Sendhel and César, debauched

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César was sticking close to Dom and Laurin for now, and was looking around – a small crowd, but an elite one from what he could tell. He smiled at some joke he hadn’t caught, which for some reason just made Laurin laugh harder. He was just going to ask what he’d missed, when one of the guests slid up to the trio. The half-elf was a familiar sight from other parties, but they’d never spoken that he could recall. Tonight, he was dressed in a loose turquoise robe, belted at the waist, that managed to seem both incredibly classy and incredibly casual. He stepped up between César and Laurin, interposing himself into their little circle, and smiled.

“Good evening… Friends of yours, Dom?”

The other gladiator nodded, and followed with introductions when prompted further by raised eyebrows.

“I’m Sendhel,” the half-elf replied, smiling. “A pleasure – I’m sure I’ve seen you both around at these sorts of things… And of course at the arena. I don’t go as often as I should. I get spoiled by the private demonstrations, I suppose.”

“You’re missing all our best work, then,” he piped up. Really, the parties were fun, but the fights weren’t really much to speak about. People just liked to see a little bit of blood close up.

“Oh, I’m sure I am. Tell me…. I know Dom favours the spiked chain for his engagements. What about you two?”

“I’m the deadliest in the right with paired shortswords,” Laurin answered confidently.

“Better just to be the deadliest in the ring.” Dom’s response earned him a familiar glare, but Sendhel just smiled again.

“And you?”

“Oh, I use a battleaxe – the crowds love that.”

“I see, I see. A shame, really. My lovely companion…,” he paused, flashing a smile to the other half-elf, who was standing a little further off with a couple of other girls and apparently watching their conversation. She waved. “…was hoping that one of you might be a master of the longsword.”

“Well, no one tends to focus on the longsword, because it is kind of boring.”

He could tell from the expression on Dom’s face that he had said something wrong… But it couldn’t be too bad, as Laurin looked like she was about to crack up again.

“I mean, if that’s what the lady wants to see, that’s what we’re here for!” He smiled enthusiastically – the best parts of the parties generally came after the demos, and he’d hate to miss out, or have things cut short because someone was disappointed. “We’ve all got the training, it is just not the right kind of weapon for a match, is all.”

“César, you’re adorable.”

“What?”

“A sword…” he said the word very carefully, his smile turning playful, “may not be the sort of thing you pull out in the arena. But at a gathering like this, it is just what everyone wants to see. Now, I’m not convinced your training is up to the task.” He glanced briefly at Laurin, who was shaking her head and, apparently, biting her lip. “So maybe what you need is a little lesson, hmm?”

With a step, Sendhel was standing right in front of him. Dom and Laurin were still watching – and, as the half-elf knelt in front of him, so was half the room.

Oh. Swords. He felt himself go bright red. “I –uh-er…”

“Oh, don’t worry darling. I won’t expect you to remember everything. Let’s start with a simple lesson, one you’ve probably heard before.” Sendhel’s hands were on his thighs, thumbs stroking gently, outlining his bulge. He felt himself responding to that light touch – not as quickly, maybe, as if it were a woman on her knees on front of him, but enough that he was surprised. “Always keep your eyes on your opponent.”

He did have very striking eyes, and César looked down in to them, not entirely sure what was expected of him at this point. With a girl, he’d just lean back and enjoy, maybe guide her pace a bit or something if he needed it – but he wasn’t sure about the etiquette if he was getting blown by a guy. Sendhel continued to stroke him through his leather breeches, coaxing him erect.

“That’s nice… yes, just relax, boy. Maybe I should have asked about a greatsword, hmmm?”

He laughed, nervous. “Yeah…” He couldn’t think of anything to follow up with, but Sendhel, who still fixed him with those bright blue-green eyes and playful smile, reached up and guided one of his hands to stroke along the row of evenly spaced rings that adorned his ear. Taking the hint, César toyed with them a little bit. Sendhel gave a blissful little sigh, his look going a little unfocused for a moment before he began to undo the lacings restraining his goal.

