sail_ooc | TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

1. but times have changed for sailors these days

[you wake up.

it doesn't matter where you were before. going to bed? dying? opening the door to face a great evil? same result. you wake up in a soft bed with starched sheets in a cool, darkened room, sunlight peeking out from behind thick curtains. maybe you're alone; maybe you aren't. maybe you immediately notice the folded paper on the bedside table near your head. if you don't, you better fix that real quick: you won't be able to even open the door before you read it.

the note itself is written in a neat hand on white card stock; there is a stylized logo of a ship with the words SERENA ETERNA printed underneath. the note reads as follows:

Dear Passenger(s),

As your cruise director, it is my great honor to welcome you aboard the Serena Eterna, your destination for fun and adventure! We know you could have chosen any cruise line for your vacation, and we're very grateful you chose ours! On behalf of the Captain, I would like to assure each and every passenger that will we do whatever it takes to fulfill all your needs and desires during your journey with us.

At your earliest possible convenience, please attend the mandatory lifeboat drill by the end of the day. I'm sure everyone is very eager to get started on all the fun and sun, but safety always comes first! You can find your life jacket in your cabin's closet; carry it to your assigned muster station on deck one, where I will take you through the drill. If you can't find me in the crowd, just look for the gal with the winning smile!

See You Real Soon!

Sincerely,
Gal Friday

you walk to deck one. you have no other choice: every time you try to step in a direction some unseen being considers "not towards deck one," you find your legs no longer move, staying stock still, frozen. whether compelled quickly by curiosity, or delayed by pure stubbornness, the result is the same, and you are left milling around with other similarly curious or stubborn people.

you see someone in uniform near the front of the crowd. she seems to be a gal, but is missing the winning smile, along with most of her other features. she seems to see you, though, rushing to your side and placing a lei around your neck with great formality. a voice, cheery but artificial, sees to come from nowhere and everywhere.]

Welcome aboard! I'm so happy you could join us!

[you touch the lei. rooster feathers, lotus seeds, and a carved circle of something white and hard, linked onto a silk string.

after the drill is completed, you are seemingly free to go. or, well, your legs work, now. and maybe that's as good as it's gonna get.]

2. tried to amend my carnivorous habit

[the space inside John's where the piano normally sits is mysteriously vacant today. as a matter of fact, the entire piano bar is silent, without so much as a muzak-inspired interpretation of Uptown Girl to hum along to.

the piano itself seems to have disappeared... for the most part. unlucky, unsuspecting passengers who enter the cabin hallway, step out onto the lower decks, or find themselves in one of the other narrow corridors of the ship, may find themselves suddenly facing down a silent, unmoving grand piano. it takes up too much space to squeeze by comfortably...

and then, the cover lifts, exposing what looks to be... teeth?

yeah. yeah, those are its teeth. and it's coming right for you.]

3. that American creation on which I feed

[it had been a difficult October for bahamanuel, the bahamanal. its territory had changed utterly, becoming alien and strange. new predators were encroaching on its hunting grounds. its position in the natural order is under threat. and so, nature finds a way.

the old timers know to be wary of large piles of clothes, but even they won’t think to look twice at the tiny lumps of garish kids’ swimsuits and sundresses - until they feel something latch onto their leg, and then several more things, and anywhere from ten to twenty balled up clothes piles try to take down their prey.

the young must learn how to hunt, after all.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His lips turn down into a worried frown upon hearing that. "Shit man... that's fucked up. I'm sorry. I won't uh... bring it up again." We don't talk about trauma, no, no, no~

He's much happier with the other line of conversation by far.

"What, you want me to put it on a platter for you? Yeah, it's an offer. Probably has to be your cabin, though, because my roommate is... a prude."

"That sucks dude. My roommate is... probably not there so.." He pulls out his phone and shoots off a quick message to John. Who he is definitely not close enough with to have had this hos before bros convo with. Oh well.

"Who'd you get stuck with? Mine's uh.. probably not a total prude but I dunno. We haven't really talked about it. Whatever, come on, I have a bet with myself to win."

Can he cram a guy named Maximum's entire dick down his throat? He's gonna find out.

Apologies in advance to John if this becomes a recurring thing.

"I wouldn't say stuck with. SecUnit is really nice. It's just not... into that stuff. Won't even watch kissing scenes in movies."

Max is following at Pratt's heel like an excited puppy. His namesake is especially excited already. Pratt will have his work cut out for him.

"Wait really? That's pretty funny actually. I suggested once trading bodies so it could be human for a bit and it got super freaked out that it would have junk then. Like really weird about that."

Pratt will lead them back to his cabin where his roommate is currently his favorite person for clearing out no questions asked (he'll make it up to him later somehow). Also having someone follow him is kinda a nice change since he's normally the one following Lucius around. Or Izzy.

As soon as he gets Max in his room he's turning to press him up against the wall, hands on his sides. "Damn, you weren't kidding about the Maximum thing huh.."

Yeah his pants are not hiding that.

