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.]

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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.

Pratt's cocky grin is back in action! He may have lost the bet, but all he really wants is for both of them to come away satiated and satisfied, and so far that's looking like good odds.

He's almost painfully hard, not just from the actual acts they've been doing but almost everything Max does is a turn-on and Pratt can only handle so much of that. He's a simple man who gets really excited when people seem to be into him for reals. The bar is honestly so low.

There's a soft huff as he's freed from his boxer briefs, his dick nowhere close to Max's size, but very hard, thick and curved up against his lower abdomen. One of his hands goes to Max's head, tangling in his hair to rub his fingers into his scalp, "Mmph. You could look at me like that all day..."

He's just gonna soak in how eager Max is. Not that other people weren't when he's had trysts in the past, but this is some next level horniness and Pratt doesn't get that very often.

Max hums happily when Pratt's fingers slip back into his hair. He's putting some extra fire in his bedroom eyes since Pratt likes that so much.

"I think you'll like this next part even better," he says as he tips forward to kiss Pratt sweetly on his tip. A little hello, nice to meet you, to get things started.

He'll gently bring his fingers to a close around Pratt's shaft and give a few slow pumps. He is already so fucking hard, it's fantastic. Still, Max is in no big hurry. He can take his time slowly drawing his tongue up the base of Pratt's cock, tasting...savoring.

Pratt has zero defense against bedroom eyes, if he could get any harder he would just from that look.

"Yeah I'm pretty sure I w-will." He huffs and closes his eyes at that warm tongue against him. He's had plenty of sex on the ship (well for a guy who freaks out when touched anyway) but not very much foreplay or just blow jobs. So forgive him if he's gonna enjoy the fuck out of this like he's a teenager again. "Gonna torture me huh?"

"If you're into that, sure~"

Max drags his tongue down the other side, and then up again, swirling over Pratt's head and then giving a teasing flick. He looks up and smiles, wanting to see what kind of Face Pratt is wearing now.

He will keep his eyes up, making direct eye contact if Pratt's aren't still closed, while he lowers his mouth down and slowly sucks Pratt's cock between his lips. He's still going deliberately, torturously slow.

"I think I might be..." He has no idea, no one's ever tried it. So this'll be a learning experience as well as extremely fucking hot. He huffs out another breath with his eyes closed before groaning and opening them to gaze down at the man with his head in his lap.

"Goddamn..." He gives a small buck of his hips because that is so warm and he wants so bad, but he's not gonna shove Max down, not when he's still looking right at him, and looking like that. "You're some kind of succubus."

"Sure feels like it," Max teases, pulling back enough that he can move his lips to speak. And then he laughs, a surprised but flattered sound. Succubus? Him?

Since he needs his mouth to answer that, he switches back to stroking, grazing a thumb affectionately over Pratt's head to spread the moisture around.

"Nah, I'm just a human who really, really loves to see people having a good time. Don't feel like you need to hold back with me." Before he gives Pratt a chance to protest, he slides his mouth right back down, this time with a determination to take Pratt in all the way to the back of his throat.

Oh he's definitely a succubus, even without his mouth around him, Pratt is thrusting into his hand, very very needy.

"Where the fuck have you been my whole life?" Though apparently the answer is: enthralled to a vampire and getting snacked on nightly. Pratt is starting to realize just how much he missed out on by being around the same people his entire life in a small town in Montana. No wonder he went kinda nuts with the unsafe hookups when he was in New York.

He groans and digs both hands into Max's hair as he deep throats him in one go. Pratt isn't that large, so it's probably easy for Max to fully engulf him, but damn if Pratt hasn't gotten much of this in his life. He's had a ton of sex, he's only had a small percentage of really good sex. Keeping his hands on Max's scalp he holds him there with light pressure for just a few seconds to really enjoy the sensation before letting him up again. He's not gonna last very long with this kind of attention.

Yeah, Max isn't going to answer that. It would be a mood killer to say "in my master's house" probably.

Besides, talking isn't what he's interested in doing right now. He groans low in his throat as Pratt holds him down, vibrating around that cock sitting against the back of his throat. He's apparently had plenty of practice holding his gag reflex back. He's a well-trained boy.

Once Pratt releases that pressure, he will draw back, but slowly--in no hurry to let this snack go free. It hasn't escaped his notice how easily this might push Pratt over the edge so, as he begins to lean back in and suck Pratt back down, he keeps his pace leisurely. He could suck cock all night, there's no need to rush to the finish.

Pratt isn't going to think about why Max is so good at this. In fact he's not gonna think about anything for the next little while as his brain has oozed out of his skull and down his spine to pool in his pelvis somewhere.

"Fuuuuuck." Very eloquent as he pulls one hand away from Max's hair and uses it to brace behind himself so he doesn't fall over onto the bed. Not that he'd mind at this point because it certainly feels like Max is straight up sucking his soul out through his dick. The slower pace is appreciated so Pratt doesn't embarrassingly blow his load in the next thirty seconds, but he whines a little because everything feels too good. There's a hint that Pratt is probably pretty noisy during sex.

Max's lips keep threatening to split into a grin...which makes sucking a little harder to pull off. But he can't help it. He loves listening to his partners enjoying themselves. He could almost get off on the sound alone, and now he's getting the idea that Pratt could be coaxed to make quite a sexy racket. He longs to hear it. He draws back just long enough to say so.

"Hey, Pratt, I love when people get noisy, so don't hold back. Okay? 'Cause I'm about to take your whole load down my throat." He doesn't wait for a reply before he goes all the fucking way down on the man.

"Easy for you to say," He pants, "You're not the one -FUCK. Fuck fuck..."

Well he was going to protest about the fact that he has neighbors, because in his zero brain cell state he doesn't remember that one side is empty now and the other houses an actual dog. That protest turns into a whining curse because his whole body shudders, suddenly overloaded in sensation by a warm and eager mouth. Hope Max was ready right then because Pratt practically comes on command, spurting down the back of Max's throat with a guttural growl.

Enjoy this whimpery, panting mess of a Deputy afterwards.

"Hm?" Max makes that into a teasing question by inflection alone, so he doesn't have to back down.

His (pun intended) cocky smile is as wide as can be while he drinks down that hot explosion in the back of his throat. He's clearly a champ at this, doesn't even gag. He waits until he's sure Pratt's completely done before he sucks off slowly, using his tongue to clean away any last little bits clinging to the head.

And the look of satisfaction on his face while he pointedly licks his lips clear is like a cat who just got into the cream. So smug, and yet with eyes brightly shining with joy.

"I got you good~" he adds a tender little kiss to Pratt's head again, just for emphasis.

"Goddamn succubus." He really is some sort of sex demon, Pratt can tell. Theres a little whine at the smooch, but not really of protest.

He flops back on the bed, dragging Max with him. Time for awkward half-dressed post-blow job cuddles.

Max just laughs as he allows himself to be pulled down for cuddles. There's nothing he'd love more right now; he'll cling tight to Pratt for as long as he tolerates it.

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TEST DRIVE MEME #8

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good place to end?