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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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"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.
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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.
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"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.
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"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.
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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.
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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.
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He flops back on the bed, dragging Max with him. Time for awkward half-dressed post-blow job cuddles.
good place to end?