"Ugh. I guess it's a good thing I'm usually up and dressed before it is, I don't know if it could handle seeing what I've got to offer." Wink wonk.

And, yeah, he has no illusions about how much his excitement is showing. He also is in short supply of shame. A hitching breath stutters out of him as he's pushed against the wall. Heat rises fast in his chest, chasing away any doubts or fears.

"Still think you can take it?"

Pratt's not about to argue that the size probably isn't the issue for SecUnit but more the existence of genetalia to begin with. He doesn't care that much about whatever the hell it's got going on in regards to being a prude.

He has a bet to win.

He hopes.

"Yeah I got this." He certainly sounds sure of himself, and that sort of cocksure confidence has served him well in the past, no reason to change now. Palming Max through his pants to get a sneak peak of the main event, he's about eighty percent sure he does in fact have this. Maybe seventy-five percent.

What he doesn't have though, is patience, going for his waistband to unbutton his pants so he can actually feel him for real. Nothing like a little skin on skin to see what he's in for.

"Mmmm," he moans as Pratt cups him. "You do seem to have a handle on the situation." Ah, welcome to the potential downside of fucking Maximum, he's full of terrible puns and he will not stop. Dick is worth it, though.

Max helpfully reaches down to undo his belt while Pratt goes for the fasten on his trousers. Who needs patience? He's already straining at the front of his black boxer briefs, just begging to be let out--all eight and a half inches of him.

"Not yet I don't, ah.. there we go." Two can play at that pun game. Though as he frees Max from his pants and reaches into his boxer briefs, yeah he's uh.. slightly unsure about getting all of this in his mouth, which doesn't mean he won't give it his best effort, but damn man.

"I was gonna say something about you changing your name for this, but uh, I'm kinda getting it now." Nothing like feeling eight and a half inches hardening under his stroking hands to change his mind.

Speaking of 'getting it', Pratt is a man of his word and gives Max a rough shove into the wall before he drops to his knees and gets to work.

"Technically, I wasn't the one who changed my name to this but, uh, you get the reasoning behind it now, huh?" His master chose this name after taking one look up and down.

"O-oh fuckkk," he groans, as he's shoved to the wall. He does love it rough. And the next exclamation is wordless but loud as Pratt goes right down on his knees and gets to work.

"MMM-yesss," his fingers curl reflexively into Pratt's hair. He won't apply any pressure, but he needs something to hold onto right now.

The time for talking is past, so he's not gonna comment on just who changed Max's name. And he kind of stopped listening once he had a face full of dick anyway. Priorities.

Pratt has a lot of hair, super thick and definitely smells like fancy shampoo and conditioner and he gives a hum of encouragement because he sure doesn't mind being jerked around. The downside is that from this angle he is definitely not doing any deepthroating of something this large, especially since Max is a full half a foot taller than him. Upside is that Pratt is rather experienced at this so he doesn't need to get all of Max in his mouth to give a quality blowjob. He's just gonna get him nice and wet so that he can wrap a hand around his shaft to move in time with the bobbing of his head.

Pratt's priorities are very valid and Max already loves him for it. He shows that love by digging his fingers in even harder through the man's thick hair until his nails can find and scrape against his scalp.

"Yes, just like that," he encourages loudly. Pratt may have his mouth full, but Max is a talker and he will keep being one until his lips are otherwise occupied. "I really like it right under the head," he adds helpfully.

That gets a moan because they're apparently both people that want someone telling them what to do. Future Pratt might realize that they're probably bad for each other, but current Pratt doesn't give a shit because this is one hell of dick and he's gonna enjoy himself.

He's real good at taking direction, so if that's what Max likes, that's what he gets. Pratt's eyes glance up at him as he drags his lower teeth along the bottom of his head. After all he said he wouldn't bite his dick off, he never said he wouldn't use his teeth.

(Insert "They were both bottoms" meme here)

Oh, teeth! Max's favorite! He hadn't even said it yet, but it's going to be pretty obvious how much of a winning move this is now. "A-ah, fuck yes! Yesssss." His hands flex on Pratt's head, gripping hard and thrusting forward involuntarily.

"Fuck. Keep that up and I'm not going to last long."

He garbles a be careful with that, man because that's his throat and its already pretty damaged thank you. But he doesn't pull away, or off, or stop. He may have lost a bet here, but he's still in it to win it.

Winning it in this scenario being: getting Max to cum.

After the whole conversation about biting and vampires Pratt probably should have figured out that teeth were a good thing way earlier than this, but his brain is peach tapioca, and it functions even worse when he's horny and all his meager intelligence is in his dick.

Max will get some more lip and tongue action before another, slightly rougher grating of Pratt's lower teeth.

"Sorry, sorry," Max hisses "I really like teeth." As if that wasn't incredibly obvious already.

All of it's good, and Pratt is well on his way to winning a big prize, but at least this time when Max feels the scrape of teeth he has enough restraint not to buck forward again. He does throb dangerously on the edge of release, hard enough Pratt can probably feel him convulsing.

"Gonna... want to back off if you don't... want a mouth full," Max warns.

