's too much, he knows they'll tell him.
It's almost never too much.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-02 12:22 am (UTC)It makes their cock throb with need in their slacks. Though that could just be how secure he looks right now, firm and stern, completely confident Kurt will like this. He’s right.
“S-Sir—!” Their fingers twitch and clench into Molloy’s dress shirt, their eyes growing dark with need, wet with tears, the flush of color across their face deepening. They don’t call him sir on stream, do they? Whimpering, they rock their hips down against Molloy’s as they open their mouth to beg.
“Please… Daddy, p-please,” they whine, pouting up at him. “I want you so bad, Daddy. Please, I w-want you to fuck me, I need you to, please! D-Daddy, I’ve been so good!”
no subject
Date: 2023-04-02 03:01 am (UTC)"That's my baby," he murmurs, loosening his grip slightly on their hair, cradling their body against his. "That's my needy little slut. How could I ever say no to you?" He's being much more indulgent than normal, but it's their first time physically together. Corrigan figures he can be a liiiitttle lenient.
Another issue over their racing pulse, then he turns, depositing them in a heap on the bed. "Undress, princess," he commands, squeezing at their thighs. "Hands and knees for Daddy. I wanna see how you taste."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-02 02:37 pm (UTC)"Y-Yes, Daddy," they whine, quietly sulking as they're dumped onto the bed, losing physical contact with him. So they hurry to do what he says, eager to feel his hands on them again, the press of his body to theirs, his mouth... Shivering, they unbutton the blouse and shuck off their slacks, kicking each garment off the bed one by one as they shed them. Finally free of their stupid business casual interview attire, Kurt looks like themself again, naked and flushed and freckled, so hard between their legs, exactly how Molloy knows them.
Panting, they scramble into place as told, hands and knees in the center of the bed, presenting for Daddy—and the rest of Los Angeles, if anyone knows to look, their form entirely visible through the glass wall. It doesn't deter them. Kurt is a natural at this, spreading their legs and arching their back so deep, their shuddering spine curving attractively for Molloy. For Daddy. "P-Please..."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-02 11:42 pm (UTC)Despite his own impatience, Corrigan has to take the time to savor this moment, the first time his hands slide up their freckled thighs, nudging them apart a bit more, the first time he squeezes possessively at their perfect upturned ass, the first time he sets a hand between their shoulders and presses down, guiding them to arch their back and lift their hips higher. "There you go, so pretty for me, baby," he murmurs, climbing onto the bed and grabbing their ass again.
They're soft and quivering and perfectly compliant, begging him so sweetly, and Corrigan easily manhandles them back into his lap, their thighs spread, hips lifted so high their knees are barely touching the bed. It's an undignified, exposed, helpless position, one where Kurt's entirely at Corrigan’s mercy. All they can really do is squirm and make more of those pretty noises as he slowly, luxuriously, slides the flat of his tongue over their hole.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 02:00 am (UTC)But the hands running up their thighs and squeezing their ass and manipulating them into position belong to him. To the man who’s haunted their dreams for months, who’s captivated them completely without ever getting near them. It’s no wonder they’re so reactive to his touch. It’s his hands that make them shiver, it’s his silky praise that makes them whine, it’s his tongue sliding so slowly over their hole that lures a hungry cry from their lips.
And they get to have this every day from now on. Kurt can’t believe how lucky they are. "Yes! Yes, oh Daddy, that feels so good," they moan, fingers curling into the luxurious bedsheets, thighs already quivering both from pleasure and the punishing position they’re made to hold.
Whoever said 'never meet your heroes' didn’t know what they were talking about. Kurt just hopes this is as exhilarating for Molloy as it is for them.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 05:03 am (UTC)So he stays focused, eating Kurt out with slow, focused drags of his tongue, enjoying how they shiver and squirm as he works them open gradually, taking his time. He only stops when he can feel their thighs shaking, when their whining, gasping sounds take on a desperate pitch. Then he pulls back, panting, working two fingers inside their ass and pumping them slowly.
"Gonna come for me?" he purrs, free hand sliding over their cock for the first time, an almost gentle caress. "C'mon, I wanna watch you, wanna see you come on my fingers, my tongue in you. You have permission..." Then Corrigan pauses, before diving back in to licking and sucking around his fingers, to add: "...this time."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 09:39 am (UTC)Let them hear. Let them hear how good Molloy makes them feel, how his tongue alone has them gasping and whining for more, squirming in his grasp. When he finally permits them to come—this time, he teases, just like he does online, edging them until they cry—Kurt is beside themself with need, rocking helplessly into the fingers toying with their leaking cock, bucking into his hand.
