Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Cat's Life ❯ Limelight ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Shinashi 
Quatre is forced to perform at the impromptu party. Little does he know the inbred talent he already has.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 03.21.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 391 | Status: Completed
Quatre is forced to perform at the impromptu party. Little does he know the inbred talent he already has.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Adventure / Fantasy / Romance | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 03.21.2008 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.8K | Visits: 391 | Status: Completed
AN: I just achieved one of the most successful sex scenes I've ever written. Please review. Because Trowa's and Quatre's relationship is oh so important, and I want to know how ya'll feel about it!
Kix: I totally stole the wax idea- but I've always wanted wax, so is it really stealing? Thanks for reviewing!
Warning: Sex, people, sex! But it's sort of romantic in a way. And intense. Wax. There's wax, my dears. Don't like? Don't read. Next chapter! Duo and Heero- muhahaha!
Summary: Quatre is forced to perform at the impromptu party. Little does he know the inbred talent he already has.
Limelight
Finally, Quatre had time to reflect. While Sally and the others tended to the three beaten slaves, and they were carefully attended to almost full healing except for scars, Quatre sat next to Trowa, whose mask of a face was contorted minimally with relief. They were still holding hands, as if they were too shy to let go but also too shy to bring up their joining.
"He's going to make us have sex in front of everyone," Trowa said slowly, his soft baritone sending chills down Quatre's spine.
"I don't mind."
Trowa looked at him with his one visible green eye. "Master meant 'we' as in the whole castle."
Anxiety set in at this statement. Quatre didn't want anymore people to see him naked than those who had already seen him. Besides, large crowds, of strangers, really made him nervous and prone to accidents that earned him no small amount of beatings from his father.
"Don't worry... Quatre."
Oh, how Quatre loved the sound of his name from those full lips, and he also adored the sharp eye gazing at him with such genuine concern. The blonde hadn't felt this happy since Iria came out of the blue; it was nostalgic and refreshing.
"Can I be on top?" Quatre asked suddenly.
If Trowa was surprised at this question he showed no concern, except for a slight blush, and then he nodded. "I like being bottom," he said quietly, almost as if he didn't want Quatre to hear him.
"I'm not familiar with either position," Quatre answered, trying to keep the conversation, "But being on top seems to give that person more control, and I'll be too nervous not to have that."
Trowa squeezed his hand, as if wanting to say something, but he didn't.
"Is that what you like, Trowa?" He was whispering, and Trowa's blush deepened. "Do you enjoy losing control?"
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes far off in some imagining, and an erection forming between his legs.
Quatre was similarly aroused, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, so he put the conversation on pause for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Surpris ingly to Quatre, even if he did see how well their treatment was going, Milliardo, Noin and Wufei were able to walk and get dressed for the evening. Still, they had the looks of the wounded on their faces, no doubt recounting the terrible time of their punishment. Noin gratefully accepted help getting into her clothing, while Wufei and Milliardo stubbornly stumbled to dress themselves.
Everyone was in the master's bedroom, having taken their clothing racks from his large walk-in closet, which seemed like a whole other room in itself, and were dressing in a similar style. They had argued for a bit what that style would be, but everyone seemed to agree when Heero told them that today the master would be in the mood for tight leather.
"Isn't he always in the mood for tight leather?" Quatre asked himself, and Duo, who was picking out his clothes because of his total lack of fashion sense, laughed with his whole body.
"Oh, man. Seriously though, he doesn't like to dress up as much as he likes to dress us up," Duo said. "Here put this on, a nice break from those ass squeezers."
Even if they were a nice pair of leather pants, they still squeezed his ass, but it was a comfortable squeezing. Duo gave him no shirt, letting the whole world see his formless chest and abdomen, but he did give him gloves that molded itself all the way to his biceps, if you could call the soft flesh there muscle. And like everyone else, he had a thin stripe of a collar placed around his neck, a rose pendant hanging from the middle.
Everyone was a bit more excited, especially the girls, as they rubbed oil on one another- the boys- or put make-up on cleaned faces. Then they went and set up the lobby almost like their master's room, except there were chairs next to the pillows and boxes of toys were strewn everywhere. Then they wheeled from the Playroom long ottomans, with enormous, thick cushions strewn about on top. Quatre had an inkling what they were for. He wasn't sure what the large bowls of wax were for as they were set upon small, low-heat fires, and he feared the clean gleaming utensils used to pierce whatever part needed to be pierced.
