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TDM off-shoot
Full TDM scenarios here
While most anyone would probably feel a bit naked after being accosted by a tailor robot and left in nothing but a pair of Valentine's underwear, Gen feels especially strange. He's used to dressing in layers, the better to play a role or secret away something that may be needed later. Then again, thanks to the robot's piercing stare, he's also feeling strange for another reason. A reason this guy in front of him just may be able to help him with.
"You know, I hear the only way out of this maze is to copy the statues. If you do a good enough job, they'll let you pass."
He has heard no such thing, and he's only lucked upon the correct answer in trying to think of a convincing argument for copying the sexy gardeners.
While most anyone would probably feel a bit naked after being accosted by a tailor robot and left in nothing but a pair of Valentine's underwear, Gen feels especially strange. He's used to dressing in layers, the better to play a role or secret away something that may be needed later. Then again, thanks to the robot's piercing stare, he's also feeling strange for another reason. A reason this guy in front of him just may be able to help him with.
"You know, I hear the only way out of this maze is to copy the statues. If you do a good enough job, they'll let you pass."
He has heard no such thing, and he's only lucked upon the correct answer in trying to think of a convincing argument for copying the sexy gardeners.
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He pulls the hood back and lets more of his long hair spill out, then returns for a grope of Gen's dick. There's nothing like the press of flesh in his palm but he's still got those heart-themed briefs on, so Iroha plays with it a bit, stretching the fabric tight over the head then swiping his thumb over the mangled red pattern. He doesn't say anything which is almost more of a sign of how aroused he really is than the outline of his own cock jutting up against the crack of Gen's ass.
As fun as it is to tease, Iroha doesn't. He strokes Gen with a confident firmness then follows along with breaking the mimicry attempt. As soon as he can guide Gen into leaning forward less, Iroha puts his mouth on the back of Gen's shoulder. If he can't kiss there's something missing; he acts hungry for the taste, ending with a soft moan.
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A few strands of hair brush against his shoulders and then the soft, warm wetness of a kiss.
"You're good with your hands." It's an explanation to himself as to why he follows so easily and a genuine compliment rather than any sort of manipulative flattery. That said, if it gets him to keep rubbing like that, there will be no complaints.
He thought standing straighter might make it more difficult to continue his own efforts, but he doesn't need leverage to keep his hips moving, especially not now that there's a hard length to slide against. Now that they're closer, it only feels more intense.
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"Mm. Thank you." He'd barely paid attention to the compliment he'd heard from others but at least he can say he's still got the skills. The kissing stops for him to talk but resumes with a nibble on Gen's earlobe. He's lost sight of their being in a garden under a compulsion.
Focused, he tugs down the briefs and feels more than sees the second Gen's cock is freed. He squeezes one hand back up his thigh, the brief left stretched across the muscle, and resumes jerking him off bare-handed. It isn't long before he slows and says, "Will you suck on my fingers?"
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His response is far less needy.
"I'll do just about anything if it means you go back to what you were doing."
He opens his mouth enough to let Iroha's fingers slip inside, and uses his tongue as much as his lips to caress and wet them. He can't help a little groan and a rough thrust back against Iroha when he pulls his mouth free.
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"Mmnh," he's very unabashedly vocal, turned on by the saliva sounds and the thought of how it must taste to Gen. He'd just had that hand wrapped around his dick seconds ago.
Iroha licks the side of Gen's neck, somewhere near the same time his fingers are released. That felt good, he's desperate to pull down the kawaii onesie now and fumbles between that and keeping his torso close enough to use the ample spit on Gen's dick. It's not the smoothest maneuver. Iroha yanks down the zipper, immeasurably glad that this outfit doesn't have paws. The metal line goes down forever - all the way from between his clavicle bones to just above his pubic hair. Nothing underneath, Iroha shimmies out of it with one arm first and actually does feel a little apologetic for the time needed to let go and do the other.
His closed fist is not off Gen's dick for long, though. By now his body is burning up and his urges are stronger than wanting to be respectful of a new partner. The noises coming from his throat are indicative if the slide of his cock between Gen's thighs isn't enough.
