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'Oh god,' Badou gasped.
'Don't use His name in vain,' the bishop chastised, and bit down on Badou's naked shoulder.
Badou wanted to give a sarcastic reply - the bishop shouldn't be one to talk about blasphemy, not when he was fucking Badou with a dildo on his own damn altar.
But that sharp bite and the twist of the clear glass toy inside Badou that pressed against him right there, robbed him of the ability to talk. He just groaned.
'You sound sexy, Badou!' purred the priest, steadily plunging the dildo into the redhead's body. 'Maybe one day, when you repent all your sins, I'll actually fuck you with my cock.'
'F-fuck,' Badou gasped. The bishop thought Badou was not worthy of his holy cock, was that it? What did he want, Badou to be an angel? Maybe dress him up like he dressed Nill? And why did the idea of being unworthy turn Badou on so much?
The bishop sensed it somehow. He bent down to Badou's ear, his hair tickling Badou's skin, and whispered: 'But we both know that isn't going to happen, don't we? You are such a sinful creature, Badou! I can smell it all over you - the stench of tobacco, a stigma that shows how you ruin your body. And a smell of sex, the deadly sin of lust...'
The bishop slid his palm down Badou's naked, sweat-slicked chest, pausing to tweak his nipples, making Badou whimper, and whispered in Badou's ear again: 'You're hot all over, and sweating and panting for relief. That is beautiful. That is the lure of sin.' At that the bishop bit Badou's ear, making the redhead groan.
'Please,' Badou begged. Later he'd give the bishop an earful about all that shitty preaching, but now he wanted to get off, his cock was aching, and the slick slide of the dildo in his arse was getting simply too much.
The bishop snorted with amusement. In moments like this he regretted he was blind - it would have been so sweet to see the usually mouthy, confident Badou squirm and beg. 'Better give the boy what he needs, or he might explode,' thought the bishop.
He reached lower, gripped Badou's hot, leaking cock and pumped it in sync with the dildo's thrusts in Badou's arse. The bishop could not help but give a satisfied smile at Badou's moans and grunts. And just when Badou was about to climax, they were interrupted.
'What the fuck?' The bishop heard Heine's indignant, disbelieving voice and gave a forceful thrust with the dildo in Badou's arse. The redhead screamed and came, immediately blacking out.
Badou slowly resurfaced after an absolutely mind-blowing orgasm. He heard angry voices, and even through his blurry, blessed-out state recognised Heine’s angry growl. Badou didn’t feel like opening his eyes, not yet. He just lied there and listened.
‘What the fuck were you doing with him, you fucking bastard?’ Heine said.
‘That was rather obvious, wasn’t it?’ the bishop sounded real smug.
‘You keep your perverted hands off him, or I’ll rip them off, ya hear?’ Heine snarled.
‘And why are you so concerned about that? Could it be you want to switch places with him?’ sarcastically asked the bishop. Badou gulped – that sentence made him imagine things. The bishop fucking Heine with a dildo, damn, that would be like beyond hot.
Heine obviously didn’t think that – Badou heard suspicious noise and made an effort to open his eyes. He saw Heine grabbing the bishop by the throat, not strong enough to choke, but to give a warning. Heine said in a low, threatening voice: ‘You keep your fucking hands to yourself, you got that?’
‘Oh, I see,’ the bishop continued, as if he was not a second away from getting strangled. ‘It’s me you want to switch places with, isn’t it? Lusting after Badou, are you? Never pegged him as your type...’
‘Shut the fuck up!’ Heine roared, and pushed the bishop away. Badou’s brain cells tried to scramble together to understand what the hell was going on. Could it really be that Heine was interested in him? Interested sexually? There was no way. Badou was firmly convinced Heine was asexual. He probably thought the thing between his legs was there for pissing only. But his behaviour now was giving totally different signals...
‘Why don’t you two sort it out yourselves?’ the bishop suggested, deftly avoided another grab Heine made for his throat, and disappeared in the dark recesses of the church.
Badou felt it was time to do something, so he propped himself up on his elbows and tried to get off the altar. His limbs felt still rubbery, and he would have liked to stay there and enjoy the afterglow. ‘Damn Heine, always spoiling the fun,’ he thought.
Badou didn’t even manage to move when Heine was by his side already, looking down on him with a feral expression.
‘Um,’ Badou said, suddenly feeling cold and vulnerable, and somewhat scared. Heine’s next move was almost quicker that the eye could see – he grabbed Badou’s hair and pulled, hissing: ‘You like being his bitch, huh?’
That was obviously a rhetorical question, Badou decided. Heine let go, and with the same alarming speed spread Badou’s legs that Badou had chastely closed when the whole Heine vs. The bishop confrontation had begun. Before Badou even managed to protest, Heine jammed two fingers in Badou’s relaxed arsehole and growled: ‘You’re all loose and wet, you slut! Do you like him that much?’
Badou hissed at the rough intrusion into his body, but managed to answer: ‘I don’t like him, we were just having sex!’ He wisely did not mention that his sex life was none of Heine’s business because apparently Heine thought it was, and pissing Heine off would not be a clever move. Not when Heine had two fingers up Badou’s arse.
‘Oh really? That means you’ll let anyone fuck you, then?’ mockingly asked Heine. ‘I guess I’ll have a go, too.’
‘Wait, Heine, that’s not a good idea!’ Badou said with some alarm. Actually he thought it would actually be an amazingly good idea. Heine was sex on legs, who would say ‘no’ to such offer? But with Heine in such a foul mood it might be dangerous. Badou tried to squirm away from Heine, but, of course, with zero success.
Heine undid his trousers with his free hand and pulled out his hard cock. Badou noted that its colour was in quite a stark contrast with Heine’s pale skin. And then Badou’s mind shut down because Heine shoved his dick right into Badou’s arsehole. Badou’s eyes almost rolled with pleasure – it fit inside him perfectly, so much better than the glass dildo had.
And then Heine started moving. Badou could not help but moan, while Heine snarled with each thrust: ‘Mine! Mine! Mine!’ Badou would have found it amusing or alarming at other times, but at that moment, when his brain was nearly shutting down with the delight of getting properly fucked, he could only hiss an answer: ‘Yes...’
Things got even more intense when Heine bent down and bit Badou’s throat. Not like the sharp, little nips that the bishop had given Badou, but a proper hard bite. Badou could have sworn that it drew blood, and yet it felt so wild, so dangerous and so very much like Heine. Badou orgasmed long and hard, his cock spewing his seed all over his stomach. Through the waves of pleasure Badou felt Heine’s dick twitch inside him, and he understood Heine had just come, as well.
After a minute or so Badou said: ‘Heine, get off me. This altar is killing my back!’ Heine pulled out with a hiss and got up. He wiped himself off with the altar cloth, casting a glance on the thoroughly debauched Badou, who was sitting up and rubbing his back, where an angry red line from the altar edge was imprinted.
‘I meant it,’ Heine announced, and, seeing Badou’s uncomprehending look, explained: ‘You are mine. If I catch you messing with the priest again, I’ll castrate you. And him.’
Badou’s good cheer returned when he saw that Heine was not homicidally angry anymore: ‘Don’t I get a say in it, Heine-kun? I might have objections, after all, I’m popular!’
Heine looked at Badou as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that Badou might disagree: ‘All right, you get a say. You can say yes.’
Badou rolled his eyes. Way to be romantic, Heine, well done. Still, he said: ‘Yeah, whatever. Ok, yes. Now where did my cigs go?’
The End