Strangers By Nature | Red Dead Redemption II |

Chapter Fourteen | I'll Do Whatever You Want

Arthur was adamant Peter had to know what he was doing. Right now, he was lying on his stomach, smoking a cigarette and facing the fire. Maybe right now he wasn't intending to do anything to Arthur, just enjoying a relaxing smoke by the fire, but it was doing something to him. Arthur couldn't keep his eyes off him- or more importantly his ass.

It was just so plump and mesmerizing. To be entirely honest Arthur was thinking of what it'd be like to use his mouth on him. He's done it with two women- in the most basic missionary way, thanks to Peter he can say he's been blown, he's kissed a dick, he's been fucked, he's done a man, and he's had a tongue in him.

Before he met Peter, Arthur had no clue why so many men liked sex. Because his only experience was with Mary which felt clinical and not like it was a pleasure. Doing it with Eliza was a bit better but he was far too drunk to remember most of the night. But considering she got pregnant he's pretty sure he's got an idea what happened.

Peter's opened him up to a whole world of new sensations he didn't even know were possible. Arthur jerks off regularly, as almost everyone does. But he's never messed with his butt, didn't seem like something he'd enjoy. Felt like a strange thing to do.

But the minute he felt Peter put a finger in him he reevaluated everything he'd ever thought about sex. Then he was exposed to the feeling of being fucked, which about blew his mind it felt so good. And since that night all he can think of is what it'd be like to go down on Peter, in both ways. But despite his inexperience, he would give anything to be eating Peter out at that moment.

Arthur shifted to be a bit more hunched over to hide his boner, even though it was just the two of them at their house. He took a drag of his own cigarette, heart beating with lust as he couldn't get his eyes to look anywhere else.

A lot of Peter's outfits did well to show off his ass, but Arthur preferred his usual look, the tucked-in button-up, the tight vest that showed his waistline, and those black slacks that always hugged him so perfectly.

Arthur noticed Peter look back at him for a moment, catching him staring at his ass. Their eyes locked for a moment before Peter smirked and turned away.

"Alright," Arthur said, blowing the smoke out his nose and stomping his cigarette out on the floor, getting up to walk over to Peter. "That's it."

"The hell you talkin' about?" Peter stammered as he took a nervous hit from his cigarette. This was it, Arthur found out he'd been reading Arthur's journal. Now he was gonna get mad.
"Damn you Peter. You know. C'mere." Arthur ordered.

A little ashamed and a little terrified, Peter slowly stood up, head down. It would be best to get it over with as soon as possible. He didn't dare turn around or go to him though. He could hear the crunch of the dirt on the wooden floor as Arthur got closer to him step by step.

Peter expected to be turned around and punched, or pushed back down, but instead, he felt a pair of hands grope his ass, a hardness rubbing against it, and wet, sloppy kisses at his neck, aggressive and hungry, sure to leave marks that all would be able to see later. Peter let out a mix of a yelp and a moan, very much caught off guard. He wasn't expecting this.

"You want me to stop, better tell me now," Arthur warned, a sultry whisper into Peter's ear. He continued to suck on his neck, one hand slithering up the front of Peter's shirt to caress his body, the other slithering to his waist to deftly undo his gun belt.

"Damn... god, don't stop." Peter moaned, grinding his ass against Arthur through the fabric of their pants and undergarments.

All rational thought left him as Arthur finished undoing the belt and the buttons to Peter's pants and Drawers, now finally able to take Peter's dick into his hand. He let out a subdued moan, Arthur's scarred and weathered hands feeling like silk through the lust that consumed him. Slowly, Arthur stroked it, his other hand now gliding back to Peter's ass, beneath his slacks and undergarments.