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While Iroha does his best to become more bare than bear, Gen thrusts up against his hand when his focus wavers, not wanting to waste a second of this new slickness. There's no attempt to be clever during the short pause to get into position, his only reply a quiet yes when he's stroking him again. He only has attention for the orgasm steadily creeping up on him and things that can get him there. Sometimes he's a selfish man.
But not too selfish. Gen presses his thighs together to give Iroha more resistance. Even with heart-covered fabric stretched into a barrier that keeps his erection from actually touching sensitive skin, the warmth and fullness of it comes through and stirs him up more.
"Just a little more. Please." So much for not wanting to sound needy. His voice is dripping with it.
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Sometimes it wasn't clear who would hit that crest first. Iroha wanted to see it more than he wanted it for himself, knew the feeling of Gen coming in his hand would make up for the half-lacking friction of not getting to fuck his ass. Gen's greed all built up to bursting without any pretense wasn't a bad thing.
His unoccupied hand goes to hold Gen around his waist, his palm flat just under the mark of his navel. Iroha's watching, but the closer he gets the more inconsistently he can stop from closing his eyes.
He kept the rhythm steady and tight. Rocking against him, his hips thrusting between Gen's legs indelicately. He loved playing games but there was nothing going on here but wanting it raw, any-hole-will-do sex. Or thighs, in this case. He hadn't given Gen's thighs a single thought until they were doing his cock nicely, smooth and squeezed enough to get him off soon.
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"Yes yes yes yessss." His body stretches tight as his cocks pulses in Iroha's hand.
His apologies to the statue if he hasn't moved far enough away to avoid staining it with his release. No apologies to Iroha because he's the one who brought him to this point. The come dripping over his hands should be a mark of pride.
He's left so sated, he can barely stay upright, let alone keep his legs together to help Iroha get there, too, but he won't back down from his end of the deal right now. Blue balls never got anyone a return engagement.
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"Fuck," he said at last. Pretty eloquent, uh no. But it was a very heartfelt fuck of enjoying Gen's orgasm. Once the man started going to jelly Iroha didn't stay for long, although he appreciated the attempt. He quickly brought his hand around to spread and jerk off into Gen's seed, still holding him close. They might not know each other well but Iroha wasn't going it alone at the last second, he wanted Gen to feel what he'd done to his partner too. All the moans, getting less and less paced out, the obvious motion of his arm and softness of his loose hair going every whichplace when Iroha laid his head on Gen's shoulder.
"Aahn, hn.."
Gen's earlier question to himself received more evidence to examine when Iroha bit him, then came hard onto the backs of his thighs. Messily, very careless and maybe a little purposefully destructive of that heart-print.
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They're messy and the reality of standing around naked in public is going to sink in soon enough but for now, Gen would like nothing more than to lean into Iroha and let his head loll back and...oh, that's a change.
Now that he's capable of widening his focus beyond their personal bubble, he can see that the statue's arm resting on the fence is not only keeping her upright through a thorough plowing but is also pointing towards the newly opened space in the hedge wall. It's a bit of luck that he's still too mellow to allow his shock at having been right about the effects of imitating the statues show.
"Was it as good for you as it was for the greenery?"
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"Yes, very." He could chat naked in the grass if he didn't suspect the door wouldn't stay open. Iroha kissed Gen again, softer. He can appreciate a good mutually beneficial affair.
Taking ginger steps out of the pink bear guts pooled at his foot, Iroha looks around and picks up the toy he'd sent flying earlier. And....uses its faceless back as a cumrag. Clearly the intended purpose.
"Until next time?" He looks up to Gen, asking somewhat the same question in return. Given his nature it wouldn't be the last time he'd look for an easygoing roll in the figurative hedgemaze.
1/2
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"Until next time." Maybe he won't even use a flimsy excuse to proposition him next time.
"I'll keep an eye out for interesting statues."
Gen steps through the opening, looking around for the next path to follow. Now where's that fashionbot? He could use some fresh underwear.