Then they began making finger-food and setting about glasses and tables. With how quickly they prepared everything, Quatre knew this was a fairly common event to have. There was a mark of urgency in their movements, as if doing it quickly and more effieciently would please the master who wasn't there to see them.
Then Catherine called the other masters individually to the party, and they all accepted, much to Quatre's chagrin, for he still didn't want to 'perform', as the others called it, in front of the strangers.
"I'm nervous, Duo. I always seem to mess up these things!" Quatre cried as some of the masters arrived with an entourage of finely dressed slaves, who seemed obedient and able, automatically going for the wine and foodstuffs to get to their masters. The more people who came, the more distraught he became.
"Dude! Don't worry. The more you worry, the better your chances to fuck up," Duo said wisely. Then he looked over his shoulder at someone. "Yo, cat-boy, forgot your name, but hold his hand. He seems calmer when you do."
Trowa's large, bony hand claimed his small, clammy one, and Duo nodded approvingly. Then he ran off, muttering about how Milliardo and Wufei had made themselves conveniently scarce.
"When master comes, we'll stick to him, alright?"
"What?" Quatre was so anxious, he could hardly pay attention. "How will that help?"
Trowa squeezed his hand. "He'll help you calm down."
Speaking of which, from the door came Treize's tall self, fully dressed in his usual leather and a cape embroidered with roses. He looked calm and mesmerizing, with an air full of charisma. The master's, almost involuntarily, stood quickly to greet him, going over with thin demeanours. They did the regular shaking of hands in a small group, and to this group Trowa took him.
When they finally stood by master, Quatre's heart well in his throat, Trowa brushed him lightly with his body. Treize looked down and smiled, putting Trowa in one arm and the nervous Quatre in the other, he introduced them both.
"All of you know my wonderful cat-creature Trowa, but I don't believe I've shown any of you my delightful new acquisition, Quatre Winner, whose brains may be the most convoluted on this side of the continent. Say hello, Quatre."
"Hello, sirs," Quatre murmured politely, looking into the face of one master to the next. Two of them were old men, Quinze and Lord Barton, two of them were young, Alex and Mueller, one of them was enormous, Theodore, and another looked like a rat with a balding head and a thin mustache, Lord Septum. They were so much more inferior to his master, whose head was held high with superiority, plus Treize smoothed his back with a rubbing gloved hand, that Quatre was calmed. Trowa gave him a small smile, a sweet one, and he smiled back.
Theodore, chomping away at small sandwiches, said greedily, "You gonna' show 'em off, Treize? 'Tis the least you can do since you barely paid rent this month."
A smooth fake smile spread over Treize's face. "Of course," he said, ushering them all to an ottoman. Trowa gracefully climbed on while Quatre shakily sat down, nervous all over again.
"Let's spice things up a bit," Treize offered, bringing them a stand of the wax mixture, a wooden ladle in the center. "So that these bastards will leave me alone about the damn money."
"Wait, Master! What am I supposed to do?" Quatre asked desperately. Trowa was lying down, removing all his clothing with the subtle grace of a professional stripper, using only the tips of his fingers.
"Since Trowa is on his back, I presume you're going to be on top?" To Quatre's frantic nod he said, "Kiss and caress him as you will, Quatre, then I will tell you to start pouring wax on his body. Slowly. From his neck to his toes."
"Okay." That sounded easy enough.
Treize smiled mischievously. "The only problem you may have is holding back. By the time I tell you that you're finished, arousal will have built inside you, ready to explode. Do a good job and I'll let you." At these words, Quatre's cock sprang to life, and Trowa's oiled limbs around his didn't make it any better. "Good luck," Treize said last, and sat down in the middle chair between the rest of the other masters of the castle.
Quatre looked doen at Trowa, whose abs were more definite in texture, sinewy and curved at the same time. He had his arms raised above his head and a seductive look shining brightly in his now smoldering green eyes. To his surprise, Quatre found he couldn't resist kissing and touching Trowa's body, and his now familiar hands massaged his muscles with the professional care of one who had done the act a thousand times.
Their tongues battled one another, though they had already known who would be the winner, the dominant one of the two. Trowa pushed up against him with the same amount of agressiveness as when Treize pressed down into him the day before, in his home. Now, on the red ottoman that contrasted sharply with Trowa's creamy white skin, he shoved deep into the hollow of his groin, grinding and thrusting wildly.
Trowa gasped in pleasure, and Quatre found he wanted to hear it again. He clutched Trowa's waist with a devilish grin pressed their swollen cocks flush against each other, squeezing them. The cat-demon's mouth dropped impulsively, crying out, and Quatre groaned at the sound.
