Categories > Games > Halo
Untitled Sarge/Grif
Sarge is always watching Grif, until it gets into his head. (One-sided slash, masturbation. From Red vs. Blue)
?Blocked
You can't help but notice the way his eyes move over your form in the morning, sliding from your sleep-tousled hair down to the way your pajama pants cling to your hips as you brew desperately needed coffee. His eyes follow you all the time. You can feel them on you, even through the intimidating shine of his visor.
Sometimes you wonder why he's watching you. You've always been of the opinion that Sarge is just waiting to see you mess up, but something about the burn of his eyes into your back tells you maybe that's not entirely correct.
Lying in your bed at night, all alone in your room and your mind, your thoughts drift back over the events of the day and you wonder about it. You find yourself thinking about the intensity of his gaze and it doesn't catch you by surprise when you notice that your cock is straining upwards, pressing against your belly as it seeks to gain your attention.
Alone in your mind, it's hard to feign disgust at the action. Your hand slips down into your boxers, cock twitching appreciatively against your hand. All you can think about as you touch yourself is the feeling of Sarge's eyes on your body, checking out your ass, and you can't help the path that your mind strays down next.
Now you're imagining his eyes on your body, watching the rough, hungry slide of your hand over your cock as he tells you how to do it. Mindlessly, you obey the Sarge in your head because secretly, you can't get enough of those eyes.
The older man orders you to slow down your strokes, timing it for just when you're getting close, you whimper, but obey anyway. The look of approval on his face is a strange sight to you and it throws you a bit; that look is always reserved for Simmons, but now he's admiring your body while you stroke off for his pleasure and it dawns on you that he likes the show, like having you under his control.
The thought of being under his control brings you closer than you'd like and you whimper as Sarge leans forward, sweeping his thumb through the precum gathered on the tip. Lifting it to your lips, he orders you to taste. Moaning softly, shivering under his burning gaze, your tongue darts forward, licking the shimmering liquid from his finger-tip. Above you, he moans as well, one hand sliding down to rub at the bulge in his fatigues.
Your eyes don't miss the action at all. Seeing him rubbing himself, his eyes on your hand, pushes you closer to the edge. "Not yet," he whispers gruffly. Your superior's voice is harsh and heavy with need as he frees the hard flesh from its confines, stroking along with you.
The sight of his cock is almost too much for you, and you squeeze your dick, strokes coming faster and harder now. Sarge tangles a hand in your hair, presses his cock to your lips...
...and you come hard, whimpering quietly into your pillow as you spill your seed over your belly and hand, desperate not to make any noise and get caught. As you lay there, panting and shaking, you hear quiet footsteps retreating down the hallway and have to wonder if it was really just a fantasy.
Sometimes you wonder why he's watching you. You've always been of the opinion that Sarge is just waiting to see you mess up, but something about the burn of his eyes into your back tells you maybe that's not entirely correct.
Lying in your bed at night, all alone in your room and your mind, your thoughts drift back over the events of the day and you wonder about it. You find yourself thinking about the intensity of his gaze and it doesn't catch you by surprise when you notice that your cock is straining upwards, pressing against your belly as it seeks to gain your attention.
Alone in your mind, it's hard to feign disgust at the action. Your hand slips down into your boxers, cock twitching appreciatively against your hand. All you can think about as you touch yourself is the feeling of Sarge's eyes on your body, checking out your ass, and you can't help the path that your mind strays down next.
Now you're imagining his eyes on your body, watching the rough, hungry slide of your hand over your cock as he tells you how to do it. Mindlessly, you obey the Sarge in your head because secretly, you can't get enough of those eyes.
The older man orders you to slow down your strokes, timing it for just when you're getting close, you whimper, but obey anyway. The look of approval on his face is a strange sight to you and it throws you a bit; that look is always reserved for Simmons, but now he's admiring your body while you stroke off for his pleasure and it dawns on you that he likes the show, like having you under his control.
The thought of being under his control brings you closer than you'd like and you whimper as Sarge leans forward, sweeping his thumb through the precum gathered on the tip. Lifting it to your lips, he orders you to taste. Moaning softly, shivering under his burning gaze, your tongue darts forward, licking the shimmering liquid from his finger-tip. Above you, he moans as well, one hand sliding down to rub at the bulge in his fatigues.
Your eyes don't miss the action at all. Seeing him rubbing himself, his eyes on your hand, pushes you closer to the edge. "Not yet," he whispers gruffly. Your superior's voice is harsh and heavy with need as he frees the hard flesh from its confines, stroking along with you.
The sight of his cock is almost too much for you, and you squeeze your dick, strokes coming faster and harder now. Sarge tangles a hand in your hair, presses his cock to your lips...
...and you come hard, whimpering quietly into your pillow as you spill your seed over your belly and hand, desperate not to make any noise and get caught. As you lay there, panting and shaking, you hear quiet footsteps retreating down the hallway and have to wonder if it was really just a fantasy.
Sign up to rate and review this story