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The sparring bout is fierce; Toma’s different from the last time he and Gantetsusai crossed blades. Different, but still not quite a match for the would-be legendary swordsman. Toma swiftly darts between strokes, opening a path to a counterattack, when Gantetsusai surprises him with a swing of his arm that blocks his vision. Toma ducks below it, only to be met by an incoming slash that forces him to retreat, and he suddenly finds his back flush to the cave wall. Gantetsusai approaches him at sword’s length, a smug look on his face.
“Never let yourself get backed against a wall, pretty boy.”
He walks right up to Toma until he’s just a couple inches from him, holding his katana nearly parallel to his body with the tip poised weightily at his throat. There’s a tense pause; he should make to deliver a final blow, and Toma should try to break free, yet both men are still. The convict finally turns his sword to bring his hand to the executioner’s face; the gesture is somewhat slow, with no threat behind it, and Toma simply watches him with narrowed eyes. Gantetsusai brushes aside some of Toma’s bangs, the back of his knuckle rough against his soft skin.
“Ya know, you really would look good in one of those China dresses.”
Toma simply sneers up at him, then abruptly fists a hand in his kimono and tugs downward. Gantetsusai lets himself bow to the force, a curious smirk on his face.
“If you’re angling for something,” Toma says, each word carefully articulated, “just spit it out.”
Gantetsusai’s lopsided smile widens to show all of his teeth before he loops his hook through the front of Toma’s hakama and yanks, tossing his sword aside. Toma nearly falls forward, his own sword clattering to the ground so he can steady himself on Gantetsusai’s dense arms. The latter begins to clumsily work loose the knot at Toma’s abdomen, then whirls him around to undo the back. The himo are barely unwrapped all the way when he’s swatting the hakama to the ground and digging in to all but rip Toma’s obi away from his body.
“Such a barbarian,” Toma scoffs into the wall, his kimono tumbling open onto Gantetsusai’s hand while he untwists his fundoshi. “Must you really remove everything?”
“Hey, I’m workin’ with one hand here!” Gantetsusai barks, successfully doing away with Toma’s undergarment. He starts to fumble with the front of his own hakama. “And it’s way more erotic like this! If you’re so worried about puttin’ it all back on, you should just wear a dress instead!”
His hakama finally loosened, he grabs a fistful of Toma’s ass and spreads him wide, the smooth meat kneading effortlessly in his oversized grasp. Toma leans forward, resting his palms on the wall, and bites his lip; he can feel his hole pucker desperately at being exposed. Gantetsusai spits onto his thumb and smears it over him, then dips it inside and pinches Toma’s cheek between his fingers. He drips some more spit onto himself and pushes his cock against him, and Toma can’t help but gasp at how enormous it feels.
Gantetsusai grins smugly. “You like that? I’m not too sure it’ll fit inside this pretty little hole of yours — might end up breakin' you in half.”
“Would you shut up already?”
Toma frustratedly pushes backward, hissing as he sucks up Gantetsusai’s swollen tip.
“Ohh,” Gantetsusai exhales deeply, “that’s real good.”
Toma rocks back and forth, stretching himself further and further over him. He aches with every drag over the veiny shaft, but he can feel a warmth starting to bubble up from his core.
“Are you just going to stand there?” he finally snaps over his shoulder. Gantetsusai snorts and bucks forward, smirking with satisfaction when Toma lets out a yelp.
“I was appreciatin' the view, but we can pick things up since you’re so eager all the sudden.” He pulls mostly out and then thrusts back in, then again, faster and faster, until Toma’s hunched over and panting, forearms flat against the wall. Gantetsusai runs his hand along the arch of his ass and under his kimono into the dip of his back, his hand easily spanning the width.
“Damn,” he says through gritted teeth. “Wish I still had my other hand so I could properly feel up this body of yours.” He latches back onto Toma’s ass and gives it a hard smack, watching mirthfully as it bounces around his cock.
“Watch yourself,” Toma snarls.
“Pff,” Gantetsusai scoffs, “you’re in no position to act tough. And I’d say you’re plenty enjoyin' this.” He slows his rhythm and slips the curve of his hook along the underside of Toma’s fattening cock. Toma lets out a shallow whine when the cold metal runs over the sensitive fold below his tip, but then it’s gone just as soon as it’d come. Gantetsusai pulls out and grabs onto Toma’s hips, spinning him around again so he can hoist him up between himself and the wall. Toma groans and wraps his arms around his girthy neck, scrambling to find a grip with his legs as Gantetsusai plunges back into him.
“This is much better!” Gantetsusai bellows. “You better hold on tight, pretty boy!”
“So loud,” Toma growls against his shoulder. His energy for denouncing the other’s behavior is waning, however; his mind seems to be swimming in tandem with his body as it shamelessly bobs up and down in the man’s huge arms. Suddenly, Gantetsusai hikes him up and lets him fall down on the full length of his cock, ramming it directly into his prostate. Toma shrieks as pleasure slices through him. He curls himself helplessly into the thick crook of Gantetsusai’s neck, tears welling in his eyes.
“Now who’s loud?” Gantetsusai says with a depraved grin. “Let’s hear some more of that!”
He slams into the same spot as hard as he can, over and over with increasing fervor, starting to lose himself to the sound of Toma’s cries. The searing friction of Gantetsusai’s massive cock straining his asshole paired with the relentless assault on his prostate has dissolved all outside stimuli to a dim buzz. The pressure builds to a head inside him, and he presses his face further into Gantetsusai’s sweltering body until he feels himself splutter onto his kimono.
“Spent already?” Gantetsusai taunts, though his own breathing is distinctly labored. “Well, now you gotta wait for me.”
Toma whimpers raggedly against his neck, now slick with a heavy layer of sweat. His vision is glazed over with a dull kind of bliss, enough to make him vaguely dizzy. He clings onto Gantetsusai’s kimono as the criminal frenziedly drills into him, then one final thrust culminates in a potent burst of cum that fills Toma to the brim; long, syrupy strands cling to Gantetsusai’s cock as he slides himself out. He sighs contentedly, as one does after a good meal, and finally lowers Toma to the ground. Once again responsible for his own weight, Toma wobbles, his knees nearly buckling beneath him.
“Woah there!” Gantetsusai exclaims, grabbing ahold of him. “Don’t tell me I broke you after all!”
A somewhat feeble “shut up” is all that Toma can muster, halfheartedly smacking his hand away. Gantetsusai shrugs and plops himself on the ground. He leans back, heaving another satisfied sigh, and watches as Toma shakily begins gathering his clothes. His kimono hangs limply from his shoulders; he clutches it to his chest with one hand as he bends down to pluck his fundoshi off the ground, and as he does, a glob of cum oozes down the back of his leg. Gantetsusai strokes a hand through his beard, a smutty grin on his face. Toma turns to regard him with disgust.
“You’re filthy.”
“I’m filthy? You should see yourself! I might even dream about this tonight.” He gets to his feet and pulls his hakama back on. “I wouldn’t waste time gettin’ dressed if I were you,” he adds.
Toma’s fingers slow around his own hakama, eyes narrowing. “And why is that?”
“You didn’t land a hit on me. We’re gettin’ you into one of those dresses!”