"Quatre, I hate to spoil your fun," Treize interuppted, quite impressed with his two newest slave's interaction. "Use the wax now. Might I remind you that wax dries quickly."
With that advice, Quatre, after untangling his sweaty, oily limbs from a mewling Trowa, took the ladle, thought for a minute, and then poured it slowly over his standing erection.
Holding his elbows over his head, Trowa trembled in either pleasure or pain, and a low hiss escaped his lips.
"Trowa? Does it feel good? Or does it hurt?" Quatre had little drops fall directly on his nipples, which hardened as the wax dried. Tears left the corners of Trowa's eyes.
"B-Both. More." He licked his lips and repeated, "More." Suddenly, he transformed himself in Full Dress, catlike ears flickering excitedly. His eyes were glowing even more abnormally than before and the strong muscles of his body twitched as he purred.
He let the red wax pool in his navel, and the wax seem to flow naturally around the base of his cock, covering the curly brown hairs. Everywhere his skin was becoming red, his jutting organ purple. Then on his legs was where the melted liquid found itself. Large, hot amounts ran down his thighs, the long bones of his shin, and between his toes.
Quatre was so aroused, just as Treize had said, that he became clumsy with the ladle, acidentally dropping wax on Trowa's face and hair as he attempted to spoon some on his neck.
"On your stomach, Trowa," came Treize's husky voice, and this made Quatre again aware of the other people in the room. The slaves were almost as entranced as their masters, Alex and Mueller among them having their beautiful female slaves nurse their engorged organs.
Trowa's claws clutched the cushion beneath him as Quatre resumed pouring wax, this time on his arching back.
"Ah! W-Wait!" was his tortured cry as Quatre pulled his tail and smoothed the heated ladle around his ass, dropping heavily large amounts of wax between his buttocks. The lithe body twitched irregularly and Trowa let out a scream in anguish, and from the sound of it Quatre just knew, he could feel it all over, that Trowa was close to orgasm.
"Stop, Quatre," ordered Treize. "Put the ladle down. Fuck him. Now. He should have prepared himself." He snapped his fingers and automatically Duo went between his legs, unzipped his leather pants, and began to blow him.
Quatre knew what he meant. While oiling themselves, without real feeling really, they had stretched themselves with fingers and toys, trying to do it all businesslike with the least pleasure imaginable. Trowa helped him while showing him how to do it by himself.
Without preamble, Quatre entered him, pushing aside much dried wax, into the wonderfully tight, wet heat that was the Feline Demon Trowa Barton. Gods, it felt like heaven on his tortured length. With strength he didn't even know he had, he flipped Trowa over onto his back, watching the mixed expression of exquistive pleasure and pain play over his face. Fangs had bottom lip in grasp, and Trowa didn't seem to realize what a picture he made, ears spread far apart and tail twitching.
"Master,"- His deep, lust-filled voice surprised him- "Can I play with the wax some more?" He looked at his master, who petted Duo's sweaty mass of hair as he sucked hard and willingly on Treize's cock. Treize nodded with a curious smile on his face.
Again, Quatre took the ladle and poured it where he and Trowa were joined, and he was unprepared for the sharp feeling of intense heat on his most sensitive parts, shaking visible with ever large spill of the wax. The rest of the ladle went over his body, and he shivered in pleasure. He took another spoonful and poured it all over Trowa's body, which twisted and shook.
"Quatre, please. Fuck me," Trowa rasped, coming up and grabbing Quatre by his biceps, which there had to be, and pulled him down, in turn entering deep within him. Hitting something there, Quatre felt, made him scream. It was as if Trowa's pleasure sharpened right then. Disoriented, Trowa let go, and Quatre himself searched for that spot of pleasure once more.
A soundless scream left Trowa's waxed throat, and the cushion underneath him was stretched to its limits, tearing apart.
Prostate. That's what it was. He was hitting his prostate. The blond shot forward with all his strength, and a choked sob came from Trowa. Over and over he entered and struck his prostate. The quick sliding, Trowa's uncontrolled sounds of pleasure, and the overall situation nearly sent Quatre over the edge. However, being top, he didn't want to let go first. For the last time his hand went to the ladle, and he poured self-inflicting wax between them, and thrust after thrust shoved the hot liquid deep inside Trowa's body.
