[ It's not enough. How can Vincent explain to Johnny it's not enough? Yearns to twist in his fibers, claw at his bones, course through his marrow and fire his neurons once more, the way they used to be — one body, two souls. Deeper than love, more dangerous than addiction.
But this? A close second.
It'll have to do. ]
FUCK![ Bites his lower lip until his mouth tastes coppery. Should've waited, comes through Vik's voice with that premonition now taking its pound of flesh, but Vincent knows — no, feels — that it wouldn't have changed a damn thing.
Always so intense with Johnny. At the dregs of his self-control — so much so Vincent can't help but pull away slowly from that roll to increase the distance and drag, tightening his walls around Johnny's cock as a promise and dare. ] D-don't hold back. [ Answers like the masochistic, greedy gonk he is, resting his chin on Johnny's shoulder to brace himself, locking his legs in place to anchor them both. Wants to feel this one in the morning. Wants Johnny to breed him, fill him with his cock, drench him with his cum, sweat, spit, whatever else the rockerboy's willing to give him.
Could pour all his humors back into V and it wouldn't be enough. It'll never be enough. But it's a start. ] C-come on! Shut me up with that impressive cock of yours, Johnny.
[ Lock the fuck in, Silverhand. This is going to be a long night.
Johnny gives an unsteady chuckle as he nips Vince's earlobe, the ecstasy washing over him. He needs to ground himself before ends up fucking poor Vinny into the sofa. The last thing he wants is to fuck up Vik's good work. That guy would tear him a new one for ruining this prized pussy. Oh well. Johnny can take a punch or two.
He growls as he tugs roughly on V's ear, snapping his hips forward again to elicit a squeal. If Vinny wants it rough, he'd best be prepared. Instead of responding to his prospective husband with words, Johnny pulls free from Vince's grasp and begins hammering that pussy with the speed of a stallion. He's setting the pace here, a hard tempo that will undoubtedly result in tender thighs and bruises. ]
Don't fuckin' get mad at me if you can't walk later!
[ Can't think about their unintended audience right outside their private booth, taking pictures (and failing due to Vincent's identity scrambler), screaming encouragements such as wooo, go Silverhand! and me next! Thank God for the waist high window panes beginning to fog up the view from their hot and steamy sex.
Will deal with that later. Right now? His new cunt's going through its debut with impressive fortitude and that nip to his lobe wrings a howl out of him, tears him away from pointless thoughts. ]
Oh God... [ Feels manic. Like someone poured a gallon of synthcoke into his veins, bursting out of his own skin. If this is what Alt and Rogue went through, yeah, Vincent understands why they put up with Johnny's shitacular attitude back in '23.
The rockerboy fucks like a machine. ] M-mama didn't raise a q-quitter. [ No, she apparently raised a whore. Because whenever Johnny's hips slam against his, Vincent times it so Johnny not only thrusts as deep as possible but also grinds against his clit with each hit.
And Vincent didn't get rid of his prostate with the new downstairs. All that seismic activity up front wends its way backdoor too. His whole body thrums in pleasure, a string plucked over and over to play a song as ancient as humanity itself (ain't nothing but mammals), an unmistakable crescendo building up to an obvious conclusion. ] J-Johnny, I'm not... ! [ Already worked up from the gig, shutting his eyes tightly in hopes the lack of visual stimulus — or at least the lack of stupid, sexy Johnny — delays the inevitable.
But that makes the sensation of Johnny's cock fucking in and out of his neophyte pussy, hitting that new bundle of nerves inside him, all the more intense.
[ This is why bitches love Johnny Silverhand. Not only ladies, but also the few fortunate guys who had their asses hammered back in the day.
While Johnny constantly brags about his heyday as a sexual deviant, he feels more alive now with V than he ever did before. Yeah, sure, the sex was good back in the day, but it wasn't that good for him. Something about fucking Vince makes it feel much more intimate, despite the fact that his adoring fans are watching. To be honest, Johnny would shoot up this entire shithole bar if he could.
