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Fandom Stocking - 2012
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Published:
2013-01-05
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1/1
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Broad Horizons

Summary:

He was an army brat, a boy from a series of small towns – what did Tyler Reed know about battling the elemental forces of nature?

Notes:

Written for fandom_stocking for Claire because I love her enough to write her worm tentacle porn. And now I'll never be clean again.

Thanks to aithine for the beta.

Work Text:

Growing up, Tyler had realised early on that his parents hadn't had any great ambitions for him or any faith in his future, and so far he was living up to their very low expectations. But Perfection was rock bottom, even for him. Even in this town with a permanent population of nine, he was a small fish in a small pond, little more than a fry in a puddle.

Maybe that was why he was out here in the darkness of Perfection's night. He felt even smaller here, under the starry heavens, but it was more bearable because anybody would feel that way. It wasn't a failure on Tyler's part, like the way he felt in town. There was no light pollution to wash out the skies and the moon was only a quarter full, which meant that the vista in front of him stretched out forever, to the very ends of the Universe. There was a strange kind of peace to be found here, the kind that could fill a man up or drag him under depending on his mood.

Tyler just wasn't sure which it was going to turn out to be for him.

Of course, the starry skies weren't the only attraction out here, hidden in the darkness. He knew what else – who else – was out there, too, lurking in the desert, but he was tired of fighting it, tired of running from it. He was an army brat, a boy from a series of small towns – what did he know about battling the elemental forces of nature? The closest he'd ever got to the adrenaline rush of a life or death experience before coming to Perfection was high school football or driving his car too fast on the highway.

Only now he was more addicted to the high that Perfection and its inhabitants could give him than he'd ever been to team sports.

He closed his eyes and then opened them again so quickly that the stars overhead seemed to spin, bright and dizzy-making. The desert was nearly featureless in the dim moonlight, just a collection of ink-black shadows, nothing like the plain, pale sands of day. He stared at them until they too seemed to shift, undulating in the darkness.

So lost was he in his thoughts – most as dark as the sky – that it took him a second to realise that it wasn't an optical illusion, that the ground really was moving. He closed his eyes again, his palms clammy and his breath catching in his throat, knowing that his luck had just run out.

It wasn't a surprise – he'd always known that this was the price he might pay some day, dancing this dance with El Blanco. The ultimate price, the one that would end him for good.

The undulating shadows moved closer and then the ground beneath his feet rose and fell – he could feel tremors shivering up his legs as the shockwaves travelled through him, tightening in his stomach and the flesh of his balls. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut, the Earth literally moving for him.

He didn't fight when the first of El Blanco's prehensile tongues slid up his leg, slow and questing. Instead, he swallowed, tasting something in the back of his throat that wasn't quite fear and not quite resignation. Instead, there was an unexpected quiver of excitement running through him, still tensing in his stomach and drawing his balls up until they were tight and hard against his body, his cock firming up against the fabric of his jeans.

El Blanco's tentacle-like tongue finally paused and Tyler opened his eyes, slowly lowering his head until the little of El Blanco above the ground was within view. There was something almost anticipatory in the way that El Blanco's long tongue was resting against his thigh, something eager in the tilt of that head-like mouth.

A second tentacle slid out of the ground at Tyler's feet, weaving back and forth in the moonlight, what little light there was glinting off the wet, shiny and leathery skin. Tyler swallowed again, watching mesmerised as it joined the first tongue in slowly sliding up his inner thigh. It was almost as if El Blanco was taking his time, maybe even enjoying this, as if Graboids really were capable of pleasure.

The first prehensile tongue reached the fastening of his jeans, mouthing at the fabric and catching at the brass button that held them closed. The pace of movement picked up, as if El Blanco was growing frustrated with his inability to progress any further. Almost dreamily, lost in the unreality of the situation, Tyler reached down, flicking the button free of its buttonhole.

His fingers stayed firmly on his hand, no sign of aggression from El Blanco. Instead, it seemed as though El Blanco was going to cope much better with the zipper, simply by wriggling his tongue inside the opening of Tyler's jeans and forcing the zipper down with the weight of it. The flesh of that tongue was hot and wet against Tyler's shorts and Tyler shivered again, the motion having nothing to do with the cool night air. The opposite, in fact – Tyler was hot, flushed, his whole body feeling like it was on fire, his skin tight and tingling.

El Blanco's tentacle – the one not shoved down the front of Tyler's pants – tugged experimentally at Tyler's jeans, the tugging growing stronger as El Blanco wrestled the garment from Tyler's body. The fabric gave, ripping as El Blanco finally tugged it free and left it discarded on the sand before continuing his exploration of Tyler's body.

There was no question, now, that that was what El Blanco was doing – exploring. His tongues left wet, slimy trails over Tyler's skin, Tyler's shirt soon joining his jeans on the desert floor. That left Tyler clad in nothing but his shorts and his boots, but still the fear didn't come. The vulnerability, yes, but even that didn't do much to lessen his arousal. His shorts were soaked through, and not just from El Blanco's mucus. Tyler's dick was leaking pre-come, harder than it had ever been before in his life and growing harder still as El Blanco's administrations continued.

El Blanco's touch was almost delicate now as he slid one tongue over Tyler's nipples, nipping and lapping at the hot, tight buds. He still didn't seem interested in ripping or tearing Tyler open, but maybe this was how Graboids fed when their prey didn't fight back.