Trowa's green eyes rolled, and an incoherent scream of what could've been his name sputtered from his mouth. He came heartily, shooting cum directly in the wax on both his and Quatre's chest. Unable to hold back at the concentrated squeezing Trowa produced, the blond empath, feeling strongly Trowa's release, let go in pleasurable anguish, his climax almost close to death itself. And just before he passed clean out, he heard Alex say, "Let me have him!"
Kix: I totally stole the wax idea- but I've always wanted wax, so is it really stealing? Thanks for reviewing!
Warning: Sex, people, sex! But it's sort of romantic in a way. And intense. Wax. There's wax, my dears. Don't like? Don't read. Next chapter! Duo and Heero- muhahaha!
Summary: Quatre is forced to perform at the impromptu party. Little does he know the inbred talent he already has.
Limelight
Finally, Quatre had time to reflect. While Sally and the others tended to the three beaten slaves, and they were carefully attended to almost full healing except for scars, Quatre sat next to Trowa, whose mask of a face was contorted minimally with relief. They were still holding hands, as if they were too shy to let go but also too shy to bring up their joining.
"He's going to make us have sex in front of everyone," Trowa said slowly, his soft baritone sending chills down Quatre's spine.
"I don't mind."
Trowa looked at him with his one visible green eye. "Master meant 'we' as in the whole castle."
Anxiety set in at this statement. Quatre didn't want anymore people to see him naked than those who had already seen him. Besides, large crowds, of strangers, really made him nervous and prone to accidents that earned him no small amount of beatings from his father.
"Don't worry... Quatre."
Oh, how Quatre loved the sound of his name from those full lips, and he also adored the sharp eye gazing at him with such genuine concern. The blonde hadn't felt this happy since Iria came out of the blue; it was nostalgic and refreshing.
"Can I be on top?" Quatre asked suddenly.
If Trowa was surprised at this question he showed no concern, except for a slight blush, and then he nodded. "I like being bottom," he said quietly, almost as if he didn't want Quatre to hear him.
"I'm not familiar with either position," Quatre answered, trying to keep the conversation, "But being on top seems to give that person more control, and I'll be too nervous not to have that."
Trowa squeezed his hand, as if wanting to say something, but he didn't.
"Is that what you like, Trowa?" He was whispering, and Trowa's blush deepened. "Do you enjoy losing control?"
"Yes," he gasped, his eyes far off in some imagining, and an erection forming between his legs.
Quatre was similarly aroused, and he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, so he put the conversation on pause for now.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Surpris ingly to Quatre, even if he did see how well their treatment was going, Milliardo, Noin and Wufei were able to walk and get dressed for the evening. Still, they had the looks of the wounded on their faces, no doubt recounting the terrible time of their punishment. Noin gratefully accepted help getting into her clothing, while Wufei and Milliardo stubbornly stumbled to dress themselves.
Everyone was in the master's bedroom, having taken their clothing racks from his large walk-in closet, which seemed like a whole other room in itself, and were dressing in a similar style. They had argued for a bit what that style would be, but everyone seemed to agree when Heero told them that today the master would be in the mood for tight leather.
"Isn't he always in the mood for tight leather?" Quatre asked himself, and Duo, who was picking out his clothes because of his total lack of fashion sense, laughed with his whole body.
"Oh, man. Seriously though, he doesn't like to dress up as much as he likes to dress us up," Duo said. "Here put this on, a nice break from those ass squeezers."
Even if they were a nice pair of leather pants, they still squeezed his ass, but it was a comfortable squeezing. Duo gave him no shirt, letting the whole world see his formless chest and abdomen, but he did give him gloves that molded itself all the way to his biceps, if you could call the soft flesh there muscle. And like everyone else, he had a thin stripe of a collar placed around his neck, a rose pendant hanging from the middle.
Everyone was a bit more excited, especially the girls, as they rubbed oil on one another- the boys- or put make-up on cleaned faces. Then they went and set up the lobby almost like their master's room, except there were chairs next to the pillows and boxes of toys were strewn everywhere. Then they wheeled from the Playroom long ottomans, with enormous, thick cushions strewn about on top. Quatre had an inkling what they were for. He wasn't sure what the large bowls of wax were for as they were set upon small, low-heat fires, and he feared the clean gleaming utensils used to pierce whatever part needed to be pierced.
Then they began making finger-food and setting about glasses and tables. With how quickly they prepared everything, Quatre knew this was a fairly common event to have. There was a mark of urgency in their movements, as if doing it quickly and more effieciently would please the master who wasn't there to see them.
Then Catherine called the other masters individually to the party, and they all accepted, much to Quatre's chagrin, for he still didn't want to 'perform', as the others called it, in front of the strangers.
