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One Taste	By : tarredglittered Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > General Views: 1620 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One Taste
- 1
One Taste by K M B

A sort-of follow-up to mouths lips tongues etc…

He always wants it this way.

I watch Sanzo’s Precious Moments purple eyes as he crawls across the floor to me. They damn near order me to say the words that come out of my mouth: "Worship my godly cock, priest."

He lays his cheek on my knee where I sit on the edge of the bed and sighs. "You didn’t say the magic word."

Cheeky bastard. I reach out with one hand and grab a fistful of blond hair to drag his head upward to face me, then backhand him with the other. It bloodies his mouth a little but that’s okay; it was hurt a little in the battle that day, not enough for Hakkai to heal, but enough that Sanzo had given me a meaningful look as he passed me into the inn that night, one that meant this, here, now.

"Please," he breathes; his face still turned to the side from when I had slapped him. "Please," he mews again, sounding so submissive and un-Sanzo that I want to take him in my arms and make it all better, except that would far from do it. This is a game I learnt well a long time ago, and in it comfort does not exist.

I order him to undo my pants, which he does with long, tapered fingers that don’t shake and are very familiar with the fastenings. He pulls out my cock preemptively but I don’t punish him for it; watching him on his knees in subordination before me, I’m beginning to want this, too.

"Lick it," I command and like a good little slave he does as he’s told. Leaning forward, Sanzo ice-cream-licks the head of my dick and it makes me ‘Ooh’ as my head falls back a little. "Suck it," is the next command and he does that, too, holding the tip for a moment with his tongue then sliding so, so, oh fuck so slowly down that my fists ball beside on the bedcovers. He eats my cock like a pro, taking it all the way back and let me tell you, there is no more erotic a sight than my cock hilt-deep in Sanzo’s mouth, his lips—a trickle of blood in one corner adding color—down to my pubes as he looks up at me with those holy fucking eyes. I almost come right then and there.

"God, priesty, your mouth feels good," I moan on cue, one hand moving to grip the nape of Sanzo’s neck and guide him roughly into the pace I want. I hear rustling and know one of his hands is going for his own cock and grab both to keep them away. "No, no, that’s cheating," I singsong in an almost perfect imitation of Hakkai, and force his head deeper onto my cock. "I said get me off, not you, Buddha Boy."

His eyes flash up at me, the only way he can communicate with me at the moment, but we don’t need anything else. They tell me to come, now, and I’m really not far from complying. "I’m gonna come," I groan out, my head flopping bonelessly to look up at the ceiling as I let Sanzo’s arms go. In response, he pulls off as if I’m going to let him get away or something.

"Fuck, no," I say as I yank Sanzo back down roughly, my hand on his arm. "That pretty mouth of yours is going to finish what it started." He glares up at me, purple flashing, mouth set in a scowl, but I just smile sweetly at him and buck my hips, making the fat tip of my dick slap against his cheek. "Go on. Be a good little monk." And he takes me back down; his eyes set angrily on mine.

Though he looks pissed off, I know the truth. It’s all part of the game, you see, and I know I just made him harder than he’ll ever admit to. As that talented mouth of his makes me come deep down his throat, I know in a moment the game will be over as he’ll leave for the bathrooms to finish what I started, jerking into his own hand while thinking—and here’s the fun part—about me and everything that just happened. It makes me smirk as he sits back and wipes his mouth, and I do something that’s not part of the game: I crawl onto the floor with him and palm his head, bringing our mouths together in a long, slow, eating kiss. He relents under my mouth, letting me taste myself and him and kissing back, submissively, urgently still. Then he jerks away, his face heated as he pushes at me.

"You ruined it. You asshole." And he gets up and marches away. I flop to the floor, boneless and satisfied in more ways than one. I wipe the side of my mouth with my thumb and suck it off, relishing the taste of Genjyo Sanzo. I’m a betting man, and my wager’s on that I haven’t ruined a damn thing at all.

Later that night, just as I’m about to fall asleep, I feel an insistent hand on my arm, before an equally-eager mouth descends on my own. It’s him, and if this had been a bet—

I’d have won.
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One Taste