Little shop of horrors

Orin x seymour pt3

Seymour swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing there was no other way this could go if he wanted what he came here for. "I want to--" He paused, " make love ." He said quietly, ashamed.

The dentist laughed uproariously in his face, letting go of Seymour's hand to wipe a tear from his face in the process. He clutched his aching stomach, unable to stop his laughing fit. " Make love ?" Seymour sat dejected and redder than ever. "Ya mean FUCK?" Orin taunted him. "Ya mean you came over here lookin' for some, right? Ya wanted me to bend you over like some wh-"

"SHH!" Seymour interrupted, nervous someone might hear, even though they were the only ones in the building. "Yes. That." He flashed his puppy dog eyes, pleading with Orin from behind his glasses. "Please?"

Now that was what he wanted to hear. A huge predatory grin crept onto his face, baring his sharper than normal canines. "Your ass is mine then, freak." He threw a leg over the chair and straddled Seymour. He wound his hands tightly in Seymour's hair, and leaned in to take a long, slow, lick of the blood on the man's cheek.

Seymour sighed in content, eyes fluttering closed. He could feel Orin's stubble rub against his face and the hot, wet stripe his tongue left felt like it singed his skin.

"Y-you know, for someone who calls me freak you're kind of a strange guy, Doctor." Seymour said incredulously.

Orin whispered in his ear, "Ya wantin' me ta stop?" But he already knew the answer to that. Seymour shook his head no, encouraging him to keep going. Orin laughed. "'Course ya don't, slut." He ground his hips down against Seymour. "And call me Orin."

Seymour grabbed at Orin's shirt, pulling the man closer, savoring the friction. "Orin?" He said, breath getting heavier. "You didn't even let Audrey call you that."

"Nope." He grunted in Seymour's ear, grinding against him again.

"If I called you Orin would you s-stop calling me freak?" He panted, shaky hands starting to unbutton Orin's shirt.

"Fuck, you talk too much." He slammed into Seymour, pulling him into a fiery kiss. It was rough, a kiss with too much tongue and teeth to be wholesome and respectable. Seymour was tired of being respectable. Orin never quite was anything close to wholesome.

Orin groped Seymour through the fabric of his pants and bit at the man's neck. Seymour bucked his hips into the touch, his need growing stronger. He pulled roughly on Orin's shirt, popping off the last few buttons he hadn't yet undone.

Orin growled and ripped off Seymour's sweater vest. "I bet this gets ya all the chicks." He said mockingly, waving it around before throwing it aside.

Seymour's hands roamed Orin's skin. "It got you, didn't it?" He said meekly.

That stunned Orin. The freak could stand up for himself after all. "You gotta smart mouth." He pressed a finger to Seymour's chest accusatorily. "I don't like that." He hopped off the dentist chair and took Seymour with him. He pushed Seymour down to his knees in front of him. Seymour sat back and watched in anticipation as the dentist fumbled with his zipper. He tugged down his dark jeans slightly to pull his dick out over the waistband. "If you wanna use that mouth so goddamn much you can make yourself useful."

Seymour pocketed his glasses and stared intently at the hard dick centimeters from his face. He hadn't had much practice doing this sort of thing, and he wanted nothing more than to do it right. He gave it a small experimental lick on the tip. Orin's dick jerked. Seymour smiled inwardly, proud of his effect, and leaned in to close his mouth around the length.

Orin groaned and took Seymour's hair in hand. "Move, freak." Seymour grabbed the base of his dick and swirled his tongue around what was in his mouth. His mouth was warm, and slick, and more daring than he thought the twerp would be. "See?" Orin breathed as Seymour hollowed his cheeks, "Your whore mouth is so much better this way. None of that stutterin' shit."

Seymour hummed in delight at the near praise. The vibrations around Orin's dick made his legs weak, and he gripped harder onto Seymour to keep him grounded. He grabbed Seymour's chin and angled his face up so Seymour would keep eye contact as he worked. "I've been wantin' ta fuck your face ever since I saw ya goin' at that milkshake." He thrusted hard in Seymour's mouth. The man choked a little, not expecting the change of pace. He breathed evenly out of his nose to adapt to Orin's roughness. "Thinkin' 'bout what I'd give to be sucked down like that." He thrusted again, harder this time.

Seymour moaned around his length, much louder than he intended to. He couldn't stop the drool that overflowed out of his mouth and dripped onto Orin's dick. He could hardly breathe, and he savored every moment of it. "Bet I'm just as sweet, huh freak?" Orin laughed. Seymour strained against his corduroy pants, he went to palm his bulge to relieve the pressure.

Orin abruptly pulled out and grabbed Seymour's arm before he could be of any use to himself. "Did I SAY you could touch yourself?" He barked.

"No..."

" Exactly ."

"Stand up." Orin ordered. Seymour scrambled to his feet. Orin roughly backed him up against the cold wall. He reached into Seymour's corduroy pants to grasp the man. Seymour's head lolled back into the wall as he let out a pleased gasp. He went to pull Orin into another searing kiss, arms circling around Orin's neck. Orin shoved the man back with his unoccupied hand, his fingers splayed out on Seymour's heaving chest. He kept his hand there, pinning the man to the wall.

"Wh-" Seymour started, perplexed. His rejected arms hung loose by his sides, not knowing what to do. Orin's hand in his pants gripped him harder, hand infuriatingly unmoving.

"No touchin' me, got that?" Orin said. "Wouldn't wanna reward ya for bad behavior." He punctuated the word "bad" by freeing Seymour's dick, finally.

Seymour quickly fished his glasses out of his pocket and put them back on, eyes searching Orin's. "Don't wanna miss any of this?" Orin teased.

"W-wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. I'd jerk ya off better than you could, anyhow." Orin grinned. "Doctors gotta be good with their hands." He said, with a particularly good flick of the wrist. He pooled the spit in his mouth and spit obscenely onto Seymour's dick, never breaking eye contact with the man. Seymour shivered at the sudden wetness. Orin spread the spit over the tip down to the base, and set a quick stroking pace.

Seymour panted and let out little moans, starting to feel all fuzzy around the edges.

" O-Orin~"

This was heaven, this was sublime, this was so much better than he thought it'd be. He melted further into the wall, and canted his hips into Orin's capable hand. With nowhere to go, his shaky hands clawed at the drywall. Orin hummed. "Ya like fuckin' my hand, slut?"

With his eyes screwed shut, Seymour nodded yes.

Orin slowed his hand to an excruciating and teasing stroke. "Hm? Couldn't hear ya."

"YES, yes I like it." Seymour said, desperately craving better friction. "C-could you go faster?" He muttered. He opened his eyes to see Orin's quirked eyebrow, he flushed, realizing he had said something close to a command just then. Knowing that wouldn't fly with Orin he added a soft "Please?"

"Well shit, since you asked so nicely..." Orin said, humoring the man, once again setting the speed at a brutal pace.

That activated something deep and primal within Seymour, he reached out to grab the arm on his chest holding him back and brought it up to wrap around his throat, breaking Orin's orders. He couldn't help it, he craved the lack of air he'd had before and the way it made his head spin.

"Fuck, I knew you were a whore, but I didn't know ya needed me this bad." Orin growled, squeezing his throat harder. Seymour's face twisted in ecstasy. Orin took his hand back, "Move it to the desk, freak." He pulled him in for a steamy, wet kiss. "I'm gonna rail ya so hard ya won't be able to sit tomorrow."