"I'm nervous, Duo. I always seem to mess up these things!" Quatre cried as some of the masters arrived with an entourage of finely dressed slaves, who seemed obedient and able, automatically going for the wine and foodstuffs to get to their masters. The more people who came, the more distraught he became.
"Dude! Don't worry. The more you worry, the better your chances to fuck up," Duo said wisely. Then he looked over his shoulder at someone. "Yo, cat-boy, forgot your name, but hold his hand. He seems calmer when you do."
Trowa's large, bony hand claimed his small, clammy one, and Duo nodded approvingly. Then he ran off, muttering about how Milliardo and Wufei had made themselves conveniently scarce.
"When master comes, we'll stick to him, alright?"
"What?" Quatre was so anxious, he could hardly pay attention. "How will that help?"
Trowa squeezed his hand. "He'll help you calm down."
Speaking of which, from the door came Treize's tall self, fully dressed in his usual leather and a cape embroidered with roses. He looked calm and mesmerizing, with an air full of charisma. The master's, almost involuntarily, stood quickly to greet him, going over with thin demeanours. They did the regular shaking of hands in a small group, and to this group Trowa took him.
When they finally stood by master, Quatre's heart well in his throat, Trowa brushed him lightly with his body. Treize looked down and smiled, putting Trowa in one arm and the nervous Quatre in the other, he introduced them both.
"All of you know my wonderful cat-creature Trowa, but I don't believe I've shown any of you my delightful new acquisition, Quatre Winner, whose brains may be the most convoluted on this side of the continent. Say hello, Quatre."
"Hello, sirs," Quatre murmured politely, looking into the face of one master to the next. Two of them were old men, Quinze and Lord Barton, two of them were young, Alex and Mueller, one of them was enormous, Theodore, and another looked like a rat with a balding head and a thin mustache, Lord Septum. They were so much more inferior to his master, whose head was held high with superiority, plus Treize smoothed his back with a rubbing gloved hand, that Quatre was calmed. Trowa gave him a small smile, a sweet one, and he smiled back.
Theodore, chomping away at small sandwiches, said greedily, "You gonna' show 'em off, Treize? 'Tis the least you can do since you barely paid rent this month."
A smooth fake smile spread over Treize's face. "Of course," he said, ushering them all to an ottoman. Trowa gracefully climbed on while Quatre shakily sat down, nervous all over again.
"Let's spice things up a bit," Treize offered, bringing them a stand of the wax mixture, a wooden ladle in the center. "So that these bastards will leave me alone about the damn money."
"Wait, Master! What am I supposed to do?" Quatre asked desperately. Trowa was lying down, removing all his clothing with the subtle grace of a professional stripper, using only the tips of his fingers.
"Since Trowa is on his back, I presume you're going to be on top?" To Quatre's frantic nod he said, "Kiss and caress him as you will, Quatre, then I will tell you to start pouring wax on his body. Slowly. From his neck to his toes."
"Okay." That sounded easy enough.
Treize smiled mischievously. "The only problem you may have is holding back. By the time I tell you that you're finished, arousal will have built inside you, ready to explode. Do a good job and I'll let you." At these words, Quatre's cock sprang to life, and Trowa's oiled limbs around his didn't make it any better. "Good luck," Treize said last, and sat down in the middle chair between the rest of the other masters of the castle.
Quatre looked doen at Trowa, whose abs were more definite in texture, sinewy and curved at the same time. He had his arms raised above his head and a seductive look shining brightly in his now smoldering green eyes. To his surprise, Quatre found he couldn't resist kissing and touching Trowa's body, and his now familiar hands massaged his muscles with the professional care of one who had done the act a thousand times.
Their tongues battled one another, though they had already known who would be the winner, the dominant one of the two. Trowa pushed up against him with the same amount of agressiveness as when Treize pressed down into him the day before, in his home. Now, on the red ottoman that contrasted sharply with Trowa's creamy white skin, he shoved deep into the hollow of his groin, grinding and thrusting wildly.
Trowa gasped in pleasure, and Quatre found he wanted to hear it again. He clutched Trowa's waist with a devilish grin pressed their swollen cocks flush against each other, squeezing them. The cat-demon's mouth dropped impulsively, crying out, and Quatre groaned at the sound.
"Quatre, I hate to spoil your fun," Treize interuppted, quite impressed with his two newest slave's interaction. "Use the wax now. Might I remind you that wax dries quickly."