He just wants to be with V, okay? Johnny is tired of the spotlight; he has always despised his fans because they are brain-dead gonks who don't understand the significance of his music. They see him only as a rebel without a cause or, at most, a sex god. None of the people who like his music see Johnny for who he is other than a sexy rocker boy. It kind of pisses him off, enough to make those rapid strokes even more punishing.
The only good thing he has in his life is V.
Only V knows the man behind the infamy and fame. That's why Johnny is enjoying this more than he should. His guard is lowered for once as he pounds away into this delicious little pussy. However, he's not going to let his dick do all the work here. That's why when Vinny feels something cold gently nudging against his clit, that would be Johnny's chromed-out hand. Despite whatever misgivings he might have about his prosthetic arm, Johnny doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it now. He gently squeezes Vinny's clit with utmost care.
It's almost amazing how this destructive piece of chrome can be so gentle whenever Johnny wills it. ]
Heh. [ He lets out a chuckle as he feels Vinny tighten around him. ] Don't tell me you're about to cum already, babe?
Because it isn't just any fingers pressing on his clit with such finesse. It's Johnny's eponymous silverhand, the one he's so afraid of, the Arasaka made piece of chrome that sent him down that dark, nuclear path back in 2023.
Strumming his clit like it is the world's most delicate guitar, one wrong move and...
That really does it for Vincent — the knowledge that this weapon, an extension of Johnny's pain, can also be for pleasure. Pleasure for his pleasure, its cold, hard surface a soothing kiss of silk atop a fevered frenzy. ] OH GOD, I'M C—
[ Full-bodied bowing, pussy tightening and pulsing around Johnny's hard cock through each wave. Gushing, way too wet for it to be just the natural lubrication that comes (heh) standard with cunts, but unsure of what's happening as someone having his first clitoral and vaginal orgasm, ever.
(The wet spot — well, more a spray — ends up some feet ahead of them.) ] J-Johnny, d-did I... ? [Can women do that too?! What the FUCK?! Multiple orgasms AND this?!
Hurts to talk. Hurts to think. Still coming down from the high, panting as if he's ran a marathon from Rancho Coronado to Watson. ]
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no subject
Date: 2026-01-26 10:21 pm (UTC)But this? A close second.
It'll have to do. ]
FUCK! [ Bites his lower lip until his mouth tastes coppery. Should've waited, comes through Vik's voice with that premonition now taking its pound of flesh, but Vincent knows — no, feels — that it wouldn't have changed a damn thing.
Always so intense with Johnny. At the dregs of his self-control — so much so Vincent can't help but pull away slowly from that roll to increase the distance and drag, tightening his walls around Johnny's cock as a promise and dare. ] D-don't hold back. [ Answers like the masochistic, greedy gonk he is, resting his chin on Johnny's shoulder to brace himself, locking his legs in place to anchor them both. Wants to feel this one in the morning. Wants Johnny to breed him, fill him with his cock, drench him with his cum, sweat, spit, whatever else the rockerboy's willing to give him.
Could pour all his humors back into V and it wouldn't be enough. It'll never be enough. But it's a start. ] C-come on! Shut me up with that impressive cock of yours, Johnny.
no subject
Date: 2026-01-27 12:35 am (UTC)Johnny gives an unsteady chuckle as he nips Vince's earlobe, the ecstasy washing over him. He needs to ground himself before ends up fucking poor Vinny into the sofa. The last thing he wants is to fuck up Vik's good work. That guy would tear him a new one for ruining this prized pussy. Oh well. Johnny can take a punch or two.
