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Jaskier/Geralt – one hole virgin – Jaskier done did it again and got himself into a piss poor situation... Good thing Geralt is there to help him out like a friendly neighbourhood nurse.

Part 1 (Patreon Link)

Part 2 (This Part)

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“You will… you will just… do I-oh okay oh that is… o-okay??” Jaskier’s voice pitches high, his head tilting back immediately because the sight of Geralt’s stupidly pretty mouth wrapped around his crown is just… it’s just too much.

It’s nice and wet in there. Hot. He can feel the straight, firm press of his teeth against his skin, not biting of course, but seemingly struggling with the concept of blowing a cock which… Jaskier can’t wrap his head around.

He’s pretty sure, pretty very sure, that he’s seen Geralt more than once being ridden by Yennefer like a horse to war, something wrapped around her hips that allowed a shining black cock to drive deep into his guts, her hands using his long hair as reins.

It’s not like Jaskier has been looking for it actively after stumbling across the scene by pure chance one fateful night, it’s just… well… well-

It was damn hot to watch a man like Geralt take cock like he’s been born to do it, alright? It’s been so hot that Jaskier has spent the past few months replaying all those delicious little memories in his head while jerking it whenever he couldn’t find a lady he could bury his sorrows inside.

The low grunts Geralt’s made whenever Yennefer pushed into him deep and reckless had seared themselves into his brain and made it impossible to not picture in when he fucked a warm, wet…

It’s impossible that Geralt has never sucked cock when he’s so undoubtedly talented in taking it. It’s unthinkable, even. But the way he groans as he just suckles on the tip like a babe on its mother’s teat… God. God, Jaskier is doomed. He reaches out with a trembling hand, carefully putting it onto Geralt’s head.

His heart is pounding a mile a minute. He is sweating buckets. His cock aches from being hard for hours now, wanting some release but unable to get it-

“Come on,” he rasps, fingers digging into Geralt’s white hair. “Take it- I need… I need it-” He pulls him close without thinking much about it. Geralt is a big boy and he can defend himself if he doesn’t want to get manhandled – and he doesn’t make a peep of protest now. He just lets himself get used, his tongue a squishy, soft cushion against the underside of Jaskier’s throbbing cock and…

He gags so easily. Jaskier can feel the convulsions of his tongue and the slight drag of teeth against his shaft but there is nothing that could hold him back from pulling harder on Geralt’s hair. He feels possessed with the need of fucking his seed right down the Witcher’s throat – and Geralt follows along.

He might be gagging but he is not pulling back. Jaskier can’t tell if that is a trait of Geralt’s since he is a stubborn son of a bitch or if it is his Witcher pride talking, or… whether it is just Geralt being a slut that can’t stand the thought of not having Jaskier’s cock between his lips now that he’s got it there.

Jaskier likes the thought of that. His overheated brain is already throwing lyrics his way. Oh fuck how long would he be able to get away with singing the song before Geralt would catch wind of it and put two and two together…?

Despite Jaskier’s desperately clutching hands, Geralt pulls back with a nasty slurp and a soft gasp.

Both sounds hit Jaskier right where they hurt the most. He is going cross-eyed. He is so close to shooting his load, he can taste his own cum at the back of his throat but his cock just refuses to cooperate. Whatever it is that this monster did to him, it is doing its job admirably.

This is the worst form of torture Jaskier has ever been subjected to.

He looks down and stares into Geralt’s face, those golden eyes fixed onto his glistening wet crown, his expression lax and dumbfounded… like he can’t believe how good it had been to suckle Jaskier’s dick just now.

No… no, this is the worst form of torture. Holy fuck. Holy shit. What is that expression even?!

Jaskier tugs on Geralt’s hair. There’s an animal whine coming from his throat that he could hold off even if he had wanted to.

Geralt briefly looks up at him but there is not much recognition in his expression. Even so, he follows Jaskier’s impatient pulls and lowers his head again, mouth opening wide and greedy to slip him back into that warm, slippery cave.

Jaskier can feel the vibrations of Geralt’s chest deep groan.

Who would have thought that the stoic Witcher could be so… could be this…-

“That’s it; that’s perfect. Just keep- just keep sucking. You are- you are sucking, aren’t you? No you’re not… could you uhm… could you please suck me? I thought we needed to- oh shit.”

Jaskier’s mindless babbling breaks off the second Geralt does start sucking, his toes curling hard enough to have cramps shooting through his calves. He digs the heels of his feet against the shoddy floorboard of the inn and grabs the Witcher’s hair with both fists, pulling him in until he gags again. The sound of his deep rumbling voice and the feeling of his desperately squeezing throat is something that Jaskier doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

When Geralt pulls away just to be able to stop gagging and pull in some air, Jaskier is pretty sure that he is about to die… but Geralt doesn’t pull his sword and he doesn’t reprimand him with one of his annoyed death stares. Instead he leans back over his lap as soon as possible, breathing hard, saliva slicking down his stubbled chin.

He moves back in like a man possessed, sucking Jaskier down until just where his gag reflex would start up again. He hollows out his cheeks, everything hot and wet and cushioned around his painful cock.

He comes without really noticing it at first. Everything feels so good and it just… happens to be in one of those heat waves that rolls through him and leaves him feeling boneless.

It doesn’t matter. His cock stays damnably hard anyway… especially when he stares at Geralt swallowing down his cum as if it were the most exquisite wine.

Geralt pulls back, his lips a beautiful dark red and swollen from dragging them along Jaskier’s shaft over and over again. He licks them slowly, a drop of cum appearing at the corner of his mouth that Jaskier stares at with his jaw hanging open, hypnotized.

“I did not think…” Geralt murmurs, obviously more to himself than at Jaskier, his sulfur eyes staring at the swollen cock he’s been trying desperately to cram down his throat without much success. “It must be the poison…”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Jaskier feels a bit calmer after being able to shoot a load finally; less like he is on the verge of collapsing and his heart exploding in his chest. It makes it easier to just stare at Geralt and wonder how he manages to consistently be only paid to divest villages of monsters instead of offering up his hairy tight ass for the taking.

“Nothing,” he replies with his usual gruff tone, leaning back in, opening up nice and wide. He is getting better sucking Jaskier down and figuring out what he likes. Like pressing the tip of his tongue against that little triangle just underneath the crown of his cock, rubbing back and forth until Jaskier starts seeing stars…

Should he offer him a hand back? It probably is good etiquette, isn’t it? But when he looks down he notices that he’s come way too late to the party.

Geralt already has his big cock out, that one wicked looking scar along his shaft that he won’t tell Jaskier about stark white against the ruddy red of his skin, hand jerking himself ruthlessly just because he’s got his mouth on a cock for once…

Well isn’t that just interesting? Well isn’t that just fun? Jaskier thinks there are some conclusions to be pulled from this but he can’t figure out which.

Geralt is shuddering bodily every now and then but for some reason he doesn’t think it’s because of his own cock. He keeps smacking his lips around Jaskier’s shaft like a baby, his eyes closed in bliss while he bobs his head more and more smoothly. Like he’s figuring it out on the go.

Even though there is absolutely no way that Yennefer didn’t have him cowering before her and sucking that beautiful black cock that she had put around her hips in a harness. There is absolutely no way in Hell that Yennefer of Vengerberg hasn’t had the Witcher trained within an inch of his life in pleasuring her any which way she would like.

Right?

…Right?

Or maybe… maybe Jaskier needs to have a little talk with her when they see each other next… just…

just to make sure…

Comments

Iggy

I LOOOOOVE THIS ❤❤❤❤😤