With that advice, Quatre, after untangling his sweaty, oily limbs from a mewling Trowa, took the ladle, thought for a minute, and then poured it slowly over his standing erection.
Holding his elbows over his head, Trowa trembled in either pleasure or pain, and a low hiss escaped his lips.
"Trowa? Does it feel good? Or does it hurt?" Quatre had little drops fall directly on his nipples, which hardened as the wax dried. Tears left the corners of Trowa's eyes.
"B-Both. More." He licked his lips and repeated, "More." Suddenly, he transformed himself in Full Dress, catlike ears flickering excitedly. His eyes were glowing even more abnormally than before and the strong muscles of his body twitched as he purred.
He let the red wax pool in his navel, and the wax seem to flow naturally around the base of his cock, covering the curly brown hairs. Everywhere his skin was becoming red, his jutting organ purple. Then on his legs was where the melted liquid found itself. Large, hot amounts ran down his thighs, the long bones of his shin, and between his toes.
Quatre was so aroused, just as Treize had said, that he became clumsy with the ladle, acidentally dropping wax on Trowa's face and hair as he attempted to spoon some on his neck.
"On your stomach, Trowa," came Treize's husky voice, and this made Quatre again aware of the other people in the room. The slaves were almost as entranced as their masters, Alex and Mueller among them having their beautiful female slaves nurse their engorged organs.
Trowa's claws clutched the cushion beneath him as Quatre resumed pouring wax, this time on his arching back.
"Ah! W-Wait!" was his tortured cry as Quatre pulled his tail and smoothed the heated ladle around his ass, dropping heavily large amounts of wax between his buttocks. The lithe body twitched irregularly and Trowa let out a scream in anguish, and from the sound of it Quatre just knew, he could feel it all over, that Trowa was close to orgasm.
"Stop, Quatre," ordered Treize. "Put the ladle down. Fuck him. Now. He should have prepared himself." He snapped his fingers and automatically Duo went between his legs, unzipped his leather pants, and began to blow him.
Quatre knew what he meant. While oiling themselves, without real feeling really, they had stretched themselves with fingers and toys, trying to do it all businesslike with the least pleasure imaginable. Trowa helped him while showing him how to do it by himself.
Without preamble, Quatre entered him, pushing aside much dried wax, into the wonderfully tight, wet heat that was the Feline Demon Trowa Barton. Gods, it felt like heaven on his tortured length. With strength he didn't even know he had, he flipped Trowa over onto his back, watching the mixed expression of exquistive pleasure and pain play over his face. Fangs had bottom lip in grasp, and Trowa didn't seem to realize what a picture he made, ears spread far apart and tail twitching.
"Master,"- His deep, lust-filled voice surprised him- "Can I play with the wax some more?" He looked at his master, who petted Duo's sweaty mass of hair as he sucked hard and willingly on Treize's cock. Treize nodded with a curious smile on his face.
Again, Quatre took the ladle and poured it where he and Trowa were joined, and he was unprepared for the sharp feeling of intense heat on his most sensitive parts, shaking visible with ever large spill of the wax. The rest of the ladle went over his body, and he shivered in pleasure. He took another spoonful and poured it all over Trowa's body, which twisted and shook.
"Quatre, please. Fuck me," Trowa rasped, coming up and grabbing Quatre by his biceps, which there had to be, and pulled him down, in turn entering deep within him. Hitting something there, Quatre felt, made him scream. It was as if Trowa's pleasure sharpened right then. Disoriented, Trowa let go, and Quatre himself searched for that spot of pleasure once more.
A soundless scream left Trowa's waxed throat, and the cushion underneath him was stretched to its limits, tearing apart.
Prostate. That's what it was. He was hitting his prostate. The blond shot forward with all his strength, and a choked sob came from Trowa. Over and over he entered and struck his prostate. The quick sliding, Trowa's uncontrolled sounds of pleasure, and the overall situation nearly sent Quatre over the edge. However, being top, he didn't want to let go first. For the last time his hand went to the ladle, and he poured self-inflicting wax between them, and thrust after thrust shoved the hot liquid deep inside Trowa's body.
Trowa's green eyes rolled, and an incoherent scream of what could've been his name sputtered from his mouth. He came heartily, shooting cum directly in the wax on both his and Quatre's chest. Unable to hold back at the concentrated squeezing Trowa produced, the blond empath, feeling strongly Trowa's release, let go in pleasurable anguish, his climax almost close to death itself. And just before he passed clean out, he heard Alex say, "Let me have him!"