The other tongue was still mouthing at the hardness at Tyler's groin, and the first slid lower to join it, tracing slowly over Tyler's well-defined abdominal muscles, one by one. When the two tongues met, they gripped tightly hold of the fabric of Tyler's shorts and ripped them apart.

Oh, God. Tyler almost came on the spot, but El Blanco hadn't finished with him. As both long tongues slid over Tyler's naked skin, the ground at Tyler's feet stirred again.

Oh shit. Lost in his ecstatic daze, Tyler had forgotten that El Blanco had three tongues, and now the third was rising from the dirt, joining the others in their mapping of Tyler's form.

One slimy mouth opened, toying with the end of Tyler's dick, and Tyler whimpered, the sound rising in pitch as that mouth slid more of Tyler's dick into it. The second tongue moved back, leaving a slimy trail as it probed first at the soft, sensitive skin of Tyler's taint and then up over the rounded curve of his ass.

Tyler shifted position, eager for more, but froze when El Blanco's tongues did, hyperaware of the bulk of El Blanco's body still hidden beneath the ground and the mouth that was still wrapped around his dick. But the need was greater than any fear and he couldn't stay still; this time he moved more slowly, sliding his thighs apart inch by inch, opening up and offering himself to El Blanco.

El Blanco took the hint, that questing tongue finally sliding down the cleft of Tyler's ass, providing its own lubricant as it probed against the opening to his body.

It was too big – there was no way in hell Tyler was going to be able to take it, no matter how often he snuck away from Perfection for a little 'me time' at the roughest bars Bixby had. But he wanted it. God, he wanted it.

El Blanco's tongue probed more insistently, hard enough to shove Tyler's body back. Tyler took the hint, letting his body finally slump down until he was flat on his back on the ground, his knees pulled up towards his chest and his thighs spread as wide as they could go, the muscles in his legs burning.

His ass burned, too, as El Blanco's tongue pushed harder against his entrance, finally sliding past the first tight ring of muscle and splitting Tyler wide-open. Tyler opened his mouth to scream but any cry was muffled by the third of El Blanco's tongues as it forced its way past his lips.

His mouth was now stretched impossibly wide, his breath catching in his throat as El Blanco's tongue wriggled, half-choking him. But that was nothing to the feel of the tongue slithering deeper into his ass, sending stars spiralling behind his eyelids as it hit his prostate.

His body arched, pleasure spiking through him, impossible pleasure, too big for his body to contain. Too big like El Blanco was too big, burning all the way in as El Blanco's tongue rammed into his ass again, in and out, jerking Tyler's body around like a puppet on three prehensile strings.

The mouth on his cock swallowed it down whole, the lower lip of it nudging at his ball-sack, and Tyler tried to scream again, the pleasure of it overwhelming him, warring with the pain deep in his ass and the burning in his throat. Again, the sound was muffled, silenced by the tongue still stuffed in his mouth. He fought it, twisting his body, wanting – needing – more and less at the same time, the need to breathe and the need to come, to have El Blanco as deep in him as humanly possible and then deeper still battling for dominance.

Pleasure won out and he let go, letting his body go slack, letting El Blanco do whatever he wanted to him.

El Blanco used him, used every one of his holes, pounding into him deep and hard, filling his mouth and his ass while the third mouth worked his dick like a pro. El Blanco had no gag reflex and didn't seem to use his mouths to breathe, meaning he took more of Tyler's dick than anyone ever had before, the musculature of El Blanco's tongue rippling and contracting in a way that not even the best deep throat experience he'd ever had could match.

But it was matched by the tongue in his ass, which was thickening and pulsing in time to the one around his dick, sending waves of pure pleasure through him.

El Blanco's tongues were taking him apart, taking him higher and higher until the pleasure was almost unbearable, until he was feeling it in every part of him, not just his dick and his ass. He was going to come with every part of him and if El Blanco ate him now – ate him for real – he wouldn't care. This was the pinnacle of pleasure – nothing would ever feel as good as this. Nothing ever could. He could spend the rest of his miserable life chasing this high and never find it anywhere else.

The tongue in his ass pulsed again, thickening and rippling, the pleasure ripping through him, tearing a scream from his throat as he came apart, spurting endlessly into El Blanco's mouth as his body spasmed, lost in white-hot pleasure.

El Blanco swallowed it all, the muscles of El Blanco's throat rippling as well, milking the last of his orgasm from him as the third of El Blanco's tongues slid from his mouth, finally letting his hoarse whimpers spill out into the night air.

The tongue in his ass stayed there, not moving now but still thick, still splitting him in two with the sheer girth of it. Tyler groaned, starting to wriggle away, but the weight of El Blanco's free tongue – one that had been in his mouth and was still slathered with his saliva – settled on his chest, pinning him firmly in place.

The mouth around his dick started moving again, slowly and delicately, stroking over sensitised flesh, and to Tyler's mingled awe and horror, he started to harden again under El Blanco's touch. There was something almost smug in the way that the tongue on his chest slid over his skin, something close to a caress as the mouth on his dick continued to work its magic.

The one in his ass began pulsing again, sliding slowly and shallowly at first, moving gently up and down his tight, bruised channel as if El Blanco actually gave a fuck about whether or not it hurt, and Tyler moaned.

He was just an army brat, a boy from a series of small towns whose parents didn't think he would amount to much, but for Tyler Reed the world had just grown a little bigger, his horizons broadening as El Blanco pounded open his ass for the second time that night, but not the last.

The end