He has, in fact, noticed and is using his teeth to his advantage. Oh Pratt felt that, he'd be grinning if his mouth wasn't currently occupied.

Decision time though, does he actually want a mouth full? He definitely doesn't want it on his face, or worse his hair, and he's still wearing all his clothes so getting it on his uniform also isn't ideal. But they are in his room so he can change if he wants to... Yeah, he pulls back and sits up more, stroking him with his hands now that he's all nice and wet.

"That gonna be Maximum too?" His voice is even more raspier than normal, can't imagine what he was doing with his throat to get like that.

"Usually is," Max groans.

He releases a hand out of Pratt's hair so he can brace himself against the wall. That moment is coming for him, delayed only slightly by the absence of the wet heat of Pratt's mouth. The stroking is still going to get him there really damn soon.

"Oh fuuuck. Fu--!" At the last second, he slaps a hand over his mouth to muffle the wanton cries of pleasure that bellow out of him, in time with the powerful throbs of his cock as orgasm finally overtakes him. It's up to Pratt to control where those hot white ropes end up splattering, Max is too busy trying to keep his knees from giving out.

That shit is going all over Pratt's clothes because as soon as the first F sound of that curse happens Pratt stands up. He reaches up (damn this dude is tall) and digs his fingers into Max's hair, wrenching his head down to his height so he can kiss him, while pulling that hand away from his face. Gonna take care of those moans for him like a gentleman.

Pratt is way stronger than he looks, and he presses up against Max to keep him from buckling over if his legs give out. He's got you buddy.

He didn't think the moment could get any more intense--but he's seeing white as his head is wrenched down for that kiss. He makes no attempt at all to control his volume now, letting the noise spill into their connected mouths, entrenched in the bliss washing over him. Pratt's surprising strength pinning him in place makes him forget the very last shreds of his restraint. Fuck his weak knees, fuck any sense of propriety, he clings to Pratt like his life hangs in the balance until he's completely milked dry. And even after, he's whimpering against Pratt's mouth, panting like he's just run a marathon. If Pratt lets him go now, he's likely to drop like a sack of potatoes.

Eventually Pratt pulls back because while he doesn't really need food, he sure as fuck needs air. But he keeps his grip on Max, holding him up so he doesn't collapse. Pratt has been there before, he knows what it's like. He's also been dropped like a sack of potatoes, he won't let that happen to someone else.

"I got you." Whispered low and panting, just holding onto Max. He'll move them over to the bed once he's caught his breath and doesn't need to actually carry the other man.

"You sure did," Max wheezes, laughing breathily as he finally comes back to himself.

After a minute more, he has recovered enough to transfer over to the bed with Pratt. But, the look he's giving the deputy is one of desire, still. He's not down and out yet.

"Want me to get you back?"

"Even when I lose a bet I win?" He grins, face still flushed. "Real generous to a guy you just met."

But he's definitely moving closer because, while nowhere near as impressive, his own dick is angry with being confined in his pants when all the fun stuff is out here. Also he's just so touch starved and the only time he's okay with touching is during sex or fighting, so he doesn't really want to let Max get away yet.

"I think it's only fair since you've shown me such a good time. I like to give as good as I get."

Max may boast about his own size when it serves him, but he's not actually that concerned over others' sizes. A dick is attached to a person and as long as he likes the person, there's nothing to get fussed about. And he can tell just from looking how much Pratt is aching for his attention. So, he's quick to reach for the zipper in front of the deputy's trousers and slide it down, so he can reach a hand for that jailbreak.

Still, he pauses long enough to say, "My knees are still wobbly so either stand in front of me so I can sit and suck or sit next to me on the bed."

"Damn, a true philanthropist. What'd I do right to deserve someone like you in my bed?" That's a way nicer way of thinking than he's used to. If he had known back home that not being an alpha dickhead would get him people who actually cared he would have stopped trying to be such a dudebro years ago.

He groans and closes his eyes as his pants are undone, tenting his boxer briefs as soon as he has enough room to do so. "Let's..." He wets his lips as his voice cracks, already panting and he's barely being touched. Maybe because he's been using his mouth for something other than talking. "Let's both be lazy. We deserve that."

Scooching into a better position he reaches out to pull Max to him, wanting to be able to touch him even if they're both still wearing most of their clothes.

"Well, you give good head for one thing," Max jokes, trying to make light while internally he's fighting not to let that little voice argue how he's not really the model citizen Pratt seems to be making him out to be. He's not worthy of that much praise.

"Yeah. But, don't worry, my mouth is still ready to work~"

Max moves in closer too, as if magnetized, turning to face Pratt so he'll be able to take the challenge head on. He craves the touch, always. Always wants more. And he gives in return, pulling down Pratt's boxer briefs so he can get a good look at his prize. Once he gets that eyeful, he will flick his gaze back to Pratt's face, and very pointedly lick his lips. As if there was ever any doubt how eager Max is to please his partner.

TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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cw: sex stuff just out here on the TDM with no shame

cw: in front of god and everyone

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good place to end?