He growls as he tugs roughly on V's ear, snapping his hips forward again to elicit a squeal. If Vinny wants it rough, he'd best be prepared. Instead of responding to his prospective husband with words, Johnny pulls free from Vince's grasp and begins hammering that pussy with the speed of a stallion. He's setting the pace here, a hard tempo that will undoubtedly result in tender thighs and bruises. ]
Don't fuckin' get mad at me if you can't walk later!
no subject
Date: 2026-01-27 01:31 am (UTC)Will deal with that later. Right now? His new cunt's going through its debut with impressive fortitude and that nip to his lobe wrings a howl out of him, tears him away from pointless thoughts. ]
Oh God... [ Feels manic. Like someone poured a gallon of synthcoke into his veins, bursting out of his own skin. If this is what Alt and Rogue went through, yeah, Vincent understands why they put up with Johnny's shitacular attitude back in '23.
The rockerboy fucks like a machine. ] M-mama didn't raise a q-quitter. [ No, she apparently raised a whore. Because whenever Johnny's hips slam against his, Vincent times it so Johnny not only thrusts as deep as possible but also grinds against his clit with each hit.
And Vincent didn't get rid of his prostate with the new downstairs. All that seismic activity up front wends its way backdoor too. His whole body thrums in pleasure, a string plucked over and over to play a song as ancient as humanity itself (ain't nothing but mammals), an unmistakable crescendo building up to an obvious conclusion. ] J-Johnny, I'm not... ! [ Already worked up from the gig, shutting his eyes tightly in hopes the lack of visual stimulus — or at least the lack of stupid, sexy Johnny — delays the inevitable.
But that makes the sensation of Johnny's cock fucking in and out of his neophyte pussy, hitting that new bundle of nerves inside him, all the more intense.
Gonk. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-27 04:20 pm (UTC)While Johnny constantly brags about his heyday as a sexual deviant, he feels more alive now with V than he ever did before. Yeah, sure, the sex was good back in the day, but it wasn't that good for him. Something about fucking Vince makes it feel much more intimate, despite the fact that his adoring fans are watching. To be honest, Johnny would shoot up this entire shithole bar if he could.
He just wants to be with V, okay? Johnny is tired of the spotlight; he has always despised his fans because they are brain-dead gonks who don't understand the significance of his music. They see him only as a rebel without a cause or, at most, a sex god. None of the people who like his music see Johnny for who he is other than a sexy rocker boy. It kind of pisses him off, enough to make those rapid strokes even more punishing.
The only good thing he has in his life is V.
Only V knows the man behind the infamy and fame. That's why Johnny is enjoying this more than he should. His guard is lowered for once as he pounds away into this delicious little pussy. However, he's not going to let his dick do all the work here. That's why when Vinny feels something cold gently nudging against his clit, that would be Johnny's chromed-out hand. Despite whatever misgivings he might have about his prosthetic arm, Johnny doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it now. He gently squeezes Vinny's clit with utmost care.
It's almost amazing how this destructive piece of chrome can be so gentle whenever Johnny wills it. ]
Heh. [ He lets out a chuckle as he feels Vinny tighten around him. ] Don't tell me you're about to cum already, babe?
[ Teasing, of course. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-01-28 02:28 am (UTC)Because it isn't just any fingers pressing on his clit with such finesse. It's Johnny's eponymous silverhand, the one he's so afraid of, the Arasaka made piece of chrome that sent him down that dark, nuclear path back in 2023.
Strumming his clit like it is the world's most delicate guitar, one wrong move and...
That really does it for Vincent — the knowledge that this weapon, an extension of Johnny's pain, can also be for pleasure. Pleasure for his pleasure, its cold, hard surface a soothing kiss of silk atop a fevered frenzy. ] OH GOD, I'M C—
[ Full-bodied bowing, pussy tightening and pulsing around Johnny's hard cock through each wave. Gushing, way too wet for it to be just the natural lubrication that comes (heh) standard with cunts, but unsure of what's happening as someone having his first clitoral and vaginal orgasm, ever.
(The wet spot — well, more a spray — ends up some feet ahead of them.) ] J-Johnny, d-did I... ? [ Can women do that too?! What the FUCK?! Multiple orgasms AND this?!
Hurts to talk. Hurts to think. Still coming down from the high, panting as if he's ran a marathon from Rancho Coronado to Watson. ]