"Thank you, D-Daddy, thank you—! Ah, hah, y-yes—!" He's barely even been inside them yet, barely even touched them, but the first time Corrigan Molloy makes them come is the most dizzying pleasure of their life. They make a mess of themself, of Molloy's hand, Molloy's lap, clenching around his fingers and tongue with a keening moan.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 07:36 pm (UTC)So he takes his time working Kurt through that first pleasurable peak, never slowing or stopping the movements of his fingers inside them, his hand around their cock, his tongue sliding messy and slick around and between the scissoring digits. Even when they're twitching with overstimulation, when the moans are laced with pleading desperation, he doesn't stop.
Corrigan just reaches around, sliding his come-covered fingers into Kurt's moaning mouth, prompting them to clean him up. "You can tap out if it's too much," he teases, adding a third finger inside them, focusing his attention on that oversensitive spot, enjoying how their thighs shake uncontrollably at the intense stimulation. "I know it's much more than you're used to. It's fine if you can't take it."
He's deliberately goading them on, knowing their stubborn pride won't let them give up, not now. Even when their body starts screaming for it, for just a moment of rest, to catch their breath, to recover. Corrigan has no intention of giving that without them pleading for it.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-03 08:28 pm (UTC)But they're decidedly not in control now. It's always different when another person gets involved, sure, but none of their other conquests ever pushed and pushed and pushed the way Molloy does. Kurt goes from gasping to moaning to whimpering within minutes, every breath sharp and tinged with desperation, their fingers clenching so hard into the sheets they might just rip. He doesn't even let them come down from that high, just pushes them further and further into overstimulated bliss.
They don't stop him from pushing his fingers into their mouth, instead hungrily sucking down their own spend, moaning loudly at the taste of themself, the humiliation of being degraded like this. It feels so good, even as Molloy punishes their hole with his fingers, pushing against that spot again and again until they see stars. It's almost too much of a good thing.
Almost. Because Molloy is right once again. They're way too stubborn to beg him to stop. Freyja once did a four hour Sybian marathon, for fuck's sake. No way is a man—the most magnetic, captivating, irresistible man they've ever met, with the most sinful tongue and talented fingers—going to break them. "N-No, I— hah—! I can take it, D-Daddy!" they whine around his fingers, words slurring, adamant even as their hips jerk and stutter against his hand, as their spent cock twitches helplessly between their quivering legs.
Give it, like, five minutes.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-04 12:56 am (UTC)That way they can watch him undress, a slow, careful process, unbuttoning his shirt, his slacks, pushing them off onto the ground to be dealt with later. He holds onto his loose tie, though, climbing onto the bed and neatly looping the fabric around Kurt's wrists, tying them together and pushing them up above their head. "Hold it there," he commands simply, knowing that they'll obey. Or -- well, they'll try.
Because the next thing Corrigan does is slide back down the bed, hook those long, trembling legs over his shoulders and take their cock in his mouth, swallowing them down easily, one hand pressing firmly on their stomach so they can't squirm away. He doesn't waste a moment, doesn't build back up to the torturous, intense feeling, just immediately starts pushing Kurt back towards that peak they only just left, tongue curling around their spent length and coaxing it into hardness again.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-04 09:22 pm (UTC)So is that mouth, hot and wet and sinful as it descends on their cock, luring a shrill cry from the bound streamer. They can't even squirm away or buck up against him, those big hands holding them firmly in place. All they can do is lay there and take it as he sucks them off, already getting hard again against his tongue.
"S-Sir! Daddy, please, pleasepleasepleeease!" they cry, toes curling against his back, hips fruitlessly rocking up into his face. Kurt completely forgets they're supposed to keep their bound hands above their head, too caught up in all the too-much too-fast too-good to think, and reaches down to tangle their twitching fingers in his hair.
no subject
Date: 2023-04-05 04:40 am (UTC)"Your choice," he manages, hand coming up to pump slowly at Kurt's cock. "Come in my mouth or come from me inside you." His mouth is slick, wet, grinning. "Either way, last time you're allowed. After that, you don't come til I do. Understand?" Corrigan turns, presses his lips at the shivering inside of Kurt's thigh, knowing that either way is torturous -- either a quick release now, followed by having to hold back for god knows how long, or vice-versa.
"Choose wisely, princess."
no subject
Date: 2023-04-05 05:00 am (UTC)It's the hottest fucking thing they've ever experienced.
Kurt knows what the right answer is, of course, but they're sorely tempted to take the easy way out and come down his throat right now. His mouth is sinfully good, teasing them perfectly, that tongue driving them out of their mind. And the worst part is that he knows it. He grins up at them, even as he's slick with them, teasing the head of their cock with slow passes of his wicked tongue, like he's enjoying some candy.
Tightening their fingers in his hair, hands still bound by his expertly tied tie, Kurt whines before making a choice they're sure they'll regret in about a minute's time: "I— I wanna come from you inside me, D-Daddy," they say, blushing scarlet. "Please, Daddy, l-let me come on your cock."