He did it slowly, and teasingly, his fingers resting just a little longer than necessary in one spot, and then not nearly long enough in another, all the while never breaking eye contact. César let his eyes flicker closed as the other man leaned in to lick along his waistband, wondering whether it would be better to imagine it was a woman, but a quick pinch to the inner thigh informed him that this would not be allowed. Sendhel shook his head with a quick chuckle before licking him again, this time more roughly – hungrily. The hot roughness of his tongue contrasted with the smoothness of the hard metal ball nestled in its center: another piercing. The way the half elf was kneeling allowed his robe to fall open a little, and from César’s viewpoint he could see a number of others, some of which had functions he couldn’t even guess at…. Even if he wasn’t being terribly distracted. Twirling one of the earrings between his fingers, César had the fleeting impression that maybe he was in a little over his head before he found himself standing exposed before the room, breeches crumpled around his ankles, and leaving him nothing but the leather harness he’d worn en lieu of a real shirt. He grinned a little at some faint applause from some of the audience. Smile for the crowds – everyone liked that, and he knew he was quite well equipped.

“Do you like my sword?” He tried to sound confident, but wasn’t quite sure he succeeded. Still, the other man nodded, taking the weapon in question in hand, and giving it a light squeeze. He could feel eyes on them, but couldn’t, and didn’t quite want to look away as Sendhel lowered his head and open his mouth.

“Very much,” he answered, lips grazing across the head of César’s cock as he spoke. To prove the point, he parted his lips further, sliding them down around César’s shaft.

César had had a lot of blowjobs. Occasionally he’d run across some cock-hungry noble slut who’d had her tongue pierced and had clearly had a lot of practice. But there was something about the way Sendhel worked his tongue around César’s thick shaft, swallowing him to the root with a smile, lips sealed tight over his prize, tongue run slowly over his shaft or trailed carefully around his head, the hard metal ball rolling just under the edge, or circled around, or… Or all that, and the way the other man looked at him, like he was enjoying it so very much, like César and his cock were the whole fucking world and damn everyone who was watching.

He realized he’d wrapped his fingers in the other man’s hair, and some fine wisps of silver-blonde hair had escape its bindings, hanging down along the line of his jaw. Somehow the whole thing was way hotter than he ever would have imagined, and the half-elf didn’t seem to be in any rush to bring him off. A couple of times he felt like he might be getting close, but before he could give any sort of warning – he figured that was a courtesy that carried over – he’d bring him back from the edge. Just enough to be maddening. He reached up with his other hand, pinning Sendhel’s other ear to his head, needing more.

With a soft moan and a flickering of eyelashes, the other man responded, pulling César close, swallowing him fully, encircling his thighs in soft silk and reaching all the way around to cup, and then spread the cheeks of his ass. Gentle fingers teased the rim of his asshole, and tickled at the sensitive skin behind his balls. He felt overwhelmed by the sensation, and craned his neck to keep his eyes locked into that impossible green-blue. He tried to give a heads up when he couldn’t hold back, but he choked on the words. Sendhel managed to pull back just as he came, and caught the spray across the face, jizz splashing across his cheek and down onto his chin.

“I’m sorry…” he stammered, still not quite in control of his voice.

“Don’t be.” Sendhel smiled again, licking his lips as he took the arm César offered and stood. The silk did nothing to hide his hard-on, or disguise the feel of it as the elf wrapped his arms around César’s neck, pressing up against him and pulling him in to a long kiss.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he pulled away, “Never be afraid to fight dirty.”

With that, he slipped off back towards his companion, leaving César stunned. He could feel a smear of jizz cooling on his own cheek now, and couldn’t take his eyes off the other man until Laurin slapped him playfully on the ass.

“Hey there big boy. You gonna stand there with your pants around your ankles all night?”

He shook his head to clear it, wiped his face, and reached down to retrieve his clothes. Across the room, the half-elf woman was licking the come off her partner’s face. He could swear they both winked at him – he was in for an interesting night.